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frenchkisstheabyss · 5 months ago

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♡ Softer, Softest ♡

♡ Pairing: mafia!boss!san x stripper!chubby!fem!reader

♡ Genre: smut/angst/fluff

♡ Summary: A fun night of stripping takes a turn when an encounter with a particularly unpleasant customer leaves you in tears, running to your boss seeking comfort and protection. Both things he’s more than willing to give.

♡ Word Count: 3.6k-ish

♡ Warnings: explores themes of body insecurities, reader has her arm grabbed (nothing violent but brutal violence against the person who grabbed it), mentions of blood/injuries (not yours, babes), kissing, heavy body worship, san’s obsessed with you, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), clit sucking, nipple pinching, a lil manhandling, hair pulling, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, cream pie, low key mirror sex, pet names (baby, pretty).

♡ A/N: Hello my loves, I wrote this little fic for any of my chubby darlings out there who might not know or might need reminding that their bodies are gorgeous, worth loving, and desirable. I also really love myself a hot criminal and who better than San? K, let me shut up now. Just know I love you. Your body’s amazing. Never forget that ❤️

Midnight. Friday. The back alley of a strip club. The best in town. The strip club, not the alley. It’s a dark, starless night. The smell of fresh rain hangs in the air, the aftermath of a sudden downpour that left the ground slick with rain. Music from inside the club bleeds through the cracks of a heavy steel door. A neon red EXIT sign hangs overhead. The door creaks on its hinges as it swings open, sending the music blaring out into the night and with it comes a body. The blur of one at first, flying through the air, and then the weight of it. The heavy thud of bruised flesh and cracked bone colliding with the asphalt.

The man on the ground is unremarkable, nothing about him worth noting except the mangled nose that gushes blood down his face, leaking into the cavernous gash that is his busted lip. He said the wrong thing to the wrong person and now he can’t speak at all, only mumble. A brushed leather Dolce and Gabbana shoe collides with his cheek. His blood splashes scarlet against the pitch black soles, a horrible crack emitting from his jaw as more pressure’s applied. Now this man? He’s remarkable. He’s muscular, defined in every way so that, even through his black dress shirt, you can read the broadness of his shoulders. His features are sharp and intense. The kind you either fall for or fall victim to. There’s no in between. He’s a handsome devil but a devil all the same.

“You look like shit” San sighs, effortlessly kicking the man onto his back. He rolls his sleeves up, kneeling beside the man like a hunter inspecting its fallen prey. He stares down at him, emotionless, void of anything close to that thing we call remorse.

The man heaves in a breath of air before coughing it back out. “Mmm s-s-sorry” he croaks, “I didn’t know she was anyone fucking special.”

San grips the man’s face, grinning in a way that isn’t the least bit friendly. He squeezes tightly, forcing jagged teeth to press into the soft flesh of the man’s cheeks. “Well now you do.”

This is your boss and you, tucked away safe and warm in his office, are something special. But a part of you knew this already. You downplay it when the other girls point it out. You pretend not to notice the clear signs of favoritism but they’re there in even the smallest interaction between the two of you. Since day one San’s been your protector, your admirer. You’ve denied it a million times, convincing yourself you’re simply making more of things than what’s there. Still, after everything happened you couldn’t fathom running into the arms of anyone else.

You were dancing like any other night—working your section and getting your tips—when some asshole grabbed you by the arm, demanding your presence in one of the private rooms. Usually you could count on security to drag him out but on weekends the club gets packed and things slip through the cracks. Sadly tonight you were one of them so, like a proper lady, you told him to kiss your ass and sent the tip of your stiletto crashing into his balls. You might be a stripper but that doesn’t mean you’re some thing that men can treat however they wish. It’s a lesson he had to learn the hard way and you were happy to teach it to him. Two shots past drunk and embarrassed by your rejection he snapped, spewing the most vile things you’ve ever heard about yourself—about your body.

It isn’t news to you that you’re one of the bigger girls here. San says that’s what makes you special, why customers come in to blow a check on you and you alone. He’s right, your bank account says so. The customers love you, they eat up every inch of your plush body. By all means you should feel like the baddest bitch in this building, simply because you are, but in that moment his words had reduced you to nothing. A few seconds ago you were twirling around the pole like a goddess now you found yourself scurrying back to the dressing room with tears in your eyes.

At least that’s where you intended to go. Somewhere along the way you changed course, riding the velvet lined elevator to the third floor where San’s office sits at the end of a long hallway. At the time you hadn’t considered how much this might escalate the situation because, quite honestly, you didn’t care. More than feeling hurt, you were pissed the fuck off. Your tears were of anger and, whether you felt it at the time or not, you wanted that motherfucker to pay for it.

This place you work at. There’s more to it than what’s on the surface. It’s easy to get so distracted by the luxury and the lights and the pretty girls dancing that you miss the truth of it all. In fact, that’s the point, but you know a mafia front when you see one. You aren’t oblivious. You know what this is, who San is, and maybe that’s exactly why you were tapping at his door. A damsel in distress in black lace lingerie.

San’s heart dropped when he saw his favorite girl in tears. He stopped everything, sending his men away so he could place all of his focus on you. Resting his jacket over your shoulders, he gently cradled your cheeks, brushing the tears away to ask quite simply, “Who did it?”

You explained everything, how that asshole grabbed you and the things he said, and San’s anger grew quietly, simmering beneath a surface of calm. He took a seat at his desk, setting you down comfortably in his lap, and pulled up the security cameras. “Tell me when you see him, okay, baby?” he instructed sweetly, his palm massaging the smoothness of your thigh.

You nodded, struggling to focus on the screen with his hand on your thigh and him calling you “baby”. San touching you wasn’t a rare occasion but it was always something light. A hand on the small of your back or fingertips grazing your arm. Never this purposeful—this intimate. You couldn’t help imagining how it might feel if he gripped a little harder, moved a little higher. You felt your heart begin to race, your temperature rising the longer you sat there in his lap.

“That’s him” you sniffled, spotting that familiar face on the screen. San studied the screen a moment before turning back to you. “I’ll take care of it” he promised, his hand riding your thigh and coming to rest at the gentle curve of your hip. “And no more crying, baby. You’re too pretty to cry.” Too pretty to cry? Oh, but you were crying, absolutely weeping, only between your thighs this time.

San disappeared from the office, leaving you too lost in the lingering haze of his touch to even think about your insecurities, but that only lasted so long. Alone in the quiet of his office, the self doubt began to creep back in. You tried to distract yourself by exploring your surroundings—the impressive collection of vintage whiskey, the gorgeously framed art hanging from the walls—but nothing could distract you from how uncomfortable you’d become in your own skin. It didn’t help that the office was lined with mirrors, reflecting glimpses of your figure with every turn.

At last out of distractions, you turn to face the mirrored image of yourself, letting San’s jacket slip to the floor. You strike a pose, a half hearted copy of something cute you might do on stage, and watch the way the fat of your body squishes together here or there. You strike another then another then another but they’re there in every pose. Your face, your belly, your sides, your thighs. Your weight shows in all of them. Pinching your lower belly you think of how the other girls have had work done. Maybe if you got some done yourself…

“I left him out back. Clean him up before someone sees” San says, pushing through the door, his phone pressed to his ear.

You jump a bit at his arrival, scrambling to grab the jacket, but San slips in behind you, closing his arms around your waist before you can retrieve your safety blanket. You tense at first but find yourself settling into his embrace as if it’s the most natural place for you to be.

“So, what was that?” he asks, resting his chin on your shoulder. His breath tickles your neck as he inhales your perfume and the sweet scent of honey and jasmine fills his lungs. You smell as beautiful as you are, as beautiful as everything about you is.

“How’d everything go?” you press, quick to change the subject. Noticing a series of tiny red scrapes on the knuckles of his right hand, you carefully take it into yours, assessing the damage.

San shrugs it off like it’s nothing. It still stings but it’s far from the worst pain he’s ever felt. “I said I’d take care of it. It’s been taken care of.”

You giggle at the contrast of something so menacing being spoken by someone so regal. “San, you make it sound like you killed him.”

He leans into your neck, his lips grazing your skin on their way up to your ear. You shiver at the contact and his hold on you tightens, your bodies pressed flush against each other so that you can feel his bulge pressed into the plush of your ass.

“Killed him? Almost” he whispers, “I answered your question so it’s only fair you answer mine, isn’t it? What were you doing? I came in and you were…” San pinches your belly, his fingertips planting adoration where there was once doubt.

“I…uh…I was…” you stutter, searching your brain for a believable lie but you can’t find a single one.“There’s this doctor, a few of the girls have gone to him to get some work done, and I was just thinking, I don’t know, maybe...why am I even telling you this? You don’t care and anyway, it’s silly.”

“It is silly” he agrees, notes of that quiet, controlled anger you witnessed earlier resurfacing, “But you’re wrong to say that I don’t care. I care about how you feel about yourself, I care about you. You must know that.”

“I mean, I know you care about me. You care about all of the girls” you say, hesitant to accept this as a profession of anything in particular.

San spins you around, pinning you between the warmth of his body and the cool mahogany of the desk. “I don’t care for any other woman the way I do you.”

There it is, a profession of something very particular. He’d hoped that you’d seen it by now. He wonders if he didn’t do a good enough job of showing you. It’s been so long before you, years even, that he had feelings like this for anyone. The world he operates in doesn’t allow for soft spots. Soft spots are how you make mistakes and when mistakes are life or death you can’t afford to make them but he couldn’t help himself with you. You caught his eye the day you walked in for your audition and you’re all he’s been able to see since. You’re so delicate, so beautiful, a perfect contrast to the toughness of his life. It’s why he protects you—why he always will.

“Your body…” he says, his palms racing up and down your curves, “It’s perfect. There’s nothing about it that needs fixing. If you let that doctor touch you I’ll break both of his hands.” San’s gaze is heavy with lust, months of longing just begging to be satisfied. It burns him up inside, sets fire to his very being, and being kissed by the flames of that need is unlike anything you’ve ever felt before.

“Is that the way you romance women? With threats of violence?” you tease, draping your arms across his shoulders.

“Sometimes but usually it’s like this” he whispers, pressing his lips to yours. His tongue parts your lips, twining around yours to deepen the kiss. His movements are careful and deliberate. The kiss intoxicatingly slow.

San grabs you by the hips, lifting you onto the desk and you let out a little squeak of surprise as he sets you down. “You’re so fucking cute” he grins, spreading your thighs to fit perfectly between them.

“You think so?” you say so innocently it only makes him want to ravage you more.

Tangling his fingers in your hair, he tilts your head to look back at the mirror, “Don’t you?”

An unexpected wetness soaks the lace of your panties at the sight of your shared reflection. Nothing has changed about your body. It’s the same one you were picking apart, the same one you were doubting, and San loves everything about it. He praises it with his hands, with his fingertips, with whispered confessions of everything your body needs to hear.

”I watch you sometimes when you’re dancing” he says, effortlessly doing away with your bra, “I know I shouldn’t but I can’t help myself when you look the way you do. It’s like you’ve put a spell on me. My little witch.”

San captures one of your breasts, kneading the plump flesh in the palm of his hand. He pinches your bud between his fingers, tugging at it just enough to make your breath catch in your throat.

“But I don’t have any magic” you whimper, tugging at the buttons of his shirt. They pop open one by one, revealing a body that had to be sculpted by some divine feminine deity. You push the fabric away, your fingertips delighting in the perfection of her creation.

San’s free hand reaches between you, stroking your clit through your panties. He groans at how soaked you are, your juices leaking through the lace to coat his fingers in your juices. “You do have magic, baby” he whispers, tucking your panties to the side, “It’s right here.”

“Aah, Sannie” you moan, your hands sliding down his abs as his fingers stretch you open.

Your body falls back, a sharp chill coursing through you as your bare back hits the desk. San sinks his fingers deeper into your core, his cock stiffening at the sight of your body moving as hypnotically as it does on the pole. Only now it’s for him and only him. This is how San likes it, how he’s always wanted it to be. Him with his fingers buried deep into the warmth of your pussy, your walls greedily clenching around them, and you spread out across his desk, your gorgeous body on full display and your lips spilling out moans meant for his ears alone.

Kneeling between your legs he pulls your panties aside harder this time, nearly tearing the fabric as he knots it in his fist. He brings his thumb to your clit, toying with it just to see how your body twitches with every touch. “How can a girl be this perfect?” he says, nearly salivating, “Even your pussy’s gorgeous.” There’s an audible wet sound, another sweet whimper escaping your throat, as his fingers slip out of your core and his tongue takes its place.

“San, wait…” you beg, grabbing at his hair, but you’re too late. Your attempt at pacing yourself is useless. His tongue’s already filling the space between your walls, wiggling and curling against your sweet spot. His dark hair knots around your fingers, your hips raising to ride every wave his tongue sends washing over you.

San drags his tongue up through your petal soft folds, swirling it around your clit before diving into you again. He suckles at your clit, gently at first then faster, more ravenous. His gaze flicks up to you, taking in the way your belly jiggles and your breasts bounce. He’s drunk on your juices, already addicted to the way you coat his tongue. You taste like heaven and look like it too. It takes all of the self control he has to pry his mouth free of your pussy, snatching your panties down as he does.

Standing back up, he grips your thighs, spreading you open to watch the arousal drip from your pussy, leaving pretty little drops on his desk. Your eyes are glued to him as he unzips his pants, letting his cock fall right between your legs. The swollen tip throbs against your lower belly, leaking precum, warm and sticky, on your skin. You rock your hips, clenching around air, craving friction from that deliciously veiny cock of his.

“You want it, baby?” San teases, tapping the head of his cock against your clit. His length slips between your folds. They’re so smooth, so slick. Toying with your pussy’s like splashing in a lake. You’re wet enough to drown in.

“I want it, Sannie, aah, fuck…” you moan, your eyes widening at the realization that his tip’s pressed to your entrance now, stretching you the faintest bit.

“Then tell me how perfect your body is. Tell me you love it.” He pushes in an inch more, stopping to leave your hole spread wide around his cock, still needy and deprived.

The stretch has the room spinning, a single taste of him already making you want more. “My body’s, mmph, beautiful” you manage as he gradually feeds you more of him, “I love it.”

“Don’t stop. Keep telling me. Make me believe you” San demands, thrusting into you so hard that he bottoms out.

You cry out at the force of the thrust, your lashes fluttering away tears, “I love, aah, my body. I love my body. It’s beautiful. It’s…it’s…”

Tucking his hands behind your knees, San pushes them to your chest, snapping his hips against you hard enough that your thighs jiggle around him. All of you does. Every stroke of his cock makes you tremble and he’s hardly able to keep still himself. You’re so tightly wound around his cock that he can feel all the finer details of your walls. They’re glued to him, sucking him in every time he even thinks about pulling back.

Through heavy lids you watch the man you’ve only ever known to be a mountain crumble to pieces all because of you. San’s muscles are slick with sweat and a glossy haze dances over his eyes. His fingers are digging into your thighs, completely devouring them. He does what he can to swallow his moans but it’s impossible when you’re making him feel like his entire soul’s being snatched from his body.

“You feel so fucking good” he grunts, planting breathless kisses up your leg, “Come here.”

San props your ankles up on his shoulders, hooking an arm around you and sitting you up so that you’re close enough to kiss. He grinds against your sweet spot, forcing his tongue down your throat so that every moan you set free echoes between his cheeks. Gripping the back of your neck, he slams into you, harder, faster, forcing your body to give into him. He fucks you until your eyes are rolling back, your mind too blank to recall anything that happened before this moment. There’s no thought of the incident, no thought of your insecurities. High on euphoria, your body feels beautiful, every inch of it.

“S-San…” you whine, a familiar pressure building behind your belly. Your fingers begin to tingle as they cling to his muscles, searching for any stability they can reach.

“You gonna cum for me, pretty girl?” he coos, not letting up on you, not even for a second.

Pulling his arm away he lets you fall back on the desk. With one hand cupping your breast and the other circling your clit, he watches you fall apart in the palms of his hands. For so long he’s had to watch you from afar, pretending that he wasn’t utterly obsessed with you, but now you’re all his. His pretty, moaning, teary eyed girl pouring your cum down his cock while you repeat his name like it’s the only word you know. He’s so singularly focused on watching you hit your high that his own takes him by surprise.

Grabbing him by the wrist, you lock eyes, a weak smile forming on your lips. “Fill me up, Sannie” you whisper, your voice sexy even in its brokenness.

San’s body shudders and you feel a new fullness inside of you. The warmth pools deep within you at first, cascading down your walls the more he empties himself into you. “Fuck, baby” he pants, catching himself before his body doubles over. He came so hard his ears are ringing and holding onto you is all he can do not to fall. You sit up to stroke his cheek and he kisses your wrist lovingly. You stare into each other’s eyes for a minute that lasts an eternity, letting yourselves get lost in one another’s gaze.

San breaks the trance with a kiss, holding you like one would the most precious thing they own. “Tell me, baby, how do you feel now?”

You contemplate his question, your attention drifting back to the reflection in the mirror. It’s all there. Your face, your belly, your sides, your thighs, and San looking at you like you’re the prettiest girl in the world. You turn back to him with a smile, “Beautiful.”

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whrfchnn · 2 months ago

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에이티즈 ! ୨ KEEP IT JUICY JUICY, EAT THAT LUNCH .ᐟ

⭑ Ateez with a chubby girlfriend .ᐟ

Ateez x chubby!fem!reader (individually)

Warnings ! Not edited :( I fear I went a little overboard with the drabbles in seonghwa’s part + lil suggestive in hongjoong’s at the end also some ethel cain vibes with yunho but we love that. I’ve got a sweet drabble for each members which will be posted soon :3

Mona’s notes ! Something soft for my darlings, I hope you enjoy. 3462k words…whoops. Feedback is welcomed! I’m always looking to improve my writing so don’t be afraid to be straightforward. Reblogs are appreciated! You might like; losing my innocence in the backseat.

✦. ── kim hongjoong .ᐟ 김홍중

𖤐 Joong would 100% design clothing for you all on his own, he knows some brands are blind when it comes to size inclusivity and he hates seeing you go from super excited to self conscious when you finally get the chance to shop for clothes.

𖤐 He’ll spend hours sketching out ideas, finding the right fabrics knowing you’re sensitive to certain materials. Plus this way, he gets to include small meaningful things into his designs that only you two know about, like his initials.

𖤐 He’d constantly remind you that society’s standards are a scam, joong will make it his life mission to make you feel like the most beautiful gorgeous person in the room not only with his designs but with his actions and words of affirmations.

𖤐 I feel like his favourite feature of you would be your waist. When he brings you to a fashion event or anything, he loves wrapping his arms around you so he could slowly and gently rub the side of your tummy.

𖤐 I also feel like if you’re taller than him, he’d be so smitten.

𖤐 Literal stars in his eyes when he looks at you, adoring that soft smile on his face like, “wow…she’s really my girlfriend”.

𖤐 LIKE He loves looking up at you with that cheeky grin, resting his chin on your shoulder he be like, “And what about it?” to anyone who comments on the height difference, “She’s my goddess, of course she’s taller.”

𖤐 If you’re ever feeling down, he will pull out his camera and convince you to model for him. “Trust me, babe, you’re stunning,” he’ll say, positioning you under the best light and capturing candid moments of you laughing or simply existing. Later, he’ll compile all the photos into a little book, labeling it My Favorite Masterpiece.

𖤐 ALSO OMFG

𖤐 Istg he’d wear your initials, either on a charm bracelet, rings, or necklace. He’s wear your full name with zero hesitation or shame but you insisted on the initials for now because of his job sigh.

𖤐 Lil suggestive BUT have you seen those videos of woman doing self portraits with their body? Like sitting on the canvas butt naked with paint on them and going over it to enhance it?

𖤐 YEAH SO imagine gifting him something like that, the outline of your sweet ass and hints of your camel toe drove him up the wall. He hugged the canvas to his body when San tried to see just what was on it that sent joong into a frenzy.

✦. ── park seonghwa .ᐟ 박성화

𖤐 My love, when Seonghwa first saw you it was as if you picked him up by his neck and claimed him as yours.

𖤐 On day one my man was hooked and wanted nothing more than to show you what devotion is.

𖤐 He’s a foodie so he will ensure you eat your meals and snacks daily. I feel like he’d prepare you an over the top dish and write cute notes with it if he’s out and can’t eat with you.

𖤐 Expect self care nights, he loves to take care of you both and pamper you ranging from bubble baths and skincare routines. I’ve got a small drabble for both;

𖤐 Bubble baths !

⤷ The warm water lapped at the sides of the tub as you leaned back against Seonghwa, bubbles piling high around you. It was peaceful, the scent of lavender and vanilla filling the air. Your eyes were half-closed when you felt the subtle shift of his arm behind you.

“What are you doing?” you asked, voice lazy with relaxation.

“Nothing,” he replied, though the playful lilt in his voice betrayed him.

A moment later, you felt it—bubbles being stacked atop your head, the slick slide of foam as he carefully shaped something.

“Seriously?” you laughed, sitting up slightly to catch his grin.

“Hold still,” he teased, leaning closer to perfect his work. His brows knit together in faux concentration, lips quirked up in amusement. “I’m almost done.”

You rolled your eyes playfully but let him continue, feeling the unmistakable shape of a shark fin forming. When he finally sat back to admire his creation, the pride on his face was impossible to ignore.

“There. Perfect,” he announced with a triumphant chuckle. “My very own bubble shark.”

You turned to face him, water sloshing gently as you scooped up a handful of foam. With a quick swipe, you smeared it across his nose and cheeks, earning a gasp of mock outrage.

“Now you’re next,” you said with a smirk.

𖤐 Skincare routine !

⤷ Seonghwa’s lap was warm beneath you, your knees resting on either side of his hips as you faced him. The faint glow of candlelight flickered across the room, casting a golden hue over the array of skincare products spread out on the table beside you. The soft cotton of the Light Fury headband around your head kept your hair neatly away from your face, and you couldn’t help but smile at the sight of Seonghwa’s matching Toothless one.

“One second Princess,” he murmured, voice low and soothing as he smoothed the face mask over your cheeks with gentle fingers. His brow furrowed in concentration, tongue peeking out slightly as he carefully applied the cool, creamy mixture.

“You take this way too seriously,” you teased, though the fondness in your voice betrayed you.

“And you don’t take it seriously enough,” he countered, his lips quirking into a soft grin as he leaned back to admire his work. “There. Perfect.”

You smiled softly and but couldn’t hide the warmth in your chest as he reached for a towel to clean his hands. Before you could shift or move, his hands found their way to your waist, sliding slowly down to rest on your stomach.

The touch was light at first, his palms gliding up and down your sides, the warmth of his fingers seeping through your oversized shirt. Then he gave your tummy a soft, affectionate squeeze, his thumbs brushing over the gentle curves there.

“What are you doing?” you asked, your voice softer now, almost shy.

“Appreciating you,” he said simply, his gaze meeting yours with an honesty that made your breath catch. His hands continued their slow, loving exploration, his thumbs drawing lazy patterns as he squeezed you again, this time with a little more intention. “You’re so beautiful.”

You huffed a quiet laugh, trying to hide the way his words flustered you. “We’re supposed to be waiting for these masks to dry, not… whatever this is.”

“Waiting is boring,” he said with a sly smile, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to your nose. “This is better.”

You sighed, feigning exasperation, but melted into his touch as his hands stayed firm and comforting on your body, grounding you in the moment. The quiet hum of music in the background mixed with the sound of your breathing, and for a while, the world outside didn’t exist.

✦. ── jeong yunho .ᐟ 정윤호

𖤐 Just carve out his heart and eat it please. Let him become one with you.

𖤐 He’s the kind of man who views his love as sacred, almost religious. To him, loving you feels like fulfilling a divine purpose. You are his universe, his North Star, and he orbits around you willingly.

𖤐 He adores your softness—physically, emotionally, spiritually.

𖤐 He’s constantly touching you, whether it’s tracing circles on your thighs, resting his head against your stomach while lying on the couch, or pressing kisses to your arms while you cook.

𖤐 I’m telling you right now, yunho isn’t shy about expressing his love. He tells you daily, in ways that range from poetic declarations—“You feel like the home I’ve been searching for my whole life”—to soft-spoken affirmations, whispered against your ear when you wake up.

𖤐 He loves seeing you confident, but he thrives on the quiet moments when you’re vulnerable, trusting him enough to show the parts of yourself you usually hide. To Yunho, those moments are where your beauty shines brightest.

𖤐 To me, he’s more so protective than possessive on occasions, always prioritizing your comfort and well-being.

𖤐 Anyone who even tries to make a comment about your body in a negative way will be met with that cold, cutting stare. Yum.

𖤐 He wants to become one with you—not just physically but spiritually. He dreams of the day he can say, “This is the life we’ve built together.”

✦. ── kang yeosang .ᐟ 강여상

𖤐 Yeo-yeo is more of a subtle admirer, he is quiet about his affection but his actions speak volumes.

𖤐 He’d casually drape his jacket over your shoulder, pull you closer with an arm secure around your waist, and compliment you in ways that make your heart flutter.

𖤐 His eyes OMFG, he talks with his eyes. If you were out with friends having dinner or something and see him looking at you, you can easily interpret what he’s saying, “You look beautiful” or “Come here, I want to hold you.”

𖤐 He’s your personal photographer, and not those who stand in one place and take a picture no, he will do whatever to get the perfect shot. If he has to get on his knees or raise his arms while already standing on an elevated platform, he will.

𖤐 He loves capturing candid pictures of you. Whether it’s your soft smile, your laughter, or just the way you look at him, he treasures every photo. And when you criticize yourself in photos, he’ll firmly say, “What are you talking about? You look incredible, don’t you ever disrespect my girlfriend like that.”

