#song fic series

[forgedroyalseal]

Song Fic Drabbles Part 2

Give you my wild, give you a child:

For as long as she could remember, Cassandra knew she’d be expected to marry and produce an heir. And for just as long, she resented it. She fought with her governesses every time they told her to sit like a lady, or to smile rather than speak. She’d shout at her father whenever he’d mention the handsome young son of some noble. She would run through the woods and welcome the muddy shoes and grass stains. She practiced with her sling every chance she got, regardless of the consequences. She held tight to her freedom, knowing that it had an execution date.

And then she met Horace.

It was not love at first sight. If nothing else is certain, that is. She was too young, too traumatized, too wild, to fall head over heels. And after everything that happened in Skandia, a part of her heart would always belong to Will, even if that part evolved from a girlhood crush to an everlasting friendship that held far more value. But slowly, her bond with Horace grew. She found herself seeking him out for comfort after an argument with her father or a particularly brutal nightmare. As he climbed up the ranks, a deep respect formed for him. She watched him mature from a careless boy to a sure and noble man. He was steadfast and patient, and he kept her balanced when her temper flared. He was a calm to her storm.

The next time her father mentioned the future that had been written out centuries before her brith, she didn’t immediately snarl and growl and fight. Because for the first time, she could imagine it. She could see herself on the throne. She could see herself at court, fitting in among all the other ladies. She could picture a handsome prince-consort beside her, holding her hand, lending his strength when she needed it. She could picture a child with wild blonde hair and rosy cheeks. But more vivid than anything, she could picture Horace at her side. In fact, the one think she couldn’t envision, was a future without him.

[wonustars]

𝘋𝘰𝘯𝘵 𝘔𝘰𝘷𝘦, 𝘏𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘺

Soobin vers. | Beomgyu vers.

txt as 5sos songs: you look so perfect.

Summary: yeonjun is a well known, attractive, and respected. you two are total opposites. the last thing that you would expect is for him to take interest in you. first meeting you at a coffee shop, he beomes a regular. constantly coming back to visit, but not just for the iced americanos.

Reposts are always appreciated/encouraged!! Tumblr works on reblogs not likes, Thank you for your support :)

Tags: nonidol!yj, popular!yj, campuscrush!yj, shy!asocial!reader, total opposites, opposites attract, yeonjun is so sweet and gives lots of reassurance, reader is a little angsty but still a lovely mc!

SMUT! MDNI 18+ only!

Warnings: dom!yeonjun, sub!reader, afab!reader, virgin!reader, unprotected sex, oral (f. receiving), fingering, mating press, creampie, bigdick!yeonjun,this one is more on the vanilla side.

Word count: 5k words

Note: this story contains smut so minors pls DNI! I mean it, if I see you interacting i will be blocking you. hellowwww!! a lot of people really liked the preview so, heres the full thing hehe. i like half assed with the proof read so let me know if i've missed any typos, tags or warnings!! my lovely Taehyun will be after this one :)

happy reading ~

All your life you had been the one in the shadows. There are no major plot points or no “y/n moments” that people would use to describe Wattpad-like events. You weren’t upset about this though, the life you live is content, happy enough. 

A normal day-to-day for you consists only of two things, school, and working at the cafe across campus. Your life isn’t appealing to others, but you like how quiet it is. A quiet life with no disturbances, no drama, and no feelings of stress. It's a peculiar feeling to want something that seems so lonely.

The last time you witnessed a major disturbance in your life had to be the event that took place within the confines of your part-time job. Two men were trying to win the heart of a girl. Two attractive men at that. The whole time the three were quarrelling you wondered what it would feel like knowing someone wanted you that bad, that they would fight someone else to have you. 

It left an odd taste in your mouth, and a stinging feeling behind your eyes. 

“Hey… are you guys still taking orders?” a voice brings you out of your internal tangent. You perk up from the relaxed position you were in. Shamefully, you nod. Not wanting to make eye contact you head towards the register. 

“What can I get for you?” you ask, eyes trained on the ordering screen. 

“A large iced americano please, that’s all.” 

“And the name of the order?” you ask, a stupid question. No one else was in the cafe except you and this random guy. The music feels louder than it usually does, the embarrassment causes your ears to turn red. 

“Yeonjun.” 

..̇·𓏲 would you wanna run away too?

Yeonjun found himself coming to the cafe across campus more often now. The girl behind the counter piqued his interest, more than anyone he’s ever come across before. The energy you gave off, the fact that you were so shy? He couldn’t get you out of his head. So much so that he caught himself visiting you for his iced americano at least once a day. 

Yeonjun was never on the shy side, he had always been popular at school, living a life filled with social interaction. Everyone at school always adored him, not only for his looks but his charming personality. Which only made the fact that not being able to talk to you is a weird, new feeling for him. 

As much as he wanted to talk to you, he just didn’t know what to say. Where to start, how the conversation should come about. He was overthinking, and he also felt like it was wrong to only visit the cafe as an excuse to see you, like a stalker, although this is just some innocent crush. 

“A large iced americano please,” Yeonjun asks, giving you his sweetest smile. You glance up at him and give a slight nod. He has been coming to the cafe more often lately, you weren’t sure why but you weren’t complaining. A handsome customer becoming a regular was something that caused you to look forward to your shifts. 

“Is that all?” you ask, looking up to glance at his features again. Fuck he was so attractive. 

“Actually, there’s something else I wanted to ask.” Yeonjun declares, his face covered with a layer of determination. You don’t say anything, the feeling of anticipation bubbling in your stomach. “Can I also get your number?” 

Your eyes almost fell out of their sockets. Not in a million years could you have predicted that the handsome regular would ask for your number. 

“U-um yeah sure it’s  _” you're stuttering, no one ever asked for your number before. Is this the “y/n moment” so many people on the internet talk about? 

..̇·𓏲 you look so perfect standing there

As soon as you get home from your shift a notification lights up your screen. It was a foreign feeling to see your phone light up from a notification, let alone a message. Of course, you had friends, but they preferred to hang out in person rather than text. 

You already knew who it could be from, your cheeks heating up at the thought, and possibilities of what this notification might contain. Getting ready for bed quickly, you envelope yourself in your comforter. The light from your phone screen lights up your dark room. 

unknown number: hey, is this y/n? its yeonjun. from the cafe. 

you: Yes this is y/n :) 

yeonjun: hi! you got home safely, im glad. 

you: Yes I did, and so did you. I’m also glad. 

yeonjun: lol ya i hope i didn’t come off too strong earlier. i just want to get to know you more. 

you: No you didn’t, Its ok. I didn’t think you would even want my number. It was kind of a surprise. 

yeonjun: what ofc i would want your number, i think you’re really pretty. and you make good americanos

you: Thank you, it just wasn’t what i was expecting. Americanos arent rocket science tho, its literally water and espresso lol 

yeonjun: yeah ik but they taste so much better when you make them :)

It’s only been a few minutes since you and Yeonjun started talking over text, but your face has already turned into a deep shade of crimson. Throwing your phone across your bed, you shove your face into your pillow letting out a scream. The sound of your feet hitting your bed as you kick them and giggle like a mad woman. As you come back to your senses, you quickly remember that you have yet to reply. 

you: You flatter me Yj, you should keep coming back for them if you like them so much. 

yeonjun: yj? even my nickname sounds sweeter coming from you, but the Americanos weren’t the only thing i was coming back for. 

The smile on your face hurts your cheeks. Never has anyone made you feel like Yeonjun did as he texted you. The blatant flirting and numerous compliments realized how much you were missing out on while living your mundane student life. 

It had only been a few hours of texting each other back and forth, but you started to grow fond of the person Yeonjun is. He’s so handsome, not just in the face, but also with the way he carried himself. The impression he gives off is insanely attractive. The way he made you feel wanted, liked, and cherished over the simplest things reeled you in. 

..̇·𓏲 your lipstick stain is a work of art 

It’s been a few weeks since you and Yeonjun started talking but it has started to become a part of your daily routine. You’ve become accustomed to the many good morning and goodnight texts, the late night Facetime calls, and the blatant flirting from Yeonjun. 

He still comes into the cafe daily to grab his iced americano which you look forward to every shift. 

“Hey y/n!” a voice coming from the entrance grabs your attention. 

You’re working the lunch rush and have been trying to restock the pastries in the glass display. To your dismay they weren’t cooperating with you, leaving you frustrated and tired. A sigh of defeat leaves your lips and you turn your head over to the person calling your name. 

It’s him. The one person who makes your whole shift a little better. He looked so good walking through the door. His dark blue hair appeared more vibrant than usual, and the sun was hitting his face in the most heavenly way. Your heart was pumping hard, the flow of blood running to your ears and cheeks. 

Yeonjun walks up to you, and you notice someone following close behind him. Your eyes shift between the two of them. Assuming thoughts filling your head quickly. 

She is really pretty, you thought. 

They walk up to the counter together, laughing about something amongst themselves. It made your heart sink to the floor. The feeling in itself made you want to throw up. 

Quickly, you push it aside. You were not wanting your feelings to get in the way of your professionalism, especially at work. 

“Oh, hey Yeonjun and friend. What can I get for you guys?” you ask, smiling a little too hard, trying hard to act normal.

“Two americanos pleasee,” he answers, prolonging the ‘please’ with a little pout. If not for your current situation you would’ve found Yeonjun adorable. Your heart can only feel a stinging sensation at the view of the two in front of you. 

“Sounds good. They’ll be at the end of the counter for you guys,” you mumbled, not really making eye contact with Yeonjun. 

He senses your change in mood but didn’t want to make a fuss with a line slowly forming behind him. It’s the lunch rush after all, so he brushes it off for the time being. Leaving you to work, making a mental note to ask you about it when you’re off. 

..̇·𓏲 got your name tattooed in an arrow heart

Your shift felt longer than usual, probably due to the fact that you couldn’t get Yeonjun off your mind. The feeling in your chest still hasn’t subsided. Who are you to feel jealous about him hanging around other girls? Especially knowing that the two of you aren’t even together. With that tidbit of information circling your mind, you felt even more guilt for letting jealousy get the better of you. 

Not bothering to even check your phone, you focus on getting home quickly, wanting to take a shower as soon as you got back. Walking down the sidewalk your legs felt like jelly, thankfully you didn’t live that far from work. It was already past sunset and the light summer breeze whistled with every step you took. Five minutes and you’re already standing in front of your building. A sigh of relief leaves your lips as you stare up at the brown bricks towering over you, imagining your bed and the comfort it brings you. 

As you come closer to your building you see a figure leaning against the wall near the entrance. Your senses are heightened considering there usually aren’t many suspicious people who tend to hang around your building. The distance between you and this stranger has gotten smaller, revealing their identity. All the while your heart drops once again, but in relief. 

“Y/n! Hey sorry if I freaked you out. You weren’t answering my texts I thought something bad happened to you.” Yeonjun explained, coming closer to you. His scent fills your senses, calming you down in just a blink of an eye. Thank god it was just him and not some stalker. 

“Hi Junnie, sorry I didn’t answer you. I didn’t check my phone after I got off. How do you know where I live?” You asked, raising an eyebrow at him, pretending to be suspicious of his actions. Your arms are crossed as you face towards him, his eyes are round as a globe. 

“U-uh sorry if I seem like a creep y/n-” he chuckles nervously as he scratches the back of his head “-I asked one of your friends because you usually shoot me text when you’re off work.” 

“Oh ok, and no I don’t think your creepy. We’ve known eachother long enough to know these types of things anyways.” You comfort him, patting his back as you tilt your head towards the entrance. Silently asking if he wanted to come upstairs with you. 

As if it didn’t exist in the first place, the feeling of jealousy brewing in your stomach disappeared. The only thing left was the warmth Yeonjun brought you, even though your relationship has been undefined. Unlabelled. He felt like a new world you had yet to explore. New experiences that you’re waiting to try. Although he was popular, especially with the women around campus, he was a total green flag. 

Yeonjun nods his head, giving you his signature heart stopper smile as you lead him up to your apartment.

The familiar air of the building envelopes you, both of your footsteps echoing as you slowly ascend up the stairs. It wasn’t too long of a trip since you live on the second floor. 

A warm hand intertwines with yours, causing the hair on your arms to stand. The chills running through your body like an electric shock. If you weren’t quick enough, you would’ve tripped on the next step; taking Yeonjun down with you. But you relax, squeezing his hand reassuringly as you allow him to continue to follow you. 

What felt like an eternity, was in reality only a minute or two. You and Yeonjun finally made it up to the front door of your home. Your hands staying intertwined even when you fetch your keys from the bottom of your bag. As you unlock the door, your shoulders instantly relax. This is what you’ve been dreaming of since the moment you clocked into work. 

“Well, this is me.” you turn to him, shyly smiling. It wasn’t much but you were happy here. 

He chuckles. “Its cute. It suits your vibe.” 

You can’t help but smile as you continue to drag him through the rest of your living space. He follows you obediently, taking in everything little by little. The whole place felt warm, cozy, familiar. Which is exactly how Yeonjun feels about you. 

“Im gonna take a shower and change. You can watch something while you wait if you’d like.” You beam up at him with his hand still glued to yours, both sets of eyes twinkling against the ambient lighting. In this specific lighting you found Yeonjun to be so pretty. The dim lighting accentuating his features; the pink tint to his lips, the sharpness of his nose, the admiration in his eyes. 

Distracted by your beauty, Yeonjun can only smile and nod. 

..̇·𓏲 dont move, honey

As you leave your room, you see Yeonjun sitting on your couch. Looks like he’s made himself at home, you thought. Giggling quietly to yourself, you close the door shut. The sound causing Yeonjun to move his eyes over to you. His eyes are stuck on your figure, he didn’t expect you to walk out in such little clothing. The lump in his throat gets harder to swallow as you make your way to him. 

Your definition of comfortable clothing is a oversized shirt and some sleep shorts. Yeonjun doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t want to be rude and keep staring but he just can’t tear his eyes off you. The way your wet hair is causing your shirt to dampen; giving a sneak peak at your breasts. Or the factt that your shorts barely covered any part of you, it almost looked like you weren’t wearing any at all. God, he felt like a pervert, you looked so good he couldn’t help but feel-

“Whatcha watching?” you inquire, sitting down beside him, dangerously close. 

“Hmm just some random youtube video I stumbled upon.” he shrugs, trying to look non-chalant, but in reality, he was screaming at himself for being so turned on right now. 

“Oh ok.” You turn your attention towards the TV, your body stiff as you think about the proximity between you and Yeonjun right now. It’s the frist time he’s been over, and it’s also the first time you’ve spent alone time in person. At this moment you can only wonder if he feels the same way you do. 

With that thought, the memory of the girl who accompanied him to the cafe ressurfaces. You wonder if she was something more to him, of if they are just friends. Silently you pray its the latter. The feelings you’ve grown for Yeonjun seems to strengthen with everyday and night that you two talk. Although its a sad thought, he has every right to talk to other people; especially since neither of you stated that you would be exclusive. You aren’t really an expert in these types of situations anyways. 

Ever since you were young, the only relationships you’ve experienced were through media or reading. Some of your friends would tell you about their dating experiences, but you had no stories of your own to share. You were never as outgoing as they were, and you also didn’t like the idea of going out as often as they did. Funnily enough you still ended up in a job where you had to talk to strangers. All of that had lead you to believe that you were better off living the single life, as sad as it sounds; it was true for a good portion of your life. 

Until Yeonjun. 

“H-hey can I ask you something?” you turn over to face your body towards Yeonjun, your eyes flashing with clear nervousness. He pauses the video turning towards you with curious eyes. 

“Yeah of course, anything.” He smiles at you, his hand patting your bare thigh reassuringly. The action causing your cheeks heat up almost instantly. 

“Who was that girl you were with earlier? I know it’s not my place to ask considering we’re just friends but I’ve been thinking about it all day. Obviously if you’re not comfy you do-,” He cuts you off, a giggle leaving his lips. 

“Shes just a friend. She’s dating Soobin so you don’t need to worry.” he reassures, his hand coming back to your thigh again, squeezing it lightly, but this time he keeps it there. Your heartbeat is now in your throat as you look down at his hand. The veins running along his arms were prominent; the fact that his whole hand could grip more than half your thigh caused an unfamiliar heat to flow down to your lower body. 

“O-oh, ok just pretend I didn’t ask that then,” you mumble, your eyes still focused on the way he was no rubbing your thigh. It felt good to experience this type of skinship with him, even if it wasn’t all that much. It still has you stumbling over your words. 

“I thought you knew I liked you already y/n. I thought you knew from the moment I asked for your number.” he whispered, his face coming closer to yours. 

Your breath hitched not being able to move your eyes away from his lips. 

“U-um I didn’t know. No ones ever shown interest in me.” you confess, your head now turned down towards your hands as you play with them nervously. 

“Thats ok baby, I’m interested in you. I like you.” Yeonjun states firmly. His finger carefully placed under your chin, forcing your gaze to meet his. The look in his eyes sent a chill down your spine. This is the first time you’ve seen Yeonjun look so serious. You couldn’t help but gulp. 

“I like you too Junnie.” you whisper, your eyes locked on his. Smiling, Yeonjun strokes your cheek with his thumb. The warmth of his hand still burning onto your thigh. 

“Fuck y/n It’s so hard for me to hold back when you call me that.” His tone is low. Staring at your lips, he begins to trace their outline. 

“What? Junnie?” you provoke, matching his tone. A groan almost leaves his lips but instead his grip on your thigh only tightens. 

“May I kiss you y/n?” Yeonjun’s polite words are a stark contracts as to all the thoughts brewing in his head. You seem to have lost your voice, only nodding as you slowly try to close the gap. 

With Yeonjun’s lips on yours he grips your waist pulling you onto his lap in a swift motion. You can’t help but yelp at how easily he can move you around. It was like you were his own personal ragdoll. Wrapping your arms around his neck, he deepens the kiss.

This is your first time kissing someone but you’re glad your first is Yeonjun. Not only do you have feelings for him, but he tasted so good. It felt so wrong but right at the exact same time. 

The two of you continue to kiss passionately, and you feel yourself naturally move with the flow. Your hips starting to move back and forth slightly as Yeonjun guides you with his large hands. A tiny gasp escapes your lips as you feel something hard rub against your core. Although this was all new to you, it was like you already knew what to do. Yeonjun takes the opportunity to allow his tongue to enter your mouth. This surprises you, pulling away you say,

“Junnie I-i’ve never done anything like this before.” you squeaked, burying your face into his neck. He rubs his hands up and down the sides of your thighs, soothing you. 

“Thats alright princess, I can show you how. Will you let me?” he asks, his hands moving to take your face away from the space between his shoulder and neck. Brushing the hair out of your face, he tucks the strands behind your ear. The action in itself can only cause your cheeks to burn a deep red. Everything Yeonjun did always had you feeling like the most cherished girl in the world. You can only nod as his actions have left you speechless. 

“With your words princess.” he demands, a hand snakes down to your hips giving you an encouraging squeeze. 

“Yes Junnie, please show me how,” you murmur. Steadily, you move closer to him wanting to close the gap between you two again. You want to feel the same way you did when your bodies were pressed up against eachother. 

“Alright darling, just let me know if it gets too much for you ok? I’ll only go as far as you let me.” 

“Yes Junnie.”

“Good girl.” his hands are back on your hips, his lips back on yours. The wet sounds coming from both your mouths have you riled up. Yeonjuns back to moving your hips back and forth, desperately wanting to increase the friction. The sensation of his hard dick rubbing against you was addicting. Your thin shorts not really leaving anything up to imagination. 

Yeonjun can only groan, the feeling of your warm cunt against his cock is driving his crazy. He can only wonder how it must feel to be inside you. 

“F-feel’s good Jun.” you moan into the kiss, your hips now moving on their own accord. 

“You like that princess?” he chuckles, peppering kisses along your neck and collarbone, leaving love bites in his tracks. Slowly his hands creep up under your shirt. It lifts ups as his hands move higher. They almost hit your bare breasts, but before he proceeds he looks up to you for approval. You can only nod, dazed from all your senses going into overdrive. 

Yeonjun doesn’t waste any time and removes your shirt. You’re left bare in front of him, the blush on your cheeks still noticeable in the dim lighting. 

“You’re beautiful love,” he assures, going back to his ministrations. Kissing up and down your neck until he reaches your breasts. He takes one in his hand and the other one in his mouth. You can only moan, your head lolling back from the pleasure. Hands gripping onto his hair for some type of balance. 

Yeonjun is rock hard under you, the pulse in his dick only getting more noticable the more he pleasures you. He wants to show you how much he wants you, to show you how much you deserved to be cherished. 

Tongue swirling around your nipple, your moans become less shy, the feeling of being pleasured taking over you. Yeonjuns mouth moving onto the other nipple as he picks you up. You yelp from the sudden movement but wrap your legs around his waist anyways. 

His feet padding towards your bedroom, he opens the door. Gently he places you on your mattress, situating himself between your legs.

“Are you still doing ok over there sweetheart?” he inquires. 

“Really ok Junnie, please keep going. Want more.” you whimper, your elbows stablizing you as you get a good view of him. He begins to remove your shorts, your pussy glistening from how wet he’s gotten you. A groan bubbles up in Yeonjuns throat; just looking at you in this light could make him cum. 

He makes himself comfortable with his head between your thighs. Taking things slow, he uses one finger to play with your entrance. Rubbing you all over, collecting your wetness before he finally pushes a finger in. 

You moan, your elbows collapsing from the pleasure. You grip your sheets as he pumps his finger in and out of you. The lewd sounds of your soaking core bouncing off the walls. After a few more pumps he adds in another finger, the stretch burning so good.

He looks up at you to see you whimpering for him, his name leaving your mouth in what sounded like a sweet melody. The way your brows scrunch with his every moves turns him on even more. Watching you coming undone on his fingers is a sight he wants to see everyday if he could.

“Let me taste you baby.” Yeonjun says with a deep tone to his voice. Every word coming out of his mouth is dripping with lust. With that warning he places a kiss on your clit, your hands moving from your sheets to grip his hair. He continues to kitten lick and suck on your sensitive bud, the pleasure sending you to another universe. 

“O-oh Junnie, it feels so good.” you squeak out. He places your legs over his shoulders, delving into you more. He’s properly eating you out now, his fingers pumping in and out of your wet heat while licking you all at the same time. As he goes on, an unfamiliar feeling starts to brew in your stomach; growing stronger as more time passed. 

“I can feel your pussy gripping my fingers baby, cum for me. I know you can do it, just let go.” Yeonjun purrs, his words of encouragement is your last straw before your orgasm. 

“Good girl, so good for me. You’re doing so well my love.” he’s praising you as he moves back up to your face. Hes smirking at you as he hovers over your naked body. His own body still in between your legs, the lower half of his face glistening with your juices. 

“Can I fuck you princess?” he asks.

The vulgar words spewing from his mouth, the way he asks so nicely, the way he calls you such sweet names; the polarity of it all gives you whiplash. 

“Yes please, wanna feel you inside me.” you mumble and you press kissing all along his face, moving down towards his neck. You found it so attractive how he always asks for your consent. 

He quickly undresses, both your clothes randomly thrown around the room. Situating himself between your legs once again, he sits himself on his heels. Pumping his length a few times he then rubs the tip up and down your slit, collecting your juices. The squelching sound of your lips rubbing against his him is like music to his ears. 

Yeonjun finally enters you, causing your back to arch with every inch he slowly puts in. You’ve only heard about sex through friends, but being able to experience it yourself is on another level. The stretch of his cock pushing inside you stings more than when he was fucking you with his fingers. 

“Mmm Junnie I think you’re too big,” you whimper while hes pressing kisses all over your face to soothe you. 

“It’s ok love, it’ll feel better as it goes on ok?” Yeonjun groans, as he keeps pushing into you. He continues till hes dick is buried deep inside you. Stilling for a moment, he lets you get used to the feeling. The scrunched up look on your face begins to relax, giving him a signal to start thrusting into you. 

“Fuck baby you feel so good around me.” he whispers. 

At first hes slow, but the sound of your wet pussy getting fucked by his dick starts to fog his thoughts. Your moans increase in volume, his name falling off your lips repeatedly. 

“Junnie, hmmm it feels so good. Faster please.” you beg as your wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him down for another kiss. Who is he to deny you? 

He fucks into you faster, this time you can hear the slapping sounds as his length goes in and out of you. One of his hands moving between the two of you to rub your clit and his thrusts to turn sloppy. 

Your eyes are rolling to the back of your head the more Yeonjun pumps his dick into you. You could feel his length kiss your cervix with every thrust. This is all so new to you, and the only thing you could do is keep moaning and telling him how good it felt.

“This pussy was made for me. Isn’t it baby?” he states rather than asks.

“Y-yes Jun.” you’re a stuttering mess, you could barely answer him as it is.

“Taking me so well princess. I wanna fuck you like this all the time now.” he praises again, taking your thighs and pressing them towards your stomach. The new angle causes you to whimper, you can feel him so much deeper. Your gummy walls are practically suctioning him.

You moan in response. He’s fucked you dumb at this point, cock drunk with every move he makes inside your wet cunt.

“Can I cum inside you baby?” he asks in between kisses. 

“Please Junnie, wanna feel you cum in me.” you moan, the feeling of your clit being stimualted as he fucks you is causing you to see stars. You cum around him, gripping his dick as you ride out your second orgasm. As if on queue Yeonjun relases his cum inside you, halting his thrusts. He continues to kiss you making sure you feel loved and wanted, his member still buried inside you. 

“You were amazing for your first time princess.” he praises you once again, you kiss him in response. 

“Lets do it again please.” you giggle. 

Yeonjun kisses up your neck, his cock still rock hard. 

“Whatever you want love.” he responds, thrusting into you again. 

© wonustars

[wlntrsldler]

bad for business | luke castellan

warnings: loser!luke agenda is strong with this one, insecure!luke because of reader's judgmental siblings but they get over it later on, suggestive content but nothing explicit, luke being happy and in love (we need more of this; i'm pointing the finger at myself, i need to write happy luke fics) aphrodite!reader x luke, in an alternate universe where the betrayal didn't happen

based on bad for business by sabrina carpenter

i. he's good for my heart, but he's bad for business.

"she's probably going to dump him soon, anyway."

"she's just doing it for the tradition, obviously."

"she's too good for him."

sometimes luke just wanted to tell them to shut up, but he's already on thin ice with-- well, everyone at camp. they weren't a fan of the smell of cigarettes that lingered on his clothes, or the ugly scar on his face (this, wasn't his fault though. if anything, they should hate his fucking dad for giving him the quest in the first place), or the fact that he's somehow dating the most popular, gorgeous, and brilliant girl at camp.

you, y/n y/l/n, the favorite daughter of aphrodite. at first luke thought that you'd be just like the rest of the aphrodite girls (he's not one to perpetuate stereotypes, being the victim of it all his life, but the aphrodite kids always turned their noses up at him so he didn't feel too bad dishing it out), but then you smiled at him with your pretty, pink lips and luke knew he was a goner. he didn't stand a chance (not like he fought it too hard anyway)

you made an effort to remember his name, say hello to him when you passed by him, and you even went as far as asking him for his opinion on things.

"what do you think of this strategy, luke?" you asked, staring at him directly. the entire blue team was arguing loudly (luke thought their strategy fucking sucked and was a sure way for the ares cabin to, once again, demolish all of you, but he was going to keep that to himself) before your soft voice broke the noise. everyone stopped in their tracks because why the hell were you talking to him? asking him for his opinion?

he blinked, even looking behind him in case there was some other kid named luke that he didn't know about. when he finally realized that you were talking to him, he managed to stutter out that the plan was fine. you looked at him skeptically, penetrating the persona he put up with everyone, but decided not to push him anymore and simply nodded.

when the red team, led by the ares cabin, of course, handed your asses to you on a silver platter, you found luke at dinner and sat directly in front of him. chris, who was just as starstruck as luke that you were sitting with them, immediately scrambled off his seat and mumbled some half-hearted excuse to leave the two of you alone.

"so, spill," you said, planting your tray of food on the table. "what did you really think of the strategy?"

your conversation went from strategy to your life to his life to everything and anything until you two were the last two people left. he was glad when people finally got tired of gawking at you and him. (many in disbelief, all in jealousy that you decided to sit with him) you didn't seem to mind the stares, though, luke figured it was because you were used to it. it was hard not to stare at you.

luke thought that dinner was just a glitch in the matrix, that it was just some weird anomaly that would never happen again. he was just thankful that it happened; but then the next day, your perfectly manicured hand knocked on the hermes cabin door and you stood in front of luke with a timid smile on your face to ask him to train you in sword fighting.

luke got dressed at record speed. chris woke up after the third time luke hit his head under his bed when he was trying to find a semi-decent shirt to wear to your sparring session (maybe one that didn't smell too much like cigarettes). chris sat up on his bed, eyebrow quirked, with a teasing smile on his face.

as luke was racing out the door, he looked at chris, "don't start.''

chris threw his head back laughing, "i didn't say anything."

luke threw a pillow at chris with an oomph before rushing out to meet you.

the training sessions slowly morphed into sitting next to each other daily during meals, then into hanging out at campfires, until it got to the point when there wouldn't be a second of free time where the two of you wouldn't be together. luke could feel your siblings shooting daggers at him whenever he was alone, like a warning to stay away from you, but it's not like he was the one initiating things.

sure, he would follow you around the ends of the world if you asked (or even if you didn't, let's be honest here) but luke didn't want to test his luck so he just went with the flow. sometimes, he just wanted to talk to your siblings to set the record straight.

"look, i'm just as fucking confused as you are," he would say, "i don't know why she's hanging out with me either."

as much as he enjoyed your moments together, a piece of him still worried that you were just being nice. maybe you were this way with everyone. maybe he just likes you so much that he's making up these scenarios in his head.

he tried to talk to chris about it, but that proved to be the wrong decision because it's not like the boy had any experience either; he was pining over clarisse. the blind leading the blind, truly.

and then one day, while you and luke were sitting beside the water, after a long day of training, you looked over at him with an unreadable expression.

panicked, luke immediately straightened his back and twisted his body to face you. he wanted to reach for your hand to comfort you, but decided against it. he didn't want to make you uncomfortable. he cleared his throat, "what's wrong?"

"why haven't you asked me out?"

you would've thought percy summoned a cold wave to crash into luke with the way he was sitting there frozen. luke was looking at you blankly, like his brain was short-circuiting. it was a habit of his to blink and tilt his head to the side whenever he was shocked.

"huh?"

you were frowning now, "do you not like me? i'm sorry, i guess i was just reading the situation wrong."

"woah, pause," luke leaned in closer, inspecting your face to see if there was a punchline about to drop like it was a gotcha! moment and all of your siblings would come out from behind the trees to laugh at him. he found no sign of such a thing. "do you like me?"

"luke, i've been so obvious," there was a hint of embarrassment in your voice and luke wanted to kiss it away. your cheeks were dusted with the lightest shade of red as you chewed on your bottom lip. "i thought maybe you liked me too, but i guess it was all in my head. i'm sorry-- forget i even said anything."

"yeah, i don't want to forget it," luke shook his head, now stumbling over his words. his brain was working again, sort of. "i like you, too. like really like you. sorry, you just caught me off guard for a sec."

"you do?"

"gods, i really really do."

you beamed at him and luke was so thankful that he was sitting because his knees would've buckled at your reaction and humiliated himself by falling face-first in the water if he was standing. he was especially thankful that he was sitting when you climbed onto his lap to make out with him until both of your lips were bruised.

ii. i'm mad for you, it's sad but true, and you know it. you're on my mind, you stole my life and it's showing.

word traveled fast after that. when you walked into breakfast with luke's arm around your waist, the whispers started. luke thought the staring before was bad, but this was on a new level. he felt the other aphrodite kids following his every move, poison in their eyes.

when you sat next to luke, impossibly close to him, chris' eyebrows rose in glee. he motioned to the both of you with his spoon, flicking drops of milk with the motion, "what's going on here?"

"i'm luke's girlfriend now."

luke nearly choked on the apple he was eating when he heard the words leave your lips. yes, he knew that you were dating now (his pathetically hoarse voice saying, "will you be my girlfriend?" after the hours-long makeout session the night before haunted his dreams last night; he wanted to keep his cool so bad, but it just wasn't possible when you were sitting on his lap, all pretty with your thighs on either side of his, lips glossy with his saliva instead of your typical lipgloss), but it was the first time he heard you refer to yourself as his girlfriend. his girlfriend.

"nice," chris raised his hand up for a high-five, which luke was about to complete, but chris pulled his hand away, "not for you, dude."

you giggled and high-fived chris, making luke look between the two of you in bewilderment.

"what the fuck was that?" luke asked. when did you and chris get close?

"this is embarrassing," you started, looking down at your plate of food. you were dragging your spoon across the blob of oatmeal, "but i talked to chris about you last week because i was so sad that you haven't made a move yet. i just wanted to hear his opinion on things in case i was just being stupid."

"why didn't you tell me this?"

