#that’s when the show really begins. but watch out!!

[smileysuh]

hotel california

🌙 starring. Choi Seungcheol x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. “Time is a funny thing in this place. I know it’s been days, weeks, years even- that I’ve been here, but I don’t know for how long. I eat, I sleep, I drink- I repeat. I don’t grow old, I don’t get sick. I just am. It’s fucking boring if I’m behind honest with you, or at least it was. It’s been a while since we had someone new show up at the hotel, and even longer since that someone was as gorgeous as you.” 

tw/cw. Unprotected sex, fingering, pussy eating, blow job, roughhousing, dirty talk, praise, finger sucking, multiple sex positions, spanking, mentions of pain kink, mentions of masturbation, breast worship, watching yourself in the mirror while you fuck, etc… I pet names: (hers) gorgeous. 

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 9.9k

🍭 aus. Non idol au, strangers to lovers, song as inspo, etc..

☀️ mlist + an. I’ve wanted to tackle ‘The Hotel California’ song by Eagles for ages, and after months of thinking about how to do it best, I think I finally did it justice. I wanted to also draw some inspiration from the tv show ‘The White Lotus,’ with the first season (and the first season’s Hotel Manager) being particularly interesting to me. I’m really excited about this fic, and I hope you guys enjoy it!

One:

Driving across the Californian desert after a twelve-hour shoot had not been your plan, but being double booked by your agent had left you with little choice in the matter. You’re still a blooming model, and you can’t yet afford the luxury of easy flights- no, you have to do it yourself, and it’s determination that’s driving you as you speed down the highway with the sun beginning to set.

You’re exhausted, and you can feel your body beginning to tire from your long hours, but you push on. In an effort to keep yourself awake, you put on some music, doing your best to focus on the long winding roads as you take the liminal path between one civilization to the other.

It’s a pretty drive if nothing else, at least as the sun sets, but once the purple and pink sky has faded to black, the whole thing feels monotonous. 

You yawn loudly, pushing harder on your gas pedal. There are no cops out here this deep in the desert, and if it saves you even ten minutes to speed, it will be well worth it.

It’s hard to concentrate, and you can feel yourself getting drowsier and drowsier, your eyelids getting heavier with each passing breath, but you’re in too deep to pull off on the side of the road.

Your body is relaxing, succumbing to the exhaustion. Your eyes begin to close- and just as you’re on the precipice of falling asleep at the wheel, your car makes a rough sound.

Body lurching with anxiety, your heart thumps wildly in your chest, and once again, your car makes a noise it shouldn’t be making.

With a loud groan, you slowly pull off to the side of the road, and that’s when the engine begins to billow smoke out from under your hood.

You reach for your phone, only to find it’s dead, and with a loud, “Fuck!” you get out of your car.

It takes you a second to remember how to pop the hood, after all, you’re a model, not a mechanic. As the hood lifts, a gust of hot smokey steam flairs up at you, and without your phone to use as a light, you can only rely on the rays of the moon to guide you as you fiddle with your car on the side of the road in the middle of the desert.

After five minutes of panic, you decide to give up. As you look around, you realize there’s a light in the distance. It’s a faint light, but a light nonetheless. 

You return to your car, sitting there for a while as you decide what to do.

Leaving your vehicle on the side of the road isn’t exactly the best-case scenario, but neither is staying with it overnight- you’ve heard that the desert can get cold when the sun goes down, and you’re already feeling chilly.

You weigh your options. After a while, you collect your things from the trunk and begin to make the trek down the long desert road toward the lights that symbolize civilization of some sort. 

Two:

“Welcome to The Hotel California,” a peppy man smiles when you approach the front desk.

It turns out the lights you’d seen from your car had belonged to a cute one-story terracotta hotel. You didn’t realize there were hotels along this stretch of road, but relief floods through you as you approach the man whose badge says ‘Jeonghan. hotel manager.’

“Hello,” you smile, releasing a sigh. “My car broke down a little ways up the road.”

“Well that’s not very good,” he frowns, empathizing with you.

“I need a room for the night, and I’d appreciate it if I could use a phone to call for someone to come and look at my car in the morning,” you explain. 

“I can get that settled for you,” he assures you, writing something down in the notebook in front of him. “A room for one?”

“Yes, it’s just me,” you confirm.

“Name?”

You give him your information, reaching into your bag for your credit card.

“We won’t need any form of payment until check out,” Jeonghan assures you. “Anything you eat or drink or do will be added to your tab, and you can deal with it another time.”

“Thank God, you have no idea how exhausted I am.”

“I’ll have our bellhop escort you to your room and help with your bags,” the hotel manager smiles. He waves over a man, whose nametag reads ‘Seungkwan,’ and with another nod and a grin to you, the manager watches you walk off.

You take a moment to look around. While the exterior of the hotel had been very rustic, the interior is Art Deco. There are many mirrors, and the lobby has a few red velvet couches strewn about. It’s actually kind of cute for a hotel in the middle of nowhere, and you’re thankful you’d come across it.

If your car had broken down even five minutes before, you doubt you would have seen the lights of The Hotel California, and then where would you be? 

Three:

You wake as light peaks through the blinds of your room. With a yawn, you sit up in bed, immediately reaching for your phone on the bedside table.

Although you’d plugged it in to charge the night before, the screen is still dead.

Your heart sinks in your chest, and with a groan of exasperation, you stand up. 

After putting on clothes and making yourself feel presentable, you head out in search of the lobby, where you find Jeonghan behind the front desk as he had been last night.

“Hi,” you greet him. “I was wondering if you have any news about my car?”

“We called a towing company, they had to come out from the nearest town. No word yet on what’s wrong with your car or how long it will take to fix.”

It’s hard to hide your disappointment as you release a deep breath. “So… I’m stuck here.”

“It would appear that way,” Jeonghan smiles politely.

As you’re about to leave, you remember the other point of contention on your mind, and you turn to look at the hotel manager again. “I tried to charge my phone last night, and I’m not sure if it’s a problem with my charger or your outlet, but it didn’t charge.”

“I can take your phone for you for now, and I’ll see if one of the chargers or outlets we have here will work,” he suggests.

You stare at him. The idea of giving up your phone doesn’t sit right with you, but at this point, you’re too tired to care. Although you’d gotten sleep, your body still feels exhausted- how many hours had you even gotten in bed?

“What time is it?” you ask.

“I think it’s time for you to get a watch,” the hotel manager teases.

“Right…” you trail off, pulling your phone out of your pocket to hand to him. “Please get this back to me once it’s charged, I’ve gotta call my agent and maybe rearrange a mode of transportation or something.”

“Go relax and I’ll deal with all of this,” Jeonghan assures you. “We’ve got a morning buffet in the dining room just down the hall, I suggest you go and get your strength up.”

“Thank you.” 

You follow his direction down a few corridors to a dining room. It’s a lovely space, with one line of glass walls that look out at the desert. The style choice is as art deco as the lobby, and while you’d found it charming at first, you’re already getting sick of the mirrors everywhere.

A large table lines the far wall, and there are many silver trays with food on them. Heading over there, you find a plate and begin to choose what you want to eat.

As you make a dish for yourself, you look around, noting that there aren’t very many guests in the hotel. You suppose that it’s a very odd location for a hotel, and its remote nature is probably the reason you only see a handful of people around.

Once your plate is full, you approach one of the many empty tables, taking a seat and looking around once more.

There are two men dressed in suits, and you immediately assume they’re in business of some sort. You wonder what they’re doing here of all places, but you don’t dwell on it for long, not when you notice that their table is covered with plates.

They’re both rather lean men, so you wonder how they plan to eat all the food in front of them, but you decide not to be a person who pries. After all, you’re only going to be here a short time, you don’t have to care about what others are doing around you.

Your gaze shifts to a man seated near the windows. His hair is dark and curly, and he has a pair of glasses on. His gaze is focused on a book in his hands, and you notice the only thing on his table is a lemon water.

For some reason, he gives you monk vibes, and you wonder how a man so young and attractive can be so peaceful in his way of living.

The hair on the back of your neck prickles, and you realize someone is watching you. There’s a man in the corner of the room, and on second glance, you realize he’s next to a record player. He stares at you for a few seconds, then lifts an entire bottle of whiskey to his lips.

He makes you uncomfortable, and after that, you just focus on your own plate, repeating to yourself that this will all be over soon.

Four:

After breakfast, you head back to your room, and when you get there, you’re surprised to find both your laptop and all your charging cords are missing.

You scramble through your bags, hoping you just misplaced them- but no, your electronics are gone, and it makes your heart race with anxiety.

You all but run back to the lobby, but when you arrive, Jeonghan is not there.

Looking around, you realize there’s a bar set up in the corner, and you quickly make your way over, stopping in front of the bartender. “Hi, I checked in last night, my car was having issues, and then so was my phone- I gave my phone to your hotel manager to charge, and when I got back up to my room my laptop and charging cords were gone-”

He stares at you blankly, and you read the name on his shirt.

“Look, Joshua, I just need help. I need something. I have to call my agent, I have to do something-” 

“Have a drink,” he suggests, lifting a bottle of tequila from behind the bar.

“I don’t need a drink,” you groan. “I need my phone, I need my laptop, I need my car- I need you to help me sort this out!”

“Calm down, gorgeous, Joshua just works here, you’re not going to get a lot of help out of him unless you want a mean cocktail.” A deep voice makes you turn, and you find yourself staring at the man who you’d seen by the record player at the buffet earlier.

He’s still carrying his bottle of whiskey, but it’s only about half full now.

“He works here, so he should know what to do or who to call-”

“Like I said, the most you’re going to get out of him is a wine and steak pairing recommendation,” the man in front of you laughs. “I’m Seungcheol, by the way.”

You tell him your name with a sigh, and you don’t miss the way his gaze rakes up and down your body.

“So what’s your story?” he asks.

“My car broke down, I walked here, my phone is dead, my laptop is stolen, I’m having a really shit day.”

“Sounds like it.” He brings the bottle of whiskey to his lips, taking a large gulp. “Maybe you should take Joshie’s advice and have a drink.”

“What I need is a nap,” you state. “I’m going back to my fucking room, to have a fucking siesta, and when I’m done, that fucking hotel manager better have my phone charged and my car fixed.” 

Five:

You have no clue what time it is when you wake up from your nap, all you know is the sun is beginning to set and your whole body hurts. You groan to even sit up, and you realize you feel as exhausted as you had this morning before your nap.

Are you getting sick? 

Deciding you don’t have time to dwell on the state of your body, you head to the lobby, where once again, Jeonghan is nowhere to be seen. So instead, you head to the bar, where the ‘Seungcheol’ man is sitting and chatting with Joshua.

You take the seat next to him and he turns to look at you with a grin.

“Hi, gorgeous, how was your nap?”

“Uneventful,” you state. “Look, I need a ride to town.”

“Which town?”

“Any town, I don’t care, I just need to get out of here.”

“Well, I don’t have a car.”

“You don’t have a car?” you stare at him in shock.

“Nope, just a motorcycle, and I doubt all your shit would fit on it.”

“I will literally leave ‘my shit’ here and come back for it once my car is fixed.”

“Well…” Seungcheol taps his fingers on the bottle of whiskey in his hand. “My motorcycle broke down on the way here.”

You blink as you look at this man. He’s stunning, with a strong jaw, broad shoulders, curly hair- but fuck, he’s a bit dense. “Well?” you ask. “Was it towed? How long have you been waiting for it to get fixed?”

Seungcheol only grins, taking a sip of his whiskey. “A while.”

For some reason, the way he says it is ominous. You don’t know if he’s playing with you, or what- but you’re done with all of this bullshit.

“I’m going to bed again,” you announce.

“Didn’t you just wake up?”

“I am going to bed!” 

Six:

When you wake up the next morning, the first thing you do is go to the lobby. You can’t help the relief that floods through you when you see Jeonghan standing behind the front desk.

“Thank God,” you almost laugh with triumph. “Do you have news about my car? Or my phone? Also, someone stole my laptop yesterday!”

“Unfortunately I have no news about your car, and it seems none of the chargers are working with your phone,” Jeonghan frowns.

It feels like the breath has been knocked from your lungs. “What?”

“Also, I don’t know anything about your laptop, but I’ll look into it.”

You’re tired of this hotel manager taking charge- tired of being at this Art Deco hotel in the middle of butt fuck nowhere.

“You know what, I’d like to check out,” you tell him. “I’d like to grab my things, call a taxi, and just go to the next town and wait for my car to be fixed.”

“I’d love to help you with that,” Jeonghan says, “but unfortunately there are no available cars to take you to the next town.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, no taxis come out this far, you couldn’t bribe them with a hundred bucks to come grab you.” Jeonghan laughs as if what he’s just said is a joke. “And unfortunately all the actual cars on the property belong to people who work at the hotel, all of whom are on shift and can’t drive you.”

“Can’t I wait till someone’s off shift?”

“Everyone on shift lives here in the staff quarters and I can assure you that no one wants to drive to the next town, which is over two hours away, after a twelve-hour shift.”

“So…” Your heart is racing. “What are my options?”

“Well, you can check out if you’d like,” Jeonghan says, “but unfortunately, I don’t think you’ll be able to actually leave the premises unless you walk, which would be very dangerous.” 

“Fuck. Give me my phone back.” 

You watch Jeonghan reach down and pull your cell out of a drawer, and then you snatch it from his hands.

“Have a lovely evening!” he calls as you turn and storm to the bar.

“What was that about?” Seungcheol asks as you come to stand next to him, releasing a breath of exasperation as you set your hands on the bar top.

“Joshua, give me a bottle of something.”

“What do you like to drink?” the bartender asks.

“Anything.”

“Looks like you’ve changed your tune, gorgeous,” Seungcheol grins next to you.

“I’m going to get drunk, and then I’m going to walk back to civilization if it’s the last thing I do.”

You note the way Seungcheol’s expression falters. “For real?”

“Yes, for real.” 

Joshua places a bottle of tequila on the bar and you snatch it up, flicking off the lid and taking a large chug. 

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” Seungcheol muses. “He doesn’t either, do you, Joshie?”

“I just work here,” Joshua shrugs.

“Unless one of you wants to drive me back to town, I’m walking!” 

You can feel Seungcheol studying you, and then he sighs. “Fine. I’ll go with you.”

“I never asked you to come.”

“But I’m coming anyways, it wouldn’t be responsible to let a cute girl like you go out into the desert alone. There are aliens and shit.”

“Sure there are,” you roll your eyes.

You have a few more sips of your drink, getting yourself jazzed up for this- and then, you turn to look at the door that leads out of The Hotel California. “Okay, let’s get out of this fucking hellhole.”

Seungcheol releases a chuckle, shaking his head, and then he stands, following you out into the desert beyond.

The first half hour or so is you walking with determination, but as time ticks on, you begin to falter.

“Finally ready to turn back?” Seungcheol asks.

“Why did you even come with me?” you snap.

“I told you, it wouldn’t be safe to send you out here alone.”

“Because men who ride motorcycles really care about safety,” you roll your eyes.

Seungcheol only laughs, and he says nothing else, allowing a silent trek for another hour or so.

Is it an hour? Fuck, you can’t really tell. There are no clocks, no phones to check the time- you have no clue how long you’ve been out here, and anxiety is beginning to bubble up in the pit of your stomach.

Then- just as you’re feeling close to your breaking point, you see lights in the distance.

“Oh my God! We made it!” you practically scream, turning to look at Seungcheol, who doesn’t seem nearly as excited as he should be.

Your pace picks up, in fact, you begin to run toward the light, toward salvation-

You’re out of breath, your muscles screaming at you, but you push on… and that’s when you realize, these lights are familiar.

The excitement begins to die down, and when you’re close enough to see the source of the lights with clarity, you sink to the ground next to the highway in shock.

Gravel and sand crunches as Seungcheol comes to join you, standing a foot away.

“But- that’s- that’s the hotel!” you say.

“It is.”

“But- we went straight! We followed the highway! How are we back here again?”

You’ve never felt defeat like this, and you’ve been rejected by modeling agencies a number of times in your career. This is something different, it’s not just a momentary lapse- this feels more permanent, it feels more otherworldly, and you can’t wrap your head around any of it.

“I think…” Seungcheol releases a sigh. “I think it’s time I told you a few things.” 

Seven:

Seungcheol had insisted on going back to the bar to get a bottle of whiskey before divulging into a conversation with you. As you’d entered the lobby, Jeonghan had called out a bright ‘welcome back!’ and you were too defeated to acknowledge him.

You feel like a shell of a person as you lead Seungcheol back to your room, collapsing on your bed. “What the fuck is going on?” you ask.

“This is all going to sound a bit weird,” he admits.

“Weirder than us walking in a straight line for two hours only to find ourselves right back where we started? I doubt it.”

Seungcheol smiles, shaking his head a little as if this whole situation is somehow humorous.

“I think… everyone is stuck here.”

“Stuck here?” you question.

“You and I, we have similar stories. I remember driving my motorcycle, something happened, I pulled over, and then I saw this place,” Seungcheol explains. “I’ve talked to a few people who live here, and they all have the same story.”

“I don’t understand- Seungcheol,” you swallow thickly, “how long have you been here?” 

“You see,” Seungchol chuckles, but there’s a sad note to it, “Time is a funny thing in this place. I know it’s been days, weeks, years even- that I’ve been here, but I don’t know for how long. I eat, I sleep, I drink- I repeat. I don’t grow old, I don’t get sick. I just am. It’s fucking boring if I’m behind honest with you, or at least it was. It’s been a while since we had someone new show up at the hotel, and even longer since that someone was as gorgeous as you.” 

You can’t believe he’s taking this opportunity to flirt with you, so you pull yourself back on track. “Someone has to know how long we’ve been here,” you insist. 

“No one I’ve talked to knows.” 

“Well,” you take a breath. “I want to talk to those two men, the ones in suits who are in the buffet.”

“Why?”

“They strike me as the kind of men who would know things,” you tell him. “I can feel it.” 

Eight: 

You find the two men where they always are in the buffet. Tonight, they’re playing chess, using up a large table so the space not covered with the game board can be full of food and drinks. You still wonder at their glutenous ways, but that’s not why you’re here right now.

“Hi,” you say, trying to be friendly despite the day you’re having. 

The two men look up at you, then at their chessboard.

“I’m Y/N, and this is Seungcheol,” you introduce yourself only to be met with silence. “What are your names?”

“Jun. That’s Minghao,” one of the men says dismissively. 

“Do you guys happen to have the time?” you ask next.

They’re both quiet, and it’s making you angrier by the second, but you force yourself to keep your cool.

“Would you guys be able to tell me how long you’ve been here?

Still silence.

You look around for that man you’d seen, the one with glasses and a lemon water, but he’s nowhere to be found.

“Look,” you kneel down so you’re about level with the seated men, lowering your voice. “I just got here, something weird is going on, and I need answers.”

The two men exchange a glance, and it’s Jun who finally turns to you. “We won’t discuss this in the open.”

“Come to our room,” Minghao sighs. “But don’t make it obvious you’re following us.”

You wonder why the theatrics are necessary, but with a nod, you and Seungcheol move away. You take a seat at a table across the space, and after a few minutes where the two men converse in whispers, both stand up.

You wait for them to leave, and after a few seconds, you and Seungcheol slowly follow. 

Jeonghan watches you cross the space, and that’s when you realize why these men are being so weird. This hotel manager has an odd hold on everyone in this place.

When you make it to Jun and Minghao’s room, they open the door for you, saying nothing. As you enter the space, you’re ready to bombard them with questions, but when Jun moves to the coat closet, pushing fabrics aside, all your words die in your throat.

The entire wall, which had just been hidden, is covered in small tally marks.

“We were keeping a tab with a pen and paper, but the cleaner kept taking it away,” Jun explains. “I don’t think they want us to keep track of time.”

“And these tallies-” you begin.

“They mark the days the two of you have been here,” Seungcheol finishes.

“But,” you swallow thickly, “that’s thousands of days- that’s years!”

“Over sixty years,” Minghao says quietly.

“How can this be real?!” you ask. “You both don’t look a day over thirty.”

“When we’d arrived here, we weren’t,” Jun says sadly, “but that was in 1963.” 

“Nobody grows old here,” Minghao tells you, “because we’re in Hell.”

“So you both think that pansy hotel manager is the Devil?” Seungcheol scoffs.

You can see Minghao’s eyes immediately narrow in annoyance. “We just mind our own business, and we suggest you do the same.”

“Have you ever confronted Jeonghan?” you ask.

“Nobody confronts him,” Jun says sheepishly. “I guess, even though we’re all in Hell, lots of us are… scared of the consequences.”

“Well, he already took away my phone and my laptop,” you sigh, “I guess I have to be the man in the room and go deal with this.”

Nine: 

After spending the night thinking about it, you decide as the sun comes up that you’re going to rip the bandaid off.

Everyone in this fucking hotel is so evasive, but you’ll take this head-on. You’re a twenty-first-century woman, and you’ll be damned if some hotel manager ruins your entire life.

There’s a power in the way you walk as you head straight for the front desk, and you try to look intimidating despite your rapidly beating heart.

“Good morning,” Jeonghan greets you with a smile. 

“What’s the deal?” you ask.

“Hmm?” 

“The deal with this place, what’s going on?”

He flashes you a knowing smile, and the words that come out of his mouth next are an obvious load of shit: “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

You size him up, and you realize that, at this precise moment, you’re not going to get any information out of this man, so you decide to switch to plan two.

Turning on your heel, you head deeper into the hotel, and in the back of the dining room, you see Seungkwan slipping into a corridor. 

Catching him is easy since he’s not exactly running from you, and the man stops to politely nod at you. “Good morning.”

“What’s going on with this place?” you ask.

“Excuse me?”

“This stupid hotel, what’s the deal? All my electronics are missing, there are no clocks, and I left yesterday, I left! I walked down the highway for two hours only to end up right back where I started!” You can’t help the way your voice is rising in annoyance, and you partly hope that you can actually successfully intimidate this man-

As you look at him, you realize intimidation is off the table, because he releases a laugh.

“Look at you, little miss demanding.”

“Please,” you sigh, your heart practically wilting in your chest. “I just need to know.”

“Talk to the hotel manager, he can answer all your questions.”

“Except he can’t, or maybe the word is won’t-” You struggle for a moment. “Look, don’t you want to gossip with me?”

You can all but see his ears perk up at the word gossip.

“You’re a bellhop, you like secrets, right? You enjoy tea?”

His eyes narrow at you. “I’m more of a coffee drinker.”

“Tea, as in gossip, gossip is tea-” God, you wonder how many of these people are from the last century and have no idea what you mean when you use current lingo.

“I’m listening.”

“I’ll tell you some tea,” you insist. “Gossip for gossip, deal?”

“I want something else,” Seungkwan tells you, and that’s when you notice his eyes lingering on your throat, your necklace. “I want that.”

You sigh, reaching behind yourself to unclasp the silver chain. “Take it and tell me what’s going on in this stupid hotel.”

As soon as the jewelry is in the bellhop’s hand, his entire demeanor changes. It’s as if he’s gone from a young man, and turned into an old woman telling you about her neighbors and how she snoops at her window to collect information all day. There’s an air to his essence that tells you you’re about to find out exactly what’s happening in this so-called ‘Hotel California.’ 

“What have you heard so far?” he asks. “What do you think this place is?”

“I don’t know? Someone said it might be Hell, but I doubt Hell is an Art Deco and terracotta hotel in the middle of the desert.”

Seungkwan’s expression shifts with an all-knowing sort of twist of his lips. “This isn’t Hell. It’s purgatory.”

“What?” You feel your breath leave your lungs in shock.

“And Jeonghan, well, he’s not a hotel manager, he’s a grim reaper. His domain is this desert, and every guest at this hotel, they died in his desert, so their souls were his to pass judgment on.”

“Wait a minute, what do you mean we all died here?”

“Keep up!” Seungkwan snaps. “This is purgatory! Of course you’re dead!” 

Your entire body deflates now. “But… how?”

“Fell asleep at the wheel, didn’t you, little miss model? Seungcheol’s motorcycle hit a pothole. Minghao and Jun were high on coke and drove off a cliff by the ravine not far from here, thinking they were invincible. Every guest has a similar story, it’s a dangerous stretch of road after all.”

“So… who are you? And how do you know all the people I’ve talked to since I got here?” 

“I’m a nobody, a highwayman. But trust me when I tell you, the staff here keep tabs on everyone.”

“Are all the staff... Highwaymen?” you ask.

 “In one sense or another.”

“And… and Jeonghan chose to put us in purgatory?” you question. “Why didn’t he take us to a final place?”

“Because your unfinished sins were too great to gain you entry above, but not dark enough to gain you entry below.” Seungkwan pauses for a moment. “It’s best if you try to overcome your original sins, you might just make it out of here.”

“Overcome my sins?” you repeat, on the verge of laughing in an odd sort of complete hopeless hysteria that you’ve never felt before. “Has anyone ever made it out of here?!” 