𖤐 Also 🥹

𖤐 Yeosang remembers everything you tell him, no matter how insignificant you think it is. Months later, he’ll bring up that obscure snack you mentioned liking as a kid or a book you said you wanted to read, often surprising you with it. “You said you wanted this, right?” he’ll say casually, like it’s no big deal, even though you’re stunned he remembered.

𖤐 If you have a unique fashion sense, he doesn’t just hype it up, he matches your energy. He’ll subtly coordinate his outfits with yours, ensuring you both look like you stepped out of a fashion editorial without stealing your thunder TEHE.

𖤐 This made me cry but

𖤐 If you ever feel down or insecure, Yeosang’s words are like a balm. He’ll remind you of your strengths and beauty without hesitation, often framing his encouragement as a matter of fact. “You’re incredible. Anyone who doesn’t see that doesn’t deserve to know you.”

𖤐 While he’s fine with going out, his ideal date is staying in, curled up with you under a blanket while you watch a movie or talk for hours. He loves the intimacy of those quiet moments where it feels like the world is just the two of you.

✦. ── choi san .ᐟ 최산

𖤐 AGH I LOVE THIS MAN.

𖤐 He will NEVER miss an opportunity to tell you how beautiful you are. He’s the type to bombard you with compliments like, “You’re so cute” or “You’re so sexy,” often in the same breath.

𖤐 SAURRR MUCH PDA

𖤐 And he’s unapologetic about being affectionate in public. Whether it’s holding your hand, a thumb stroking your knuckles, full-on bear hugs, wrapping his arm around your waist, or outright kissing you in front of others, San LOVES showing the world how proud he is to have you.

𖤐 He loves wrapping his big arms around you from behind and holding your tummy in his hands, he’d sway you side to side just chilling on you like a koala. If you try to move, he’ll groan and pull you closer, mumbling with a pout, “nope, you’re stuck with me now.”

𖤐 I feel like he’d definitely tease you, he’ll poke your cheeks or pinch your sides and call you adorable, but he never crosses the line.

𖤐 How to keep it playful and always follows up with a sincere, “I love every part of you.”

𖤐 I also feel like if he ever found out he made you cry after teasing you, he’ll dig his own grave. he’d do everything in his power to make it up to you, but he’ll never be able to forgive himself or get rid of that ache in his heart :((

𖤐 If you jokingly ask him something like “can you even lift my weight?” he’ll bench you right there and then, no need to go to the gym to show you.

𖤐 He’s your biggest fan in everything you do. Whether it’s a hobby, work, or even just picking out an outfit, he’ll hype you up like you’re the greatest in the world. “That’s my girl!” he’ll shout playfully, clapping dramatically, making you laugh and blush at the same time.

𖤐 Yk despite his playful nature, San has a deeply emotional and nurturing side. On tough days, he’ll hold you close, stroking your hair and whispering affirmations. “You’re everything to me, you know that? I’m so lucky to have you.” His voice is calm and steady, grounding you in the warmth of his love.

𖤐 If you jokingly ask him something like “can you even lift my weight?” he’ll bench you right there and then, no need to go to the gym to show you.

⤷ “San, I don’t think you can lift me,” you teased, a mischievous grin playing on your lips.

His head snapped toward you, eyes wide with mock offense. “Oh, really? Is that a challenge?”

Before you could respond, he was on his feet, grabbing your hands and pulling you up with him. “San, no!” you squealed, laughing as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

“Too late,” he said with a playful smirk, easily hoisting you up bridal-style. “See? Light as a feather.”

You couldn’t stop laughing, your arms looping around his neck as he spun you around. “Okay, okay, I believe you!”

He set you down gently but didn’t let go, his arms still secure around your waist. Leaning in, he kissed your forehead softly. “Never doubt me again,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing, but his eyes were filled with nothing but love.

𖤐 He’s so serious about you I can’t even type I’m blushing so hard bye.

✦. ── song mingi .ᐟ 송민기

𖤐 GIVE HIM A CHUBBY BADDIE AND HE WON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO HE’S THAT WHIPPED.

𖤐 Like he’s already smitten, but if you dress up or put in any effort, Mingi is left absolutely speechless, stammering out compliments like, “You… you’re literally the hottest person alive.”

𖤐 He LOVES cuddles and is all about physical affection. He’ll wrap himself around you like a blanket and tell you how soft and cozy you are, he loves pressing his cheek against yours and resting his hands on either your lower back or love handles, being close to you is his happy place, and he’ll never pass up a chance to cuddle.

𖤐 NUMBER ONE HYPE KING.

𖤐 He’ll randomly yell things like, “THAT’S MY BABY!” if you’re walking by him or just doing anything that makes you look confident.

𖤐 He loves boosting your self-esteem in the loudest, most Mingi way possible.

𖤐 I feel like you guys would have this little playful thing where he pretends he doesn’t know you and when walking past you he double takes, turning his body around to check out the bunda with them elevator eyes. He’d jog up to you and ask if you’ve got a boyfriend, also throwing in ‘mami’ mhm idc I said what I said.

𖤐 OOO he’d definitely bling you out so you’re matching. If he’s wearing a chain, you’re wearing a chain. If he got them rings on, so do you.

✦. ── jung wooyoung .ᐟ 정우영

𖤐 Woo is all about showing you off yessirrr.

𖤐 He’ll post pictures of you together on his social media with captions like, “My Queen 🤗” making sure everyone knows he’s proud of you. He’ll talk about you to his friends, constantly raving about how lucky he is. “Have you met her? She’s amazing,” he’ll brag to anyone who will listen — actually that doesn’t matter, he will make them listen.

𖤐 He loves cooking for you, especially if it means seeing you enjoy food without guilt or self-consciousness. “Food is meant to be enjoyed, babe,” he’ll say, feeding you bites of whatever he’s made. He’s adamant on making sure to remind you that there’s no need to feel guilty for indulging.

𖤐 OML ON THAT NOTE he’ll definitely spoon feed you, making sure it's not too hot by blowing on it and checking the temperature with his lips before feeding you (yk where this came from mhm)

𖤐 He’s always got your back and will defend you no matter what, wooyoung has zero tolerance for body shaming. If anyone makes a rude comment, he’ll roast them into oblivion and then reassure you and make sure their stupid comments don't get to you.

𖤐 Wooyoung is extremely protective of you, especially when it comes to anything that could affect your confidence or self-image.

𖤐 If anyone dares to make rude or body-shaming comments, he won’t hesitate to speak up. He’ll roast them in oblivion and make sure they know exactly where they stand. Afterward, he’ll be there for you, reassuring you and reminding you how beautiful you are, inside and out. “They don’t know what they’re talking about. You’re perfect, babe, and I love you

𖤐 He’s the type to always want to be physically close to you. Whether it’s holding your hand, resting his head on your shoulder, or wrapping his arm around you while watching a movie, he just loves being near you.

𖤐 He’ll even sneak up behind you for surprise hugs or kisses, just to make sure you know you’re loved. “I just want to hold you,” he’ll say, snuggling up to you on the couch or in bed.

✦. ── choi jongho .ᐟ 최종호

𖤐 Baby bear 🥹

𖤐 Jongho’s love isn’t loud or showy, but it’s steady and unwavering. He’s the type to show his devotion through actions rather than words.

𖤐 Whether it’s making sure you’re comfortable or going out of his way to do something thoughtful for you, he always lets you know that you’re a priority in his life without needing to shout it from the rooftops.

𖤐 Jongii is so incredible observant when it comes to you. He’ll remember your favorite foods, the things that make you laugh, and the small gestures that bring you joy.

𖤐 If you’re feeling a little off, he’ll notice it before you even mention it and do something to make you feel better, whether it’s bringing you a hot drink or quietly holding your hand. “I noticed you were quiet today,” he’ll say, his voice soft but concerned. “Is everything okay?”

𖤐 Jongho loves showing off his strength, but he’s soft with you. feeling down about your body, he’ll remind you of all the ways you’re amazing, saying things like, “Your body is strong and beautiful, just like you.”

𖤐 Jongho is a quiet romantic, and nothing says “I love you” to him more than sharing his music with you. He’ll often hum or sing softly when you’re together, his voice like a lullaby that wraps around you.

𖤐 Sometimes, he’ll even make up little songs just for you, serenading you in the most tender way. “You make me feel so lucky,” he might sing, smiling at you as you relax by his side. His voice is comforting, and hearing him sing just for you feels like a gentle, loving embrace.

𖤐 Jongho doesn’t need grand displays of affection to show you he cares; it’s in the little things. He’s the type to send you thoughtful texts during the day, reminding you to take care of yourself. If you’re feeling tired, he’ll offer to take on a chore for you, or if you’re out together, he’ll carry your bags without a second thought. His gestures might be small, but they’re full of meaning, and they’re his way of saying, “I love you and I’m here for you.”

𖤐 Honestly? When Jongho loves you, he loves you deeply. He’s not the type to fall in love lightly, and once he’s in, he’s all in. You’ll find him sharing little details about his life, his hopes, and dreams, trusting you with the parts of him he usually keeps hidden. “I’ve never been able to open up like this before,” he’ll admit, his voice sincere. “But with you… it feels easy.”

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plussizeappreciationfics · 1 month ago

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Hi!! I am incredibly inspired by your work! Do we think a Choi San fic could be in the works? I just know he'd live his best life with a bigger woman

of course!

Being with Choi San includes:

Him being absolutely smitten by you, the love blooming between the two of you inspiring him to write new songs for Ateez, the songs breaking mulitple records

The entertainment company first being against your relationship, but Choi pushing through the pressure and setting clear boundaries that you´re a topic where no discussions will ever take place

The fandom trying to tear you down, so you put all of your social media accounts on private to stay sane. The Korean media hating the fact that they cannot access your pictures anymore to paint false narratives of you

Choi being the most loving and compassionate boyfriend you ever had, him making sure that your relationship never changes for the worst despite being a well known idol and having many other responsibilities

You tagging along when him and the group are having dance practices or doing photoshoots

Choi making sure that no one, and I mean no one, harasses or even gets too close for you as he has been through more than enough uncomfortable situations where staff members started to get real disrespectful

The other Ateez members loving you, first being shy but quickly locking you into their hearts as they see that you are meant to be with Choi, your love flourishing and making him thrive as a person

On his days off, Choi makes sure to pamper and spoil the fuck out of you, he takes you on the most exciting and luxurious or chill dates

The two of you getting along so well that marriage is already in the talks, just a few months into your relationship. Him knowing that you´re not someone to just mess with and dump, but to marry and cherish for the rest of your life

Him being your hype-man when you get insecure, making sure to show you with his whole body how beautiful and sexy you are. Like, you had never had a man yearn for you so much and so loudly

Choi not being able to get enough of your body, that man has always his hands on your wide hips or thick thighs, his lips are always kissing your face or neck and his sweet yet sedusive words making shivers run down your spine as he voices what he loves doing to your body

Your sex life being the best. Like the way that man knows your body inside out, makes you scream or almost cry in pleasure as hes buried deep inside you while making you maintain eye contact through it all, talks to you in the dirtiest yet sexiest way is just too much. It makes you feel so empowering and desirable

Choi loving your friends and family like his own and already discussing with your parents to ask for their permission to marry you one day

Him knowing that its the two of you against the world, and no one is allowed to disrespect you in any type of way

#ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #ateez smut #choi san #choi san x reader #choi san x plus size reader #plus size reader

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ldysmfrst · 6 months ago

Text

Incomplete (2) - A Soulmate in Los Angeles

Paring: Ateez OT8 x Plus-sized FemReader

Status: Ongoing series

Chapter number: 2 of unknown

Word count for Chapter: 7,218

Word count for Story: 10,594

Genre: Idol Soulmate AU

Warnings: NOT BETA READ!! This story will contain a bit of angst, fluff, smut, f/m, m/m, and m/f/m. This chapter contains a discussion of a family death (Hwa's grandpa) and y/n has an injury.

Story Summary: Ateez are soulmates who earned their way to Fame once they found each other. What happens when a new pull comes during their Towards The Light World Tour? Does 8 really make 1?

INCOMPLETE MASTER LIST / LDYSMFRST MASTER LIST

The van ride back to the hotel was quieter than usual. At Seonghwa’s insistence, they all piled into the same van for the short ride. He felt lost because he could not find who was pulling them and was still mourning his grandfather. Keeping his soulmates close by helped ease that feeling.

Mingi and Yunho took the captain's chairs in the front because they could get more room by locking them in the rear-facing mode and pushing them against the driver and passenger seats. Ever the cuddler, Mingi pulled Yeosang into his lap.

Wooyoung sat in the middle row on San’s lap to comfort his closest soulmate, who was still upset about not pinning the pull.

The youngest, Jongho, opted to sit next to San and Wooyong but tangled his legs with Yunho’s to create a connection with his tallest soulmate.

Hongjoong and Seonghwa sit at the very back of the van. Seonghwa's eyes glisten with emotions as the feeling of the pull disappears during the send-off.

“Hongjoong-ah… you didn’t feel anything? No pull? No scents? Nothing?” questions Seonghwa in hushed tones, trying to keep his voice from trembling with the mixed emotions he is getting through the bond.

Sighing, Hongjoong pulls his only older soulmate into his arms, “Honestly, my love, I didn’t feel anything during the show, but during the send-off… I smelt pine trees. Like a whole forest full, but they were burning with a smoldering scent.”

“That could have been someone with a lit fireplace, hyung,” comments Jongho.

“I thought that too, but it was coming from inside the stadium,” Hongjoong continued. “There was a group of Atiny walking up the stands around where San had paused in his pinning. I swear it came from them. Unfortunately, they were being rushed out, so it didn’t stay for long.”

“Excuse me, Sirs? We are here,” the driver announced.

Once the boys had entered the hotel, the manager pulled Hwa, Hongjoong, San, and Mingi into a conference room to discuss their findings.

“Be clear with me,�� the manager started. “I need to know what happened out there today. San’s crowd walking is already trending everywhere. Seonghwa, almost crying during the send-off, is raising questions about his mental health and the passing of his grandfather. Don’t even get me started with Mingi ‘being forced to dance while limping.’ What is going on?”

The soulmates look at each other, unsure of what more to say or how to start. Clearing his throat, Seonghwa takes a deep breath and gathers his thoughts.

“Manager-nim, do you remember the private talk we had during Coachella?” asks Seonghwa, gaining concerned looks from his soulmates when the manager nods in agreement.

“Hwa..” begins San, but Mingi shakes his head.

“After we filmed for Work here in Los Angeles, I felt like something was missing. At first, I thought the exhaustion from the shoot was getting to me when I felt the tightness in my chest. I even told the choreographers about maybe changing things until one of them convinced me I could do it.”

“I remember that. They said something like, “The Seonghwa I know could make it,” and then you had a new drive in you to prove yourself,” commented Hongjoong. “I was so proud of you when you pulled it off.”

“Thank you, but that tightness stuck with me. Even when we went back home.” Looking around at his soulmates, he continues, “Since no one else seemed to feel the same or recognize a pull, I went to manager-nim again, and he told me to take it easy and focus on Hush Hush since Coachella went so well.”

“Hyung, why didn’t you come and talk to us?” questions Mingi.

“We could have helped in LA. We walked around with you to see if anyone else could pick something up, Hyung,” whined San.

“Mingi, San. Now is not the time,” scolded Hongjoong. Turning his attention to the manager, he said, “Thank you for listening to Hwa and guiding him during that time, manager-nim.”

“You're welcome. I would have said something, but Seonghwa-ssi didn’t want to worry anyone with the new collaboration and the tour coming up.” Looking at Hwa, the manager asked, “Do you think this is that same pull?”

“I do. I think we might have a soulmate in Los Angeles.”

The room is filled with silence. Each soulmate pulls into themselves, trying to find clues to help prove Hwa’s assumption because none of them don’t believe him. They worry about how their missing soulmate feels and how to tell the others that there is one.

Soft whimpers break the stillness as a wave of guilt floods out of San, “How are we going to find them now? I couldn’t find them tonight, and LA is huge. We could look for days, weeks, or months and never find them. My pinning abilities didn’t work!”

Quickly, Seonghwa pulls San into his lap, “Sannie, you did so well tonight and on such short notice. You were able to find out the pull was coming from C2.”

“Did you say C2?” inquires the manager.

“Yeah, why?” presses Hongjoong. “Is there something special about that section?”

Flipping through his cell phone, the manager pulls up an email from BMO and KQ. Reading over it briefly, the manager grins, “Yes, actually. It turns out that the BMO event staff misdirected C2, C3, and C4 to the wrong entry gate, causing many of them to miss BE:FIRST and the start of the show.”

Narrowing his eyes at the manager, Hongjoong asks through gritted teeth, “How is making our Atiny miss the show something to smile about?”

Still smiling, “They all got complimentary tickets to the Grammy Museum. They are only good for the next 48 hours.”

A wash of confusion comes over the members.

“But we have the Hello82 event tomorrow and another show. How does that help?” prods Hongjoong with growing irritation.

“Easy. The Hello82 event is ticketed and set for the late morning, and the call time for the show isn’t until 4 p.m. So, instead of returning to the hotel to rest, you could always drop by the Grammy Museum to check out your exhibition,” offers the manager.

“How is that even?” Hongjoong starts.

“Wait a minute, Joongie,” Seonghwa interrupts. “Hello82 doesn’t start till 11:30 am. If we can convince Yunho to leave an anchor and Wooyoung to scent-mark the Museum before it opens, we might be able to trigger our soulmate’s ability or at least cause them to linger in the area.”

“Woo would do it! He already said he would help me in any way I thought,” San excitedly says, gaining a smile on his face with his now tear-puffed eyes.

Nodding in agreement, a pensive face comes over Mingi: “Yunho is always leaving anchors for us, so I am sure he wouldn’t mind leaving one to find our new mate, but I am not sure if either of our bears actually believe we have a new soulmate.”

Once the plans were set in motion, the soulmates retired for the night in their respectful rooms. Unlike what most Atiny thought, they were not paired up in their couplings because their soulmate abilities kind of blocked that when they were on tour.

Seonghwa’s ability to receive emotions from his soulmates makes sleeping difficult, as the others unknowingly share their dreams, nightmares, and worries throughout the day with him. This is why he bunks with Jongho. His ability allows him to influence others' emotions, and unlike the rest of the members, he doesn’t express his emotions when sleeping because he ends up acting as a barrier. This feels like a cocoon of comfort and relaxation for the eldest soulmate.

Hongjoong could scent his soulmates, each a different version of a pine tree. He was so attuned to them that he could act like one of those Alphas in Atiny’s fanfics and hunt down each member. Luckily, his match was Wooyoung and his lovely Mugo pine scent, which reminded the Captain of Christmas. As any Atiny would know, Wooyoung’s personality and love language is touch, but what they assumed was the need for skinship was Woo’s using his ability to leave his scent behind on his soulmates.

Yunho and Yeosang found balance with each other. Yunho eased Yeosang's tension, which was caused by Yeosang’s ability to pull his soulmates close. By placing his anchor on Yeosang’s soul, Yunho effectively allowed Yeo to latch on to him and only him. During their sleep, it was like they created their own universe when it was just the two of them latching on to each other physically and metaphysically.

That left San and Mingi. While San could pin onto each of his soulmates, almost like an internal GPS, and Mingi could use his ability to feel what his soulmates were feeling physically, neither of their abilities was constantly active. The two didn’t need a counterpart to relax, so they would either share a room or take turns bunking with another set during the tours.

When San joined KQ, the vibrations from Hongjoong, Yunho, and Mingi were so strong that it was easy to find them huddled in a recording studio. It was like being a dolphin and using echolocation to find them. After that, it was almost like the others started gravitating toward them, which made it easy.

Mingi only felt his mates' physical emotions when they became overwhelming. Sometimes, he could tell when it was getting to that point, and instead of waiting for the overflow, he would absorb the feelings: pain, anger, hopelessness, all of it.

After a night's rest and an early breakfast, the boys gathered in the same conference room. This time, a few of their personal bodyguards, who knew about the soulmate bond, and the manager joined them.

“Now that everyone is here, we have something essential to talk about,” Hongjoong started, then looked to Seonghwa to explain.

After retelling the story of the Music Video Work issues and what they had discussed last night, he said, “We have to find our missing part.”

“Why are you looking at me?” Jongho spoke up with a firm voice, eyeing Mingi, who hadn’t stopped watching him since the meeting started.

Mingi’s ears turn pink after being caught. Darting his eyes away from his youngest soulmate, he replies, “You… you haven’t said much since all of this started, neither has Yunho, and I am concerned that you guys won’t be on board.”

“Mingi is right. You even dismissed Joong-hyung from the van last night, Jongho-ah,” Wooyoung comments before turning to Yunho. “Why are you so quiet? Do you think Hwa-hyung is wrong?”

“I never said he was wrong. I never said any of you were wrong but I wonder why Yeosang-hyung hasn’t felt the pull yet, that is all,” Yunho answers.

When this name is mentioned, Yeosang gets pulled out of his thoughts. Looking around the table, he smiles softly, “I don’t think I haven’t.”

This shocks everyone at the table. A flurry of questions gets thrown at the 99-liner.

“My loves, wait a minute. Let me explain, please.” After the questions die down and a simple nod from Hwa, Yeosang continues, “With each of you, I feel this thick and solid rope like a Mooring line attached to each of you that I can tug on. Plus, when we found each other, there wasn’t an entire stadium between us.”

“You feel another one of these mooring lines?” asks Jongho.

“No, I don’t, but I felt something like a plaited silk rope slip around me when we said good night, and it felt good,” Yeosang says, smiling to himself as he recalls the feeling. “However, because manager-nim had instructed me and others to concentrate on the other side of the stage, it slipped off. Then I couldn’t find it again, so I chalked it up to being excited about ending an amazing show.”

“Now do you think that anymore?” pushes Jongho.

Shaking his head, Yeo replies, “It has to be our soulmate. I looked it up on my phone after Yuyu fell asleep. Others with the same ability in group bonds say that the pull can feel different because it tends to be gender specific.”

A resounding “WHAT” fills the room as shock takes over everyone. Each soulmate’s mind reels with this new information. Adding another soulmate was a challenge, but having a woman soulmate, a lady to pamper, and a female to connect with was its own obstacle.

San felt almost relieved because this could explain why his pinning wasn’t working well. Once he pinned the section, he was only pinning towards the male Atinies. He had used a more resounding, darker melody with each of his bonded mates, almost like something from Pirates of the Caribbean.

“Yunho,” Mingi called his twin tower. “Do you remember asking about my back because I was limping?”

“Yeah, you have been having problems with it for a while now. Why?”

“I was still limping last night after the show-up until about time for the send-off. I am starting to think our soulmate has an injury,” states Mingi.

Concern floods into Seonghwa from all of his soulmates. Grabbing Jungho quickly to stop himself from breaking into tears, he asks, “You mean she was in pain while watching the concert? How could she have enjoyed being there if she was overflowing in pain?”

“I don’t think it was that bad the entire time,” Mingi contemplates. “I think the pain for me started even before the sound check. It was dull and throbbing, but there was nothing too much until we went on, and it got intense. I am sure that is why Yunho noticed me limping.”

“How come I couldn’t feel her pain, too? If it was that bad I should have felt something,” worries Seonghwa.

“Hwa, my love. Maybe she was so happy to see us that the pain was only physical,” Hongjoong attempts to console his ever-caring mate.

“Don’t be so self-centered, Joong. Our mate was in severe physical pain!”

“Seonghwa-hyung,” says Jongho, cupping Hwa’s face and pulling his attention to him while pushing calming notes and dampening the rest of the room. “She could have used pain medication to help keep it tolerable. If anything, I would wager we have a stubborn, independent, and intelligent lady for a soulmate, hum?”

“You think so?” implores Hwa. The feeling of failing to care for a new soulmate he has never seen slowly subsides at the youngest’s words.

“I don’t think so. I know so because only a woman like that will be able to handle a bonded group like us,” teases Jongho.

With murmurs and remarks of agreement coupled with chuckles, the tension in the form finally releases.

“So now what do we do?” asks Yunho. “How are we going to find this ladymate?”

“That is where you and Wooyoung come in,” pipes up the manager.

“I’ll do it!” agrees Wooyoung almost before the manager finishes talking, again pulling chuckles from the room.

“Last night, there was backlash about how BMO misdirected Atiny to sections C2, C3, and C4,” the manager puts his hands up before anyone can start chiming in. “They have rectified their mistake by giving them tickets to the Grammy Museum, which will be available only for the next 48 hours.”

“But we will be at Hello82,” confronts Wooyoung.

“Yes, Wooyoung-ssi. But that isn’t until after 11 am, which means, if we leave now, we can stop by the Grammy Museum, where Yungho can leave anchors and Wooyoung can scent mark the area. Then after we leave Hello82, we all can go back and see if anyone is waiting before you have to report back to BMO.”

“But what if she leaves before we get there or comes after we leave? What if she doesn’t come at all? She might have been one of those non-stan friends that just went to have fun. It doesn’t mean she will come to the museum,” worries Wooyoung.

Pulling Wooyoung into his lap, San holds him close, saying, “My baby, you knew Yeosang was your soulmate before the two of you found us, right?”

Wooyoung nodded and went to speak, only for San to grip his neck, effectively silencing him as he continued, “She has to feel something from last night. No matter if she was a fan or not. Having a bonded group the size of ours is not something easily resisted. Like Little Bear said, she is a smart cookie, and I am sure her curiosity about or love for us will push her to come to the museum at some point today.”

“Now be a good boy and go with our Big Bear to help us find our missing lady-mate,” San orders with a kiss to Wooyoung’s temple.