"i tried!" chris argued, laughing a bit when luke's face turned red, "plus, i didn't want to tell you that me and y/n had a conversation because i had faith that you'd make a move! i obviously bet on the wrong horse, though, because y/n made the move."

"oh my gods, i'm a loser." luke groaned, tossing the apple on his tray. he lost his appetite. "you mean we could've been together this entire time?"

you placed a hand on his thigh, making him turn his attention to you. you gave him a comforting smile that he quickly reciprocated. you gave his thigh a soft squeeze, "it's okay, luke. we can make up for lost time."

luke smirked at you, "tonight?"

"dude, i'm trying to fucking eat."

luke threw up the middle finger to chris' face before connecting your lips.

to luke's surprise, your relationship didn't really change much after putting a label on it. (the changes that did occur were that now he can kiss you freely, which he was thankful for, and that you were even more touchy with him, which he was extremely thankful for because he loved having you next to him at all times. he was so smitten with you.) he realized then how blind he'd been the entire time because you were so very obvious about your feelings for him, he was just too stuck in his own head to notice it.

he started being outwardly affectionate with you, gaining more confidence while he was on your arm. his favorite thing to do was to wrap his arms around your torso and bury his face into the crook of your neck. he loved hearing you erupt in giggles when his curls tickled your skin. he was drunk on you and you didn't mind one bit.

you even said that you were more attached to him than he was to you (he looked at you like you had three heads because it couldn't have been further from the truth.)

he took you on little picnic dates and made you jewelry that you wore proudly, and you wore his clothes (he would be lying if he said that his heart didn't skip a beat when you walked out of the aphrodite cabin sporting his hermes sweater) but above all, luke loved the way he could talk to you about everything. he told you about his mom, his dad, his doubts and his insecurities, and you listened. you would sit there, hands in his hair, while he laid on your chest. he didn't know the last time he felt safe, but with you, he always did.

iii. all of my friends think i've gone crazy, but they don't know me like my baby.

luke tried to ignore the fact that there were running bets from campers about how long you two would last, but it was getting to him. he'd heard it all; a week, two weeks, three months. he fought the urge to roll his eyes when he heard the jingling of drachmas being passed around when you and him were seen together after someone lost their bet.

it's been two months but people still believed that you two were going to break up soon. the idea of it made luke feel sick. he couldn't imagine a life without being yours anymore. truth be told, he was wholly yours the minute he met you, but after every kiss, every hug, every second with you, he was just falling deeper in love with you.

it was a little scary.

"hiya, baby," you greeted him, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders.

you started calling him the pet name a few days into dating and luke actually whimpered when you did it the first time. you loved getting these reactions from luke and his little sounds (both innocent and not-so-innocent) only spurred you on. when he's with you, luke turned into this mush, always wanting to be held by you or touching you in some way.

"hi," he mumbled, leaning up to place a quick kiss on your lips.

you hummed happily before resting your hands on his back, "baby, you're tense. are you okay?"

"yeah," luke replied, but his furrowed eyebrows said differently.

"no you're not," you walked in front of him, wrapping your arms around his torso, "what's going on?"

luke sighed, "everyone thinks we're gonna break up-- or more specifically, everyone thinks you're gonna break up with me."

"do you believe that i'll break up with you?" you frowned, loosening your hold on him. "did i do something that made you think that?"

"no, no," he said, quickly. he pulled you closer to him, not wanting you to let go of him. "i just-- i dunno. everyone says i'm not good enough for you, and i know i'm not, and it's getting to my head a little bit."

you looked up at him, removing your hands from around him to reach for his face. you brought his face down closer to yours to pepper kisses all over it; his cheeks, his lips, his scar, his jaw. "i think you're perfect."

"you have to say that 'cause you're my girlfriend," he playfully rolled his eyes, but he couldn't stop a goofy smile from forming on his face due to your kisses.

"yeah, i am your girlfriend," you reminded him, placing a longer kiss on his lips now. your lips moved together, making luke's hands wander to your lower back to push you closer to him. you pulled away, breathless, "listen to your girlfriend, baby. i'm not going anywhere so don't worry your pretty little head about it."

there were still moments when the voices of the other campers bounced around in luke's head, but you were always there to quiet them with your reassurance and your love for him.

eventually, people stopped talking about you and luke and accepted that you two weren't breaking up anytime soon (they were about six months too late, in luke's opinion). he even managed to win over your siblings later on (kind of; they still don't talk to him unless they have to but they smile at him now, but luke isn't picky; a win is a win)

luke was happy and in love and it was all thanks to you.

[bengals-barnesbabe]

Roses

~ requested: song lyric prank on your man, ^ that's how he gon' look afterward lol ~

bf!joe burrow x black!reader

TW: MDNI 18+ | spoiler alert: this is not about flowers. flowers mentioned a couple of times tho, language, smut, mentions of: self-pleasure (fem), public sex, vibrators, and some other stuff, its rated R just enjoy it ♡

“Thank You TikTok” | Main Masterlist

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

~have I been planning to use this song in some form way, shape or form since sis dropped it?? oh yea. did I make this SECONDS after getting the request? HELL YEA.

thank you anon, i hope you liked it. I had a great time making it.🤍

[astraystayyh]

Myth

Bang Chan x reader. highly recommend listening to Myth by Beach House while reading! <3

Skimming across the edge of being friends and something more with Chan is a dangerous game. Even more so when you're both sharing the same bed.

(@inniejeonginnie cameo because she's innie's gf!)

skz song series masterlist

"The heater won't work," Seungmin announces to the group, and you all stare at each other blankly.

This was Seungmin's family cabinet. It was a tradition for you all to go there on your winter break- Seungmin, Jeongin and their partners, and then you and Chan. There were only three bedrooms along with the living room- that's where Chan was supposed to sleep. But the heater isn't working. He'll surely freeze in there all by himself.

"He can stay in my room, it's okay," you smile slightly, turning around to gauge Chan's reaction. He smiles back, but his hand is curled into a tight fist. He unclenches it once he spots you staring.

"Then that's settled! See you tomorrow!" Jeongin rapidly exclaims, happy at the prospect of not having to sleep next to Chan. He pulls his girlfriend Anya by the hand, biding you all goodnight.

One by one they all go upstairs, until it's only you and Chan left in there. Suddenly, the oxygen is sucked out of the room; and you feel as if you're standing in a field doused with gasoline, where a single flame teeters on the edge of igniting- threatening to set you both aflame.

"You coming?" you ask and he nods wordlessly. You walk ahead first, and Chan places his hand on your lower back. He drops it once you reach the top of the stairs, but the ghost of his touch lingers in there, his fingertips now seared into your spine.

The light is warm in your room, curtsey of the chandelier hanging from the wall. Its yellow glow reflects on Chan's honeyed skin, and you can't seem to take your eyes off of him as he settles on the edge of your bed.

"I'll go change and then you can go to the bathroom too," you say quietly, and he simply nods. He hasn't spoken once since you invited him in. It's driving you insane. Did he not want this? Were you reading all the signs wrong?

You come out of the bathroom; your hair put away in a braid to keep it out of your face. You can feel Chan’s burning gaze on the curve of your exposed neck, before he goes in after you without a word.

You climb into the bed, your back flush against the headboard. You watch silently as Chan comes out his turn. He's wearing a simple black t-shirt and loose shorts. Suddenly, you are hit by the domesticity of it all. You and Chan in your pajamas, sharing the same bed. Is this how it would be if you started dating? Waiting for him to get changed, to come onto the bed with you? Maybe you'd brush your teeth together, maybe he'd be the one braiding your hair.

"Good night," he whispers, his voice hoarse as he turns the light off.

"Good night," you say just as quietly, palpable tension oozing from the both of you.

You both lay down, heads facing the ceiling. The bed is big, big enough for you both to never touch each other throughout the night. And yet, you can feel the warmth radiating from his body, reaching your own in waves. He's so close and yet he feels so far away.

You can't sleep, you know you won't. Not when all you are thinking about is the man next to you. You don't know what changed; if you were in this bed one year ago, you'd both be cracking jokes. There would be no tense silence surrounding you, threatening to suffocate you under its weight.

But that would be a year ago. Things are different now between the two of you. You can't pinpoint when exactly, but suddenly, Chan's eyes on you were scorching, setting your body ablaze. Suddenly, each time your hand brushed against his, you felt butterflies roaming through your stomach, violently as if fighting for a way to come out and meet the man who's making you feel this way.

If you built yourself a myth, you'd know just what to give

Chan was abruptly everywhere. He was there, opening doors for you, and he was there wiping your tears away. He was there kissing your forehead gently and smiling so wildly at your unfunny jokes. Your eyes searched for his in every room, and you always found him looking back, always.

And he was there, when you were both tipsy over some cheap wine, giggling in the middle of an empty playground at midnight. He was there, caressing your cheeks and painting them pink, as if his fingers were paintbrushes and your face a canvas. And he was there, leaning forward and brushing his lips against yours, before moving them away.

What comes after this momentary bliss?

You've never spoken about that day, and here you are now, lying on the same bed, burning up.

"Are you asleep?" he asks after a while, turning around to look at you.

"No," you reply, shifting in your place to face him as well. "Are you cold?" you ask quietly.

"No. Never around you," he confesses breathlessly, making your heart skip a beat.

The consequence of what you do to me

He leans closer to you, his hand shaking as it raises up to rest on top of your cheek. You exhale a rugged breath, heart beating wildly in your chest.

"What are you doing?" you ask, and he shushes you slightly, his thumb trailing across your lower lip in an agonizing manner.

"Tell me this is real, that you feel it too," he pleads, eyes begging looking into yours. He leans even closer to you, until your noses brush against one another.

"Tell me I'm not imagining it, whatever this is. Help me to name it," he says as he places your hand on top of his heart. It's hammering in there too.

Help me to name it

You tentatively raise your free hand, tracing over his pretty features, and he closes his eyes, exhaling softly at your touch.  

"You drive me insane Chan," you whisper, "Why didn't you kiss me that night?"

"I thought you didn't want me to."

You shake your head, "I wanted you to."

Help me to name it

"Really?" he smiles tentatively, and you nod, "Really."

He's cautious as his hand slides down the back of your neck, pulling you closer. Your hand finds his hair, playing with its soft brown locks.

Help me to name it

"You want me?"

"I want you."

"What are we?" he asks, as his lips brush against yours once again.

"We can name it tomorrow."

[shocymer]

Redemption

"To him who's giving you a second chance, If there's heaven and hell, would you still risk everything for him?"

Pairing : mafia!Mingi × f!reader

Word counts : 6,1k

Contents and Warning : 18+ smut mdni! , mafia! AU, mention of illegal drugs, TW! mention of abused (undetailed), mention of rape (undetailed), attachment issue, suicide attempt (see the end notes), smoking cigs!mingi, action, gunfight, bloodshed, soft dom!mingi, oral (giving), size kink, slightly choking, unprotected sex, cumshot, creampie, husband!Mingi.

× This works is part of "The Brothers Series", and never meant to represent Mingi in any shape or form ×

Cold. Ache. Numb joints. Struggled to blink your eyes for a few times, you found yourself laying down in the dark alley for don’t even know how many hours have passed. Slowly moving your bruised frail hand to reach those chapped lips of yours. A familiar deep voice startled you. You saw those man through the corner of your eyes.

He's leaning against the alley wall next to you. Lighted his cigarette, before letting out a puff of smoke that slowly dissolve into thin air.

“Just like I told you before young lady. You should take my last offer.”

The tears rolled down your cheek. Recollecting your memories how he found you in the similar state a week before, except it isn’t worse as now. With the same bruises covered all over your body, due to escaping from your abused household, you could still save that perfect healthy legs of yours.

His words kept ringing inside of your head. As it’s like forced to get out of it. “Come with me, I can guarantee your safety.” Made you rethink over few times. Who else should I trust? People who only called themselves family constantly abusing you whenever they like just to venting out their anger issues. So far you could endure it all, but unfortunately not last night. In attempted to fight back, your legs get broken instead. Right in the middle of the night after all of those hell ride, you dragged your limping self to this dark alley with the only remaining strength.

The man shrugged his shoulder in impatience. Waiting for your answer who’s still silently cry while laying on the cold asphalt not moving an inches.

“So, how is it?” he’s asking your final decision.

You turn your head towards him, mouthing the words “Please take me.” Before the consciousness left you out.

He throw away the remaining cigarette that slipped between his fingers. Stepped on it with the tip of his sole then walk slowly towards your body. He crouched down while scanning your miserable state.

Shook his head as if he felt the pain after seeing you, then a deep sighed left from his mouth. “What a poor soul, you should’ve decided earlier.”

After he brushed off the dust on his black suit a little bit, he carried you into his arms. Proceed to walk step by step towards the end, greeted by his men who’s immediately open the car door for him. Then they drove away, taking you out of that terrible dark alley, leaving it’s coldness and your past behind.

⁠✧

“As expected you’re doing a good job.” His sweet voice echoed in your ears, quite the opposite of his intimidating looks.

It’s the same man who saved you a few years back, Song Mingi. He’d been diving in illegal activities since the beginning of his life, doing a lot of dirty works neatly. His men were scattered everywhere, all thanks to the connections he had built from a long time ago. And you think you’re also part of them.

You devoted your entire life for him as he’s your salvation. Obediently do everything he ordered without hesitation. Despite all of the sin he had done, never in any slightest he will put you in danger. To the point you’re getting bored of hearing his same message every time you’ll go on a mission.

“If the situation getting worse and you are in unfavorable state, find me. I’ll take care the rest of it.”

Sometimes you want to protest. Due to a lot of experiences of working under him for many years, you should be able to handle the worst possible thing. But he always forbids you, questioning your own safety and it ended with a long lecture. If so, what can you do? You can only sit with your head down waiting for him to finish his scolding. But deep down inside you’re happy about it.

“I just did what my master told me to do.” You responded in bliss everytime he praises you.

His fingertips run trough the strands of your hair, stroking it in delicate manner. “Good girl.” While looking into your eyes proudly. His smile is intoxicating. That’s become a strong reason for you to do his errands perfectly.

“This is for your hard work.” He put a white fancy paper bag on your bed. Then giving you few last caress on top of your head before leaving. Your eyes trailing his presence till it disappear behind the door.

When you peeked at the contents, it was a bundle of money and a jewelry box with small note on it.

Throw away the old one, I know it shredded into pieces.

- M.

You laughed at the note. How could you throw it away, that was the first gift he gave to you. You already guessed that the second you open the box, it’s an exact same bracelet that wrapped around your wrist for years, struggled to keep intact after it wrecked on your last two missions. Well, he’s pretty sweet for a criminal.

⁠✧

Different days, different matters. Beside the other trivial works, his biggest main source is the casino. What made him furious was someone trying to sabotage it by smuggling illegal drugs in. He already had one or two suspect names and somehow believed they’re located in a red light district area. Now, you’re into a heat arguments with him, hating every nonsense ideas that spurt out of your pretty lips.

“No. Definitely not.” He crossed his arms, sure thing your words flamed his anger even more.

“It’s much easier for me to blend in there. You’ll get their information faster.” You talk quietly afraid of his wrath. He always lets you join him wherever he goes. Except for one place, the red light district. Either he left you at his place or he never told you that he would go there.

Frustration overwhelmed him, ended up taking off his black spectacle. “I hate to say this sweetie, but I’m a man and you’re a woman. I can’t let you go there.”

“But the sex worker..” You averted your gaze from him, hesitant to continue. “are mostly women, I thought that I can disguise as one of them.”

He immediately got up from the chair and walked towards you. His thumb and index finger grabbed your chin, turning your face to him, made you looking straight into his eyes. “Listen young lady, it’s not worth of the risk. I-” he shook his head then release the grip from your chin.

“I lost my mother there. She was brutally ganged by multiple crazy bastard.” You could see his jaw tightened, his stare were full of resentment. “I was only six that time. Then, father brought me here.”

Ah, somehow you’re familiar with the father figure he told you about. You believed there’s 8 of them who’s adopted by the father. As you remember, they named themselves KQ Fellaz. They’re quite famous cartel where you used to live before. Even though their existence is still questionable, but at that time people keep talking about them. You don’t even know if Mingi was part of it. In fact, you think he’s the father itself due to him has saved you before.

Now you understand, why he strictly banned you from going there. He didn’t budge at all after spilling over his bitter past. Couldn't stand the look on his face, you bring your warm hand to cupped his cheek, caressing it slowly hoping it’ll calm him down. When you’re about to hug him, there’s a knock on the door. Both of you turned to the source of the sound in reflex.

“Come in!” Mingi yelled.

A tall male figure entered the room. He looked friendly, his arms were wide open as if he was waiting for Mingi into his arms. Mingi’s eyes instantly lit up, then he returned the hug like an old friend who hasn't seen each other for a long time.

“Oh Yunho, I thought you wouldn’t come.” Mingi said as he let go.

“I’ll definitely come. But I couldn’t promise you exactly when.” He patted mingi’s back.

They’re lost in conversation, talking about those casino problems which this Yunho guy believed all the ruckus caused by the same prominent figure that interrupted his own works too. Meanwhile, you’re busy looking at him from the corner of the room where you’re sitting. He's the complete opposite of Mingi. His facial features are delicate, his skin is white as milk, his hair is short with dark brown colors and well styled. What equates them is only their clothing, they consistently wear black suits, although Yunho is much more formal, meanwhile Mingi looks a little bit casual just like how people dealing in this kind of works are supposed to be look like.

There’s no intimidating aura emits from him. Made you wonder, what works he’s in with those kind of look? An entertainer? Or public figure? Who knows, maybe he’s one of informants that your master is looking for.

You stopped your thoughts when his eyes met with yours. He gave you a soft smile, before turned back to Mingi.

“You’re into adopting too ?”

“She is..” Mingi took a quick glance at you, a thin smile formed his lips, “..my tool. You know, I’m not as good as father.” He always takes time to praise no one know whether those figure exist whenever he mentioned its name. Using his index and middle fingers, he gestured you to come over him.

You obediently approached Mingi, his arm automatically wrap around your waist as asserting your ownership to the person he’s talking to. If he did this, it means Yunho is one of his important business partners. But wait, they’re mentioned those same “father” before. So..

Yunho only chuckled at the sight of you two. Then immediately diverted it, “Tell me what else do you need?” he asked.

“I really need their exact location. Ya know there’s dealers activity around the red light district, but I’m still doubting whether it’s legit their quarters or their operation zone only.” Mingi reached for the lighter in his pocket to light the cigarette that placed between his lips. Smoked on it once or twice.

“I sent my men to check it last week, but fuck there’s no words back till now.” He continued while looking far away out of the window.

Yunho could sense the annoyance radiating through his words. “And? What’s your next move?”

He grinned while imagining how he would ravage those wretch. “Wiped clean their base of course. I don’t like any pests slink in my lovely fields.”

Knowing what to do, Yunho promised him that he’ll be back for few days to dig more information. Before leaving, he put his hand on Mingi’s shoulder, leaning closer to talk beside him in low tone. “Remember, don’t act rashly.” When Mingi turned to him, he only gave him a faint smile, “Oh and keep an eye on your surrounding bud.” Then, he patted Mingi’s shoulder for few times and walk away out of the room, leaving you two alone.

⁠✧

“.. Yes sir, please go this way. We can talk about it in my office.” The old man that known as the manager guided Mingi as soon as he set his foot at the casino entrance.

You look around, the situation is still the same as the normal days. Crowded by people who enjoy betting their own wealth, plus the sound of slot machines were rumbling in the background as you go deep inside. The casino has been around for almost a decade. Even though it’s still quite new, but its reputation is well known to be able to compete with others. And of course Mingi despise any slightest intervention for the continuity of his business. So, he intended to find out everything with his own eyes today.

“How about we talk about the matters here. I want to enjoy the casino atmosphere right now.” He declined the offer politely, giving a convincing reason with the only sole purpose which is to observe everything clearly.

The manager immediately snapped his fingers, called several waiters to prepare the VIP seats that located in the middle of the casino. Of course anything is done for your master as the respective owner of this place.

“Sir, would you like some ladies for the companion, before we start?” The same old man made an offer while inviting him to take a seat.

He gestured with his hand to reject it. “No need, I bring my own. Shall we start now?” He pulled you to sit on his lap as soon as he sat on the couch. You catch what he means right away, then you begin to put your hand behind his neck while the other one rest on his clothed chest, acting like one of his own ladies. But on the contrary, he didn’t have any girls around.

All of his past trauma was swallowing over him, every girl touches made him uncomfortable in some kind of a way. Disgusted by the fact how his mother’s life ended by several men, he’s afraid of the possibility to unleashed the sickening behavior as a man whenever any woman approached him. But after he met you, he’ll bring you along whether to meet the clients or some of the influential person on his work. Therefore, beside of doing your job as his underlings, the other purpose was to avoid some ladies that sent to accompany him in every meetings with them. And that cause you often mistaken as his woman by a lot of people he met.

Back to the casino right now, you directed your gaze all over the room, trying to catch if something strange might be happen. Sometimes, you took a glance at Mingi who’s still talking to those manager, trying to read his cautious expression to the surrounding. He’ll occasionally caress your thigh for a few times, only to keep your composure.

You flicked your eyes to the side, noticing the odd. Proceed to run your fingertips from his chest up to his neck and end up covering your lips from the side which is pressing against his right ear. Mingi hold the grunts that almost escape from the back of his throat as he feel your soft breath hitting on his skin, and he finally giving the attention you wanted.

“2 o’clock direction. I’ll check it right away.” You whispered into his ear.

His eyes aimed at the place you’re referring to, then slightly lean away from you. “My sweetie is bored huh? You wanna look around?” He brushed his palm on your back gently, still didn’t drop the act.

“Yes please, can I?” You cooed at him, giving your pampered look as convincing as possible.

“Of course, everything for you baby.” Then he pulled you closer, pressing his lips to yours for a few seconds before let you go.

You didn’t expect he will kiss you right away. Isn’t it too much for a mere acting? Wait, did he repay your previous actions? Mingi’s expression was hard to read, he only smirked at you as if “good luck” was the only two words that written on his face. However, you swift away towards the possible problems occurred, after showed them your sweetest smile for the last time.

Well, it didn’t go smoothly as you wanted. You pretend to be interested in the slot machines that lined up near you, under the pretext of approaching those suspicious figures stealthily. But it ended up they’re in the middle of the crowd where it’s difficult for you to reach. You tried to sneak in, squishing your body among a lot of people. To be honest, this wasn’t your main forte. Your part is to deal with the target directly as a decoy. And there’s no other option, it’s too crowded for any commotion to occur, so the only thing you can do is watching them closely.

They drew closer to each other, it seems like exchanging something under their coat. You accidentally stole glances with one of them, and somehow he looks quite familiar but there’s no other clue because half of his face is covered with hat. You still tried to get closer carefully, but alas it didn’t work. They’re gone, blending in with the crowd, wearing the same black coat with people around in the casino.

You turned your gaze to Mingi from the place you’re standing right now. Only realized that his eyes was fixed on you from the earlier you left. Slightly shook your head at him, you gave him signal that the target was gone. He rolled his eyes, immediately stopping his conversation with the manager before barging out of the casino furiously. You followed him behind, who’s cursing along the way towards his car.

Pulled the highest gear and stepped on the gas pedal, he’s driving in full speed. His eyes pierced straight towards the road as if he could tear it apart. There’s too many questions running inside of your head, but you’re afraid to ask. So you just sit quietly on the passenger seat beside him.

He pressed the bridge of his nose every now and then, hoping it’ll reduce the headache a little bit. But it didn’t work either way. He decided to break the silence after quite some time. “Haa.. I can’t trust those old man either.”

You dared yourself to give him a response, “why? You have known him for a long time though.”

“It just.. my own suspicion. Nothings deep.” He looked much calmer than before while still focused on driving his car. “That’s why I bring you instead of useless bunch of my men.”

Right, the casino manager must be recognize them here and there if Mingi wanted to check it in secret. But it still didn’t work, you lost those troublemaker too. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t do it properly.”

He clicked his tongue before bringing his fingers that belong to his right hand, running through some stands of your loose hair. “Relax, sometime it tend to happen.” You thought he would be mad, but actually he calmed you instead. To the point you could feel the cold sweat enveloped over your palm because you’re too afraid of him.

His phone is ringing, the incoming call notification were written on the head unit screen, it’s from one of his men. Informed him that they had found the target location. He swerved the steering wheel all at once, immediately drove to the location they’re referring to. Just like how he speculated before, he felt satisfied that it was right, those bastards base was in the red light district area.

Upon the arrival, he gave you a warning sign to not to get out of the car no matter what happen, before rushing out and being greeted by his several men. You saw him through the car window, the way his annoyed expression drawn on his face, but still kept the composure remain. It can be seen that he burn the cigarettes tip and taking a deep drag of it, just to calm himself down.

He pulled out his favorite handgun, racking the slide once to load in the bullet, then he gave the command to break into those place. His men spreading all over the main hall in swift motion, but strangely there’s not a single person was on guard there. Due to unexpected of this big place, Mingi ordered them to split up and told them to kill anyone they met.

On the other hand, you just sat quietly in the car, even though occasionally heard the gunshots noise one after another coming from the mansion which couldn't be muffled by how tight the car was. Oh to be the passenger princess, you’re hating how useless you are right now.

You startled by the sudden rang coming from Mingi’s phone, Yunho’s name was pop out on the screen. Hesitant whether you should answer or ignore it afraid of being too nosy. After you think clearly like how careless is your master to left out his important being here, you end up slide the green button to the right.

“Hello, where are you right now?” Yunho’s anxious voice heard across the phone.

You answered him carefully, “Uhm sir, it’s me. We’re in the red light district right now.”

“Wait, where’s Mingi?”

“He’s in the big white mansion,” you look around trying to describe how it’s look like. “..it’s located deep in the area, we turned left from the four junction of the main road, then-”

He cut off your explanation, “Shit, he’s lured in! All of it was a trap.” He sighed, “can you reach hi-” Good heaven, the call disconnected due to signal lost.

You shook the phone, hoping it’ll catch the signal back, but it didn’t work. As soon as you gathered your mind, you took the 'smith and wesson' out of the glove compartment, slipping in between the thigh band under your little black dress. Getting out of the car, you entered the white mansion in instant.

It's weirdly too calm on the first floor. Feeling like lost the sense of direction, you just followed your gut. Running to the left wing of mansion, checking on every single room, you only wished to find Mingi as soon as possible. On every step you wondered, Why did the gunshots noise stopped? It makes you difficult to track the source of the fight.

Shit thing’s happen, you just entered the wrong room when lost in your thought. There’s a man relaxed sitting on a big armchair while smoking his cigar. You really want to back off, but he already saw you first. You decided to play along rather than causing more complicated thing.

“Good grief, they sent a new bitch”

You came closer to his side while giving him a formality smile. Putting your hand to his shoulder and leaning over him, just keeping the act before you intended to attack him quickly. Alas, he gripped your wrist instead, after that twisting your arm and held it back. He’s grabbing the chunk of your hair then yanked your head to the side, “ I knew you’re not just an ordinary bitches”

You elbowed him in the face with other free hand and giving him a round kick in attempt to released yourself. You took a few steps back, pulled out your handgun then shooting him right on his leg. But if feels nothing to him, he proceed to kick your hand which holding the gun till it flew away. You dodged his every blows as best as you can. Cause it’s impossible to counter him with your only bare hands meanwhile he’s much bigger than you. In the end, he managed to grab your hair again. The pain spreading all over your head as if it almost ripping out your scalp.

You’re just about to give up, there’s no energy left in you. But the door slammed loudly, woke you up. There’s your master firing shots eagerly to this bastard. As soon as his dead body fall onto the floor, you run towards Mingi who’s covered in blood stain.

Your voice was shaking while wiping the blood out of his face, “you’re hurt.”

“It’s not mine.” Referring to those blood. He hold your hand gently, staring deep into your eyes, looking at how messed up you’re right now. “But you are the one who’s injured”

He crouched down to pick your gun and giving it back to you. “Who else using this gun type besides you.” After that, he smoothed your hair, running his finger through it. How could he’d be this gentle despite in the midst of chaos. It feels like the world is collided and there’s only you two left.

But those feels didn’t last long, both of you drawn to the sound of explosion coming from the deep within the mansion. You just aware that half of it was burned in fire when you looked outside. He took you to another side of mansion which he considered it safe. On your way there, many dead bodies laying around. You could identified one and two of them, only realizing it mostly coming from Mingi’s side.

“You didn’t lose right?” You asked him while still running hand in hand.

“What makes you think like that?” He turned towards you, “ I killed ‘em all on the other side.”

Before continuing his words, both of you were blocked by the groups of his men right in the middle of mansion grounds. When he was going to hand you over to them with the intention of taking you out safely, one of them firing the gun. The bullet grazed your upper right arms, made you fall onto your knees due to shock.

“Are you fucking out of your mind?!!” Mingi was furious at the sight, he bombard the remaining bullets he had to them without thinking, gunned them down one by one. However, he’s still out numbered. Whether he want it or not, he received multiple shots that pierced through his body. You almost gone crazy, seeing him so badly injured with your own eyes. It got to the point he couldn’t stand on his own feet anymore.

You stepped to the front, covering him in injured state while shooting them with your trembling left hand. Not too long, the strong wind hitting the ground while you’re still busying yourself in the gunfight, followed by the sound of helicopter blade getting closer. You squinted your eyes trying to see it clearly, then found a muscular man shooting his machine gun towards Mingi’s underlings, from inside of the helicopter.

“Step back! We’ll take over.” Yunho shouted, walking from your behind while pointing his gun at them.

Catching on the situation, you backed yourself out. Proceed to put Mingi’s arm around your shoulder then carried him to the safer place. You laid him down slowly, before starting to rip some part of your dress in attempt to stop his bleeding. Your tears fell right away in a moment he struggled to reach your cheek.

You hold his hand, “please don’t move too much, I tried my best to treat your wound okay?”

When you finished covered his wounds, his grip was weakened. You can’t think clearly at the moment, checking his heartbeat back and forth by pressing your ear on top of his chest. You tried to talk to him over and over, hoping he would stay conscious. Till there’s one time you couldn’t feel his breath anymore.

“No! please don’t leave me!” You cried out, crumbling apart, there’s no point to continue your life if he’s gone. Everything’s went silence as if there’s no gunfight going on in the background.

You decided to racked the slide of your gun, then pointing out under your chin. The tears keep running out of your eyes as you looked down to his body. You took a deep breath, then putting you finger to the trigger. Chanting his name in the whisper. After that, you didn’t felt anything as you went black out.

⁠✧

More than a week passed since that day, you’re sitting in front of his room with your bandaged arm. Luckily you’re immediately fainted right before pulling the trigger. If not, you wouldn’t know if Mingi is still alive until now. He woke up a few days ago after he went into short coma. His three brothers took turns looking after him, you don’t know the rest of their name but surely Yunho is one of them.

To be honest, you really wanted to scold him the second he woke up, but Yunho already done that, so you don’t need to.

“He’s looking for you.” Yunho said that to you before he left.

You knocked on the door, then stepping into Mingi’s room. He smiled at you as soon as you come closer towards his bed. Right now, he’s leaning against the headboard with his naked torso covered in the bandage, he looks much better than the last time you saw him. You sure have known for a long time how fit his body is. But not today, you felt something strange when you looked at his toned chest as if you want to run your fingertips through it.

“What’s wrong?” His voice interrupted your thoughts.

You shook your head in instant, “nothing.”

“C’mere.” He pulled you to sit next to him. Then brushing his hair back before he put his forehead into the nape of your neck. “Is it weird if I miss you this bad?”

You chuckled, starting to caress his hair gently. “No, you’re not. I feel the same way.”

“You do?” he’s still in the same position, mumbled his words.

“Yes I do, sir.”

He grunted while looking up at you. “Don’t call me sir.” His lips pressing against your ear, “call my name instead, okay sweetie?” He’s started to nibble your earlobe, flicking it using his tongue then tugging it between his teeth.

Biting your lower lips, you tried to hold the sensation of him sucking on your skin. You put your hand on his chest, which had been itching to touch it since your first step into his room. Teasing him a little bit more by trailing on every curved of his chest to his abdominal muscle with your second fingers. He groaned, while he’s still kissing on the side of your neck.

He talked between the kisses, “you know what, actually I want to devour you back in the casino.” He bite on your neck, “the way your plumped ass pressed on my cock.” He bite you again, “the way your delicate fingers touched my skin.” He bite you for the third time before whispering into your ear, “and of course, the way your lips slammed with mine.”

You turned to him, circling your hands to the back of his neck. Staring deep into his eyes, mouthing “I love you” then began to devour his lips passionately. He gave the same energy by parting your lips with his tongue, trying to collide it with yours. You moan between the kisses as he grope your butt to pick you onto his lap.

But really, this isn’t the stamina of someone who just woken up from a coma while still being injured here and there. You grinded on his clothed cock, feeling it growing hard on every stroke you made.