“One man,” Seungkwan says thoughtfully. “In fact, you saw him. The man in glasses, Jeon Wonwoo. He was a powerful man back when he was alive, lustful and glutenous. But in his time here, he’s overcome, and you were his final test.”

Anger bubbles inside of you. “I was a final test? You mean I was brought here to test some horny guy!?”

“Not many women die on this stretch of highway, not many who are so grey and muted as yourself. Jeonghan found you to be particularly… puzzling.”

“Puzzling?” you scoff.

“You’re a model,” Seungkwan shrugs. “Lust, envy, pride, greed- you belong here like everyone else. Those businessmen, overwhelmed by pride, greed, envy, gluttony, sloth, and even wrath. They’ve only conquered lust in their eternity here, but that was to be expected with no women to enchant them. They treasure their own company now, far more than they’d ever treasure yours.”

“And Seungcheol?” you ask.

“Seungcheol?” Seungkwan actually laughs. “A rockstar from the seventies? Lust, pride, greed, wrath- in his day he had an enjoyment of starting mosh pits at his own concerts, of fighting people, of drinking and sleeping with many, many women. No, Jeonghan chooses the right people. You’re all here, and you’ll likely all stay here.” 

Ten:

You’re sitting with Seungcheol in a secluded part of the buffet room, and you’ve just given him a rundown on all things Seungkwan. For a moment, he just sits there, and then, his brows furrow. “That little fuck says I’m here because I used to start moshpits at my own shows?”

“And sleeping with lots of women I’d assume.”

“I’m gonna beat that fucking bellhop’s ass-”

“This is what he’s talking about!” you insist. “Wrath!”

Seungcheol steadies himself, and then he sighs. “Who would have thought the seven deadly sins were a real fucking thing.”

“People who believe in the bible and stuff?”

Seungcheol shoots you an unamused expression and you have to stop yourself from smiling.

You look down at your hands, fiddling with your fingers. “So… are we going to try to overcome our sins or whatever?”

The man next to you exhales deeply. “I’ve been here a long time,” he admits. “I don’t think I’m going to magically change because some bellhop said I’m a horny fuck with anger issues.”

“True.”

“Besides, Jeonghan brought you here to test the whole lust thing, and I think we both know I’m failing in that one.”

Your skin tingles. Is this seventies rockstar admitting he’s into you?

I mean… you’d suspected as much, but to hear it confirmed like this…

Do you want to be good? Do you want to work on yourself?

Or do you want to give in to these lusty feelings? Do you want to go wild and make the most of this place since you’re probably going to be here forever?

You feel completely torn, and you clear your throat. “I think… I think I need to go clear my head.”

Eleven: 

You find your way to the pool after some deep soul-searching. You’re in need of somewhat of a cleanse, and you think water could be a good way to do that.

It’s the evening, but the air is quite warm as you make your way through the open spaces of the hotel. The sky is dark above you, but stars twinkle, as does the moon. It’s oddly peaceful, if you forget the fact that you’re in some fucked of purgatory liminal space.

When you get to the pool area, you realize there’s a man you’ve never seen before, and he’s sitting by the hot tub. His feet are submerged in the bubbling water, and his head is tipped back, eyes closed. There’s a bong next to his right hand, and you can smell weed. 

You stand and watch him for a moment, then decide to approach.

“Hello?” you say, drawing his attention. “Are you new here?”

“No, but you are,” the man muses.

“I am… but I’ve never seen you before.” 

“You wouldn’t, I’m nocturnal. Might as well be, since there’s nowhere to go but here.”

Obviously this man has his own opinions of The Hotel California, and you take a seat next to him, crossing your legs. “What do you think of this place?”

“It’s whatever.”

You risk another look at him, and you realize he’s closed his eyes again, looking as relaxed as ever. That’s when you realize this man’s main sin is glaringly obvious; he’s sloth.

“How did you find weed here?” you ask.

“Brought some when I arrived, started growing it when I realized I wouldn’t be leaving.”

So… this man is growing weed, sleeping all day, and smoking all night in purgatory. Sounds about right.

“Do you want to leave?” you question.

“It’s whatever.”

“Some man named Wonwoo left,” you point out. “Seems like there’s a possibility.”

The man laughs. “That fucking monk finally got out? He’s been trying to be a good boy for years.”

You swallow thickly at the reminder that even if you try to be good, you’re doomed to be here for years. It’s not an ‘okay I’ve been good for a day, let me out now’ sort of situation. The whole thing leaves a bad taste in your mouth, and you clear your throat. 

“I’m y/n by the way.”

“Vernon.” There’s a stagnant pause, and then he stretches. “You know, it’s nice here. You don’t have to cook or clean. There are no responsibilities. You just get to relax.”

“Kind of like an indefinite vacation.”

“Exactly.”

He seems nice enough, and if it wasn’t clear he was such a sloth with a thing for marijuana, you might expect him to be next on the list of viable options for getting out of this place.

“Just, enjoy yourself,” Vernon sighs. “You might as well.” 

Twelve:

After a night of thinking, you’ve finally made your decision on what to do in this God-forsaken hotel, and you head down to the lobby. One look at Jeonghan makes you rethink asking him for information, but you spot Seungkwan heading toward the buffet, and you quickly follow him out of sight from the manager.

“Hey,” you greet the bellhop, “have you seen Seungcheol today?”

“I believe he runs at this time,” Seungkwan explains. There’s a small rocky hillside out behind the pool, Seungcheol made a trail there for exercise, but between us, sometimes I think he’s hoping to get bit by a rattlesnake and die for a second time.”

From the small chuckle that leaves his lips, you can tell he’s trying to joke around, but you’re just not at the stage in your acceptance of this place to find dead jokes comedic.

“Thank you,” you nod, heading off in the direction he’s pointed you in.

The trailhead behind the pool isn’t very difficult to find, and you start up the path.

You have no clue what time it is, but you know it’s early morning. It’s just starting to get warm, but despite this, you have a fire inside of you driving to find the seventies rockstar.

This urge - call it lust maybe - it drives you forward, and finally, you find the man you’re looking for.

He’s in running shorts, and he’s shirtless. A sheen of sweat covers his muscular form, and God, he’s never looked this beautiful. His hair is curled from precipitation, and he’s panting, his hands on his hips as he stands at the top of the small hilly cliff that looks down at The Hotel California.

“Seungcheol!” you call, drawing his attention immediately.

“y/n?” 

You can tell he’s confused to see you here, and his brows furrow. Walking closer, you take a deep breath. “I’ve been thinking,” you tell him.

“Yeah?”

“I was thinking… if we’re going to be here forever, we might as well make it fun.”

Your words hang in the air, and on this tiny hill, you accept your fate. You accept that you’re dead, that you’re in some odd form of purgatory. And you accept the fact that you’ve found a partner to share this whole delusion with, for better, or for worse.

“So you’re saying…” Seungcheol swallows thickly, stepping closer to you.

“Just kiss me,” you laugh, shaking your head at him.

A massive smile appears on his face, and then he’s grabbing your hips and tugging you tight to his chest. His lips are on yours a moment later, and while you’d expected him to be an eager, lust-fueled maniac, he’s oddly slow with how he approaches this first interaction.

However, the kiss deepens when you wrap your arms around the back of his neck, your tongue swiping his bottom lip desperately.

Seungchoel lets out a deep groan, matching your rising energy with an enthusiasm of his own.

It feels so good to be doing this with him, and for the first real-time since you got to the hotel, you feel your anxiety slipping away. Your entire body is focused on this man, and this man alone- and then his hand slips down to your ass, grabbing it roughly.

“Hey,” you laugh, pulling away from the kiss. “We’re not fucking out here on some rock.”

“We’re not?” Seungcheol chuckles.

“Not in a million years, which it sort of sounds like we have.”

“Back to the hotel then,” Seungcheol tells you, and just like that, the two of you head back down the trail to the hotel.

It seems there are different routes to take, and you find yourself in the lobby as opposed to the pool, which is where Jeonghan stops you with a wave. “y/n,” he calls. “I’d like a word.”

Seungcheol groans, and you release a sigh, turning to look at him. “I’ll meet you later?” you suggest.”

“I’ll go shower, find my room after, I’m in number seventeen,” Seungcheol nods.

You watch him disappear, taking a moment to appreciate the muscles of his broad shoulders as he walks away, and then, you turn to face the hotel manager.

“Looks like you’ve made a decision,” Jeonghan muses.

You wonder what exactly he’s talking about. Is it a decision to pursue Cheol? To sin? 

You’re not quite sure, but at this point, you don’t care.

“I’ve made my choice,” you tell him, trying to sound confident about it.

“So you’ve chosen to be a part of The Hotel California.”

“I don’t think you left me with much choice,” you point out. 

A large smile appears on Jeonghan’s face. “I guess I have to agree with you there,” he admits. “Go. Enjoy Seungcheol. You might be able to help with his… less desirable traits if not his sexual habits.”

So everything here really is a set of scales. Cheques and balances. A lesser evil of cleansing Seungcheol of minor sins while fanning the fire of his lust. You suppose you can’t win them all. 

Thirteen:

You wander the hotel until you find room seventeen, and when you get there, you don’t even bother to knock. You simply push the door open, entering the space.

Seungcheol’s hotel room is different from your own. It’s significantly larger, with a den and a door that you assume leads to the bedroom. You make your way through the space, looking in at where he sleeps, which is where you find the man himself standing.

He has a towel wrapped around his hips, his hair is damp and curly, and God, he looks even sexier than he had on the hill. He’s so well muscled- part of you wants to lick his entire body and moan while you do.

Seungcheol turns to look at you, and when he smiles, you swear your knees feel weak.

“What did dickhead want?” he asks.

“Jeonghan?” Your mind goes blank. “He uh, I guess he wanted to see if I’m set on staying here or not.”

“And?”

“Well, we’re about to sin, aren’t we? So… guess I’m a permanent resident now.”

Seungcheol laughs. “Who wants to go to heaven if you can’t fuck there?”

“A lot of people I think,” you giggle.

“Well, not us.” He steps towards you, hands settling on your hips. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited for you to show up.”

His words are nice, but you have some doubts lingering inside of you. “Would you fuck any girl who came here though?” you question. “Or am I special?”

“You’re special,” Seungcheol confirms. “You’ve got fire in you, I could tell from the moment we met.”

“Some people have called me a bitch before.”

“Well they can go fuck themselves,” he retorts quickly.

You laugh, looking around. “This is a nice room.”

“It wasn’t my original room, but once I realized I was staying here, I scouted out all the empty places to find my favourite.”

Your gaze shift up, and you notice that the ceiling is covered in mirrors. “I can’t escape these fucking mirrors.”

“These ones are fun though,” Seungcheol insists.

“Yeah? How’s that?” You wrap your arms around the back of Seungcheol’s neck, pulling him closer with a grin.

“Because… I can watch you when you’re riding me. You can see my sexy back when I’m fucking you. It’s just a good set up.” 

“And I guess you haven’t really had a chance to test it out before,” you muse.

“Not with another person.”

It takes you a second to realize what he’s saying, and then you laugh. “Cheol, are you telling me you watch yourself jack off with these mirrors?”

“It’s not like I have access to porno mags or anything!” he defends himself.

God, he’s from the seventies- did they even have easily accessible porn then? 

You push the thought out of your brain as you move closer to him, until your lips are just milimeters apart. “Now you have me.” 

“I do, don’t I,” he grins, tightening his grip on your hips. 

“Uh huh,” you nod. “And I haven’t been properly fucked in a while.”

“I bet I have you beat on that one.”

“Better make up for your lost time, big guy.”

“Better make this sin worth it,” he counters, and with that, he presses his lips to your own.

You smirk into the kiss, pressing your chest against his own as you wrap your arms around the back of his neck. It’s a mad flurry of tongue and teeth, no being cautious as he had been on the hill earlier.

No, this time, you know exactly what you want from each other, and there’s a freeing feeling in that.

He’s quick to guide you toward the bed, and when he gets you there, he pushes you down onto it. His hands quickly tear at your shirt and you raise your arms to allow him to easily take it off of your body.

Seungcheol sinks to his knees on the ground, his lips attacking your throat and descending down to your breasts. Two large hands grab at your tits, massaging them through your bra. He’s practically motorboating his face against you now, groaning into your cleavage.

“Take off my bra,” you tell him. “Suck on my tits.”

Seungcheol chuckles, but one swipe of his hand behind your back has your bra coming undone, and you realize that despite his forced celibacy, he hasn’t lost his touch.

Your bra slips off, and Seungcheol immediately picks up where he left off, but this time, he has access to your bare skin,

He grabs your breasts, pulling one nipple into his mouth while you throw your head back and moan.

It takes you a second, but you have the idea to open your eyes, and when you do, the mirrored ceiling gives you the perfect view of this man kneeling on the ground and sucking your breasts.

There’s something sexy about the view, and when you thread your fingers through his curls, it makes things even hotter.

Seungcheol groans, roughly tugging your nipple between his teeth and making you cry out.

“Shorts next,” he instructs, pulling away so you can both work on getting you fully naked for him.

It’s a little shocking how fast this is all going, but you don’t mind. Lust is fueling every cell of your body, and before you know it, Seungcheol is pushing you so you’re flat on your back. He places your thighs on his shoulders, and then he dives into your core with his mouth.

You whimper at the sensation of him sucking on your clit lewdly, and again, when you look up, you can see the view.

Fuck, with him now bending half over the bed like this, you can see his shoulders even better.

He’s so broad and strong and sexy, and it makes your core pulse with pleasure as he eats you out like he’s been starved for fifty years, which he has.

 “Just like that,” you tell him, bringing your hands up to play with your nipples, loving the view of it all.

Seungcheol shifts, and then you feel a finger push into your entrance. He doesn’t go slow with it, he immediately starts pumping, fucking you while he licks and sucks on your clit roughly.

There’s no tact in his motions, no precision, he’s a wild man, and you suppose that fits his rockstar soul.

There’s something so sexy about this animalistic way he’s treating you, and when he groans against your clit, your entire body lights up with pleasure.

He has you closer to the edge than you’d ever imagined possible in such a short time, but you wonder if perhaps your body has been in need of some stress relief like this after such a crazy few days.

Another finger slips inside of you and you moan, reaching one hand to tangle in his hair again.

As much as you want to close your eyes and enjoy this, you can’t bear to look away from the view.

God, it’s absolutely glorious.

This gorgeous, beefy man, is practically ravaging you on a bed with silk sheets, worshipping your pussy with his tongue and fingers while you watch, enthralled with it all.

You can hear your core getting wetter, and with each thrust of his fingers you can feel your juices. His tongue circles your clit in the perfect way and your stomach muscles begin to clench, signaling your impending high.

“I’m gonna cum,” you tell him, swallowing thickly even as you pinch your own nipple, writhing against the bed.

Seungcheol only growls in response, and the sound turns you on even more.

Within a few seconds, you’re coming undone, releasing a cry of pleasure as your body is flooded with euphoria.

Your hips push up against Seungcheol’s face, but his free hand pins you down, his tongue unrelenting on your clit.

Now, you have to force your eyes shut. It’s all you can do to contain the ecstasy he’s providing you, an electric feeling that’s surging through your entire body unlike anything else.

“Fuck, fuck- Cheol!” you gasp, wriggling in his grasp.

He pulls off your clit with a pop, and you can feel him looking up at you as he removes his fingers.

Then he stands, and you open your eyes to look at him.

“Here,” Seungcheol leans over you, and then he pushes his fingers into your mouth, “want you to taste yourself.”

All you can do is stare up at him in shock, lust overtaking you as you suck his digits off diligently. You even grab his hand to steady him, not wanting him to pull away until you’ve licked him clean.

“That’s a good girl,” Seungcheol groans. 

When you’re done with him, you release his hand, and Seungcheol pulls away with a deep breath.

“Can you suck cock like that?” he asks, undoing his towel so it can fall to the floor.

His hard length immediately slaps up against his abdomen, and you can see beads of precum dripping down his shaft. God, he’s super turned on, and your pussy pulses at the mere sight of him.

“Gonna give you the best head you’ve had in fifty years,” you promise.

“Ha ha,” Seungcheol says, but there’s little humour in it. 

You sit up, and then, you stand. He gives you a confused look, but when you push him down onto the bed, things seem to click for him.

You take your spot on your knees, where he’d just been, and this time, it’s your turn to push his legs slightly open, giving yourself space as you grab the base of his cock.

“Don’t cum in my mouth,” you warn.

“No?”

“Want you to cum inside me, don’t wanna waste a drop.”

“Fuck,” Seungcheol groans as you put your mouth onto his tip, sucking and licking with all the enthusiasm he’d just given you. 

His hands immediately grab at you, pushing your hair out of your face. He holds you gently as you sink more and more of him into your mouth, swirling your tongue to tease every inch of skin that you can.

“Shit, feels good,” he tells you, collecting your hair into a ponytail to make things easier.

You hum against him and his hips twitch at the stimulus.

“Fuck-” he says again, and you’d bet your life - or maybe your afterlife - that he’ll be swearing a lot. 

He’s a man who hasn’t felt the touch of a woman in fifty years, you would blame him if he’s quick to bust?

“Keep going, fuck,” Seungcheol groans, applying some pressure to your head.

You don’t mind that he’s beginning to get rough with you, and you diligently sink further onto his cock, taking him all the way to the back of your throat. You gag a little around him, and Seungcheol releases his loudest moan yet, tightening his grip in your hair.

“Keep doing that, fuck, keep doing that!” he encourages you. 

You do your best to relax your throat, wanting to please him, to give him the best blowjob he’s ever had. You have always found satisfaction when pleasing others, call it a trauma thing or whatever you want to call it, but his pleasure is your pleasure, and you can feel yourself getting wetter by the second as you listen to his moans.

“Shit, I’m close,” Seungcheol tells you.

With those words, you immediately pull off of him, and he looks down at you in shock. 

“You’re not cumming in my mouth, remember?”

“Please?”

“No.” 

You stand up, staring down at this man, who suddenly looks very needy. Then, you push at his chest, prompting him to lay flat against the bed while his knees are still bent, feet on the ground.

One of your own knees makes contact with the bed, and then the other, so you’re straddling him now.

“You said you wanted to watch me ride you,” you remind him. “So watch me ride.”

You grab the base of his cock, lining it up with your core, then you sink down onto him fully.

He’s big, and you feel the stretch, but you’re so wet from this that your lubrication makes the actual taking of his cock much easier than you’d imagined. God, when you pause for a moment, fully seated on him, you both groan from the pleasure… then you begin to bounce.

“Jesus Christ,” Seungcheol whispers, one hand grabbing your hip while the other latches onto your breast. He pinches your nipple between two fingers and you whimper, throwing your head back.

You look up at the ceiling, watching yourself ride this beautiful man.

The view makes your core throb, and you can feel your pussy clamping down around him, which earns another groan from the man you’re riding.

“You look so fucking good like this,” Seungcheol tells you, sitting up and using his hand as a brace against the bed so he can wrap his mouth around your nipple.

You grab him, threading your fingers through his hair and using him as an anchor as you move on his cock, bouncing to the best of your ability even in this position.

Again, you find yourself looking at the view, and you realize maybe this is a completely new kink of yours that you’d never discovered before.

“Okay, okay,” Seungcheol grabs your hips, making you stop. “My turn now.”

“Your turn?” you scoff.

“My turn,” he confirms.

Then, he’s standing up, and taking you with him. His hands grab your ass, keeping you pinned to his body while you squeal with delight, latching onto his shoulders.

“Wanna fuck you doggy first,” he tells you.

“So original,” you roll your eyes.

“Gonna make you regret that, gorgeous,” Seungcheol laughs.

“Then do it.”

With a shake of his head, he throws you onto the mattress, and with one quick manhandle, he has you on your knees with your ass in the air.

He’s standing at the foot of the bed, and he grabs your hips with one hand, his cock with the other. His tip finds your entrance, and with one rough thrust, he’s buried inside of you again.

“Fuck!” you whimper, arching your back and bracing your cheek against the sheets.

“Feels good, huh?” he asks, immediately picking up a pace that has your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

“Fuck, so good!” you moan, loving how deep he’s hitting, how rough he’s being.

A harsh smack erupts through the room, and you realize as the pain blooms like heat along your skin that he’s just spanked you.

“Did you like that?” he asks.

“Maybe?” You’re not sure how you feel about the sensation, but when a second smack comes, you jolt, your pussy clamping tight around Seungcheol’s cock.

“You liked it, didn’t you?” he teases.

“No!” you insist, but you can’t help the fact that you had enjoyed it, and you can tell from the gush of wetness you feel in your core that it will be clear to Seungcheol that you liked it as well. 

“Keep lying to yourself,” he laughs, his hand returning to your hip so he can fuck you even harder.

You enjoy the feeling of this for a while, but soon, you’re practically itching for another hit of pain.

“Spank me again,” you tell him.

“Hmm? Didn’t quite hear you.”

“Spank me!” you say, louder this time. “Please!”

Another chuckle escapes the smug bastard behind you. “Only because you asked so nicely.”

One more spank becomes three, and you’re a whimpering mess at the end of it, clawing at the blankets like a whore.

“Guess we’re going to have to explore this pain kink of yours,” Seungcheol teases. “But first, I think I’m gonna cum in this perfect pussy and mark it as mine.”

You’re so overwhelmed by how good this has felt that you can’t even find the words to respond, but you don’t have to.

Seungcheol pulls out of your pussy, and then he adjusts you on the bed, pushing you closer to the pillows so when he joins between your legs, he has space to plank over you in missionary.

His cock enters you, his lips finding your throat, and as you stroke his powerful shoulders, you find yourself blinking up at your reflection. 

You’re watching yourself sin, but you’re entirely okay with it.

You’re listening to him pant in your ear as he gets closer and closer to the edge, but you kind of love it.

This hotel might be a place to overcome sins, but you’re not sure how anything this perfect - this natural - could ever be considered wrong.

“I’m close,” Seungcheol whispers, sucking on your earlobe.

“Then cum inside of me, give me all of it,” you tell him, tightening your grip on his shoulders.

“Fuck,” Seungcheol groans, pressing his lips to your own. He kisses you desperately as his hips falter, his pace becoming erratic.

You can feel the moment he explodes, can feel his cock throbbing hard as he shoots his cum deep inside of you. He fills you up with warmth, and it feels like completion as he groans, half collapsing on top of you from the effort.

The kiss breaks, and you stroke his hair as he pants against your throat. Your eyes never leave your own in your reflection of the mirror over the bed.

Jeonghan might have put you in this place, but you’re the master of your own fate, and this is the direction you’ve chosen. 

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! I'm going to miss this au.

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🔮 preview.   When Seungcheol thrusts, it pushes you onto Mingyu, and when he pulls back, he pulls you with him, effectively controlling the pace of absolutely everything. Seungcheol might be working on his envy streak, but he’s as controlling as ever… although, you kind of love that about him. Sure, he’s a flawed man, but he’s your flawed man, and as he begins to fuck you rougher and harder, you know that you’d never give this up, not even for Heaven itself. 

cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, threesome, pussy eating, blow job, fingering, multiple reader orgasms, use of mirrors, masturbation, controling/dom Seungcheol, dirty talk, praise, slight degradation, spanking, deep throating, eiffle tower/spit roasting, etc…   I petnames. (hers) gorgeous. 

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 3.1k I teaser wc. 150

🌙 starring. Seungcheol & Mingyu x afab!Reader

bonus

You’re sitting at The Hotel California bar with Seungcheol. The two of you enjoy having a few drinks before a night of raunchy sexual escapades, and at first, this is a night like any other… until, you hear a new voice and turn to see a stranger talking to Jeonghan by the front desk.

You can’t help the look you immediately exchange with Seungcheol.

The two of you have spent months- years even, enjoying each other, and one thing you’ve always discussed bringing into the bedroom to spice it up, is another person. However, no one currently at the hotel has ever caught your eye, so you’d agreed that if anyone new showed up… you two might give them a try.

Now, with a tall, dark and handsome stranger standing just meters away, you think you may have found your new third, and excitement bubbles up inside of you.

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[loveletterlore]

when the cracks begin to show ♡ b.b. x reader

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

summary: Bucky and the reader are working with the Avengers, a brutal pair on missions. Over time, Bucky notices the reader struggling with the horror they've experienced, and fights to show them that he's there, they can do this together.

warnings: very evident trauma, reader can't remember their past, panic attacks, descriptions of trauma responses, a lot of tears and sadness, general angst and fluff

word count: 2.9k

authors note: i used to write fics for bucky in another life and it was such a homecoming writing for him again, loml

The past few missions had been very successful. Terrorist groups thwarted, military-grade equipment seized and decommissioned, kidnapped scientists returned to their labs. A large part of that success was down to your presence on those missions, your skill as an agent not going unnoticed by the team.

You had been working with the Avengers and SHIELD for a couple of years after your escape from that shitty town, where your body and mind hadn’t been your own, controlled by another. Training and living with the team had allowed you to expand your skills and hone your abilities, especially when you had started getting assigned missions with the big guys themselves.