With San’s orders, the meeting wraps up rather quickly. Everyone but Wooyoung and Yunho pile into the main van to head up the Hello82, while the manager, two personal bodyguards, and WooYu head to the museum.

Being the ever-efficient manager that he is, the museum waits for their arrival and ushers them inside quickly. Then, the museum directs the group up the elevator to the correct floor. It still sends a fluttering feel through the idols to see their stuff on display for any Atiny to come and see.

Stopping in front of their exhibit, the attendant looks around. “Mr. Jung, you can go ahead. The museum has already been informed that you need to make contact with the different pieces, we just ask that you refrain from touching non-Ateez related items.”

With that, Wooyoung takes off with a bodyguard, touching everything and doing anything he can. Of course, he leaves heavier markers on his personal items on display.

“There aren’t places to sit down and wait around here. Are there, miss?” Yunho asks with a frown.

She shakes her head and states, “This museum isn’t like most. People spend maybe an hour looking at everything before they might make a purchase downstairs and leave. We have thought about finding a bigger venue but not yet.”

Disappointment blooms in Yunho’s chest. How can he make an anchor for his ladymate with an injured foot when she must stand the whole time? Taking his time walking around all their old stuff, he notices someone turning on a TV screen that shows the making of their music videos, then walks around another wall where he hears rather loud talking.

His curiosity peaks as he follows the worker to find a documentary playing to celebrate the 40th anniversary of Michael Jackson’s mini-movie music video Thriller…with backless benches!

“Woo! Wooyoung!” called Yunho, surprising his soulmate.

“Yeah? What is it, Yunho?” he asks, coming around the same corner. “Oh, isn’t that the famous King of Pop guy?”

“Huh? Oh yes but here. Benches. I can leave the anchor here,” remarks Yunho, no longer caring about the video.

Looking down at the benches, Wooyoung has a befuddled look on his face. “Really? This is an entirely different exhibit.”

“I know that but if she is really our soulmate, she has to have an interest in music. Anyone who is anyone that loves music would want to at least look at the rest of the exhibits on this level plus its a famous video. Also, if she is hurt like Mingi says then she will need to sit down and this is the only place to sit on this level.”

“Valid. I guess this will work. Maybe you can leave another anchor on the first floor at the gift shop, too? Maybe it will cause her to linger here for longer?”

“That is a good idea, too. Okay, let me anchor here while you finish up, and then we will anchor and scent the same spot on the first floor.”

Closing his eyes, Yunho reaches into his soul and pushes down. Down from his head, down through his heart to his feet, and latches onto the floor. Most of the world doesn’t understand what it takes to set an anchor for soulmates with the ability to anchor. The anchor must leave three things behind a piece of their soul, mind, and heart.

Once he is done, Yunho heads back to the elevator and heads back down with everyone. Stepping out of the elevator, they notice people have started to line up outside. Dawning their masks and bucket hats, Wooyoung and Yunho get to work quickly, choosing a place near their merch to scent and anchor before slipping out the back and heading off to Hello82.

The Hello82 event is a blur for Ateez. They try really hard to be in the now and not in the shoulda, coulda, woulda's of the past or the gonna, needas, and bettas of the future. Seonghwa even goes as far as pretending to be a stan and gets signatures from the rest of the band.

It feels like an eternity before they say goodbye to the fantastic Atiny attending the event and head to the Grammy Museum. It amazes them every time they hold these events at how packed the rooms are and the stans that just hang outside for a glimpse. The ride is filled with chatter about the outfits they saw Atiny wear.

Hongjoon mentions that he can smell pine, but it is incredibly faint and could have been a cleaning product or the scent that had lingered from the day before. None of the rest had gotten any hints that their missing ladymate had attended the event, which put them on edge and filled their heads with what-ifs.

Again, the museum staff knew Ateez would be coming, but they had been instructed to refrain from making announcements or attempting to draw a crowd. They entered through a rear entrance and stood in a stock room, waiting for their manager or a museum attendant to take the lead.

It’s not until Hongjoon takes a deep breath that he smells it and says, “Pine, it's here and still kinda burnt. It’s different from anyone here but close to Mingi’s Maritime Pine. I can’t tell how fresh it is from here. Let’s go in groups. Yunho and Jongho, come with Hwa and I. Yeo, Mingi, Wooyoung go together. San, I know you can pin better when you are on your own, is that good?”

With agreements all around, San heads out first, followed by Mingi’s group and the last is Captain’s group.

San’s ability to find unique vibrations and sounds that non-pinning soulmates can’t hear or feel helps with their music and keeps everyone on tempo. It's hard to hear the resonance of a new soulmate ring back in a venue like BMO. Getting to the correct floor, San is grateful that there are not many people present. However, the lack of people also worries him.

Reaching within himself, San finds a new tune, a lifting melody, to ping out. It's like a sea shanty and hopefully will resonate with the missing ladymate.

Nothing.

Moving towards the farther side of the exhibition, he tries again.

Nothing.

With a frustrated sigh, San promises to find the ladymate and acknowledge the red thread that binds them all. Hongjoong said pine was here, which means the missing mate was in this building at some point since scents can flow through the vents, unlike his pinning. For it to work, a direct path must be open between San and his new soulmate.

Looking up at the elevator doors as they open, San shakes his head to alert Mingi, who stepped out first, that he wasn’t getting anything. Pointing to the stairs, the other two mates nod in understanding and watch San head to a lower floor.

Wooyoung, at this point, feels useless in helping any more than he has. He just hoped that his scent caused the ladymate to linger. The longer she stayed, the higher chance she was still here and would react to another ability within the bonded group.

Mingi is in the same boat. He always hated that he gained one of the passive abilities of the mate bonds. With how helpless he felt about it earlier in their career, he had taken a hiatus and heavily contemplated breaking the bond. It was Yunho who convinced him otherwise. He claimed Mingi as his center, like SanWoo, JonYeo, and HongHwa claimed each other. But who would be the ladymate’s center?

Walking around their exhibition was like a flash from the not-so-distant past. Mingi enjoyed watching a small Atiny try to dance along with the music video playing on a TV on the wall before he heard another TV going behind him. Following the sound, Mingi found himself watching a documentary completely in English about the King of Pop.

Figuring he could sit for a bit and watch it while Yeosang did his thing, Mingi plopped down on one of the backless benches, and that was when the pain started. It wasn’t like it was at BMO, but it was present. It was almost like his missing soulmate had sat there and just dumped all the pain out into the space.

“Gi, I can’t find anything,” Yeosang and Wooyoung say, walking up to him in the slightly secluded view room. It’s Woo who notices Mingi’s pained expression.

“Gi, are you alright? Is it you, or is it our ladymate?” Wooyoung says, kneeling before Mingi and grabbing his hand to comfort him. His eyes are filled with concern. Smiling with a pained brow, he tells the two about what he feels and suspects has happened.

“Maybe she overdid it last night, and coming here didn’t help,” offers the youngest. “She may be more stubborn than we thought. It is interesting that she can just leave her pain here though. I have never heard of that ability.”

“Are you going to be able to walk, Gi?” questions Yeosang.

“What’s wrong with Gi?” Hwa asks, coming around the corner with his grouping.

After listening to Mingi explain what San had signaled and what he felt, Hwa became more determined to find his ladymate. Not only is she missing, but she (in his mind) is gravely injured. “Emotional resonance from a soulmate only lasts maybe 20 minutes at max. She was just here. Yunho?”

“My anchor is gone. She must have absorbed it from this room when she rested here. Let’s go down to the merch area and see if the anchor is still there,” suggested Yunho.

With that, everyone took the elevator down and followed Yunho. Closing his eyes, Yunho reached for his other anchor and found that it, too, was missing. Shaking his head with his eyes downcast, he realizes there is nothing else he can do. His anchors weren’t strong enough to keep their ladymate from leaving.

“Her pine is here. She was here,” Hongjoong declares quietly, trying not to bring a crowd.

“You aren’t wrong, love. I can feel the pull again. Mingi?” Hwa asks, eyes imploring the gentle giant, who nods in agreement but is leaning against Yunho because of the pain now concentrated in his ankle.

“The plaited silk rope is back!” exclaims Yeosang. “I can feel it, but I can’t tug on it. She is still too far away, do you think she left the building?”

The slightly winded San speedwalks to the group, “She is outside. I think she is headed to the parking garage. Let’s go. NOW.”

“San, take Yeosang, Seonghwa, and Jongho with you. Stay together. The rest of us will come with Mingi.” This sends a flash of confusion across San’s face as he looks at Mingi with questioning and worried eyes. “

“I will explain later,” commands Hongjoong as he takes on the role of captain in situations like this.

At his words, half the bonded group practically jogs out of the museum and onto the streets of downtown LA. Bodyguards discreetly follow behind them so as not to interfere with their search.

The rest of the group follows at a quickened walk. Mingi is clearly limping, which doesn’t go unnoticed by some fellow museum attendees. The stunned looks, pointed cell phones, and not-so-hush-hush squealing tell them they have been found out.

Looking over his shoulder, Hongjoong sees their manager and the last bodyguards starting to head off the fans attempting to approach. Under different circumstances, Ateez would gladly stop and meet their international Atiny, but they had a soulmate to catch.

The whole ride back to your friend’s house is spent staring at the ungodly amount of photos and videos you took. Of course, they were mainly of Seonghwa and San, but what shocked you was the surprising number of Mingi shots you had.

“Hey, I know we have talked about who our favorites are. Mine are Seonghwa and San. Yours, Kat, is Hongjoong. Cindy, you have two like me… Yeosang and Jongho, right?” you suddenly call out from the backseat.

“Damn, Y/n, you’re alive? I thought we had lost you to post-concert depression already. The first time is the worst,” joked Kat.

“Ha. ha. I am just editing my photos and stuff. It’s strange, though. I have so many of Mingi,” you say, rolling your eyes.

“We soooo should have done the pre/post bias TikTok trend,” laughs Cindy. “I think Someone lost their place in y/n’s heart.”

“Nono. No. The majority is still of my Hwa and my mountain. It’s just that there is an almost equal amount of Mingi. Was he hurt before the concert? In this video it looks like he is limping,” your chest tugs at the thought of Mingi being hurt as you show the video to the front seat at the stop light.

“Huh, you’re right. It does look like it,” comments Kat, taking your phone and flipping through your photos. “Looks like your boyfriends and Mingi kept to our side of the stage, which is unusual.”

“I noticed that during the concert. My pretty boys kept running to the other side. That is why I stopped trying to take pictures,” huffs Cindy.

Driving the additional 30 minutes home felt like pulling your ankle off at the joint. Guess this is what you get from trying to dress like a pirate and wearing heeled boots on uneven grass.

Climbing into bed, you put ice on your swollen ankle sprain and take more painkillers. You had been taking them all night after being shoved by some impatient twinks that wanted to get past the merch line.

Your boot heel had sunk into a hole or made its own from how long you had been standing there. You went down hard, and your foot was instantly in pain, but you swallowed it down because you were not about to ruin this for Cindy or Kat.

Sleep comes quickly and is filled with Matz stealing you away for a night on the town, SanWoo cuddling with you while you watch movies, Twin Towers treating you to a beautiful dinner, and even JonYeo walking with you along the beach.

RingRingRingRing

Buzz,Buzz,Buzzzzzzzzz

KNOCKKNOCKKNOCK

“What… the… HELL,” you scream at the coarse and abrupt sounds waking you from your amazing dreams. Dragging your not-awake-yet ass to the front door, still clad in your PJs and limping slightly, you jerk open the door to find Cindy and Kat standing there bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.

“Jesus! You rose from the dead. Finally,” Kat says with a laugh, handing you something in a bag and pushing past you.

“Here,” Cindy smiles and hands you your favorite Starbucks drink. “It has an extra two shots.”

After taking a long drink of the Cafe Vanilla Frap, you close the door and stare at the two soon-to-be-ex friends, “You have one chance to tell me why you are here, or I will kick you out.”

“Grumpy butt,” mutters Kat.

“We tried calling and texting for the last two hours, but we don’t have much time before we catch our plane back to Washington,” pleads Cat. “We brought treats to apologize, but we figured you would want to take advantage of the free tickets to the Ateez exhibit at Grammy Museum that we were comp-ed.”

Sitting on the couch, you pull out the Sausage and Cheddar Muffin from Starbucks. Okay, they get bonus points for getting the right one. “Keep talking. You said they are comp-ed? How?” you question before taking a large bite from the yummy breakfast treat.

Pulling out her phone, Kat reads over an email she got from BMO apologizing for their shit directions and causing several attendees to miss performances. As compensation, they gave each ticket holder a ticket.

“If we leave here in the next 10 minutes, we can make it there. We have about three hours to meander and get you back in time for our plane. We already packed the rental car with all our stuff,” explains Cindy.

“Hence, why we're practically breaking down your door. Let's wrap your ankle, get you in some clothes, and you can finish eating in the car,” Kat says as they head down the hall to your room.

After finally deciding to wear jeans and the tour sleeveless shirt you bought, you wrapped your ankle and donned tennis shoes, and out the door, you went. Oh, and painkillers were on board, too. That was a must.

The drive took about an hour, which gave you plenty of time to discuss each other's concert-induced dreams. It was a relief that you weren’t the only one because that meant either you were completely normal, or your friends were just as delusional as you are.

It’s lovely how, even with a GPS, it is still challenging to find places in cities like Hollywood and LA. All the tall buildings block signals. It’s irritating how we can put Bluetooth cameras in sunglasses now, but we can’t get GPS signals through a building yet.

At this point, Cindy has given up on the GPS recalculating at every street, and the three of you are just looking for something that may resemble a museum. That’s when you feel something, like a pull or a nudge, to look to your right. “There it is! Next to that, Fixin something something restaurant.”

“Wow, that's a good eye! I would have never seen it,” says Kat, who is sitting on the same side as you. “I guess the museum is smaller than what I was looking for. It looks just like an office building. How did you see that?”

“I don know. I just had a feeling and looked then poof there it was,” you giggle. “Anyways, let’s park in the structure and head in. Maybe my ankle will chill out if I use it a bit more. Right now, it is not happy, that is for sure.”

Unlike finding the place, parking was a piece of cake. Grabbing your concert bag you hadn’t unpacked last night; you smile at the plushie and photocards hanging off it.

“Are you still happy I got SANdeoki instead of DDEONGbyeoli? I only got her because you had recently been sending me a lot of Instagram links of San, and she is purple, " Cindy asks.

Bringing SANdeoki up to your face, you hug and kiss her on the forehead. “I love her. I was thinking now that I have her and the face card holder, I am starting to look like a real Atiny.” That pulls laughs from everyone as you head up to finally see and learn more about these eight Korean men who crashed into your world of music.

It is interesting how having those two Ateez items on a cross-body bag is the green light for any random Atiny to start talking to you. Between the car and getting to the correct floor of the museum, you got a few waves, a couple of finger hearts, and some short conversations.

Of course, Cindy and Kat knew this would happen and flowed right with everything, but you, on the other hand, were a little taken back. However, once you explained that you were a baby Atiny, the randos calmed down and became encouraging.

Once you redeemed your ticket, the staff directed you to the right floor and pointed out the elevator. When the doors opened, your face lit up. You hear playful scoffing from behind you as Kat says, “Oh no. Y/n is in heaven now. Not only does she get to see Ateez's stuff, but they also have the MJ thing still up.”

“Hey, what can I say? I am ployJAMorus,” you comment. Kat isn’t wrong. You loved Michael Jackson and the Jackson 5. Most of your music tastes were before your time until K-pop came along. “Ateez first, then MJ, and then we can check out the other levels if you guys want. With how small this place is, I am sure we can see the whole place in less than an hour.”

And that is what you did.

The music video costumes, props, and Ateez's history were all there, and you read everything. You also saw some stuff from Xikers, who you learned were from KQ Entertainment, considered the next gen of K-pop and dongsaengs to Ateez.

“Y/n, are you trying to smell Wooyoung’s clothes or do you just normally sniff glass?” Kat asks with her arms crossed. “Cindy, I think y/n needs to touch some grass. The concert overloaded her normal OS.”

“What?” You snap out of it. “I wasn’t trying to sniff his clothes. If I’d sniff anyone’s clothes, it would be Seonghwa’s. Get it right. I just noticed the excellent pine scent in this area, almost like those Christmas tree candles from the Yankee Candle Company.”

Slightly embarrassed, you take a deep breath to smell it again but play it off as a stretch while rolling your ankle around. Frowning, you note that it hasn’t stopped throbbing, but you still want to look around. Limping your way over to the Michael Jackson side of the floor, you check out all the jeweled jackets he once wore.

Gosh, you knew you would get excited to see all the cool stuff because music would have been your life if you had any confidence in yourself. The tingling in your chest and the calmness of being surrounded by greatness is warming.

Turning around a corner, you notice a mini theater that practically pulls you in. Nothing is playing on the screen, but there are benches where you can at least rest to give your ankle a break. Once seated, you close your eyes, take a deep, centering breath, fill your lungs with that calming pine, and try to relax every muscle in your body.

Mind over matter has been your practice in life.

As you feel each muscle release, a sense of kinship comes over you. It’s not long before you relax from head to toe, settling restless thoughts and sore muscles along the way. Luckily for you, the pain in your ankle subsides.

By the time you open your eyes, Cindy and Kat have joined you, and the screen is playing a documentary on Thriller. You convince your friends to stay and watch it because that music video was the pinnacle of changing the direction of how things were done, and you felt like you were supposed to stay.

When the show was over, though, they decided it was time to move on, and you really couldn’t tell them you were content with just sitting there without sounding strange.

However, when you left, the feeling of kinship stayed with you. It even grew when you got to the souvenir store near the main entrance. Sadly, there wasn’t much within your price range to buy. You kept returning to the Ateez mech, wanting to buy something but never feeling like you had found what kept you coming back.

Cindy and Kat, complaining about being hungry, finally pulled you away from the store and over to what you now know as Fixins Soul Kitchen. It was pretty much an expensive “Hollywood” take on Roscoe's Chicken ‘n’ Waffles. Since you have already eaten breakfast on the way down, you decide to get a salad and chat about everything and anything you can think of.

Full bellies, good memories, and great friends are a fantastic way to end Cindy and Kat’s trip. You, of course, pay for everyone’s meal and a final gift and meander out to the sidewalk.

“Hey, look at the crowd outside of the museum,” Kat comments. Feeling that strange pull to the building, you move to walk towards it.

“Either it was a good thing we came early because it is more popular than we thought or someone famous is inside. Kinda wish we had more time to check it out but we gotta get going if we are going to get you home and catch the plane on time,” says Cindy almost wistfully.

“Yeah,” you absentmindedly say as the strangest feeling comes over you. It’s like a ghost-like tug pulls at your chest while a melody plays in your head that you know you have never heard of before.

“Earth to Y/n! We gotta go unless you wanna pay like $60 for an Uber home,” Cindy remarks, regaining your attention. Shaking your head and rubbing your chest, you turn away from the crowd and follow your friends to the parking garage.

What is going on with you, you contemplate. Yesterday, you felt like you didn’t want to leave BMO stadium, but today, you don’t want to leave the Grammy Museum. Are you that music or socially deprived that you want to hold on to everything?

The tugging in your chest strengthens with each foot forward, slowing your steps. It feels like a thick rope binding you and pulling you back the other way, but you know your friends have limited time, and you can’t afford the Uber.

You softly start to hum the melody that is crescendoing in your mind, blocking out the excited commotion and hurried steps approaching you. You are so in your own thoughts, with your eyes naturally cast downwards, that seeing the world around you ends until you run into a wall.

Putting your hands on the wall you ran into… it feels kinda warm. Blinking yourself back into the world around you, the first thing you notice is that the wall is wearing… shoes.

Startled and embarrassed by walking right into someone, you step back and drop your hand from their body. However, you find yourself running into someone else as their warm hands fall on your cold arms. Snapping your head up, you see the muscled man in front of you for a split second before you look over your shoulder at the person behind you.

Freezing in place. You think yourself crazy until you catch the movement of someone else.

No.

No way.

Looking to your right and left, recognizable Korean men surround you, but it can't be. Panic starts to settle in as you finally hear the commotion around you. That is when more men join the circle encompassing you.

Taking a step forward gets halted by the man at your back saying, “Wait, please.”

“This isn’t real,” you say softly, your eyes never settling on any men boxing you in.

With a warm smile, the mountain of a man steps forward and says, “Hello Miss, I am Choi San. I think the nine of us need to sit down and talk.”

Previous / Next

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samoankpoper21 · 16 days ago

Text

Spicy Ramen

Sakusa Kiyoomi x chubby! reader

Word count: 149

Content warnings: NONE~^^ well maybe grammar errors

Genre: fluff

A/N: Random Sakusa drabble to warm us up during this cold weather^^ Enjoy~!!

⊱ ─── ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ ─── ⊰ ⊱ ─── ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ ─── ⊰

Sakusa hated spicy foods; he doesn't understand why people would willingly put their taste buds through that torture and yet here he was sitting 2 chairs away from you handing you napkins with a grimace on his face, his mask concealing it; watching your nose run, sweat gathering on your forehead, as you happily slurped up the noodles with a smack of your lips, taking the proffered napkin dabbing at your mouth. "I don't understand why you would eat something spicy if you can't handle it."

"Because it's good!"

"You look disgusting." Playfully sticking out your tongue dismissing him you turned back to your ramen gathering strands in between your chopsticks humming as you took another bite. However, what Sakusa didn't hate was how your already chubby cheeks looked filled with food; how your eyes closed and you hummed in contentment at the spicy contents. So, no, he doesn't really hate spicy food. Not when it's you enjoying it.

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ─── ─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ─── ─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ─── >>

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ateezscupid · 19 days ago

Text

─── FEB FILTH FEST: I Wanna Be Yours - AGE GAP ♡

SUMMARY / You started to develop a crush on your college professor, but had to distance yourself from him when it turned into more than a silly "crush."

warnings ✩ SMUT, FLUFF, DOM/SUB dynamics, ANGST in the beginning, older!san (35), younger!reader (24), age gap, cliche student x teacher trope, soft dom!san, sub!reader, unprotected sex, vanilla vanilla vanilla, public sex? (nobody sees them but they're in a library), oral (f), praise, size kink, san is basically a gentle giant

word count ✩ 3,89k

tags ✩ @desirehorizon @felixs-voice-makes-me-wanna @starillusion13 @mingitheskzstan @bbdeongi @dawn-iscozy @xh01bri @mallielovssyou @clxssy1997 @soreberry @nopension @kitten4sannie @faeriehwas @lustfxq @ashistrashhhhhh @hwallazia

ATEEZ MASTERLIST / REQUEST / FEB FILTH FEST

"Y/N? You're my highest ranking student. Do you know the answer?" San's voice cut through the dense silence of the classroom, his gaze landing on you. You felt your cheeks redden as all eyes turned to you. The intensity of his stare made your heart race, and you realized you hadn't heard the question. Panic set in, but you took a deep breath and hoped for the best.

"Um," you blink and sit up straight. "I-I wasn't--I wasn't paying attention." The words tumble out, and you can feel the heat spread from your cheeks to your neck. San's gaze lingers for a moment before he nods and moves on to the next student. You sigh with relief, dropping your eyes to your notebook.

You were only in your 20s, while San was well into his 30s so close to being considered middle aged. Even though, some people consider 35 middle aged, so it honestly didn't matter to you.

Every time you would do as little as fantasize having a life with him, you knew it would never happen. Why would he even date someone that much younger than him? And, even if by some miracle he did, you were his student. It was wrong, unprofessional, and you weren't ready for any rumors to start flying. Plus, he had his career to think about, and you had your future. You had to maintain a respectful distance.

So, one random day, you decided to distance yourself from him and you went as far as to drop out of his class. You switched your major, hoping that would help ease the ache in your heart, but it didn't. San's influence lingered everywhere, in the corridors where you heard his laugh echo, in the library where you had studied together, in the cafeteria where you had shared a table, and even in the quiet solitude of your dorm room where you had dreamed of a life beyond the confines of academia.

And here you were, eating by yourself in the empty library café, surrounded by the ghosts of your past happiness. The scent of stale coffee and dusty books filled your nose, a stark contrast to the fresh scent of San's aftershave that had once made your heart flutter. You pushed the textbook away, unable to focus on the words that blurred before your eyes.

"Y/N?" San's voice called out from behind you, and your heart skipped a beat. You hadn't seen him since the day you dropped his class, and now here he was, standing in the library café, looking more handsome than ever in his tweed jacket and glasses.

"P-Professor-?" you stutter, your voice shaking slightly. You swivel in your chair, trying to compose yourself, but your heart won't cooperate.

"I've been meaning to talk to you but it feels like you're…avoiding me?" San's brow furrowed with genuine concern. His eyes searched yours, looking for an explanation. You felt your throat tighten, unsure of what to say. The truth felt too raw, too embarrassing to admit.

"It's just…I needed to focus on my studies, Professor," you managed to say, hoping the lie wasn't too transparent. "Switching majors has been a bit overwhelming."

"Then why not stay with me?" San asked, his voice gentle but firm. "You had a knack for my class, and I was looking forward to seeing how far you'd go."

"I-It was something personal…" you murmured, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. The lie tasted bitter on your tongue, but you knew you had to protect him and yourself from the mess your feelings could create. San took a step closer, his gaze never leaving yours.

He sits across from you, his eyes filled with curiosity and a hint of confusion. "Is everything okay?" he asks, his voice laced with care. You nod, trying to keep your composure, but his closeness is too much to handle. You can feel the warmth emanating from his body, and it sends a shiver down your spine.