He parted out from the kiss only to see the aroused face of yours. The way your half lidded eye staring on him and how red is your flushed cheek, making him groan on the sight of it. He brought his hand to pull your skirt up, starting to teased your wet clothed clit using his thumb that moving in circle. You throw your head back while moaning out his name.

His other hand slightly choking on your throat while you still dry humping his cock erratically, all of it brought you to the cloud nine as you came in your panties, drenched it out to the core.

“Ah Mingi, stop!” You couldn’t resist your body to spasm after pinching your clit hard, he didn’t give you break to riding down your first orgasm. He’s satisfied at how messy you are right now, then giving you a quick kiss on your lips as a reward.

Didn’t want to lose, you started trailing kisses on his chest down to his stomach. And stopped right in front of his bulge, unbuttoning his pants, then letting it out sprung free. His cock is swollen hard and throbbing at every single touch you made. You looked up at him, feeling proud of yourself as he can’t do anything and only anticipating what will you do next.

You licked the tip of his hard member, twisting it between your tongue to the left and right, before sucking on it hard. Your hand started stroking the remaining length up and down, while you’re bobbing your head to bring it deeper touching to the back of your throat. He couldn’t help but groan loudly, while he grab your hair as it guide you to move faster. “I- I’m so close baby.” You could feel his cock is pulsing, then he shoot his load into your mouth.

Sticking out your tongue, you showed him that you took all of his cum then you swallowed it all the way. “Baby, ride my cock right away.” He cooed. You yanked your panties, and started to slide his cock slowly into your tight pussy. It’s unexpectedly big, that it's bulging out your lower belly everytime it hitting on your womb. At first you grinding it slowly, made him throwing his head back to the headboard. But after quite some time, he dig his fingers on your waist, thrusting his cock deeper and faster. You only cried out incoherent moan as he thrusting it frantically. Pain and pleasure becoming one, he gave one last hard thrust, before filled his cum into your pussy. You squirm and spasm as you feel his hot seed keep spurting in your womb.

He groaned, “that was so good.” Then tucked your hair behind your ear. While still sitting on his lap, you put your head on his shoulder trying to catch your breath.

“Baby..” he called you softly.

You still felt tired, didn’t budge at all in his arms. “Hmm?”

“I think my stitches are open.”

You immediately sat down to his side before seeing the blood seeping through his lower bandage. You shook your head. Ah, it looks like both of you have to be patient for quite some time, until Mingi recover completely.

⁠✧

Milan, 3 Years later.

“Mingi stop!” You pushed him while giggling at how ticklish he’s kissing you. He’s on top of you right now, planting kisses all over you neck, and leaving some mark on it.

You covered his mouth, this is your second attempt to stop him from attacking you. “Come on, there’s our babies around.” You sulking at him.

He back off easily every time you mention the kids. “Alright alright.” Then, he took a seat beside you obediently.

Mingi and you got a pair of twins right away after the marriage, now they’re almost two years old. Walking around the living room and playing with their toys.

Mingi decided to move out to the complete opposite of different continents after he recovered from the injuries. Leaving out the dangerous work and starting a new life with you instead. Sometimes he miss the old times. Just like right now, he’ll teasing you whenever remembered the piece memories of it.

“I can’t get it out of my mind the way you looked at me in those mansion.” He chuckled.

“What am I supposed to do? You’re dying, it’s not even funny.” You’re even more annoyed at him.

“It just, you don’t need to stain your hand by shooting those bastards to death.” He’s giving a serious looks on his face. “It was my biggest regret that I can’t protect you.”

You caress his cheek, “why? You’re doing your best and please stop blaming yourself.”

“It’s not like that, I want you to remain pure. So just let me bear all of your sin. I don’t want to drag you into the hell. An angel is supposed to be in heaven” He frowned, disappointed for all of the things that have been through.

You never know if he thinks about you like that, the sweet side of him never changed since the first time you met, he always save you no matter what happen.

You laughed, “I don’t want to stay in heaven by myself. Let me bring the heaven to you”

“Right, you always bring heaven to me though.” Shaking his head and starting to laugh too. He immediately stand up to approach the twins.

“Let’s wrap it up my prince and princess, it’s a nap time for you two.” He chase them around, which hating to take a nap.

You heard the doorbell rang, so you rushed to open the door.

“Oh Hello, Is Mr. Song at home?” A man who looks a little younger, looking for your husband.

“Wait a minute” You turned your back “Honey, there’s someone looking for you!” You’re going inside, taking his place to put your lovely twin babies to the bed.

Mingi walked towards the front door, fall silent for a moment, after looking at the figure who’s standing right in front of him. “Jongho?”

“Well, long time no see, brother.”

disclaimer : this works didn't instigate any psychological deviation so please seeking the professional when you feel unwell. All of it is purely fiction and for entertaintment purpose only.

[nowimjustastranger]

Hello and welcome! I recently got back into the Gravity Falls fandom and so I created a blog to unleash the sheer amount of feelings that I have about this show!

And, if anyone wants to give me a tip or join the Whiskers Tier for exclusive content, here's my Ko-fi!

I'll be posting a plethora of things on here, from fanart by other artists to my own AU fics. There won't be a masterlist, but click on the tag you're interested in to scroll through the corresponding posts on my blog.

Here are the AU's that I currently have in the works:

The Nexus

A connection or link between things, persons, or events. Or, a series where I connect my AU's with both canon and each other.

The Abyss Stares Back Series

Stan was hesitant to actually step across that threshold where light met dark, so he couched right on the cusp and reached in instead. He expected his hand to hit ground any moment now, then he could fumble for the stupid money clip and get the hell out of here. But his hand simply… didn't. Stan realized with a cold flash of fear and no small amount of confusion that he’d somehow overbalanced himself, his boots desperately scraping against the asphalt as he careened forward. He yelped as his other hand instinctively moved to catch himself, but there’s nothing to catch himself on. There was no ground for either of his palms to touch, just darkness, and it swallowed him whole. Or, Teenage Stan & Old Man Ford portal adventures.

Somebody to Call My Own Series

While exploring the multiverse, Ford 419"3 had come to the distressing realization that Stan suffers in every dimension. So 419"3 Ford made it his mission in life to travel through dimensions and help as many variations of Stan get the happy ending that he deserves by stepping in to correct the course of the timeline to produce the best outcome. The reason why Ford is so determined to alter Stan’s grim fate in so many dimensions is because Ford had lost his own Stan to suicide while he was still in college, which is what drove him to completely bury himself in his studies and invent dimension travel with Fiddleford. Or, Dimension Traveler Old Man Ford nabs Mullet Stan from his dimension and proceeds to aggressively take care of him.

We'll Be Better Tomorrow Mini-Series

Ford 419"3 from the STCMO series pays Stan Pines from Dimension 90V'1 a visit with two very familiar toddlers who need a home.

Or, the Dad Stan AU.

We Never Meant to Become Strangers Series

An AU in which Ford is changed after accidentally going through the portal, not quite as human coming out as he was going in. Or, Ford is a cosmic horror.

Infinity Falls Series

An AU where Stan tells Ford that he accidentally broke his machine and Ford is able to fix it, changing the course of history. Or, a story featuring a darker Pines family and co.

Break the Mold Series

In this universe, Bill Cipher goes by William. He’s still a dream demon who accidentally destroyed his dimension but, instead of embracing chaos and basically turning into a sadistic psycho, he simply wandered the universe in a grief-stricken daze until he came across Stanford. Stanford, who was also an anomaly among his peers just like William had been. William felt a kinship with the human child, appearing in Stanford’s dream that night. And, in true child-like fashion, Stanford quickly befriended the dream demon who complimented his birth defect. Or, the good Bill AU that no one asked for.

[number-onekidqueen]

𝐖𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐖𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐒𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫

Part One Part Two.

Angst

Luke Castellan x Apollo!fem!reader

warnings: underage alcohol use, minor injuries, angst, denying feelings, surprise kisses

Summary: you and Luke go to a party and some things happen while you’re under the influence.

Parties were secret affairs at Camp Half-Blood.

Well, secret from Chiron, the one who would put an end to them. Mr D. could usually be convinced by one of his children to keep quiet if a dash of something alcoholic was poured into his Diet Coke. Once curfew had passed and all the younger children had been safely and snugly tucked in and Chiron and Mr D. had retreated to Big House, all those involved would gather in one of the emptier cabins that had older campers. The Hypnos kids would place a sleeping spell on the younger kids that belonged to the cabin hosting the party.

And then the fun would begin.

The alcoholic beverage supply was not immense, but there was enough provided from older Hermes campers to get, well, severely wasted.

Luke knew that path hadn’t been your initial idea, but you were well on your way there.

He on the other hand, hadn’t drank that much, stopping after he noticed just how much you had been drinking.

You weren’t usually like this. As a daughter of Apollo you were intelligent and responsible, a trusted head counsellor and a masterful healer. It was usually he causing mischief and getting hurt, and you patching him up and reprimanding him.

How the roles had reversed. Instead of your modest camp uniform and demeanour, you were in ripped jeans and a striped tank top and had converted into an absolute entertainer, lighting up the room. You weren’t acting like a semi-rowdy nineteen year old anymore, but a fully-wild twenty-five year old college student. He wished he was as drunk as you, because it seemed you were having the time of your life from how enthusiastically you were laughing with a random Ares girl you had traded drinks with.

Instead he was the only vaguely sober one in a crowd of drunk late teens playing inappropriate games or dancing. It wasn’t fun anymore.

The games were the only thing that kept him there.

“Ok… y/n,” one of your sisters - he couldn’t tell in the dim light, Apollo children all looked golden - drawled, pointing insistently to you. “Do a dare or spin the bottle!”

He observed as you appeared to think, contemplative as you sipped beer - gods you needed to stop drinking, please - before reaching for the glass bottle on the floor. The small crowd cheered and squatted in a wonky circle, Luke joining them and sighing lightly.

He hated this game. Hated how you would happily kiss anyone. He wished in these moments that he did have the courage to talk to you, to tell you how he felt and sweep you off your feet. And then it would be him you would kiss and hold hands with, and he would take care of you and do anything to make you laugh.

But instead you kissed others.

Finally, after a few clumsy grasps of the bottle, you drunkenly clutched it before giving it a rough spin. It whirled around and around noisily, colours shining off of it, and at that moment he loathed that gleaming glass neck, loathed it with a passion for pointing at everyone but him-

For not-

Pointing at him.

At him.

And by some miracle, by some grace from the Gods, it was pointing at him.

His heart raced wildly and he struggled to breathe as he glanced up at you. You were already looking at him. Your eyes looked golden in the light, and your hair covered most of your face, hiding your expression. He inhaled and exhaled shakily, hoping to calm down as he waited for your move.

You stayed still.

Still.

Still.

Maybe this was awkward for you, he suddenly realised, panicking. After all he was your best friend, of course it was weird to kiss your best friend. In fact you were probably waiting for him to call it off, but he’d taken so long to understand, he was an idiot.

“It’s o-okay,” he stuttered, cursing himself, “you don’t-“

You pounced at him, your lips smashing together. Immediately his mind went blank. It was burning, passionate, fierce, and somehow infinitely better than anything he’d ever guiltily dreamed about as he lay awake. He noticed vaguely that you’d landed in his lap and wrapped your arms aggressively around his neck. He was much more preoccupied by your lips, how they moved against his perfectly. How when you were this close to him, you smelled like chocolate chip cookies. How your lips and mouth and tongue tastes like flawless hot spun sugar. How you were into this, and into him. How all of his dreams had come true and maybe this wasn’t a terrible night.

And then you dragged a hand through his curls and it felt so good he had to fight not to groan, ugh.

“Get some, Castellan!”

“Something’s getting a little hot in here.”

And this meant nothing, he realised suddenly as the catcalls continued, his thoughts returning. Because this was all an act, something to impress the others and make them laugh from your boldness. Luke was just the pawn, something to elevate you higher-

He felt sick, his lips slowing, before stopping completely, pulling away from you. He faked a weak smile, drawing his face further away from yours and avoiding eye contact. He didn’t want to see the drunken humour in your eyes.

“Ok, your turn next!!” Someone yelled, and it was all over.

——————————————

So it stayed, an almost torturous existence before he noticed your eyelids drooping as you sleepily accepted the Ares girl’s shot glass. And finally, finally, he had an excuse to get out of this hellhole.

He walked over, dodging campers all around, before he approached, putting a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“Hey, y/n,” he said softly, “I think we should get outta here. You seem kinda tired and so am I.”

“How did you know that?!” You asked incredulously, spinning around to him in shock.

“That you were tired?”

“Yeah!”

“Oh,” he chuckled awkwardly, “your eyes are all droopy, it’s kinda obvious.”

“Huh. Well, y’know what, I kinda agree. Let’s go.” You shrugged, waving to the Ares girl as you walked with him. You linked arms and he tried to act normal. You two never shared this much casual contact.

“What’s her name?” Luke asked, focusing on his surroundings, as you walked out the door.

“I have no idea,” you replied cheerily, breaking from him and taking a leap off the step. It didn’t end well, with you tripping and falling in a heap on the damp and cold grass.

“Are you ok?” He asked, knelt over you and concerned. You giggled, nodding and accepting his hand as it pulled you up.

“Ok, just- let me- hold onto me, ok?” He said, looping an arm around your shoulder to keep you steady. He held on as you laughed like a little girl and clung to his t-shirt all the way to your cabin.

The stars were nice tonight. For once, you could see them, like billions of shimmering white dots in the skies and it really added to the peace of the scenery. The air was cooler, there were no people, and it was so much quieter. More serene. He felt as if he could breathe. He glanced at the stars once more as he led you up the stairs to your door, before dropping your hand. Or trying to. You didn’t let go.

“Good night,” he whispered, giving your hand a squeeze and trying again.

Your grip wouldn’t loosen.

“Luke,” you murmured breathlessly, stepping forward, bringing your joined hands to your chest. He could feel your breath, warmth, pulse. Fast. Like his. “Why are you….”

“What?”

You looked as if you were going to say more, but couldn’t find the words, instead stepping even closer, and he could feel your joined hands compressed between your two chests. His chest was still, his breathing completely halted as your eyes observed him delicately, his eyes, nose, scar, jawline, cheeks, mouth, as if he was a priceless painting.

You met him once again.

It was softer this time. Your lips still moved in sync, but it was sweeter, calmer. If the other kiss had been caramel, this was smooth, gorgeous honey. As if you had all the time in the world to dazzle him with your smooth kisses. You probably did. Your hands were slower as well, leaving warm trails all over as they made their way down his back, over his sides and under his shirt, where your fingers traced the hard contours of his chest. He had to restrain the urge to shiver violently at your touch.

You pulled away a fraction, warm breath hitting his lips. “Come inside. Stay over.” You panted against them.

He wanted to. Tiptoeing in with a smile on his face and crawling into your bed, with you beside him? His dream. Being tangled in your bedsheets, waking up with every limb of yours and his twisted together, and your hair splayed over his chest? His Elysium.

But you were drunk, deeply drunk. And if he was ever lucky enough to experience any of that, he wanted to have the real event, where alcohol didn’t influence your willingness. He wanted you to be sober.

“I can’t.” He withdrew from you, out of reach. “You’re drunk and I don’t think you know what you’re talking about.”

“What do you mean?”

“Y/N, I’m your best friend, you don’t like me that way. You’re just drunk.”

“Yeah. Like super drunk.” You affirmed, nodding enthusiastically. “But that doesn’t change anything. I like you sooo much-“

No. Luke wouldn’t hear this. After liking - maybe even loving - you for this long, your drunk, confused notions would hurt him too much. He refused to listen.

“C’mon let’s get you to bed so your hangovers not too bad.” He interrupted, taking your arm and leading you into the cabin. “We’ll talk about this later.”

Needless to say, you would never talk about it again if it was up to him.

He left quickly, once you were tucked in, before you could give him a response, with a hurried ‘goodnight’.

Once he was tucked comfortably in his own bunk in cabin 11, he pondered the night’s events. A whole lot of drinking. Stupid games. Not one, but two kisses. Even if they meant… nothing. They were nice either way, and probably the only two he would ever get from you.

————————————————-

The next day, he admitted, was a disaster on his behalf.

He’d had a strong plan to pretend nothing had ever happened. And then while he was getting dressed, four of his siblings wolf-whistled and smirked when they saw him. Clearly not something everyone had forgotten.

And when he saw you at breakfast, wincing slightly and looking drowsy, the moment your eyes had flashed to his, all he could think about were the kisses. He couldn’t see straight, and stumbled while he grasped his breakfast tray, and before he knew it, he hadn’t even said hello to you.

The avoidance gradually increased. After breakfast, he steered clear of you, going straight to his class with younger demigods. He didn’t make an effort to accompany an injured camper to visit you, instead sending one of their friends with them. And during lunch, where he’d usually visit you at the infirmary and bring food, he stayed at Hermes table, with nervous feet rooted to the floor.

He could tell by dinner, you were confused, hurt even, from the glances you were sending to him. And he wanted to go over, make it up to you by sitting beside you and telling you one of the Stoll’s latest schemes, but he just couldn’t bring himself to do so. It was like he was a shy toddler all over again, clinging to his mother’s leg, and he was so embarrassed for it.

That night, he swore the next day he would be better about everything. Be honest, available and just see how things would go from there. You guys had been through anything. Surely you couldn’t let each other down for this.

He woke early, with a clear mind and went to retrieve breakfast for him and you. Finding you in the infirmary, rolling bandages, he took a deep inhale before stepping in, ready.

“Hey,” he greeted, cringing a little at himself as you dropped the bandage in surprise, and watching as it rolled all over the umber planks in white streaks.

“Oh, uh, hey,” you replied, scrambling to pick it up and sending him a distracted smile. Not the greatest start, but he could improve.

“Sorry I haven’t been around. Been busy, around the place with new campers, y’know,” he lied, feeling guilty, “funny, haven’t actually seen you since we-“

“Hung out at the party?” You interrupted, nodding.

What? Hanging out? Just hanging out did not qualify ignoring him till the party was over and then two kisses and an almost-confession.

Unless you didn’t want to acknowledge the truth. Apparently, this was the case.

“…. Yeah.” He hesitantly agreed, searching your eyes for any signs you might want to take back what you said.

You wouldn’t even meet them.

“Anyway,” he placed the plate down on the bench, faking a smile, “here’s breakfast. Have a great day.”

And as he walked out, disappointed that you had let him down, he couldn’t help but wonder how things would’ve turned out differently if you had been sober.

How he wished you had been sober.

[eddiazx]

the bolter - evan buckley x reader

Buck doesn't mean to stare.

He had decided to grab a beer at the bar near his apartment to take the edge off the chaotic 12-hour shift he had just finished. He had planned to have the singular beer before calling it an early night, since he did have another shift the next morning.

But Buck couldn't help that his eyes kept being drawn to you. You were seated on the opposite end of the bar. The way your red lips moved, the way your eyes shined bright, and the exaggerated hand gestures you were making trying to recount a story has had Buck infatuated with you for the past hour.

Despite his observations, he didn’t approach you like he would’ve in the past. To Buck’s surprise, it’s you that approaches him. You saunter over, drink in hand, and slide into the stool next to him. Buck is immediately taken with how good you smell, your teasing smile and mischievous eyes even more prominent now that you were in front of him. You rest your cheek on one palm and look at him expectantly, before asking,

“Are you going to ask me to get out of here or are you just going to continue staring all night?”

Buck laughs, feeling his cheeks and ears get warm at your directness. He liked it. He was in trouble.

“Depends. What would your answer be if I did ask you?”

You respond by putting your hand in his and pulling him out of the bar.

Buck takes you back to his place. Buck is obviously no stranger to sex, but he can undoubtedly rank this night with you as one of the best experiences of his life. You both fall asleep on his bed hours later, your head on his sweaty chest. Buck drifts to sleep with a satisfied smile, eager to make you breakfast tomorrow and properly get to know you. He knows that he is jumping the gun, but he couldn't help dreaming of a potential future with you.

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

The next morning, Buck wakes up to emptiness, the only evidence of last night the rumpled sheets and the lingering scent of you in the air. You’re no where to be found and you hadn’t exchanged numbers in your lustful haze. Buck tries not to be disappointed; one night stands were coined that for a reason. However, he couldn’t help the hollow feeling in his chest; he really thought this thing with you was going to end differently. He temporarily sets aside his dismay and focuses on the fact that he has a shift in two hours.

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

“Alright team, we have a new recruit joining us today! Welcome them to the 118!” Bobby announces to the team, a few minutes into the shift.

Buck turns away from washing the fire engine to greet them, but when he does, his jaw, and the cloth that he was holding, drops.

Buck and you make eye contact, mirroring expressions of shock.

[forgedroyalseal]

Song Fic Drabbles Part 4

When all you wanted was to be wanted

Will had always known he wasn’t enough. He wasn’t smart enough to be a diplomat or disciplined enough to be a scribe. And despite it being his one goal in life, the thing that kept him going through the cold, lonely years in the ward, he wasn’t tall or strong enough for battleschool. Will remembered the way his heart sank on his choosing day. How he was forced to stand in front of his peers, the Baron, the craft masters, and be told he wasn’t good enough. That he wasn’t wanted. That he was destined to a pitiful and meaningless life. But then, like a miracle from the heavens, Halt found him. He told him he could be enough, that he was wanted. So Will worked and trained harder then he thought possible, determined to prove to Halt he was enough, that he deserved to be wanted. And it worked. He was able to overcome every test and trial thrown his way. He made a name for himself. He had the potential to go down in history. He was enough. He was wanted.

Until he wasn’t.

“How could you be so stupid? So selfish? Do you have any idea what a disaster you’ve made Will?”

Will didn’t know how Halt still had the energy or the voice to continue yelling at him. He and Crowley had been at it for over an hour and were showing no signs of stopping.

“I know, I’m sorry. If you’d just let me explain-“ Will repeated for what felt like the hundredth time, and just like every time before, he was shot down.

Crowley huffed out a mocking laugh. “We don’t want your apologies or excuses Will! We want you to-“

“Leave.” Halt was no longer shouting and Will would have done anything to go back to being yelled at. Because that single, cold, level word cut Will deeper than any amount of yelling could do.

“What?” He whispered.

“We want you to leave. Now.”

“But, Halt please-“

“Get out of here Will. Crowley and I need to clean up your mess. As of now, you are on suspension. Once we get this sorted, we’ll figure out what to do with you.”

Will nodded slowly, blinking back the stinging behind his eyes. Just as he had one foot out of the door, Crowley called out to him. For a moment, his hope flickered. But then it was blown out just as quickly.

“Will, we’ll need to hang on to your oak leaf for the time being.”

When Will dropped the chain and pendent into Crowley’s open palm, he felt as though he was leaving his entire heart behind.

On shaking legs he made his way back to the guest room he was staying in. He tried not to cry. He did anyways. He fell to his knees and sobbed, body curling into itself. His chest burned and his head ached and he felt as if he was coming apart at the seams. Everything he had done, had worked for, was going to be torn away from him because of one stupid, selfish mistake. He hadn’t done enough and soon everyone would know and no one would want him. Will groped around his neck for his pendent, the one thing that could ground him in moments like these, but then he remembered that it was gone, discarded on Crowley’s desk as if it wasn’t the one thing, the only thing, that proved Will had been wanted. That someone had decided he was good enough. As he spiraled, his nails dug into his arms, clawing at his biceps until hot pools of blood bubbled up. A sob got caught in his throat and suddenly he couldn’t breathe. The knot in his chest was being pulled tighter and tighter and-

“Will! Will it’s ok, please just breathe.” A faceless voice called out but Will couldn’t make sense of the words.

Warm hands fell on his, gently guiding them away from his torn skin and onto a steady beating heart. “Breathe Will, just like me. Follow my breath.” Will tried, and after every failed attempt, the voice reassured him then asked him again. “Just keep trying Will. It’s going to be ok. Just keep trying.”

Will wanted to scream that all he ever did was try, but he didn’t have the air or the strength so instead he just let out a pathetic whimper. “I know it’s hard, I’m sorry. You’re doing so good.”

Eventually, slowly, oxygen found its way back into Will’s lungs. Will inhaled greedily, desperately trying to fill his burning lungs.

“There you go, deep breaths, it’s ok. You’re ok.” The oxygen made its way up to his head and he was finally able to place the comforting voice and steady hands.

“Gil.” He gasped.

“I’m right here Will.” One of his hands came around to Will’s back and began rubbing circles between his shoulders. “What happened? Tell me who I need to go beat up?”

“They don’t want me. It’s all gonna go away.” Will cried as he buried his face into Gilan’s chest.

“Who? What’s going away?”

“The Corps. What am I if not a ranger? I can’t do anything else. No one will want me.”

“Ok, I don’t know what happened, but I promise you, the Corps want you. They need you.”

“Not after this.”

Gilan pulled back just enough to look Will in the eye. “Tell what happened.”

[crushribbons]

𝖇𝖎𝖗𝖉𝖎𝖊, 𝖕𝖙. 𝖎𝖎𝖎

summary: Sebastian Sallow is an unusually skilled legilimens, it turns out. (series masterlist)

cw: 5.3k words, S M U T (18+ ONLY), implications of dub-con!, on that inception-type shit, penetrative sex, oral sex (f receiving), sebastian sallow i know the little shit you are, fem/afab reader. requests open

a/n: alexa play it ain't over by the black keys cuz.........xx laney

There was nothing else to be done.

At least, that was what Sebastian told himself. It had reached a point of total hopelessness.

There was nothing else to do except take her to bed.

He was already being driven mad by love and lust in equal measure when he ran into her outside the prefects’ bathroom, and the sight of her exposed, flushed chest when her dressing gown slipped down had sent him over the edge. Barreling along the corridor after she ran away from him with a cry of disgust and frustration, he hoped against all hope that his pajama pants weren’t putting his achingly hard cock on too much of a display. He pressed his towel over his waist and sprinted past the fifth year that was lamely scolding him for not heading back to his dormitory at this hour. 

The library wasn’t open to the general student populous at night, per se, but Sebastian had always found limitations like timetables and hours of operation to be, well, limiting. He cast the charm for disillusionment over himself and strode past the two prefects who were flirting in front of the quietly splashing fountain.

He’d clocked the book that he snuck out of the library with only minutes later’s existence a few months earlier, on another nighttime venture through the Restricted Section. While running his fingertips idly across the spines that made up the Legilimency section, the shining foil on one tome had made his hand freeze. Legilimency and the Dreamer: Infiltrating the Sleeping Mind, for the Beginner. 

When he’d first seen it, a pang of guilt and shame had shot through Sebastian as his mind immediately conjured up one perfect use for the lessons taught in that book. At the time he’d fled the library to stop himself from picking it up, proud of himself for exhibiting self-control and respecting the friend that plagued his own dreams. He had resolved with solid determination to never remove that book from the library or read its contents.

But then she’d gone and worn that dressing gown. 

Faded, old cotton sliding off her perfect, porcelain-smooth shoulders while he gaped at her newly-exposed chest; the encounter hadn’t gone quite as he would have liked, but it was still causing blood to rush southward in his body as he exited the library wing and wove downstairs to the Slytherin dormitories, the book heavy under his arm. He tried to hide the title with his sleeve. The common room was blissfully empty, save for a few stragglers hunched over parchment and scribbling the tips of their quill down to the blunt. He ran up the stairs, pushing the door to his shared bedroom open quietly so as not to disturb anyone that was already asleep. The only sound was soft breathing, sighing, and snores, so he exhaled a small puff of relief and stowed his towel back in his trunk.

Curtains slid shut around his four-poster bed, Sebastian relaxed against his satin pillowcase, propping himself up on his elbows. The dormitory was darker than usual, as the moon that always filtered in through the windows was obscured by clouds tonight, so he muttered, “Lumos!” and opened the book that he’d expressly told himself he should never pick up. It would be wrong. She can’t control what happens in a dream. It’s a violation of trust. I should wait until the perfect moment and just tell her. I should not read this book.

But, there really was nothing else to be done.

Sebastian had to have her, he was sure of it, or he’d die. Until their awkward, semi-nude encounter in the Slytherin corridor, he had never seriously considered anything happening between them. But since then, she’d been behaving strangely around him. Ominis was convinced that she was attracted to Sebastian, but the latter knew better than that. 

“She’s just embarrassed about seeing me in a towel,” he told Ominis as the two brushed their teeth two mornings after the incident. “You should have seen how she laughed at me.”

Ominis leaned over the sink and spat toothpaste into it. “Sure she wasn’t all…flustered about it?”

“Flustered?”

“You know how girls get.”

“You sure you do?”

The next time he saw her, Sebastian was quick to joke about the situation and set everything as usual once more. When she wiggled her eyebrows at him while Amit Thakkar burst into an unnecessarily-lengthy explanation of Gamp’s laws of transfiguration, he thought she seemed grateful for the normalcy between them. Grateful, and beautiful. 

Fuck. It appeared his crush wasn’t going to be tempered by mere humiliation.

And now, the sight of her sweet skin peaking out at him as she blushed so prettily had pushed him to the brink. If he’d been struggling to be near her the past few weeks, it was nothing compared to the raging maelstrom of sexual tension he’d been weathering since passing her in the hall. He was taking her to bed. One way or another. 

Lust flooded his brain as he flipped through the pages of Legilimency and the Dreamer. The book was dry and dull, and Sebastian felt his eyes drifting closed even in the wake of his impure thoughts. History and theory, two of his greatest adversaries, were abundant throughout the first few chapters, and he had almost given up, when his eyes fell upon the title of chapter five: Entering the Sub-conscious.

When planning a sub-conscious infiltration, it is important to understand first whether or not you have been given consent by the sleeping party.

Sebastian swallowed, guilt thick in his throat.

"If you have obtained consent, then you are ready to follow the simple guidelines outlined here to decipher and demystify the nightmares of your clients. First, and most crucially, your subject must be sleeping in a place they find comfortable. This author recommends conducting a legilimency session from the safety of the dreamer’s own bedroom."

He thought of her, sound asleep by now in her dormitory, that same angelic expression she’d had on her face when she slept on his shoulder through an entire Transfiguration class in place. She smiled, just a hint of a smirk, when she slept. 

"Next, physical contact with the dreamer will aid you in your attempt to penetrate their thoughts. The sleeping mind, though at rest, utilizes just as many defensive tactics as the awake. If a session must be conducted remotely, a physical token of the dreamer’s or portrait of them can act as an acceptable substitute. The legilimens may still encounter difficulty, however."

Well, he certainly did not have a portrait of his desired stuffed into his trunk. Sebastian glanced bleakly at the sheets around him, hoping a sock or shoe of hers would appear by magic. No such luck. He almost returned to reading when he remembered what was currently sitting in the drawer of his bed-side table, tucked with care into an empty chocolate frog box. Sticking his head out of the curtains for a moment, he rummaged around in the drawer until he felt the box and pulled it open to reveal the tiny note she’d sent him by owl on the night the entire fiasco began. 

A little birdie told me he liked cherry tart, so I saved him some. I’ll bring it to you in a bit. 

He closed his fist around the parchment and shut himself up in his bed once more. Birdie. He couldn’t bear to hear her call him that anymore. Not when the only way he could fall asleep now was to wrap his hand around his cock and huff her name under his breath. Not when all his dreams lately ended with her weeping out the nickname he used to love as she came undone around him. Not when–He realized as he leaned back over the book that he was panting a little. In anticipation or triumph, he wasn’t sure.

"It is important to note that, just as a legilimens can manipulate the content of the dream they enter, so, too, can they manipulate their own appearance. Consider taking a form or otherwise altering your appearance in a way that will put the sleeping subject at ease. If the sub-conscious detects an unfriendly presence, it may block itself from you entirely. When you are ready to begin your dive into the sub-conscious, situate yourself somewhere comfortable and close your eyes, picturing the face of the dreamer and pointing your wand at them (or at the object you are using in place of physical contact).*"

The asterisk at the end of the sentence drew Sebastian’s eye to the bottom of the page, where the author had left an aside:

"Author’s note: As already discussed at length here, legilimency is a difficult and fickle art for most to grasp. Without a natural proclivity for it, the aspiring legilimens may find themselves frustrated by lack of progress. Use consistent practice to improve your infiltration and dream-deciphering skills."

 He laid down in his bed, pointed his wand at the little scrap of paper pinched in his fingers, and said “Legilimens.” His eyes flew shut of their own accord and the image of her face swam before him, all watercolors and sparkling eyes and sunlight filtered in through stained glass. Even through his intense concentration, Sebastian couldn’t help the small smirk that pursed his lips.

There’s natural proclivity for you, you ancient dust trap.

She was sleeping in her bed, just as he’d pictured, but her expression as he watched her, seemingly through a thick, glass porthole in the ceiling above her, shifted to one of anxiety as she thrashed gently side to side. The sheets were twisting around her limbs and sweat was beginning to glisten on her forehead. He desperately wanted to leap into bed next to her and wake her, smoothing hair off her hot face and kissing her awake from the nightmare. This would have to do, for now. 