In recent months, a relationship with Bucky had blossomed, bonding over past traumas, shared distaste for criminal overlords and an appreciation for simply beating the shit out of a punching bag. Evenings shared lying on the sofa, watching a movie or just talking until the moonlight illuminated the carpet had deepened your bond. It was no longer clear where one person ended and the other began.

On missions, the two of you were a brutal pair. Everyone knew of Bucky’s past, so it was easy to make the connections there. You, however, were a bit of an enigma - it was hard to share about a past that you couldn’t recall yourself. The team knew that when both of your names were on the roster, there would be no-one left behind.

Over the past few missions, you had become noticeably more callous. It took you longer to come out of the dissociative headspace you found yourself in during those fights. You tried to counteract it by emphasising your presence when you were able to, but Bucky could tell straight away. 

Bucky knew better than most how triggers could manifest in a soul, how a smile could hide horrors unknowable to normal men. 

He tried to talk to you about it at first.

“Hey, doll,” steam drifted from the bathroom as you emerged through the door, drying your hair harshly with a towel. It was ritualistic, the way you took a shower after returning from a mission. 

You forced your eyes up to meet his penetrating gaze, plastering a smile across your lips.

“Hey, your turn,” you forced a chuckle, which rattled through your empty chest. 

He hummed in response, “Come sit for a minute.”

You perch on the edge of the bed and Bucky immediately feels the distance between you. He shifted his hand slightly, moving it closer to you. Your eyes immediately settled on it, your heart screaming out for you to grasp it, to never let it go. But you couldn’t.

“Darlin’,” Bucky’s eyes scoured your face for any signs of life. “Tell me.”

Your breathing shortened, hard and fast, “Tell you what?” Your voice was quieter than anticipated and you cursed yourself for sounding weak.

“Anything,” Bucky reached out, grabbing your hand and rubbing small circles with his thumb.

The movement broke your heart, why couldn’t you just let him in?

“I’m okay, really,” you squeezed his hand, looking up into his eyes. “Just tired.”

Bucky knew better than to push, he didn’t want to risk any more damage than had clearly already been done. He pulled you towards him, enveloping you in his arms. You rested your head in the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent.

You hoped he didn’t feel the tear that fell from your eye.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Bedsheets gathered around your feet from your rapid movements, a thin layer of sweat glistening on your body. The air, hot and heavy, weighed you down, crushing your chest as your lungs tried to heave in oxygen.

You were vaguely aware that your arms were being held down, something stronger than you preventing them from thrashing back and forward. Your voice was hoarse from rasping shouts, crying out in pain.

Darlin’, I’m right here, you’re okay.

His voice broke through the haze, the clouds starting to clear. Your heart pounded in your chest, so forceful you swore it would go right through your ribs. Your limbs went from powerful beatings to controlled shaking as you started to retreat into yourself, curling into your chest. 

Bucky tilted your head so that your ear was flush against his chest, his heartbeat ruminating through your body. Unconsciously, you synced your breathing with his as he pulled you to lie on top of him, hands stroking up and down your arms. You lay for what felt like hours until you had the strength to speak.

“I’m sorry,” your skin was sticky with sweat, peeling your face from his bare chest. You pressed a kiss to his shoulder, right where the skin connected to metal.

“Don’t apologise,” Bucky murmured, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “How many times have we done this, the other way around?”

An absentminded smile tugged at your lips, the love between the two of you palpable. Bucky’s hand reached up to tangle in your hair, massaging your head. Soon enough, your soft snores vibrated his chest as you fell back to sleep.

Bucky spoke softly, cautious not to wake you up, “God, what are we gonna do?”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The missions kept coming and you ended up further and further from him. 

Your vision blurred as you spun, a dagger flying from your hand. A grunt escaped you as you dropped to one knee, throwing a body over your shoulder and driving your foot down into their chest. Air caught in your chest as you scanned the horizon, looking for the next target.

Blood rushed in your ears, heart pounding a fast, strong rhythm. The field was clear, you had taken out the enemy group, leaving none behind. You stood quickly, dizziness washing over you as you nearly lost your footing. You quickly realised you had been holding your breath, your lungs burning as you gasped, trying to inhale as much oxygen as you could.

A high pitched ringing deafened you as you clapped your palms over your ears, wincing from the pain. Your eyes squeezed shut as a scream brewed in your stomach. 

Hands appeared on yours, sending you flying back in self-defense. You raised your fists, armed within a split-second and prepared for combat. 

Brown eyes bore into yours, piercing through the haze you were stuck in. Your head screamed to go to him, your heart bursting out of your chest as your breathing continued to pick up, head going woozy with lack of oxygen. 

Muffled speech echoed in your ears, a familiar voice trying desperately to get through to you. 

Doll, can you hear me? It’s gonna be alright, I’ll get you out of here. You did it, you’re okay.

Suddenly, you became aware that your face was wet, but you couldn’t summon the strength to raise your hands. 

Bucky stepped toward you, hands outstretched as a sign of safety. Your body began to shake as the adrenaline coursing through your veins wore off and you dwindled back to your body, broken and afraid. Bucky placed a hand on your arm, wincing as he saw the blood instantly staining his glove. You weren’t even aware you had been hit, your body hadn’t registered the pain yet.

“Hey darl’, I got you,” Bucky lifted you into his arms, cradling you as he spotted the blood seeping from a gash on your side. More concerning than the rate of blood leaving your body was the lack of expression on your face, your consciousness still miles away. 

Bucky ran back to the Quinjet, laying you on the table in the center and sweeping your hair out of your face. A small wince crossed your face as you flinched at the touch, an unconscious reaction. 

The remainder of the mission team loaded back onto the Quinjet, staying clear of the pair of you after seeing the hard lock of Bucky’s jaw. He pressed his hand on your side, trying to stem the bleeding.

You gritted your teeth, eyes still closed, at the pressure and huffed out a shallow breath. 

“I know, I’m sorry doll,” Bucky’s jaw was clenched shut, half from fear and half from indignation. He couldn’t let this keep happening.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“You can’t keep sending them out there,” Bucky’s hands were on his hips, pacing the board room. “They’re not doing well, surely you can see that.”

“I mean, they’ve always been a bit out of it after a mission, are you sure it’s not just that?” Tony replied, sighing a deep breath.

Bucky’s fists tensed and flexed as he bit the inside of his lip, “I’m pretty damn sure. Look, either you take them off duty or I find another way, which would more than likely involve some of your lovely new equipment not looking so lovely.”

“Look here, Tin Man,” Tony stood, raising a pointed finger before stopping, sighing. They’re one of the best agents we have, if it wasn’t for the two of you, half of these missions wouldn’t be anywhere near as successful as they are. I understand your point but unfortunately, my hands are tied.”

Bucky growled, running a hand through his hair, “Take it from me, if there is one mistake, one trigger, this is all going to explode. They are going to explode. And I don’t know if I’ll be able to put them back together.”

“Sarge, we’ve been through this before. Hey, if it makes you feel any better I’ll take them off the missions for this week, but there’s nothing I can do beyond that. And if they ask, I’m telling them it was you.”

Bucky let his shoulders drop, taking anything he could get at this point. He nodded toward Tony before leaving the room, heading down the hallway.

Reaching your room, he paused, resting his head against the door. He knew you were inside - you didn’t leave your room much anymore - but he could hardly bear to see the shell of the person he loved more than the world itself. 

Taking a deep breath, he pushed the door open slowly, revealing your figure sat before the vanity, brushing your hair absentmindedly. Your gaze was faraway, not even blinking. The door handle clicked as it rebounded off of the wall, Bucky grimacing at the sound.

You flinched, the hairbrush flying out of your hand in Bucky’s direction and jumping to your feet. Blinking once, then twice, you realised the man standing before you and panicked, forcing your eyes to his face.

“Hey Buck, you scared me,” you sighed, moving to sit on the bed.

Bucky grabbed the hairbrush, walking over to join you. He crawled over the bed, kneeling behind you and brushing a hand across your cheek.

“May I?” he spoke softly, barely more than a whisper. 

You nodded slowly, closing your eyes and finding comfort in sharing his space. A shiver tickled down your spine as the hairbrush glided through your hair, Bucky’s fingertips lightly touching your scalp. You leaned back to rest against his chest as he took care of you, being extra careful with any knots he encountered.

“You’re good at this,” your voice was small, almost as though you were sharing a secret.

“I had some practice,” Bucky smiled against you, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I ever tell you I have a sister?”

Your eyebrows knitted together as you turned to look at him, seeing a sad, contemplative smile on his face. “You never said.”

“Yeah, a little sister. ‘S called Rebecca, I used to help her with her hair if my mom was busy before school. Got pretty good at it too, hence my own,” he shook his head, messing his hair to emphasize the point. 

You reached up, brushing the hair back out of his face and cupping his cheeks with your hands. His eyes met yours, glazed over at the memory. Your thumb brushed across his lips and he turned to kiss the palm of your hand.

“Talk to me doll,” Bucky whispered, leaning forward to nuzzle his nose against your cheek. “Please, I need you to talk to me, I need to help you.”

“Bucky-” you breathed.

“Doll, you know I’ve got you. Let me help you,” he punctuated his words with soft kisses against your cheek.

You inhaled his familiar scent, cedarwood and cinnamon tickling your nostrils, as you leaned further into him, craving his closeness.

“Okay,” you barely even spoke, the sound no more than a strangled breath from your throat.

Bucky drew away from you, studying your face before pulling you back into his lap, cradling you with his arms. 

“I don’t really know what happens,” you started, whispering as though shielding yourself from the truth of your words. “I mean, it’s always been kind of like this. It’s like I zone out for the mission, no distractions, then when we’re done it takes a while to zone back in.”

Bucky nodded slowly, one hand running over your hair while the other squeezes your hand soothingly. “I get ya, it’s not easy doing this.”

“Yeah,” you closed your eyes, leaning into his touch. “Recently, it’s like- it’s like I end up on another planet. I just can’t find my way back home.”

You sighed, a wave of regret washing over you. 

“I can feel it though, I’m trapped inside. I just can’t break through,” your chin started to tremble, fear coursing in your veins. “I can’t do it.”

Bucky pulled you into his chest, shushing the tears that began to fall. 

“I’m sorry, this isn’t fair to put on you,” you sobbed into Bucky, body shaking as your breath left faster than you could inhale.

“Darlin’, my beautiful darlin’,” Bucky whispered into your hair. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you right here.”

“It’s just so frustrating. I don’t even know where this comes from. Why can’t I just remember?”

There it was, the core of the issue. Bucky had thought himself damn unlucky to remember everything that HYDRA had put him through, especially given all the time since then where he had to relive it. Before meeting you, he hadn’t considered what it would be like to experience the flashbacks, the panic attacks, the meltdowns without even being able to pinpoint what was causing them.

Despite endless amounts of therapy, experiments from Tony and Bruce, medication, unhealthy amounts of self-medication, you still struggled to grasp more than a fleeting image from those years. You remembered brief moments as a child, surrounded by people you no longer recognise. There were images that came to you, but the person in them was unrecognisable - it was your face but there was nothing there.

Bucky rocked you slowly, his heart breaking at the sobs wracking your body. Your breathing was getting faster and faster, and thanks to Bucky’s enhanced hearing he could hear the blood pumping your accelerating heart. He had seen these symptoms many times, more in his own body than yours.

Lifting your hand to rest on his chest, he tilted your chin to force your eyes to his.

“Love,” he whispered, following by exaggerating his breathing. Tears flowed freely down your face as your eyes roamed his face, panic taking over. Your movements became frantic, hands shaking as you pulled yourself from his arms on shaky legs. “Doll?”

“I just- I just need-” your voice wobbled as you glanced at Bucky, seeing the troubled expression on his face, before running out of the door.

You didn’t know where you were going, you just knew you had to keep moving.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The bruises on your knuckles didn’t help. The pain in your wrists from the repeating motion didn’t help. The burning in your arms didn’t help.

You were sitting on the floor, legs splayed as you wrapped and re-wrapped your fists. You weren’t entirely sure how long you had been in the training room, it could have been hours or days. 

The door opened behind you, footsteps gentle but instantly recognisable. The time spent abusing the punching bag had allowed you to gather your thoughts, writing a script in your head.

“I want to get better, I do. I know I’ve not been showing that, but I want to get better. For me, for you, for us.”

You took a deep breath, eyes focused on your hands to avoid distracting yourself with his presence.

“It’s gonna take a lot of work. I mean, shit, it’s already taken nearly everything from me, but I won’t let it take you from me. I refuse,” you didn’t look up as you spoke, inherently knowing it was Bucky stood behind you.

“I want to help you, doll,” his voice was deep.

“I don’t know how to let you,” you turned then, meeting his eyes. “But I’m willing to try. You’ve already been through all of this, you’ve been to hell and back, I don’t know how you survived it my love.”

“It was worth it to get to you,” he stepped towards you, reaching for your hands. You grasped them, never wanting to let go again.

“You don’t have to do this again, I wouldn’t blame you if it was too much.”

“Doll,” Bucky took your face in his hands, resting his forehead on yours. “There is no world in which we are not together in this. If it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t be here and I mean that.  We’re gonna do this.”

“You and me.”

masterlist for more of my work <3

[be-xkyy]

Yandere Aegon II Targaryen x prostitute reader

Warning: sexual content, manipulation, prostitution, infidelity, infant death (jaehaerys), captivity, isolation, pregnancy, possessive Aegon, basically Reader's plan went wrong.

Tagging list: @kthehoeforfictionalmen ★ @dreamlessnight ★ @riawrld ★ @darkuni63 ★

I apologize if this is very "OOC" but I almost forgot about the serie since I'm waiting for the new season to come out so I can watch it again. This is a bit (very) long :) Reader's POV but I can do Aegon's POV if you want.

Likes are appreciated as it lets you know if you want a part 2.

Part 2?

You met Aegon when he started frequenting the brothel you worked at.

When you first saw him you thought he was handsome but what caught your attention most was his white hair.

A Targaryen. That's what he was, basically a gold mine with legs, you'd met a Targaryen before, specifically Daemon Targaryen, but this one didn't look like Daemon.

But even if this guy wasn't Daemon Targaryen, he would still be of some use. You went to investigate who he was with other prostitutes and you discovered him: Aegon Targaryen, the king's eldest son. Interesting.

You've heard about him before. The unelected "heir" to the throne, displaced in the name of Rhaenyra Targaryen, the king's firstborn, and you've also heard that he's a drunk and an unfaithful person.

That was sad for his wife but a blessing for you, a blessing you would gladly accept. That night you used your best seduction tricks to win his attention and get him into your bed. And it was a success.

It wasn't very difficult to convince him, in fact it was too easy, you just had to show a little skin and whisper sensually in his ear everything you wanted to do to him and he fell at your feet. Much to the displeasure of the other girls, but hey, it's not your fault that you're the most beautiful one in the place.

You took his hand and led him to your private chambers. When he entered you pushed him onto the bed and he made himself comfortable against the headboard looking at you while you released the lace of your dress that gathered at your feet, his eyes shining with desire looked at your naked body without shame, you walked slowly towards him like a feline before crawling and sitting on top of his hard member.

"Your Highness is very excited, all this because of me?"

You ask with a low purr as you move your hips deliciously over his hardened member against the fabric of his pants. He looks at you with eyes clouded by alcohol and desire, his hands grab your hips making you rub even more against his hardness.

"If you look at how hard you made me, take responsibility for this."

You waste no time as you quickly unbutton his pants and his cock stands proud as I slide his pants down his legs tossing them to the side, I quickly turn my attention back to him, my soft hands gripping his hard cock pressing and rubbing up and down I take a moment to admire the expanse of pale skin and the white hair at the base.

He has his eyes closed and from the sighs he lets out he's clearly enjoying this, I lick my lips and settle on top of him again guiding his cock into my wet pussy, the head makes its way into my folds sliding inside until I'm sitting on top of him with his cock deep inside me, he opens his eyes as I place his hands on my ass.

"You feel really good, pretty tight for a whore."

"You flatter me, Your Highness"

Your voice is a low purr even though you want to hit him for saying that to you, you begin to move your hips using your legs to bounce up and down on his cock, his hands squeeze the globes of your ass and you grab his cheeks joining his lips with yours in a lustful kiss.

You break the kiss and you're both in a frenzy, he uses his hands to move you more vigorously on top of him clearly seeking his own orgasm and you have to stop yourself from rolling your eyes, your orgasm building inside of you and you can feel his cock throbbing inside of you, you trail kisses down his jaw as your orgasm hits you followed by his and you feel his warm cum filling you.

He leans back exhausted and satisfied on the pillows still buried in you, you leave kisses along his jaw again and put your fingers in his hair making him close his eyes at the touch, you couldn't help but notice that he seems to like it a lot.

When he leaves he leaves you a bag of gold with the promise of returning soon and you smile happily at him, when you are finally alone you have someone bring you a cup of moon tea and you drink it all, even if he is your gold mine you are not going to have his bastard.

These encounters become a regular occurrence, long nights of wine, sex, and your adoration of Aegon, as it was obvious that he was seeking approval, which you gave him. Unbeknownst to you, Aegon's obsession with you began to grow. Only you didn't judge him or despise him; you loved and saw the real HIM.

Aegon was becoming more monopolistic over time not wanting you to be with any man or woman other than him, you foolishly took that as a sign that his love for you was solidifying and you would soon be able to achieve your goals. Not realizing that his true feelings were something much more dangerous.

One day after one of your encounters while he was lying on top of you with his head on your tits and you were caressing his white hair, you told him that you wanted to be a rich woman someday and be able to live in peace and luxury far from brothels. You tried to move his heart so that he would give you some title, some land and gold, you know, so you could live a full life.

"When my sister ascends the throne, I will ask her for gold to go to Essos. I'm sure everyone will be happy that I'm away. When that happens, I'll take you with me."

"That sounds like a good idea, Your Highness."

You were looking forward to that, you would take the gold and go to Essos, of course you would leave Aegon although it is somewhat fun his jealousy and possessiveness are starting to tire you out and you can't imagine yourself with him in the long term.

What you didn't know at the time was that Aegon, not Rhaenyra, would ascend to the throne, and that your dreams of freedom would be shattered...

Likes are appreciated as it lets you know if you want a part 2.

[silenceofserenity]

BNHA BOYS as book tropes - PART 2:

Pairing (s): bnha boys x gn! reader

↳ Includes: Sero, Shinsou, Shigaraki, Dabi & Hawks

Part 1 includes: Midoriya, Bakugo, Todoroki, Kirishima & Kaminari HERE

HANTA SERO

↳ FLIRTY FRIENDSHIP

the first day the two of you met, you bonded instantly

flirty banter has always been apart of your friendship - it's what makes sero and y/n, sero and y/n!

you two were hanging out after class, sitting on the roof of the school building to watch the sunset

your legs are stretched out as sero lays back against the bricks, taking a drag from his cigarette

"you're staring"

you scoff, "yeah right," but you were - just for a second at least

his head tilts up to face you with a lazy smirk, "nah i could feel it. you checking me out, l/n?"

"in your dreams, tape boy."

he taps his cigarette against the ledge, letting the ashes fall

"that wasn't a no"

he leans in slightly, "it's okay, you can admit it. i know i'm irresistible"

you exhale slowly, letting the wind fill in the silence before you turn your head to look him in the eyes

"you love hearing yourself talk, don't you?"

sero laughs and shuffles a little closer to you, "only because i know when i talk, you think about me"

the two of you had undeniable chemistry and even more undeniable banter, but you'd never really thought anything would come from it

"well... i'm thinking about pushing you off this building."

he chuckles and moves his cigarette higher to show you it, "can the pushing wait until after i've finished?"

HITOSHI SHINSOU

↳ FORCED PROXIMITY

you and shinsou were on a stakeout mission inside a cramped shed near a suspicious building

it was late and the silence stretched on longer than usual as you struggled to stay awake

however, he was fine, calm and focused all in one - not a single sign of fatigue

"how much longer do we have to stay here?"

"as long as it takes"

the night air was chilly and suddenly you were regretting not bringing an extra layer

"cold?"

you shrug, "what gave it away?"

he chuckles and throws you a thin jacket, "here. it's not much but it's better than nothing."

muttering a thanks, you put it on just in time to feel his skin graze past yours

"watch it"

"woahh, you say it like it's a problem y/n, but i don't see you moving away."

you look around and see that he is, in fact correct - there is plenty of room yet you're right beside him

"still... just don't get any funny ideas, shinsou."

he smirks, leaning in closer to you, "am i the only one with funny ideas here?"

a sudden noise outside cuts the moment short, causing you both to get back into hero mode

"looks like we have to save the funny ideas for later."

TOMURA SHIGARAKI

↳ OBSESSIVE (HERO X VILLAIN)

you were a pro-hero and he was the leader of the league of villains. opposites on paper but those lines blurred long ago

every time the two of you fight it feels more like a game - he enjoys you the chase

you stand in an alley, blood dripping from a fresh wound on your arm

"you're hurt."

shigaraki steps out of the shadows, red eyes watching you like prey

"stay back."

he doesn't listen, he never does.

"i could've killed you earlier," he tilts his head, "why do you think i didn't?"

you begin to activate your quirk, "because you'd miss me too much?"

he looks at you amused

"is that what you think? you talk big for someone bleeding out in an alley."

you swing at him but his gloved hand catches your wrist and pushes you against the wall

your quirk is powerful, yet you choose not to attack, why?

"you're always chasing me." he says mockingly, "but what if i just stopped running?"

"then i'd take you in myself."

he laughs in your face, "would you? or would you finally admit you like this chase just as much as i do?"

and just as fast as he came - he disappeared.

DABI

↳ "TOUCH THEM AND YOU DIE."

you and dabi aren't officially dating but everyone knows you're his

you were laying on the couch at the hideout, scrolling through your phone while Dabi leans against the bar, watching from afar

a new recruit, who you've been training lately walks over to you with a grin

he tries to strike up a conversation, touching your shoulder as he makes a joke

dabi's eyes flick between you and the new recruit in silence

he pushes off the bar and strolls over, placing his hand on his shoulder - mimicking what he did to you

a small flicker of blue flames burn into his skin

"i'd suggest you take your hand off them."

the guy winces in pain and stumbles back

"touch them again, and i'll make sure the only thing the heroes find are a pile of ashes."

dabi takes his hand off the new recruit, watching him stammer an apology and scurries off

"you're making me look really bad in front of the new recruits, you know?"

dabi stretches lazily, "didn't realise your ego was so fragile."

"you're deflecting" you say with narrowed eyes

his signature smirk finally reappears "and you're avoiding the fact that you like it when I get like this."

HAWKS

↳ FRIENDS W/ BENEFITS

you and Hawks are both pro heros working for the same company so you're often sent on missions together

after a long mission, he invites you to his apartment

"you've been looking at me weirdly all day"

you raise an eyebrow, "i think you're imagining things"

shuffling closer to you on the couch, he whispers in your ear "am i?"

the tension thickens and you're unsure of what to say, but you keep your eyes on him

"i think you want something"

straightening up, he keeps his confident persona, "and i think you know exactly what i mean."

you're speechless. how can someone be this bold?

"maybe i do. but what happens after?"

he reaches out to touch your thigh gently, "we'll figure it out later."

silence floods the room and you swear he could hear your heartbeat booming

in a quick movement he pulls you closer, waiting for some sort of response

caving in, you sigh and think for a moment

a nod, "just don't make it weird, yeah?"

"me? never." he smirks, "unless you wanted me too."

one moment of weakness led to something far more complicated than you had ever intended

and that's how it started.

[covenofagatha]

Hexed Hearts (Part 2)

The Interviews

The contestants are introduced and it's your first night as a producer—will you make Agatha proud?

Word count: 3.2k

Warnings: mentions of drug use and homophobia (using it to get a rise out of a contestant), manipulation, slowburn, agatha and reader aren't good people lol

“Welcome to season thirteen of Hexed Hearts,” Billy says, speaking right into the camera with Rio smiling next to him. This is his fifth year as the host and he’s just as cheesy as all the others. “Thirteen—what some may consider to be an unlucky number. But for our suitress, Rio Vidal, this may be the luckiest eight weeks of her life.” 

Agatha snorts and you glance at her from where you’re perched on the edge of her desk. She let you stay to watch the opening scenes in her office before the real work begins. “Did he just imply on live television that our girl is going to be drowning in pussy the next two months?” 

“I don’t think that’s what he was trying to do,” you hastily say, brows furrowing as your brain rakes over the double meaning. 

“I’d cut and make him redo it but I really don’t care,” Agatha sighs. She grabs her walkie-talkie and presses the button. You wince at the static. “Do we have limo three yet? The first one is pulling up right now, so if we don’t, you have about fifteen minutes to get me three or you’re fired.” 

Someone sputters out a “Yes, ma’am, they just got onto the property” and the line goes quiet. 