"I can't say, it's…" You stop mid-sentence, the words lodging in your throat. San's eyes searched yours, and for a moment, you thought he might see the truth. But instead, he offered a small, understanding smile.

"You can tell me anything." San's hand reached out and placed itself gently on top of yours, his thumb tracing comforting circles. His touch sent a jolt of electricity through you, and you had to resist the urge to pull away.

"…I-It's you." The words slipped out before you could stop them, and you felt your cheeks flush even hotter.

San's hand stilled on yours, and he looked surprised, then a soft smile spread across his face. "What do you mean, 'it's me'?" he asked, his voice gentle.

"I mean… I had a crush on you," you blurted out, feeling your heart pound in your chest. The words hung in the air like a confession in a quiet church, and you waited for his reaction, bracing yourself for the worst. "Well, I thought it was a crush until it got…worse."

San's expression grew serious, his smile fading slightly. He removed his hand from yours and leaned back in his chair, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "Worse?" he repeated.

"I know it's inappropriate and wrong," you rushed to explain, your voice barely a whisper. "But I couldn't help it. I had to get away, so I switched majors. I'm sorry if I disappointed you or made things awkward."

San leaned in, his eyes locking onto yours, and for a moment, the world around you faded into the background. "Y/N, it's not awkward. It's…unexpected," he said, his voice filled with a hint of something you hadn't heard before—vulnerability. "But it's not unwelcome."

Your heart stuttered in your chest, and you felt your eyes widen. "What do you mean?"

San took a deep breath, his gaze never leaving yours. "I mean that I've noticed the way you look at me, the way you hang on my every word. And I've felt something too." His voice was low, almost a murmur, as if he was sharing a secret.

The confession hit you like a sledgehammer, leaving you momentarily speechless. You stared at him, trying to process what he had just said. Could it be possible that he felt the same way?

"I've noticed it too, Y/N," San continued, his voice soft and measured. "But I never acted on it because I knew it would be wrong. I've always respected my students' boundaries, and I respect you more than anyone."

"San, please." You whispered his name, the weight of the situation pressing down on you. "I don't care if I'm your student."

He leaned back again, his gaze dropping to the table. "But I do." His voice was firm, yet tinged with sadness. "It's not just about us. There's the university policy, our careers, and-"

"I've literally fantasized about you." The words slipped out before you could stop them, and you felt the air thicken around you. San's eyes widened for a fraction of a second before his expression softened.

"Y/N," he began, his voice low and careful. "You know I care about you. You're an incredible student, and as your teacher, it's my job to support and guide you. But these feelings… They're complicated."

"Do you or do you not like me back?" You blurted out, unable to contain your emotions any longer. The question hung in the air, a silent plea for him to confirm what you hoped was true.

San's gaze remained on you, his eyes searching yours. "I do," he admitted, his voice a mere whisper. "But we can't let it affect our professional relationship."

"Then it won't, but please. I don't care if I have to date you in private." You looked at him with hopeful eyes, desperate for some kind of connection.

San sighed heavily, his eyes never leaving yours. "You don't understand, Y/N. It's not that simple."

You sigh and nod, standing up and grabbing your bag. "I understand," you say, trying to sound firm despite the shakiness in your voice.

He reached across the table and grabbed your arm, his grip firm but gentle. "Please, sit." His eyes searched yours, and you felt the weight of his gaze. You sat back down, your heart racing.

You snatch your arm away and walk around the table so you were face-to-face with him, looking into his eyes. "You don't have to say it," you whispered, your voice shaking with emotion. "Y-You want to stay professional so if all I need to do is stay away from you then I will-"

You were interrupted by San's hand, which he placed on your cheek and before you knew it, he was kissing you. It was a gentle kiss, but filled with so much passion and longing that it stole your breath away. Your eyes closed instinctively, and you melted into the kiss, your arms wrapping around his neck. The world outside the library faded into a distant memory, and for a moment, all that mattered was the feeling of his lips against yours.

He pulled away for only a moment, his eyes searching your face, looking for permission to continue. You nodded, your eyes brimming with unshed tears of joy. San leaned back in, his lips meeting yours again in a kiss that spoke of a longing that had been simmering beneath the surface for so long.

The kiss grew more intense, and you felt your knees tremble. It was everything you had ever dreamed of, and the reality was so much better than any fantasy. His hands moved to the small of your back, pulling you closer, and you felt the warmth of his body against yours. The scent of his cologne, something you had secretly come to adore, filled your senses, and you knew you never wanted to be anywhere else.

You tugged at his shirt, pulling him closer, feeling his hands slide down to your waist as the kiss deepened. His fingers traced the curves of your body, sending sparks of pleasure through every nerve. San's eyes searched yours, and you knew he was just as lost in the moment as you were.

"Sir," you murmured, your voice muffled by his shirt. "W-We're still in the library-"

"And it's empty, right? No one's around," San murmured against your lips, his breath warm and comforting. He took another step closer, his body now pressed against yours, leaving no room for doubt or fear. You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest so hard it felt like it might just burst.

He lifted you up without effort, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist, and carried you over to a quiet, secluded corner of the library. The soft cushions of an old armchair were a welcome relief as he set you down, his hands never leaving your body. San's gaze was filled with desire, yet tinged with caution.

He started kissing your neck, his hands moving down your body before grabbing your skirt and lifting it. You felt the cold chair against your bare skin and shivered from the excitement. You didn't know what you were doing, but you knew you wanted him.

San's hand slid up your thigh, his thumb brushing against the lace of your panties. You gasped, your eyes snapping open. The reality of the situation hit you like a cold shower. "W-What are we doing?" You whispered, your voice trembling.

He pulled back, his gaze searching yours. "I couldn't help myself. If we do this," he said, his voice hoarse with desire, "we can't take it back."

You bit your bottom lip, contemplating his words. Your mind raced with the consequences, but your body craved his touch. "I know," you murmured, nodding slightly. "But I don't want to take it back."

San studied your face, his eyes filled with a mix of want and hesitation. Finally, with a low groan, he leaned in and claimed your mouth again, his hand moving to cup your breast through your shirt. You arched into the touch, a soft moan escaping you. His fingers deftly unhooked your bra, and his hand moved to caress the soft skin, his thumb flicking over your nipple. The sensation was overwhelming, and you felt a warm wetness spread between your legs.

You reached your hand as far as you could, tugging at his belt and the buttons of his pants. San's hand moved from your waist to your wrist, stopping you gently. He pulled away from the kiss, his breath ragged. "Let me."

He knelt before you, his eyes never leaving yours as he pushed your skirt higher and slid your panties aside. His touch was featherlight, sending waves of pleasure through your body as he kissed and licked at your inner thighs. You whimpered, the anticipation driving you wild.

Finally, his mouth found your center, and you gasped as he took you in. San's tongue danced over your sensitive flesh, tasting and teasing you until you thought you would lose your mind. Your hands gripped the armrests of the chair, knuckles white from the effort of not pushing him away.

"O-Oh my god, San-" you breathed his name, your eyes rolling back in pleasure. You felt your core clench around nothing, and the sensation was like nothing you had ever experienced before. His movements grew more deliberate, and you could feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge.

His hands caressing your thighs, his eyes remained locked on yours, watching the play of emotions across your face as he worked his magic. You squirmed, unable to hold back the moans that bubbled up from deep within your chest. The warmth of his breath and the flick of his tongue against your most sensitive spot had you teetering on the edge of a cliff, desperately craving release.

"Mmmh!" you gasped as San's tongue worked its way inside of you, stroking you with the perfect amount of pressure and speed. Your legs tightened around him, and you threw your head back, unable to control the sounds escaping your mouth. The pleasure was unlike anything you had ever felt, and you knew you were close to climaxing.

"I-I'm close," you tug at his hair, making sure to avoid his glasses. "Right there, fuck!" You didn't know how to be quiet, the pleasure was too intense. San's eyes flashed with something primal and he groaned against your pussy, the vibrations making you shiver.

With a final flick of his tongue and a suck on your clit, you felt your orgasm crash over you like a wave, your body convulsing as you rode the peak. You clung to the chair, your nails digging into the fabric as the pleasure washed over you in waves. San didn't stop, instead, he kept licking and kissing until you were panting and begging for mercy.

"Please," you gasped, your voice hoarse. "I can't-"

"One more," San murmured, his eyes dark with desire as he slid a finger inside of you, curling it in a way that made your eyes roll back in your head. The sensation was exquisite, and you could feel yourself climbing again, your muscles tightening around his digit. He watched you, his eyes hooded and focused, as he brought you closer to the brink once more.

With a final, deep thrust of his finger, you came again, your body shaking and quivering as the orgasm ripped through you. San sat back on his haunches, his face flushed with arousal as he took in the sight of you, sprawled out on the chair, panting and glowing.

"W-Where'd you learn to do-" you pause, pointing below. "…That…"

San's eyes crinkled at the corners with a hint of amusement. "Sweetie, I'm ten years older than you." he said, his voice a low rumble that sent a fresh wave of heat through your core. "I've had time to learn a few things." He leaned in, kissing you gently before sitting up.

He undoes his tie with swift, practiced movements, his eyes never leaving yours. "You're so beautiful," he whispers, his voice thick with need. You feel your heart race faster, his words a sweet aphrodisiac.

"Forget what I said earlier about staying professional." he almost growled, fiddling with his belt now. "I could give you everything you need."

You nodded, feeling your own need pulsing through your veins. "But we should be quick," you managed to say, though your voice was thick with lust. "Someone could come in."

"Then you're going to have to stay quiet," San warned with a smoldering look, his eyes dark with desire. He stood up, his pants now unbuttoned, revealing his erection that strained against the fabric of his boxers. You felt your mouth go dry as you stared at him, unable to believe that this was really happening.

He pushed his boxers down just enough for his cock to come out, and you felt your mouth water at the sight of him. San was well endowed, and the way his cock stood proudly before you was incredibly arousing. He stepped closer, and you reached out tentatively to touch him.

Your hand wrapped around his shaft, and he sucked in a sharp breath, his eyes never leaving yours. "You're so big," you murmured, your voice filled with wonder. "And so…strong."

San's hand covered yours, guiding you in a gentle stroking motion. "Yeah," he said, his voice strained. "But I'll be gentle."

You nodded, feeling a thrill of excitement at his words. He stepped closer, his cock now brushing against your stomach, leaving a trail of wetness. He moves it toward your entrance, and you grip the armrests of the chair tightly, bracing yourself.

"Ready?" San asked, his voice a low growl. You nodded, unable to speak as he pushed into you slowly, filling you up inch by inch. You felt a slight burn, but it was overshadowed by the overwhelming feeling of fullness. He was so much larger than anyone you've been with before, and it was a bit terrifying but mostly exhilarating.

He paused, giving you a moment to adjust before pulling out slightly and pushing back in. You let out a soft whimper, and he leaned in to kiss you again, his hand moving to cup your cheek. The gentle gesture helped to ease the tension in your body, and you started to relax into the sensation.

"You feel amazing." San whispered against your lips, his eyes searching yours as he began to move his hips in a slow, deliberate rhythm. You nodded, biting your bottom lip to keep from crying out as he filled you completely. His movements grew stronger, each thrust sending waves of pleasure rippling through your body.

The sound of the chair creaking under the weight of your passion filled the quiet library, the only other noise the muffled sounds of your breathing and the occasional soft whine that slipped from your mouth. San's grip on your hips tightened, his pace increasing as he lost himself in the moment.

"F-Fuck-" you try your best to stay quiet, but it's getting increasingly difficult as San's hips piston into you. The chair squeaks underneath you, and the thought of getting caught is almost too much to handle. You lean back, arching your back, giving him deeper access. San's eyes never leave yours, his strokes becoming more and more demanding as he chases his own release.

He leaned forward, his hands sliding up to cup your breasts, his thumbs rolling over your nipples. The added sensation was too much, and you bit back a moan as your orgasm began to build once more. San's eyes widened at the sight of you, lost in pleasure, and he picked up the pace, his strokes becoming more urgent.

"Fuck, I love you," you murmur, the words slipping out unbidden. San's eyes flash with something akin to surprise, and then his expression softens.

"I love you too, Y/N," he says, his voice thick with emotion. His thrusts become more urgent, his eyes never leaving yours as he drives you closer to the edge. You feel your body tightening around him, and you know you're about to come again.

"I-I can't-" you whimpered, your voice strained as your second orgasm built up. "Too much-" San's eyes never left yours, his movements becoming more erratic as he felt your muscles tighten around him. You felt his cock swell inside you, and he groaned against your neck.

With one final, deep thrust, San came, his warmth filling you completely. He stilled, his breaths coming out in harsh gasps. You felt your own climax peak and crash over you, your body quivering in his arms. For a moment, there was only the sound of your ragged breathing and the beating of your hearts.

San leaned in and kissed you again, this time more tenderly. "I'm sorry," he murmured against your lips. "I didn't mean to go that far. I really just…couldn't help myself."

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. "It's okay," you whispered, your voice still shaky. "I didn't either."

"You're, uh, on birth control right?" San's voice was filled with concern, breaking the momentary silence.

The reality of the situation washed over you, and you nodded. "Yes, I am."

San let out a sigh of relief, his body relaxing slightly as he pulled out of you. You felt the warmth of him leave you and immediately missed the connection. He bent down and kissed you softly before helping you to stand, adjusting your clothing with gentle hands.

"You, um, really love me?" San's voice was a mix of shock and hope. He held you at arm's length, his eyes searching yours for any hint of doubt. The question was a knife to your heart, but you couldn't lie, not now.

"Yeah," you whispered, the truth finally out in the open. "I've been trying to ignore it, but I can't anymore."

San's eyes searched yours for a moment before he sighed happily. "You're adorable." He kissed you again, a smile playing on his lips. "But we have to be careful." He pulled away, looking around the library, reminding you of the precarious situation you were in.

"Whatever, old guy." You playfully punched his arm, trying to lighten the mood. San chuckled, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

#february filth fest #ateez #ateez hard hours #ateez smut #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez x reader #san smut #san fluff #san ateez #san x reader #san hard thoughts #san hard hours #Spotify

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zepskies · 2 months ago

Text

Headcanon: Body Insecurity/Appreciation

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Reader, Beau Arlen x Reader, Soldier Boy/Ben x Reader

AN: This one was requested by one of my lovely Patreon members, @roseblue373. 💜 It's a special one to me personally, being plus-sized myself and having gone through my share of insecurities. Wish I had one of these guys to make it better lol!~

Prompt/Request: Great job with the latest Dean/Beau/Ben reacts vignettes! I'd love to see one where reader has put on weight and isn't happy with their body, and how each would make her feel better!! IF the muse agrees, of course! ❤️

HC: How Dean Winchester, Beau Arlen and Soldier Boy (Ben) would react to your body insecurity.

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Established relationship, body insecurity (but also body appreciation), thicc thirty, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, spiciness/smuttishness.

Dean Winchester

You've started breezing past mirrors when you get out of the shower.

Because if you catch sight of your own reflection, you can't help but utter a sigh, your lips dipping into a frown.

In the privacy of the room you share with Dean in the bunker, you take a risk in unwrapping the towel from your body in front of the mirror.

You inspect yourself with growing dejection, noting all the places that are rounder, heavier, less firm than they used to be.

Looks like no amount of running down leads and killing monsters has been enough to keep you in shape.

Too much shitty fast food, too many times you indulged yourself with snacks and dessert alongside your foodie boyfriend.

"What'cha doin', sweetheart?" Dean asks. He steps into the room while wiping donut icing from the corner of his mouth.

Speak of the devil.

When Dean finally catches you frowning at yourself in the mirror, you inhale sharply and close the towel back up.

"Nothing. Just need to get dressed," you reply quickly. "Shower's open."

You try to offer him a smile, despite the pang of jealousy when you eye him.

He gave you the first chance at the shower after the latest case wrapped up, so he's still wearing most of his FBI suit, sans jacket. The white dress shirt is rolled up to his elbows, a few days of scruff neatly trimmed across his cheeks.

The man can cram an entire pizza down his gullet and wash it down with three slices of apple pie, not to mention countless beers. And still, Dean stays looking downright edible.

By comparison, you feel...fat. Like you've let yourself go.

You turn away from him to grab your well-worn sweatpants and an oversized shirt; you plan to change alone in the bathroom, but Dean grabs your arm.

"Who says you need to get dressed?" he says, popping his brows with a suggestive grin. He slips his arms around your waist, but your instinct is to shy away from his hold. You chuckle awkwardly and avoid his now curious gaze.

"Sorry, babe. Um...I'm wiped. I just want to get to bed," you say.

But Dean isn't fooled. His spidey sense is tingling, and his gut is almost never wrong.

His hand slides down your arm and grasps your hand, tugging you back into his arms. You utter a little gasp, but you ultimately smile at his familiar grin. There's a perceptive gleam in his eyes though.

"You know, seems like you've been pretty wiped lately," he says, raising a brow. "It's been a while since we, uh..."

He waggles his brows playfully, squeezing your hips. You want to smile, but you can't let yourself. You can't quite look at him either.

For Dean, it's another glaring red flag. His lips form a frown, and he dips his chin to find your eyes.

"Hey," he says. "What's goin' on? Talk to me."

His tone is so sincere, you have to blink against the sting of tears. Your lower lip wobbles, and Dean frowns in earnest. He presses a hand to your cheek and gets you to look at him with your watery eyes.

"Sweetheart, you gotta tell me what's wrong," he says, more gently, but serious.

Eventually, you're able to get it out. You can't bear the thought of him touching you, because lately, you can't even bear looking at yourself.

"I know I've been gaining weight, I just..." your voice breaks, and you gesture haphazardly at your body. "I'd get it if you're not really into this right now."

Dean's heart clenches. He's downright shocked at your confession, and more than a little disheartened. He presses a hand to your cheek and guides you to look at him.

"All right, hold up just one damn minute."

His calloused fingers gently brush away your tears, but his hands keep moving, slowly traveling down your body. They slide down your bare arms, skimming the sides of your breasts.

Your breath hitches. Your hand is still fisted over your beating heart, keeping your towel closed. His hands continue to move, molding to the curve of your waist over the fuzzy fabric.

"I'll admit, we've been pretty busy lately with everything we've got going on. But if you think that means I'm ever not into this delectable, sexy, voluptuous, goddess body you got rockin' the house?" he says, grinning that utterly Dean grin of his.

You bite your lip against a bubble of laughter. He's too fucking much sometimes.

Dean tugs you closer, until your hips fit snugly against his through his slacks. His tall, broad frame crowds you. His lips skim your cheek, then over your lips in a tease.

He squeezes the flesh of your hips, tender and sensuous.

Your heart flutters at the feeling.

"Mmm, I like you nice and soft," he murmurs against your cheek, close to your ear. "Feels that much better when I fuck you."

A small gasp gets trapped in your throat, while the gravel depths in his voice go straight to your pussy in a pulsing throb of warmth.

By the time he claims your lips in a devouring kiss, you're all too willing to let him peel your towel open, drop it to the floor, and guide you backwards onto the bed.

There he'll take his time, forging yet another mental map of every plush square inch of you.

Beau Arlen

Beau is a busy man. You understand that.

As Sheriff, his job demands a lot from him. He's also a father and has an ex-wife to contend with. (You knew that going in, and you've come to love Emily too.)

However, you can't help but start to take it personally when your sex life begins to suffer. He's often claimed being tired...but there's another suspicion that's been taking root in your mind, feeding your doubts and insecurities about how your boyfriend sees you, and about how you see yourself.

When you slip into bed at night, a kiss goodnight is all he gives you lately, before he's sighing deeply and closing his eyes, his soft snores soon filling the room.

One night, you try touching his shoulder, leaning in to kiss his bearded cheek. He hums at the pleasant feeling.

"You wanna...?" You trail the question in his ear, pressing more sweet kisses down his neck.

"Aw, sweetheart," he groans. "I'd like to, but I think I'd just smother you. I'm about to pass out."

You huff a laugh. You teasingly walk two fingers across his chest. "What if I make it easy for you?"

You shift onto your side. Resting a hand on his chest, you lean down to kiss him. He hums at the softness of it, but the more passion you try to imbue into each new kiss, Beau isn't as responsive as you would like. Eventually, you stop all together.

You frown, becoming disheartened. "You're not into this, I guess."

He opens his tired eyes, gazes up at you in apology. He opens his mouth to reply, but you beat him to it.

"You know it's been a month since we've had sex," you say.

Beau frowns, sliding a hand up your back. Only now does he notice, with appreciation, the familiar silky négligée you're wearing.

"Nah, that doesn't sound right," he says.

"Well, it is," you say. "I know you say you're tired, but I mean, you've had this job for as long as I've known you, Beau." Your eyes fall away from him. "So is it the job, or...is it me?"

Beau's brows furrow. "Now wait a minute."

The mere thought dredges up what's been plaguing your mind recently, and it has your throat tightening. Tears of embarrassment and upset well up in your eyes, no matter how much you try to push it down.

You push away from him and turn away, crossing your arms. You try not to look at yourself in what used to be your favorite lingerie.

You can't stand the extra weight you've put on, mostly in your hips and ass, but in your middle and arms too.

You've gone through your own stress at work this year, with less and less time to try and take care of yourself, along with making sure Emily gets to and from school, cooking for the three of you, going to PTA meetings when Carla can't make it (since Beau often can't), and every other proverbial hat you wear.

Beau follows you, sitting up and laying a hand on your back. "Sweetheart--"

"I know I've put on a few. Hell, more than a few," you admit, hastily wiping under your eyes. "God, I can't even look at myself right now, let alone have you--"

"Hey. You stop right there," Beau says, more firmly. He gets you to turn around with his hand on your shoulder. He doesn't like the way you're curled in on yourself, as if hiding your body from his gaze.

That, and the sight of your tears damn well break his heart.

He cups the side of your face gently and presses a tender kiss to your forehead, followed closely by your lips.

You don't want to melt, but you just can't help it. You cling to the front of his shirt and lean into his kiss, like you've been lost in the desert, and his lips hold the breath of life.

You almost don't realize it when his arms slip around your waist. He earns a surprised yelp from you when he gathers you close against his chest and rolls you underneath him.

You land against the pillows in a huff. You stare up at his playful smile, his green eyes glinting with amusement, with fondness, and also with desire as they roam over your breasts, barely contained by dark green satin and lace.

"I've been neglecting you, haven't I?" he says. His voice is a low, earthy drawl as his gaze rakes over you. His big hand runs down your side and over your hip, then down your bare thigh, squeezing soft, tender flesh. He slips that hand under the satin night gown.

His hand can't span your entire thigh, but it's not for lack of trying. Your heart beats a staccato rhythm at the way he looks at you, your breath hitching when his thumb dips between your legs, brushing against the damp, silky fabric of your panties.

"It's not because I don't find you sexy as hell. Believe me, darlin', I do," he says. "You're so fuckin' beautiful, especially when you're all laid out for me here."

And he means what he says. You know it by the hardness you feel pressing against your hip. You slip your fingers into his hair with a sigh.

He bows his head to press kisses along your neck; down and down, he noses at the thin strap of your night gown. His path of kisses continue, and he indulges himself by dipping his tongue between the valley of your breasts.

"Filling out this lacy little thing so nice," he murmurs into your skin.

Your upset has turned to abject relief, but you still have to blink away the remaining urge to cry.

You let out a slightly tremulous breath.

"Oh, yeah?" you ask.

Beau pauses. He pulls away, just so he can look up and meet your eyes. He still finds insecurity in yours, so he meets you with a kiss filled with heat and intent.

He's now wide awake. He plans to take his sweet time taking you apart, inch by inch.

In fact, in the back of his mind, he also plans to do better about letting his deputies help him out more at the precint so he can have a better work-life balance.

(Because going a whole damn month without the taste of you is "no bueno," in his words.)

Soldier Boy (Ben)

The man may not be very patient, or particularly perceptive, but he's not an idiot.

At least, not about sex.

He knows that you've been feigning tiredness, and generally avoiding his touch.

What's strange is that you haven't been avoiding him. You still cook for him, still share conversation with him, still insist on having him spoon you on the couch while catching him up on the past four decades of TV shows and movies.

But when he begins to sneak a hand under your oversized shirt (an old one of Ben's), caressing your hip, then dipping down to your softer stomach on the way to your panties, breaking your concentration from the movie as unease laces down your spine.

You grab his wrist on reflex, instead lacing your fingers together.

"What's the matter now?" he asks.

You look over your shoulder at him and find him frowning at you, a divot between his brows. You don't manage to hold his gaze for long.

"Sorry," you say quietly. "I'm just, um, tired."

Ben doesn't believe you, and he's direct when he calls you out on it.

Reluctant to put what you've been feeling into words, you pause the movie and leave the couch (and him) behind.

Ben is annoyed enough to follow you (and underneath, he hides an edge of concern). The conflict leads into the bedroom, where you're still unwilling to open up.

He finally stops you from walking away from him, pinning you against the dresser by your hips. He practically looms over you as he demands an answer. He knows you're hiding something — something that's had you reluctant to let him touch you.

"Is there something you wanna tell me?" he says, a raw edge of warning in his tone. "What, are you fucking somebody else?"

Shock flashes in your eyes, making you angry. "What? No!"

"Well, you seem to be getting your fill somewhere, and it hasn't been from me--"

"Are you fucking serious? I'm not..." Your lips purse. You're actually hurt that he would hurl that accusation your way--and it couldn't be farther from the truth.

You tug your long shirt downwards and cross your arms, but it's more like you're hugging yourself, shielding your body away.

Ben's brows furrow a little bit more.

Eventually you get it out; you haven't been feeling up to being intimate because you're having a hard time even looking at yourself lately.