He watched her for a few more seconds, then remembered what he was supposed to be doing. The physics of the whole situation threw him off as he tried to get his bearings. He felt like he was moving through cold water trying to reach her, and just as he figured out how to put one foot in front of the other, that foot tripped him up and he fell forward. He clenched his teeth and tried to stick out his arms against the stone floor, but instead, he found himself tumbling head over heels through a massive void. Just as he started to panic about what he’d gotten himself into with this idea, his feet hit solid ground once more. Though not quite stone…and not quite ground.

Sebastian looked at his surroundings. It was some sort of corridor; all he could make out were several dozen imposing doors and the faint swirl of smoke or steam that seemed to enshroud everything. Could this really be her dream? He had been anticipating something light and peaceful, perhaps her sitting in a field surrounded by friendly kneazles (her preferred way to die, she had told him many times). This setting looked far more nightmarish.

“Shit shit shit,” he muttered to himself, his voice reaching his ears, wobbly and distorted, after several seconds. He was still stuck in the thick fog of her subconscious. Regret that he hadn’t read more of the book before attempting this little nighttime visit was clawing at his ankles nervously. What had it said? 

Suddenly, the witch of his wildest dreams dashed right in front of him, ignoring him entirely and sprinting at top speed but pausing briefly at every other door to yank it open, taking note of its contents, and wailing in despair. 

“Oh, no, no, no, no,” she was moaning in terror, her dressing gown flowing behind her as she checked two more doors. The thin linen of her nightgown underneath the robe was sticking to her sweaty torso and showing far too much skin, even through the dark haze of fog obscuring Sebastian’s sight. He watched her mutter “Late! Late! I’m going to be late!” under her breath in a frenzy, and he couldn’t help but chuckle just a little at the sight. What was that Muggle book she’d read to him by the lake that one afternoon? Something about a little white rabbit that was always running late? The comparison was too perfect. 

The white nightgown disappeared around a corner, and Sebastian remembered with a jolt that he was supposed to be following her. He glanced around himself one more time and determined that he needed to be more focused. He pressed his bare feet hard against the ground and his fingertips against the wall, grounding himself, and everything came into much sharper focus as he took a deep breath. Her subconscious let its guard down with noticeable haste, accommodating him with torches along the wall that lit the corridor and banished the fog away. If he hadn’t known better, he could have been in any secret passageway that Hogwarts had to offer.  

He took off down the hall after her, his limbs no longer encumbered by the heaviness that had impeded them before. At the end of the hall before he could turn the corner, he came upon a huge, ornate mirror hung on the wall. It was scratched and spotted with age, but he could very clearly make out his own face, pale and desperate, chest heaving. A line from his guidebook poked at him: “Just as a legilimens can manipulate the content of the dream they enter, so, too, can they manipulate their own appearance.”

Put her at ease, put her mind at ease, he thought, What would she li– 

Then he remembered, with almost a shout of triumph, her expression when he’d come back to school after the summer holidays at the beginning of seventh year. Living at Feldcroft alone during the summer made Sebastian prioritize the work of the estate over his own physical needs, and he’d forgotten to attend to a fairly large physical need before returning to Hogwarts. On their first evening back, his sweet witch had greeted him in the Great Hall with her mouth agape and eyes raking over his entire head. “What?” he’d asked hesitantly, running a hand through his hair. “Is there a grindylow hanging off my back?”

“Mm-um, no,” she replied. Her voice was a croak. “Your hair just looks…different.” 

Sebastian swore. “I forgot to cut it before leaving! Shit! I always try to make sure it’s clean cut before school.” He knew he must have looked crazy, disheveled, unkempt, but he couldn’t understand why her eyes were still the size of the dinner plates on the long tables behind them.

“It–you shouldn’t, um, it–it looks really good, Seb,” she had rasped.

It looks really good, Seb.

With a smirk, he looked back in the mirror on the wall and saw that his hair was now just as it had been that very enlightening day, waves turning into full curls around his temples and brushing the bottom of his neck. He couldn’t even deny the little prick of ego that told him he did look really good. Perhaps he’d lose his shears after this. Some of the color was returning to his face, too, as he set off after her with more confidence this time. 

When he next caught sight of her, she was pulling open yet another door, and he ran forward to try and catch up with her, but felt his heart drop when she smiled in relief and entered the room. “Wait–!” He reached out a hand, but he was still several lengths down the hall from her, and the door was quickly shutting behind her. In one last blind attempt to not lose her, he dove forward and, carried by the illogical nature of her dreamstate, landed directly behind her and wrapped his outstretched hand around her ankle.

“It’s me!” He tried to say, but his mouth wasn’t producing any sound. His vision swam and the torches behind them flickered low, threatening to blow out. She was scared. He tried again to reassure her, to relinquish her ankle and stand, but he was frozen, paralyzed by her mental defenses. Recalling the earlier technique that freed him, Sebastian pressed his face against the ground and breathed deeply, righting himself. The torches blazed back to their full flame. 

Before he could do more than shakily climb to his knees, still using her ankle as support, the two of them were thrust backwards, away from the open door and hurled down the hallway they’d just run down. She shrieked and clawed at the ground while Sebastian tried frantically to yell her name to calm her, though he was close to a panic attack himself. Her subconscious must not have been completely fooled by the “friendly presence” of the unexpectedly skilled legilimens visiting it for the evening.

Finally, they slowed and slid to a halt, but when Sebastian looked up to take in their surroundings, he found them no longer in the torch-lit corridor, but in…

Fuck, Sallow, come on. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to visualize any other setting than his own bedroom at Feldcroft. She had never seen it for herself before, and would surely be suspicious if it suddenly made an appearance in her dreams. Perhaps the hair had been a bad idea. 

But then he saw that she was still heaving shallow breaths, hunched over on the floor, and he ran to her. Kneeling in front of her and grabbing her face in his hands, he cooed, “Hey, hey, it’s alright, love, it’s alright! You’re safe, I’m here, everything’s alright!” He’d never meant for all of this to scare and stress her so badly. It was supposed to be a tranquil dream that he infiltrated, one so lovely and bubbly that the mere suggestion of a fuck from her dashing friend would be enough to send her into fits of rapture. Clearly, she was carrying some sort of tension with her throughout the day, if her dreams drifted to such harrowing places at night. 

“B-birdie?” she sniffed as she gazed up at him, properly realizing who her captor/savior was for the first time. 

“Yeah, it’s me, baby, you’re okay,” he murmured, smoothing a thumb over her cheek and catching the tear that hung there and wishing his cock hadn’t stiffened. She dug her fingers into his pajama shirt and tried to gain control of her breathing. She looked so tiny, so fucking vulnerable, that he couldn’t believe he’d ever thought about–

She launched herself fully into his arms and kissed him. Sebastian’s eyes flew open and took in the Slytherin Quidditch team poster that he had stuck to the top of his canopy in second year. “Fuck!” he yelled, and one of his roommates snorted in their sleep, disgruntled. The shock had shot him straight out of her dream and back to the real world. Before he shut his eyes once more, he cast silencio over his bed, lest he wake up and scream again. 

When he next opened his eyes, she was still kissing him. Oh, what a lovely night to discover that he had impeccable legilimency skills. 

He recovered himself by pressing a hand into the stone of Feldcroft’s floors, and he felt everything sharpen and come into clearer focus again, including the little sounds she was making as she licked his bottom lip. 

“Oh, God, sweetheart,” Sebastian groaned, taking her face in his hands again and making sure her lips stayed pressed against his forever. It was every bit of the heaven he had envisioned. Three years of pining after this woman had set a lot of expectations in his head that he was sure were unrealistic. But she felt just as good, hell, fucking better than he had ever imagined.

He stopped caring about maintaining his composure when her wandering hands slid down his front and came to rest on top of his painful erection. “Fuck, wanted this for ages, fuckin’ love you,” he grunted, embarrassment a distant memory. Why had it been so awful that she’d seen him close to naked? As she unbuttoned his shirt and shoved it off his shoulders, he found that he couldn’t recall. Seemed like she wanted to see him naked very badly, now.

Apparently, she did, because his clothes were inexplicably gone before she’d even reached the last button. “I like dream you,” he muttered as he laid her back against the ground and slotted one of his now-bare knees against her hot core. “She doesn’t make fun of me so much.” He looked down at her, panting beneath him and begging him with her eyes to take care of her. She didn’t seem to be able to hear him very well, the ends of her eyebrows drawing together in confusion as she watched his mouth move. Oh, well. She was enjoying herself and he didn’t have to worry about making a fool of himself anymore than he already had. 

The dressing gown that had set him off just hours ago was wrapped tight around her waist, taunting him. Sebastian did what he’d wanted to do right there outside the prefects’ bathroom and ripped it and the nightgown away from her body. They seemed to dissolve into steam or otherwise drift off her skin as he drug his fingertips down her now exposed form, which writhed with want for him. 

Without a natural proclivity for it, the aspiring legilimens may find themselves frustrated by lack of progress.

Sebastian was grinning when he pulled her legs up, tossed one over each shoulder, and dove into her cunt with his tongue. She gave a positively sinful moan and wrapped her fingers in his newly-long hair. When she felt the extra length sliding through her hands, she gasped, “Oh, fuck, I love your long hair!” He bumped and rubbed her clit with his nose in response, somewhat to elicit another pornographic cry from her and somewhat to hide the idiotic grin that hung on his face, covered with her own wetness. Her taste was so perfect on his tongue, he thought he might weep.

“You taste so divine, I knew it. Better than any fucking tart.” He hoped she hadn’t clocked the “I knew it.” Given that her only response was to wiggle her hips further up his shoulders so his face was pressed more flush against her cunt, he figured that she hadn’t. The image of her, sweet and thoughtful, holding the cherry tart for him outside his dormitory, popped into his head as he ate her out. Merlin’s fucking beard, do I adore this woman, he thought happily.

“You–” She was attempting to choke words out of her mouth as it lolled open with stupid pleasure. “You kn-knew it?” Sebastian only hummed and licked his tongue in a circle in response, which made her back arch. “Was…Is little birdie that curious about me?”

“Fuck, I love it when you call me that,” he growled, enjoying the relief of unloading all his secrets to her in this isolated setting. He’d thought about getting her in his own bed more times than he could count, but it had never gone this well, even in his fantasies.

After he’d made her scream his name three times using just his tongue, he lifted her off the ground and threw her onto his bed gingerly. He climbed on top of her while she reached and whined for him, throwing a leg over either side of her waist and wondering vaguely if her physical form was reacting to this dream as excitedly as her dream one was. Then he realized that he had no idea what his own sleeping body was doing in the boys’ dorm, and was very glad for the silencing charm he’d hastily thrown up.

The sheer weight of sinking into her made Sebastian’s head sag, dropping it onto her shoulder. “Oh, goddamn,” he whimpered. His cool exterior fell away as desperation took over and he whined through the feeling of dragging his cock back out of her. She wrapped her legs around his waist tight, locking him in and making him falter a little bit. His arms on either side of her shoulders held him up, and he noticed with a momentary sheepishness that they looked a bit more muscular than they might have looked outside of the dream. Anything in the name of her comfort, he thought to himself, and a devilish little “Ha!” slipped out of him as he began moving inside her again.

He took his time. It was a dream, he figured, so there were no real-world deadlines to be concerned about while he languidly fucked her. She occasionally would dig her nails into his back and demand he go faster, but he hushed her each time and focused on the way her mouth fell open a little each time his cock brushed her limit. After a few minutes (hours?) however, he found himself unable to maintain his lazy pace, his own needs creeping up on him with wicked subtlety.

“G-God,” she hiccupped when he began thrusting hard and fast.

“No, sweetheart, it’s Seb,” he grinned. 

He leaned down and licked a hot trail from her collarbone up behind her ear and she moaned, a portrait of prettiness and pleasure. Her tits bounced with each thrust and he found himself staring unabashedly at them. She was too drunk on him to even try and cover herself from his gaze, but from the way she was ogling his naked body, he figured that she was alright with a little peeping.

She hiccupped again and huffed a piece of hair that had fallen in her eyes out of the way. “No–ah!” Her hands flew to his triceps and clutched them for dear life as he drove into her steadily. “Nuh-uh. M’birdie,” she slurred. Her face and body were drenched with sweat, as was his, and a drop fell from the tip of his nose and landed on her breasts. “Dirty birdie.”

Her giggle changed course and melted into a moan as he groaned and picked up his pace even more, chasing their highs for the both of them. “Shit, baby, come for me! I’m all fucking yours,” he cried over the sound of their hips slapping against each other repeatedly. She shrieked and threw a hand out, searching for something to grasp onto, but found nothing solid. Then her fingers closed around his run-down antique headboard, and he committed the image to memory like it was a religious rite. Inane syllables were trickling out of her mouth, but for the most part, she’d been struck dumb. Sebastian indulged in the trickle of pride that ran through him at the sight. 

But he hadn’t gotten what he wanted yet, not really. The image that had been plaguing him since he first started harboring this nasty crush on his dear friend. The one that got him dangerously aroused if he even dared think about it. And if this was going to be their only sexual encounter (and there was no doubt in his lovesick mind that it would be), he wasn’t leaving without witnessing it firsthand.

So, just to be safe, he begged for it.

“Let me see you cry when you come real pretty, please? Hm?” He fucked her as hard as he could, and her body shook. Tears were welling up in her eyes. “Come on, I’ll be a good little birdie, I swear.” 

Her tight walls clamped around him, hard, and he gave a strangled yell, his eyes squeezing shut. 

When he opened them, the blasted, poxy, stupid, goddamn Quidditch poster was staring at him, instead of the flushed and fucked-out witch that he wished were still underneath him. He was on his back, panting like he’d just run the length of the castle, the note from her still clutched in his sweaty palm and the heavy legilimency book still open atop his stomach. Exhaustion dug its claws into his racing mind. He hadn’t realized how draining legilimency would be, even if the screwing hadn’t required any real effort. 

Probably should have read one more chapter. He yawned and fell into the first dreamless sleep he’d had in months.

The following morning, he plodded into the Great Hall for breakfast feeling like his legs were made of tar. The few hours of sleep he’d gotten after his little legilimency practice session had not been nearly enough to refresh him, and after he’d woken up, he found the imagery from the dream playing on a permanent loop in his mind. Sebastian realized, as he ascended the stairs from the Slytherin dormitory with a sinking sense of dread, that the dream had been a horrible idea. He knew how perfect she felt now, and nothing would ever compare, he was sure of it. And if she was as happy with the experience as she had seemed to be…

But then, he argued with himself as he poured a cup of coffee from the hog’s head pitcher on the dining table, maybe none of it had stuck for her. Maybe she had awoken to no memory of the previous night’s dream, and the idea of hooking up with him hadn’t taken root quite the way he’d hoped. 

Sebastian was still lost in his own brooding thoughts when someone sat across the table from him. He grunted wordlessly at who he could only assume was Ominis, his eyes still out of focus and staring out the window as he thought hard. 

“Morning,” came a squeak back, and Sebastian almost fell out of his seat when he realized it was not, in fact, Ominis sitting across from him. It was her. 

She looked awful, even through his lovestruck gaze. Her eyes were bleary, dark bags underneath them that indicated a fitful night of sleeping, and her skin was an ashen shade of its normal color. Her hair hung undone around her shoulders. Even her tie was tied incorrectly and wasn’t even underneath her shirt collar.

“Did you…not sleep well?” Sebastian asked, looking anywhere except at her. The eggs and toast on his plate were extremely interesting today. When she didn’t respond, he chanced a glance up at her. Her brow was furrowed.

“Yeah, I think I just had a bad–” Her eyes suddenly widened and her entire face, neck, and hands turned bright red. Sebastian’s insides contorted, nerves on fire. 

“Bad dream? What about?” He cocked his head to one side and tried to play as stupid as he felt. Could she tell? Did she know? How could she? If she’d enjoyed the dream, why did she look ready to jump from the Astronomy tower?

She was stammering. “Oh, er, no…it wasn’t…I mean bad isn’t–just kind of…weird, I think.” Then she finally broke eye contact with him and looked down at her empty plate. “And a little inappropriate,” she muttered.

“Yeah?” Sebastian thought his heart might give out. He darted his tongue out to lick his dry lips. “Inappropriate how?” 

She scowled at him and didn’t answer. He decided to push the enormous amount of luck he’d been granted the past two days.

Sebastian leaned forward, a conspiratorial grin tugging at his lips despite himself. “Come on, tell me! I won’t ask anymore questions. I promise, I’ll be such a good little bir–” “GoodBYE!” she cried, and leapt up from the bench as if she’d been hit with a blast of icy wind. 

Really must write the boring old git who wrote that book a nice thank you letter, Sebastian mused, spreading jam on a piece of toast and sinking his teeth into it as he watched her tear out of the Great Hall with one last glance back at him.

pt. 4

masterlist

[idksmtms]

willow (Cillian Murphy x Actress!reader) - evermore series

evermore series

A/N: I had an idea up on my masterlist about falling in love with Cillian while filming a movie so I just decided to merge it with this. Also I saw the picture of him and Emily Blunt walking in costume on the set of Oppenheimer and I thunk thoughts. (sidenote: I cannot write a summary to save my life) 

Extra info: I never say the title of the movie you guys are filming in the fic because I didn’t really want to get too detailed about it, but then I thought of the plot of The Delinquent Season the entire time lmao (I just changed random things because I’m a sucker for an age gap). Also, we’re pretending Oppenheimer hasn’t happened yet because it works for the story. 

Edit: I feel like the ending sucks but I’m too tired to change it. Sorry. 

Summary: When you met Cillian Murphy on set, you were already a fan. When you left, you were so much more…

Word count: 9,772  (oh my gosh I went so overboard with this…) 

Trigger Warnings: 18+, she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, profanity, age gap, PinV sex, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, toxic!Cillian, like 0 communication between characters, secret relationship, not proofread but they never are (please let me know if I missed any) 

Disclaimer: This is written purely for fictional purposes and for the sake of writing. No disrespect is intended to the real people portrayed/concerned in this scenario. 

Always appreciate comments, likes, and reblogs :)

You met Cillian Murphy for the first time five hours before you kissed him. Despite being cast in the lead female role, you were a rather late addition to the movie. Issues had come up with the actress initially cast and you had gotten a phone call about two months before shooting started to get yourself to the studio to sign contracts and start costume fittings. This was an amazing opportunity, and regardless of the rush, you were excited to have it. You had been in movies before, of course, but this was your first lead role and if you did a good enough job, it could skyrocket your career trajectory. Aside from all the good things it could do for your career, you were simply excited to get to work, and to get to work with such a good cast and filmmaker. 

On top of all of that, you would be working closely alongside the Cillian Murphy. When you were told that he was to be your costar, you had been in shellshock for a moment before pressing an obnoxious kiss to your agent’s cheek. Cillian Murphy was one of those actors that only came around once in a lifetime. He was only in tasteful, and well done projects, playing a variety of the most interesting characters you had ever watched. You had seen Peaky Blinders, Inception, Dunkirk, and though you had no interest in superhero movies, you sat down and watched all three Batman movies just to watch him play a villain. In the few interviews you had done up to now, you had mentioned once or twice that you believed him to be the best actor of your lifetime, someone who was left unrecognised at awards shows but deserved all of them and more (as you walked onto set for the first time, you really hoped he hadn’t seen any of those interviews). So, to say you were a fan before the movie might have been an understatement, but you had worked with other people who you were fans of before, and Tom Glynn-Carney only had nice things to say about you afterward; you could be professional and a fan. 

You had been put up in a hotel the night before you were to be driven to the studio lot, your new home for however long you were going to be filming there, and in the morning a polite chauffeur arrived in a blacked out car to take you there. You felt a little giddy during the drive, as you always did before starting a new project. You hadn’t learnt the rhythms of the set yet, the director’s process, whether it would be a rush of technical work or a more relaxed set. You hadn’t worked with most of the other actors, you didn’t know how they approached the job, whether they were welcoming and friendly or preferred to focus on the job then return to solitude. It was all the unknowns that made your stomach feel swoopy, but you had come to like the feeling, viewed it as a challenge, the beginnings of an investigation to learn about your job and home for the rest of the duration of the project. 

You were deposited into the custody of one of the many assistants running around, and hurriedly walked to your trailer with a warning that you would only have five minutes to put your things down, change into your costume, possibly have a sip of water, before you would be taken to hair and makeup and given your costume. You smiled brightly at her, nodding and affirming her over and over that you understood. Your first actual job on a movie set had been as an assistant, you knew her job was hard enough without an actor giving her attitude, so you simply followed her. 

The area you walked through was like the other studio lots you had been to before, large buildings that looked like warehouses on the outside but probably held the coolest sets or the most intricate technology on the inside. People drove around in golf carts, some assistants sprinted while yelling down the phone, others hurriedly rolled clothing racks between buildings. You could see someone giving an interview in the distance but they were too far away for you to tell who it was. 

The trailer you were led to was in a wide space filled with other trailers, what you imagined the setup area for a circus looked like. It was bland and white on the outside, your name in big letters surrounded by the shape of a star (some intern clearly had fun with Canva) on the door, and you felt that bubble of excitement all over again. You let the assistant open the door for you, thanking her and shooting her a smile as if inviting her to join in on the excitement you felt before stepping in. It was exactly as you had expected it to be, and that made you happier than anything else. There was a small kitchenette area with cupboards and a minifridge. A counter separated it from a little seating area, couch seats against either wall, before a tiny hallway (which could barely be called a hallway) that had the door to the bathroom on one side and led into a little bedroom (which was just a bed with a little space on the side to walk and nothing else). Your clothes were hung up on a little hook on the bathroom door. 

You deposited your tote bag on the counter and went to the minifridge, pulling out a bottle of water and taking a big gulp. Ice cold and delicious. You scrunched yourself up and did a happy little jump and squeal because you were living the dream, and nothing could be better than that. You messaged your parents and friends that you had arrived, sent pictures and a little video of the trailer, before picking up your costume and getting into the little bedroom to change. 

It was a simple pair of mom jeans, well fitted and slightly higher than your ankle, accompanied with a plain white blouse that had blue detailing around the neck and off the shoulder sleeves that ended just after your elbow, something you could imagine a mum wearing on vacation in Greece. It was comfortable, and you made a little note to ask the costume designer where she got the pieces because it may or may not have been the best pair of jeans you had ever worn. 

You were able to take another big gulp of water before a knock and a voice at the door was telling you to get to hair and makeup. The trailer for hair and makeup was closer to the actual block of buildings you would be filming in, and a little golf cart was ready to take you there. You let out a little laugh as you settled yourself inside, chatting with the driver as he manoeuvred around people and other obstacles to get you there. 

It was quieter in this corner of the studio, more people walking than running, less things being shifted around in a hurry, and you felt a sense of calm in the air (or at least whatever semblance of calm one could get on a movie set). The driver stopped right in front of the doors and you thanked him, laughing at the parting joke he told you about a dog getting loose in the lot. You went up the first two steps for the trailer when the door swung open and you had to jump back to avoid being slammed into the wall with it. Someone came walking out with their head down, turning back to smile at someone else who had wished them goodluck from within the trailer. They paused when they finally noticed you, and you opened your mouth to say something but not a word came out. They smiled with a huff of a chuckle, and all you could think was that he was so much more beautiful in person than what any camera could capture. 

“I hope I didn’t whack you with the door,” he winced apologetically and you just took a deep breath in, shaking your head then breathing out quickly and laughing at yourself. 

“No, no, I just managed to avoid it,” you breathed out, giggling because your stomach was suddenly tingling and you couldn’t quite feel your hands (or maybe you could feel them too much). 

“Oh, good,” he nodded, “would not have been a good way to introduce myself. Cillian Murphy,” he held out his hand, smiling and polite, his eyes piercing through your skin. They were so bright, so blue. You blinked then kept staring into them as you brought your hand gently into his, hoping your grip wasn’t too limp nor too firm. 

“Y/n L/n, it is so nice to meet you. I’m sorry, I’m trying really hard to hide how starstruck I am and I think I’m failing,” you admitted, cheeks suddenly burning. You always talked when you were nervous, which meant you always overshared when you were nervous. But he just laughed, a deep chuckle that made his chest shake and drew your attention to it. He was broader than you, and wearing a cosy looking black sweater that you desperately wanted to push your face against and feel rub against your cheek. The sleeves had been pushed up to his elbows and you could see the round collar of a white t-shirt poking out at the neck. 

“Don’t worry, you were doing a good job so far, until you admitted it anyway,” he did that little huff-laugh again and you pressed a hand to your face, scrunching your eyes shut in shame at the bombardment of thoughts running through your head that made you feel brainless at the same time. 

“Alright, well then,” you laughed, shaking your head and stepping to the side so he could finally walk past you (which you thought he had wanted to do the entire time but was too polite to point out). “I’m sorry for keeping you trapped here, I’ll let you go wherever you need to go Mr. Murphy.” 

“Please, it’s Cillian,” he frowned in that way that said ‘don’t bother with such formality’, and waved the hand in the air that was carrying his script as if to bat the title away. 

“Right, sorry, Cillian,” and you smiled brightly because he was looking at you with those beautiful, beautiful, eyes, and watched him walk down the steps, wave back at you, run a hand through his hair that had been styled messily, and head for the door of the first building. 

When he had disappeared through the door, you slammed the heel of your hand against your forehead until it stung a little and made it feel like your brain had moved around in your head, grumbling “Mr. Murphy? Seriously? You’re an adult too, ya know? You can call people by their first names now, for fuck’s sake.” 

Cillian chewed on his lip as he sat in the foldable chair on set, waiting for everything else to be set up, his co-star to arrive, and the director to start dictating everything. He enjoyed these few minutes before filming, they helped him focus in on the set, get into the mind of his character, evaluate the situation and what would be needed from him. But he had a little extra time today, and he didn’t mind either because his mind was a little distracted. 

He didn’t think he had ever been called ‘Mr. Murphy’ by a co-star, and it made him laugh because it felt a little ridiculous, but it also made him wonder if you were just young or overly respectful. A quick google search told him you were younger, much younger, but didn’t necessarily answer the question. 

Regardless, he liked you, thus far anyway. He liked the way you looked, your hair was pretty and you had kind eyes, and you smelled nice, a soft flowery perfume. And he liked your voice too, a little loud sometimes, a little too quiet others, but it was nice. He hadn’t seen any of your movies, but he was feeling positive about you. Perhaps too positive, but he shut down that thought process with a snap. 

The makeup artist was best friends with the hairdresser and they were both some of the sweetest people you had ever met. They chatted with you the entire time, laughed at your story of embarrassing yourself in front of Cillian, comforted you that he was a nice, easygoing man who wouldn’t hold it against you, and offered you the little snacks they had lying around. Your hair was put into a simple braid, slicked down with pommade to control the flyaways you were plagued with, and the makeup was so natural you would question if you were wearing any if you hadn’t been there while she was rubbing and brushing the products onto your face. 

The costume designer had left some jewellery for you with them, and they helped you clasp the necklace and earrings while you rummaged in your bag for your script. The director had come in while your hair was being done and told you about some of the last-minute changes to the script and the scenes that were being filmed. The ‘first kiss’ scene was going to be filmed at the end of the day instead of in two weeks time because of scheduling complications and the intimacy coordinator would work with you and Cillian during the break at midday while they filmed some of the scenes that didn’t have either of you in them. You had simply nodded, you couldn’t have argued anyway, you didn’t have any authority here even if you had a lead role, and just told him you’d look over your script and mark it out. He had patted you on the shoulder with a smile and hurried back out and you had resisted the urge to press your face into your hands lest you ruin the makeup. 

Of course you were a little annoyed, you had been told to prepare for certain scenes and those were the scenes you had prepared for, but as you took deep breaths and rifled through the many pieces of advice your therapist had given you, you knew this wasn’t a problem to waste your feelings on. They would be lenient because of the last minute change, and if they weren’t originally then they would have to be because you weren’t a magician. A few deep breaths and reading your lines for the first scene you would be filming calmed you down and returned you to the necessary headspace for filming. 

You thanked both the makeup artist and hairdresser, then put in your headphones as you slowly walked toward the set. You needed to be in a sombre mood, needed to feel that apathy and sadness clawing at the edges of your mind. Your character was struggling, her life was falling apart and she felt like she had no solution, only minor escapes during her trysts with Jim, Cillian’s character. You tucked the script under your arm as you got to the set, taking out your earbuds and looking around for the director. You met eyes with Eva Birthistle who smiled widely and waved at you, excusing herself from the assistant director and walking over to you. 

“Hello, hello!” She hugged you tightly and you returned the greeting against her shoulder. 

Eva was the only member of the cast you had gotten to meet before filming began. One of your fittings had been at the same time as hers and you both had gotten to chatting about the movie. She was an absolute sweetheart, someone you could see as a mentor for yourself, and you were glad to see a familiar face on the set other than the director, a bonus that it was one as welcoming as hers. She wrapped her arm over your shoulder and led you over to the cluster of chairs behind the camera where Cillian was already seated, chatting with Andrew Scott. They both looked up and smiled at the two of you as you came and sat down on the remaining two chairs, Eva already engaging them in conversation. 

Looking at all of them sitting there, it hit you for the first time that you were the youngest person here, in both age and experience. These were all people who had done multiple movies in a variety of roles, had been acting by the time you were born, and had made names for themselves. A wave of shyness hit you that you scolded yourself for, your cheeks burning as you sat down and shook hands with Andrew. Thankfully, the wave didn’t last, because Eva and Andrew were chatty, and both ready to include you in the conversation. 

You were glad for this little moment, though it took you out of the headspace of the character you were trying to settle into. These were all people you would be acting closely with, yelling at or kissing on camera for the next few months, and the more comfortable you could get with them the better. 

Andrew was sweet, asking you questions about past jobs, the interview process, how you felt about your character, an endless supply of questions, jokes, and responses that made him an instant friend. Eva chimed in with her own stories and jokes, piling on top of his and making you laugh until your stomach hurt. Cillian was quieter, only speaking when directly spoken to or simply laughing along with the jokes, but his simple presence was enough for you to feel warm in your bones and excited at the prospect of acting with him. He was so nonchalant, so calm and focused but not deterrent or rude. While you seemed to learn a multitude about both Eva and Andrew, you learnt little about Cillian other than that he preferred living in Ireland to anywhere else. 

You thought maybe it was better that you didn’t get to know him too much. It would make the intimate scenes feel less personal, less intense. He genuinely was one of the most beautiful people you had ever seen and it was too easy for an actor to fall prey to the emotions of a scene in real life. You didn’t want to suddenly be sitting there after a sex scene wondering how similar it was to the real deal with him. You were here to do your job and nothing more. 

The conversation had quieted down as different checks were done on set and it was almost time for you all to convene with the director to get filming started. Cillian was reading quietly from his script, a pair of rectangular glasses with rounded edges and dark rims sat on his nose as he rubbed his index finger back and forth across his bottom lip. You watched him for a moment, the soft movement of his lips as he silently formed the words. Then the director was calling you all up and you felt like you were being snapped out of a trance you hadn’t known you had entered in the first place. 

“Alright, you guys have had a small dinner get-together at Jim and Danielle’s house. This is a sort of regular thing, every couple of weeks, maybe once a month, you have this dinner get-together. You’re all sitting at the dining table across from each other, picking at the final pieces of your meals. Jim and Danielle’s children are asleep upstairs and you guys are simply drinking wine and talking.” He walked you all over to the dining table and pointed out the seats, sitting you down first next to Eva before scrapping the idea and having you sit across from her and beside Andrew. Once you had all been assigned your seats, he turned to Eva and Cillian. 

“You two have been married for a long time, you have two children, you’re in a place in your lives where you believe you’re simply secure in your relationship, but if anyone pokes into this it’s fragile, and you’re not sure if you’re secure and still in love, or you’re just going through the motions of a life you have lived for a long time and don’t actually enjoy. You don’t question anything anymore, just go to work, come home, kiss each other, cook dinner, have a little chat before bed, and do it all over again, day by day.” Then he turned to you and Andrew. He looked at you for a moment before reaching out, pausing just before touching you and silently asking if it was alright. You nodded happily, and he gently pulled your braid to rest over one of your shoulders, moved the pendant on your necklace so it rested a little more to the left, and pulled one of your sleeves a little further down so just the edge of your bra strap was exposed. 

“You two have also been married for a while, but things are a little different. You married Chris right after graduating uni, most of your adult life has been married life. Chris is older, was already pushing forty when you guys got married. All of your friends are his age, mostly couple friends, and you’ve always felt pushed into this older, more mature role, that you don’t necessarily feel successful in. You lean on him quite a bit during these situations, deferring to him to answer difficult questions or when talking about your family life. Chris takes this in stride, it’s how it has always been in your relationship, even after years of marriage and a child. Chris is struggling silently recently, he’s easier to anger, feels a little distant, but honestly? You don’t even realise. You don’t know what he’s hiding, you don’t even know that he’s hiding anything. Andrew, the weight of the disease, hiding it from his family, all those private struggles, are always in the back of Chris’s mind, ok?” Both of you nodded and as you went to sit down at the table, he beckoned you and Cillian over to the side saying, “just a moment.” 