Agatha shakes her head and pinches the bridge of her nose. “For once, I’d like to work with people who aren’t complete idiots.” You shift awkwardly on her desk and she winks at you—is she telling you that you aren’t a complete idiot? 

You should stop reading into things. 

“Alright, these will be your girls,” she says, nodding at the first limo that stops at the top of the roundabout driveway on the screen. 

Billy turns to Rio and gives her two thumbs up. Agatha swears under her breath behind you. Her long-standing annoyance with the hosts on this show is one of your favorite things about her. “He’s so fucking embarrassing,” she mutters and you stifle a laugh.

“Now, Rio, your true love could be sitting in one of these four limos. Are you ready to meet them?” he asks and Rio’s eyes flash with sarcastic excitement. 

“God, you’d think after all we’re doing for her, she could manage to look like she actually wants to be here,” Agatha says and you hum. “We should’ve put you on the show instead.” 

Your head whips around to her. “Me? Be the suitress?” 

Her smile is teasing but she leans back in her chair and raises an eyebrow. “You’re pretty, you’re young. What—don’t tell me you wouldn’t like having thirty-two women all over you?” 

There’s no way your cheeks could get any hotter. “Um, I mean, it’s not—I work here and I’m not really looking for anything right now.” She chuckles at your stammering and sits up to pat your hand. You swallow roughly to ignore the sparks that shoot through you. “What about you? You could definitely be on it.” 

“Oh, yeah?” she says, smirking, and you inwardly kick yourself. First, she thinks you’re trying to sleep with her because of your comment about getting on your knees and now you’re basically telling her that you think she’s attractive. 

Thankfully, the first contestant gets out of the limo, sparing you the humiliation of having to think of a response to her. 

It’s Helen Troywick, your pick to be the wife. She’s wearing a long blue gown that accentuates her curves perfectly and her blonde hair falls in loose curls down past her shoulders. The graphic on the screen says she’s from Orlando, Florida and her fun fact is that she owns three dogs, two cats, and four chickens. 

“Who is in charge of these facts?” Agatha scoffs. “No one gives a fuck that she lives in a petting zoo.” You shoot her a bemused look and she shrugs. Helen gives Rio a polite hug and you see Rio check out her ass when Helen goes to stand behind them. 

Next is Valerie Chase, a tall redhead from Chigaco, Illinois in a white gown. Her jaw is square and her eyes are wide. 

“Please tell me that doesn’t actually say she’s allergic to shellfish,” Agatha groans. You have a sneaking suspicion that someone is getting fired. 

Cassandra Infidelis, from Charleston, South Carolina, steps out after, with thick lips and bushy, dark hair, in a well-tailored green suit. Agatha makes a quip about how that’s not the color she would’ve chosen. You’ve never really heard much of her commentary, always too busy running around with errands during this part of the show, but you’re realizing just how funny your boss is. Cassandra timidly shakes Rio’s hand and you know you’re going to have to do a little work with her. 

“She had a bad drug problem,” Agatha murmurs. “Went to rehab for a year. Hasn’t touched anything since then, not even alcohol. Why didn’t they make that her fun fact?” Cassandra apparently has traveled to thirty-five states; a fact fun to assuredly no one watching the show. 

Jennifer Kale, from Trenton, New Jersey, follows in a pink dress and a determined look on her face. Her fun fact is that she’s an expert in aromatherapy. She struts right up to Rio and grasps her hand. “Jennifer Kale. Your future wife.” 

Agatha slowly claps at her boldness. “Alright, at least someone came to play. Unlike Miss I-don’t-know-my-right-shade over there.” Cassandra is standing next to Valerie off to the side, looking rather dejected, and you sigh. 

“Cassandra's definitely not wife material, but maybe she has villain potential?” you offer and feel Agatha’s eyes on you. “You know, bored and uninterested, we probably could use her to start some feuds.” 

She makes a noncommittal sound. “I think we break her. Audiences love watching contestants go crazy. You use her history, poke around, get her feeling emotional—bonus points if she cries on camera—and then bam. Either Rio looks like the jerk who cuts the recovering addict, or she keeps her around and Cassie becomes the ticking time bomb. No matter what, we’ll have a great sound byte for the promo.” 

You swallow roughly and turn back to the screen, a pit starting to form in your stomach. Of course you knew that manipulating and preying on the contestants’ emotions was part of the job, but it’s still a tough thing to actually do. 

“Hey,” she says, uncharacteristically gentle. Her eyes soften when you look at her. “I’ll help you the whole time, okay? I know you’re new, I don’t expect you to be perfect right off that bat. I know you won’t let me down.” 

It makes you feel better and you nod. She smiles. After the next few contestants, they all start to blur together—even Agatha gets bored and stops making comments, except for a few here and there. 

Once everyone’s out of the limos, Billy leads them on a quick tour of the mansion, shows them their room assignments, and then takes them out back to the expansive backyard, complete with a pool, a buffet of finger foods, and a fireplace. 

This is where you come in. While the cameras get B-footage, it’s your job to get Agatha moments that she can use. 

“Alright, superstar,” she says, pulling an earpiece and a walkie talkie out of a drawer and setting them down next to you, “let’s see what you’re made of.” 

You gulp and put the piece into your ear and adjust it before clipping the walkie talkie to your belt. Agatha gives you a tight smile and you walk out of the office, through the control room, and outside. The air is humid and you swat at the flies swarming around you. 

The girls might get eaten alive. If there’s one thing that isn’t sexy, it’s bug bites. 

Shouldering open the heavy door to the mansion, you marvel at the high ceilings and the marble tile and the columns that shape out the living room. Even though you’ve been in here a million times, it never gets old. You make a beeline for the French doors out to the patio when you hear high heels clacking down the staircase. 

It’s Rio. Your hand pauses on the handle to watch as she descends, carefully holding her gown up. Why isn’t she outside?

When she reaches the bottom, she finally looks up and sees you. Her eyes rake over you, taking in your tattered jeans and hoodie, and a slow smile spreads over her face. “Must’ve missed your introduction earlier,” she says, voice smooth as honey. 

Your cheeks flush. “Oh, I’m not one of them. I’m a producer.” 

“Could’ve fooled me,” she smirks. Is the suitress of the reality show you work for flirting with you? 

“Either get a room or get out there and do your job,” Agatha scoffs in your ear and you jump. You forgot she could listen to everything. 

“We should both probably get out there,” you tell Rio, opening the door and getting hit by a blast of heat. 

She rolls her eyes. “Why, so I can be pounced on by thirty-two women?” 

Agatha was definitely right about her attitude. “You know that’s the point of the show, right? And you’re sending nine home tonight, so you need to get out there so you can make your choice.” 

“Ooh, the kitten has claws,” Rio mocks, stepping closer until she’s two feet away from you. “You already know who you want me to send home, don’t you? Why don’t you just tell me the right answers and then we can sneak off? You know, I have my own private suite as the suitress.” 

“What the fuck are you doing?” Agatha exclaims in your ear. You wince. “If you’re seduced by her I swear to god I will fire you so fast.” Her lack of faith is disheartening—does she really think you’d be swayed that easily by a known womanizer? 

Rio reaches out to touch you but you step back. “It’s up to you to decide who stays and who goes,” you say robotically, “which means you need to get out there and talk to them. And try to look like you’re enjoying yourself, yeah?” 

She pouts petulantly. “But you’ll be there the whole time right?” 

You jerk your head in the direction of the pool and Rio sighs before hiking up her dress and walking outside. A dozen of the contestants flock to her immediately and you can’t help but feel a little bad for her. 

It must take a lot of attention and a lot of energy to be the suitress on a show like this and Rio clearly doesn’t want to be here. You can understand her desire to please her parents by trying to work on her public image, but there must’ve been a better way to do it than a reality dating show. 

“There we go, hon,” Agatha says and there’s a flicker of heat in your stomach. “Now get out there and start talking to your girls. Get them spilling secrets and ready to drop their panties. I’d start with Cassandra.” 

Cassandra is sitting on one of the sofas all alone, munching on some grapes. There’s a group of five girls standing about ten yards away and they keep looking over at her and giggling. 

On your way over to her, one of the other contestants grabs your arm and pulls you to the side. It’s Jez St. Clare, one of Lilia’s girls. You rack your brain for anything about her but come up empty—she must’ve been one of the throwaways. 

“Hey,” she hisses and you wrench your arm free of her grasp. “What’s the read on Rio? How do I get her to like me?” 

You plaster a fake smile onto your face. This isn’t one of your girls and you’re not too fond of her just based on this interaction. “Oh my gosh, I was just talking to Rio actually and she is totally into you,” you gush in a falsetto. 

Jez gasps. “Are you serious?” 

Nodding eagerly, you clasp her hands. “I’m so serious. Now, here’s what you need to do. Rio’s used to making the first move—big time player, always the chaser, you know the type. You need to turn the tables on her. Take the initiative, show her just how interested you are in her. She lives for grand gestures of affection so don’t be shy.” 

Maybe this will get Rio off your back as well because you know that she’s only going to get you into trouble with Agatha. 

Jex smiles and squeezes your hands. “I know just what to do, thank you.” You watch in amusement as she sashays over to where Rio’s lounging in the middle of six women and drapes herself on Rio’s lap, arms moving around her shoulders. 

Rio looks taken aback but finds your eyes across the patio and you can see a glint of recognition on her face. She tips her head down as if to acknowledge it. She might be smarter than you or anyone on the show realized. 

“Sabotaging Lilia’s girl. I like it,” Agatha purrs, and then laughs loudly when Jez squirms in Rio’s lap, reaches up under her own mid-thigh length dress, and slides her underwear down her legs. Rio all but pushes Jez off her lap when Jez offers her the panties while there’s a mixed reaction of wolf whistles and disgusted looks from the women around. “She’ll be gone tonight. Let’s make sure we get something good from her when she gets cut.” 

You smile to yourself, pleased with Agatha’s validation, before making your way to Cassandra, dodging the others trying to get your attention. 

“Hey, Cassandra, could I steal you for a second? Just want to get a quick interview?” you ask and she agrees in a light southern accent, uttering the first words she’s said all night. You pull her off to the side and motion for one of the camera guys to come over. The gaggle of girls inches closer to hear what you’re talking about. 

Cassandra picks at an imaginary lint on her suit nervously and Agatha tells you to start with some softball questions before getting into the tough stuff. 

“So Cassandra—Cassie?—Cass? Do you have a preference?” 

She shrugs. “Any of them are fine.” 

“Okay, perfect. Um, so why don’t you tell us a little bit about how excited you are to be here, why you wanted to do this, you know—just a little bit about you.” 

Nodding, she takes a deep breath. “Yeah, so I grew up in Charleston with my family and then moved away for college and then went back. I work at a diner in town and being from the south, I haven’t had much luck finding love and my friends told me I should do this. They actually sent in an application for me, so I didn’t know I was on the show until like two weeks ago.” 

Your eyebrow raises. That might explain her stoic demeanor. “So, your friends and family, they’re supportive?” 

“Nice segue!” Agatha chirps in your ear. 

Cass shifts uncomfortably and fixes the lapels of her blazer. “My friends, yes. My family…not so much. They do try, you know, but they’re very religious and there’s not many people like me back home. They’re pretty big fans of this show but I know they’re not watching this season.” 

“Get her talking about the drugs.” You swallow roughly at Agatha’s command and your fingers twitch against your jeans like you want to fight against it. “Ease her into it. I know you can do it, honey.” 

You straighten up and nod imperceptibly. “I imagine that must’ve been pretty tough, growing up with that. Was it hard to cope?” 

She seems to slouch into herself and you watch with bated breath. “I mean, yeah, it was kind of tough. I didn’t have the healthiest ways of managing the stress I was feeling and I regret some of the things I did.” 

“Come on, hon, finish strong. You’re almost done and you’re doing great.” 

“Like—” There’s a lump in your throat and you cough. Cass is staring at you, waiting for you to continue, but you’re not sure you can. It’s too cruel and you wonder if it’s worth it. 

“Honey,” Agatha says warningly, “don’t disappoint me. I went out on a limb making you a producer—show me I was right. I know you won’t let me down.” 

You meet Cass’s eyes and slowly exhale. “Like drugs?” 

She visibly flinches and the group of girls eavesdropping gasps loudly and then starts muttering among themselves. Cass’s breathing gets heavy and she stands up. “What? I don’t know what you’ve heard but that is not true. I don’t do drugs! I haven’t—you—you’re a fucking bitch.” 

All it takes is a wave of your hand and the cameraman runs after her as she storms off, flipping over a tray of fruit that’s resting on a table. You sag onto the couch you’re sitting on and try to ignore the hushed whispers and the gawks from the surrounding contestants. 

“Very good job,” Agatha croons in your ear. “I knew you could do it. You have so much potential and I’m going to help you unleash it. You’ll be one of the best producers we’ve ever had. Now come back, I have to show you something.” 

It helps slow the churning of nausea in your stomach, but you still feel weak as you stumble back to the control room. When you walk inside, Agatha claps and motions for you to stand right next to her. Lilia glares daggers at you from a corner, apparently mad about the stunt you pulled with Jez. 

“How do you feel?” Agatha asks.

“That was tough,” you admit. You’re not really in a rush to go do that again and you know Cassandra will definitely hate you now. 

She points at one of the TV screens. “Check out the promo though. Tony, play it.” 

The video starts to play, starting with the footage of Billy and Rio standing outside the gates. “Welcome to season thirteen of Hexed Hearts,” Billy says. It cuts to an aerial shot of the backyard filled with everyone dancing and having fun. 

“On this season of Hexed Hearts, will our suitress Rio Vidal be able to find love?” the voiceover announces. “Will the contestants rise to the occasion—” the clip of Jez showing Rio her underwear plays, “—or will they crack under the pressure?” 

“I don’t do drugs!” Cass exclaims on the screen, wild and tearful. “You’re a fucking bitch.” 

The camera follows her all the way back into the mansion where she crumples on the floor in a crying heap. Cut to the group of girls giving each other knowing looks, smirking, and whispering about what a lunatic Cassandra is. 

“Tune in Saturday for the season premier,” the voiceover says before the TV screen goes dark. 

Agatha puts an arm around your shoulder and pulls you against her solid body. “This is one of the strongest promos we’ve ever had, and it’s all thanks to you, honey,” she murmurs. “I’m very proud of you.” 

And you finally start to relax into her, the tension from your interview slowly sleeping out of your muscles. 

It might be worth it, you think, if this is what it gets you. 

Taglist: @lostbutlovely33 @diorrxckstar @whoreforolderfictionalwomen  @katekathry @onemansdreamisanothermansdeath @tayasmellsapples @natashashill @mybraininblood @mysticalmoonlight7  @cactuslover2600 @loveem0mo @readysteddiero-nance @lonelyhalfwitch @lesbiantortilla @crescendoofstars @sol-in-wonderland @ahsfan05 @gbab09 @sasheemo @agathaharness @live-laugh-love-lupone @chiar4anna @fuckedupforkhahn @lowlyjelly @sweetmidnights @n3bula-cats @m1vfs @agathascoven1 @vyvvycg @angel-kitten-babygirl-u-choose

[worldbeyondtheworld]

aaaaosndjghsliejfjsdx This AU funny and amazing!! Stanley becoming a child educator beloved for his patience and willingness to help children!! Stanford grudging respect because the show is good, but he can't and won't let go of his grudge, and clings to to the oretense Stanley is making fun of him. All the while he becomes a fan of the show and of Stanley!

(Bit of angst about the show's episode on mistakes, and Tate admitting to Stanford that he accidentally broke one of his beakers while playing:

Stanley has taught / teaches about physical differences like polydactily as something that is normal and can happen, healing a part of Stanford. And his brother is so kind to children in general. Gives them grace almost nobody gave Stanley when he was a child, he realizes.

And the episode on mistakes, Stanley's general attitude being kind to children about it, and admitting he made one in a previous episode...

It makes him aware that while he's stayed angry at Stanley for breaking his science fair project and not telling him, what really hurt him... He made fun of him before the science fair (the robot comment) - which he doesn't know he did because he was reacting on fear of losing Stanford and seeing no future for himself. Stanley tried to dismiss the severity of what he did, when there's no way he accidentally ended up in the show-case room - because he was used to deflect because people always blamed Stanley. And Stanley dismissed that he hurt Stanford. Dismissed Stanford's feelings.

Stanley, in all the years, never apologized for that. Stanford also carries responsibility for not reaching out, but Stanley never did either.

And yet. And yet. He begins to wonder if Stanford overreacted. Would he've been really happier at West Coast Tech? Or would he have been just as alone like at Backsupmore, where he had Fiddleford?

At some point the idea of meeting Stanley to yell at him shifts to something... he doesn't dare call it longing. Because the guilt and the hurt are deeply mixed inside there.

And the part that he won't call longing has actually been stuck with him much longer than he wants to admit. Or that he also watches the show because he can listen to Stanley.)

Sometimes I get an idea but it's half baked and I don't even?? Know what to do with it???

So anyway- Stanley Pines in kids show, explaining science in a way anyone could understand. He doesn't show his face, maybe, but as he passes on tv (maybe Tate loves watching him so Fiddleford puts him on while they work) Stanford recognises his voice.

[iimplicitt]

SWAN LAKE | OP81

part one — part two

pairings: oscar piastri x ballerina!female character

summary: on a night out at the ballet in paris, oscar finds himself becoming entranced by a prima ballerina. and once he has his mind set on something, there’s really no other option. if he wanted her, he’d have her.

warnings/an: one night stand (sorta), angst (mostly in part two), slut shaming, ballet, longing, 18+, smut, semi-public smut, he thinks she’s pretty when she cries, a bit of inspo from the movie black swan. collab with @theonottsbxtch who will be writing part two

word count: 3.3k

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He gazed down at the empty stage, waiting for the performance to begin. Others filtered into the seats below, staring at the empty chairs of the orchestra that will soon be filling the space with strings of century old notes. Oscar appreciated the arts, he knew how important it was to preserve things like this. For the culture, etc.

However, if he were being honest he would rather be anywhere else.

When his PR told him he had to make an appearance in Paris that weekend, the ballet was the last thing on his mind. It didn’t make sense to him, not seeing how his profession had anything to do with the ballet scene. “Expanding your reach” is what he’d been told in response. It didn’t matter though, he had nothing else to do and no interviews were involved. He did get photographed on the way in, but that was the most of it.

Sighing, his eyes danced across the stage again. From where he was at, he could see past the curtains. Only slightly, since the intricate hall was still swathed in warm lights from the glittering chandelier above. He spotted some dancers talking or stretching, their forms abstract from the distance and shadows. Only illuminated from their shimmering skirts that caught in the light as they moved.

He wondered why he came alone. Though he supposed they knew better than to tell his teammate to attend. He would’ve been bored out of his mind and asked Oscar to retreat to the bar twenty minutes into the show.

Eventually the lights began to dim and the chattering voices fell into silence once darkness fell.

Oscar didn’t know what to expect, but when she entered the stage he immediately fell into a trance as he watched her move. There was something macabre about the beauty of it. The way he watched her muscles move and contort as she danced. Managing to make the pain look elegant. Soft. Her expression and body emulating the emotions of her character, not needing words as the music guided the plot of Swan Lake along.

It was a demanding role. Watching her expertly morph into Odile. Displaying the torment with elegance he would never be able to cultivate himself.

He felt his heart speeding up and slowing down depending on what strings were being played. His breath being yanked from his very lungs and unconsciously leaning forward. Closer and closer, his mind wanting to topple over the side of the railing just to get near to her.

She was like a siren, beckoning his soul forward. Calling out to all his weaknesses and desires. It was strange and frightening. Unknown. He thought he had run out of things to experience. Believed he had had all his firsts.

There was just something about her.

Something new and exciting. Something to be explored and handled with care.

He watched as she spun, her movements carried out with an air of obsession. Commanding her body in ways most of the human population wouldn’t be able to fathom.

Oscar’s head was spinning as the story unfolded. The longing was palpable throughout the theater, thrumming off the stage in waves that followed the beat of dancer’s shoes hitting the stage. Caught in the breath between notes of music and the strain of practiced elegance.

He knew it must be exhausting, but she looked of the heavens. Swathed in feathers and rhinestones that caught in the spotlight. Her eyelids low and sultry, embodying power and temptation. Yet she was able to convey the jealousy, hope, and despair just as well. A second language spoken through muscle. It didn’t matter if she was wearing black or white while she danced, when it came down to it Odile and Odette were two sides of the same coin. The human experience of love and obsession.

Oscar’s hands gripped the railing as the final act approached, feeling as if the three sisters were winding up his thread and taunting him with a blade. He watched in bated breath, following Odette and reading her. He knew what was about to happen, even though he had no foresight on the performance he could see it in the way she moved.

His knuckles were white on the metal that was now warm beneath his palms. His own muscles tight and strained as he watched Odette drown herself, her lover following suit. Von Rothbart collapsing not long after and the curtains fell.

Thunderous applause followed.

Oscar felt like he could breathe again. As if the enchanter's spell had lifted from him as well. He blinked, coming back down to earth and settling in his bones again. Sobering up from what felt like an opium induced haze.

The curtains lifted again and the dancers bowed. Waving to their audience of admirers. His eyes stayed on her though, she was magnetic that way. Alluring. Addictive. He began to wonder other things about her, like what her laugh might sound like and what perfume she was wearing. Small things that made up the mystery of who she was. A mystery he was now hell bent on solving.

Oscar made his way downstairs, greeting people who recognised him as he went but made sure to make haste. Where to go? Where to wait? He didn’t know how this worked nor did he know what he was doing. He didn’t know what to expect either.

But he had one thing on his mind; he wanted her.

So he’d have her.

Simple as that. The longing settled deep in his bones, foreign yet natural. As if it was meant to be there and was only just awakening. Yawning and stretching, the wings twitching and impatient to finally take flight.

His eyes danced around as the clock hands made their own slow dance past the hour. Tick-ticking and the crowd dwindled into nothingness.

Leaning against the counter of the bar with a long ago melted glass of whiskey next to him, the doors opened again. The final whispers of the performance let out in a soft hum followed by footsteps and sighs from the dancers.

He caught sight of her the moment she stepped out into the low lamp light. Her hair now loose and face scrubbed of makeup yet streaks of charcoal still clung around her eyes, red lipstick leaving a stain on her mouth. Remnants of her other lives that didn’t want to leave just yet.

Her eyes gleamed when she too caught him. That’s what it felt like. Being caught. Suddenly entrapped in a snare.

She slowly turned away, eyes only leaving his at the very last moment as a man appeared in the shadows behind her. Coated in darkness by the doorway, his silhouette leaning down to mutter something to her. Oscar watched with apt attention as a large hand snaked out, gently resting on her waist as they held secret conversation. He looked for any indication that they were lovers, but she held the essence of someone still on stage. Still being watched. Muscles coiled in tension.

Oscar saw the other dancers walking look back over their shoulders, staring into the darkness with faces painted in judgement. Ridicule. As if they were watching a scandal unfold. It was heated, angry even.

He couldn’t stop gazing at them even as the phantom stepped back, his hand dropping away and falling into darkness. He couldn’t stop even as she walked up to him and the other faces only soured more.

“Hello.”

Oscar’s eyes flicked down. He breathed in, out, and smiled.

“Hi.”

She looked him over, picking apart any loose threads with her eyes as she tried to get a read on him. It wasn’t often he met someone who commanded the space they were in so fully, as if they were breathing life into the atmosphere themselves.

He took his own chance to observe her, now that they were so close. She stood tall and leaned slightly on one hip, a light sweater hanging off one delicate shoulder, her skirt loose around her thighs to let the summer night breeze of Paris make its own dance around her.

Oscar bit the inside of his cheek, resisting the urge to grin at her. “Magical performance.”

She wasn’t fazed or skeptical, she just kept staring at him. Intense and curious, cautious. He was a man waiting for a ballerina after a show, a tale as old as the intricate halls. Except back then, those women rarely had a choice. Being thrown into sex work to appease their more well paying audience by the leashes of their directors.

Her eyes narrowed a bit as she considered him. Her accent was like liquid velvet as she spoke next. “Are you a scout?”

“Not quite, darling.” Oscar stood there, amused as he watched her try to figure him out. Their words were few, but each party tried to be fluent in the other’s body language. Their own pas de deux.

“Then what are you? A fan?”

“Admirer,” he corrected, feeling as though that defined whatever was running rampant inside of him better. “Like I said, you bring magic to the stage. I hope you know that you’re wonderful.”

There it is. A blush. Just a bit, dusting across her cheeks as she continued to have the reins tightened on her expression.

Always on stage.

Oscar stepped closer, careful not to invade her space. Watching in fascination as her neck craned back slightly to look up at him, his eyes dancing briefly over the contours of her throat and he wanted to sink his teeth into her.

His own voice was low, a bit gravely. “What do the dancers of Palais Garnier do after a performance?”