"I know I need to, um, get back in shape," you say, taking in a shaky breath to try and steady yourself. Your throat constricts, the beginnings of tears stinging your eyes. You want to look at anywhere but at Ben. "I just haven't had much time, with everything going on. But Annie gave me this guide on some different diets, like intermittent fasting, Keto--"

"Fasting," Ben intones. "What, you wanna fucking starve yourself? What the fuck is Keto?"

You sigh, barely resisting the urge to roll your eyes.

"No, not starve myself. And Keto's just..." The idea of trying to explain the new diet craze to your boyfriend is too daunting a task to consider. "Never mind. The point is, I have a plan. My hips, my thighs, my ass--"

Ben squeezes your hips at the mention of them. He happens to like the softness.

"Yeah, you've got a little extra. So fucking what?" he says, his voice deep and exacting as his gaze roams over your body. "Just gives me more to hold onto when I'm fucking you."

You utter a shocked laugh. "Ben!"

He grins lazily, and he turns you this way and that, admiring you from all angles. In his eyes, he doesn't find a side he doesn't like. You can't help but blush hotly under his gaze.

"Sweetheart, do whatever you want if it makes you feel good. But you don't need to starve yourself." His hands move to your ass, squeezing a bit harder on the plush flesh.

A yelp escapes you; he's pressing into you from the front as well, and you feel him heavy and already half-hard against you. You grab onto his arms for stability as your breaths quicken.

His attitude kind of surprises you, even though it soothes the frayed, insecure part of your soul that wants to be as beautiful and attractive in his eyes as he is in yours.

Ben is literally a super soldier. You're actually kind of jealous. The man can drug and booze hard and eat whatever the hell he wants, but his super metabolism just seems to absorb it into his washboard abs.

(The more you think about it, the more you want to smack him.)

Nothing about him isn't hard and lean, muscle and strength.

Only his hands have a measure of gentleless when they're holding you like this.

"I've just got so many stretch marks now," you begin to complain, in an emotional whisper.

He snorts. "And? You think it's anything I haven't seen?"

At that, your head tilts in consideration. Butcher's Granny Fucker remark comes to mind. You bite your lip against a smirk.

Ben crooks a curled finger under your chin. He guides you to meet his eyes, before he lures you into a lusty kiss.

It's somewhat rough because of his beard, but you still smile afterwards, leaning against him now.

"Ain't nothing about you that I can't handle," he adds, all smirking and cocky. To prove his point, he hooks those strong hands behind your thighs and lifts you onto the dresser.

You gasp and cling to his shoulders. From there, he makes quick work of ridding the oversized shirt from your body, revealing you to the cool air and his hot gaze.

You take his face in your hands and bring him in for an even steamier kiss, your heart lighter and trembling with anticipation.

You've held yourself from him long enough, Ben thinks, and he has every intention of devouring you right on your old dresser -- before you two even get to the bed.

AN: 😮‍💨 I feel like each of these could've been even longer with their own one-shot loll. I wrote the Midnight Espresso-verse for Dean, partially to explore what his relationship would be like with a plus-sized reader. 💖💖

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yungistiny · 13 days ago

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camgirl ═ chapter six

[ S. Mingi ]

chapter six: girlfriend

╚═════════

summary: mingi just really needs some cash and he was told all he had to do was hold a camera. simple enough. he just didn’t anticipate the type of content he’d be helping to create

warning: emo mingi, stoner mingi, switch mingi, switch reader, mingi is hung, creampie, unprotected sex, choking, spanking, masturbation, rough sex, degradation, size kink, spitting, deep throating, possessive mingi/reader, public sex

pairing: mingi x afab/reader

genre: smut, angst, drama, romance

word count: 3k

chapter five

chapter seven

masterlist

═════════ ═════════ ═════════

Y/N had never been edged before. Not like this. She had no idea how long Mingi had been teasing her, getting her to the premise of her orgasm ready to shake her core and then stop. It felt endless.

It’s what the viewers wanted and they were at over 11,000.

“Mi….” Y/N couldn’t barely catch her breath, completely worn out at this point, she just wanted to cum and then sleep. “Mingi….. I can’t….” He had her at the edge again, his dick in his hand, rubbing his length against her poor, aching clit.

She really couldn’t. She was so overstimulated she could cry, she was a little. Mingi turned his gaze towards the camera pointed perfectly at them and then let his eyes fall onto y/n laptop on the bed, the stream on display, comments flooding in so quickly you couldn’t read them.

The sight of himself between y/n splayed legs, her face flushed, sheen of sweat covering her from exertion looked fucking perfect. Mingi felt a possessive hand clench around him, his conscious telling him to make sure everyone knows she’s his.

Y/N was so overstimulated that her orgasm crashed through her as soon as Mingi sank his entire length into her, walls grasping his dick so tight, so warm, Mingi enveloped her. He was flushed against her, one arm under her head, the other pinning one of her arms above them, fingers intertwined together.

Y/N other hand was tangled in his hair as she was a mess under him. Her orgasm hit her so hard, so intense, she barely had time to register it before Mingi’s deep, slow, strokes had her on the edge again.

Y/N second orgasm pulled Mingi with her. Both coming at the same time, moans, whimpers and cries all mixed together. Her pussy was full with Mingi’s cum and his dick still buried balls deep, was moving again.

How he was still going, thrusting again, chasing another orgasm, y/n had no idea but after finally getting to climax herself after all the edging, she let him drag her with him.

Mingi, stream forgotten the second he finally buried himself in her, was whimpering as he felt his stomach tighten, his dick twitching and then he was coming again, face buried into the crook of y/n neck to muffle his cries when she too came again.

Their shaky breaths echoed together in the otherwise quiet room, y/n gasping when Mingi moved just enough to pull his dick out of her, their mixed juices leaking from her and staining the sheets.

11,000 plus strangers watching the stream. All of them unknowingly witnessing as both Mingi and y/n came to a realization, refusing to voice it allowed.

They might be in love with each other.

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Mingi had just finished getting dressed when his phone alarmed him of a new text.

💗: I’m here

He rolled the sleeves of the light blue button up shirt he had on up to his elbows, his beaded bracelets displayed on his wrists. “San, come on!”

San emerged from his own bedroom, pulling a black blazer on over the simple black shirt he had on. They were going to Mingi’s parents anniversary party.

Y/N drummed her fingers along the steering wheel of her car, the heat from the vents keeping her warm from the chill outside. It was October so the weather was starting to grow much cooler.

She shocked herself when she agreed to go with Mingi to his parent’s anniversary party. It would be the first time, other than when she had surprised him at his party weeks back, that the two of them would be together around others.

A lot has changed since that night at Mingi’s party though.

Y/N got out of the car when she saw Mingi and San. “You’re driving.” She sent Mingi one of those smiles that always got her anything she wanted, walking around her car and getting in the passenger seat.

Mingi stared at the new black camaro, he’d never driven a car that nice before. He just knew his brother was gonna take one look at y/n in that dress, a black one that ended mid thigh, long sleeves with a neckline that plunged a little to show just enough cleavage, that and her car, and Mingi would be accused of using her.

He wasn’t. He’d make sure everyone knew that.

Mingi could feel her eyes on him, San oblivious as he told y/n about how it was to work with 5 year olds all day. She had been curious what it was like for San being a kindergarten teacher but one look glance at Mingi in the driver’s seat distracted her.

He had one hand on the wheel, the other gripped the grab handle, elbow resting against the window. His glasses perched perfectly on the bridge of his nose and his new hair looked so damn good. Mingi had gotten it trimmed shorter than it already was and had it bleached blonde now, the pink fully gone.

San was still talking, none the wiser, his gaze on the scenery passing them, as Mingi switched hands on the wheel, his right finding it’s way across the console to rest on y/n thigh.

His fingers flexed against her exposed skin, y/n reaching to intertwine her own hand with his, leaving them to rest against her.

Y/N got lost in her thoughts the rest of the ride. She had been doing that a lot lately since realizing she might be in love with her new….. partner? She wasn’t sure what to call Mingi.

She did know that her sudden onslaught over overwhelming feelings towards him was giving her anxiety. The last relationship she had been in broke her. Her ex had been an abusive, cheating piece of shit and it took a long time for y/n to heal from it.

She hasn’t been with anyone, other than sex, that intimate since. Until Mingi. Until Wooyoung sent him crashing into her life and making her fall again.

It crossed her mind, that maybe Mingi was just using her. He got sex. He got paid. Any other guy would jump at that opportunity with no strings attached. But the strings had gotten attached. Really attached.

Mingi’s family restaurant was reserved solely for his parent’s anniversary party. He was nervous, he’d never brought anyone to meet his family before.

“Mingi, you’re gripping a little tight.” Y/N gave him an amused smile as she allowed him to lead her into the restaurant, his hand that interlocked with her own indeed was gripping a little too tightly. “Sorry.”

Maybe this was a bad idea? He could always usher y/n and San back to the car and leave but then his mom would kill him. “Dude,” San bumped his shoulder with his own. “relax.”

There wasn’t too many people there, enough to crowd though and y/n made sure to not let go of Mingi’s hand, her smaller frame between him and San.

“I tried calling you.”

Mingi stumbled back when his dad was suddenly in front of them. “Your mother invited Nari.” His dad turned to look down at y/n beside him.

“Who’s Nari?”

Y/N had their attention on her, all three of them. San excused himself to go find a drink. “Son, you’re not going to introduce us?”

Mingi was thankful his dad changed the subject. “Dad, Y/N,”

he hesitated….. the words suddenly stuck on his tongue. He wasn’t sure what to say, what to call y/n, how to introduce her.

Then, the words left him without thinking, his dad smiling at y/n, a genuine smile that looked so much like Mingi’s own, and y/n blinked, arching a brow at him. “my girlfriend.”

The statement hung in the air, Mingi wasn’t lying this time. He was done pretending like that’s not what y/n was. Like that’s not what he wanted.

Y/N felt her heart speed up, a little flutter? “my girlfriend” He said it so sure of himself. Like it was just natural to call her his girlfriend. The first time he said it, Mingi was just trying to shut her stepmother up.

This was different. Mingi’s hand squeezed her own before pulling his free so he could wrap his arm around her waist, pulling her into his side.

“I think you’re the first person my son has ever brought around the family.” Mingi’s dad was teasing, that same crooked grin as his son’s.

“Dad…” Mingi groaned, face red now. Y/N didn’t have to know that! “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Song.” Y/N had on that real smile of hers, one that Mingi had fought hard not to fall in love with.

“How did you two meet?” Mingi’s dad asked curiously which resulted in Mingi’s eyes widening, gulping, arm tightening around y/n waist who lied straight through her teeth, well, not all of it was a lie. “Our friend Wooyoung.” She giggled, placing a hand on Mingi’s chest. “I swear he thinks he’s Cupid.”

Mingi just smiled, playing along to the little white lie. “My son!” His mother was rushing to him, y/n almost tumbling down from the way his mother engulfed Mingi into a hug.

Y/N was thankful for Mr. Song’s quick reflexes or else she’d be sprawled on the floor. She bit her tongue, Mingi having already warned her about his mother. She had rolled her eyes, boy moms.

“Look who’s here!”

Y/N eyed the other woman beside Mingi’s mother with clear disdain, obvious by the glare of her eyes and the way she had folded her arms across her chest.

“Nari is back home from abroad! I told her the two of you would have a lot to catch up on.” Mingi’s mom was practically giddy, smiling between Mingi and Nari, she was taller than y/n, pin straight dark brown hair, pale and a smug little smile that y/n wanted to punch.

Was she an ex girlfriend?

“Would you like a drink?” Mr. Song could sense the tension pouring off his son’s girlfriend in waves. If looks could kill like they used to say, the anniversary party would turn into a wake.

Y/N wasn’t ignoring him but, no, she didn’t want a drink! She wanted to know who the fuck Nari was. Mingi, she noticed, looked annoyed at Nari’s presence which only fueled the thought of her being an ex.

Was she jealous? Y/N bristled at the thought. Jealous of what? Of Nari? It wasn’t Nari that could make the tall 6ft emo boy fall to his knees and beg to be fucked. It wasn’t Nari that Mingi liked to call mine.

“Mom,” Mingi reached for y/n, his hand gripping gently against her arm, pulling her back to his side. “This is y/n, my girlfriend.” This was the second time he called her his girlfriend and meant it. No trace of hesitation.

The smile left Mrs. Song’s face, a judging pair of eyes that looked just like Mingi’s stared at y/n. She needed a drink, maybe she could sneak off and find San? Where Mr. Song was very welcoming, his wife was the opposite. Fucking boy moms.

“I’m gonna go find San,” y/n gave Mrs. Song the most sickly sweet smile she could. “Mrs. Song, it’s so nice to meet you.” She spotted San where he was talking to some other guy across the dining area. “Happy anniversary!”

“Y/N..” Mingi’s voice held a warning tone to it, as if telling her to not run off, to stay beside him, but she ignored him. Her shoulders relaxed as she approached San.

“Y/N,” San smiled at her, the glass of wine in his hand gesturing towards the other guy who y/n could only presume was Mingi’s older brother. He had their father’s eyes but their mother’s face, giving him that same nose as Mingi but he was certainly shorter, maybe an inch taller than San. “This is Mingi’s brother.”

“You’re my brother’s girlfriend San was telling me about?” Mingi’s brother also had that crooked grin. “My little brother had never brought anyone home before…” he also had that same wandering gaze as Mingi did. “the hell do you see in that big tall idiot anyways?”

Y/N didn’t answer his joking question but instead asked a question of her own. “Who’s Nari?”

San’s dimples poked out as he covered a hand across his mouth to conceal the laughter now escaping him. Mingi’s brother was laughing too. “Mrs. Song has been trying to get them married forever.”

“My brother sleeps with her one time and she thinks they’re soulmates.”

Y/N jaw clenched at Mingi’s brother, his words like a punch. “Don’t forget New Years.” San added, not thinking before speaking, he’d blame it on the alcohol in his system.

It’s not that she’s jealous. No. But….. Mingi was hers. He told her so, given he was balls deep inside her at the time, but he told her nonetheless. Y/N needed a drink. “Excuse me.” She grabbed two glasses of wine from a tray going by them with a waiter.

San watched her chug the first glass, lips smacking when she finished. The second one was gone just as fast and y/n blinked as the alcohol rushed through her system. “Thank you.” She smiled at another waiter who came by, taking her empty glasses and handing her another full one.

═════════ ═════════ ═════════

Mingi couldn’t find y/n anywhere. After listening to his mother berate him about his girlfriend, demanding to know who she was, what she did, was she not freezing in the dress she chose to wear? He had to finally excuse himself, before he said something his mother wouldn’t like.

“San, where’s y/n?” Mingi was growing agitated, he could feel Nari watching him, trying his best to ignore her. It’s not like he hated her or something, hated the way his mother had been trying to make him date and marry her since he was 15 years old, that he hated, but Nari certainly knew how to annoy him.

He was 17 the first time they had sex, losing their virginity together, Mingi saw it as just that, two forced friends by the fact that their mother’s were friends, ripping that virginity bandaid off. Nari grew a little obsessed with him.

The second time Mingi slept with her, New Years, he was drunk, high and honestly forgot the majority of it. Nari told his mom they were dating. Mingi had to clear that lie up real quick and he hadn’t seen her since.

“She went towards the restrooms a few minutes ago.” San grabbed his arm before he could go look. “She’s a little drunk I think….”

Great. Mingi moved through the small crowd, searching the restrooms for y/n but not finding her. He moved on to the back, where the small lounge and his dad’s office was.

She was in the lounge, a bottle of water grasped in her hand, drinking it as if she had grown dehydrated. The light was off, the window high up on the wall in the far side of the room casting a glow from the outside.

“Why did you just run off?” His voice caused her to jump, water dribbling down her chin. “You scared me!” Y/N glared at him, sitting the water on the counter behind her.

“Did I do something?” Mingi was in front of her now, keeping a small distance. “Was it because I said you were my girlfriend?”

Y/N knew she was a little drunk because she suddenly had no control over what she was saying, her emotions taking over for her. “Is that what you want? For me to be your girlfriend? Because if you do….”

She found herself backed up against the wall between the counter and a worn old pleather chair. The glare from the lighting of the outside pole lamp, casting them in a small glow through the window. “that means you’re my boyfriend…”

Her breath hitched when Mingi caged her in with his arms, forehead leaning down to rest against her own, eyes never breaking contact. “mine. Only mine.” Maybe she was a little possessive.

Mingi smiled at her, a real smile, one that showed his pretty teeth and reached his eyes before turning that smile into a smirk. “Only yours.” He promised.

Their lips met and it was like a shift, they hadn’t exactly admitted any feelings or anything, but they could feel it. Their kiss less hungry, more passionate.

Mingi lifted her, letting her legs wrap around his waist, breaking the kiss wanting to just leave and take her in her car. “Someone’s gonna walk in.” It was a 50/50 chance, no one was this far back in the restaurant but that didn’t mean someone wouldn’t stumble there eventually.

Y/N raised a brow at him in challenge, teasing him. “You fuck me in front of thousands of strangers every week and you’re worried about someone walking in?”

And someone did walk in. Just as Mingi was moaning into the crook of y/n neck, dick deep inside her, y/n legs wrapped around his waist, dress pushed up to her stomach, Mingi’s pants around his ankles.

Y/N wrapped her arm around his shoulders, the other reaching to grip her hand at his short hair, eyes opening and gaze meeting Nari’s shocked one.

Y/N smirked over Mingi’s shoulder, his thrust, his body, everything about him, all hers. A smirk full of smug possessiveness.

Mingi was hers and now Nari was certainly aware of that fact.

While Nari was still frozen at the doorway, y/n moaned, voice loud enough the other woman could hear. “Come on, baby,” she could feel her orgasm ready to burst. “I want my boyfriend to fill me up.”

And that did it. Both Mingi and y/n came at the same time, Nari snapping out of her shock and running back up front, past San who was looking for his friends.

San followed the way she had ran from and cleared his throat at the sight of Mingi pulling his pants up and y/n fixing her dress.

“You couldn’t make it to the car?”

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tag list: @straycat420 @dejatiny @ultrapinkvoidbouquet @hannahlilibet411 @dawn-iscozy @winxmia @milkfromacow @pearltinyy @wooyoungsbrat @seonghwasslytherin @vsereniasstuff @chicksmoothie @maddycline

#mingi #song mingi #mingi smut #mingi x y/n #mingi x reader #ateez #ateez fic #ateez fanfic

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vashtijoy · 1 year ago

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shido's palace: those posters

And you know the ones I mean:

Shido, we can see right up your nose. But let's talk about the text on these. First, the really big bit on the left:

獅童正義 shidou masayoshi

Look at the kanji there. His given name is twice the size of his family name. Plus, his given name doesn't have the furigana (tiny text to tell you how to read it) that you can see against his family name—despite it being easily misread as a common noun.

Because, as eny fule kno, Shido's given name is spelled the same way as 正義 seigi, meaning "justice". This will be important later. The game lampshades this, by the way, in gossip chats around the election:

"Shido-san really lives up to what his name means. He's like justice personified." Okay, gossiping person, you do you.

united future

At the bottom, in tinytext next to his spooky Illuminati-esque Whole World In His Hands logo that isn't megalomaniacal at all, we have the name of his new splinter party:

未来連合 mirai rengou United Future

未来 mirai means future; 連合 rengou means a bloc, a coalition, an alliance or union. 連合ヨーロッパ rengou yooroppa, "a federal Europe"; 連合国 rengoukoku, "the Allied powers". So we get "United Future", perhaps less catchily "The Alliance for the Future", which is very much the sort of name new Japanese political parties tend to have.

what about that other bit

Hahaha, you mean this little thing?

This is Shadow Shido's slogan. This sums up his mission, his motive, the whole reason he wants power. And what does it say?

私のために、民衆は尽くす watashi no tame ni, minshuu wa tsukusu The people will serve me.

What a nice thing to say! What an excellent sentiment, befitting of a public servant in a democracy! And what an unashamed piece of shit, eh? You can see why Japan is underwater in his head.

Constructions of the form X no tame ni tsukusu are quite common; my dictionary lists several. So this little phrase is a play on words in at least two ways:

First of all, it's an adaptation of a well-known phrase, 民衆のために尽くす minshuu no tame ni tsukusu, "to serve the people". Shido has taken this and inverted it: the people will serve him.

But second—remember how Shido's given name, Masayoshi, is written the same way as seigi, meaning "justice"? One of those common little example phrases in my dictionary, under tsukusu, is the following:

正義のために尽くす seigi no tame ni tsukusu to work for justice

This is why his given name is in massive letters on the poster: because this play on words is deliberate on his part: Shido is justice, as his name should tell you; he defines what is good and right and true—and what's good and right and true is what is in his interests. And so the people will serve him. The same way they'd serve the nation, or society, or the public good.

It's a really interesting line. And, of course, it calls to mind Akechi—supposedly a detective, in the service of justice, and yet in reality....

BTW, don't forget this is Shido's Shadow talking. How much does Shido himself, the guy walking about upstairs, delude himself about all this? That's an exercise for the reader.

revision history

Click here for the latest version.

v1.0 (2024/01/14)—first published.

#persona 5 #p5 meta #japanese language #masayoshi shido #goro akechi

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somethinginthewayiam · 8 months ago

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The girl behind the bar (Part 2)

pairing: Jake Hangman Seresin x plus-size reader

warnings: class A banter

words: 3.5k

Summary: You're getting better at your job rather quickly. You already had some regulars, a group of naval aviators in particular. Sadly, Hangman was one of them. Today, you meet a new member of the group...

a/n: Thank you all so much for the likes and comments. I hope you like this one just as much.

Link to my masterlist

Your shifts at the bar got better by the day. Just like you had promised Penny, you learned quickly and improved every day. You already made out some of the regulars who were mostly Navy, young and old, retired, active and newbies, including some naval aviators that were stationed at North Island and the Hard Deck was their afterwork hangout.

You knew most of the naval aviators by their call signs, some even by their regular names. They liked you and you liked them. You seemed to find your footing in San Diego and it felt like it could become your home for at least a little while with every day that passed.

It was another busy evening at the Hard Deck. You still didn’t have the speed that Penny had in serving drinks but she also had three years more experience under her belt, at least here at the Hard Deck.

“Here you go”, you put two tall glasses of beer in front of two older gentlemen that definitely were part of the regulars; retired Navy. “Who’s driving tonight?”, you asked them. “Bert over here”, Carl said and pointed at his friend next to him. His actual name was Ernie but his call-sign was Bert as in Bert and Ernie. Carl’s call-sign was Ping-Pong.

You always thought that everything relating to military had to be super serious and tough, but as it turned out with every naval aviator you met, the names got funnier.

“Alright Bert, you know what that means. One more beer and I’m cutting you off”, you explained like they didn’t know the drill. “Women. Always nagging”, Bert shook his head but with a playful smile on his lips. You knew he was joking and you liked the exchange. “I just don’t wanna lose my favorite customer”, you told him and patted his hand that rested on the bar top. “You make an old man very happy”, he said and put his hand over yours. “Bert! You’re making me blush”, you told him and put your other hand over his. Ping-Pong put his hand on top of yours and now there was a tower of hands. “I felt excluded”, he simply said when you looked over at him and made the three of you laugh.

“Bradshaw!”, you heard Phoenix, a female naval aviator you had come to know through your work at the bar, exclaim over the crowd from the pool table as you turned away from the men to serve other customers. You looked at her first and then followed her eyes to a young man, probably the same age as she was, wearing a Hawaiian shirt as he walked past the bar counter, weaving his way through the crowd towards Phoenix. You just saw his profile and noticed that he was sporting a moustache.

Your attention got pulled away from him by other customers wanting to be served. You looked over at the group by the pool table from time to time. The Hawaiian shirt was an interesting contrast to the khaki uniforms he was surrounded by. You noticed how Hangman and the new guy seemingly went at it with intense stares and tense body language. Maybe they had a past or Hangman was just getting to him. That man could be unnerving.

You delivered a few drink orders to tables and got a new box of beer bottles out of storage when the new guy suddenly appeared at the counter. “Just a moment”, you told him as you put away the last few beers into the cooler. “Sure, take your time”, he said with no hint of sarcasm or impatience. You liked him already.

“Alright, what can I get ya?”, you asked and pushed a strand of your hair that had come loose from the big hair clip behind your ear. It was the first time you got a good look at his face and it was a pretty one. He really pulled off the mustache which wasn’t an easy task. The sunglasses he had on when coming in were now dangling at the neckline of his white shirt.

“A beer, please”, he placed his order. You grabbed a bottle out of the cooler and opened it. “Here you go. That makes 8,50”, you placed the beer in front of him with a smile. He returned the smile as he put a 10-dollar bill on the counter. “Thanks. The rest is for you, sweetheart”, he said and winked at you. He had a charming coolness about him. “Thank you”, you said as you took the money. He didn’t leave immediately but instead was looking at you with the same smile from before. “I’m Bradley”, he mentioned and extended his hand. “Y/N”, you told him and grabbed his hand for a surprisingly nice handshake.

“How do you know Phoenix?”, you asked him as you put the money in the register. “We met at the naval academy a few years ago”, he told you and leaned against the counter, taking a sip of his beer. “So, you’re a pilot, too?”, you inquired but weren’t really surprised as he nodded his head. “Yes, ma’am”, he said. “What’s your call-sign?”, you continued with your questionnaire. “Rooster”, he answered and looked at you like he was a bit surprised that you knew what a call-sign was. “I just remember the call-signs better than the actual names. I don’t know why”, you explained with a chuckle and shrugged your shoulders.

“Rooster!”, Phoenix called him over to play a game of pool. “Thanks for the beer, sweetheart”, he said. “Thanks for the tip”, you said in return before Rooster pushed himself off the counter and walked over to his friends.