Cillian stood next to you with his arms crossed, the black sweater still pushed up to his elbows, and the edge just brushed against the skin of your arm. You shivered and stretched out your neck for a moment, a nervous tick, before returning your eyes to the director speaking in a low voice. 

“Alright, you two are sitting diagonally to each other at the table. You guys take the term ‘friends’ loosely. You’re friends because she’s friends with Danielle and you’re Danielle’s husband. You’re friends because you’re both couples who are friends, but you’ve never spoken to each other without your spouses in the room. Ok? But there is a little bit of intrigue, I guess. You glance at each other, not for long, just barely a look, or you meet eyes while one of you is talking to the group. I don’t want chemistry, I want the possibility of chemistry. Jim is laidback, especially compared to her husband. She’s pretty and young, especially compared to the other people at the table. I don’t want to notice anything between you yet, I want to come back and watch the movie one day in the future and suddenly notice that there’s something there, but too subtle to hint at the future affair. Ok?” You nodded as he spoke, feeling yourself settle into that focus you usually found just before filming, no more smile and twinkle in your eye. “Alright, break a leg,” and he was walking back to the cameras. You turned to Cillian for a second and he nodded at you, those eyes that you would never forget looking over your face for a moment before he headed for his seat at the table. You clenched your jaw for a second, staring at his back as he walked away, before shaking your head and holding it up high on your way to the table. 

“Alright, change costumes, change the lighting, we’re moving to the living room scene for the next couple of hours, I need the kids and Eva there, please. Cillian and Y/n, head down to studio three after changing, the intimacy coordinator is already there, you have a couple of hours to get it together before we start filming. Hop to it everyone!” 

You were happy to be moving on. Though you had been in films that took even longer for singular scenes, you were starting to feel stale in that environment and reverting to the exact same routine over and over. An assistant was quick to come up alongside you and direct you back to hair and makeup. 

“Your costume is already there, and once everything’s been changed, someone else will come get you to take you to studio three,” he told you, not once looking at you but rather at the clipboard in his hand filled with typed and handwritten notes. 

“Ok, thank you,” you nodded, watching the assistant nod goodbye before doubling back to find Cillian to relay the same information. You stood still and watched him for a moment, the glasses tucked into the neck of his sweater as he nodded at the assistant. 

The longer hair looked good on him, you thought. It was going a little grey in the places around his ears but you liked it more that way. His cheekbones cast shadows on his face in the dim light, but you could still see the faint freckles over his nose and the very light smattering he had on his neck. You could even see the freckles on his forearms and it made something warm bloom in your stomach. He looked up and directly at you. Those eyes… those eyes you could spend hours talking about, uncaring that you probably repeated yourself multiple times simply because of how beautiful they were. You smiled, something that could just barely be considered a smile with only the corners of your lips twitching up for barely a moment and your eyes fluttering, before turning away and walking out of the studio. 

You ended up changing in the corner of the hair and makeup trailer, both the women standing with their backs turned to you as they organised pins and palettes and chatted away. Your next costume was a set of oversized mauve-coloured pyjamas that felt a little too thin for your liking. You were a little relieved that it was only the first kissing scene being filmed. You had read the entire script twice over, and you knew about the other scenes to come that required a lot more of you. You had only ever filmed one ‘intimate’ scene before, and even that had only been a rather simple kissing scene. While this scene was definitely more than that, it didn’t feel as big of a leap on the first day simply because it cut off after the kiss. 

Your hair was let down from its braid, mussed up with the hairdresser’s hands and sprayed with hairspray. All your makeup was wiped off before they went to work again. Dabs of eyeshadow in strategic places made your eyes look slightly puffy, like you just woke up from a haggard sleep. Purple under eyes appeared out of nowhere and the faintest bruise was brought to life on your right cheekbone. Little dabs of red on your lips made them look bitten and your nails were chopped roughly to look like you had been chewing on them on and off. Again, you thanked the women and in a simple pair of slippers made your way outside to meet with the assistant responsible for guiding you to studio three. 

It looked like a school drama studio on the inside, with blackout curtains hung all the way around, a black linoleum floor and big wood blocks wrapped in fuzzy material pushed to the edges of the room. You would have taken your shoes and socks off outside the room out of habit if you had known what it looked like on the inside. You smiled to yourself at the thought, before quickly shuffling over to where Cillian stood talking to two women who looked like the opposites of each other. One was dressed in plain white pants, a white blouse tucked neatly into said pants, and a cream coloured cardigan. The other wore a poncho-style dress that fluttered as she moved her arms and was covered in dizzying bohemian patterns. Ten necklaces were draped over her chest, anything from chains to rope, and she had a bandana neatly wrapped to keep her hair out of her face. 

“Hi! I hope I’m not late!” You called, stopping just beside Cillian and smiling at the two women who looked old enough to be your grandmothers (the realisation that you would be making out with someone right in front of them was not a pleasant one). 

“Not at all, we were just talking about boundaries,” Poncho Lady told you warmly, reaching out to shake your hand. The one in the cardigan followed suit, though she was quieter, and you simply smiled brightly at both of them before waiting for instruction.

“Alright, give your scripts here and just stand in front of each other.” Poncho Lady gently pried the script from your hand, took your tote bag from your shoulder, and set them both down on one of the wood blocks Cardigan Lady had pulled over. “Ok, so we’re just here to make sure you don’t feel uncomfortable doing this scene, that no one pushes past any hard boundaries, and to make it seem natural without being unprofessional. Now, before you get to it, is there any place on your body that you would be uncomfortable with your partner touching?” You shook your head and watched Cillian mimic the reaction. 

Awkwardness was cloying at the back of your neck and you desperately wanted to open your mouth and make a stupid comment about how it would just look weird in the movie if he grabbed you between the legs anyway, and it took every ounce of your willpower to keep your mouth shut. “Alright! Let’s get started then! We’ll interrupt when needed.” You turned to fully face Cillian, tilting your head back slowly when you realised how close he was standing. He was still wearing the same jeans and sweater, but the shirt underneath had been changed to a black one, the neck perpetually poking out. 

You dipped your head down again, pressing your hand to your face as you began rambling about how stupid you were and how insane it was for you to be asking him to have an affair with you. Your eyes were squeezed so tight you could see white flashes on the backs of your eyelids. Then, gently, he was interrupting you, voice low as he told you that it was fine, everything was fine, you did nothing wrong, he completely understood, you were tired, emotional after everything. But you kept berating, spitting out words about how he was so good looking and so loyal and you were you, a horrible friend and obviously never a second thought on his mind. And then he was cutting you off, rambling in return about how you’re a beautiful woman, and he can’t lie that he hasn’t thought about you, he’s a man who can appreciate beauty after all. But he could see that you weren’t calming down, could see you slowly folding in on yourself in your panic. Then he was grabbing your hand. Gentle, soft fingers wrapping around your wrist, skin warm and making your own feel tingly. You took a deep breath, your chest visibly shaking, and he brought his other hand to your chin, slowly tilted your head back up to look him in the eye with his fingertips. You blinked, eyes big and wide, and he pressed your hand to his chest, covering it with his own. 

The sweater was so soft under your fingertips, and you desperately wanted it for yourself. His palm was warm on top of yours, warm and firm and unrelenting. You tuned into the sensation of his heart, a wild beating, and your face changed to just hint at concern. 

“Can you feel that?” He asked, voice so low it was almost a whisper. 

“It’s racing,” you breathed out, flexing your fingers against his chest so they caught a bit more of the material of his sweater. 

“Yeah,” he huffed out with a smile, and you moved just a little closer, reaching down to grab his other hand and pressing it to your own chest. His fingertips were a little cold, and your entire body shivered, a small sound leaving your lips. Your fingers were slightly threaded with his, and you pressed his palm to the place where your collar split away and exposed your chest. His hand covered so much of your chest, his pinky and index dipping under the fabric, and was so gentle on its own that you pressed it more firmly against the skin. You wanted his fingerprints imprinted on your skin. He breathed out shakily, almost loudly, and your next breath mimicked it as you closed your eyes. It was so hot in the room.

Both of you stood there feeling each other’s heartbeats for a moment, his head dipped lower so your foreheads almost touched. You were standing so close you could feel each other’s breaths against your lips and the sides of your noses just brushed every so often. He gulped, licking his lips as sweat began to build on the back of his neck and the need to rip the sweater off was soaring in priority in his mind. Your lips just brushed each other, cupid's bows just grazing- 

“Alright, so that’s where you say ‘feel my breast’ and begin guiding his hand under your shirt,” Poncho Lady interjected, looking up from the script in her hands. 

You let go of Cillian’s hand and stepped back quickly. It felt like stepping into an air conditioned room from a hot sunny day outside. Your insides were still warm, and the heat that had been tinging your skin hadn’t completely gone away, but you were more awake, more aware. You licked your lips and gave a small smile that you hoped didn’t betray the sudden embarrassment falling upon you. 

You had been in the scene, you had been lost in it. There had been times before when you were acting and when stopped abruptly felt like you were suddenly reentering your body, like your soul had been extracted for a few moments into a different person and then quickly pulled back and thrust into its original form. But this was a different level. This had been you and not you at the same time. You had been doing those things, had wanted to do those things, but you were also being controlled by something outside yourself, being told to do those things. You quietly excused yourself, saying you had left your water bottle in the hair and makeup trailer and would just quickly run and get it. As you turned back one last time at the door, you watched Cillian run a hand through his hair and smile at Poncho Lady as if nothing had happened since he had walked into the room. 

After the door closed behind you, Cillian happened to glance at your tote bag on the block, and saw your water bottle peaking out. He laughed quietly to himself as he sat down next to it. 

He understood how you were feeling. Intimate scenes were always hard, regardless of how many times an actor has done it. Especially intimate scenes when two people have palpable chemistry. If Poncho Lady hadn’t interrupted, he would have kissed you right then. 

Usually kisses between actors were saved for only when they were filming, but he had been lost in that scene, lost in you. Your eyes, teary and pained and so big, were so authentic that it had been easy to fall into his role, the saviour, the anchor. And as you guys had stepped closer and closer, and his senses were bombarded so much, he had lost himself more and more. Your perfume from earlier had worn off, but your skin smelt so good, like cocoa butter body wash. 

From his line of sight, he could see a sliver of your neck where your hair had fallen behind your shoulder. In the moment a sudden, impulsive thought had flashed in his mind, the intense need to lean down and press his mouth to your neck, to kiss it and let his tongue just poke out and drag over the skin. He could even see it now as he sat and waited for you to return, the place where your neck joined your head and the skin went up to behind your ear. He closed his eyes and let himself linger there. 

Then the scene moved on and so did the little movie in his mind. Your hand in his, so soft and gentle as it settled against his chest. Then his hand in yours, your fingertips slightly sweaty and shaking. For a moment he had considered letting his hand stay limp, wanting to see how you would manage to drag the weight of his arm, but that was another intrusive thought that had to be pushed away. 

The skin on your chest was firm but with how firmly you held his hand against it he could feel the slight give of your flesh. His finger had just barely stroked your collarbone as his hand had rested there and he had wanted to move his hand so much more, to so many other places. Up to your neck to feel the soft skin there, to see if he could make you do that full-body shiver again. Down to your breasts, to the delicate skin stretched over them and then to cup them, to feel the weight of them in his hands. 

Cillian opened his eyes and took your water bottle in his hands, opening it and drinking from it as you came back into the room. You looked directly at him and he smiled at the wide-eyed, almost scandalised, look you gave him. He brought the bottle down and screwed the cap back on, putting it right-way up on the block for you to clearly see. He could see a little flush in your cheeks, and watched you rub the tips of your ears with a mischievous smile. 

Poncho and Cardigan Lady didn’t even notice that you returned without a water bottle. 

The intimacy coordinators only made you rehearse the scene two more times before letting you go. They said you both seemed comfortable enough, that you understood what the other person was and wasn’t comfortable with and you were left to your own devices. You left without a glance back and told an assistant you would be heading back to your trailer. She nodded, telling you that someone would come get you for touch ups on your makeup in an hour, and then you walked the entire way back to the makeshift trailer park. 

You only got about fifteen minutes on your own before someone was knocking on the door. You had washed all the makeup off, reasoning that you could simply head back early on your own and give them the time to do it all over again. As you walked, you tied your hair up in a ponytail, awkwardly opening the door with one hand. Cillian smiled politely up at you, arms crossed over his chest and you simply stared at him with wide eyes, blinking stupidly. 

“Hi,” his smile was jovial and infectious, but the one you offered in return felt forced. You felt so awkward around him now, as if you had violated some trust by being so caught up in the moment. “I thought we could walk around a little bit, get to know each other. I think it helps a little bit when filming roles like these.” You paused, fidgeting with the door handle. 

You had really wanted to take a nap, to reset yourself before filming the scene all over again. But this was such an enticing invitation. And maybe it would help you push past all this awkwardness. Maybe getting to know the other actor was better than not knowing. Maybe feeling connected worked better because you had more to think about, more defence in the moment. 

You nodded, holding up your finger for him to wait a moment so you could put your sneakers on and deposit your slippers in your tote bag. He waited patiently, leaning against the outside of the trailer while thumbing through the script. You hopped down the steps and waited for him to take the first stride before following alongside him, taking a winding path back up to the studios. 

“What do you keep in this all-important tote bag?” He asked, eyes squinting in the sun as he teasingly tugged on one of the straps. 

“Oh, heh, just little on-set essentials. Phone, headphones, little snack,” you paused, “my water bottle,” you added quietly, pursing your lips as you watched his smile widen. 

“That’s quite a nice idea, I should think about getting my own,” he nodded as he spoke, and you just smiled. Both of you walked for a little bit without saying anything, and just as the urge to open your mouth and spew out whatever comment happened to be on the tip of your tongue became almost unbearable, Cillian spoke again. “Have you filmed scenes like this before?” He asked, and you knew there were other questions behind it, insinuations. You felt embarrassed all over again, wrapping your arms around yourself and looking straight ahead to the path you were walking. 

“Um, once. And it wasn’t even this intense. I was working on this show, a supporting role with a romantic storyline. I was working with Tom Glynn-Carney?” He let out a little ‘ah’ nodding his head in recognition, muttering a ‘good lad’. “Yeah, it was really small, like a chaste ‘this guy has been my boyfriend for the past two years and I’m just leaving for work’ kind of kiss.” He laughed at that, genuine and melodic, as he looked at the floor and shook his head before looking up to the sky like he was exasperated with your silliness. “And Tom’s really sweet so it went really well, but this has a lot more expectation on it. It feels like going from the kids' pool to the deep end.” You chose to leave out the fact that his very good looks and insane acting abilities made it that much more difficult. 

Both of you paused for a moment, turning to each other in the late afternoon light. He stared at you and you wrapped your arms around yourself again, suddenly feeling like you were exposed to the elements. Slowly, he reached up and pressed the tip of his index finger to your cheek just under your eye. You stared at him, at his lips as he breathed in, and the moment was so slow, so natural, that for a moment you considered stepping forward and kissing him. But someone hit fast-forward again and he pulled back, holding up his finger to you. 

“I’m sorry, you had an eyelash,” he explained. “Make a wish,” he whispered, holding it close to your lips and you waited a beat, looking into his eyes as you leaned closer and blew the little eyelash away. You felt like you couldn’t breathe. You turned and began walking quickly, a rain of dread suddenly drizzling onto your shoulders. Maybe it was a premonition, maybe it was delusion, but something told you that all these moments were leading to something and you wouldn’t necessarily come out of it for the better. 

You pressed his hand to your chest, breathing in slowly and looking into his eyes as if everything you’ve ever wanted was held there. His fingers flexed, just slightly, and you began to move it down, dipping it under the edge of the pyjama shirt. 

“Feel my breast,” you whispered, guiding his hand into your shirt until you could feel it searing the flesh of your breast. He was breathing heavily now, chest shaking as he pressed even closer to you, moving his head so his nose lightly brushed your nose. You tilted your head up further so your lips were aligned and only a little move was necessary to connect them. You looked into each other’s eyes for a moment, thoughts racing, trying to decipher what the other person was thinking but also knowing exactly the thoughts that rain through their head, peaking themselves out into their eyes. And then he was kissing you, mouth slightly open, pressing your bottom lip between his. You moved the hand on his chest up to cup the side of your neck, steadying yourself as he gripped onto your chest and devoured your mouth. And his tongue was in your mouth, delving in and pressing to yours, and you couldn’t breathe but you didn’t want to either and his thumb was pressing against your nipple and your entire body was tingling and- 

“Cut! That was perfect, guys!” 

You pulled away slowly, so so slowly. Your lips still stuck to his a little as you moved away. His hand was almost lethargic in its pace to snake out of your shirt, and you moved your own down from his neck to his chest before bringing it back down to your side. You were both breathing heavily, glancing away from each other then back, away then back before you finally turned away and walked off the set toward the chairs and cameras. You licked your lips as you walked, trying to savour the taste of him. 

The director let you all go for the evening, telling you he’d see you all bright and early on the other side of the studio lot for the ‘second meeting’ scene. You hauled your tote bag over your shoulder and practically ran to the golf cart. You spent the entire ride with your eyes closed. 

You didn’t bother eating dinner, just did your night routine and lay down on the bed. There was a little window in the bed area covered with blinds that had been left unfolded. Yellow light from somewhere on the lot was shining in through the cracks but you couldn’t be bothered to move them. You lay in a state between sleep and wakefulness until midnight. Your brain was buzzing with too many thoughts but you were too tired to think through them. 

Five minutes past one, and there was a knock at your trailer door, three soft thuds. You shifted on the bed, lifting your head up slightly to listen for another one. It came, the person was trying to be quiet, and you slowly slid out of bed. You tiptoed to the door and only opened it an inch. Cillian stood directly in front of the trailer, so close to the door that if you opened it wider he would basically be inside. He was wearing a plain white round-neck shirt and a pair of grey sweatpants, his hands shoved into the pockets. His hair was still relatively neat, which meant he hadn’t gone to bed yet, and you suddenly felt self-conscious, patting down the back of your head as you blinked up at him. He smiled, a small thing that didn’t reach his eyes, and you opened the door a little wider, pulling the sleeves of your hoodie down so they wrapped over your fingertips. 

“Can I come in?” He asked quietly, low and serious. You nodded, moving back and letting him close the door behind himself.

You both stood in the little space between the kitchenette and the door. You felt fully awake now, but everything in the world was still. There was pin-drop silence and you two simply looked at each other. Then he was moving forward, slowly, one step at a time, until he was standing as close to you as he was when you were both filming earlier, maybe even closer. 

Every breath you took made your chest brush his. You could feel your nipples tightening and pushing against your hoodie. He brought both of his hands up to cup your head on either side, then leaned down and kissed you firmly. It was slow, a little pull back and then he was pushing in, kissing you again. Everything inside you was slowly heating up, like a saucepan set on a low fire. Your limbs were filling up with it, there was a lump at the back of your throat, and your core was slowly tightening into itself. Your hands shook and you lifted them to press into his sides, clenching your hands into the soft material of his t-shirt. He kissed you again and again until you were heaving your breaths in and leaning your upper body onto his. 

Cillian pulled away and looked at you, a pause as if waiting or asking, and you simply pointed behind you at the little hallway that led to the bedroom. He nodded, just one little movement of his head tipping down, then he pulled away, grasping your hand in his and walking you both to the little bed area. 

The blinds were still spilling orangey-yellow light into the room, and he simply sat you on the bed before turning around to adjust them so they were closed a little tighter but still let small slits of light into the room. Then he got on his knees right in front of you, pushing himself forward so he was between your legs and your knees pressed into his ribs. You were taking deep breaths in, staring at him with parted lips as he brushed your hair away from your face and kissed you once. 

Everything felt so… small. The room was only the space you two inhabited, your breaths were his breaths, your eyes only looking into his eyes, your lips only existing to kiss his. His fingers gently burrowed under the fabric of your hoodie and began lifting it up. He waited for you to raise your arms then slowly removed each of your sleeves, dropping it into a heap next to himself. You were only wearing a bra underneath it, and he lightly caressed your stomach, watching you shudder out breaths at the sensation. He reached up with his other hand and slid one of the bra straps down your shoulder, touching the little mark it had left behind before leaning forward and pressing a kiss to it. Then the other strap was shifted down, another kiss on your shoulder. Your mouth was dry, your hands shaking. You wanted him to consume you. 

You reached out and lightly tugged on the collar of his shirt. He instantly leaned back and took it off, exposing pale skin and softly defined muscles. Each ridge was gentle, like the artist had painstakingly smudged out any harsh lines. You wanted to feel his body pressing down on top of you. 

He gently tugged your shorts down your legs, waiting patiently for you to lean back and lift your hips up so he could get them off. His right hand moved to splay over your stomach, gently pressing until you were laying flat on your back while his left hand lifted your legs to rest over his shoulders. He slowly pulled you forward until the small of your back was curved to the edge of the bed and all the weight of your lower body was on his shoulders. He looked up at you once, bright blue eyes so shiny in the dim light that you wanted to stop and take a picture. But you only breathed out a little shuddering moan as he pressed his lips against your pussy, poking his tongue out and gently licking between the folds. You clenched your eyes shut, one arm thrown carelessly above your head as you bit down on your other hand. 

It was warm and wet and hot. The room felt humid and your skin burned. His lips were so soft, his tongue skillful, and your hips rolled with every movement, warm tendrils of pleasure moving in waves through your body. He licked until your thighs were messy and you could feel his cheeks stick to the insides. He pressed the tip of his tongue inside you until the pressure at your entrance was making you convulse and the sounds leaving your lips were a little too loud for your own liking. You bit so hard into your hand that you were sure your teeth marks would be there the following morning and let your body quiver on the bed as he pulled away and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. 

You could see his chest heaving up and down and you pushed up to lean on your elbows, watching him push the sweatpants off his hips before draping himself over you. You closed your eyes and fell back onto the bed, letting him spread your legs and drape them over his hips. When he pushed into you, you curled around him. Your legs tightened around his waist, your arms wrapped around his torso and you pressed your face into his shoulder, muffled sounds spilling from your lips and into his skin. You could hear him panting directly by your ear, feel the wet breaths against the shell of your ear as he turned his head to nip at it. He began moving, backwards and forwards, pull and push, drag and rub. You pushed your hips up against him, a little ‘unh’ sound pushing from your chest when the little space below his belly button pressed perfectly against your clit. 

You lost yourself in the pleasure. Time didn’t exist in that space, only the feeling of your insides climbing up, reaching for something that would make stars burst behind your eyes. It was the feeling of the bed sheets rubbing against your skin, the clasp of your bra pressing into your back. It was his skin sticking to yours, your hands digging into his back, his lips on your cheek, behind your ear. It was the sounds of your hips meeting, soft consistent thumps that slowly began to increase in speed. 

And then you were there. The moment where everything was just right. When the weight of him inside you and the press against your clit lined up perfectly. When his lips were pressed against your cheek and somewhere a star aligned in the universe. It was like warm flowers blooming inside your stomach, so brightly it was almost painful. You clenched around him, pressed your knees to his ribs as tight as they would go. You clenched your teeth tightly together but pressed your mouth to his shoulder so all the sounds came out muffled and weird, high pitched from the back of your throat or deep from the pit of your stomach. 

He groaned when he finished, hands gripping your hips so tightly you felt them even after he let go. His eyes were scrunched shut and when his hips convulsed a few times he almost hissed at the sensation. He quickly pulled out, falling down right beside you. Neither of you moved for a long while. 

When your joints finally felt like they would no longer fall apart if you moved, you slowly turned to lay on your side. He was already looking at you, eyes soft and tracing over every feature of your face. He reached out, blunt fingertips gently brushing hair off of your forehead and cheeks. He stroked one with his thumb, then moved forward to press the gentlest, most loving kiss against your lips. You kept your eyes closed even when he pulled away. 

He was gone when you woke up in the morning. You thought you dreamed it for a moment, the most vivid dream you had ever had in your life. But you were naked under the blanket, and you never remembered pulling it up from the edge of the bed so someone had tucked you in. Your hoodie and shorts were folded and placed on the tiny nightstand beside the bed, and your blinds were fully closed. When you shifted to get out of bed, you could still feel the way fingertips had pressed into your thighs and a soft soreness throbbing between your legs. Not a dream. 

But then everything felt weird when you left the trailer. You didn’t see Cillian until you were on set for filming and he was busy with the director until ‘action!’ was called. You followed him after ‘cut!’ but he only sat and watched the scene over or read from his script. He smiled politely at you, gave you a wave when he caught you looking, but made no special effort to come over to you. 

You felt off-kilter the entire day, like a joke was being pulled on you but you couldn’t figure out what it was. But then, as you curled up in your bed after sunset, watching the sky darken through the window, he knocked on your door again. And you let him in, let him kiss you and take you to bed. And in the dead of night he wrapped you up in the bed sheets, whispering little jokes, telling stories, watching you like you were precious. And then the cycle started all over again the next day. 

You reasoned with yourself. You guys were still at work, you needed to be professional on set, and it seemed to explain everything away. He snuck into your bed at night, wrapped his arms around you and kissed you, coaxed you into sleep eventually, but never in the daylight. Not even a touch other than the ones on camera. 

You couldn’t feel yourself getting attached, couldn’t see yourself manoeuvring your life around him until you knew you would beg for him to just take your hand in the daytime once, let you call him your man. You came when he called, followed where he went. You didn’t realise until you were devoted, didn’t realise until the willow had bent to the wind.

Taglist: @4ria790

[wonustars]

𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘠𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘓𝘪𝘱𝘴 𝘛𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘔𝘪𝘯𝘦

Beomgyu Vers. | Yeonjun Vers.

Summary: You find Soobin alone at a cafe after he's been stood up. You can't help but comfort him, leaving you both crushing on each other after. Days later you ask him to study with you, but how much studying did you two actually end up doing?

Reposts are always appreciated/encouraged!! Tumblr works on reblogs not likes, Thank you for your support :)

Tags: friends? to lovers, blond!soobin, nonidol!soobin, university au, soobin is a very smart man, kinda more like aquaintances, the reader is kinda obsessed w soobin, soobin is also kinda obssesed with the reader, a little fluffy? yeonjun cameo (hint hint)

Warning: smut mdni! soft dom/dom!soobin, sub!reader, afab!reader, cum eating, mutual masterbastion (?), dacryphilia, public sex, bigdick!soobin, they have sex in the library..., pet names, cream pie, unprotected piv sex, they also have sex on top of a desk lmao, multiple positons, oral (m. receiving), throat fucking, breast play (lmk if i missed any!)

Wordcount: 4215

Note: you all voted for Soobin so i'm here to deliver! I hope you all like this one as much as the Beomgyu one! comment or send me an ask if you want to be apart of the taglist!! Yeonjun will be next if this one does well :)

happy reading~

Soobin sits at a table with two cups of coffee, except there is no one there but him, and the worker behind the counter. Unfortunately, his date had stood him up for Choi Beomgyu. He feels a little embarrassed and sad, he thought this date was going to go well. This was when you walked in, the bell on the door signalling your arrival. You look around and see that no one else is in here, it was too late to have a cup of coffee but you didn’t care. You’ve been craving that iced matcha latte all day. 

After grabbing what you needed, you’re about to leave until you see Soobin sitting alone. You recognized him from your biology class and you two had mutual friends but didn’t talk much. The window he was leaning against was fogging up from his breath, he looked upset and deep in thought. Your eyes immediately turned to the two cups left on the table, but there was no one else there. Putting two and two together you can’t help but feel guilt stir at the bottom of your stomach. He looks like he needs a bit of cheering up, you thought. 

“Hey, Soobin!” You call out, waving your hand. Walking towards him with a joyful bounce, you reach his table and take a seat across from him. Soobin moves so that his head isn’t leaning across the window anymore. He gives you a half-hearted smile looking down into his lap. 

“Hey y/n, what are you doing here?” He asks you, but he doesn’t sound so interested. Understandably, his mind is wandering to his date who went home with another man. The music of the cafe is gleefully ringing through the speakers, a stark comparison to Soobin’s gloomy attitude. 

“Oh you know, just wanted to get in my daily matcha fix,” you answer with a bright smile, trying to help offset his negative mood. Giving you that same sad smile, your heart aches. Soobin looks like a kicked bunny and you just want to see his cute smile again. His blond hair reflects the fluorescent light and it mimics a halo over the top of his head. You find him so endearing that you want to curse out whoever decided to stand him up like this. There was only one way to go about it, you’ll just have to tell him you know why he's so upset.

“I know you got stood up, it’s a little obvious Soob, but whoever they are, they’re stupid. I would kill to go on a date with a guy as kind as you,” you reassure him. 

Looking up at you, his eyebrows are raised, he looks like you just told him he won a million dollars. He was so handsome, especially with the way his heart-shaped lips curled into the most adorable smile.  

“Really?” he asks, sounding hopeful.

“Of course Soobin, you’re a great guy and not to mention tall and attractive. Don’t let this one date let you get down,” giving him another soft smile, you stand up from your seat and leave the cafe. 

Walking back to your place your mind can’t help but drift back to Soobin. This was probably the first time the two of you spent a good chunk of time alone. You’ve never taken an honest good look at him until now, but you found him to be so attractive. The way his dimples would appear when he would smile, and oh god, his lips. His lips looked so soft and they were the perfect shade of pink too. You’re smiling like a madman walking back to your apartment but you can’t help it. Soobin seemed like such a nice guy, and from what you’ve heard around campus he wasn’t terrible in bed either.

*·῾ ᵎ⌇So kiss me, kiss me, kiss me and tell me that I'll see you again 

It’s been a few days since you last saw Soobin, but he still plagues your mind. A once acquaintance has become a stupid little school girl crush.

 Currently you’re studying in the library for another biology test. With that you suddenly remember who is also in your biology class. A small smirk dances along your lips as you pull out your phone. 

me: hey what's soobin’s number again? 

yj <3: y? dont tell me you’re tryna fuck him too y/n.. 

You scoff at Yeonjun’s comment. Yeonjun being the one to say it is even more offensive, especially knowing his history. Being comfortable with having an active sex life did not mean you wanted to fuck everyone you found attractive. You’re a hot and young university student, sleeping around was not a bad thing. Even though you can’t seem to stop thinking about Soobin in that way, that doesn’t mean you’re lying about needing help with biology. Rolling your eyes, you answer Yeonjun’s question. 

me: no.. just need help studying lol 

yj <3: fine. here. 

*yj <3 shared a contact with you*

Once you had Soobins number you couldn’t help but smile in triumph. Having an excuse to spend time with him seemed to be the best way to get to know him. And maybe lead to something more…

me: hey soobin it’s y/n! i was wondering if u wanted to study in the library with me for the bio test this fri? 

soob: hi! sure i’d love to actually, see u in ten. 

Looking down at your screen; your smile reached your eyes. You turn off your phone and place it screen side down, anticipating his arrival.  After all those days of thinking about Soobin, you’re finally able to spend some alone time with him. 

*·῾ ᵎ⌇so sweet when your lips touch mine

Students have left for their next class and it seems to only be you in your secluded section right now, maybe you’ll even be able to have a conversation in between studying. This would be the perfect time to get to know him better. While anxiously waiting for him you start to organize all your things mindlessly. Your highlighters all in a straight line and your laptop in front of you already on the first page of the lecture slide. This is probably the first time you catch yourself getting nervous about a man’s presence. You weren’t sure what type of student Soobin was but you knew he was smarter than average, so you wanted to look equally as studious.

From the corner of your eye, you see a fluffy blond head of hair heading your way. He was dressed exactly like you, a hoodie and baggy jeans complimenting his frame, making him look so good despite the casual attire. Sitting up straighter you pretend to write down notes. While doing so you hear the chair beside you scrape its legs along the floor. You turn your head beaming up at the blond boy beside you. He gives you that same dimpled smile that you’ve come to love, and your legs can’t help but feel like jelly. 

“Hey Soobin, it's been awhile,” your body is now turning to face him, a shy smile finds its way across your lips. He’s already looking at you and you feel your knees weaken even more. Taking out his own laptop and notebook, he responds. 

“Yeah it has, I'm sorry I never reached out to you after the cafe. I’ve been wanting to say thank you for that day though. You really helped me lift my spirits after a shitty situation.” 

Soobin places a hand on your shoulder, and you can’t help but notice how large his hands are. Your mind starts to drift; now you can’t help but think about what they would look like on your body. The way they could easily wrap around your neck, or how big of a handprint it would leave on your ass. Mentally you’re shaking yourself trying not to let your thoughts get ahead of you. A part of you would be lying if you said you weren’t secretly turned on by him right now. He’s just larger than you in so many ways, feeding into your size kink even more. 

“Anytime Soob, I have a feeling you would have done the same thing for me anyways,” shrugging it off like it's no big deal.

 It was hard to focus on the conversation without wanting to glance at his hands every other second. As he turns back to his work, he lets you know that if you have a hard time with the material you could just ask him about it. Reciprocating his smile you turn back to your work as well. 