Her hand adjusted on her bag, taking her own step forward, their chests nearly touching. Her eyes gleamed with something more.

“Go home. Stretch. Sleep.”

“And what about company?”

“We tend to avoid it.”

“You won’t entertain a lonely man on a business trip?”

Her lips tilted up slightly. “They’re usually the worst kind.”

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He felt like a teenager all over again as they stumbled through the doorway of her apartment. Her legs wrapped around his waist and he blindly kicked the door shut behind him before pressing her into the wall.

Her ribs expanded and contracted against his palms as he held her, his mouth searching hers for an answer. To say he wanted her was not enough. It never would be, he wasn’t the best with his words. Right now he didn’t need to be. They spoke in their common tongue of bodies moving against one another.

He wanted to have her. It was possessive of him. He knew that. Who was he want such a thing?

Touching her was bliss and at the moment he realised he’d never known it before. He wanted to get drunk off of it. Bottle it up and keep it forever. Keep her forever, if she’d let him.

Their tongues danced and he explored her, every crevice and curve. Hard muscle and soft skin. The build of someone possessed with the addiction of perfection.

His hands snaked up to cup her face, his hips pressing into hers to keep her in place against the wall. The space cramped with no room for mishaps but he knew they’d cause carnage that night.

The heat from her body made it feel as if he’d been thrown into the belly of a dragon, its insides churning and it got ready to unleash its flames. He was in love with every second that she exhaled a breath, singing his name so gently.

Pulling away from the wall, her fingers twined in his hair. Tugging, painful, wonderful. Her body gliding as she lightly placed her feet on the floor, even now conducting her body with precision.

He gazed down at her, heavy lidded and took in her blushed face and swollen lips. His rough hands still held her throat softly, taking in the rapid beat of her heart.

“Angel, you’re going to ruin me.” He kissed her again, his next words being passed in the breath between them. “I know it.”

She smiled at him coyly, catching his mouth again as she grabbed onto his shirt and spun them around. He felt her hands push and suddenly he was falling. Down down down. Odette and Seigfried all over again but this time a mattress met his back instead of unforgiving waters.

When she straddled him it felt as if gravity suddenly lost its power on earth, making him float up and up and when she ground her hips he went hurtling back down again. The sensation unlike anything he’d experienced. A man renewed.

Rising, heating, blowing. The sound of her moan as he flipped them around again, enveloping her beneath him. He was surrounded by the smell of her perfume.

He loved every second of it.

Oscar snaked down, his mouth trailing and leaving hot open mouthed kisses. Tongue dancing over her throat, the temptation to mark her nearly insatiable.

“Oscar.” His name felt like an omen as it left her, winding around his own lungs and making him breathless.

Arching and tightening, sweating and her lips were a grin of cherry red, bitten at lips.

His hands tore at her. He couldn’t help it. Didn’t care that the fabric was ripping and feeling delirious at the sound of her laughter at his urgency. When it was down to just her tights and underwear he sat back on his heels, taking in how she was bathed in moonlight.

“An angel,” he muttered again as his fingertips traced every outline, chasing the goosebumps that began to ripple across her skin.

“I don’t think angel’s take part in such sin.” Her voice was smooth with a French accent, a slight rasp in the back of her throat as she looked up at him. He could tell something else was on her mind. Something she wanted to say.

“What is it?”

She shook her head, hesitant. Still performing.

His fingers hooked under her chin, guiding her face up. “Tell me.” Oscar took in her features, the way even then she tried to keep everything perfect. But he could see her, she was like a book just waiting to burst open so someone would finally sit down and take the time to read. To put effort into figuring her out. And he was starting to, page but page.

Casual intimacy scared her.

Nothing about this was casual. She was his world right now, everyone and everything else could go to hell.

Oscar could get intense, he knew that. Often he tried to tread lightly so he didn’t scare anyone off. But if he wanted this to work, being honest with one another was the only option. If they couldn’t use their words, that was fine. They didn’t need to.

He yanked her up, the sudden movement making a gasp leave her lips followed by a string of light laughs that made his heart skip a beat. Oscar guided her back as his mouth found purchase on hers again, feeling the moment she melted into him. His greedy hands grabbing at her, soaking in the feeling of her holy skin.

They bumped into the door and his hand blindly found the door handle as if he had been there before. As if he was her ghost who finally materialised.

When the cool night air hit her bare back she tensed for only a moment—debating—before falling back into the deep end with him even harder than before.

She became greedy as well, morphing into his own swan queen hungry off the taste of temptation and need. Not caring she was practically naked on her balcony and not caring as his own clothes began to puddle onto the floor.

She found this exciting and it had Oscar grinning into her like a shark who had just caught a whiff of blood in the water.

He bent her over, making sure she found a firm grip on the railing before his fingers tore into her tights and ripped. The sharp sound startling as it carried over the skyline of Paris, the city of love glittering at them knowingly.

One hand took hold of her hip as the other pulled her underwear aside. Not a moment of hesitation as he thrusted his hips sharply into hers, getting drunk off the sound of his name pouring out from her lips.

When she looked back at him it felt like he was aware of the earth spinning. Her eyes startling as they leaked what must have been ichor. Mascara running down her face in messy black streaks with euphoria dazzling her smile.

“You are so beautiful.”

How was he to handle such tenderness? He’d never been in such a position and it seemed the only thing he was capable of was being rough. Edges sharp. Accidentally cutting and leaving a bloody mess.

Lust had been a companion to him before, but this? This was something else entirely and he never wanted to let go of her.

He whispered her name into her neck as he leaned forward, driving himself deeper and taking in the gentle scent of her shampoo.

Her nails found purchase in his hair, clawing and pulling and preening— Oscar was unraveling.

The three sisters pulling and pulling and pulling on the thread.

Grinding and retreating, the silk of her hair spilling against searing flesh. An intimate dance between two starstruck idiots desperate for one another.

He loved it.

Yanking her back against him they stumbled back inside, a chair toppling over and he picked her up with ease as he laid her on the table.

Oscar’s thumb tugged against her lips, her mouth easily dropping open and she was so warm and fuck—

He was done for.

Hands clasped around her rib cage, pulling her to the edge and her legs dangled off his shoulders. Oscar was holding onto her so tight he was sure he was hurting her but she didn’t seem to care. Her own nails were leaving bloody trails as they dragged down his stomach to his hips.

Oscar started to fuck her again. The word sounded harsh but he didn’t know how else to word it. Making love didn’t seem right, that phrasing carried the air of something far more tender.

Her mouth gaped open, his name being shouted over the sound of the table scraping against the floor with every thrust. She was melting in his arms, their pants and moans being carried out by the open balcony doors. The world was falling apart like golden flecks of a fire.

Desire and longing ensnared them, guiding their movements like a crazed puppeteer.

“Angel, what have you done to me?” His words barely made it out as she clenched around him and heaven was roaring in Oscar’s ears.

Faster—quicker— “Fuck” — her hair was twined between his fingers, tugging, biting, aching— “Oscar!”—rougher—his hand was wrapped around her throat.

Her nails traveled to the taught muscles of his back and he leaned further into her, his hand anchored around her neck and face buried in her hair.

Pulling, dragging, sinking.

Her name, another whisper he muttered against her ear followed by a “I’m yours.”

She cried out.

The apartment was in sweet distress, they didn’t keep to one spot for long.

Oscar let the floodgates open and at that moment only he and the moon heard her screaming as she came with him. The streets below were still too hectic, never sleeping. Too loud.

She gently took hold of his face, sighing as her thumbs gently ran over his cheek bones. Their breath struggled to steady in their rib cages as his weight settled against her. Biting her lip she observed him and the mess they had made. “Mon ange, que vais je faire de toi?”

And they started again.

tag list: @fortunapre @ashbone @c8lap1nto @taasgirl @stopeatread @dying-inside-but-its-classy (let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list <3)

[wonnieluv]

Miss Possessive - p.js

Summary: you love showing your smart, tall, handsome boyfriend off until… people touch what isn’t theirs

non-idol!Jay x possessive fem!reader

Warnings: reader is possessive but not toxic, suggestive, hickeys, mentions of violence (no actual violence)

masterlist

You and Jay have been together going on 3 years now. He’s the perfect man that would’ve been plucked out of 6 year old you’s fantasies. He’s caring, kind, devilishly handsome, smart, loving, and did i mention devilishly handsome.

You guys have become the perfect couple. You do argue as it would be unnatural if you didn’t, but you work really well together and you couldn’t ask for a better partner. Unfortunately, some people don’t realize that he’s yours.

And that’s how you find yourself in the classy halls of a charity banquet the two of you are attending. You went to grab yourself a drink and speak to some old friends while Jay went to talk to some people on his own but now… now you’re standing at a table only half listening to ur best friend Aeri as you watch some random girl put her hands on your man

“Unless you found out how to grow daggers from your eyelashes, glaring across the room isn’g going to do anything” you hear Aeri say next to you

“She has about 2 seconds to step back before i yank this horrible extensions out of her scalp” you seethe.

Don’t get me wrong. You’re very secure in your relationship. You aren’t mad at Jay. It’s more of a respect thing for you. And this girl was not only disrespecting Jay’s personal space, she wasn’t respecting the fact that he’s your man

“Aeri i’ll be back” you say walking away

“I know you won’t just wait to suck each others faces off until after the party” she calls after you.

You continue through the crowd, eyes trained on them waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

You sneak up behind Jay and wrap your arms around his waist resting your chin on his shoulder,

“Hi love” you hear Jay greet you as he reaches down and grabs your hands. In one swift motion he removes them from his waist and brings you next to him so he can rest his arms on your waist.

“Jia this is my lovely girlfriend y/n. I’m sure you know her” as Jay speaks your sharp gaze lands on the girl who is now shamelessly smirking at you.

“Well Jay i didn’t realize your girlfriend was so…” she begins to trail off but before she can even complete the insult you cut her off

“Don’t even go there Jia, i could have you kicked out of here within 5 seconds” you begin glaring at her “and whether i do or not doesn’t change the fact that he doesn’t want you so now if you’ll excuse us.” You turn to Jay and immediately press your lips onto his

The kiss doesn’t last long as you are at a public event so when you pull away you barely spare Jia a glance before pulling Jay with you.

The two of you step into a more secluded hallway and before you can say anything Jay has you pressed against the wall as your lips connect into a passionate kiss. His hands securely around your waist while yours go up to play at the hairs on the back of his neck.

You pull away breathlessly leaning your forehead on his with a smile on your face.

“Thank you baby, she was annoying the shit out of her” Jay says softly with a slight smirk

“Had to save my damsel in distress” you giggle back. “I should really stop leaving you alone at events you look this good at” you say as you run your hand down his chest

“You could…” he starts “but i like when my little miss possessive comes out” he says as he begins to leave light kisses on your neck and face

“Don’t push me too hard love, i might make a scene” you say with light smirk

“Hmmm you promise?” He asks with a cheeky smile

You roll your eyes in response slapping his chest “what ever. Let’s go home, i don’t want anyone else to look at you tonight i might snap someone’s neck” you say as you lean your head on his chest.

“Okay we can go home, but we have to go in and say our goodbyes first” he says softly stroking your hair

“Do we have to…” you lightly whine

“Yes love we do” he chuckles “it’ll be fast don’t worry”

“Fine but let me do one thing first” you say as you bring your head to his neck. Before he can say anything you’re leaving light kisses down from his jaw until up find your favorite spot. You latch on and begin to suck a nice dark hickey into his skin feeling his grip on your hips tighten at the action

When you’re satisfied you pull away and admire your work before pecking his cheek “there” you say with a smile “now we can go back”

He looks at you with an unimpressed expression “you realize i have to say goodbye to my parents in there right”

All you do is shrug “we’ve done worse under their own roof i think you’ll be find”

All he can do is sigh “i’m gonna marry you someday” he wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you to his side as you go to re-enter the party

“Good cause I’m gonna marry you someday” you reply with a soft smile

Let’s just say Jays parents weren’t necessarily impressed but they let you off the hook for now

Haha you guys should stream So Close To What by Tate McRae

🏷️ @chlorophylliaa

[ikeuluvr]

Can I Have This Dance? || Park Jongseong

synopsis - long distance sucks. especially when your boyfriend can't be with you to be your date to your very last high school dance. good thing bf!jay has a few tricks up his sleeve.

non-idol!jay x fem!reader / established long distance relationship - angst + fluff / warnings - none! / word count ~1.7k

part of ikeuluvr's song series ᵔᴗᵔ — works inspired by songs! requests are open for other songs + anything else you would like to see from me <3

masterlist join my taglist

Jay stares longingly into his phone screen, a soft smile pursed on his lips as he watches you show off your final look for the school dance over FaceTime, “You look absolutely beautiful honey,” he hums, his eyes raking over the entire screen to take in all of you, “I’m so sorry I can’t be there to be your super sexy date.”

You let out that adorable laugh that Jay loves so much, making his heart flutter as you walk to your bed and sit on the edge. Your endeared smile falters a little bit, turning into a sadder one as your eyes glance away from your phone screen, “Don’t apologize, Jay, it’s not like it’s your fault. Besides, you’ll be here next week, so there’s no reason to be sad.”

Jay has always hated the way you act like being long-distance isn’t killing you even though he knows it is. Your positive outlook on life is the greatest thing he admires about you, but he also wishes you’d let your walls down and tell him what you’re really feeling. You both know it hasn’t been easy since he moved across the country 8 months ago for his mom’s job, going from seeing each other every day to every few months. It was even worse knowing it was right before the beginning of your Senior year, forcing you to miss out on all the major “lasts” of high school together.

“Hey…” Jay starts to say softly, “Look at me, sweetie.” Your head tilts to face your phone screen again, meeting Jay’s apologetic eyes through the electronic barrier. “You know you don’t have to pretend like you’re not upset, right? You can tell me if you’re sad, Y/N.”

A soft sigh falls from your lips knowing he’s right; hell, he’s always right. You can see the look in his eyes that you know so well—the gentle, pleading look that makes you both guilty and adored at the same time, “I know, I’m sorry. I just don’t want you to feel bad, and honestly, pretending that it is okay is helping me not create a puddle of tears right now,” you huff as you fiddle with the frill of your dress.

An immediate frown forms on Jay’s lips, his heart clenching at the mere thought of you crying, “Oh honey, don’t cry! Your makeup is way too perfect to ruin right now,” he chuckles, a soft smile overtaking his face to try and get you to smile too. With success, your frown turns upward slightly, the tears threatening to fall sucking back in, “There’s my girl…” Jay cheeses, “Don’t let that frown turn upside down again tonight, you hear me? You’re going to have the best time with your friends, take the most jaw-dropping photos that I’ll drool over later, and party the night away. Just make sure to save a dance for me, yeah?”

You nod with the same sad smile painted on your face as you stare at your boyfriend through the screen. Right on time, the doorbell rings downstairs meaning that your friends have arrived to pick you up, “Shoot, I have to go, love.”

“No worries, baby. Have so much fun tonight, okay? Send me lots of pictures,” Jay tells you, a gentle smile on his lips to hide that he’s also devastated that he can’t be with you right now, “Love you, sweetie.”

“Love you too. Talk to you later,” you blow a kiss at the screen to which Jay catches on his end with a soft laugh. You both hang up, the new silence of the bedroom deafening. With a heavy heart, you grab your heels and purse before heading downstairs to meet your friends.

୨♡୧

The music blasting in the gymnasium is almost overwhelming as you sit at the table you and your friends claimed in the corner. The bass booms in your chest and your ears ring as each song plays; the stench of teenage sweat and pre-gamed alcohol fills your nose with every passing second. The night had been hard enough with you being the only member of your group without a date, having to take pictures alone, and now watching everyone slow dance while their eyes glimmer with love. You tried hard to at least pretend like you were having fun by keeping a smile on your face just as Jay asked you to during your call that evening, but as the night progressed, it was becoming impossible.

The final straw of the night snuck up on you as you watched your friend get dragged onto the dance floor by her boyfriend, leaving you entirely alone at the table. A choked sigh caught in your throat as you felt your eyes turn glossy thinking about how Jay should be sitting next to you right now—how Jay should have his arms around your waist as you cling to him on the dance floor—how Jay should be laughing as you embarrass him with your obscene dance skills—how Jay should be taking cringy photos with you in front of the ugly backdrop—how Jay should be here.

A single tear escapes your eye and rolls down your cheek as you sniffle softly, this supposed “magical night” turning into what will become a miserable memory. As you wipe away the lonely tear with your hand, a gentle tap on the edge of your shoulder makes your body flinch in place.

“No thanks, I’m really not in the mood to dance right now,” you say through a sniffle to whoever is behind you.

“Wow, babe. Even with me?”

Your head raises, the tears and sniffles coming to an immediate halt as you hear the voice of the person hovering over you. As you slowly turn around in your chair, your entire body falls numb and your brain scrambles to figure out if you’re hallucinating this moment. It’s like time stops once you see him towering over you with a bright smile plastered onto his face, a plastic box with a corsage matching the color of your dress in his hands.

“Jay?” you question almost in a whisper, entirely in disbelief that your boyfriend is standing before you in the flesh.

“Who else would it be, love?” he laughs, his shoulders rising and falling as he does. Without another beat, your body catapults out of the seat to attach to his, your head falling into the crook of his neck, exactly where it’s supposed to be. His arms instinctively find their home around your waist as he pulls you impossibly closer to him and lays a feather-like kiss on your neck.

Jay feels the wetness of your tears on his skin, making him shiver slightly before he pulls away just enough to see your face. His hands move from your hips to cup your cheeks as he wipes your tears with the pads of his thumbs with a soft laugh, “Hey… hey, hey, hey don’t cry, pretty girl. Your mascara’s already running, baby.”

“Why- are you- how are you- here?” you ask in between gasps for air, making Jay laugh a little bit harder as he holds your face in his hands like you’re the most precious thing in the world.

He shrugs with a sly smile, “Let’s just say I booked my flight for a week too early.”

You let out a half-exasperated laugh as you take a step back to wipe your tears with the sides of your hands, “God, you’re so freaking insane.”

“Only insane for you, my love.” Jay coos and leans in to leave a kiss on your forehead, letting his lips linger on your skin for a brief moment.

Your eyes roll at his retort, a smile finally making its way onto your lips as the waves of shock start to leave your body. Jay chuckles as he watches you come back down to Earth, his hand raising to brush a few strands of hair out of your face.

“Is that for me?” you ask him, glancing down at the corsage in his hand.

“Oh yeah!” he exclaims, seemingly to have forgotten about it already. Jay pops the box open carefully and pulls out the corsage while you raise your right hand to let him put it on you. He pulls the elastic and gently slides it over your wrist, “There we go. Do you like it?”

You nod frantically, your eyes still glazed over from the earlier tears with a stupid happy smile on your face. Jay caresses your cheek gently as you admire the corsage on your wrist, moving his thumb to wipe away the last remnants of mascara from under your eye before speaking again, “Now… I asked you to save a dance for me, didn’t I?” he asks as he holds his hand out for you to take, “Can I have this dance?”

Without another thought, your hand is in his as he guides you to the dance floor, his hands grasping onto your waist and your arms wrapping around his neck as the song starts to play. The two of you sway to the rhythm like one entity, a comfortable silence falling in between you while you savor the feeling of being able to touch one another again. Jay pulls you closer tenderly until your bodies are pressed together with not a sliver left between you. He plants a delicate kiss on the tip of your nose making you giggle.

“I wish you never have to leave again,” you suddenly say somberly, causing Jay’s heart to drop.

He sighs with a sad smile, nodding in agreement, “I know, me too, love,” he whispers, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear so he can see your face, “But even a thousand miles can’t keep us apart, cause my heart is wherever you are, my sweet girl.”

Your eyes gloss over again as you take in his words, your heart overflowing with love and adoration, “I love you,” you tell him faintly as the two of you continue to move to the song blaring around you.

Jay pulls you even closer, letting your head rest against his shoulder, allowing him to kiss the top of your head and mumble into your hair, “I love you more, Y/N.”

@jellyluv4eva @wonnieluv

[eddtherippr]

I'm thinking about being Natalie's mother:))

Imagine already being in a relationship with Natalie for a long time, you never really got married but you live together and that's enough<3 maybe after a lot of talking you decide to go for insemination and it works out, so now you're going to be mothers♡

I just thought it would be cute and thought of it with Sophie Thatcher's Natalie

She would be so sweet and understanding, but also so clumsy and protective like a puppy.

(gonna do a headcanon post for this one instead of a bot.. but still might make a bot too)

nat w/fem!pregnant!reader

💾 — ⁺ 　 . ✦

anon you're so right about the last part... in the beginning nat's downright terrified just at the idea of having a kid. she's scared of becoming like her mom (or god forbid her dad) and fucking up with her kid the way her parents fucked up with her.

over time she warms up to the idea, so then you talk about the IUI process. nat's never been one to have a medical phobia but you have to talk a LOT about it because she's freaked out by the thought of something going wrong.

jump-cut to the eventual agreement, and then your IUI is a few days away. nat insists on being there with you, calling out from work weeks in advance, encouraging you with little 'you've got this baby's and 'everything's gonna be fine's before the doctor gets in the room even though she's probably more nervous than you are. she's halfway soothing herself, too.

she doesn't really have her first real breakdown over it until you take the pregnancy test two weeks later and it reads positive. because oh my god, you're having a fucking baby. her girl's pregnant, she's going to be a mom. once again, she cries way more than you do.

💾 — ⁺ 　 . ✦

pregnancy is rough— especially with nat at your heels like an adoring puppy the entire time. you can't be mad at her, though— not when she's constantly doting on you, bringing you a heating pad and something warm to drink when you feel sick, holding your hair back while you throw up in the mornings, going out at ungodly hours to get whatever weird shit you're craving from the 7/11 down the street. she's utterly whipped.

and when you first start showing in the second trimester? she goes nuts. hanging off of you constantly, arms wrapped around your waist, hands under your shirt with her palms against your stomach so she can feel the bump. your baby, her baby. she's still not over it.

one night, she holds up her walkman and those little orange headphones with a sheepish smile, explaining that misty told her that babies can hear music in the womb. you listen to mazzy star with the headphones fit over your stomach and nat actually yells out loud when the baby kicks. fucking quigley was right about something for once.

after that, she plays all of her favorite songs for hours, going through a whole case of cassettes with her head on your shoulder and a hand lovingly on your baby bump, grinning a little wider every time she feels a kick.

💾 — ⁺ 　 . ✦

the real scare comes when your water breaks suddenly while you're in the kitchen.

one second she's making fun of you for your questionable meal choice of pickles with ketchup and frosted flakes, the next second there's a puddle on the floor and you're bent over the table. she panics— drops her cigarette in the sink, knocks over two fucking chairs, runs around like a fucking idiot— that kind of panic.

within 5 minutes, you're in the car and she's driving like bo duke. you actually have to grab her arm and get her to slow down so you don't both die in a car crash before you even give birth.

during labor, nat's fucking terrified, not leaving your side for a second. not to eat, piss, or anything, just watching you with clenched fists. Her hands shake when she holds yours at first, but the second she sees you in pain, she gets her shit together real fast. "hey, hey, babe— just breathe, okay? you got this. you’re a badass."

she takes it in stride when you yell at her mid-contraction, because she's not a fucking idiot. "nat, shut the fuck up!" "yep. sorry. my bad."

💾 — ⁺ 　 . ✦

the second she hears that first cry, her whole body just sags in relief. she's teary as fuck and not even trying to hide it. wiping her eyes like crazy. "holy shit, you fucking did it."

when she sees you hold the baby for the first time, she just stares at you like she's not entirely convinced this is fucking real. but when she gets the baby? oh, she breaks. teary smile, laughing and sobbing at the same time, the whole works. she's careful as hell, tracing one finger over a tiny fist.

when she thinks you're asleep, she starts talking. and she just cannot shut the fuck up, whispering to the baby for hours.

"guess you're stuck with me, huh, kid?" she says. "you got real lucky with your mom. she’s— you have no fucking idea how amazing she is yet. but you’ll get to see it."

even quieter, teary and sniffling, you hear her say: "i love you. i'm gonna try. i swear to god i am."

you know she's terrified of being a bad mom, but right now? you're not worried about a goddamn thing. she's gonna be just fine.