When you looked over, about two seats down from where you stood, you found Hangman looking at you.

"Why does he get to call you sweetheart without you getting all snappy on him?", Hangman asked after he witnessed Rooster calling you by, what he thought was, your hated nickname and instead of getting mad at him you just shot Rooster a wide smile.

"Because despite how our first meeting went, he patiently waited for his drink, said thank you AND tipped me", you explained to the aviator while you walked towards him.

After your first encounter, you had a few more run-ins of the same kind. Always douchey on his part and you always countered in a sarcastic, witty way, or so you’d liked to think.

"I tipped you on the next round", he countered. "I tipped myself on your next round", you told him, hinting at the douchebag tax you charged him.

"But with my money. And I paid your fantasy tax", he doubled down. "Tax isn't something you can avoid, fantasy or not. That's not how the IRS works", you lectured him in a playful seriousness.

"Good god, you're killing me, sweetheart", he rolled his eyes at you. "If only, Bagman, if only. And don't call me sweetheart", you told him off, intentionally using Phoenix' version of his call sign that you knew he hated.

“Are you just here to complain or do you want something from me?”, you asked him and wiped down the counter in front of him. “A beer, doll”, he placed his order. “A definite no to doll”, you immediately told him and wagged your finger in front of his face. “I’m just working my way through the nicknames until you like something or you give in. I don’t mind either way”, he shrugged his shoulder. “Rooster called me ma’am. I can work with that”, you told him and placed a fresh bottle of beer before him.

“I’m not calling you ma’am. I’d rather follow my original plan”, he countered. “You know what might be a crazy idea? Calling someone by their birthname”, you told him and rested your hands on the counter. He stared you down with his piercing green eyes and you felt a little twist in your stomach.

“Nah, that’s not fun”, he simply stated and shot you a wide smile, showing off his pearly whites before he got up and walked back to the others.

You shook your head over his cockiness which could get on your nerves sometimes and it really did, but the banter between the two of you was actually quite fun. The way he presented himself would have you think he was not very popular but actually the opposite was the case.

The way his teammates talked to and about him let you know that he had their respect but he also demanded it. He had no problem voicing that he was always top of the class, one of the best if not the best. He exuded BDE when entering a room, talked up a girl or got up against Rooster for what seemed like pretty much anything.

You didn’t know another way to describe it but he was a pretty boy with a HUGE ego and needed to be put in his place from time to time and you’d happily be the one to do it.

It was later in the evening when the jukebox suddenly stopped playing. You didn’t notice at first because of the wall of voices in the well-filled bar, only when you heard someone tickling the ivories of the piano that was standing right next to the bar circle.

You were making your rounds, collecting empty glasses and beer bottles as you heard someone starting to sing. When you looked up, you found Rooster sitting at the piano and his friends Phoenix, Payback, Fanboy and Bob were standing around him, joining in on his singing. You had just stopped at a table close to them, filling up the last space on your already full trey and smiled at the joy they had singing together. When Phoenix spotted you as you walked past them, she pulled you into the round. You only had about time to quickly put your tray down on the bar top, careful not to drop anything.

"Do you know 'Great balls of fire'?", she screamed in your ear over the music and loud singing around you. "Yes, but...", you tried to answer but she just shoved you next to the piano into Roosters vision. The current song had just ended and Phoenix tapped Roosters shoulder. "Play ‘Great balls of fire’, she’ll sing with you", she shouted at his ear over the loud noise in the bar. "No, guys, I have to work and I don't really wanna sing", you told them and wanted to get back to your trey of empty glasses.

Instead of listening to you, Rooster just started playing and Phoenix and Fanboy blocked your way out of the little circle that had formed around Rooster and you.

“You shake my nerves and you rattle my brain”, Rooster started singing the first line and then looked at you. You just looked at him with big eyes. People from the crowd started looking at you, too, as they expected you to sing as you stood right next to the piano. Rooster just played the part again and again.

"I play it until you sing", he shouted over the music. You looked at him with a distraught look on your face. People started whistling as they got annoyed at the same tune being played over and over again. Phoenix held her bottle of beer in front of you and nudged you with her shoulder. You got a feeling that Rooster could be relentless when he wanted something. You groaned, grabbed the bottle of beer and took a big chug before you handed it back to Phoenix.

"Start again", you told Rooster with your finger moving in a circle in mid-air and cleared your throat. He sang the first line again and this time you picked up the second part of the verse right away. “Too much love drives a man insane.”

You didn't sound bad, quite the opposite, Rooster thought to himself. He sang the next line and you sang back the next. "Louder, Y/N", he yelled and when the chorus came around you sang at the top of your lungs like everybody else around you.

“I’ve changed my mind, this love is fine. Goodness gracious, GREAT BALLS OF FIRE!”, you shouted along with everybody else.

“Kiss me baby”, Rooster sang and tapped his cheek with his finger for a moment before continuing to play. You guessed you were swept up in the moment because you bent down and kissed his cheek.

“Ooh, feels good”, he sang and shook his shoulders like your kiss actually made him shiver. Instead of singing along, you let out a laugh that was swallowed by the music and dozens of voices singing along.

When Rooster started playing the instrumental part in the middle of the song, he was really going off. You had no idea he was that good. He looked so cool and totally in his element. And on top of that, he was a fighter pilot. No wonder the girls were throwing themselves at him and he had easy game wherever he went.

You had to admit you were totally amazed and hypnotized by him at that moment. And when the line “Kiss me baby” came again, he didn’t have to ask you to give him a kiss on his cheek again.

You bent down to place your lips on his clean-shaven cheek but at the last second, he spun his head around and pressed his lips directly onto yours. “Ooh, feels good”, he sang even louder and threw you a mischievous smile while he kept playing.

Your eyes got big and you felt your cheeks burning up. Rooster was a real player and not just of the piano.

When you finally broke out of your paralyzed state, you playfully slapped his shoulder and joined back in at “Got to tell this world that you’re mine, mine, mine, mine”.

You had to admit you had fun singing with them. When everybody was really going off to another round of the chorus, you saw your chance and sneaked off, grabbing the trey of glasses, and making a beeline around the bar, getting behind the counter.

"Sorry, Penny, they made me sing", you apologized when you came face to face with your boss, starting to put the glasses into the baskets for the dishwasher. "Who knew you had a pipe on you, Y/N?", Penny said and lightly bumped her hips into yours, not looking the least bit mad that you had just taken a singing break in the middle of your shift on a really busy night.

When the song finally ended, everybody cheered and clapped for Rooster. He jumped up on the piano bench and pointed towards the bar. "And give it up for Y/N", he yelled and you saw dozens of heads turning towards you which made your cheeks blush again immediately. Everybody cheered just as loud for you and it sent an excited tingle up your spine. You blew your maestro a kiss from behind the counter and got back to taking drink orders.

Fanboy, Payback and Phoenix sat at the bar, Bob and Rooster stood behind them, completing the circle. Jake and Coyote also sat at the bar, a bit to the side.

When you walked up, you heard the group talking about fake boobs. You placed a new round of beers in front of them and managed to make out who they were talking about. They were all not so subtly looking at a tall blonde at the back of the bar talking to a guy, her boobs suspiciously big and high up for her overall size.

“I don’t know man, I can’t say. Not without touching them”, Fanboy said and cocked his head to the side as he studied the view. “Yeah, as you would ever get the chance to do that”, Phoenix commented.

You wiped the counter and smiled to yourself. “They’re totally fake”, you commented and all their heads turned to you. “Really? How do you know?”, Payback asked. “When she laughs, and she laughs with her whole body, they don’t give at all”, you explained and all their heads turned back to the woman. And as luck would have it, just at that moment she let out a big laugh, holding on to that guy’s arm. She’s totally going home with him tonight, you thought to yourself.

Even after your little time behind the bar, you got really good at spotting stuff like that. And Penny was really good at sniffing out when a fight’s about to break out and defusing the situation.

“Oh yeah, you’re right”, Fanboy said as he made the discovery. “Why do you know so much about fake boobs?”, Rooster asked intrigued. “I worked as a receptionist for a beauty doc in New York”, you told them. “Did you see a lot of boobs?”, Fanboy kept asking. “Probably more than you”, you commented, you couldn’t help yourself. The group laughed and Rooster gave you a high five.

“But it’s ridiculous how expensive they are. Well, if you want it to be good, at least”, you told them further.

The main rush of the night was over and you had a little time to talk, not needing to hand out new drinks every two seconds.

“What was the most expensive pair you’ve ever seen?”, Phoenix asked you. You thought for a second. “I think the craziest were 8k a piece”, you told them and their eyes got big. “For boobs?”, Rooster said a little loud and some heads turned his way. Out of the corner of your eyes you saw Hangman looking over.

“It’s crazy how much people are willing to pay for stuff like that. I could never afford anything close to that. But I have to admit they looked spectacular”, you said and formed perfectly round boobs in front of your chest.

“To be fair, you have no need in that department”, Payback toasted you with his beer. Anybody else might have made it sound gross or sleezy, but he had a real charm about him and you knew how he meant it.

“Thank you, but just because they’re natural doesn’t mean they were cheap. The right one’s mostly McDonalds and the left one’s pizza. That’s because it is also the bigger one”, you told them with a smirk. As prove, you bent over and pulled your shirt down a bit, revealing the hem of your breasts. “See?”, you said and had them look directly down your cleavage.

Partially you meant it as a joke, but also you were sure that even they all liked to flirt and joke around, none of them actually considered you as sexy or a potentially datable person. That was just never the case for you. Why should it be different with them?

“Okay, shows over”, you pulled your shirt back up and snapped your fingers in front of their faces. “Pay up, it’s late”, you told them and made them close their tabs for the night. They waved a goodbye at you before they left the bar as a group.

“Pay up”, you said to Hangman as you made your rounds of closing the tabs of the remaining customers. Coyote must have left already as he was sitting there alone.

“So, you moved here from New York?”, Hangman asked as he handed you his credit card, having no trouble admitting that he had eavesdropped on your conversation. “No, from New Jersey”, you answered, not planning on going into more detail as you swiped his card through the machine. “And there were no more jobs left in New Jersey so you decided to torment the good people of San Diego?”, he asked and a mocking smile appeared on his face.

“You know, it has always been my dream to move across the country to become a bartender, getting to serve a green-eyed jerk for a living”, you told Hangman and handed his card back to him.

“You’re welcome, sweetheart. Here I am to make your dreams come true”, he said with a wink and a sleezy smile.

You waited for a moment then leaned over the bar counter to look at the floor right in front of it. “Nope, you didn’t drop dead. But a girl can dream”, you shot at him with a fake smile.

“You can dream as much as you want about me”, he said with a cocky smile plastered across his face.

“Why are you so easy on the eyes but so hard on the ears?”, you asked him with an eyeroll. “So, you think I’m pretty?”, he asked in return and leaned his underarms on the bar top. “No, you think you’re pretty. And that’s the problem. Have you ever considered therapy? Or a good hit to the back of your head?”, you suggested and polished some glasses.

“Sometimes I get my head banged against the headboard, I don’t always have to be on top”, he told you. You exaggerated a dry-heave motion and sound and Hangman let out a big laugh.

“See ya, Y/N”, he said as he pushed himself off the bar and walked towards the exit. “I hope not”, you called after him.

You turned around to put away the freshly polished glasses and tried your hardest not to picture Jake in bed, naked and sweaty. But you failed. Failed miserably.

next: Part 3

#jake hangman seresin #the girl behind the bar #jake hangman seresin x plus-size reader #topgun maverick #jake hangman seresin imagine #glen powell #glen powell fanfiction #glen powell imagine #jake seresin fanfiction #topgun maverick fanfiction

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lieutenantfloyd · 7 months ago

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Top Gun: Maverick Fic Recs

Hey y'all! Here are 21 of my favorite TGM fanfics of all genres and ships, listed in no particular order.

Some of these fics are 18+ so read at your own risk. None of these works are mine and all credit goes to the amazing authors! <3

X READER

Safe Zone by @sunlightmurdock — (Series // Rooster and Hangman x reader)

A team of elite naval aviators holding down the fort at the North Island Air Base while they wait for reinforcements after a virus sweeps the continental U.S. - only, it’s been three months and no one has shown up.

Hold My Hand by @labyrinth-runner — (Series // Cyclone x Reader)

Jag! Reader is assigned to defend a pilot, finding the job to be more complicated than she thought.

Rooster’s Flight or a Manual for the Marooned by DontLetThemTakeYouAlive (Series // Rooster x Reader/OC)

"Rooster's Flight: A Manual for the Marooned" follows Madeline, a pastry chef escaping scandal in Amsterdam, and Bradley, a lost naval aviator stationed in Japan. Fate brings them to sunny San Diego, where their friendship blossoms amid career challenges and a clashing of characters. Madeline's culinary journey intertwines with Bradley's self-discovery, navigating love and loss.

Resilience, self-discovery, and the unpredictable paths of career and matters of the heart shape their narrative in this tale of second chances and unlikely connections.

Fine Piece by @dragon-kazansky (Series // Cyclone x Reader)

You have it bad for Vice Admiral Simpson. But to prove you’re fit for the job; you need to put that aside and focus on the flying.

Someone Special by @fanboygarcia (Oneshot // Cyclone x Reader)

What happens when the Dagger Squad catches on to the fact that known grump turned lovesick fool Admiral Simpson has someone special in his life?

Invisible String by @halfway-happyyy (Oneshot // Rooster x Reader)

the one where rooster’s about to leave on a mission he doesn’t know if he’ll be back from, and he wants you in every way imaginable. as always, soft feelings ensue!

Do you wanna make somethin’ of it by @theharddeck (Oneshot // Rooster x Reader)

turns out, our favorite WSO has a side hustle, as quinn's favorite cowboy.

@bullet-prooflove's entire TGM masterlist

Everything she writes is outstanding, but the Beau x Ally fics (The First Time Series, The General Series, Deployment!Series, and Syria!Series) are something I think about literally everyday.

i don’t know, blame the air force? by @gretagerwigsmuse (Oneshot // Rooster x Reader)

in which lieutenant commander bradshaw feels his girlfriend’s wrath after she gets her year end bonus and uncle sam takes a pretty penny out of it

There Are Rules by @tongue-like-a-razor (Series // Maverick x Reader)

Your risky flying seriously pisses off your instructor at Top Gun and you're about to find out why.

Through the Hourglass by @bratshaws (Series // Rooster x OC)

Rooster x Plus Size OC!

Happy Birthday, Mr. President by @rhettabbotts (Oneshot // Bob x Reader)

after a hard week, the last thing bob wanted to do was attend his birthday party. so instead, he plays out one of his biggest fantasies with you.

Whoever's in Lemoore by @cherrycola27 (Oneshot // Bob x Reader)

A fic based on the Reba McEntire song "Whoever's in New England"

Angels Don't Always Have Wings by @bradshawssugarbaby (Series // Rooster x Reader)

a series of oneshots revolving around baseball player!Bradley Bradshaw x reader (nicknamed Angel)

Do I? by @bradshawssugarbaby (Oneshot // Cyclone x Reader)

Inspired by Do I? by Luke Bryan. (this fic was so good I had to go take a walk after reading it for the first time)

Road to Perdition by @sailor-aviator (Series // Hangman x Reader)

The Great Depression wasn't called a depression for nothing. Jobs were scarce, and the price of food and other necessities were rising higher and higher with each passing day. What little money you were able to make went straight to the bank and out of reach from your booze-swilling lech of a brother. It's on one such run that you come face to face with members of the infamous Dagger Gang; a group of, admittedly handsome, men who steal from the banks to hand it back out to the poor. You want nothing to do with them, but that blond-headed devil might just have something to say to the contrary. (1930s!Mobster!AU)

His Best Friend's Wedding by @ereardon (Series // Rooster x Reader)

Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw has been your best friend for a decade. He’s also your fiancé’s best man. So when he shows up at your hotel room the night before your wedding, it’s just because he’s your friend, right?

OTHER SHIPS

Mistaken Identity by @ladylanera — (TGM x Mission: Impossible crossover)

What should be a joyous homecoming quickly unravels after it's discovered a nefarious, unknown group has put a hit out on Captain Mitchell, mistaking the Navy captain for being a covert IMF operative by the name of Ethan Hunt who has an uncanny likeness to the captain for some reason. Enter a twisty web of lies that threaten the very existence of the family as we know it.

**Fic contains spoilers for Mission: Impossible Dead Reckoning Part One**

Flower Power by ReformedTsundere — (Icemav)

Flowers, Pete reminds himself, slamming the last of the books closed, are the worst.

New Chat Created: North Island Daggers by Comin2U — (gen fic)

Harvard: why Whatsapp and not just a basic text message? Hangman: because one of us has an android and ruins the ability to message with just internet. Coyote: Screw you too hangman. ________________________________ In which 12 daggers, the best of the best of naval aviators, are all a bunch of kids and thrown in a group chat.

come fly with me (let's fly, let's fly away) by GatheringBlue — (TGM x 9-1-1 Crossover)

It's a common misconception that Buck trained to be a Navy SEAL. For as long as he could remember, flying had been his dream. Most little kids wanted to be a firefighter or an astronaut, but Buck had always wanted to be a pilot. He wanted to fly far, far away from home, where his parents’ comments that might as well have been slaps for how badly they stung couldn’t get to him. Flying was his way out. His escape. If he was thousands of feet up in the sky, way up with the clouds, then his parents couldn’t touch him. No one could. When Buck got pulled from the reserves just after the lawsuit, it seemed like perfect timing. There was nothing left for him in LA. Not anymore. So, it looked like Buck was heading back to Top Gun.

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frenchkisstheabyss · 9 months ago

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♰ ⱠɆ₲łØ₦ ♰

♰ Pairings: demon!matz x chubby!fem!reader, demon!wooyoung x chubby!fem!reader, a sprinkle of demon!san x chubby!fem!reader, (eventual priest yeosang/jongho/yungi x chubby!fem!reader in the future)

♰ Genre: demon au/horror/smut

♰ Summary: Congratulations, darling! It's your destiny to be impregnated by four demons in an ancient Satanic sex ritual that'll lead to the birth of the Antichrist and bring about the end times. Now hop down into this demons' layer and let's get this thing going. Armageddon awaits.

♰ Word Count: 3.1kish

♰ Warnings: breeding kink, unprotected sex, no pulling out, double vaginal penetration, overstimulation, nipple play, breast play, rough sex, lots of breath play, ritualistic sex, scratching, a lil blood, oral sex (f receiving), sensory play, a lil nibbling, huge huge demon dicks so there's mucho vaginal stretching, the dicks can shapeshift (yes, shapeshift), demons give some dom vibes, reader's for sure subby, a lil possessiveness, demonic powers, religious themes, bondage, a lil choking, telepathy, your body's controlled via powers at some point, pet names (pet, little one, darling, good girl), and that should be it.

♰ A/N: Hold on, hear me out, I can explain. No, I can't. I'm a heathen. I like spooky shit and fucking demons so, ya know, here we are. This is the first part in a series I'm writing and it'll probably only get more unhinged from here honestly so, yeah, hop in babes. It's apocalypse time.

“And he asked him, ‘What is thy name?’And he answered saying, ‘My name is Legion, for we are many’” - Matthew 5:9

♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ Laberinto del Demonio ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰

Tucked away on the tree shrouded grounds of an aging Spanish manor, a labyrinth spirals deep into the earth. Beneath the lush grass and packed dirt, surrounded by the twisted roots of trees that feast upon the decaying corpses of those who attempt to intrude, this labyrinth is home to fearsome creatures who’ve peacefully slumbered here for hundreds of years. But tonight they awaken. For you.

“Such a beautiful girl. Just let me…” Wooyoung compliments, fussing with a few flyaway strands of your hair. In the year that’s passed since Wooyoung came into your life all he’s done is fuss over you. You’ve never known a more attentive lover. Never met a man so intent on catering to your every whim.

Wooyoung likes to say that it’s the Fates that brought the two of you together but that’s more than a grave exaggeration on his part, it’s an outright lie. If he’d waited on the Fates it’d have been another 200 years before he stumbled upon a female descendant of your bloodline. Finding you by any means necessary, however brutal, was paramount to fulfill his mission and to soothe the heart that ached for what he lost when his love was stripped from him all those centuries ago.

Your resemblance to her is uncanny but everything else about you is incredibly unique. It stimulates him in endless ways, everyday with you marked by some new, exciting experience. He adores you beyond measure and the others, soaking you in through their collective consciousness, have grown incredibly fond of you too.

“There. Perfect, as always” he smiles, taking a step back to admire your silk adorned figure glowing under the light of the moon.

Atop the labyrinth, you admire the torch lit staircase that spirals beneath you. It emits a certain energy that hangs heavy in the crisp autumn air, drawing you towards it. You know what awaits you tonight. Wooyoung went over it with you a dozen times in the last 24 hours alone. It’s something you long for, something that has your body flush with heat at the mere thought of. Yet you can’t seem to shake the nerves that have your fingers trembling as the handsomely dressed dark haired man takes your hand.

Wooyoung strokes your cheek and you soften at his touch, “Are you nervous, my pet?”

“Not nervous. It’s just…” you sigh, nibbling at your inner lip, “What if I’m not who you think I am? What if I can’t handle it?”

Wooyoung lets out a laugh you’ve come to liken to a jackal. Loud, mischievous, and undeniably his. “Can’t handle it? It’s that all you’re worried about?”

He steps in closer to you, stealing a quick, passionate kiss from your crimson stained lips. “You were made for this. In every lifetime you have been and in every lifetime you’ll always be. Now come, the others are waiting.” You soak in Wooyoung’s words, forever a sponge ready to absorb his praise, and gift him the faint smile he needs to lead you forward.

Less forward, more down.

Down past walls built of jagged stone, thick vines weaving between the cracks sprouting tiny emerald flowers you’ve never seen before. Down past ancient symbols carved in meticulously measured increments. It seems to be instructions of some sort. For what you aren’t sure but a tugging in the pit of your stomach tells you that you’ll soon find out.

At last reaching the bottom of the labyrinth you find yourself in a cavernous room dimly illuminated by a hundred or so candles. At the center you spot a large pool of slithering black silk not unlike that which hugs your body. Wooyoung leads you to the center and, as he does, you feel the material begin to writhe against your skin. It snakes its way around your curves, exposing your plush figure to the warmth of the pit as you sense you’ve become one with it.

A chorus of voices begin whispering in your ear, invisible hands grasping at your most intimate areas. Wooyoung captures your lips in another kiss, already groaning at thoughts of what he has planned for you. His hands wander below your waist, fingernails growing sharper as they sink into the softness of your ass. You throw your arms around him, deepening the kiss, but he indulges you only for a brief moment before he begins to back away.

“Soon, my love” he says without speaking a word, “See you on the other side.”

“Woo, wait!” you call out to him but a strong wind whips through the room, extinguishing the flames of the outer candles and swallowing him into darkness. The force of the wind knocks you off your feet but you land with no impact at all, the pit catching you in its embrace, thin strips of silk winding around your thighs. The air around you floods with laughter layered upon laughter, Woo’s melded somewhere in between.

“Aah, finally I see her through my own eyes” a voice breathes out, tickling your spine.

“Such a precious little human. So cute” another much deeper voice hums, the vibration ringing through your chest.

“And she looks so, so…” a third voice chimes in, light as a feather, “Soft!”

In the blink of an eye the silk wrapped around your thigh transforms into a hand, pitch black with razor sharp claws dripping a thick scarlet liquid down your leg. You let out a scream of absolute terror and it transforms back into the harmless material. It’s as if it were all in your head and the hand was never there to begin with.

“Seonghwa, you’re scaring her!” Wooyoung shouts and invisible arms envelope you, comforting you as your fear subsides.

“Oh, no. I’m so sorry. I got a little carried away” Seonghwa apologizes, emerging from the pit in his human form.

He swims through the pit as if it were a pool, only his torso visible as he comes between your legs, his much gentler hands smoothing their way up your thigh. You don’t recognize the face of this beautifully androgynous creature but you’re positive you’ve felt his energy around you before.

“Is this better for you?” he asks, breath hitching at the sight of the slick, sweet arousal dripping from your core.

“Seonghwa?” you moan his name for the first time as his tongue extends to flick your bud. “Woo’s told me so much about you.”

A shimmer of gold ripples across the dark pools that sit where his eyes should be, lips curling into a grin that’s both alluring and sinister. “Aah and what did he tell you about me? Good things?” he asks, his tongue whipping down to prod your tight hole. Seonghwa delights in the string of moans you release as he teases you, pushing his moist tongue into you little by little. Your walls eager to grant him entrance, stretching to accommodate the increasing thickness and length of his tongue.

“Good? Y-yes, good” you breathe out, shocked at the depths his tongue manages to reach. There are no limitations, no bottoming out. He slips his way into every part of you. Tickling the back of your stomach, lapping at your walls in every direction at once. You can taste yourself on the back of your tongue, a sudden fullness in your throat suppressing your desperate moans. Your body’s no longer yours. It does only what he wishes it to. Moves only as he commands.

“You’re being greedy. Share her. Now” something inhuman growls, breaking through the fog in your mind.

It’s not something you were meant to hear, the shedding of those performative voices existing solely for your comfort, but you’re far from afraid. On the contrary, such brutality laced with so much need has you clenching tighter, juices gushing out of you as Seonghwa’s tongue thrusts harshly into your core.

Seonghwa grunts defiantly, lifting you a few inches above the pit without laying a finger on you. Your arms dangle at your sides, fingertips grasping at nothing as your body arches against air. Droplets of your arousal run down your thigh, landing on the silk below and the creatures around you release a collective sigh of satisfaction. They can taste you, the ghost of your flavor lingering on their tongues.