After an hour or two of studying you end up getting stuck on a practice question. You peer over to Soobin who’s scribbling down some notes from the lecture recording diligently. If you knew this is what he looked like while studying you wouldn’t have told Yeonjun that you’re not trying to sleep with him. The way he scrunches his eyebrows in concentration while biting his bottom lip was driving you insane. Subconsciously you’re rubbing your legs together, you just couldn’t help but think about what his lips feel like on yours. 

“Do you think you could help me with this question? I’ve been trying to do it for the past thirty minutes now,” you ask him and his eyes leave his notes. 

“Yeah of course I can,” Soobin leans closer to you to take a look at your paper. He's so close you can feel his breath on your cheek. Trying to inhale steadily you end up getting a whiff of his cologne. If you weren’t wet already, you’re basically a river down there now. The smell of his cologne was like soft laundry and a hint of musk and vanilla, it was so refreshing. If you could, you would want to spend the whole day just breathing in his scent. 

Soobin leans even more closer, dirty thoughts are still running rampant in your mind. The unsure feeling of if he reciprocated your feelings was gnawing your insides, so you haven’t made your move. 

Your faces are practically touching at this point, you can feel the vibration of his voice as he tries to explain the question. If you turned your head the two of you would be kissing, so cautiously you keep your eyes on your paper. His large hands pointing to the words you’ve written down, but you can’t hear a thing. The way his hands are moving and how it’s practically as big as your page is making your heart palpitate.  

A pair of eyes now on you, Soobin awaiting your reply to his little explanation. Craning your neck to look back at him you can’t help but look at his lips. Realzing what you had just done, you look back up at his eyes. To your surprise he’s looking at your lips too. The feeling in your stomach tightens and you know this is your chance. 

“Fuck studying for biology,” Soobin beats you to it, he takes your head in his large hands and pulls you in for a kiss. It's a heated, passionate kiss and you moan at the feeling of how good he feels against you. Especially with the way his large hand is holding onto your face. You feel dizzy, everything happening so fast, and this doesn’t feel the same way it usually does. Soobin kisses you so delicately, making you feel like you’re on cloud nine. But at the same time, there's so much passion in his actions and you can tell he’s kissing you with so much emotion. 

Gripping your waist now he stands up, lifting you and placing you on the edge of the empty part of the desk. Immediately your legs open to let him stand between them, you gasp into the kiss as you feel his bulge brush against your clothed core. Soobin takes this opportunity to deepen the kiss; while he works his tongue into your mouth you let your hands wander into his hair, tugging and grabbing it, causing him to groan. 

“You don’t know how much I’ve been thinking about this,” pulling away, a shocked expression washes over your face. You weren’t expecting him to feel the same way you did, and it makes you feel even more turned on. 

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you since that day in the cafe,” you respond as Soobin takes his time planting kisses against your jaw then your neck. Letting out soft sighs of pleasure, Soobin slowly moves back up to your face, smiling into the kiss. His hands find their way to the hem of your hoodie, going under to feel your every curve of bare skin. High on Soobins scent and his touch, you move away from the kiss to pull the hoodie off your body. 

“Please touch me Soob, I want you so bad.” you beg him, giving him an innocent look despite the filth that’s spewing from your mouth. He looks at you with so much lust that you can feel your heat dampen even more. There's a giddy feeling fluttering in your stomach, you were not expecting your study session with him to take such a turn but you’re not complaining. Soobin doesn’t need you to repeat yourself, he’s now back to kissing you with more energy than before. While he’s kissing you he places his hands over your bra cladded chest, feeling you up as much as he can. You’re moaning into his mouth again, not caring about who can hear. 

Moving his hands to your back, he unclasps your bra, swifty removing the material from your body. He takes one of your nipples into your mouth, swirling his tongue and using his teeth to lightly nip at your hardened bud. He doesn’t leave your other breast unattended, giving it the same amount of attention as the other. Hands in his hair again, gripping onto him for stability and out of pleasure. Reluctantly pulling away, he can't help but admire the sight before him. You look so good, your eyes lidded with lust and your lips are swollen from kissing him. He's so hard he could cum just looking at you, then you say something that almost actually made him cum in his pants. 

“Can I suck your dick?” you ask so politely, how could he refuse? Nodding his head his mouth dry with anticipation; while you’re already hopping off the desk and lowering yourself on your knees. Soobin convinced he really could cum untouched, especially with the way you’re looking up at him. This angle of you is just simply so addicting. He’s thinking about whether or not he’ll get to look at you from this angle again. The thought of it making his stomach tighten with excitement.

Cautious with your movements you slowly removed Soobin’s pants. His boxers followed and they pooled to his ankles. When you say he’s big it's almost an understatement, his dick slapping against his stomach as you set it free. The gasp you let out doesn’t go unnoticed and Soobin smiles down at you while gathering your hair into a makeshift ponytail. You take his length into your hands and rub the precum over his tip. A groan comes out of Soobin’s mouth, his head falling back, gripping your hair tighter. You’re smiling to yourself, enjoying the way he looks as you pleasure him. 

“Fuck you’ve barely touched me and I already feel like I’m gonna cum,” his voice straining, another groan leaves his lips as you gather spit to lubricate his cock. Teasingly you pepper kisses onto his tip, his hands raking through your hair, holding onto you tighter. You decide to take your time, relishing in the way his eyes scrunch closed as you give his cock kitten licks. 

“Baby I can’t take this anymore, gonna fuck your mouth okay?” before you could say anything your mouth is filled with his dick. A muffled moan comes out of you, his hold on you like a vice. Soobin moves his hips back and forth, your throat trying to take all of him. The tip of his member is hitting the back of your throat, and his eyes are rolling to the back of his head as he feels you gag on him with each thrust. You could feel every vain on your tongue and the way his length is twitching in your mouth, seconds away from release. 

“I really don’t wanna cum like this,” Soobin says as he removes his still hard cock from your mouth. You get up from your knees, giving him a kiss on the lips before stepping back to take off your jeans. He’s watching you while stroking himself, and you feel your core dripping wetness down your inner thigh. Sitting back on the table, you lock your eyes with his. The look hes giving you makes you want to let him fuck you for everyone to hear. It was a miracle you two didn’t get walked in on yet. You open your legs, your hand travelling to play with your clit. Then you insert two fingers inside your wet cunt, pumping in and out. The sound of your sopping heat is making Soobin go feral, especially with the gaze you’ve set on him while you finger yourself.

“Fuck me Soob, please?” you ask so sweetly almost as if you’re asking for the most mundane request. As if you’re asking for anything but to get fucked by him right now. He groans as he watches you take your fingers out of yourself; you then bring your fingers up to your mouth, sucking on them with your eyes still trained on Soobin’s cute face. Still stroking himself, while making his way to you; he looks at you so mesmerized by how dirty you are, and fuck it’s such a turn on. He never imagined you in this way until the night of the cafe. His seemingly innocent crush turned into something more. 

“Be carful what you ask for love, because I’m gonna fuck you till you’re crying for me to stop.” he says at a volume barely above a whisper, his breath fanning your ear. You can’t help but whisper an equally filthy response, your arms now around his neck. 

“I want your cock inside me, want you to see your cum dripping out of me after,” you moan into his ear and he strokes himself up and down your drenched slit, your legs wrapped around his hips tightly.  Without a second to spare he pushes himself inside, a moan leaving his lips as he slides in inch by inch. The breath is knocked out of your lungs, you feel all of him fill you up, and he's not even in all the way yet. 

“Feels so good Soob,” the words are falling out of your mouth in moans, the feeling of him inside you overwhelming your senses. He starts to thrust into you with merciless speed, the sound of skin slapping echoing within the empty library. At this moment you don’t care about who can hear you, all you can think about is how good Soobin’s cock feels inside you. 

“Y-you’re so tight sweetheart, gripping me so fucking tight,” hes groaning into the dip of your shoulder and your neck, leaving love bites as he continues pumping himself in and out of you. 

The only thing you can do is keep on moaning while you hold onto his shoulders for dear life. You look down to see his cock slide in and out, a creamy white ring covering the base of his cock. It turns you on even more, your cheeks blushing at the sight. Suddenly you feel a loss of contact, Soobin has taken himself out of you, he’s breathing heavily while sweat starts to form on his forehead. Before you could whine about it, he takes you off the desk flipping you over. He forces you to spread your legs before shoving his cock back inside you. 

Even though you yelp at the sudden push into your wet pussy, you relax as the pleasure starts to come over you once again. Soobin loves the sound of your insides squelching from the way his dick is fucking you. Especially loving the feeling of his tip kissing your cervix with each thrust. He doesn’t know how much more he can take but he's on a mission to make you cum before he does. 

Lifting you off the desk again he wraps one hand around your waist, the other one snaking its way down to your clit. The feeling of his fingers rubbing circles into your sensitive bud has you seeing stars. Your bent over slightly still, Soobin able to continue fucking you while he gets you closer to the edge. 

“‘M gonna cum soon, don’t stop Soobin please.” you’re crying now, tears of pleasure running down your cheeks. He really wasn’t lying when he said he was going to fuck you till you were crying. 

“Cum for me baby,” is all he says. 

You’re saying his name over and over again, your moans now muffled by his hand. His hand is so large it covers almost all of the bottom half of your face. He’s towering over you making you feel so small. Your eyebrows strewn together tightly and your high is taking over you. Soobin is still fucking you from behind, his own orgasm slowly reaching the horizon. The muffling of your moans and the sound of your wet cunt getting fucked is still bouncing off the library’s bookshelves. 

“Please cum inside me, fill me up please please please.” you beg him, tears still running down your checks. Soobins moves you so you’re bent over the desk, his cock twitching in you. His thrusts begin to get sloppy but his pace is still at an unrelenting speed. Then you finally feel his hot cum spurt inside you, not planning to stop fucking you any time soon. Soobin’s groaning above you, his eyes glued to the sight of him fucking his cum back up into you. Although you're still recovering from your orgasm you can help but meet his hips as he keeps going. 

You’re whining as his balls slap against your clit, it was too much pleasure but it feels so good that you don't want to stop. Soobin is still hard inside you, coaxing another orgasm out of the both of you. 

“You got me so hard baby, gonna have to fuck you again okay?” Soobin’s grip on your hips is even tighter than before. You just keep meeting his hips over and over again, wanting to feel the rush of cumming again. Behind you, Soobin is moaning shamelessly as he continues on fucking you, his thrusts slower and lazier than before. 

You’re a lot more sensitive than now, the feeling of your second orgasm reaching you quickly. Soobin can tell you’re about to cum again because of how tightly you’re gripping his cock. He speeds up slightly wanting to reach his high with you. 

“Mmfph f-fuck,” you whimper as you feel the band in your stomach snapping once again. 

Soobin’s cum is filling you up again, some of it starting to run down your inner thighs. He looks down at your hole once more, your pussy spent and swollen from his large cock. Smiling to himself, satisfied, he finally releases his dick from your cunt. 

“That was so good,” you say as you turn around, taking some of the cum running down your legs and putting it in your mouth. Soobin looks at you with shock, his tired dick twitching even after all that had happened. 

“I would definitely go for one more round but I feel like we’re about to get kicked out soon.” He breathes, a hand running through his hair. You laugh and pull him in for another kiss. He immediately reciprocates even though he’s exhausted. 

“We can always continue this another day, maybe somewhere more private,” you suggest as you pull away from the kiss. He smiles at you with those adorable dimples once again, looking down at you he can’t help but feel warmth fill up his chest. You just looked so good,  hair all dishevelled, pink cheeks and swollen lips. Thinking to himself, he comes to the conclusion that wants to see it more often, and hopefully you feel the same way. 

“Lets clean you up and get out of here,” he replies, kissing your forehead so lovingly, as if he wasn’t fucking you like a whore a few moments ago. 

You both clean up, put on your clothes and pack your things away. Bidding each other good bye with a sweet kiss and a promise to text each other when you both reach home. 

As you watch him walk away you pull out your phone, texting Yeonjun while heading out of the library. 

me: ok maybe I did wanna hook up with him :p 

yj <3: i fucking knew it!! facetime me when u get home

me: okay fine! only cuz ure the one who gave me his number

After all the shameless sex you had, you can’t help but smile shyly thinking about the next time you and Soobin will be able to see each other. 

© wonustars

[wlntrsldler]

ii. and i never saw you coming, and i'll never be the same. | luke castellan | state of grace

sixteen-year-old luke castellan has his first kiss with you, the girl he'd been hopelessly crushing on for the last two years.

athena!reader x luke castellan. not canon compliant, no betrayal. happy ending luke :)

series masterlist | previous | next

sixteen-year-old luke castellan was shooting daggers at annabeth right now while she playfully approached you, pretending to expose his crush on you. 

“beth!” he hissed, making a ‘cut-it-out’ motion with his hands. chris chuckled softly from beside him, too entertained by the situation unfolding. luke jabbed his elbow into chris’ rib, unable to handle two of his so-called friends laughing at his demise. “annabeth, please don’t!” 

that caught your attention. you turned around to see annabeth, a sheepish smile on her face as she awkwardly waved at you. you cocked an eyebrow before tilting your head to see luke, half-standing from the bench with a frozen expression on his face. chris was doubled over in laughter, nearly falling off his seat. 

“come with me,” you placed both hands on beth’s shoulders, letting her lead you to the two hermes boys. you stood in front of them, removing your hands from beth and crossing them over your chest. you playfully pointed between the three of them, “care to tell me what this is about?” 

“i think luke should tell you,” chris shrugged, making eye contact with annabeth. the two of them erupted in giggles and luke wanted the ground to swallow him whole. if it wasn’t for his friends’ actions, he’s sure it would’ve been the redness on his cheeks that gave it away. 

“well, go on, head counselor,” you bit your bottom lip, finding his blushing face completely adorable. 

you and luke got closer over the past two years since he got to camp. he was always around the athena cabin, at first because he wanted to be close to annabeth, but everyone knew that it slowly morphed into wanting to see you and hang out with you more. because he was always with you, the campers got to know him fairly quickly. luke was right– everyone did love you, and by association, the campers liked him too, or at least, tolerated him. 

you were known to be the nicest head counselor, even before you took the position from oliver, known as the best archer in camp’s history, and the wisest daughter of athena. the more luke hung out with you and got to know you, the more his feelings for you developed.

in his defense, it was hard not to fall for you. he’d never met anyone as funny as you. every time he returns to the hermes cabin from being with you, his stomach hurts from laughing so much. you seemed to finish each other’s sentences so the punchlines of the jokes die on the tip of your tongues, but you’re both out of breath from laughing that not finishing the joke didn’t even matter. 

you took care of everyone at camp, even if they weren’t your own siblings. he’d seen you bandage travis and connor stoll up one too many times and let them go instead of writing them up for one of their pranks. the boys would return to the hermes cabin, heads hanging low, with a look of short-lived apologies on their faces when luke asked them about why they had bandages on their forearms. luke pretended not to notice the knowing smiles the two troublemakers shared whenever he would say, you’re lucky counselor y/n was there. 

you were fearless. you were often chosen to be a companion for quests because everyone knew you were the best. you never denied them and it got to the point where chiron and mr. d had to make a public service announcement that you were no longer allowed to go on quests unless it was your own because camp fell apart during the weeks you were away. the first time luke prayed to the gods, to his father, was when you returned from a particularly difficult quest with clarisse and you were in the infirmary for three days.

but above all that, you made luke a better person. you inspired him to always find kindness in everything. you cared so much about your siblings and the campers and it made him open himself up to care for his own siblings. he and chris were inseparable now and luke knew he probably wouldn’t have been ready to get close to other people if it weren’t for you. you pushed him to work on his sword work, helped him understand strategies, and taught him everything about camp. eventually, people took note of him and he became the hermes head counselor not too long after. 

in between all of these things were luke’s favorite moments; like the calm minutes after hours-long training sessions, where you reveal something new about yourself. you’d go on and on about a random story that goes off into at least ten tangential stories, but luke didn’t care. he’d gladly lay on his stomach, letting the rays of the sun beat down on his back until his skin turned red and hot to the touch, to hear you talk. you’d roll over on your back or prop your chin on your open palm and ask him questions about himself. and luke would tell you things he’d never told anyone before. luke treasures these moments in his mind– small, happy memories, like a step-by-step guide on how to fall in love. 

“they were just going to pull a prank,” he lied, ignoring the ‘thumbs-down’ motion annabeth sent his way and the ‘womp womp’ that chris let slip past his lips. “told them to quit it.” 

“tsk, tsk,” you tutted, but there was no anger on your face, only fondness. you looked at annabeth, “i expected better from the daughter of athena, but you’re too much like your brother.” 

“oh, ew, don’t say that,” annabeth shook her head, walking away as luke raised his hands in defense. chris pat luke on the back, following annabeth back to camp to join everyone else. 

“i am offended that she is in her, ‘i hate my brother phase,” luke scoffed, shaking his head. he moved over to let you sit on chris’ previous seat. “i’m not that bad to warrant an ‘ew.’”

“she loves you,” you nudged him, letting your shoulder stay connected to his. “she’s exactly like you, even if she doesn’t admit it.” 

“she’s got the good parts of me,” he replied, looking down at where his shoulder was touching yours. his hand slowly crept to yours, trying not to be super awkward about it. 

he’d held hands with you before, when you’d mindlessly lace your fingers together underneath the table while you were talking to someone, wanting to feel him there, making sure that he was next to you or when you’d hold his hand during moments where he’d get so frustrated with the gods that you had to calm him down. but he always got nervous initiating it.

over the years, he’d grown to be strong and unafraid, but when it came to you, his resolve crumbled. with you, he was just a teenage boy with a crush.

“so, she’s got all of you,” you said, noticing his hand moving closer. you put a hand over his, flipping it over so you could properly hold it. you squeezed his hand making him rub his thumb across the back of yours.

“not all of me,” he turned his head to look at you, “i see parts of you in her, too.” 

“you mean our mom.”

“no, i don’t,” luke replied, sincerity in his eyes. “i mean you.” 

sure, annabeth was brilliant like the daughter of athena should be. she was always six steps ahead of everyone else and she quickly became your right-hand woman when coming up with strategies for capture the flag. there was no doubt that annabeth was a daughter of athena.

but there were so many parts of you, the person she looked up to the most, in her as well. annabeth was more patient than luke. she can explain things to younger campers, and sometimes older ones, a hundred times without getting frustrated that they weren’t grasping the concept. luke had to walk away so many times when he got frustrated. you’re such a hot head, luke, you said to him once, a teasing smile on your face as you ran your hands down his back to help him relax. beth also grew to read people well. she can hear the unspoken words in conversations and know exactly what someone needs, a heightened sense of emotional intelligence that luke knew she couldn’t have learned from anyone else but you.

there were other, simpler, things too; like how annabeth doesn’t tie her shoes too tightly, unless she was training or competing, so she can slip her shoes on and off easily, or how she tucks her camp necklace under her shirt just like you. 

the look in luke’s eyes was intense. you had to look away before you lost your senses and connected your lips with his. he does this often, say things so nonchalantly like it didn’t make your breath catch in your throat. he says these words with such clarity, like the only things he’d ever been sure of in his life were the things he says about you or to you. it made your head spin. 

“so,” you changed the subject, untangling your hands from each other to turn your entire body to face him. you poked his cheek with your index finger, “you gonna tell me the truth about what that was?” 

“what’s that?” he asked, dumbly, trying to act like chris and beth didn’t just leave you alone with him. he pretended to think, rubbing his chin with his fingers, “dunno what you’re talking about?” 

you groaned, dropping your forehead to his shoulder. you felt him wrap an arm around your torso, his chest rumbling as he laughed at your reaction. you looked up at him, temple pressed against his shoulder blade, “c’mon, luke,” 

“no,” he shook his head, face turning red again, “it’s humiliating.” 

“if i tell you a secret, can you tell me yours?” you whispered. luke shivered at the feeling of your breath hitting his skin. he felt the goosebumps rising on his arms that he had wrapped around you. you pulled your head away from him, creating more distance, “how does that sound?” 

“no promises,” he replied, eyes darting to your lips for a brief second. he cleared his throat, “if your secret is a good one, then maybe i’ll consider it.” 

“oh it’s a good one,” you said, mischief in your eyes. there were only a handful of moments where you let go of your head counselor persona, where you’d join the hermes cabin in wreaking havoc on camp.

his sixteenth birthday came to mind. you arranged for a surprise birthday party for him. he woke up to an empty cabin, which was rare, and camp was deserted when he left to grab breakfast. when he got to the dining hall, all the food prepared were his favorites and there was a messily painted banner hanging across the walls, courtesy of the art skills of the younger campers you taught during arts and crafts the day before. 

the food wasn’t nutritional at all and mr. d made it clear that it would never happen again. i don’t know what i was thinking saying yes to an all-day sugar rush, he muttered after the third instance of young kids breaking their arms from attempting to climb up on their cabin roofs. maybe twinkies and salt and vinegar potato chips were not the healthiest breakfast foods, but luke thought it was perfect.

he received his present from you after, a messenger bag for the son of the god of messengers and a compass that always pointed him back to the athena cabin. so you always find your way home, you reasoned. 

luke knew he didn’t need a compass to bring him back to you. his dad gave him the ability to always find his way back home and he was glad you knew that to him, home was wherever you were. on his sixteenth birthday, with you under his arm and the compass safely tucked inside his pocket, for the first time, he was thankful to be his father’s son. 

that look of mischief in your eye always meant that you had something up your sleeve and luke didn’t know if he should be excited or scared. luke pressed, “tell me, then.” 

“i have a crush on this boy,” you scrunched your face up, cheeks dusted with the lightest shade of pink.

he pursed his lips, heart dropping. he knew this time would come. he was thankful that he was spared from the boy talk that you engaged in with your other friends. he often heard you and silena squealing about some guy one of you liked and he was glad that you had other friends to talk to about it because he couldn’t handle you gush over another guy when he felt this deeply about you. 

“it’s the new aphrodite kid, isn’t it?” luke asked, pulling away from you. “everyone is in love with him. even clarisse said he was cute! i personally don’t see it.” 

you rolled your eyes, “luke, come on.” 

“what?” he asked, “i’m pretty sure he’s not even a natural blond.” 

you didn’t know if luke was playing dumb or if he genuinely didn’t realize that you were talking about him. you’d been blatantly obvious about how you felt about him, at least you thought you had been. you were always sitting beside him, choosing him to be your partner for head counselor activities, spent every free moment you had with him, and you were touchy with him, more than you were with anyone else at camp. at this point, all that was left to do was to spell it out for him. 

you laughed, throwing your head back in laughter, “it’s not jack.” 

“who then?” 

“nope,” you said, shaking your head. “you gotta tell me your secret now because i told you mine.” 

“that was like half a secret, angel!” 

“okay so tell me half of your secret!” 

“fine,” he relented, “i have a crush, too.” 

your eyes widened, heart beating a million miles an hour. you knew how he felt about you, but you'd just been waiting for him to say something. “now, you have to tell me!” 

“you first!” luke laughed, reaching out to grab you when you got up. you slipped past his fingers, walking away. “come back!” 

your laughter filled his ears as you stood behind him. you wrapped your arms around him, propping your chin on his shoulder. luke nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck, letting out a content sigh. he tilted his head to the side, his lips ghosting over the skin of your arm. 

you stayed like that for a few beats until he broke the silence. he should be upset right now because you liked a boy and wouldn’t tell him who it was, but it was hard to be mad when you were holding him like this. he looked up at you, a boyish grin on his face, eyes half open, “you gonna tell me?” 

“it’s obvious,” you said, running your fingers through his hair. he purred under your touch, grabbing a hold of your arms to stop you from leaving his side. you weren’t planning to. “come on, luke. use that pretty little head of yours.” 

luke tucked his face into the crease of your elbow, hiding his blush. he racked his brain for anyone else who you could have a crush on, but his mind ended up blank. when he thought of who on this earth could deserve you, he came up with no names. there was nobody who was good enough for you. 

he changed his strategy. who did you hang out with at camp? he tried to think of the people he saw you with. he’s seen you with the boy from the apollo cabin a few times but that was usually only when one of your siblings got injured. maybe the boy from the hephaestus cabin? the one who made his sword? no, you only talked to him on luke’s behalf that one time when you noticed he needed a new sword because he broke it during a particularly intense training session with you. he frowned. the only guy you actually hung out with at camp was him. and that couldn’t possibly be… unless? 

luke’s head snapped up, “do you like me?” 

“do you like me, he says,” you mimicked, “took ya long enough.” 

you placed a chaste kiss on his cheek before running away from him, giggling and blushing like a school girl. luke couldn’t react quick enough to stop you from leaving, too dazed at your rushed confession. when he snapped back to his senses, he jumped from his seat, using all his strength to chase after you. he was thankful for his growth spurt because he caught up to you before you entered the main area of camp. 

he wrapped his arms around your hips, twirling you around, ignoring your sounds of protests. he stared at you as you beat on his chest, hair in disarray from the wind. his lips were in a full-blown grin, head spinning with thoughts of you. you. you. you. you were all he could think about. 

he finally put you down but left his hands on your hips as you tried to fix your messy hair. he liked you like this, soft and shy. it was a part of you that felt like was reserved for him. usually, you took on this authoritative, caretaker role, always having the weight of responsibility resting on your back, but with him, in these secret moments, you were delicate. luke wanted to protect you from everything, not because he thought you needed his protection, but because he felt like he’d finally found his purpose in this life-- to be with you. it was still caused by the hands of fate but away from the meddling of the gods.

“you like me,” he teased, pinching the skin of your hips. 

“don’t get cocky,” you replied, smacking his chest. 

luke hummed, leaning closer, “i like you too.”

“i know,” you whispered, inching closer to him. “just wanted you to confess first.” 

“c’mon angel, cut me some slack,” he blushed, eyes darting to your lips. he ran his tongue across his lips, “didn’t think i had a shot with you.” 

“you need to start giving yourself more credit, luke,” you reached over to cradle his face in your palm. your eyes traced over his features, mesmerized by the pools of honey in his eyes, the pink of his plump lips, “you’re the best person i know.” 

“all ‘cause of you,” there were those words again. there was no room for argument when luke spoke about you. he was sure of it, too sure of you.

“are you gonna kiss me or am i gonna have to make all the moves in this relationship?” 

luke rolled his eyes, “shut up.” 

he placed his lips on yours, unable to stop himself from smiling as you kissed back. he pushed you towards him, wanting to feel you closer. the kiss was short because you were both breathless and grinning. it was messy and uncoordinated with it both being your first kisses. when he pulled his lips away from yours, he placed kisses all over your face, your jaw, your neck, his curls tickling your skin. 

eventually, he stopped in a fit of giggles, lips puffy and pink. there was a dazed look on his face, as if he couldn’t believe that this was actually happening. he let go of your hips but threaded your fingers together as you walked into camp, burying his face into your hair when he heard chris and beth hollering in support when they saw your intertwined hands and disheveled demeanors. 

[honeyhotteoks]

this night together - chapter one (j.yh + s.mg)

chapter one: a safe place to land

summary: you're finally getting your dream job, working with some of the best dancers in the business, but a job change means a break in your healthcare coverage and suppressants these days are expensive. going into heat at the studio pretty much seems like the worst case scenario, but you find yourself in the care of two alphas who won't let you go through it alone. note: reader and the boys are not idols in this fic, but instead are part of the bb trippin dance crew. the idol group mentioned in the fic's name is 'new world' which was one of the early options for ateez's name, and i just thought that was cute. overall though, i know very little about dancing and choreography. i did my best to research what that field might be like, but please know there are likely inaccuracies. also.... i have no idea how healthcare coverage with jobs work in korea and my research wasn't too helpful. we're going with what i know which is often a ninety day waiting period before you get health coverage at a new job, which means reader here cannot afford her medication out of pocket. go with it, for me ♡

warnings: just.... so much smut including: heat, nesting, knotting, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), rough sex, big dick yunho, implied breeding kink (it's omegaverse so ya know), gratuitous praise to make reader feel better, lots of pet names, lots of heat symptoms like cramps, slick, and insatiable horniness.

pairings: alpha!yunho x alpha!mingi x omega!reader

genre: smut, abo/omegaverse, angst, fluff, romance, polyamory

word count: 13.6K

next chapter | AO3

The first sign is the headache, a low, dull throb at the back of your skull. It’s not a full-blown migraine yet, but it might become one and that’s your first indication that your heat is close. You’ve done your suppressant rationing and your bargaining and your plotting and planning, but in the end it’s going to come down to luck if you can make it through the recording. 

You had asked the company about their heat leave policy in the most casual way that you could, still new enough to KQ that it seemed natural for an omega to be asking. You don’t know why you were surprised, but as always the policy is disappointing. Full health coverage only after ninety days of employment, and until then not only are your suppressants not covered any heat leave is fully unpaid. 

You had studied your cycle calendar in detail and tried to map out the dates, but no matter how you drew it or cut up the last of your suppressants to try and extend the effects, your heat was going to fall on or around your first real performance. And it’s not like you’re an idol, it’s not like the camera will be focused on you, but the idea of letting your new crew down two months into being here  is too fucked a thought to entertain. 

Your throat feels dry after the first run through of the routine, unnaturally so, a tight cough building in the back of your throat as you try to hold it together. The minute the music fades you’re falling out of formation before anyone else and covering your mouth with your elbow, coughing dryly into your sleeve. 

“You good?” San asks from his place next to you. 

“Mhm,” You nod tightly, but the cough is lodged in your throat, “I just need to,”

A bottle of water is pushed into your hand and you nod in thanks, unscrewing the cap fast and knocking it back, letting the cold water soothe your throat. 

“Are you sick, y/n?” San crosses his arms to appraise you better, ducking his head and getting a good look at you. 

“No, no,” You take a deep breath now that you can and shake your head, “just dry, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to slow us down.” 

“Let’s take five,” Yunho announces from the front. 

You take another sip of water and the group starts to break apart. The cool bottle keeps you grounded and as far from anxiety as you can possibly get with the knowledge of this hanging over you. 

“You good?” Yujin, one of the few other female BB Trippin dancers, asks, her chest heaving as she jogs up to you. 

“Yeah, yeah,” You assure her, “I just need a minute,” 

She squeezes your shoulder before moving past you, and you lean back against the wall nearby before taking a deep breath. Your eyes go unfocused towards the mirror as you collect yourself, drinking more water and hoping that no one’s upset with the delay. You’re still new here, but so far you’ve been accepted into the fold well, only a few of the dancers more aloof, so focused on the work you haven’t had a chance to try and make friends. You hope they aren’t upset at your sudden need for a break right on the first run through on the big day. You feel hot eyes on you, and you focus, catching Minseok in the mirror. He’s always pleasant and polite, but never overly friendly, and when you catch his gaze momentarily you see that his jaw is tight and his throat jumps like a spasm as he swallows and averts his eyes from yours. 

Your brow knits in confusion, but Yunho appearing next to you breaks the brief moment of concentration and you turn towards him. 

His eyes are soft, but his face is still serious and wired into work, “You sure you’re good?” 

“Definitely,” You protest, “really,” 

He chews the inside of his lip for a moment before adjusting the cap on his head and holding out a little bottle of pills, “Your head?” 

“How did you know?” You thought you were good at concealing it. 

“You keep wincing when I put the high lights on,” He nods up towards the fluorescents, “migraine?” 

“A little one,” You assure him, you know he’s got to be worried about you dropping out of formation right before recording, “but I got this,” 

As the lead choreographer and director of today’s stage performance, he’s been on edge this week. He’s so incredibly focused on the finer details down to every precise placement, finger extension, facial expression. You’ve been a dancer for a long time, and you’ve worked behind idol groups before, but not like this. The atmosphere here is different, and working with New World doesn’t feel like backup dancing at all. And for Yunho, it’s become clear to you over the past couple of months that while he isn’t the boss, he is the leader here and he takes that responsibility incredibly personally. 

But despite all that pressure and responsibility, he surprises you when he smiles at your admission, “I get them sometimes. Do you get auras?” 

You shake your head.

“I do,” He offers you the bottle again, “it sucks, but you know, the light sensitivity is always the worst thing,” 

You take the bottle and tip the migraine medication out into your palm, “Yeah,” 

“Are you sure you don’t need to tap out?” He offers, voice a little softer so that it’s a conversation just between you, “I know you don’t want to, but I can’t have you falling on stage,” 

“No, honestly, I wouldn’t put the team in that position,” You look up, trying your best to convey with your eyes that you can make it, even though the low throb in your skull says otherwise. 

“Okay,” He nods once, “I just had to ask. Are you ready?” 

“Ready,” 

“Alright,” He takes a step away and moves back towards the main part of the room. This time he doesn’t adjust the lights, he keeps the room low lit and calm and he claps as he turns back to the room at large, “Let’s run it again. We have an hour before the van gets here, and then from there it’s go time. We ready?” 