[nakylvr]

— BREATH AWAY

sophia laforteza x loser!g!p reader

summary: sophia takes care of her members all day, only being vulnerable enough at night for you to take care of her. you don't think it's anything other than hooking up despite being absolutely in love with her. until the night she brings up something.

warnings/tags: nsfw content, language, 7th member!reader, they're not in a relationship, unprotected sex, breeding kink, cumming inside, not proofread

yeah so i made something based off this thought so what?

over the past few months, you didn't know what you were doing. to be fair, you didn't know since the beginning. you don't even remember how it started, it just...did. one night she came into your solo room and the rest was history.

you knew you shouldn't have feelings. feelings for your leader, you knew it wasn't going to work. but you couldn't help it. you were completely in love with sophia laforteza.

the first time it happened you thought it wouldn't go any further. only for the same thing to happen for months.

you tried not to show it at first, how down bad you were for the filipina. but it was obvious to the members, specifically megan and daniela who had been there the longest with you two since dream academy. you had fallen for her since the moment you saw her. who couldn't? you knew it was dumb, but you couldn't help it. to be fair, you didn't think you would end up debuting, but that's the least surprising thing that's happened in the year.

then, you started not being able to contain it. you showed signs, whether they were obvious or not to sophia was a whole other question. you got her favorite coffee every morning before anyone else was awake, you helped her with managing things that she couldn't do, you would linger around her more. you were basically a puppy doing everything for her attention. attention she only gave you at night.

she didn't have feelings for you in that way. you assumed that once it was months in. it was strictly hooking up. nothing else. she needed a stress reliever from everything, and that was you. you didn't mind it at first. but the more you thought about it, the more you realized there was no point.

so you stopped.

she would come into your room still, and you would pretend to be asleep. for multiple nights in a row. you stopped getting her coffee, you stopped hovering around her. that's when she knew something was wrong with you. but, she didn't know what to do about it.

it was awkward for some time between you two. but you figured this was better. you were breaking your heart slowly but surely every time it happened knowing she won't see you that way. you'd rather have the awkwardness than losing your sanity and heart.

you don't know why you were watching her live, she was in the next room, you could hear the music faintly as you sat on your bed. but you were. mindlessly listening to her talk, not really paying attention until she said something that caught your ear.

"yeah, i'd want kids– IN THE FUTURE." she emphasizes, eyes wide while shaking her hand to keep it from blowing up in her face.

you knew she was talking about someone else. you were in the present, but you wouldn't be in her future like you wanted to be. you were okay with that. you could come to terms with that. you turned off your phone and rolled over onto your side, curling up in on yourself and closing your eyes, still hearing the music in the background.

you wouldn't be hers really, and you could come to terms with that.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

it was barely six in the morning when your door slowly creaked open, and you groggily opened your eyes to see sophia standing in the doorway.

"yn?"

you tensed up. she knew you were awake, you were staring right at her trying to calm your irregular heartbeat down from exploding out of your chest.

"yeah?" you respond quietly.

"can i come in?" she asks hesitantly.

"sure," you reply, sliding up to rest your back against the headboard.

sophia walks inside, closing and not-so-subtly locking the door behind her, making your breath hitch in your throat. she makes her way over to you slowly, every step making it harder for you to breathe when you see she's only wearing one of your hoodies and judging by her bare legs, only in her panties underneath it. she stops in front of you and climbs onto the bed next to you. she looks at you silently, waiting for you to say something, but you can't get anything out. you're staring back at her with your pupils already dilated just at the sight of her in silence.

her hands move to cup your face, her thumb drawing small circles on your cheek as she slowly leans in and kisses you softly. you can't help the little noise of surprise that escapes your throat when her lips touch yours, your face turning red embarrassingly. to her surprise, you kiss back. your lips move against hers perfectly, and you forget for just a moment that this is the most you'll get from her.

"wait," you quickly pull away, panting a little bit.

"what's wrong?" sophia asks.

"what about the girls? i don't–"

"they're crashing at emily's for her birthday, remember?" sophia cuts you off. "it's just us here." a moment of silence passes between you two. "do you want this?" she asks you.

it takes you a minute to answer. you don't know what you want anymore. the only thing you want is her, and her completely.

"yes."

a small smile curls on her lips and she nods before kissing you again.

you're not sure how it happened. your shirt and sweatpants off tossed somewhere in the room, your boxers at your ankles, sophia naked under you. but you don't care. not right now.

you pull your lips away from hers to breathe, trying to keep yourself from busting immediately. you sit up and reach into your bedside drawer, finding a condom and taking it when sophia suddenly grabs your wrist, making you freeze.

"you don't need that," she says.

your eyes widen slightly. sophia, the one who always insisted on you wearing a condom letting you go in raw? you thought she was joking, but the look in her eyes told you otherwise. with a nod, you toss it back in the drawer and position yourself on your forearms near her head.

looking down at her, you search her eyes for approval, and when she gives you a nod you slowly push inside her. a moan comes from both of you at the feeling, her arms wrapping around your neck and pulling you closer. once you're all the way in, you stop for a moment, giving her time to adjust and you to calm yourself down from the feeling of her warm, wet walls snug around you.

"please," she breathes out.

you slowly start moving your hips, building a steady rhythm making you both moan. "fuck..." you groan. "s-so tight." your eyes squeeze shut, breathy moans falling from your lips. "fuck, you feel so g-good, soph," you whimper.

soft moans escaped sophia's mouth without realizing, the noises right next to your ear only spurring you on further. her hand gripped your hair in a tight grip, tugging on it lightly. "faster– fuck, please, baby."

picking up your pace, sophia lets out a loud moan, tugging on your hair again as the sounds of the bed squeaking beneath you gets louder at every thrust you make. the dull pain in your head from pulling your hair has you opening your eyes, finally looking down and seeing her — eyes hooded, mouth agape with whines and moans falling from her lips that were swollen from kissing, chest heaving up and down. all because of you. "you're s' pretty like this," you murmur.

"oh, fuck!" sophia gasps when your thrusts start turning more rough, feeling the tip of your cock hit her g-spot. "right there, mahal, right– shit! mnnh you feel s-so good. making me feel so g-good, don't stop!" her moans proceed to get even louder, and you're grateful that the members are out of the house to not hear the sinful act you two were participating in. anyone would be able to tell with the way the bed was squeaking and the headboard hitting the wall repeatedly.

you slam your cock in and out of her, grunting every now and then with moans freely leaving your mouth. your eyes lock with hers, and she pulls you down into a kiss. one different feeling than the rest. one filled with all the love she had for you.

parting from the kiss, sophia rests her forehead on yours, her eyes staring up at you. she feels you throbbing inside her, twitching and desperate for release, and she decides now is the time.

"cum in me," she whispers.

"what?" your eyes go wide, your hips stuttering for a second.

sophia wraps her legs around your hips, pulling you impossibly closer so you were flush against her. "please, mahal. please, i want you– i want your cum in me, please. please, i need you so bad. wan-wanna have your babies– fuck, please!" she begs, tears building in her eyes.

your eyes darken at her words, feeling a newfound desire in you as you nod, your hips snapping against hers at a fast pace that had both of you moaning loudly. "gonna fill you up so good...gonna give you every last drop– fuck, you're so tight–"

sophia cuts you off by pulling you down into another kiss, mainly just you two panting against each other's lips. "i love you," she murmurs. "i love y-you so much, yn."

"i love you too," you reply without even thinking of what she said. "f-fuck, i'm gonna cum!" you whine.

"cum for me, baby," she tells you. "make me yours, please."

with a few more thrusts, you let out a long groan, spurts of your cum filling her up making her cum right after you, feeling her walls milk you for all your worth. you slouch against her, your arms sore from holding yourself up as you breath heavily to recompose yourself.

one of sophia's hands gently runs through your hair, her eyes closed while she also tries to catch her breath. when you pull your head from her neck, she opens her eyes and looks up at you. her hand pushes your hair out of your face and cups your cheek as she leans in, pressing a deep kiss on your lips. when she pulls away, she just smiles at you.

"i meant what i said, y'know," she says softly. "i love you, yn. and i want to have a family together."

your eyes widen, not being able to contain the surprise you felt as you tried to find any sign of her lying or just saying it to make you feel better. "really?" you can't help but ask.

"yeah." she nods. "i want to be with you, not whatever this is."

the smile that grows on your face has one growing on sophia's as you lean down and kiss her passionately. when you pull away, you both have matching smiles on your faces as you look at each other.

"i love you so much, sophia," you tell her.

"i love you too, yn," she immediately responds.

[anxiouscherubs]

find you in my heart

✦ summary: the one where you get dumped and your best friend is there to help you realize what you truly deserve… what’s been in front of you all along.

✦ warnings/tags: MDNI! 18+, explicit, smut, slight angst, some fluff, oral sex (f receiving), oral sex (m receiving), fingering, throat fucking, big dick yh, unprotected sex (be safe!), yh is desperately in love, best friends to lovers, mutual pining, mentions of cheating (past relationships), yh and reader met as baristas, pet names, au where jeong yunho can actually cook, yunho is a lil possessive

✦ pairing: nonidol!yunho x reader

✦ author’s note: as a yunho ult, a yh best friends to lovers has been at the top of my list of things to write. i started this fic after yun posted these photos because i just could not get the vision of late night walks with him out of my head! i am new to writing so any feedback is appreciated. i hope you enjoy ♡ as always, thank you to my lovely best friends for enabling me and proofreading my depravity. love you guys forever. ♡

✦ word count: 12.9k

✦ read it on ao3: here

Two years. Two years down the drain because your ex decided he “wasn’t feeling it anymore.” You had a sneaking suspicion his change of heart had to do with his hot new coworker, but you couldn’t think too far into it or it would rip you apart more than he already had. 

He had grown distant, and you chalked it up to the stress of his new job. But when he started staying late every other day and missing your sacred Thursday date nights, you knew it was the beginning of the end. You were happy together (most of the time), but you were never certain you could see yourself spending the rest of your life with him. There were certain things about him that you tolerated, but you wanted your forever to be spent with someone who felt perfect for you. And he… didn’t.

Even though you knew he wasn’t who you’d spend your life with, it stung just the same to receive his messages. 

loser: hey y/n… i’ve been thinking about this for a while now but i think it’s time for us to part ways. 

loser: we’ve had a good run, but i’m just not really feeling it anymore. i hope you understand. 

loser: wish you the best. xx 

You’d changed his contact and blocked his number immediately, saving yourself from the hurtful words he’d throw your way if you tried to ask for any reasoning or clarification. He always turned into a different person the moment you tried to express your emotions. 

“She’s just a coworker, y/n, stop being crazy. You don’t have to worry about her.” 

You push his words out of your brain again before they take over. So what if he left you for her? They probably deserve each other. You knew you were better off, that wasn’t the issue. It was that you settled for two years, letting this man who clearly didn’t respect you treat you like an afterthought the entire time. The more you think about it, the more you blame yourself for placing such little value on your own time and energy. 

You sit on your couch, your coffee table littered with tear-soaked tissues and instant ramen cups. You haven’t  left the house since you got The Texts last night, and you've watched a season of your favorite crime show and eaten your body weight in Buldak since then. You know you can’t sit here and wallow anymore or you’ll start to lose your mind, so you drag yourself to the bathroom to assess the damage. Eyes red and puffy from crying, hair tangled and tied loosely in a scrunchie, tear drops lingering on the same sweatshirt you’d been wearing for the last 24 hours. You look like hell. 

“I need to get out of this apartment,” you say to yourself. You pull out your phone and send a quick text to your best friend before hopping in the shower. After washing your hair 3 times, shaving your legs, and exfoliating the sadness away, you’re finally starting to feel human again. You wrap yourself in your favorite towel before checking your phone again. 

y/n: yunnie… are you free tonight? 

yunho: for you? absolutely. you ok? haven’t heard from you all day.

Of course he’d notice you going MIA for a day. You and your best friend texted every single day, sending quick little updates or funny videos. He’d probably been worried sick, but he never wants to pry. He’s always respected your space like that. 

y/n: long story. i’ll explain later. 

y/n: meet me in front of blossom in 30? 

Blossom was the cafe you and Yunho met working at. You were both burning the candle at both ends working nearly full time as baristas during your senior year of college. Your closing shifts together kept you sane during finals, blasting music and sharing your life stories while you cleaned up the shop. He’d even walk you home, after every closing shift, never wanting to let you walk alone so late. You both gave your two weeks notice right after graduation, but promised each other you’d make up for all the time you wouldn’t spend working together anymore. 

That was four years ago, and he’d been such a stable presence in your life since then. You’d grown closer over the years, spending countless movie nights and BBQ dates together. He knew everything about you (after a movie night with too much wine and lots of oversharing) and hadn’t gone running for the hills, so you knew he really cared. You didn’t really have time to make friends in college because you were either working, in class, or studying, so he was really all you had. He was your safe space. You both stayed close by after graduation, staying in your apartments in the city 2 blocks from the cafe on either side. It was nice having your best friend so close by, and the cafe remained a staple in your friendship as a middle point between your two homes. In your reminiscing, you realize you missed your Saturday morning coffee date with him. 

yunho: of course, bean. i missed you this morning. 

Your heart fluttered in your chest at the nickname. It always does. That, and when he calls you sweetheart. Your heart almost came up your throat the first time he pulled that one. Yunho started calling you bean after you spilled an entire bag of light roast on the cafe floor trying to refill the hopper for the openers. He’ll never let you live that one down. You remembered giggling and scooping coffee beans off the floor on your hands and knees together, his hand brushing over yours when you both reached for the dustpan, your eyes meeting, breath quickening… 

You shake the memory from your brain, coming back to reality just as you both had snapped out of it in the moment four years ago, scattering to finish cleaning up and avoiding eye contact the rest of the night. You always dismissed the electricity you felt when his skin touched yours, blaming the exhaustion from working a closing shift after being up all night studying. He had a girlfriend at the time, he wouldn’t have been interested in you that way anyway. He’s your friend, y/n, be realistic. You’re reaching. You send another quick text before getting dressed, and he of course responds right away. 

y/n: i missed you too, i’m sorry i should’ve texted. it’s been a shitty 24 hours. i’ll see you soon 

yunho: no need to apologize. i’ll be there, see you in a bit. 

25 minutes pass and you somehow manage to make yourself look somewhat presentable. You dried your hair and pulled half of it up in a claw clip, leaving some pieces out to frame your face. You threw on some concealer and a bit of blush, trying to hide how puffy your eyes still were. It was a chilly fall night, so you opted for your favorite pair of light wash jeans and an oversized black sweater, accompanied by your beat up black chelsea boots and your gray wool coat. 

After a quick 5 minute walk you round the corner to see Yunho standing in front of the cafe, his back facing you. Of course he’s right on time. His broad shoulders fill out the black jacket he’s wearing, his crossbody bag tucked under his arm. The neon sign in the cafe window leaves a purple hue reflecting off his freshly dyed dark gray hair. He turns his head at a car passing by, and you catch yourself smiling at the lost puppy look in his eyes. He must’ve seen you approaching in his peripheral, his head snapping in your direction. A subtle smile plays on his lips as he locks eyes with you. His warm brown eyes are full of an emotion you can’t quite name. 

Your chest aches at the realization that your ex, in the two years you were together, never looked at you like that. Why did you ever think you were important to him? Your throat suddenly tightens and your vision starts to blur, tears welling in your eyes for the millionth time today. Yunho’s smile drops, his brow furrowing as he takes two long strides to meet you. 

“Y/n, what is it, what happened?” He reaches for your shoulders to hold you steady, but you push forward to bury your face in his chest. He wraps his arms around you without hesitation, one hand cradling the back of your head while the other snakes around your shoulders. Your hands find his waist, gripping his shirt underneath his jacket. His familiar scent of jasmine envelops you, and you realize how badly you needed your best friend to help you through this.

”H-He dumped me,” you sniffle, letting out a shaky breath into Yunho’s chest, “he d-dumped me yesterday, through a fucking t-text message,”  another unsteady exhale as you try to level your breathing. 

“He did what?!” He pulls you in closer to him, the disbelief lacing his tone reassuring how rational your feelings are.

“It’s over,” you blink away your tears, tilting your head back to look up at your best friend. You’ve never seen the expression on his face before, like anger and worry are battling it out in his brain, and he can’t decide which one should take center stage first. “He texted me last night, saying he ‘wasn’t feeling it anymore’ and he ‘wished me the best,’” your mocking tone repeating his words reignited the angry flame in your chest. 

“Wished you the best,” he scoffs, “is he kidding?” He rolls his eyes.  “That’s how you end a two-year-long relationship?” He tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, taking a half step back to give you some more space to catch your breath.  

“I can’t believe I wasted two years of my life with someone who just kicked me to the curb without a second thought,” you pinch the fabric of his shirt between your fingers, your eyes lingering on his collarbone peeking out from his slightly unbuttoned shirt. “I’m convinced he left me for a coworker, the one he told me not to worry about.” A humorless laugh leaves your lips, the burning feeling behind your eyes returning as more tears come. “I’m more upset with myself for letting him treat me like this for so long,”

“Hey, look at me,” Yunho cautiously brings his hands to your face, cradling your head gently. You lean into his touch, dragging your gaze up to meet his.

“He doesn’t know what he just threw away, sweetheart,” Yunho holds your teary cheeks in his hands. “You are the most beautiful creature this world has ever seen, and if he doesn’t see that, he doesn’t deserve you.”

“You think I’m beautiful?” You choke out between sniffles. 

“Oh y/n… of course I do. I always have,” he wipes a tear from your cheek before it reaches your lips, “since the day I met you.” 

Your breath catches in your throat at his admission, your chin wobbling as you try to hold it together. 

His eyes search yours, that unspoken emotion taking over his features again. You almost catch the moment he shakes it away, reminding himself that he’s here to support you. His hands fall from your cheeks to grab your hands instead, that familiar electricity prickling your skin as he rubs his thumbs over your knuckles. 

“Do you wanna go inside? I called ahead and ordered you a maple latte and a raspberry scone as soon as I got your text.” He tilts his head in the direction of the cafe next to you. 

You look inside to see two to-go cups and a brown paper bag sitting on the counter. “And an iced caramel latte for you, I’m assuming,” you poke his stomach teasingly, “thank you, Yun, you didn’t have to do that.” 

“Of course I did,” he gently squeezes your hands, a warm smile taking over his features. “Come on, it seems like we have a lot to catch up on. I have a feeling you have a lot to get off your chest.” He lets go of one hand, keeping hold of the other to walk you to the door. You lace your fingers through his, and it feels like the most natural thing in the world. 

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

You’d spent the last hour sitting in your favorite booth with Yunho, hashing through every single thing you hated about your ex. He was appalled by the things you’d told him, wishing he knew sooner so he could’ve tried to help you see you deserve someone better. Someone who valued your emotions, understood your needs, respected your boundaries… Someone like — 

“Yunho, are you with me?” Your voice shakes him out of his daze, bringing him back to the conversation.

“Sorry bean, I just can’t believe he was such an asshole behind closed doors,” he recovers, “I wish you told me sooner. I feel like I wasn’t there for you when I should’ve been.”

”It’s not your fault, I could’ve told you and I didn’t. I think I was in denial,” you scoff. ”I was settling and I knew it, I was just trying to pretend things were better, but I think I’d been checked out for a while.” You swirl your coffee around in your cup, avoiding the concerned look in his eye. If you looked at him too long, you’d risk reading something deeper in the way he cares about you, something that made your heart flutter and ache all at once.

”Y/n, do you remember the girl I was dating when we met?” His tone shifts, a slight vulnerability creeping in. You stop moving your cup, watching the drink settle. You nod hesitantly, still avoiding his eyes. 

Of course you remember her. You had developed a crush on Yunho in your first week working together, but you had to smother it at the first mention of her. Any hope you had left for a chance with him disintegrated the first time you saw her — she was the kind of beautiful you only saw on TV. Flawless skin, no split ends, a perfectly sculpted body. Even her voice was smooth. She seemed perfect for him. 

“She cheated on me.” 

Your head snaps up to him in disbelief. “Excuse me?” 

You remember him telling you they broke up in passing — it had been a month after you started a relationship of your own. Part of you always wondered if you had just missed your window to pursue something with Yunho, but you pushed that thought out of your head so you could be present for your best friend. He didn’t want to go into detail about the breakup at the time, and he never did in the two years that followed. 

“For the last six months of our relationship, she’d been sleeping with someone she reconnected with from high school. They realized they loved each other, and she ended things.” He offers a sad smile, but the bitterness lingers beneath the surface. You feel a tightness in your chest wondering why he didn’t want to share his pain with you while all of this was going on.  

”Oh, Yunnie,” you reach for his hand across the table, holding his large palm in yours. “I’m so sorry. I don’t understand how anyone could ever do that to you. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Maybe we can call it even?” He lets out a breathy laugh, ignoring your question. “You didn’t tell me your relationship troubles, I didn’t tell you mine. Now it’s all on the table and we can leave it in the past.” He squeezes your hand, waiting for your response. 

“Fine.” You flash a tight lipped smile, wanting to hash this open again with him at a later time. You didn’t keep secrets from each other, so why was he avoiding getting into this with you? 

“Well, it’s almost closing time.” Of course he’s gonna change the subject. “Do you need a night alone or are you coming home with me tonight?” He forces a smile from across the table, and you could’ve sworn his ears turned the slightest bit red asking you to spend the night. Sleepovers weren’t out of the norm for the two of you, but this proposal felt different for some reason. 

“I think if I’m alone at my place tonight I’ll revert to the sad couch potato I was before I texted you earlier.” You don’t really believe that, feeling like you’ve moved past the depression stage of grief and slowly inching toward acceptance. But you still wanted the company. 

“I’d love to come home with you, Yunnie.”

“Then let’s go, sweetheart.” 

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

Your neighborhood was so beautiful at night. The soft streetlights cast a gentle glow on the sidewalk, illuminating little puddles of water from last night’s rain. The fall air feels cool and crisp, carrying the faint smell of the changing leaves. This late at night, the stillness is calming… usually. 

You two had found this to be the perfect environment to have your deepest talks. Taking regular nighttime walks with Yunho had become one of your cherished rituals, especially when one of you needed to get something off your chest. You’d shared fragments of your lives, from your family drama to his frequent arguments with a stubborn coworker at his new job. But tonight, a suffocating silence swirls around you. 

You’d taken a full lap around the neighborhood in silence since leaving Blossom, the familiar path devoid of your usual chatter. As you approach Yunho’s place, his brisk pace and hands shoved deep in his pockets told you he wasn’t going to be the one to acknowledge it. He was never one for confrontation. If he wouldn’t tell you what’s going on voluntarily, you’d have to coax it out of him.   

You stop walking, the cool air feeling sharper on your skin. He takes three more strides before he stops too, spinning back around to face you, confusion etched on his devastatingly handsome features.

“You okay, bean?” he asks, tilting his head at you, genuine concern flickering in his eyes. 

“I feel like I should be asking you the same thing,” you reply, barely above a whisper. Maybe you weren’t one for confrontation either. 

He takes a step closer to you, “I’m fine,” he says with a quick shrug and a slight shake of his head. 

“Then why haven’t you spoken to me since we left Blossom? Did I say something to upset you?” You try your hardest to grab your frustration before it bubbles up, but you can already tell it’s too late. His dismissive tone, both here and at the cafe, gnaws at you. It triggers something inside of you from your recently ended relationship, and you feel on the verge of either shutting down or letting your emotions spiral.  

“I just thought you might want a quiet walk is all.” He can barely look you in the eye, and that’s when you know something is very wrong. 

“Come on Yun, you know that’s not what’s going on. Something is bothering you.” The frustration claws higher and higher, an unwelcome tightness gripping at your chest. Don’t cry, y/n.

He opens his mouth, the words hanging on the tip of his tongue, but stops himself, his hands finally pulling from his pockets to rest on his hips. He stares at a fallen leaf swirling in a puddle between you. 

“Is it because we talked about your ex?” He winces just a little at your words. “I didn’t mean to open old wounds, I just thought after everything we’ve shared with each other that you’d want to talk to me about it.” You don’t mean for your words to sound accusatory, but based on the way his body tenses, you realize they must have. 

“It’s not that, y/n, it’s not about…” his voice trails off into a sigh. His eyes search yours, his mind racing trying to decide if he wants to get into what’s really going on, what he’s been keeping inside for so long. 

“Then what is it?” You’re grasping at straws, desperately trying to get him to give you anything to go off of. When you’re met with more silence and an indiscernible look in his eyes, you push forward.

“I just don’t get why you wouldn’t tell me she cheated on you Yun, we help each other through everything.” Anger wells up in you, more at yourself for not asking him to open up to you about it at the time. 

“Y/n, please, it’s more complicated than just her cheating, and I just don’t know if now is the best time to get into it, you’re still—”

“Still what, Yunho? Grieving my own relationship? Just because I just got dumped doesn’t mean I can’t be here for you!” Your voice rises, each word sharp, the tension in your throat threatening to break. “You don’t get to decide what I can and can’t handle, that’s not up to you—”

“Fine,” he interrupts, “do you wanna know the real reason I didn’t tell you, y/n? Is that what you want?” His ears redden, and you can’t tell if he’s angry, embarrassed, or a combination of the two. You nod hesitantly. “I didn’t tell you she cheated because I didn’t care, okay? I didn’t care. Her heart wasn’t in it anymore, but neither was mine.” His chest heaves, squeezing his eyes shut tight for a brief moment to brace himself. 

“I didn’t care that she cheated, because I didn’t want her anyway.” He lets out a shaky breath. “I wanted you.” 

Oh. 

Oh. 

His eyes burn into yours as his words hang in the air between the two of you. 