“You are like the other women in your bloodline…” the inhuman voice whispers, becoming more human the closer it gets, “Delicious.”

Two hands reach from outside of your field of vision to caress your plump breasts, firmly pinching your sensitive nipples. Your head falls to the side and you're met with another new face. This one more boyish in his handsomeness but more authoritative in his presence. Wooyoung told you that you’d know his leader when you met him. That you’d feel this immense need to gain his approval, to be as obedient to him as you can be.

“This is Hongjoong” you think and the leader smiles in response.

“Delicious and smart, mmm” he hums, leaning into your neck and breathing your scent deep into his lungs. “Let her speak.”

The fullness vacates your throat at once, leaving you gasping for air, all those suppressed moans echoing off the labyrinth’s walls. Seonghwa’s tongue flutters softly inside of you now, his pace slowing just enough for you to speak.

“You know what you’re here for, don’t you little one? Our Wooyoung’s explained it to you well?” Hongjoong asks, kissing you on the neck, his canines nicking at your smooth, fragrant flesh.

You let out a whine, adrenaline coursing through your veins, “Yes…he…everything…told me.”

Hongjoong laughs at your incoherence, finding it quite adorable, “And this is what you want? To let us have our way with you?” He releases one of your breasts, twisting the bud one last time before his hand's gliding down your body to grab handfuls of your belly. “To let us fill you with our seed and let it grow so that we’ll be, all of us, a family?”

You’re fixated on him, a constellation of tears twinkling on your lashes, “I want it. I want this.”

“Aah, then we shouldn’t waste any more time” Hongjoong sighs, gesturing to Seonghwa, “Let’s take her together, shall we?”

Seonghwa’s tongue retreats slowly from your core in an S motion that makes the tip lash sharply at your walls on its way out. The space between you and the pit below begins to close, all current information misleading you to believe the arms you fall into will belong to Hongjoong.

“Relax your body and watch the skies” Seonghwa instructs as you fall against his chest and the vines between the stone walls climb their way up the ceiling. They radiate a vibrant amethyst, the sprouting emerald flowers emitting a sparkling dust that mists through the air. A trail of it drifts down the wall, drawing your attention to the shadows cast upon it by the light of the candles.

That’s when you see it. The silhouette of the creature crawling its way up your body. You’ve yet to feel him but he’s there, advancing up your figure, twisted horns brushing your cheek as it’s face meets yours. Hongjoong takes you carefully by the throat, tilting your head to face him in his human form, “The skies not the shadows, pet. Never our shadows.” It isn’t a threat and it need not be. Your obedience is promised, sealed with a kiss richer than any wine.

Hongjoong’s mouth sips hungrily from yours as he spreads your legs, the swollen head of his cock leaking arousal as it stretches your already soaked core. “Mmphmm” you whine between his lips, your lids squeezing shut the further he pushes into you. He grants pleasure to your walls unlike any the earthly realm could bring. He seems to transform inside of you, shifting into whatever he must to perfectly fill every ridge of your delicate pussy.

Your body wants to clench around him, to feel him as completely as it can but, no matter how hard you try, an invisible barrier prevents it. Anatomy 101 dictates that, with the size of what you’ve taken, there should be not a centimeter of free space. By all means you should be screaming in agony, not pouring out such blissful moans. But, as Woo said, you were made for this and so there’s room still when Seonghwa’s palms come to rest behind your knees, hips rising to lift his pulsing length into your warmth.

Your eyes fall open and Hongjoong breaks from the kiss, freeing you to gurgle and moan as you at last watch the skies. There’s no need for clenching now, no possible way for you to do so. Buried deep within you, they exist both as one and as two. As one when they thrust into you, their demonic growls contrasting the lightness of your moans. As two when they split at the head, charting their own courses to punish your tender nerve endings.

Seonghwa nuzzles against your neck, licking beads of sweat from your shoulder before it extends down to trace your collarbone. Hongjoong cups one of your breasts, fingertips digging into its plushness as he purses his lips around your nipple, suckling at the bud. Seonghwa’s tongue envelopes your other breast, the tip of his tongue circling your nipple.

Your body’s overcome with an unnatural heat that ravages you like a wildfire. Your mind’s whirling as you think of everything and nothing at once. Your teary eyes remain glued to the skies—always the skies, never their shadows—and your senses begin to shift. No longer are you smelling the honeyed scent of the flowers, you’re tasting it. And what you smell are colors, amethyst and emerald now aromatic as if they were herbs.

“You are such a beauty to behold” Hongjoong’s voice praises, breaking through the fractured barriers of your mind.

Seonghwa’s voice coasts in after his. “We haven’t felt this alive in centuries” it says, tickling your consciousness as does the breath at the back of your neck. “Maybe we could keep her like this. Whining and quivering between us. Forever our plaything. Would you like that, darling?”

Hongjoong dips a hand between your legs, gathering your slick and dragging his drenched fingers across your lips. His laughter rings out in your head, “I think she likes the idea of it. Maybe…”

“Aaah!” you let out a scream that cracks to pieces in your throat. You’re hit with a rush that makes you feel absolutely feral, your nails thrashing at Hongjoong’s back as it overtakes you.

“Good girl” he coos, unphased by the blood trickling from his wounds, “Come your pretty little brains out for us.”

Seonghwa allows your legs to drop, strips of silk reaching up to coil around your ankles. His arms come around your waist, keeping you in place to fuck into you harder and faster. Thrusting. Pulsing. Claiming you. Flooding you with their seed until it’s spilling from your core and you’re coming all over their cocks, soaking them in your juices. Never in your life have you felt this perfect. This complete.

It’s impossible to differentiate between the labored breathing shared between the three of you. Even as you drift down from your high your breaths all sound as if they’ve left the same body. You arrived at this place a human but maybe now not as much. A part of you has been given away and, if it means feeling this way forever, you don’t want it back.

Seonghwa softly brushes your hair away from your cheek, showering it in kisses, “You’ll rest with us now.”

“Don’t be afraid” Hongjoong says, kissing his way down your tummy, “It can get a bit dark down here.”

“Down where?” you ask weakly before you’re snatched beneath the surface of the pit. Instinctively you begin flailing your limbs in a desperate attempt to keep yourself from drowning but your panic’s soothed by the two sets of arms cuddling up to you.

Surrounded by their warmth, you let the darkness swallow you and drift off to sleep.

♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ 2. Despertar ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰

“Woo!” you scream, shooting upright, your heart pounding in your ears. You can’t fathom how long you’ve been asleep, the finer details of the previous events lost in the haze of sleep. You look around for Woo, for any of them, but you’re met only with the light, sparkling mist that hung from the ceiling above the pit.

Stretching your aching legs you feel something slink across them. “Wh…what is this?” you gasp, watching the fluorescent vines curiously explore your figure. Flower buds bloom as the vines reach between your legs, curving to ride your thighs up and around your torso.

“Pretty aren’t they?” Woo asks, appearing behind you without a sound.

“Woo, you scared me!” you pout, tempted to elbow him in the shin for frightening you so terribly.

Woo crouches down to loop his arms around you from behind. “I’m sorry. I didn’t expect you to be so easily frightened all things considered” he teases, resting his chin on your shoulder. A graceful wave of his hand and he’s plucked a flower from the vine, twirling it before your eyes. You marvel at its beauty, the emerald glow creating a halo around your irises.

“Where do these come from?” you ask, brimming with wonder.

There’s a rustling in a nearby corner, the silhouette of a broad shouldered man emerging from the darkness. He smiles at you as he steps into the light of the mist, striking you with his features. Woo tucks the flower behind your ear, pointing to the approaching man. “They come from the mountain.”

The man kneels before you, his dimpled cheeks inches from your face, and the vines tighten around you at his will. “But you can call me San” he says, obviously as smitten with you as you are with him. “Are you ready for us, love?”

You swallow hard and take your last full breath of air before the vine’s snug around your neck. “Yes, mmm, ready” you moan softly, surrendering to the strength of the vines.

San takes you by the chin, his thumb tracing your jawline, “Hmm, breaking you will be fun. Just try not to look down too much. Might get lightheaded.”

“Down?” you ask, glancing around at the bed of vines. You put all of your focus into watching them, searching for something you might’ve missed. But they’re as they were before, humming and glowing, doing their master’s bidding.

San guides your head in the opposite direction, revealing the pit of writhing black silk and the room illuminated with candles.

“Oh, darling, haven’t you figured it out yet? You aren't down there anymore” Wooyoung laughs, tossing a flower into the air and watching it drift down into the pit, “You’re up here.”

#ateez au #ateez smut #ateez x reader #poly ateez x reader #wooyoung x reader #hongjoong x reader #hongjoong smut #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa smut #choi san x reader #ateez x chubby reader #ateez x female reader #ateez x you #chubby reader #plus size reader

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hannibals-favourite-meal · 1 year ago

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15 and 20 with Eddie Brock/Venom please!

.⋆｡At Last｡⋆.

Eddie Brock/Venom x plus size reader

A quiet weekend in the mountains with your boyfriends is just what you all needed (and totally wasn’t because you’re on the run from the law)

Warnings: reader is a bit of a brat, mentions of getting shot at and abusive parents, past murder, fluff, implied smut

Minors DNI

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

5k Celebration

Peace to Eddie Brock seemed to be an entirely foreign concept. His whole life was one shit storm after another, there had never been a moment of calm between his abusive father, his struggles in school, the endless fight between him and his bosses, the breakup with Annie, and then discovering Venom. He supposed he chased the chaos, needing that dose of adrenaline and fear in his blood to remind him that he was still alive and fighting.

But the second that you came crashing into his life (quite literally too, you hit Venom with your car), all he had known was that he could finally breathe. You pulled him from the fire countless times and this weekend was yet another one of those times.

Eddie had begun to get lazy in controlling Venom, letting him do what he pleased during nights when Eddie simply couldn’t be bothered to even wake up to go on patrol with him. And as a result of that, Venom accidentally ate the head of the leader of the most powerful gang in San Francisco so the three of you had to lay low for a while. Using the last of your savings, you bought a shitty cabin in the Rocky Mountains and settled there with your boys.

The whole day had been spent in silence but it was far from uncomfortable, for you at least. Venom and Eddie currently weren’t talking to each other though both seemed adamant that they stay close to you as the sun began to set over the mountains and the chill started to creep in through the poor insulation.

Eddie’s head rested on your chest, his thick arms wrapped around your waist as Venom had nuzzled into your neck, purring happily every time you gave him a small peck between his huge milky eyes. Your nails trailed up and down Eddie’s bare back, tracing every imperfection on his skin, slowly easing the stress from his body.

All he could hear was the steady beat of your heart beneath his ear. Eddie smiled softly, rubbing the tip of his nose between your breasts. You giggled at the feeling and dug your nails into the small pudge of fat at his hips. “What’s got you so affectionate, Brock?”

“Jus happy.” He muttered, squeezing your waist even tighter than before. Venom nodded against your skin in agreement.

He is right nibble, we are very happy.

“So you guys are finally done with the silent treatment to each other?”

“No.” No. You raised an eyebrow at your partners to which Venom chose to continue speaking. We just love you, that is all we agree on. You rolled your eyes at them.

“Are you sure you’re both not just sucking up to me because you think I’m mad about having to quit my job and go on the lam?” Venom growled at that, making the entire bed rumble with the force of it as Eddie felt his blood pressure start to rise. Yet, no part of him felt that usual tensing of his muscles or pounding in his ears that usually came with anger, just a buzzing in his veins that only appeared in your presence.

You said you weren’t mad. Venom pouted, making you coo at him.

“Aww baby, I’m not, I promise. I just like teasing you both.” The chill in the room didn’t stop Eddie from sitting up between your plump legs, the thick duvet that had been covering you both falling away. Your eyes, though they still sparkled with mischief, grew darker as you looked at the half naked man currently towering over you. He smirked when your gaze dropped to the old sweatpants that sat low on his hips.

Venom slid back into Eddie but you knew he was lurking below the surface, waiting to strike. “Do you now?” You captured your bottom lip between your teeth, barely managing to suppress a whine at the deep timbre of his voice.

“Well, I think it’s only fair. We’re in the middle of nowhere and you didn’t let me keep my phone. I have to entertain myself somehow.” Eddie’s muscles rippled as he leaned forwards, pushing your soft body into the mattress, keeping you pinned exactly where he wanted to.

We can smell her. Venom purred in Eddie’s mind. “Yeah buddy we can.” He agreed, taking in a deep breath and letting the thick scent of your arousal wash over them.

“The last time you two had a secret conversation in front of me, it led to me getting shot at.” You snapped though there was no bite in your tone. Eddie groaned under his breath and rested more of his weight onto you.

He gripped one of your thighs tight enough to bruise as he brushed his lips against the shell of your ear. “Oh you’re getting pregnant tonight. Fucking brat.” You shuddered beneath him.

“You’re all talk.” Venom snarled and a black tendril shot out from Eddie’s side, wrapping tightly around your wrists, pinning them to the bed above you.

“Try us.” Their voices moulded together and you smirked.

At last, Eddie Brock had his peace.

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ldysmfrst · 5 months ago

Text

Incomplete (3) - Something is Wrong...

Paring: Ateez OT8 x Plus-sized FemReader

Status: Ongoing series

Chapter number: 3 of unknown

Word count for Chapter: 8,272

Word count for Story: 18,866

Genre: Idol Soulmate AU

Warnings: NOT BETA READ!! This story will contain a bit of angst, fluff, smut, f/m, m/m, and m/f/m. This chapter contains panic attacks, unintentional causing of said panic attack.

Story Summary: Ateez are soulmates who earned their way to Fame once they found each other. What happens when a new pull comes during their Towards The Light World Tour? Does 8 really make 1?

INCOMPLETE MASTER LIST / LDYSMFRST MASTER LIST

“This way! It’s underground,” yells San, leading the way to the ladymate. The sea shanty sounded from San loud enough that there was no way his ladymate couldn’t hear it. He wasn't about to lose connection with you this time.

Seonghwa is right on San’s heels. He has felt the loss of the missing soulmate the longest. The feeling, compounded with the loss of his grandfather, propelled him forward. It was almost as if he had to slow down just so that he could follow San. Unlike Yeosang and San, his ability lets him know when a soulmate is nearby and what they are feeling, but he couldn’t use it to search for them.

Taking the escalator like they were stairs, San and Hwa were closely followed by Yeosang. Seeing the desperation in his oldest soulmate's eyes, he wasn’t about to let go of the silken rope binding him to the ladymate they were closing in on.

Keeping up with his hyungs, Jongho used what he could of his ability to keep his mates focused and not fearful or anxiety-ridden. It wasn’t until San came running back to the museum that Jongho finally believed that this was actually happening—his anticipation building towards having another bonded soulmate soon.

Some sasaengs in the past had figured out Captain's ability and tried to confuse him with it. A few times, they got close enough to him that it caused strange rifts in the group, but after consulting with a specialist, we were informed that if we had a new soulmate, they would have a connection to everyone. There would be no single soulmate connection.

Hwa, on the other hand, seemed to find someone to keep from somewhere, but they always became good friends. Look at how close his soulmates got with Stray Kids. Hwa would have kept the little blonde Aussie if Chan-hyung had let him– soulmate bond or not.

Reaching the correct parking garage floor, the group stopped, looked around, and trying to see anyone who could have been affected by what was happening. A few groups were laughing, talking, and having a good time, but none looked aware of people walking by, much less feeling a soulmate bond pull.

“There, the lady with our tour shirt on and the clear purple bag,” says Yeosang. The other three looked in the direction he was pointing.

Taking tentative steps forward, Yeosang pulls hard on the invisible rope connecting him to his new soulmate. He smiles when he sees your feet stop moving momentarily before stumbling forward as if resisting him.

San crescendos the song he made for you, moving closer to you without hesitating once he hears a sweet hum following his tune. San has only seen the back of his new lady soulmate, and he can already tell you are beautiful.

You have a lush backside with full hips, broad shoulders, shapely legs, and arms with the smoothest-looking skin. Don’t even get him started on your plum rump.

He and his soulmates joked about all of them being strong but slender until he started going to the gym and Jongho filled out. Now, more than ever, he was happy that he bulked up because this meant he could be your personal mountain.

As they have learned from past mistakes, San must be the first to connect with the new soulmate to initiate the metaphysical bond. Back when San found Hongjoong, Yunho, and Mingi, they introduced themselves as ‘bandmates.’ None of them realized they were soulmates until San hugged them. After that, each mate gained their ability, and everything fell into place rather quickly, with San taking the lead.

San jogs around to stand before you, the woman holding the last piece of their soul. He didn’t expect you to run into him, but you did and quickly snapped out of your trance. You step back, touching his chest with your fingertips brushing the skin of his collarbone. The energy from the bond hits his body like a cannon blast through each fingertip.

When he sees your attempt to walk away, Seonghwa steps up behind you. His natural reaction is to hold his soulmate, placing his warm hands on your chilled skin. Closing his eyes, he lets the chill of the bond form from your skin crash over his body like a tidal wave.

The four fully bonded soulmates can see your confusion, your body seemingly frozen.

Hwa finally opens his eyes to see everyone is there but hasn’t heard anything from anyone. You aren’t acting like a huge fan. Maybe you aren’t a fan and only have the shirt because you went with some friends who knew them. Surprisingly, this thought makes Hwa sad because, well, they are idols, and a non-fan won’t understand the lifestyle, which could cause problems.

You go to take a step forward out of Seonghwa’s hold, but he grips just a little tighter. He whispers, “Wait, please.” Looking at San, Hwa nods, prompting him to say anything.

Barley, loud enough to hear, you finally speak, “This isn’t real.”

Your voice sounds like the most beautiful notes in their world.

Ah, it’s denial, denial we can work with, thinks Jongho as he watches the three soulmates all fawn at you with heart eyes already.

With a warm, soft, and gentle smile, San steps towards you, the new baby mate, in the hands of his oldest mate and says, “Hello, Miss, I am Choi San. I think the nine of us need to sit down and talk.”

There was a moment of silence before a stuttered, “I… ah… have a plane to catch,” came from your lips. Which slightly confused everyone. Seonghwa, in particular, was confused because either fate had superb timing or something was amiss.

Jongho, at least has the smarts and tends to be the most level-headed one, asks, “You’re going on vacation now? Or going home?”

She looks at the man who spoke and whispers, “Choi Jongho.”

A smile graces the youngest soulmate; you know his name. This means that you are at least a fan of K-pop, if not a stan of Ateez.

“Yes, sorry. I am Choi Jongho. It’s nice to meet you,” he introduces himself.

You stare at the three before you, and a giggle sneaks out, but you still haven’t said anything more. This is when the remaining bonded mates join the circle around their new ladymate.

Unfortunately, this has started to attract the attention of people who pass by. They all understand that their time is limited once they get recognized. While they love Atiny, there is a better time for them to circle and vie for attention because it will become something akin to a shark frenzy.

“Oh, good! You found her, Sannie,” smiles Wooyoung. While they might not be an ability-match couple, they undoubtedly favored each other, which shows. Woo’s scent blankets the group around the circle, lowering the tensions.

“Christmas,” you murmur just above a whisper.

Joyfully bouncing, Wooyoung smirks, “So you did catch my scent, pretty.” Pretty is the first word that came to his head when you looked at him. You have the prettiest eyes he has ever seen.

“If she caught yours, then she must have felt my anchors,” Yunho comments while holding up Mingi. All the mates notice this and glance down at your ankle, worried that it is still hurting you since Mingi is still limping.

However, at this point, you had already leaned into Seonghwa, much to his delight. Now, however, you shifted to actually look at him. He watches with a soft, shy smile as your eyes dart across his face.

At first, he thought you were just accepting of him and the bond. Then he felt the panic building in your body, which was getting unhealthy in his eyes. Then again, any of his soulmates with any amount of panic is considered unhealthy. He concentrated on that feeling and tried to pull it into himself as he did with the others.

Nothing happens.

Hwa can still feel your emotions' instability. It isn’t working. He keeps trying to use his ability while attempting to remain calm and not add to your current state of disarray. Jongho pushes his ability to try to help keep Hwa from spiraling along with you.

Nothing.

“She hasn’t recognized us yet. We can’t help her. Hongjoong, I can’t,” Seonghwa says with a hint of desperation. His hands gripping your arms as thumbs rub in circles across your bare skin to comfort you.

He has also pulled you close to his body, not wanting to impose himself on you but offering another form of support. Seonghwa feels it’s the only support you are willing to accept right now.

San and Yeosang move, allowing Hongjoong to join you in the center. His eyes roam your form. Taking a deep breath, he relishes the addition of your Italian Stone pine blend to the rest of the soul mates. It has become the perfect balance with you in the center of it all.

“Do you know who I am?” questions Hongjoong with concern etched on his features. He knows you recognized the maknae, but it's not surprising, with millions of clips showing him singing like an angel while breaking apples with his bare hands.

“Captain,” you answer him with a shaky tone.

Pleased that you seem to be an Atiny, his eyes narrow as a smirk shows, “That is one of the many names Atiny uses, and it is my title. However, my soulmates don’t use that name unless we are in front of a camera. I am Kim Hongjoong, the second oldest of the Ateez soulmate bond.”

They watch you as you rapidly look at the rest of the members. They each agree with nods or hums. It's not common knowledge that Ateez is a bonded soulmate group. They have tried to keep it private.

Seonghwa gets ripples of happiness and relief from everyone.

“Soulmate bond? A whole group bond?” you question.

Nodding, Hongjoong answers, “The group of us, yes but I wouldn’t say we are whole yet. Boys…”

It’s then all attention is back on you. Everyone with a usable ability focuses on you, trying to get you to recognize the bond.

San starts your song back up.

Wooyoung scents the air heavily with his Mugo pine.

Yeosang pulls on the plaited silk rope and attempts to double its thickness.

Seonghwa and Jongho work together to help you escape your panicked state. They try to clear your mind of emotions so that you may think clearly and understand who they are to you.

“No. No, nonononoo,” you say, pulling away from Seonghwa and dropping to your knees as you continue to mumble, “Something is wrong, or I must be dreaming.”

“Y/n!” says a woman from just outside the circle.

San, ever the protector, with Jongho at his side, blocks the woman from getting near you. Their eyes glance at the guards, who start to make their way over. Hongjoong made a mental note to find out who let this woman get this close.

“Y/n! Excuse me, not to be rude, but let me get to my friend before she passes out,” another woman, closer to your age, demands.

The first woman steps up almost chest to chest with San, shaking off the guard who attempted to grab her wrist and says, “Back off or I will make you. I don’t care how famous you are.”

Hongjoong considers the seriousness of the two women who demand to get closer to you. He noticed they also wear concert merchandise and seemed to know your name.

With a nod, Jongho and San move enough to allow them to rush to your side. The two soulmates turn back to the center and close the gap. The privacy of what is happening is imperative, and it gets more challenging as the gathering crowd grows.

Joining you, kneeling on the parking garage floor, the bonded males watch as the women murmur to you calmly. They sound like they are coaching your breathing.

After some time, the feisty one stands to look at the members of Ateez and the gathering crowd. Turning to Hongjoong, she says, “I don’t know what your attention is with Y/n, but remaining here will just make her worse.”

“I would agree. We need to talk to her, but I am afraid that she won’t hear what we are saying,” laments Hongjoong, his eyes never leaving your kneeled form, blanketed by the younger of the two friends.

One of the bodyguards steps away from the human barricade that has formed around the eleven of you and says, “Sir, we have access to the conference room at the hotel if you wish to move there.”

“Thank you.” Hongjoong breaks his gaze on your form to meet that of the more forceful, older, leader-like friend: “We are staying at the hotel right around the corner. Maybe we can all talk there; I am sure she will need someone familiar with her right now.”

“What about our flight?” questions the younger and current human-esque blanket friend.

“That’s right. She mentioned she had a flight to catch. Do you three not live here?” San questioned.

They are all holding their breath because this time is very delicate for the nine soulmates. Breaking the bond that started with San and Seonghwa would permanently disable them. For the others who haven’t, they will have a permanent, hollow feeling in their chest.

The leader-like friend answered, “Kat and I don’t live here anymore. We live in Oregon. Y/n lives here. We have a flight in about 4 hours to return home.”

“Excuse me, Miss.” Seonghwa politely gains the attention of the leader-like friend. “We really must speak with your friend. Our manager will help you change your flight, and I will personally cover any fees or additional costs if you would come with us. Please?”

The two friends share an unspoken conversation. Finally, the older one turns to address Seonghwa, “Fine. BUT! We are not doing this because of who you are. You are requesting this meeting. You are causing whatever is happening to Y/n to happen. You will fix it. Understood?”

Nodding with a smile, Seonghwa agrees, “Of course, Miss. We take full responsibility for anything that happens with Y/n moving forward.”

“How many cars did you come in, Miss?” asks Jongho.

Both friends point to the rental car just a few feet away. “We were already getting in the car when you surrounded our friend. My name is Cindy, by the way. That is Kat, my only child. Y/n has been a family friend and a second child to me for almost 15 years.”

“Thank you, Cindy and Kat. I promise we will explain everything in the conference room,” Seonghwa says with another toothy smile. “Can I ride with you to the hotel? I can show you where to park, or you can follow the vans.”

“Hwa…” Jongho says softly, knowing that his match will keep trying to pull you to a calming center and wear himself down doing so.

The eldest soulmate sends Jongho a pleading look. It’s a broken look filled with hope and desperation, almost palpable, to do something to strengthen the connection between himself and you. The youngest nods in understanding. Hwa has to do this, or it will break him apart.