A chorus of yes echoes back, and you lend your voice to the mix, shaking off the pounding in your brain. You can do this. You can. Wooyoung punches your arm softly as he walks by you to get to his starting position, flashing you a smile and an encouraging nod. With a deep exhale you let it go, and you get to work. 

By the time you finish the third run through, your muscles are screaming, but you’ve managed to hold the rest tightly in. The migration medication seems to be helping, and though you can sense Yunho continuing to glance at you in the mirror he seems pleased that you’re keeping up. You just need to make it through this day, and then you can let it all fall apart.

With a glance at your watch, the hour now up, you realize just how much more time there is to get through. It’s only six in the morning, the earliest you’ve had to get up and be ready for this job yet. You’ve been told that if you’re ever a supporting dancer for a comeback stage it will be even earlier, two or three to accommodate pre-recording time. For this though, you’re not filming a comeback stage. You’ll get to the studios alongside New World at around seven-thirty, spend at least an hour or two getting ready in the green room, and then from there it will be a waiting game, and you don’t really know how a show like this will go. Music shows are a well oiled machine of time management, but this type of larger long program for their survival show stage is something you just aren’t used to. 

You just have to, without question, make it back home, but that might be eight hours from now or twelve, and that level of uncertainty makes your stomach churn. 

On the bus you take stock. Sore muscles, dry throat, ever so slight cramping in your back, bubbling migraine, fatigue. You’re not yet feeling the waves of hot flashing blush or deep, burgeoning cramps, but it’s not too far off. It feels like at the very least the quarter suppressant you choked down this morning might be doing just enough to mask the scent of your pre-heat, and that’s the best you can do. At least for now, no one’s noticed how close you are to the edge. No one, except possibly Wooyoung. 

“Here,” He says from his seat next to you, offering you a lozenge from a bag, “for your throat,” 

You stare for a second at the offering before your brain fires and you accept one with quiet thanks. Omegas often keep cooling lozenges around for their heat and pre-heat, something to take the edge off the soreness and dryness and it doesn’t surprise you that the only one attuned to your slight discomfort is another omega.

“You can keep the bag,” He places it on your lap, “if you need it,” 

“I’m good,” You pass it back, not wanting to admit how close you really are, “like I said, just dry,” 

“Okay,” He nods, and then he lets the subject lie, “are you ready for today?” 

“Yeah,” You swallow tightly, “nervous, but yeah,” 

“Mm,” He grins, relaxing back into his seat, “it’s fun, I promise,” 

“Yeah?” 

“When you see it all come together on the monitors,” He nods, “it just makes it all worth it,” 

“All the work, you mean?” You can’t help but glance up the length of the bus, to where Yunho sits alongside San and Mingi, all talking quietly and seriously amongst themselves. 

“Yeah,” He nods, “you’ve been working a lot of nights too, catching up,” 

“I just don’t want me being new to be the reason it’s not perfect,” You reply with ease. 

“That’s good,” Wooyoung says, “and I promise if you weren’t nailing it, you’d know by now.” 

“Would I?” 

“You wouldn’t be sitting here,” Wooyoung nods towards the front, “Mingi would have cut you ages ago,” 

“Mingi?” He’s been nothing but nice, flirty, and funny. He’d been helping you out at night to get better, you thought so that Yunho and San didn’t have an inkling that you’re behind. 

“His opinion is the one that matters,” Wooyoung laughs, whispering to you so the rest of the bus can’t hear, “have you not picked up on that yet?” 

You shake your head slowly. 

“y/n,” Wooyoung smiles as he realizes just how clueless you are, “Yunho would recommend we all stop drinking water if Mingi said it was a good idea. Mingi trusts his gut, and Yunho trusts Mingi,” 

“Oh,” You breathe. 

“Yep,”

“What about Jaemin?” You ask softly. You’ve only met the actual crew leader a few times here and there, but most of the time he’s not at the studio itself. 

“He keeps the work coming and the doors open,” Wooyoung says, “but they keep us moving.” 

You let his words sink in, the reality that for weeks you’ve been working side by side with Mingi and confessing all your fears of inadequacy, that he was the person who had to approve of you all along and you never knew it. You sigh, “Are you just trying to hype me up, or are you being serious?” 

“I don’t lie.” He says, full stop, no room for misinterpretation. 

The menthol lozenge burns a little on your tongue, but soothes the cut feeling in the back of your throat when you swallow and you find that finally for the first time all night you’re able to really exhale. With a soft nod you turn to him, “Okay,” 

“Okay?” 

“Let’s fucking do this,” 

He grins, “After this stage you’re officially one of us, you know,” 

Your eyes narrow, “You said that after my first week,” 

He rolls his eyes, “Okay, maybe I lie a little,” 

For the afternoon, with the lightness of Wooyoung by your side, you forget about your headache. The day happens fast, even with all the sitting and waiting in green rooms. There’s so much to remember, from camera positions to where the light is coming from, to how to adapt to the stage floor being just a little smaller than what you were working with back at KQ. The members seem suddenly focused in a way you’ve never experienced, you know what this means to them. To all of you. By the time it’s filming, you’ve had at least six lozenges and taken two more painkillers for your migraine to keep it at bay, and you're starting to feel exhausted. You film it twice, from two angles. Wide for choreography and tighter close ups on the members for cinematic facial expressions and intricacies of movement. 

When it’s all over and you pile back into the van, your legs feel heavy and disconnected. If you can just make it back to the studio, you can change and call an Uber and get inside before it knocks you sideways. 

Someone suggests drinks, someone else suggests a celebratory meal. 

You want nothing more than for the van to speed up. 

You grip your hand tight and breathe through the tight sensations in your body and no one ever notices a thing, not even Wooyoung who seems caught in the euphoria of the performance, your quietness blissfully overlooked for the moment. 

At the studio, it takes time for the locker room to clear out after the show, everyone else riding on the high of the performance too and slow to pack up for the night. It had gone so well, despite the way you had to push through the pain.  As the pain worsens, you’re not sure how you’re going to get home, but you know you need to figure it out soon. You can maybe call one of your roommates, but on a Friday night it feels unlikely that they’ll be available or sober enough to get you. 

A cramp ripples through you, and you grip down on the wooden bench, your leg bouncing to try and distract you from the waves of sensation washing over you. It’s been years since your last heat, and you can already tell this is going to be hard and heady. Sweat is collecting on your brow, waves of uncomfortable warmth passing through your body, and you can feel the way your breath is tightening. You really don’t have long, a matter of hours maybe, but it’s obvious to anyone who looks at you what’s going on. 

You fish your phone out of your bag and scan through your contacts, blinking hard to try and clear your blurring vision. The phone keeps ringing, first one of your roommates, then another, and when you hit their voicemail boxes for the second time, your phone slips from your fingers in frustration. Tears prick the back of your eyes, your hands shaking. You really thought you had more time. 

A noise across the locker room startles you, the heavy metal clang of a locker closing and you realize someone’s still in here with you. You’re trembling, a mix of abject panic and pain, your omega surfacing inside you in a way that you can’t control. Footsteps come closer, and though you’re still shielded by a row of lockers and can’t see him, you can smell him. Rich, cocoa and cinnamon. 

Mingi walks past your section of lockers, and you hope he won’t notice, but you’re never, ever that lucky. 

“Hey,” He says when he catches sight of you, “you did good tonight,” 

You keep your eyes away from his, curling down further to tug at the laces of your shoes and hope that he doesn’t notice the way you’re clenching your jaw to keep from crying, “Thanks,” 

“Yeah,” He says, and you hear his steps shift and then pause. 

Your eyes press closed as you hide behind the curtain of your hair. 

“y/n,” Mingi asks, “are you okay?”

“Mhm,” You pull your laces tight, your insides cramping painfully as your body registers the presence of an alpha. 

“Are you sure?” He asks. 

Biting down on the inside of your cheek you steady your voice, “Yeah, I’m good, just tired.” 

Mingi doesn’t answer, doesn’t move, and there’s really only so long you can pretend to tie your shoes. You tug your other laces taut and then do your best, leaning back up into a normal sitting position despite the pained pressure inside you. You grip down on the bench again and breathe slowly through your nose. 

“Are you hurt?” Mingi asks, concern evident in his voice, “Did you pull something?” 

You shake your head, you can’t trust your words. 

“Something’s wrong,” Mingi takes a step forward and you jolt back, sliding off the edge of the bench with a tight sound, your back connecting hard with the lockers behind you. His eyes widen at your sudden movement and you hold a hand out to keep him right where is. 

“Stop,” You plead, body shaking, “don’t,” 

“You are hurt,” He can feel your fear, and his eyes are panicked as he scans your body, “what happened?” 

“It’s not,” You sigh, shaking your head, another hot flash making your cheeks light up with blush and cutting your words. 

When he takes another step forwards you watch his face change, the way his breathing settles low into his chest as he regards you and comprehension starts to relax his face. Your eyes press closed as another cramp ripples through your abdomen, and suddenly you feel the first rush of slick. 

“Fuck,” Mingi says, “what are you doing here?” 

“Working,” You groan, opening your eyes again. 

“You should be on heat leave,” He shakes his head, “you should be home,”

“I know,” You nod, your throat growing tight and tears bubbling back up, “I-I asked, but it would have been unpaid, and with the performance… I couldn’t afford to not be here. I thought I had a little more time,” 

“Okay,” He steps a little closer and you shake your head, pressing your body back further against the lockers as if that will do anything, “it’s okay, I’m not going to hurt you.” 

“I know that,” You laugh humorlessly, “but right now your scent is making this harder,” 

“Oh,” He swallows hard, “I didn’t mean to,” 

“Mingi,” You meet his gaze and his eyes soften, “I need help,” You wish you didn’t have to ask. You wish you had just stayed home, not rationed your suppressants, and just handled this on your own. 

He nods, straightening up and swallowing hard, “Okay, let’s go,” 

“Go?” You watch as he picks up your bag and slings it over his shoulder with his own. 

“Can you walk?” He holds a hand out to you, an offering and nothing more if you want it. 

“Yeah,” You stammer, pushing yourself off the lockers, but one step already has you shaky and you grip his hand and let him hold your weight to keep you standing. 

“Alright,” He shakes his head, “I’m sorry, just hold your breath or something,” 

His arm wraps around your back, pulling you up and supporting your weight with a sure hand on your forearm and with his help, you take a step. His scent is dizzying, equal parts calming and arousing, and tears roll down your cheeks as you try to keep quiet and hold it together. Slick pools between your thighs and you’re sure he can smell it, but he’s doing a good job of saying nothing about it to you. 

“W-where are we going?” You manage as he pushes the door to the locker room open and steers you out into the dimly lit hallway of the dance studio. 

“We need to get Yunho,” He says with ease, like it’s obvious and poses absolutely no problem. 

At the thought of him, your body clenches and you bite down to keep a tight, pained sound inside. “No, Mingi, he can’t,” 

“We’re past that point,” Mingi is all but dragging you now, “I need his help, I can’t get you home by myself.” 

Yunho’s the only one with a car between them, not the mention a driver’s license. Mingi typically hitches a ride with him or using the subway, and at this stage in your heat, it’s not safe to take public transportation or put you in a taxi. There are too many variables, too many people you don’t know, and you need someone you trust to get you to a safe location to ride this out. The idea of Yunho tears your body in two, caught between the feeling of wanting him and never wanting him to know about this, but you know he’s safe, that safe place. 

There’s a light still on in the office at the end of the hall where you know Yunho is going through footage from the day and making notes while things are still fresh in his mind. When you’re close enough to the door but still safely in the hall, Mingi calls out, “Yunho!”

“Yeah?” He shouts back, and you can hear the distraction in his voice, a clear picture of him writing something down as he calls over his shoulder. 

“I need your help,” Mingi adjusts his grip on you, holding you close as your body trembles in his arms, “like right now,” 

“Uh,” Yunho trails off, “yeah, okay, yeah, I’m coming.” You hear Yunho jump up from the chair in the office, his quick footsteps, and another wave of fear flutters through you. 

“Mingi,” You grip down on his hand. 

“Right, fuck,” He remembers himself, tucking you closer to his chest, “slowly,” 

“What?” Yunho’s voice comes from the office but you can see his shadow on the floor in the hall as he gets closer to the door. 

“Yunho!” Mingi’s voice is deep, clear and firm and you let your head rock back on his shoulder, “Slowly, seriously,” 

He’s not distracted anymore, he’s incredibly alert. Yunho steps into the hallway slowly, just as directed when he hears the tenor of his best friend’s voice, and it takes him seconds to size up what’s going on. 

“y/n,” He takes a half step forward and stops himself, arm outstretched, “oh no,” 

His soft tone soothes you instantly but it doesn't help the emotional live wire you feel like you’re walking, and a little sob bubbles out of you, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” 

“You’re in heat,” He says, shaking his head, “it’s not safe for you to be here, why are you here?” 

Your omega shrinks and more tears spill over, the wave uncontrollable now, “I’m sorry, please,” 

Yunho’s eyes flick to Mingi’s before he comes closer, reaching out for you, “I’m not upset,” 

Relief washes through you, “You’re not?” 

“No,” He assures you, his voice dropping to a warm and even tone, “I’m just worried about you, I want you safe. Come here,” 

You comply instantly, stepping out of Mingi’s hold and straight into Yunho’s arms, letting him tuck you close into his chest before he adjusts his stance and brings your face up to the crook of his neck. His scent washes over you like a salve, nothing but warm rain and fresh cut cedar. 

“Shh,” He soothes you, running a hand down your back, “there we go, take a deep breath,” 

For a minute, it feels like your cramps have passed, your head clearing. He grounds you and brings you back into your body with his touch and you breathe low and slow, your hands gripping his shirt. 

“Okay,” Yunho murmurs, “what’s your heat plan? We can take you and get you there safe,” 

You shake your head into his neck, nuzzling closer to his skin, “I don’t really have one,” 

“What do you mean?” He asks, clearly not understanding. 

“You can take me home,” You tell him, eyes drifting closed, “I usually can take care of things myself,”

“That’s insane,” Mingi says from behind you both, and you feel Yunho’s hands tighten on your back. 

“Who’s there with you?” Yunho asks, “Don’t you have roommates?” 

You nod, resting on his shoulder, “Mhm,” 

“y/n,” He prompts you, “what are their designations?” 

“Mm,” You’re feeling so warm wrapped in his scent, “Ari and Hyejin are betas, Hyunwoo is an alpha but he’s probably out tonight,” 

“Tonight,” Yunho shakes his head, “you go through heats like this with an alpha home?” 

“Not like this,” You mumble into his chest and he shifts you in his arms. 

“What did you say?” 

“Not a heat like this,” You manage, “I’m normally on pretty heavy suppressants,” 

“She can’t go home like this,” Mingi says, “this is still just pre-heat,”

“I think so,” Yunho’s voice sounds far away, and you sink into the steady sound of his heart and the feeling of his hand smoothing a comforting line up and down your back. When he finally speaks again, his voice is so tender you almost don’t recognize it, “Can we bring you home? Let me help, you can’t go through a heat this hard by yourself,” 

“Yunho,” You shudder against him, “we can’t,” 

The thought of his cock inside you flashes through your brain, and you imagine the feeling of his swollen knot locking in, your body full and sated and the cramps dissipating. Your core throbs at the idea and you feel another rush of slick rush through you. 

“You’re in pain,” He murmurs, dropping his head a little lower, “you need an alpha. Let me take care of you, let me take you home,” 

You should say no, you should take your chances in your apartment with your box of toys and a bottle of lube, but you keep breathing in his steady scent and all you can do is say yes. Yunho’s been kind to you since the beginning, taking care of you for weeks even if he didn’t really know it, and he can take care of you now too if you just let him. 

“We’ll take care of you,” Mingi cuts in, offering his help softly, “and make sure you’re safe until it’s over,” 

“Are you sure?” You pull back from Yunho’s neck, leaning heavily on his chest still. 

He cups your cheek in his broad hand, bringing your eyes up to his, and nods, “Positive, and if you don’t,” he swallows hard tries to find the right words, “if you don’t want to have sex we can figure something out, but you need a place that’s private, and you need to be with more experienced alphas who know how to keep their hands to themselves.”

They’re not wrong. You just have to trust them. You just have to let go. 

Your body makes the decision for you, the way your aching and throbbing is soothed just being between them, and you let your mind follow. 

“Okay,” You sigh, leaning into his hand, “yes,” 

“Alright,” He sighs, “don’t worry about a thing, okay? We’ll get you home.” Yunho’s thumb rubs a soothing pattern into the soft gland at your wrist and it relaxes you further. He looks over you for a moment, “Mingi, I need you to take her for a minute, I’ll get the car.” 

When Yunho steps away, just to try and pass you back to Mingi, the lack of contact strikes panic through you and you shake your head, “No, no, don’t go,” 

“It’s not for long,” He assures you, his hands sliding down your arms as he separates from you slowly, “I’ll be back in 5 minutes,” 

A panicked whine leaves your throat and your mind spins, “Don’t leave me!” 

“Hey,” He soothes you but you don’t respond, all you know is he’s leaving and you’ll be without him and the thought makes your body clench. “y/n, hey, y/n,” He tries again but you’re shaking your head. “Omega.” His voice roots you to the spot. 

Mingi’s hands close over you gingerly from behind, and Yunho nods as your panicked noises stop, “Okay, see?” He says, “Listen to me, omega, I’m not going far. You won’t be alone, Mingi’s right here. I’ll be back in five minutes, and then I won’t leave you again, okay?” 

“Okay,” You lean back into Mingi, and let his touch keep you warm. 

Yunho nods and then keeps his eyes on you as he moves back to the office, darting out of your eye line for a moment. You can hear him grabbing his things; the zip of his bag, the jingle of his keys, and the lights flick off before he jogs back out. 

“Here,” He says, holding out his jacket, “put this on,” 

Mingi takes it from his hands, and eases it onto you. When you pull the jacket up, his scent washes over you again and you sigh. 

“Better?” Yunho asks. 

“Mhm,” You murmur, and tucked into the warmth of Mingi’s chest with their combined scents easing you, you can breathe. You keep your eyes closed, but you hear when Yunho walks out the front door and your body clenches a little, but you take a deep breath in.

“Mingi,” You finally say, looking up at him, “thank you for not leaving me,” 

“Hey,” He shakes his head, “I was never going to leave you there,”

You nod, twisting in his arms so you can tuck your face into his chest and let his arms wrap fully around you, “I’m sorry,” you sigh, “I’m not usually such a touchy person,” 

He chuckles, smoothing your hair with his hand, “It’s okay, I like it,” 

“And Yunho?” 

“Oh,” Mingi laughs, “he’s a cuddler, don’t worry.” 

Your stomach cramps and you groan into his chest, “God,” you grip him, “I forgot how much this hurts,” 

“How long has it been?” Mingi shifts his grip so that more of your weight is supported, “You know, since your last real heat?” 

“Years,” You tell him honestly, “they’ve been so much easier on suppressants,” 

“Mm,” Mingi nods above you, “when this hits it’s going to be intense,” 

“Have you helped a partner through heat before?” 

“I have,” Mingi says, “but Yunho hasn’t,” 

“Oh,” You have no idea why Yunho offered himself up immediately like he had done it a thousand times before if he’s never shared a heat with someone. The sure, practiced tenor of his voice when he called you omega rings in your ears. 

“Don’t worry,” Mingi assures you, “I know what I’m doing, and Yunho’s got a handle on himself. He won’t touch you if you don’t want him to,” 

“I’m really, really not worried about that,” You sigh. 

“Good,” Mingi’s phone starts to vibrate in his pocket, and he adjusts his arms around you so he can find it, “We’ll take care of you - Hey? Are you out front?” 

You can’t hear Yunho’s side of the conversation but you just wait, held against him. 

“Okay, I got her,” Mingi says, and you smile. 

You forgot the way that heat takes over every physical sensation, every little thing heightened until you feel like you’re on a razor’s edge. In a matter of hours you’re going to be a writhing mess, in so much pain you might be delirious - you might ask anything of them, beg for anything.  You have to reconcile with your shame now, and let them help. After weeks of dancing around Yunho, what you really want is to ask him out for coffee, not this. Mingi is no stranger to being flirtatious, those sparks between you already evident, but it always felt like a little inside joke between friends, not a step towards anything more.  

“Alright, just a little further,” Mingi urges you as he slips his arm under yours. 

It takes time to get to the car, but when you get there, Mingi slides into the backseat with you instead of taking the front with Yunho like he normally would. Enclosed in the warmth of the car, you relax into Mingi’s arms and find Yunho’s eyes studying you in the rearview mirror. Their scents settle you a bit, more than any other alpha’s ever has. 

“I’m okay,” You assure them, “it’s coming and going,” 

“We don’t live too far,” Yunho smiles, “so just try to relax and we’ll be inside soon, okay?” 

“Yeah,” 

Mingi eases you against him, feeling your exhaustion, until you’re nestled in his lap with his fingers softly carding through your hair. Yunho’s eyes flick back to you again and again as he drives, but for the first time since the locker room, you’re not in too much pain. 

“Yunho,” Mingi murmurs and his friend hums a noise of acknowledgement, “we need to pick up a few things for her,” 

“What do you mean?” 

“She needs to eat before this really starts,” Mingi says quietly, “I think we have water bottles at home and ice packs?” 

“Yeah we do, I went to the store a couple days ago,” Yunho glances back at you again. 

“Okay,” Mingi’s fingers keep up their soothing brushes on your scalp, “and we need condoms, in case.” 

“Oh,” Yunho blinks and opens his mouth to say something but you get there more quickly. 

“We don’t need them,” You twitch as a cramp ripples through you, “I’m on birth control,” 

“If it would make you feel more comfortable though,” Mingi offers. 

“No,” You groan a little and shift on the uncomfortable back seat, “really, I’m good.” 

The car is quiet for a minute, the reality sinking in that they won’t just be keeping you safe tucked away in a room in their apartment, but they will be helping you. Yunho clears his throat, “Then we’re good, let’s get you home and in bed, and then we can order food? Do we have time?” 

“Mhm,” You assure him, “I’m okay now that i’m with you both,” 

“Exactly,” Mingi soothes you as your fists tighten, eyes closing as you breathe through another small cramp, “your alphas will take good care of you,” 

You release a shuddering breath, the word sinking into your chest and keeping you whole. 

“Almost there,” He murmurs, “just breathe, omega,” 

Getting you upstairs to their apartment proves a little challenging, moving through the lobby of the apartment building and ferrying you into an elevator. They stay close to you, keeping you firmly tucked between them as they walk you in, and you do your very best to seem in control and not draw any unnecessary attention. 

The minute their apartment door closes though, your legs give out and Mingi scoops you up, “You did so well,” he assures you, and it’s evident now that he is the one with the experience here, knowing exactly what the primal part of your brain needs to hear. 

“I’ll order food,” Yunho says, giving you a small smile. 

“Get her some meat,” Mingi directs him, “broth too, and lots of rice,” 

“You are good at this,” You sigh. 

“We got you,” Mingi grins, acting like this is second nature, “now… I can put you to bed, or would you like a cool shower before you lay down? I know that helps,” 

“Mm, yes please,” You nod. 

“Alright,” Mingi nods and looks up, “get the food going, and then meet me in my room with some water and the ice packs.” 

“Right,” Yunho looks at you, “are you okay with just Mingi?” 

“Yeah,” You smile, “I’m feeling okay,” 

“Good,” Yunho smiles back and pulls out his phone to order the food, “then I’ll meet you there.” 

Mingi sets you up in the bathroom with ease, making sure you have towels and everything you need. Your heat is coming, building inside your body with every cramp and rush of warm blush, but their combined scents keep things calm enough for you to take care of yourself a bit. He asks you to keep the door unlocked in case you need help, and leaves you to your moment of peace. You let the cool water settle your body, taking solace in this dip of your pre-heat before things get worse. 

When you’re done, wrapped up in fluffy towels and feeling decidedly less sticky from the combination of sweat and slick, you make your way out into the hall. There are three bedrooms, an empty one you assume is Yunho’s, one that’s been converted into an office, and then one larger room at the end of the hall that you know must be Mingi’s. 

He appears in the doorway before you make it too much further and smiles, “Feeling better?” 

“Yes, thank you so much,” 

“Mhm,” He reaches for you, “come on in, we got everything ready for you,” 

His bedroom smells overwhelmingly like cinnamon when you first cross through the door and you feel a tense flutter in your core. His room is tidy, clean and organized well, which feels surprising for Mingi given how chaotic and busy he can seem at times. The bed is made, but the covers are pulled back for you and you see a folded shirt and thin sleep pants at the edge of the bed. Yunho is sitting in a chair in the corner by the foot of the bed and waiting, the dresser adjacent to his side equipped with almost everything you’ll need. Water bottles, pain killers, and ice packs, an unfilled bowl with a few washcloths stacked inside. 

“How do you know all this?” You catch Mingi’s eye. 

“My girlfriend in college went through terrible heats,” He explains easily, directing you towards the bed, “I remember what used to make her feel a little better,” 

“Ah,” That explains so much of him, and his easy reaction to finding you in the locker room. 

“Do you need help getting dressed at all?” He asks. 

“No, I just really want to lie down,” Your limbs are starting to feel heavy and achy. 

“We’ll leave you be then,” Yunho offers, “and when the food gets here we’ll bring some in,”

“Mhm,” You sigh, sinking down onto the bed, “thank you both again, so much,” 

When you’re finally alone in Mingi’s room, you start to take stock of your body and how it feels, getting a sense of how far you are from the real thick of your heat. Judging by the intensity of your cramps and the fact that you’re starting to produce slick, you know you’re not too far off, maybe a few hours at most. The onset of your heat is normally much slower than this, a long few days of light pre-heat into a couple of days of uncomfortable cramps and extremely high arousal. On suppressants it feels easy, off them everything is unpredictable. 

You pull on the clothes they left you, but they smell like stale lavender, artificial like laundry detergent and it’s not helping. You find the hamper in the corner and toss off the top, digging through Mingi’s clothes until you find a hoodie and you bury your face in it before taking a deep inhale and letting the warm smell of him pass through you. It might be crossing a line, but you don’t really care, you need them.

A pulsing wave passes through you and you collapse back into the bed, tugging on the hoodie and curling yourself up in the covers. The bed smells like him too, and you gather a pillow to your chest and take a deep inhale. Your neediness is starting to build up again with every passing minute, flushing heat through your chest and where you were cold a moment ago you’re suddenly overheated. You kick off the covers, but keep them close, and pile the pillows around you too so you can better inhale his scent. 

Slick rushes forwards again and you bite your inner cheek to stifle a moan and keep things in check. You push off the sleep pants they had given you, and fish through your gym bag until you find a clean pair of underwear and some wipes. You clean yourself up a bit, and change your underwear for the third time today, before deciding that there’s no point in putting the pants back on. Mingi’s hoodie falls low over your shorter frame, dragging along your thighs. 

You bury yourself back in his bed, and do your best to get a little rest before what’s to come. 

When you wake, it’s to Mingi pushing back his hoodie so he can see your face a little better, “Hey,” he murmurs, “how are you feeling?” 

“Tired,” You sigh, “and sore,” 

“Okay,” He smiles and tugs lightly on the strings of his hoodie, “is this helping?” 

“Mm,” You nod into his palm, but nervous knots start to curl up in your belly, “where’s Yunho?” 

“I’m here,” Yunho’s voice comes from the opposite side of the bed, and you twist in the sheets to find him, a cramp pulsing through you as you do and you groan, gripping onto the bed sheets beneath you. 

“Easy,” Mingi scolds you softly, “you need all the rest you can get,” 

Yunho finds your eyes and smiles, “What’s wrong?” He asks gently, noticing your nervous fidgeting. 

“I don’t know, I thought you left,” You manage. 

“I’m an idiot,” Mingi sighs behind you and his hand that rests on your hip shifts away, “stay with her a second,” 

“Mhm,” Yunho’s eyes don’t leave you, and he reaches out to rest his hand on yours, “we’ve got dinner, and then once you eat you can rest, we won’t go anywhere.” 

You watch his face as he studies your features, his breathing slow and steady, when you hear Mingi come back into the room behind you. “Here we go,” He says, and you feel a large, soft blanket draping over you. The smell of wet earth and rain in the air fills your senses again and you drag the blanket up and around you with a sigh. 

“You’re nesting,” Yunho observes, his mouth dropping open, “of course,” 

“She couldn’t smell you in here,” Mingi explains with ease, “she needs you to relax,” 

You nod, your cheek pressed against the blanket, “You smell like a thunderstorm,” 

Yunho sits slowly on the bed by your side, brushing your hair back behind your ear and smoothing his thumb along your cheekbone, “Is that right?” he smiles. 

“I love thunderstorms,” Your eyes drift closed. 

Mingi chuckles, “I think she’s found herself a heat partner,” 

“Only if she wants one,” Yunho presses, “and only after she eats,” 

Your eyes reopen, and you push yourself up to your knees, dropping the hood of Mingi’s sweatshirt and running your hands over your warm cheeks. “We need to talk now,” You blink hard and take a deep breath, “before I get too far into this,” 

“Let’s eat then,” Mingi gestures for you to sit back more comfortably and you watch as he and Yunho both produce boxes of take out from bags on the dresser, “what are you thinking?” 

“Well,” You shift up the bed to lean against the headboard, dragging Yunho’s blanket with you, “I haven’t gone through this in a while. I’m not sure how it’s going to be, but you said you wanted to help. What did you mean by it?” 

Yunho looks like he’s not sure exactly what to say or where to start and Mingi cuts in smoothly, “I’m willing to help with all of it. If you want me gone, I’m gone. If you want help to come to take the edge off, I can do that, and if you want me to actually knot you,” he gestures for you to fill in the blanks. 

“Right,” 

“But,” Mingi cuts in and your eyes shift back to him, “You seem to want Yunho,” 

His eyes flick down to the way you’re rubbing his blanket between your thumb and forefinger and you drop it instantly, not even realizing what you were doing. Mingi smiles softly and adds, “I think you prefer his scent,” 

“No!” You exclaim, wincing at the way your body tenses up, “No, it’s not that, at all.” 

“Earlier,” Mingi takes a seat on the edge of the bed, “you said my scent was making it harder, that’s not what I want to do for you.” 

“Mingi,” You shake your head, “I meant because it’s good, both of you. So, no I don’t have a preference.” 

“Oh,” Mingi smiles, and then turns to Yunho, “how are you feeling?” 

He clears his throat softly and nods, “The same as you, I’m all in.” 

“Okay,” You exhale slowly, “then so am I,” 

Mingi passes you a take out container and a pair of chopsticks, “Eat this, okay?” 

“Mhm,” You’re caught between exhaustion and adrenaline, but you stay focused on the task at hand. You all eat quietly, the atmosphere a little awkward now that you’ve all agreed. 

As you finish the container of food, Yunho smoothly passes you another and he says, “So, you feel comfortable with us?” 

“I do,” You nod, shifting a little at a slight pain in your back, “I like you both, and if I can trust you in the studio, I can trust you with this.” 

“And if you ask us to knot you?” Mingi prompts. 

“Right,” You swallow, resting the container of food on your lap, “I guess there are some things we should say now,” 

They look at you, waiting expectantly. 

“People say things during heat,” You start, imagining all the things you might beg them for for the next few days to come. “It’s not like I’ll be out of my mind or anything, you know that,” You nod to Mingi. 

“Mhm,” 

“But it’s still hard to control,” You explain, and Yunho listens intently, “I don’t know what it’ll be like for me. It’s been a long time, but you have my permission to do whatever we need to. If I ask you to knot me, knot me.” 

“Okay,” Mingi nods, “it’s good that we’re clear.” 

You feel another flush up your chest and you breathe slowly, “But no matter what,” you hold their gazes, “if I ask you to claim me, don’t. Don’t do it, even if I tell you I’m sure.” 

“Absolutely not,” Mingi’s brow furrows, and he looks shocked that you’d even have to say it, “there’s no way.” 

“I know you know,” You swallow and reach for a water bottle on the nightstand, “but Yunho, you’ve never done this before.” 

“That might be true,” He shakes his head, “but I know you wouldn’t mean that, it would just be the heat talking,” 

“Exactly,” You nod, “I might sound like I want that or like I need that, but I don’t.” 

“Understood,” Yunho nods, “I wouldn’t, I swear,” 

You sink back into your pillows and tuck back into your box of food, “I just want you to be prepared,” you explain, “and before I start crying and begging you to give me a pup, I wanted to say it,” 

Mingi laughs into his food, choking a little, “Sorry, no, not funny,” 

You smile, the mood a little lighter now, “It’s kind of funny.” 

Yunho smiles, shifting further onto the bed as he all but inhales his noodles, “You seem a better, I thought it was going to just get worse,” 

“Oh, it will,” You shrug, “but the food is nice, and you’re both here with me. When Mingi found me I was scared and alone, which always makes it worse,” 

Mingi’s hand rubs a comforting line up your shin, “You’re very safe now,” 

“I know,” You nod. 