“Yunho…” You take a step toward him only for him to take a step back. Your heart is pounding so hard in your chest, you wonder if he can hear it. What is happening right now?

“I’m sorry y/n, I can’t keep it to myself anymore. I’ve held it in for so long, and I just can’t do it anymore, I—” He stutters over his words, “I wasn’t grieving my relationship, I was grieving yours. You found someone just before she ended things with me, and I realized maybe you and I weren’t meant to be. That we’d never have the chance to try.” His eyes gloss over with pent up emotion, thinking about all the time he spent wondering what could’ve been. “I wanted you, but I had to act like I didn’t, and we were becoming such good friends, I didn’t want to ruin it, I just—” 

”Did you think I didn’t feel the same?” You interrupt him. “That I don’t feel the same now?” 

He tilts his head at you, the tension in his body visibly disintegrating. “What are you saying?” Brows furrowing, cheeks blushing, so many emotions flying through his features at a speed neither of you can process. He runs his hands down his face before resting them on his hips. “Sweetheart, what are you saying?” 

“I wanted you, too, Yun…” The words tumble out of you, a rush of honesty that feels both exhilarating and terrifying. “I want you too.”

He takes another step toward you, his mind racing as he searches for answers to never ending questions. “You did?” Another step. “You do?” 

“Yes, and yes,” you nod, feeling warmth flood your cheeks at your admission—both to Yunho and to you. You realize you’d never said it out loud before, not even to yourself. 

“Say it again,” he urges, closing the gap between the two of you. One hand finds your waist while the other gently cradles the back of your neck. His touch lights a fire on your skin, his hands feeling heavier on your body than they ever have before. Your hands find their way to his waist, tugging him closer to you. Chests heaving, hearts racing.

“I want you, Yunho.”  

The tension between you peaks, your grip tightening on one another, like if either one of you lets go, the moment will slip away. Yunho’s eyes search yours, looking for confirmation. 

He gently cups your face, his thumb brushing your cheek, wiping away the remnants of your tears. His touch sends a shiver down your spine, igniting the familiar spark that had always lingered between the two of you. Your breath hitches in your throat, caught between the fear of moving too fast and the undeniable pull you have always felt towards him. 

You bring a hand up to his cheek, your fingers gliding over his skin, feeling the warmth radiating from him. You linger for a moment before wrapping your fingers around the back of his neck, pulling him closer to you. 

“Y/n,” he whispers, “sweetheart,”  his gaze drops to your lips, and you swear you can hear your hearts beating in time with one another in the quiet. 

You take a deep breath, searching his gaze for the same spark of desire you feel coursing through your body. He inches closer, breath mingling with yours, heating the space between you.

“Is this okay?” he asks softly, his voice trembling slightly. 

You nod, breathless, as you lean in just enough to finally close the distance between the two of you. 

The tip of his nose brushes against yours, the contact making your head spin. You’ve thought about this moment countless times, and being here feels so right.

“Yunho,” you breathe, “please kiss me alr—“

His mouth molds to yours before you can finish your sentence, pulling all the remaining air from your lungs. The world around you explodes in a flash of warmth and tenderness, all the hurt you had been feeling melting away into a puddle at your feet.

You feel a rush of emotions— relief, joy, and a deep, intoxicating desire— as he deepens the kiss. Your hands tighten around the back of his neck, pulling him closer as he sweeps his tongue across your bottom lip. You lose yourself in the sensation, the taste of him and the feeling of his lips on yours erasing everything else you’ve ever felt. 

His fingers tangle in your hair, holding you as if you might disappear. This moment, this kiss, feels like a declaration— a culmination of all the unspoken words, the hidden glances, the years of longing between the two of you. It’s exhilarating.

He finally pulls away, resting his forehead against yours, your heavy breaths the only sounds on the quiet street. Your hands slide from his neck, traveling down his chest before settling on his waist. 

“Sorry sweetheart, I didn’t mean to cut you off,” he chuckles, brushing a strand of hair from your face, “I’ve just been waiting a really long time to do that.” He drops a gentle kiss to your forehead before wrapping his arms around you to pull you close. 

“You can cut me off anytime if it means I get to kiss you,” you nuzzle into his chest. The steady thud of his heartbeat slows yours to match. 

“Oh yeah?” He looks down at you, a teasing glint in his eyes. 

“Yes, abso—“

His lips connect to yours again, a fire igniting in your belly when his tongue tangles with yours. He tastes like caramel, the sweetness of his latte lingering on his tongue. Wide hands wrap around your hips, dragging you closer, rolling your body into him. 

You snake your hands up his lower back, digging your nails into his skin through his shirt. A low groan rumbles deep in Yunho’s throat at the sensation, sending a bolt of heat straight to your core. A whimper crawls up your throat before you can stop it, and Yunho smiles against your mouth. He draws your bottom lip between his teeth, biting down gently. 

“Your lips are even softer than I imagined they’d be,” he gives you one more lingering kiss before pulling back. His deep eyes find yours, his blushed cheeks glowing under the streetlights. 

“You’ve imagined kissing me?” Shyness creeps in at the realization that Yunho thought about you in the same way you thought about him. 

“Among other things, yes,” he brushes your hair out of your face, his palm settling to cup your cheek. “You’re cute when you blush.” 

“I am not blushing!” You hide your face in your hands. “Maybe I am, but how can I not when you talk to me like that,” you muffle into your palms. 

“I’ll talk to you any way you want if it means you’ll react like this,” he teases, gently pulling your hands from your face to hold them in his. “Your hands are freezing, sweetheart,” he brings your hands to his mouth, holding them between his and blowing his hot breath onto them to warm them up.

”Well we have been out here a while,” you shiver at the feeling of his breath on your skin. 

“Am I still allowed to take you home tonight, or would that complicate things?” He’s either nervous, or hesitant. Either would make sense, you just got dumped and 24 hours later you’re confessing your feelings for your best friend (and kissing him). Anyone with a brain might wonder if you’re rushing, or worse, rebounding. Once you get out of this cold, you can talk things through. 

“Yes, please, let’s go.” You take his hand in yours, kissing his knuckles before pulling him in the direction of his place.

“You got it, baby.” He slings an arm over your shoulder, planting a kiss to the top of your head. Your heart flutters as you walk toward his apartment. 

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

As soon as you walk through Yunho’s front door, he breezes past you to grab two wine glasses and a bottle of your favorite rosé while you kick off your boots. As you shed your jacket, he sets two full glasses on his simple wooden coffee table, heading back to his kitchen to grab a bag of chips and some chocolates. He returns with his hands full, confusion lacing his features when he finds you standing in the middle of his living room stifling a laugh. 

“Is something funny?” He chuckles at your reddening cheeks as you let out a giggle. 

“When did you get so nervous to have me in your apartment?” Part of you feels bad for teasing, but he looks so cute when he’s flustered, you can’t help it. “I’ve never seen you move so fast to get me a glass of wine.” 

“Well, when you decide to tell me you want me in the middle of the street, that tends to change things, baby,” he grins at you, clocking you for the second time now having a physical reaction to his newest pet name for you. You thought sweetheart sounded beautiful coming out of his mouth, but baby is a whole new level of intoxicating.

”You said it first, but I guess that does change things, huh, baby?” You cross your arms, challenging him. “Do I make you nervous, Jeong Yunho?” 

“You make me a lot of things, sweetheart, but nervous isn’t one of them.” He pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue, the gesture making your head spin. After setting your snacks down on the coffee table, he finally takes off his jacket and kicks off his shoes. He plops down on his couch, patting the empty cushion next to him. “Come sit with me,” the deep, inviting tone of his voice has you moving to him immediately. Grabbing your wine, you sit next to him, folding one leg up onto the couch to turn to face him. He copies your position, his knee resting just an inch from yours. 

“What do I make you feel, then?” You swirl your wine in your glass as your gaze flicks over his handsome features. Landing on his eyes, your heart jumps at the way they shine for you. 

“Fulfilled,” he starts, scooting closer to you so your knees are just barely touching. “Cared for, understood,” the corner of his mouth quirks up slightly, “and loved.” 

A bloom of warmth floods your chest at the word. This is what you’ve been missing the last few years. You thought your ex would give you this sense of gratification if you gave him more time, but what you were searching for was in your best friend. You always knew in the back of your mind that it was him. The one who held you when you cried, who made you laugh until your stomach hurt, who would drop everything to be there when you needed him. You take a big sip of your wine. 

“I was settling,” the words fall off your lips before you can stop them, the alcohol warming your cheeks right away. “I thought that if I kept giving him everything he would eventually give me half of what I was craving, but in the back of my mind I think I knew he’d never be what I really needed… I settled for him.” 

Yunho offers a soft nod, zero judgment, only understanding. “And what is it you were craving?” He moves even closer to you, your shins now pressed together. 

“You,” you sigh, his deep eyes boring into yours, waiting for more. You tap your fingers on your wine glass, contemplating your next words. “The connection, the comfort, the joy, the love that you gave me,” your throat tightens thinking about the nights you spent longing for your best friend. “I wanted you, how you made me feel…but I settled for him.” 

“Right person, wrong time,” Yunho scoffs, a gentle shake of his head, “kind of applies to us, right? We’ve wanted each other for years now, but we just never had the chance.”

“I should’ve told you sooner, Yun,” your hand rests on his, his fingers immediately lacing between yours. “We’ve wasted so much time,” hot tears blur your vision, but you blink them away before they fall.

“Hey, we have all the time in the world, baby,” he brings your hand to his mouth, planting a gentle kiss on your knuckles. “All the time in the world,” he muffles against your skin. You turn your palm to hold his cheek, and you notice his eyes roll back before they flutter closed.

“All the time in the world,” you repeat, threading your fingers into his hair. A future with Yunho flashes through your mind. Lazy Sunday mornings, celebrating milestones and holidays together, late nights tangled in the sheets, his body taking over yours — 

“Y/n…” His deep, smooth voice brings you back to the moment, the sound of your name on his lips heating your cheeks. 

“Hm?” 

He gently takes your wine glass from your hand, setting it on the coffee table next to his untouched one. When his eyes find yours again, warmth pools in your belly at the darkness that’s taken over his features. “I really want to kiss you again, but I feel like we should talk first,” he takes both your hands in his, and your heart pounds a beat faster in your chest. “If you spend the night tonight, there’s no going back. Once I have you, I don’t think I can let you go.” 

“I don’t want you to let me go, Yun,” you squeeze his hands in yours. “I’ve waited too long to get here, I don’t wanna go back… You already have me, don’t let me go.” The thudding in your rib cage intensifies with every second of heated silence.

“I couldn’t if I tried,” he finally says, pulling you in, crashing his lips into yours. His hands find your waist, his tongue exploring your mouth, and you wrap your arms around his neck as he pulls you into his lap. You straddle him, resting your knees on either side of his hips, deepening the kiss as his hands wander to cup your ass, pulling you closer to him. You roll your hips against him, his grip tightening on you as he drags your body over him. A groan rumbles in his chest and you feel his cock stiffening beneath you, grinding on him slower and harder. 

“I can’t believe you’re finally mine,” Yuhho’s hand snakes up your back and into your hair, gently removing your clip and tossing it to the floor before gripping your locks and tilting your head to the side, exposing the sensitive column of your neck to his mouth. He nips at your skin, licking the spot with his tongue, moving up to the tender spot under your ear. “My beautiful girl,” his hot breath in your ear has your entire body blooming with goosebumps.

”Yunho,” you roll your hips over him again as his lips travel down your neck to your collarbone, a whimper crawling up your throat at your rough jeans catching on your swelling clit. He feels harder and harder underneath you with each rock against him, and you’re cursing yourself for wearing such thick pants. You just want to feel him. 

“Yes, sweetheart?” He tightens his grip on your hair, kissing back up your neck until his lips connect with yours again. You moan into his mouth as his other hand guides your hips back and forth, shamelessly grinding your bodies against each other like horny teenagers. 

“Touch me please,” you beg, catching his bottom lip between your teeth, sucking on it gently. 

“Only because you asked so nicely,” he teases. He snakes an arm around your waist and smoothly rolls you onto your back, laying you down in the soft cushions. He kneels, settling between your legs, spreading them wide to roll his hips into your needy clothed core. His mouth finds yours again, tangling his tongue with yours.

The hand in your hair loosens, trailing down your body, ghosting over your breasts, down your belly, and lifting your sweater slightly to get to your jeans. He makes light work of the button and zipper, his nimble fingers undoing the fastenings with ease, all while keeping his mouth on yours. You feel him tapping on your ass, signaling you to lift your hips. When you do, he shimmies your jeans down your legs agonizingly slowly, breaking the kiss to admire the bits of your skin he’s dreamt about for years. 

He tosses your jeans on his living room floor, and a timidity slithers up at the realization that you’re in your underwear on your best friend’s couch.  His broad hands rest on your thighs, letting you close them slightly, your shared shuddering breaths the only sound in his quiet apartment. 

“Getting shy on me, sweetheart?” He teases you, reading your mind. He knows you so well. You giggle as he slides his hands to your sweater, dragging it up your body, exposing your panties, shifting it higher and higher until the bottom hem of your bra is barely showing. He slides his hands under your top, expertly cradling your bra-clad breasts in his hands, letting out a restrained groan. The energy shifts and you whimper, watching his eyes locked on the way his fingers swim beneath the fabric of your sweater. You let your legs fall open slightly as Yunho slots himself between them, peppering your belly with gentle kisses and thumbing one of your pebbling nipples through the thin material of your bra. 

“Yun…” you sigh, running your fingers through his hair as he kisses you lower and lower, “please,” 

“Mhm,” he nods against your soft skin, shifting down to lay on his belly between your legs, hooking your knees over his shoulders. You feel his searing breath over your pussy, cooling the growing wet patch in your panties, making you clench around nothing. He picks up on your reaction, gripping your hips before blowing a steady stream of air over your sensitive heat. 

“Oh,” you breathe, wriggling under his strong grasp, spreading your legs wider for him. 

“You’re so reactive,” he murmurs, biting down on your inner thigh, soothing the spot with his tongue. You yelp at the sensation, covering your mouth in shock of the sound that just came out of you. Yunho chuckles darkly, “don’t hold back, baby, I wanna hear all the noises you make.” 

He hooks an arm over your hip so his hand rests on your mound. He grips your panties in his fist, pulling them up until the fabric slips between your wet folds, gliding firmly over your clit. You stifle a sob as he tugs them harder, biting you once more. 

“I thought I told you not to hold back, sweetheart,” he licks your skin again, soothing the angry bite mark that will surely be bruised by morning. Another tug of your panties has you mewling, one hand gripping his hair for dear life, the other blindly searching for anything to ground you. 

“Yunnie, please, stop teasing me,” you never thought your sweet and wholesome best friend could have you whimpering and begging beneath him, hardly having touched you. He has such a dark, dominating presence about him in this moment, and it’s making your head fuzzy. 

He lets go of your panties, swiftly pulling them to the side, exposing your wet heat to the cool air. You suck in a sharp inhale, finally bare to him.

“Fuck,” he moans, “look at you, baby,” he runs two fingers through your heat, the sudden contact making you cry out. He spreads you wide to see every inch of you, taking his time. “So pretty,” he breathes. 

“I need you, please,” you whine, “are you gonna make me keep begging?” 

“Baby, I’ve wanted to touch you like this for years,” he drawls, “let me savor it a little.” Before you can protest, he teases your entrance with two fingers, slowly thrusting them deeper and deeper inside you, little by little, until his palm is flush with your cunt. Your head falls back into the cushions, your chest heaving. You had daydreamed about how his fingers would feel inside of you, but nothing compares to the real thing. He pumps in and out a few more times before he curls his fingers, hitting the spot that makes your back arch. You grip his hair, tugging on it harder than you mean to, but you can’t help it. You miss the way his eyes roll back, his mouth hanging open at the pain. 

Yunho lets you guide his mouth to your core, his fingers keeping a steady pace as he uses his free hand to spread you open, swirling his tongue around your clit. 

“Yunnie…” you whimper, grinding your hips on his mouth. He nods against you, sucking your clit into his mouth, rolling his tongue over the swollen bud over and over in time with his fingers moving in and out of you. Pleasure blooms in your belly as he works you, each flick of his tongue bringing you closer to the edge. 

“Feeling good, sweetheart?” He replaces his tongue with his thumb, circling your clit softly to ease you into the sensation. You push yourself down into his hand, needing more. He chuckles, applying more pressure until he feels you melting under him.

“Yes, so good Yun, fuck,” the pressure low in your belly builds rapidly, and you know if he keeps going at this pace, you’ll fall apart in no time. You prop yourself up on your elbows to look at him, and once your eyes lock with his you know you’re a goner. 

His hair is mussed from your tugging on it, his cheeks flushed, his mouth glistening, a bead of sweat dripping down his temple as he picks up the pace ever so slightly. He smirks at you, letting your legs fall from his shoulders so he can kneel between them again, sitting back to get a good look at you, never slowing his ministrations. You make the mistake of glancing down, your mouth drying at the sight of his cock pressing against the confines of his jeans. He hits that spot deep inside you again, and you fall back into the cushions, breathy curses falling from your mouth over and over. 

“You look so beautiful like this, fucking hell,” he drops his free hand next to your head, caging you in beneath him, watching his fingers pistoning in and out of you faster and faster, circling your clit in a matching pace. “Mine, mine, mine,” he repeats over and over, like he can’t believe this is finally happening. He brings his lips to yours, mumbling the words against your mouth as you nod wordlessly in agreement, the taste of yourself on his tongue making you dizzy. He kisses you down to your neck, nipping at your sensitive skin, praise after praise whispered into your ear. 

“Tell me you’re mine,” he emphasizes his words with a sharp thrust of his fingers, and you cry out at the sensation. 

“I’m yours, I’m yours— fuck!” You feel the cord in your belly tightening and tightening. 

“Good fucking girl,” he whispers in your ear, nipping at your earlobe, “come around my fingers, baby,” 

“Oh, oh,” you shudder underneath him, his words pushing you over the edge as your orgasm rips through your body, pleasure burning from the inside out. He kisses you hard, slowing his pace bit by bit to ease you through your climax, your body trembling in his hold. “Yunho,” you mumble into his mouth, “I’m yours,” you whisper.

“You sure are,” he peppers your cheeks with soft, tender kisses, your brain slowly coming back online as he slows his fingers, coming to a stop. “And I’m yours,” he kisses you gently, easing his fingers out of you, slipping your panties back into place. He lays down on the couch next to you, pulling your favorite throw blanket over your exposed bottom half, tracing hearts and stars on your skin while your breathing steadies, running his fingers through your hair as you let your eyes flutter closed. You snuggle into him, the warmth of his body keeping the flame in your core burning. 

“You are incredible, Jeong Yunho,” you giggle as he kisses every inch of your face, his soft lips mapping the details of your skin. He wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you flush against him. 

“Why, because I made you come in 5 minutes flat?” His low drawl has desire coursing through your veins, part of you feeling embarrassed he can turn you on so easily with just his words. 

Your breath hitches as you nod, trying to keep your cool, but he knows you better than that by now. “You really like when I talk to you like this, don’t you, baby?” 

“Apparently I do,” you turn to look at him, a teasing glint in his eyes, his fingers dancing across the bare skin of your belly. “I’d love to hear what else you have to say,” you tease. 

“Well for starters, I want to take you to bed” His mouth hovers over the shell of your ear, the combination of his hot breath fanning over your skin and the vibrations of his deep voice have lust taking over your thoughts once again. “I want to fuck you properly, and we just don’t exactly have the space for that here,” you can hear the smile in his voice.

“Oh,” you giggle, his straightforwardness taking you by surprise. Just like that you’re throbbing for him again, your mind racing thinking about where your night with him is going to go. “I’d like that.”

Before he can catch you, you jump up from the couch, leaving your throw blanket behind, beelining for the hallway toward Yunho’s bedroom, giggling the whole way.

“Hey!” He laughs, clamoring up to chase after you. A few long strides and he’s caught up to you, right in the doorway of his bedroom. He hooks an arm around your waist and you yelp as he spins you around to face him, the momentum of both your running carrying you to the foot of his bed. The backs of your knees hit the mattress, but he holds you upright, pressing your body against his. Your eyes lock, both of you breathing heavily.

“Someone’s excited,” Yunho chuckles, giving you a firm kiss before pushing you back onto his bed. You let out a breathless laugh as you plop down on the mattress, pushing yourself to sit upright.  

“A little,” your hands find his torso, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. He smirks down at you as you run your hands under his shirt and up his stomach to chest. He lets out a shaky breath at the feeling of your hands on him, and pulls his shirt off over his head, discarding it on the floor. You’d seen him without a shirt a handful of times, but this close he looks ethereal. Your fingers dance across his bare skin, reveling in the feeling of being able to touch him like this. You want to see more of him, touch more of him, taste more of him. 

“Yun,” you start, hesitant to take the lead. You slide your hands down his body until your fingers feel the smooth leather of his belt. Your eyes meet his, not breaking contact while you smoothly undo his belt buckle. “Can I?” You whisper. 

“You can do whatever you want to me, y/n,” he breathes, looking down to where your fingers are undoing the button of his jeans, sliding the zipper down slowly. You pull his jeans down, and he kicks them to the side, standing before you in only his boxers, his hard length pressing against the confines of the fabric.

His fingers lace through your hair, gripping it gently to tip your head back. Keeping your eyes on him, you slowly pull your sweater over your head, letting him let go of your hair to take it from your hands and toss it to the floor. You reach behind you, undoing the clasp of your bra, slowly sliding it from your body and dropping it next to your discarded sweater. Yunho’s chest heaves as he pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue, drinking this image of you in, dragging his gaze across your exposed chest.

“So beautiful,” his voice has dropped even lower, a tone you’ve never heard from him, the deep timbre stoking the fire deep inside you. “You are so beautiful,” he cups your face in his hands, bending over to kiss you softly. He parts your lips with his tongue as you rest your hands on his abdomen, sliding one down to palm his cock over his boxers. 

“Fuck,” he groans into your mouth, your fingers wrapping around him as much as you can through the fabric, stroking his impressive length as he licks deeper into your mouth. You pump him from base to tip, running your thumb over the wet patch at the head of his cock, drawing another guttural moan from his lips. Your mouth is watering at the feeling of him, but it’s not enough. 

You dip your fingers under the waistband of his boxers, and Yunho breaks the kiss to watch you pull them slowly down, down, down, until his cock springs free, hanging heavy in front of you. You absentmindedly lick your lips at the sight of him, feeling the wetness in your panties growing. Lust prickles across your skin thinking about feeling him inside of you. 

“Yunho,” you sigh, wrapping your fingers around him, pumping him slowly as he stands up straight, tugging your hair in his fist to tip your head back again. “I want you to fuck my throat,” you whine, “please,” 

“Oh, baby,” he grips your hair tighter at your words while you stroke him, the sting making your cheeks warm, “you want me to stuff your pretty little mouth? Wanna wrap those beautiful lips around me?” Towering over you like this, you start to realize just how much he could overpower you, and the thought spreads heat through your abdomen. 

“Please,” you nod, “I wanna taste you,” you open your mouth, sticking your tongue out for him, keeping your eyes on his. You pump his length twice more as you guide his hips toward your mouth, dropping your hands into your lap as his tip rests on your tongue. 

“Mmh, so pretty,” he whispers, wrapping his fist around his cock, tapping his tip on your tongue before sliding past your lips. “If it gets to be too much, just tap my thigh, okay sweetheart?” 

You nod, wrapping your lips around him, sliding your tongue over the sensitive underside of his tip. His head falls back, a beautiful moan falling from his lips as you slowly start to bob your head. You take more of him, inch by inch until his cock taps the back of your throat. You swallow around him, and he absentmindedly thrusts deeper, chasing the sensation. 

“Fuck,” he groans, his grip on your hair tightening again as he holds you there. “I’m gonna move now, is that okay?” He brings his free hand to your cheek, caressing it gently as you nod in confirmation. As soon as you give him the signal, he pulls back slightly, rocking his hips slowly, savoring the feeling of your lips wrapped around him and your tongue gliding over him. “So beautiful with your mouth stuffed so  full,” he praises you, thrusting deeper into your mouth, down your throat, testing the limits of what you can take. He finds a steady rhythm, and you match his pace, bobbing your head and licking over every inch of him as he pumps in and out of your mouth, the stretch burning your throat deliciously.

You can’t take your eyes off of him, tears blurring your vision as you admire his lustful features. His furrowed brow, his blown pupils, his flushed cheeks. The bead of sweat dripping down the tip of his nose, the tensing muscles in his stomach as he pumps into your mouth… he looks so beautiful. You find yourself rocking your hips, grinding into the mattress, looking for any friction you can get.

He thrusts deep into your mouth, his cock hitting the back of your throat again, and he holds you down on him, your nose brushing over his abdomen. The lack of air makes your head spin, and you want him even deeper. You reach up to grab his hips, but your hand bumps his thigh on the way up, which he takes as your signal that it’s too much. 