Looking at the trio in the middle, Jongho continues, “Hwa is the best choice right now to accompany Y/n. It wouldn’t be wise to leave her unattended.”

Cindy’s eyes narrow at Jongho before she reluctantly says, “Fine. You can go with us,” she relents suspiciously, looking at Seonghwa. “It’s a small car. You will have to sit in the front.”

“It’s settled. Hwa will go with you. The rest of us will go in the van,” Hongjoong says, pointing to the blacked-out, large passenger van that has pulled up with two additional cars. “The guards will be in the cars. When you pull out, Miss Cindy, it would be a good idea to follow between our van and the last guard car.”

“You got it, Captain,” says Cindy.

The drive literally around the block feels like it takes way too fast, but at the same time, it takes forever. The distance between the van and the car is almost too much for San, but since he is surrounded by 6 of his bonded mates, he can handle it.

Seonghwa, on the other hand, tries his best to sit in the front seat while angling himself to at least see you the whole trip. He politely answers simple questions from Cindy without giving away too much information while you are still seemingly not present.

Once the boys make it to the hotel, all but San quickly move to the conference room.

Hongjoong speaks with security to ensure they have started to figure out options for when it's time to go to the venue. He needs to know that you will be safe when not in the sight of one of the soulmates.

Wooyoung and Yunho started gathering water and sweets for you because they remembered all the warnings they got when Mingi went on his hiatus. The sugar will keep you from dropping worse, and staying hydrated during this time is vital.

Mingi was forced into a chair despite his protests to help by Yeosang and Jongho. His limping from your injury has gotten worse, and they need both of you to stop hurting. Not only did watching the two of you in pain hurt their hearts, but it would affect their performance tonight.

San stayed in the garage, waiting for Cindy to park the car. Once he heard the engine cut, he ran to your side of the car and helped you out. You either didn’t seem to know it was him, or the feel of the bond was lending to your acceptance of his help.

Seonghwa quickly exited and joined San, walking you into the building and the conference room. Glancing back to make sure the two friends were following. At the door, they were greeted by Hongjoong, their manager, and the head of their bodyguards.

Turning to San, Cindy, and Kat, Hongjoong instructs, “Please make your way inside. The boys have set up some refreshments. Hwa and Cindy, I believe the two of you need to speak with manager-nim to figure out the flight situation, and then you can join us.”

Kat and San nod, then guide you into the conference room with Hongjoong in tow.

“Miss Cindy, this is our main manager,” Seonghwa introduces the man standing in a simple suit and then gestures to the man dressed as a classic bouncer. “and here is our head of security.”

“Hello, I am Cindy. The other person with the short hair is Kat, and we are close friends with y/n. I guess we need to discuss the flight with you,” Cindy points to the manager. “Is there something else?” she questions, looking at the bodyguard.

The guard says, “Firstly, meeting such a protective friend is a pleasure. There are so many fake friends in the world today. Y/n is lucky to have the two of you, and it will be our job to keep the three of you safe.”

“We are in danger?!?” Cindy’s eyes widen at the new information.

Shaking his hands in protest, Seonghwa explains, “It isn’t that you are in danger. The crowd in the parking garage followed us. Your pictures will be online and in the tabloids. KQ will do its best to keep them out. However, in the meantime, we would be remiss not to ensure you are not disturbed between now and when you reach home.”

“Oh,” Cindy says with a bit of unease. “Um… Thank you for the concern, but won’t bodyguards just draw more attention to us?”

“That is where Mathew comes in,” the head of security says, gesturing to someone. A few seconds later, there is a guy dressed in emo-looking clothes. He looks Asian but not simultaneously; his eyes are crystal blue, and he has an undercut hairstyle.

“Mathew is one of the few of our team that tracks with stealth and blending in. He will join your group of friends and pose as either a boyfriend, friend, or brother to Kat, as they are close in age,” informs the guard.

“Wow, um. Okay. Well, that would be for Kat to decide. If Kat is comfortable with it, so am I,” Cindy says with determination. Mathew nods and heads into the conference room to speak with Kat.

“Miss Cindy, thank you again for your adaptability during this time,” smiles Seonghwa genuinely, almost short-circuiting Cindy’s brain for a second.

“You gotta stop doing that for now,” warns Cindy, confusing Hwa and causing his manager to laugh. “I am the first Atiny of the group. I knew of your group before your debut and have been trying to see you in concert since then. You are not my bias, but still, it's overwhelming when you smile like that.”

Hwa’s eyes widen briefly with an ‘o’ of his lips before he smiles again, “Sorry, I will try not to smile too much. If I am not your bias, may I know who is?”

Cindy narrows her eyes at him, so he clarifies, “I can warn them to take it easy on you during the meeting for now, though I can’t promise once you are back home if any of us will. It seems to be a game for the younger ones to try and steal fans.”

“I see. Well, you don’t have to warn anyone right now. I know who I should avoid, and warning them will give me more ammo,” Cindy giggles.

“Seonghwa-ssi, Hongjoong-ssi said something about covering expenses?” interrupts the manager.

“Yes, Cindy and Kat will miss their flight home. I agreed to cover their change-of-flight expenses. I will also cover their meals, transportation to LAX, and their stay in the hotel tonight,” says Seonghwa with a voice that tells everyone there is no other option.

“Very well,” the manager says. Reaching into his inner coat pocket, he pulls out a credit card and hands it to Cindy, “This is Seonghwa-ssi’s KQ expenses card. When you reach home, please return it to Mathew. If you two require anything between now and then, please purchase it with this card.”

“Seonghwa, you don’t have to. It’s fine. We can stay with relatives and take care of ourselves. Just helping with the tickets is sufficient,” Cindy says, taken back by the offer.

“It’s not that you can, Miss Cindy. It’s because I want to care for those who care for Y/n. It’s the least I can do in thanks to you being here,” pleads Seonghwa with almost puppy eyes.

“Did anyone ever tell you that you are hard to say no to?” questions Cindy with a smirk. Seonghwa laughs. “Fine. Thank you for the expense card. I will also save any receipts. Let me get you the flight information.”

Seeing that Cindy has finally agreed to everything, Seonghwa nods to both of them and enters the conference room. He sees that his bonded mates have sat to the far side of the room, allowing you to have unblocked access to the doors.

Kat is sitting at your side, having accepted cookies and water. Reaching out with his ability, Hwa can feel that you are calmer. Your skin has taken on a healthier hue. Your form also seems more relaxed as you converse quietly with your friend.

Hwa decides to walk over to the refreshment table to get water for himself and stand leaning against the wall. He wants to sit next to you. In all honesty, he wants you to sit in his lap but doesn’t want to crowd you like that.

It isn’t long before Cindy and the manager walk in and sit around the table. What shocks Hwa is Cindy’s choice to sit next to Kat and not on your other side. Cindy raises her eyebrow at Seonghwa and tilts her head towards the chair with a soft smile, which makes Hwa blush slightly.

Taking the hint, Seonghwa sits in the chair beside you, and the room becomes quiet. You look around the room, seemingly taking in everyone here– Ateez, the staff, and your friends, but you still say nothing.

“I guess I will start,” Hongjoong said, leaning forward in his seat at the head of the conference room. All eyes turned to him. “Miss Y/n, Miss Cindy, and Miss Kat, I am sure you know by now that we are Ateez, but many don’t know that we are a bonded soulmate group.”

“We each have abilities but haven’t gained our completion mark. About two years ago, we had all discussed that we most likely would never find all of our soulmates and become a complete bond. However, we know now that that isn’t the case,” informs Hongjoong as his eyes never stray from you.

You look at the captain like he should have more to say for a few moments before they watch you glance around the room again. Your emotions start to rise in trepidation. Seonghwa quickly looks between you and Jongho.

Jongho sees his companion’s movements and sends out a sense of calmness. To the rest of the soulmates, this feels like a blanket covering them in cool comfort.

“You…Okay… How…” you seem to be at a loss of words.

Kat shakes her head. Taking your hand, she speaks for you, asking, “Are you suggesting that Y/n is your missing soulmate?”

“Yes,” declares Hongjoong.

“Ladies,” Seonghwa starts. “We think you, y/n, are our missing soulmate for several reasons. It’s my fault that we didn’t connect with you sooner.”

Turning to face him, you interrupt, asking, “What do you mean sooner? What reasons? Why me? I am no one.”

“That won’t do,” speaks up Mingi with a growl. “You are not nor will you ever be a ‘no one,’ Y/n. Please do not speak of yourself so negatively. Let Hwa explain further; maybe you will understand what is happening.”

As you look down at your lap, everyone can see your cheeks have been painted rosy pink. Cindy and Kat find humor in your reaction to Mingi and snicker. If Hwa weren’t sitting next to you, he would have missed you smack Kat on the leg in protest.

Over the next almost hour, Seonghwa explains everything from the forming of Ateez to the events during their filming while in California for Coachella and ending with the concert. Another bonded mate would jump in to clarify or add information a few times.

“So once San could pin you at the museum, we couldn’t miss you again. It would have broken us more than we could ever explain,” finishes Hwa.

The boys sit and wait, watching as you take in the information. It worries them because you never reacted to anything they said during the whole spiel. They would look to Jongho a few times, who just shook his head, indicating that he wasn’t the one dampening your reaction.

Cindy shifts in her seat before she says, “I want to make things clear for you and Y/n.” Taking a deep breath, Cindy looks to y/n, who slightly nods, then focuses back on her lap, still quite like a mouse.

Excited to learn something about you, the soulmates lean into their bond. One thing is for sure– they weren’t prepared for what Cindy had to tell them.

He did, didn’t he?

He said he was Choi San.

Choi San wants to talk to you. Wait, no. He said the nine of us wanted to talk.

“I... ah… have a plane to catch,” you stumble out. Your mind is still considerate of your friends, who were like family to you. You watch as confusion graces the mountain of a man in front of you.

A voice to your right asks, “You’re going on vacation now? Or going home?”

Following the voice, you look to see who it is, and with a whisper, you say, “Choi Jongho.”

When you recognize the youngest member of Ateez, a smile graces his face as he introduces himself: “Yes, sorry. I am Choi Jongho. It’s nice to meet you.”

You nod with wide eyes as your hands start to shake.

This isn’t real.

There is no way.

Looking to the left, you see none other than Kang Yeosang. You cannot believe how cute he is up close. You giggle to yourself, thinking of all the Tic Toks of Yeosang saying, ‘I’m not cute,’ flutter through your brain because nothing right now is making sense.

Words are not coming.

You think you are going crazy as the delulu is finally manifesting in hallucinations now.

Breathing is happening because it is autonomic.

“Oh good! You found her Sannie,” another voice joins as you look past Yeosang to see the twerk prince himself, Jung Wooyoung.

When he gets closer, you are enveloped with the scent you smelled in the Grammy Museum. “Christmas,” you murmur just above a whisper.

The playful member smiles broadly and bounces in place, “So you did catch my scent, pretty.”

“If she caught yours, then she must have felt my anchors,” the tallest man you have seen in a long time speaks up while holding his “twin.”

At this point, your breathing has turned shallow. Unconsciously, your body starts leaning into the body behind you. You are not trying to run, but your mind and body are unsure of what is happening, what to do, and what to say.

All you know is that you would be on the floor without the man at your back. Speaking of the man at your back, you shift slightly to get a better look at him, and it’s like the world stops.

That is Park Seonghwa… like THE Park Seonghwa. Mars. Hwaseong. Angry Bird. Mama Hwa.

Your bias.

The one where you have an unhealthy amount of concert photos focused on the handsome beauty from the concert less than 24 hours before.

“She hasn’t recognized us yet. I can’t help her. Hongjoong, I can’t,” Seonghwa says with a hint of desperation. His hands grip your arms, thumbs rubbing in circles across your bare skin, pulling you close.

It’s like the sea parts when San and Yeosang break the inner circle that has formed around you to allow Kim Hongjoong to join you in the center. His eyes are roaming your form. It’s like he is not looking at you but into you, at the who of who you are.

It’s an uncanny feeling that you start getting dizzy from.

“Do you know who I am?” questions the leader.

“Captain,” you answer with a shaky tone.

His eyes narrow as a smirk shows, “That is one of the many names Atiny uses, and it is my title. However, my soulmates don’t use that name unless we are in front of a camera. I am Kim Hongjoong, the second oldest of the Ateez soulmate bond.”

You swallow and rapidly look at the rest of the members. They each agree with nods or hums. This is new information for you. You, after all, are a new stan of Ateez, a baby Atiny, and figured there was so much that you didn’t know.

“Soulmate bond? A whole group bond?” you question, feeling your skin vibrate. To begin with, soulmate bonds were challenging to find, but having a group bond to this extent was rare.

Nodding, Hongjoong answers, “The group of us, yes, but I wouldn’t say we are whole yet. Boys…” It’s then that everyone is looking back on you.

You hear the song start back up in your head from before it takes over all other mental tabs you had open.

The scent of Christmas trees becomes a whole forest, almost too much.

The thick rope around your chest is back and tighter, pulling you to the left, but you struggle against it.

The panic ebbs and wanes within you like a riptide.

“No. No, nonononoo,” you say, pulling away from Seonghwa, causing the boys to step back out of reflex. Everything stops. Silence rings in your ears, all scent has vanished, and nothing is holding you to yourself, much less to Earth anymore.

Dropping to your knees, you mumble, “Something is wrong… must be dreaming.”

“Y/n!” a familiar female voice comes from somewhere. Your ears pop as your brain kicks back online, and the natural environment around you floods in. It’s too much all at once but not enough of what you need.

What is it that you need, though? Something is missing again. You paw at the ground, almost like you are looking for something or ensuring Earth is still below you. Your breathing rapidly increases as your vision starts to fade in and out.

You are having a panic attack.

Again.

The first panic attack you ever had was why you missed going to Coachella. You ate lunch at this little hole-in-the-wall diner you loved, but it made you sick. Then, the rest of that week, any time you went near it, it was like your body remembered being sick and would kick you into a panic attack like you had PTSD or something. So you avoided it altogether, which wasn’t hard because the area was shut off for filming.

During the first Coachella weekend, you still had a headache from everything. Your doctors also suggested avoiding large crowds or anything non-routine for a bit. You still were getting symptoms like hyperventilating, getting dizzy, and having chest pains. You swore it was like your insides were hollowing out. You ended up in the ER, and they said it was just a panic attack.

You had to deny helping with Coachella the second weekend, even with the bonus pay, because you were scared you would be more in the way than helpful, especially with this new panic attack issue. The medications they gave you weren’t helping much either.

“Y/n! Excuse me, not to be rude, but let me get to my friend before she passes out,” you hear another voice, but everything sounds like you are underwater.

The first voice sounds closer, saying, “Back off, or I will make you. I don’t care how famous you are.”

Joining you, kneeling on the parking garage floor, Cindy and Kat take their time speaking to you calmly. They coach you into breathing exercises, bringing you slowly out of the dark pit you had started to spiral into. Both knew about the panic attacks, and Kat had them as well. Kat was a fantastic source of advice when you first got the diagnosis.

Seeing that you were improving, Cindy stood and looked at the members of Ateez plus the gathering crowd. Turning to Hongjoong, she says, “I don’t know what your intention is with Y/n, but remaining here will just make her worse.”

“I would agree. We need to talk to her, but I am afraid that she won’t hear what we are saying in her current state of mind,” says Hongjoong, his eyes never leaving you.

One of the men dressed in all-black suits steps away from the human barricade that has formed around the eleven of you and says, “Sir, we have access to the conference room at the hotel if you wish to move there.”

“Thank you.” Hongjoong breaks his gaze on you to talk to Cindy, offering, “We are staying at the hotel right around the corner. Maybe we can all talk there; I am sure she will need someone familiar with her right now.”

“What about our flight?” questions Kat, still grounding you in their arms.

“That’s right. She mentioned she had a flight to catch. Do you three not live here?” San questioned.

The feisty friend answered, “Kat and I don’t live here anymore. We live in Oregon. Y/n lives here. We have a flight in about 4 hours to return home.”

“Excuse me, Miss.” Seonghwa politely gains Cindy’s attention. “We really must speak with your friend. Our manager will help you change your flight, and I will personally cover any fees or additional costs if you would come with us. Please?”

Cindy and Kat share an unspoken conversation. Finally, Cindy turns to Seonghwa, “Fine. BUT! We are not doing this because of who you are. You are requesting this meeting. You are causing whatever is happening to Y/n to happen. You will fix it. Understood?”

Nodding and smiling, Seonghwa agrees, “Of course, Miss. We take full responsibility for anything that happens with Y/n moving forward.”

“How many cars did you come in, Miss?” asks Jongho.

They point out the rental car just a few feet away. “We were already getting in the car when you surrounded our friend. My name is Cindy, by the way. That is Kat, my only child. Y/n has been a family friend and a second child to me for almost 15 years.”

“Thank you, Miss Cindy and Miss Kat. I promise we will explain everything in the conference room,” Seonghwa says with another toothy smile. “Can I ride with you to the hotel? I can show you where to park, or you can follow the vans.”

“Hwa…” Jongho says softly but seems to stop at the pleading look he gets from Seonghwa. “Hwa is the best choice right now to accompany Y/n. It wouldn’t be wise to leave her unattended.”

Cindy’s eyes narrow at the choice of wording. Her mind is trying to piece together what is going on. “Fine. You can go with us,” she relents suspiciously, looking at Seonghwa. “It’s a small car. You will have to sit in the front.”

“It’s settled. Hwa will go with you. The rest of us will go in the van,” Hongjoong says, pointing to the blacked-out vehicles. “The guards will be in the cars. When you pull out, Miss Cindy, it would be a good idea to follow between our van and the last guard car.”

“You got it, Captain,” says Cindy.

With a hovering Seonghwa, Kat helps you stand and takes you to the car. She tries to get you to laugh by telling you that MamaHwa is looking at her with puppy eyes. You can only concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other right now.

Once in the car, you still feel a softer pull on your chest. It is nowhere near what it was before or while Ateez surrounded you, but it was still there.

Kat sits as a quiet reminder that this is real. You keep your eyes downcast because you can feel Seonghwa’s eyes on you, and you are nervous about looking at him.

On the other hand, Cindy can’t stand the tension in the car. “So Seonghwa, you have connected to her, haven’t you?”

Not looking away from you, he answers, “You could say that, but I would prefer to discuss that with everyone together.”

“You still have a concert tonight. This meeting is going to have to be a quick one. I am not sure she will be able to process everything as quickly as you want her to,” comments Cindy. “She keeps herself guarded. I guess it is good that there are eight of you then.”

“We will all be there for her. As I said before, she is our responsibility from now on,” says the man sitting in the front seat, as if the world had just given him a significant gift wrapped in the most complex box he had ever seen.

Soon, you feel the car stop moving, automatically prompting you to unbuckle your seatbelt. Your door opens before you can get it, and a hand appears. You glance up to see that it is San. You feel your body want to move to him, almost as if he was a magnet.

You hear your mom in your head say, “Following your instincts, Y/n. It is your greatest gift.” With this in mind, you place your hand in his. The second you connect with him, the song in your head becomes clearer but softens, granting your mind a chance to relax.

Once out of the car, you look around, noting that everyone else has also gotten out, and Seonghwa is now standing next to you. The two men walk you into the building and guide the small group to the conference room.

At the door, they were greeted by Hongjoong, their manager, and the head of their bodyguards. Seeing the leader again sends shivers down your spine, but nothing happens.

Hongjoong instructs, “Please make your way inside. The boys have set up some refreshments. Hwa and Cindy, I believe the two of you need to speak with manager-nim to figure out the flight situation, and then you can join us.”

When you enter the small conference room with Kat, San, and Hongjoong, the feeling in your chest almost completely disappears. You can’t help but smile a little at the looks of anticipation and worry that grace the faces of one of the most popular K-pop groups you have ever known.

“You can go ahead and sit here,” offers Yunho as he pulls out the chair in front of you. “We figured it may be the most comfortable spot for you. Your friends can sit next to you as well.”

You nod and smile at their consideration of not trapping you in the room. They don’t know that you aren’t one to run when you freak out, but their actions bring their own sense of security and trust.

A water bottle appears next to you as someone opens it and sets it down. Looking up, you see Wooyoung smiling, “Please drink some water. We also have cookies, candies, and brownies for you to eat, or we can order anything you like.”

“Thank you,” you say softly. “I could go for a cookie. Anything without oats or cocoa, please.”

Hongjoong is the closest to the platter of cookies and plates up two peanut butter, two white chocolate chip macadamia nuts, and two Snickerdoodle cookies. He brings them over with napkins and places them between you and Kat.

“I put two of everything on the plate for you and Kat. These are all the non-cocoa-based cookies over there. I hope there is something you like in the bunch,” he says.

You glance at Kat, who is smiling from ear to ear because their bias just served them cookies. You shake your head, grab a white chocolate chip macadamia nut cookie, and start eating it as someone else walks in and takes up a corner to lean against.

Kat giggles and tells the man of their K-pop dreams: “For someone who knows nothing about Y/n, you sure know how to find her favorites.”

Kat then took one of the peanut butter ones to eat, and Hongjoong smirked with confidence and sat at the head of the table.

Leaning towards Kat, you ask, “Where is Cindy and Seonghwa?”

“They are outside dealing with the flight situation,” informs Kat, leaning closer to you. “How are you doing?”

“I feel like I entered a Twilight Zone episode,” you breathe out, taking another bite of the cookie and glancing at the men in the room. Some of them catch your eyes while they are talking amongst themselves. “This is real, right?”

“Umhumm, you have the dream of almost every Atiny in the world. You have caught the attention of Ateez,” smirks Kat.

“I don’t want Ateez's attention,” you whisper. “I will bring them nothing good.”

Kat stares at you, “Y/n. Be real yourself right now. Just wait to see what they have to say.”

You go to respond but hear the door of the conference room open, and Seonghwa enters, walking to the table with the snacks. What surprises you is the fact that he stays there. You look at Kat with furrowed brows and then back at Seonghwa.

“Why is he over there?” you question in hushed tones. It was really meant just to be for yourself, but loud enough, Kat hears and chokes a little on their water.

“Is someone getting attached to their bias?” says Kat teasingly.

“Oh, hush you,” you try not to blush at the comment. “He wouldn’t stop looking at me in the car and, well, you were there! Why the distance now?”

“Don’ know, maybe he is giving the others a chance to get close,” suggests Kat.

It isn’t long before Cindy and the manager walk in and sit around the table. Cindy sits next to Kat, and the manager sits next to Hongjoong. Once the room starts to settle, Seonghwa sits in the chair beside you, and the room becomes quiet.

You look around the room, seemingly taking in everyone here– Ateez, the staff, and your friends, but you still say nothing.

“I guess I will start.” Hongjoong leans forward as all eyes turn to him. “Miss Y/n, Miss Cindy, and Miss Kat, I am sure you know by now that we are Ateez, but many don’t know that we are a bonded soulmate group.”

You look at the captain like he should have more to say for a few moments before you glance around the room again, waiting for someone else to chime in. Your mind is reeling with several possibilities and a barrage of negative conclusions.

You are on the verge of spiraling again when it feels like a blanket of comfort covers you. It’s a coolness to your skin but a stillness of your mind that you can’t help leaning into.

“You…Okay… How…” you attempt to say, but you are at a loss. You have questions to ask and things to say that all want to come out at once, but you can’t seem to organize them in a way that makes sense.

Taking your hand, Kat shakes her head, asking, “Are you suggesting that Y/n is your missing soulmate?”

“Yes,” declares Hongjoong.

Your heart shudders at the declaration. There has to be something else. There has to be another thing it could be. You glance at Kat as they give you that look again, the one that says to wait and see what they have to say.

“Ladies,” Seonghwa starts. “We think you, y/n, are our missing soulmate for several reasons. It’s my fault that we didn’t connect with you sooner.”

You turn to face him. Your thoughts finally in an order you interrupt, asking, “What do you mean sooner? What reasons? Why me? I am no one.”

“That won’t do,” Mingi's deep voice says. “You are not nor will you ever be a ‘no one,’ Y/n. Please do not speak of yourself so negatively. Let Hwa explain further; maybe you will understand what is happening.”

Feeling like you just got scolded by one of the hottest rappers in the world, you look down at your lap, attempting to hide the blush from the room. It isn’t the first time you have been told that you do not hold yourself in a good light, but hearing it from him brings on a new form of embarrassment.

Cindy and Kat start snickering at your reaction to Mingi, and you smack Kat on the leg in protest. They know of your newfound attraction to the second-tallest member and are seemingly more at ease with this situation than you are.

“So once San could pin you at the museum, we couldn’t miss you again. It would have broken us more than we could ever explain,” finishes Hwa.

You force yourself not to react to anything they say or interrupt during the whole spiel. About halfway through the information dump, the blanket pulls away, but you can maintain yourself just fine.

You have put together that your panic attacks started because you almost met Seonghwa at the hole-in-the-wall diner. Then you had the chance to meet them all at Coachella twice. You also could have met them walking around town while they were filming. So many missed chances to meet them.

Cindy shifts in her seat before she says, “I want to make things clear for you and Y/n.” Taking a deep breath, Cindy looks at you. You know what she wants to say, and she isn’t wrong to tell them because if they don’t hear it now, then they won’t understand.

You hesitantly nod, then focus back on your lap, remaining quiet as you prepare your mind for rejection, yelling, coarse words, and any other harsh reaction they had every right to have. You didn’t see the looks of anticipation on their faces.

Kat takes your hands in theirs and nods to Cindy, knowing the next part of the meeting won’t be easy.

With a serious look, Cindy meets each of their eyes before she stops at Seonghwa and says, “Y/n…Y/n’s soulmate was murdered June 15, 2016– on her 18th birthday.”

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