“Eat some more,” Yunho notices that you’ve taken too long of a pause, and he gestures for you to keep going, “and then what would be nice? Some sleep?” 

“Maybe,” You dip back into your rice, “would you stay?” 

“I’ll stay,” Yunho murmurs. 

“Me too,” Mingi adds. 

They keep on you to eat, making sure you’ve had your fill. Afterwards, you rest between them watching some television, keeping your mind off things as best you can while you’re still feeling somewhat okay. They’re careful of you though, every shift of your body and soft hiss through your teeth drawing their attention. Mingi is still cool and evenly calm, but surprisingly Yunho is too, and you wonder what they talked about while you were in the shower. Did they discuss what to do at all? What the night and the next few days would be like? 

You’re so exhausted, slipping further down into the bed, nestled in pillows and wrapped in Yunho’s blanket. They naturally gravitate closer, their hands finding their way to your skin, and you’re not sure if it’s just their alpha nature or if it’s them, but you’ve never been more grateful for it. 

The cramps start to become unbearable again soon after they start to hold you. You’re not sure if their presence is making things move more quickly, let alone being with two alphas, but within the hour the pain sets in. 

You curl into Mingi’s chest as tight pain cuts through you, “Fuck,” you pant against him, “it hurts,” 

“I know,” Mingi soothes you, scooting down the bed until he’s eye to eye with you, “but you’re not alone,” 

A sharper, biting pain rips through you and a flood of heat washes over you. You grip down hard on Yunho’s hand, curling into yourself with a taut moan, “It… it hurts,” 

“Shh,” Yunho kisses your hair, running his hand up and down the expanse of your abdomen, “I know it hurts, jagiya,” 

You whine at the name, desperate to hear him call you anything and everything. Your omega thrums inside you - every touch telling you just how much closer your heat is than you realize. “Please,” You plead, but you don’t know exactly what you’re pleading for, “I can’t breathe,” 

“Yes, you can,” Mingi tries to sooth you, his hand on your cheek, “look at me, y/n, come on omega,” 

Tears well in your eyes, heat flooding through your veins and a pulsating need fluttering through you. If they don’t touch you, you might wither into nothing. Your hips tuck back into Yunho’s and you groan, “I can’t,” 

“She’s burning up,” Yunho murmurs from your side. 

“Let’s take this off then,” Mingi tugs on the sleeves of his hoodie slowly, coaxing your arm through. He can see your rising panic at the idea you won't be wrapped in their scents, but he shakes his head slowly, “easy, love, let your alphas help,” 

As the heavy sweatshirt is pulled away, you drop back on the bedding between them. The thin t-shirt they gave you is all but soaked through with sweat, sticking to your curves. Your head is aching, waves of feverish heat washing over you again and again, and you whimper, your legs twitching as you try to find a somewhat comfortable position. 

“Hey, hey,” Yunho’s thumb settles over the swollen gland in your neck, and he strokes it soft and slow, “just breathe,” 

It settles you, just a bit, and you let your eyes drift shut. With a sigh you reach for Mingi just to feel a bit of his skin on yours, “I’m not even properly in heat yet and I feel like I could crawl out of my skin,” 

“Hot?” Mingi brushes the damp hair back from your forehead. 

“It’s like my skin is tingling,” You murmur, “like a nerve,”

“Okay,” He nods. He shifts off the bed and your eyes flutter open. Mingi soothes you with a gentle hand, before moving towards the dresser, “Yunho, get those clothes off her,” 

Yunho’s eyes lock on yours, “Can I?” 

You nod, your head feeling full and pained. 

Yunho’s hand slips under the edge of your damp shirt, coasting up your stomach as he pushes the fabric up and the drag of his hot hand sends a pulse through your body. You moan, head dropping back into the bedding, and you feel another gush of slick. 

“It’s okay,” Yunho soothes as you he drops your shirt to the side of the bed, “there’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” 

You huff, a light laugh as you shake your head, “Easy for you to say, you’re not falling apart whenever I touch you,” 

“Yet,” He smiles. 

“Who are you kidding?” Mingi returns to your bedside with a bowl of cool ice water and a damp washcloth. He throws a smile at his friend before ringing out the washcloth over the bowl, “The minute you saw us in the hall you were all alpha protection mode, scenting her and everything,” 

“Shut up,” 

You grin, but Mingi sweeps a cold line up your body with the cloth and you shudder, “Fuck, that’s nice,” 

“Good,” Mingi murmurs, passing another wet washcloth to Yunho. When Mingi presses a firm line up your chest, and sweeping a little too close to your neck your body arches and your nipples harden into painful peaks. 

You blush hard and drop a hand over your face, “I can’t believe we’re doing this,” 

“Why?” Yunho asks gently, wiping your brow with the cool cloth. 

“We work together,” You sigh, “closely together… I probably should have made you take me home or something but,”

“Do knotting dildos even really help?” Mingi asks bluntly. 

“I mean,” You shrug, “they get the job done,”  

“Hmm,” Mingi shakes his head, “not with a heat like this,” 

“Maybe,” You sigh. 

“y/n,” Yunho asks, “have you had a heat partner before? Have you been knotted?” 

“A long time ago,” You nod, “it wasn’t a great experience, but you know, it is what it is.” 

Yunho passes the cloth down your chest and you shudder, but he keeps the conversation going, “Why in the world are you off your suppressants then?” 

Your eyes flick down, and you swallow hard, “I can’t afford them right now,” 

“Wait,” Mingi shakes his head, “what?” 

“The brand I’m on is the only one that works for me,” You explain, “they’re not priced like the generics, and I don’t have coverage yet. I’ve been rationing them out, but,” 

“You should have talked to me about it,” Yunho shakes his head, brows knit together in concern, “we could have done something for you,” 

“Yunho,” You meet his eyes, “I appreciate that, but I’m still kind of new here. I’m just trying to prove I belong here, and I didn’t want a reason to need a special exception.”

He looks like he wants to say something, but settles on nodding, “I can understand that.” 

“I’m,” You tense up as your cramps intensify, “I’m glad to know I can talk to you, I’ll do it in the future, I just couldn’t come to you about this.” 

“Alright,” He nods, his voice shifting to soothe again as your eyes clamp tightly shut. 

“Are they worse?” Mingi asks. 

You can’t answer, not yet, your muscles are locked up in crippling pain and you feel like you’re drowning in a sudden wave of hot air. You gasp as you feel your body produce more slick, your thighs surely sticky now, and you’re suddenly hyper aware of their hands and where they rest on your body. 

“I think,” Your hips jerk as Mingi slides the washcloth just an inch up your side, “oh God, I think,” 

“Okay,” Yunho pets your hair gently, “okay, just breathe,” 

Your fingers tighten in the sheets beneath you and an overwhelming ache between your thighs reminds you just how empty your body is. You press your thighs together, feeling a throb in your core, and you can’t stop the whimper that bubbles from your lips. 

“Let’s get these off too,” Mingi murmurs, his hands settling on your hip and tugging at your underwear to slowly peel them off.  

Things are spinning around you, tense and painful suddenly and no amount of cool washcloths or gentle touches are going to help you now. Your vision feels blurry, and you curl into yourself, tucking your body into Yunho’s chest with a pained hiss. 

“Oh, come here,” Yunho tucks you close, “I’ve got you,”

“Alpha,” You feel like crying suddenly, your stomach tense, “alpha, please,” 

“What, jagiya?” Yunho murmurs against your hair. 

You can’t explain what you need, all you know is that you can’t feel him close enough and you push the edges of his shirt up to try and find more of him, “Please,” you whine as you try to feel more of his skin on yours. 

“Whoa, whoa,” He tries to catch your hands but it just makes you more tense. 

“K-knot me,” Your stomach cramps, your cunt feeling swollen and sensitive, “please,” 

“y/n,” Yunho tries again to pull your hands away but you drive forwards, pressing your cheek against his bare chest where his shirt is ridden all the way up and you sigh into his skin, pressing frantic kisses along his body. 

“Please,” You beg again, “I’ll be so good for you, so good,” 

“I know you will,” He manages, but he can’t deter you, and you feel the moment his body responds to yours. His hands tighten pleasantly on your hips, and you hear the change in his breath. He releases your hands and swallows hard, “Alright, alright,” 

“No,” Mingi interrupts, “not yet,” 

“Why?” You sob. 

“You’re not ready yet,” He soothes, shifting closer behind you and placing a warm kiss on your bare back, “and Yunho and I are not going to hurt you tonight,” 

“I don’t care,” Your hands slide down Yunho’s chest, searching for his waistband. 

“Mingi’s right,” Yunho groans, attempting to disconnect your hands from him. 

“Omega,” Mingi’s voice is firm, and your hands fall away, “be still.” You’re sure you’re shaking like a leaf, and he sighs, “You need a little sleep,” 

“I can’t sleep like this,” You shake your head, “everything hurts so much,” 

“We’ll help with that,” Mingi pulls you away from Yunho’s chest, ignoring your tense whine at being pulled away from him, and slides a hand down your thigh to press your legs open, “we’ll help you sleep,” 

Yunho rests his hand on your inner thigh, bending your knee to open you up for Mingi’s hand, “Let your alphas make you feel good,” 

You’re shaking in their grip, Yunho’s hand feeling like a lead weight, and Mingi settles down low by your side so that you’re almost nose to nose, holding your gaze as his fingers gently sink into your wet folds. 

“P-please,” The sound in your throat is tight, “I need you to fuck me,” 

“Mhm,” Mingi nods, unfazed by your sudden shift in demeanor as your heat finally starts to build, “we will, but not yet,” 

You stifle a groan and turn your head away from him, tears gathering in your eyes as Mingi’s middle finger flattens out over your clit and starts to rock. All it does is stoke heat inside you and your vision blurs, the empty pocket inside you aching like never before. “Alpha,” You sob, “it’s not enough,” 

You expect Mingi to respond, but instead it’s Yunho, cupping your cheek and drawing your face towards his, “Shh,” he shakes his head, a gentle expression on his face, “we have you, sweetheart,” 

Something in his face calms you for a moment, the feeling of his warm gaze filling you and you want nothing more than to know he likes you. Approves of you. Your breath is slight, just a whisper in your throat. 

Seeing your response he slides forwards, pressing his mouth to yours in a warm, tender kiss. His hand slips down and he brushes over your gland again to keep you at ease, “Be patient for us,” he kisses you again, “and you know we’ll knot you nice and full,” 

With a desperate pant you catch his mouth again, moaning against his mouth when Mingi finally, finally sinks a finger deep inside your aching core. 

“You’re still so tight, omega,” Mingi murmurs. He pushes a second finger inside and starts to pump them in and out, and it’s not enough, nowhere near enough, but little blooms of pleasure spark up your spine and you fall back from Yunho into the bedding once more. 

“More,” You widen your legs and cant your hips, “please, Mingi, please,” 

He presses his lips to your forehead, nuzzling you softly until his mouth is close to your ear, “You’re so beautiful, omega. Did you know that?” 

A wash of pleasure crashes through you and his fingers speed up, pushing into you more firmly, his thumb catching against your clit to heighten every thrust. You moan against him, gripping hard on his shirt and jutting your hips into his hand. 

“And so good for us,” Yunho kisses your shoulder, traveling down until lips close around one of your stiff nipples. 

“Ah,” You arch into his mouth, “ah, god,” 

“Close already, omega?” Mingi teases, shaking his head despite the smile across his lips, “Are you that sensitive?” 

“D-don’t tease me,” Hot pleasure sparks up your body and your head twists back, your body tight and stiff. 

“Then come,” Mingi bites down on your earlobe gently and you whine. 

“Do as your told,” Yunho urges you, sucking hard on your nipple and pressing your leg open wider, “our sweet little omega,” 

You come so hard your brain whites out, your ears ringing and your body trembling. After an entire week of build up to your heat, and hours of feeling like your body was being stretched out long like a rubber band, snapping apart in their hands hits you so much harder than you ever could have imagined. 

Your brain reconnects when you feel Yunho’s soft blanket tucked around your naked body, and you’re too exhausted to open your eyes, but you feel them cuddle close before you drop off into sleep drowning in cedar and cinnamon. 

You have no idea what time it is when you wake again, your brain is too foggy and pained to even check the time. All you know is desperate need, all consuming emptiness and aching. When you reach out in front of you, the bed is empty and you stifle a sob. You’re alone, they’ve left you alone. You’re alone and you’re in heat, and you thought they wanted you, but all you can feel is shame. The primal part of your brain tells you that you’re not good enough, that if you had been a better omega for them they would have stayed. You’d be good and knotted by now. 

Curling into the sheets you try to push yourself up, but find the effort even harder than before. You’re soaked in sweat, trembling uncontrollably, and the throbbing pulse of your cunt is so heady that you find yourself seeking any friction at all, squeezing your thighs tight and grinding against the balled up comforter. 

You feel a body roll behind you, shifting closer, and when you hear his groggy, sleepy groan, you almost cry in relief. “A-alpha?” You can’t move too much, too it’s too painful, but you reach back for him. 

“Hey,” Yunho’s voice is a little hoarse, and it takes him a minute to realize what’s going on, but in the early morning faded light he watches the way you’re struggling. “Oh,” he breathes, “it’s really started,” 

You nod desperately, “I need help, alpha, please,” 

“Okay,” His voice drops, and he slides across the bed to slot himself perfectly behind you, “I’m going to take care of you now,” 

“Y-Yunho,” You squeeze yourself further back into him, “I’m so empty,” 

His face is above yours now, studying your expression to try and determine if this is really it, and you don’t know where Mingi is to guide the situation but at the feeling of Yunho’s body behind yours, your will to care is fading away into nothing. He’s not touching you fast enough, and with a whimper, you twist your head in the sheets, bearing your neck and submitting. 

“Oh,” Yunho’s hands tighten on you, “oh,” 

“Please,” You press again, “it hurts, alpha,” 

His cock stiffens behind you, and you almost cry in relief, rolling your hips back against him. “Fuck,” His face drops against your hair, “oh my god,” 

“Inside me,” You beg, reaching back and tugging at his shirt, “now, please,” 

He moves so much more quickly this time, pushing down his sweats and reaching between your thighs to check you, finding you soaked with slick and aching for him. You moan when you feel the press of his cockhead against your entrance, and in one fluid motion he slides home, fully seating himself inside you. 

You’re shaking in his arms, the feeling of being this full making you almost delirious with joy. Yunho doesn’t move though. He has you pulled as close as possible so that your back is flush with his chest, arms wrapped around you and keeping you perfectly still. His forehead rests against the top of your head and you can hear his shaky breath. You need him to move, to fuck you, to fill you with pups and never leave you, but he doesn’t. 

Slowly, his hips draw back just a little before sinking forward again, thrusting inside your tight channel experimentally like he’s trying to get a feel for you. Despite how your body prepared you for this, making you wet and relaxed to be able to accommodate an alpha’s knot, the feeling of his cock stretching you open is almost enough to make you come right then and there. 

He thrusts again, slowly, and you whimper against him. You need more, and fast.

Yunho groans as he holds himself deeply inside you again, caressing your body with his free hand, “You are the best thing I’ve felt in my entire life,” 

Your brain spins, pleasure flooding you and distantly you can hear yourself asking him to knot you. You’re not prepared for what he’ll feel like fucking you in earnest. 

“Is that what my girl needs?” Yunho pants, and hand locking down over your hip to help pull your body back against his hard thrusts. 

“God, please!” Your eyes close, falling apart into the sensations of him inside you. 

He groans against you, “Tell me what you need, omega,” 

The low tenor of his voice is nothing but alpha now, his instincts guiding him just as much as yours. You’re never going to last, not if he’s going to talk to you like this. With a taut moan you beg him, “Fill me up, alpha please, knot me please,” 

His hand slides up your chest, up your neck until you’re shaking with need, and closes his fingers on your jaw until he draws your face up so he can watch your eyes. His hips shift their pace, no longer driving into you with frantic need but instead firm, deep thrusts of his cock. His eyes are blown wide with desire, his mouth falling open as he watches you falling apart on his cock, “You’re all fucking mine,” 

You nod, hot tears gathering in your eyes from the overwhelming sensation and you cry out desperately for more. 

“All mine,” He repeats and surges forwards to lock his lips on yours, “you belong to me,”

“Yes!” You choke, “I’m yours, only yours,” 

“Good girl,” He angles his hips, and on the next thrust you’re spinning fast into the crest of your orgasm. With his face pressed against you, his lips at your ear, his next words snap you open. “I’ll give you perfect pups,” He pants, his knot swelling, “I’ll breed you so full,” 

There’s nothing now but the feeling of him, all encompassing as your orgasm crashes down over you, muscles spasming around his hard length. You’re a babbling mess, but so is he, so close to coming that the first sensation as your eyes reopen is his knot pressing hard at your opening. 

He’s so large already, larger than any partner or knotting dildo you’ve ever used, and you scramble a little in his hold, “Y-Yunho, I can’t,” 

“Shh,” He holds you against him, “you can, I know you can,” 

Pushing your hips down with his broad hands, he angles himself upwards until you feel the pressure of his knot pushing past your entrance and finally slipping inside you fully. It burns, your body aching to accommodate him, but with the way he’s holding you and the throb of his cock inside you, none of that matters. 

He grinds his hips desperately into you, his knot swelling further inside you, and when he comes, releasing hot with a shuddering groan, you finally feel sated. Your body melts into him, pleasantly foggy and at ease, his knot no longer uncomfortable but essential. 

You’re finally, finally full. 

It takes time for Yunho to come back to his senses, his hands still locked on your skin and breathing shaky as he tries to regulate it. You realize now that you have a little clarity that it was his first time. Deep, instinctual need had guided him, but the longer he stays quiet, the longer you wonder if you did well for him. 

After another minute or two you find his hand and lace your fingers together, “Yunho?” 

“Yes?” He murmurs from behind you, his forehead still against your hair. 

“Can you hold me please?” You murmur, squeezing his hand. 

��Come here,” He sighs, shifting slightly to spoon you properly. As he does, the knot locked inside you shifts and you make a startled hum at the sensation. He smooths your hair back and tries to get a good look at you, “Does that hurt?” 

“No,” You shake your head, adjusting so that you’re resting on his bicep, “I just feel full,” 

“Mm,” He kisses your temple, nuzzling your skin with his nose as he breathes in your scent, “you’re perfect,” 

Warmth blooms in your chest, “So are you,” 

“I want you like that again and again,” His hand slips out of yours so that he can coast it over your body, feeling your warm skin under his hands. 

“You can have me like that again and again,” You smile, “I’ll be in heat for days.” 

“Days of this,” He sighs, his hand dipping down over your hip and settling over your stomach. He inches his fingers down, passing over your sensitive nub and feeling the place where your bodies connect, locked together. 

“Does it feel good for you too?” You murmur, a little breathy as his hand slips back over your clit. 

“I’ve never felt anything like this,” He presses closer to you, “it’s incredible,” 

You chuckle, kissing his arm and relaxing further into his touch. You’re about to agree, to say more, to confess that in truth it’s your only experience in heat that so far hasn’t been terrible, but the door to the bedroom opens and Yunho tenses. 

Mingi opens the door slowly, and Yunho pulls you close, his hand closing over your stomach and his other arm wrapping around your shoulders. It’s just Mingi, but Yunho’s brain must still be fogged with the intrinsic need to protect you and in the presence of another alpha, he can’t see that it’s just his friend. 

“Mingi,” You shake your head, feeling how tense Yunho is behind you, “give him a minute,” 

“You’re okay?” He checks, staying rooted to the spot at the door, knowing that Yunho could hurt you if he stops thinking straight and tries to defend you against the imagined threat of another alpha. 

“I’m perfect,” You assure him, “I promise,” 

“Is he?” Mingi looks anxious. 

“He’s fine,” You nod, smoothing your hand across his arm to try and relieve some of his tension, “but we need some more time.” 

Mingi nods, “Come find me when you’re done,”

“We will,” 

Mingi’s eyes flick to Yunho, “Be careful with her,” 

“I got it,” Yunho’s voice sounds strained. 

Mingi nods once, and then disappears, leaving the door open, and you suspect it's so he can hear things a little better should you need him. Yunho’s muscles unlock slowly, his thumb unconsciously rubbing a steady line over your abdomen, and he exhales heavily into your hair.   

After a while, you expect his knot to have gone down, but he’s just as locked inside you as ever. The overwhelming alpha quality though has started to fade, and you rest lazily in his arms as he plays with your fingers and waits it out. 

“Does it normally take this long?” He asks finally. 

“Not usually,” You shake your head, “but it’s your first time knotting someone properly, so it might just take a little bit.” 

“I’m sorry,” He murmurs. 

“Why?” You tug him a little closer to your back, “This is exactly what I need,” 

“Everything felt right?” He pushes himself up onto one elbow so that he can look down at you a little better, propping his head in his hand. 

“Mhm,” You assure him, “Better than right,” 

He smiles, his eyes flicking over you appreciatively. 

“What about for you?” You bring him back to center, rubbing a circle into his palm with the pad of your thumb. 

“It wasn’t what I expected,” He says honestly, and your mouth drops open. “No, no,” He cups your cheek, “I meant that it was just… much more intense than I expected. I said a lot of things to you, and I don’t know, I guess I thought that type of thing was just played up in porn,” 

“Oh,” You grin, delighted a little by the way his ears run red. 

“Yeah,” He smiles, blush creeping into his cheeks now, “I just couldn’t stop myself,” 

“Mm,” You nod, “I get it, completely. This is why I wanted to talk before I was in heat,” 

“Was it too much?” He checks in. 

“No,” You assure him, “It was just what I needed to hear, and it doesn’t mean anything outside of my heat, it’s just instinct.” 

He nods and sighs, dropping back to the bed and cuddling you close again, “Good,” he murmurs, “then don’t worry about how clingy I’m about to get,” 

“You? Clingy?” You giggle against his chest, “I don’t believe it,” 

“I’m a softie,” He shrugs, “I don’t know what to tell you,” 

“But you always seem so serious at the studio,” You murmur, “and I’ve seen you go out with a lot of women,” 

“Ah,” He laughs, “well the studio is work, and I’m responsible for a lot there. And as far as the dates,” he corrects, “I am trying to appease my mother because she desperately wants me to find a wife, which I’m not really focused on right now, but she’s pretty obstinate.” 

“Such a mystery, Jeong Yunho,” You prod him lightly. 

“Not really,” He kisses your hair, sighing into you, “I’m just a guy,” 

You hum and let your eyes drift closed as he holds you. 

He yawns and sighs again, “So, forgive me if I cuddle you to death while you’re here, like I said, softie,” 

“I’m not complaining,” You sink into his touch. 

He groans a little, his knot finally softening but he stops you when you shift your hips, “Go slow, I don’t want to hurt you,” 

“It’s okay,” You assure him, feeling the way his knot fades down into being barely there. His cock starts to soften, and you slowly ease your way forwards while he shifts his hips back, disconnecting you both with a soft wet sound. 

His release floods out of you, leaving you messy and sticky, but Yunho kisses your shoulder and shifts away, “Hold tight, I’ll get a towel,” 

He seems incredibly unembarrassed about the messy state of heat sex, which you’re eternally grateful for, and within a few minutes you’re cleaned up and dressed again in yet another pair of clean underwear and one of the largest shirts of Mingi’s that you’ve ever seen. 

“How are you feeling?” Yunho asks as you finish cleaning your face up in the mirror of Mingi’s bathroom.

“A little sore,” You tell him honestly, “and cramping a little again, but it’s not too bad yet.” 

“You want to come see Mingi then? Get out of this room for a minute?” He brushes his fingers down your back as he watches you in the mirror. 

“Perfect,” 

In the living room, Mingi is waiting. He’s pouring over with nervous energy, his leg bouncing and his fingers fidgeting with his phone, refreshing his social media feed over and over again. The television is on, but he’s clearly not watching, and instead you see him perk up at the first sounds of you emerging from the bedroom. 

“Hey,” He twists around on the couch, looking a little relieved when he sees you completely fine and cleaned up wearing one of his t-shirts. 

“Hey,” You smile, moving towards the couch, “can I sit?” 

“Of course,” He gestures towards the couch, but that’s not exactly what you meant. The sight of him waiting for you, and the palpable taste of his anxiety in the air makes you feel needed, and you push his arms open to settle in his lap. 

“Oh,” He adjusts his legs to give you a better seat and winds his arm around your back, “is everything okay?” 

“Mhm,” You take his hand, rubbing your thumb gently over the gland in his wrist to soothe him, “you can relax, I’m perfectly fine,” 

Yunho takes a seat on the opposite end of the couch, chewing the inside of his cheek as he watches you and Mingi together. With a nudge to his friend’s thigh he gets Mingi’s attention and shakes his head, “I’m sorry I snapped at you,” 

“It’s cool,” Mingi shrugs, “I know the feeling.” 

“Where did you go, anyways?” You ask, leaning into his chest. The familiarity between the three of you should feel strange, before last night you really were only coworkers to each other. You might have even become friends, but now you’ve pushed so far past that you don’t know what you are except to accept that their hands on your skin feels right. 

“I shouldn’t have left, I could feel you were getting restless,” he explains, “I went to make you some broth and get cold water, just putting a few things together, but by the time I got back you were both in it,” 

“Ah,” You blush looking down at your hands, “sorry,” 

“Don’t be sorry,” Mingi’s broad, warm hand rests on your bare thigh and gives you a subtle squeeze, “I’m glad Yunho could help. I just didn’t think it would be smart to interrupt you,” 

“Good thinking,” Yunho adds, running a hand over his face and sighing, “you were right,” 

“I told you,” Mingi nods, “it can be intense,” 

Yunho passes a hand over your shin before pushing himself back up to stand and he stretches long and tall before groaning, “Alright, I’m starving.” 

You clap a hand over your mouth, chuckling into your palm, “Classic,” 

“Can I make you something?” He asks, “Either of you?” 

Mingi shakes his head, “I’m good,” 

“Me too,” You agree, “I should be hungry, but I’m really not,” 

Mingi’s nose crinkles, “You should still eat,” 

“Maybe in a bit,” You try to appease him. 

“In a bit you’ll be jumping our bones again,” Mingi counters. 

“I know,” You sigh, “but really, I’m okay. I feel pretty good,” 

“This is really just because it’s day one right?” Yunho asks, a little less joking than before. 

“Yeah,” You nod, “day one and two are never as bad, and you definitely have more lucidity as long as you’re managing the spikes well. Day three, four, and sometimes five if it lasts that long, are usually a lot harder.” 

“How much is a lot?” Yunho asks, stepping close and running his hand over your hair, “You were already in a lot of pain,” 

“I’ll be less coherent, and the fever can be worse. I probably won’t have down time like this,” You explain, “the pain isn’t necessarily worse, it’s just more consistent,” 

He frowns, “Then you’re eating now,” 

You sigh heavily and shake your head, “Honestly, you don’t need to, I can make myself something in a bit or,” 

Mingi cuts you off and makes a dismissive noise with his tongue against his teeth, “y/n, relax. This is what we meant when we said we’d help you through your heat. It’s more than just orgasms and knots,” 

You swallow back your words, holding his gaze. 

“Alphas are meant to provide,” He reminds you, “so let us,” 

A flutter of warmth bubbles through you, and you can only nod, no use arguing now when your mind is spinning and telling you to accept. Yunho drops a quick kiss on the top of your head, before disappearing into the kitchen. You’ve never had an alpha provide, never once. In your limited experience before going on suppressants, you were used to being knotted incredibly quickly and then left alone, or having a partner that never really knew how to fully satisfy, leaving you to feverishly deal with your needs while they slept. You’ve never experienced a heat where you felt wanted before. 

You ease into Mingi’s chest, resting a head on his shoulder and letting your muscles relax for as long as you can. They make you food, massage your sore hips, and keep you distracted with stories and memories from before your time at the studio. They hold you close, and they ease your pain, they provide.

[astraystayyh]

Backburner

Han x reader. Han is a toxic ex who won't let you move on. Angst.

Inspired by Backburner- Niki. skz song series masterlist

It's been seven weeks since you and Han broke up.

Not that you're keeping count, but it's easy to remember when he calls you every Saturday night. Without fault.

He's the one who broke up with you, flimsy excuses and teary eyes as he left your apartment. Talks about how he wasn't enough for you, how he couldn't be present for you, how he couldn't love you the way you needed to be loved.

But you wanted his love, not the one he suddenly deemed you worthy of.

Maybe that's why you still picked up, even though it's reeling you back to seven weeks ago when he had just left you. Han's no longer here and yet, he's not letting you move on. He's the perfume that lingers in the elevator long after the person is gone; he's the feeling of floating on the waves that sticks with you long after you come home from the beach.

He's an expert at kneading nostalgia into your soul, at holding you hostage by the ropes of your shared memories. You are a puppet in his hands, dangling over the edge of oblivion, only to be pulled back each time you attempt to forget.

And he's calling again, at 2 am, like he always does. You don't have to glance at your phone to know it's Han- you never changed the special ringtone you set for him. And you pick up, like you always do.

I can't lie it feels nice that you're calling

"Hey, were you sleeping?" he asks after a few silent beats.

"No, I wasn't."

He clears his throat, and you imagine him lying on his bed, fidgeting with the hem of his sweater. If you close your eyes long enough, you can still smell his cologne and the fabric softener he uses. Or maybe he changed it. You aren't around anymore to know.

"I miss you." His voice sounds broken, coming out in a strangled whisper. As horrible as it sounds, you enjoyed knowing that he felt as miserable as you- that his soul still ached for you as you ached for him.

You sound sad and alone, and you are stalling

He coughs again, trying to fill the silence from your end, but you don't budge. You never know what to expect from these calls. Sometimes he'd talk about his day, as if nothing happened, as if he was still your boyfriend and he was calling you on the way home.

Sometimes you'd both stay silent, your breaths the only thing echoing through the phone call. You'd put it on speaker and pretend he was there, lying next to you. That you'd wake up in the morning and find him smiling at your sleeping figure, his fingers gently brushing against your cheek.

And sometimes, he'd tell you how much he loves you. Those phone calls hurt the most, because if he loved you, he would have stayed, right?

I don't care about what you want, as long as you keep talking

"Yn, I... I really miss you."

"Han..." you trail out, as hot tears well in your eyes. It was hard not to crumble when he spoke this way, his words tugging harshly at your heartstrings. It brings you back to all the times he was away, bound by work obligations. How he always told you he missed you, and within it, a silent promise that he'd come back. That he'd unravel the need within you, filling every dent and crack in your heart since he left. Unlike now, gone for good.

"It's the truth, I wait all week for this one call. It's the only thing keeping me going."

Talking to Han makes you experience different emotions, all at once. Relief- when you hear his voice for the first time in a week, and you realize you still haven't forgotten how your name sounds rolling off his tongue. Sadness- when you remember that this is now the remains of your relationship. The pain wraps around you slowly- like vines intertwining themselves with old buildings, deserted just like your heart.

And then anger- when he says things like this; as if he isn't the instigator of this pain, as if some force greater than the two of you forced you apart. It maddens you, how he stabs you and then he weeps over your bloody body.

"Then why did you break up with me, Han? If it's hurting you this much then why are we even apart?" you ask, anger barely contained.

"I told you, I'm never here. You don't deserve a boyfriend like this," his tone is exasperated, as if this is a simple truth and you are supposed to swallow it down your throat, along with the rest of your feelings.

"Then stop fucking calling me Han. You aren't here but you won't let me move on!"

"Because I don't want you to move on!" he yells, and you startle at the raw pain laced in his voice. "I'm scared if I don't call you anymore, you'll forget me," his voice cracks. "And... And we'll meet ten years from now in the aisle of a random supermarket, and you'd be in love with someone else while I'm still buying the shampoo you recommended to me."

"I'm tired Han," you choke out, phone now shaking in your hand.

You'd think I'd be a fast learner, but guess I won't ever mind- crisping up on your backburner.

"Me too, baby."

"Don't call me that," you beg, "please, don't call me that."

It's pathetic but at least you are too

"I want to see you," he says, tone pleading. And you can envision him perfectly, wounded eyes looking into yours, his lower lip quivering at the thought of you saying no.

"It's not love when you treat someone this way," you tell him, wiping your tears away. "To put someone in the corner and only think of them when you are fucking lonely."

"I think of you all the time," he cuts you off, "you never leave my mind, even when I'm away. Especially when I'm away."

After everything you put me through, I somehow still believe in you

"This is wrong," you whisper, as your resolve weakens, as your longing for him threatens to consume you whole. You no longer care that his hands are choking you as long as he soothes down the burn after.

"I know it is, but I love you. Say it back, please. I need to hear it."

I'll always be in your corner

"Please," he repeats, and he sounds so vulnerable, in his way of begging you. As if your words are the oxygen with which he breathes.

"I love you."

Cause I don't feel alive until I'm burning on your backburner

You are already at the door when you hear someone knocking on it. You don't have to look through the peephole to see who it is.

You open the door, and Han's there, phone still brought up to his ear.

"Let me in?"

He doesn't need to ask, you always will.