“Shit,” he pulls out of your mouth, and you gasp for air as he drops to his knees in front of you. “Are you okay, baby? I’m so sorry, was that too rough?” His eyes are full of panic and he brushes your hair out of your face, wiping the saliva that had bubbled up at the corners of your mouth. It all happens so fast, it takes you a moment to process the man waiting in front of you, waiting for a response. Before you can stop yourself, a smile breaks across your face and a giggle rises up your throat. 

“Yunnie,” you laugh, cradling his concerned face in your hands, “I’m fine, more than fine,” you try to catch your breath. “I was trying to…grab your hips to pull you closer, but I … bumped your leg by mistake,” his panicked face relaxes, a beautiful smile taking its place, and he lets out a deep sigh of relief. “I do appreciate how quickly you stopped though,” you tease him, your breathing finally steady, “it’s nice to know my boundaries will be taken very seriously.” 

“You scared me!” He laughs, dropping his head in your lap. 

“It was an accident!” You laugh with him, brushing through his hair with your fingers. “I actually wanted you to be more rough with me,” 

He straightens up. “Is that so?” He plants his hands on the mattress on either side of your hips, the darkness returning to his gaze as he stands again, leaning over you. You lean back onto your elbows as he towers over you, his eyes raking over every inch of your body. 

“It is,” you whisper, suddenly feeling so small beneath him, all lightheartedness suddenly sucked out of the room. “I would enjoy that very much,” 

“Mmh,” he hooks an arm under your waist, lifting you easily and moving your body further up the mattress. You let out a small yelp as he drops you, heart warming as he reaches above you to grab a pillow to prop under your head. Once he’s sure you’re comfortable, he spreads your legs wide open, kneeling between them. 

“I would enjoy that too, however,” he runs his hands up your calves, your thighs, until he reaches your center, using both hands to spread you wide open. You watch in awe as he runs two fingers through your arousal, teasingly dipping them inside of you. “I want to savor every moment of this,” he dips down to kiss you softly as he drives his fingers even deeper, prodding that tender spot inside of you, drawing a whine from your lips. “Let me be gentle this time, let me show you how much I–” he pauses, something indiscernible flashing through his eyes. “Let me show you how much I’ve been wanting you,” he recovers. “Then next time,” his thumb flicks over your clit, “I will do whatever you want me to do to you,” he circles the sensitive bud, your mind reeling. “Does that sound good, baby?” 

“Mhm,” you nod, “so good,” you whimper as he scissors his fingers inside of you, surely trying to stretch you open for what’s to come. 

He reaches for the drawer in his nightstand with his free hand, but you stop him. “You don’t have to wear one,” you interrupt.

“Are you sure?” His fingers keep moving inside of you, stretching you wider with each thrust, but still giving your conversation his attention.

“I’m on the pill and was tested recently, so yes, please Yunnie, I want to feel you,” you mewl, “please let me feel you,”  

“So good for me,” he praises you over and over, “are you ready?” 

“Yes, please,” you whine when he pulls his fingers from your cunt, desperate for him. He lifts your hips, pulling you closer to him, nestling himself between your legs, being sure to adjust your pillow once more. He spreads you open with one hand, tapping the tip of his solid cock on your swollen clit before rubbing it up and down your slit, lining up with your entrance. You both freeze at the same time as the reality of what’s about to happen finally hits you.

The feeling of this moment is nothing you’ve experienced before. For years, you’ve longed for Yunho, wanting the intimacy of your friendship to go beyond just emotional intimacy. You’ve yearned for him as long as you’ve known him. You wanted him– all of him. Finally, the universe decided it’s time for you two to experience that. 

You realize he’s feeling it too, his hand finding your cheek in the silence, brushing away a tear that you didn’t realize had fallen down your cheek. “I know, baby,” he whispers, and that’s all you need to hear. 

He presses his lips to your forehead as he slowly pushes inside, easing you into the sensation, gently stretching you out on his cock. You feel grateful that he prepped you with his fingers, the sting you feel only lasting a few brief moments before he’s smoothly gliding into you. He pushes in deeper and deeper, until you’re filled to the brim. He drops his hands to the mattress on either side of your head as he bottoms out. Almost in unison, you both let out a shuddering exhale. 

“You feel incredible, fuck” he breathes against your forehead, finally pulling back to look into your eyes, your bodies finally connected physically in the way they’ve felt connected spiritually all these years. “And you look so pretty, my angel,” he whispers, his eyes shining. 

“I don’t know how you can still manage to make me blush when you’re literally inside of me,” you pant, shyly giggling as your cheeks warm under his loving gaze. He hisses at the way you squeeze around him when you laugh. “Sorry,” you cover your mouth with your hand to stifle your giggles. 

“I’m learning so much about you today,” he pulls hips back slightly before burying himself inside you again, all teasing coming to an instant halt as the tip of his cock presses against your g-spot. 

“Oh my–” your back arches at the feeling, “God Yunnie, I feel so f-full.” 

“You’re doing so well baby,” he praises you again, giving you a moment to adjust to his size. “Look at you, so beautiful taking my cock.” 

“I need you to fuck me,” you scramble to grip his forearms, feeling the taut muscles under his skin. “Please,” you wriggle your hips beneath him, “move,” 

“Mm,” he pulls out almost completely, just the tip of his cock resting inside of you, “say it again, sweetheart,” 

“Fuck me Yunnie, please,” you beg, trying to push your hips down on his cock. 

“God, I’ve waited so long to hear you say that, I’ll never get tired of it” he slams into you, and you cry out as he bottoms out inside of you again. He sets a steady pace, rolling his hips into you over and over, the feeling of him pumping in and out of you more delicious than you could’ve ever imagined. He kisses you hard, licking into your mouth, swallowing all of your pretty little moans. 

He cups one of your breasts in his wide palm, running his thumb over your nipple, stoking the fire in the pit of your belly. He straightens, admiring how beautiful you look while you take him. Your lips red and puffy, your eyes half lidded, your breasts bouncing with each thrust. 

“So pretty, taking me so well,” he praises you as his hand coasts up your chest, fingers gently wrapping around your neck. He holds his hand there for a moment, making a mental note of the way your eyes light up when he briefly squeezes the column of your throat. 

“F-feels so g-good,” you choke out between thrusts. His thumb slides along your jaw toward your chin, prodding at your bottom lip, coaxing your mouth open. You wrap your lips around his thumb, sucking on it briefly before he pops it out of your mouth, trailing it down your body until he reaches your clit. The contact has your head spinning, the cord in your center tightening and tightening as he flicks your sensitive bud. 

“Baby, look,” his voice cuts through the foggy lust in your head, grabbing your attention. He nods down to where your bodies are connected, gesturing for you to take a glance. 

One look at him splitting you open has your climax threatening to wash over you, warmth running up and down your spine at the sight of your arousal shining on his cock as he pistons in and out of your heat relentlessly. He swirls his thumb around your clit faster at the feeling of you squeezing around him.

“You close, sweetheart?” He’s breathless as he fucks you, hitting so deep inside you that you can feel it in your stomach. 

“Mhm, fuck, yes,” you cry out, scrambling for his free hand, lacing your fingers between his. 

“Come on, I want to watch you fall apart around my cock.” He’s fucking you impossibly hard, each thrust hitting just right, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. “Let me feel you, love,” 

“Oh my god,” you stammer out a string of curses as your second orgasm washes over you, your heart thudding in your ears as your body tenses underneath him. He barely slows his pace, keeping his thumb resting on your clit, fucking you through your high. 

“There she is,” he coos, slowing little by little until your body starts to relax. He thrusts all the way inside, bottoming out, collapsing over you. 

“Wow,” you laugh, bringing your hands up to cradle his flushed face. “That was,” 

“Incredible?” He finishes your sentence, kissing your sweaty forehead over and over. You let out a soft moan in agreement, and his cock jumps inside of you at the sound. 

“Mmh,” you whimper, the warmth creeping back into your belly, and you squeeze around Yunho’s cock. 

“Wanting more already?” He teases, pushing his hips against you, thrusting himself in even deeper. 

“Absolutely,” you squeeze around him again, craning your neck up to capture his lips with yours. “Fuck me however you want, baby,” you whisper against his mouth. His cock twitches inside you again and you giggle, waiting for his next move. 

“Flip over,” he pants, “I wanna fuck you like this,” he slips out of you and you whine, feeling empty. He helps you roll onto your belly, kneeling behind you as he pulls your ass in the air and plants a hand in the middle of your back, guiding you to arch for him. You squish your cheek into the mattress, trying to look back at him. “Fucking hell,” he palms your ass with both hands, admiring your delectable form, “you are unreal.” 

“Yun, please, I need you,” you whine as he bends over your body, planting hot, wet kisses up your spine until he reaches the nape of your neck, bringing his lips to your ear. You feel his cock bump against your backside, his body flush against yours.

“You are insatiable, my love,” your heart flutters at the word, but your lust pushes any overanalyzing to the back of your mind in favor of how desperate you are for him. 

You push back into him, feeling the tip of his cock bump against your heat. He straightens at the feeling, rubbing circles into your hips with his thumbs as he watches you move. You roll your hips, catching the tip of his cock between your folds, wiggling and rocking to find the right angle before it finally slips inside. 

“Oh, fuck,” he whimpers as you push back, taking him deeper and deeper until your ass is flush against him. You start bouncing your hips, taking him in and out, slowly at first, the sounds of his moans filling your ears and soaking your center. 

“Feel good, baby?” You muffle from beneath him, moving your hips quicker with each bounce on his cock. You open your legs a little wider, the new angle rocking his cock against your g-spot. 

“The best thing I’ve ever felt,” he rolls his hips to meet yours, the sound of skin slapping filling the air of his bedroom. “I can’t believe how long we’ve waited for this,” he grips your hips, meeting your thrusts in earnest, fucking into you impossibly deep. You match each other’s pace immediately, moans and whines filling the air. 

He threads his fingers through your hair, tugging you upwards until your body is flush against his, your sweat-slicked bodies rocking together. His hand drops from your hair to wrap around your neck, holding you firmly in place as he threads his other hand between your legs, his middle and ring finger easily finding your swollen clit. 

“I want you like this forever,” he whispers in your ear as he drives into you, your motivation to bounce on him melting into the mattress beneath you. You want him to take you however he wants you, your body molding into his grip. 

“Forever,” you nod as he kisses your neck, “you have me forever Yunnie,” 

“Again,” he groans as you tighten around him, his fingers swirling around your clit, your third orgasm of the night building rapidly low in your belly. “Say it again,” 

“Forever,” you repeat, “I’m yours forever,” 

“Fuck, sweetheart, I’m so close,” he growls into your ear, “you take me so well, like you were made for me,” 

“I was, Yun,” you assure him, “I was made for you,” he rubs your clit faster, “and you were made for me,” 

“God, yes,” he kisses your shoulder, his pace faltering as he gets closer to the edge, “I love you, y/n, fuck.” His fingers swirl around your clit as his hips stutter, spilling hot and fast inside of you. “I love you, I love you, I love you,” he repeats over and over as he ruts into you. 

“I love you, Yunho,” you cry out, your heart exploding as your orgasm follows, your body shuddering against him as you come together, your words and his swirling around you in the afterglow. 

He holds you tight against him, guiding your spent form back down to the mattress, kissing every inch of your skin as you both come down from your highs. He slips out of you, lowering your hips, massaging your sore muscles before rolling onto his back next to you. You mimic his position, flipping over so you’re both staring at the ceiling, processing the words you both just confessed. You lay together in silence, the sounds of both of you trying to catch your breath filling the room. You let your eyes close, processing the moment.

“Jeong Yunho,” your voice is hoarse once you speak. “Tell me you love me.” Your eyes flutter open, turning your head to see him already beaming at you. He rolls onto his side, bringing himself nose to nose with you. 

“I love you.” He declares, clear and confident, your heart swelling in your chest. His lips brush over yours, both of you smiling as he kisses you softly. “Your turn,” he whispers. You copy him, rolling onto your side, brushing his sweat slicked hair from his forehead as he throws an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

“I love you,” you giggle, kissing him again. 

“One more time?” 

“I, love, you,” you emphasize each word with a gentle kiss on his lips, 

“I will never get tired of hearing that,” he whispers. “Let’s go get cleaned up.” 

You whine in protest, but Yunho eventually gets you into the bathroom, running a hot shower for the both of you. You wash up together, hardly able to keep your hands off of each other. Once you’ve fallen apart in his hands twice more and the water’s run cold, he helps you into a pair of his boxers and his biggest, softest sweatshirt. 

“This feels like a dream,” you think out loud once you’re snuggled up in Yunho’s bed together. “Is this a dream?” 

“If it is, I never want to wake up,” he smiles at you under the dim street lights flooding through his windows. “This is all I need, forever.” 

You kiss him at that, soft and tender, his arms wrapping tighter around you, holding you close. You fall asleep shortly after, nose to nose, hearts full. 

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

You wake to the morning sun shining through Yunho’s bedroom windows, the sweet smell of vanilla flooding your nose. Stretching your tired limbs, you roll over to find the other side of the bed empty. Panic floods your mind at the sight, your past making you assume the worst. Is he sleeping on the couch? You wonder. Does he regret what he said and now he’s avoiding me? Before you can reason with yourself, you jump out of bed and speed walk down the hallway, stopping dead in your tracks when you reach the kitchen. 

“You’re not freaking out, are you y/n?” Yunho drawls, his voice still laced with sleep, low and raspy. He hasn’t even looked at you yet, his focus being on the plate on the counter in front of him, but he already knows where your mind is at just by the sound of your footsteps coming down the hallway. Of course he does. His bare, wide shoulders shake as he laughs to himself. His pajama pants hang low on his hips, the muscles in his back moving beneath his skin as he throws the final touches on what’s in front of him. He spins around to face you holding a plate of pancakes, littered with strawberries cut into hearts. Your heart flutters at the scene in front of you. “You think I’m gonna make love to you, tell you that I love you, and not make you breakfast in the morning?” 

Suddenly feeling self conscious over your immediate assumption that he regretted your night together, you cross your arms, avoiding his gaze. “I got scared,” you whisper. 

“That I left you in my apartment all alone? Baby,” he puts the plate down, “I would never, especially after last night,” he crosses the kitchen to reach you, pulling you into his warm embrace, his hot skin beneath you melting away the coldness you felt from waking up alone. “I’m not like…him,” he reminds you, brushing his fingers through your hair. “You are safe with me. Safe, loved, protected, respected, I could go on and on. Do you understand me?” He presses a gentle kiss to the top of your head. 

You nod against his chest. “I do,” you feel a tear slide down your cheek, spreading from your skin, onto his. He squeezes you in a tight hug. 

“Come on, let’s get some food in your system. You haven’t eaten since our pastries at Blossom last night,” he releases you to grab your plate, as well as a second he made for himself, and drops another quick kiss to your forehead before carrying them to the coffee table in his living room. 

“Come sit,” he beckons you, and you follow automatically, plopping on the couch. He grabs your favorite throw blanket before sitting down next to you, draping it over both of your laps. No matter how hard you try to ignore them, negative thoughts are still plaguing your mind. You both pick up your plates, eating in silence for a few moments before Yunho speaks up again. 

“Y/n, what’s on your mind?” His tone is so sincere, you immediately feel guilty for making him worry. 

“I’m just–” you hesitate for a moment. “I’m scared it’s too good to be true.” 

“What is? Us?” Worry flickers across his features, his heart aching seeing you so distraught. 

“Yeah,” you sigh, poking at one of your pancakes with your fork. You know you’re being unreasonable, and that Yunho has shown you nothing but love and commitment as long as you’ve known him. But your self doubt and your history of awful relationships is screaming at you that you don’t deserve him. You’re so lost in your thoughts that you don’t even realize that you’re crying. 

Yunho gently takes your plate from your hands, putting both his and yours back on the coffee table. He shifts his body slowly until he’s kneeling on the floor in front of you, resting his hands on your blanket-covered thighs.

“Y/n, look at me,” he pleads. You wipe the tears from your cheeks, patting the dampness into the blanket in your lap. You rest your hands on top of his, tracing the lines of his veins for a moment before dragging your gaze upwards to meet his. His eyes are glazed over with tears of his own. 

“Yunnie, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you, I–”

“Listen to me,” he interrupts. “You are the best thing that has ever happened to me. The most precious thing in this world to me. Each moment that I spend with you fills me with a joy that I never experienced until I met you.” He turns his hands over to cradle yours as his tears finally fall down his cheeks. “I love you. And I will spend every day of the rest of my life proving that to you. And proving to you that you deserve the love that I give you.” 

You stifle a sob at his words, trying to take all of it in as the beautiful truth. You know he means it, he’s always meant every word he’s ever said to you, and you know you need to silence your anxieties in favor of what you know to be true. 

“It’s gonna take time,” you whisper. “It’ll take time for me to believe that I deserve what you give me,” you wipe your own tears, then his, both of you laughing breathlessly at your own emotions. “But I will get there,” you continue, “I just need you to be patient with me.” 

“Of course. I will spend the rest of my life reminding you what you deserve, sweetheart. That’s a promise.” 

“I love you.” You cradle his head in your hands, memorizing every inch of his face, savoring the first day of the rest of your lives.

“I love you,” he kisses the tip of your nose. “Let’s go finish our breakfast in bed.” 

“Okay,” you giggle watching Yunho jump up to grab both your plates, giddily walking toward his bedroom with a wide smile on his face. 

“You coming?” He glances over his shoulder at you, his ears blushing bright red as he waits for you. 

You nod, hopping up to follow after him, to your new forever.

[evnseokz]

꒰ ☆ body worship ~ k.sn ꒱

pairing: sunoo x f.reader

contents: shy! sunoo, dom-ish reader! oral sex (m receiving), themes of body worship, kissing, i think that’s it

a.n: this idea has been sitting in my notes app for literally forever so i’m so glad i was finally able to execute it!

MINORS DNI

ʚ‎‏ ͜ ̩͙ ︵ ̩͙ ୨ ♡ ୧ ̩͙ ‏︵ ̩͙ ͜ ɞ

You had started noticing it a few weeks ago—little things at first. The way Sunoo’s sweaters seemed to fit a little snugger around his arms, the subtle definition peeking through whenever he rolled up his sleeves, the way he moved with just a bit more confidence. But today, it was impossible to ignore.

He had come over in a fitted t-shirt, something he never used to wear, and your jaw nearly dropped when you saw him standing in your doorway.

“Sunoo,” you said, dragging out his name as you gave him a once-over. “Have you been working out?”

Sunoo instantly stiffened, his hand twitching where it held his phone. “W-what?”

You stepped closer, your grin growing. “You have!” Without thinking, you reached out, lightly squeezing his bicep. “Oh my god, look at you! You’ve been bulking up!”

The moment your hand made contact, Sunoo let out the softest squeak and immediately jerked away, his entire face turning an alarming shade of red. “Yah! Don’t just—!” He flailed slightly, as if trying to put some space between you, but it was no use. You were already locked in.

“Why didn’t you tell me? You look amazing,” you continued, eyes practically sparkling as you took him in.

Sunoo groaned, covering his face with both hands. “Because I knew you’d do this,” he mumbled, voice muffled by his palms.

You laughed, reaching up to gently pry his hands away so you could see him properly. His ears were bright red now, the blush spreading all the way down his neck. It was adorable.

“You should’ve told me sooner,” you teased, giving his forearm a playful squeeze. “I would’ve hyped you up every step of the way.”

Sunoo bit his lip, looking like he was trying very hard to disappear into the floor. “It’s not that big of a deal…”

“It is a big deal! You’ve been working hard, and it shows,” you said, voice warm. “You’re seriously so handsome, Sunoo.”

At that, he let out a tiny, strangled sound and turned his face away, hands balled into fists at his sides. “You’re going to kill me,” he whined, clearly fighting the urge to sink into the floor in embarrassment.

You grinned, stepping closer until there was barely any space between you. “If you think this is bad, you should see how much I really like how you look.”

Sunoo turned back to you at that, eyes wide, his breath hitching slightly. “What do you—?”

You tilted your head, your voice dropping just slightly. “Want me to show you?”

Sunoo swallowed hard, his cheeks still flushed, but this time, he didn’t pull away.

Your lips met his, softly and slowly, testing the waters. His eyelids fall shut at the feeling, relaxing into you as you begin to move your lips against his.

He finds the rhythm quickly, melting into you. You pull back before it gets too heated, taking in the sight of the boy’s face in front of you.

“You’re so red right now,” you mused, tracing your fingertips up his arm, feeling the firm muscle underneath your touch. “and you look so good.”

Sunoo groaned at your compliment, his head falling forward. “You’re actually trying to kill me,” he whined.

You laughed softly, tucking your fingers under his chin to pull his head up to face you again.

“Don’t hide from me, Sunoo.” You cooed.

Sunoo nodded slowly, your hands finding his chest. You let your fingers press gently into him and then slowly trace down his abdomen.

His breath is caught in his throat, and he has lost all willpower to move. Just watching you have your way with him.

Your hands find the bottom of his shirt, fingers dipping under to feel his soft skin. He shivers at the feeling, your hands cold against his flushed skin.

You slowly drag his shirt up his torso, stopping at his chest, and hold it there. Your head dips down to where your lips hover over his toned stomach.

Sunoo can feel your breath hitting his skin, the feeling sending goosebumps through him.

Slowly, one by one, you place kisses down his abdomen, stopping right above the waist of his pants.

You take this opportunity to fully sink to your knees, looking up at him through your eyelashes. Sunoo almost cums right then and there. Suddenly beginning to squirm.

You place your hands on his firm thighs, squeezing slightly as you drag them up to his waistband. Sunoo lets out an almost pathetic sound once you’ve pulled his pants and underwear down, his cock springing out, the tip already leaking pre-cum.

You lick your lips at the sight, looking up at Sunoo again to catch the way his cheeks have gotten even redder.

“Y-y/n, this is embarrassing,” he whines.

“There's nothing embarrassing about how attractive you are,” you say back to him, lust dripping from your tone.

Your hand wraps around the base of his cock, causing Sunoo to jolt, every muscle in his body tightening. You pump him slowly, bringing your thumb up to swipe his slit, using his precum as lube.

Sunoo hisses at the feeling, his breathing staggered.

Finally, you bring your lips around his tip, tracing his slit with your tongue before slowly inching your mouth around his girth.

Sunoo is at a loss for words, small pants coming from his mouth while he throws his head back. You take your time with him, using his thighs for support. He can feel every ridge of your mouth, and it’s pushing him closer and closer to the edge with every bob of your head.

You bring your mouth back to his tip, paying attention to his slit again before taking him whole again. His cock is hitting the back of your throat as you take all of him in one go.

“I-I’m g-gonna-” Sunoo stutters.

And when one of your hands reaches to fondle his balls, that’s what sends him over the edge. His hips stutter in your mouth, him involuntarily fucking your throat to get through his high.

You don’t mind at all letting him milk himself dry with your mouth.

Once he stills, cock still twitching slightly in your mouth, you pull off of him with a pop. making sure he’s looking at you while you lick your lips clean and swallow his load. You smile up at him, his ears still burning with red. You start to get up, pulling his garments back up with you until you’re face to face with him again.

“Th-thank you,” he finally manages.

You giggle at his need to express gratitude for what you just did.

“There's more where that came from,” you said to him, before pulling him in for another kiss.

…

..

.

[bearforcecaptions]

I’m not sure where to begin. It still feels impossible, like a dream—a nightmare, really—that I can’t wake up from. We were just two people on the train, like always. Me and Jake. My boyfriend. My normal, clean-shaven, sarcastic, nerdy boyfriend. He was never the macho type. Tall, yes, but more lanky than anything, his face perpetually lit up with some goofy grin that could make me smile no matter what kind of day I was having. We were supposed to grab dinner that night, a little cheap Italian place downtown…but now I’m here, sitting alone, wondering if I’m the one losing my mind.

It started with the train slowing down, a flicker of the lights overhead as if the world had hiccupped for half a second. When the lights steadied again, Jake was slumped forward slightly in his seat, his shoulders heaving. At first, I thought maybe he was just tired, or feeling sick. I reached out to touch his arm.

“Jake? Hey, are you okay?”

His head bobbed slightly, like he was coming out of a deep sleep. He groaned, but the sound was low—too low, like the rumble of someone much larger. My stomach twisted uneasily.

Then it started.

His body…it moved. Shifted. Broadened. I didn’t even realize what I was seeing at first—my mind refused to understand it. His shoulders stretched wider under his coat, the seams of his shirt pulling tighter and tighter. I could hear the faint creak of the fabric as it struggled to keep up. His arms thickened, swelling with muscle that hadn’t been there moments before, and the soft shirt sleeves rode up as though they were shrinking. The shirt itself—a plain green tee when we got on the train—started darkening, shifting into plaid flannel. I watched, horrified, as buttons stitched themselves into place down the front, his clothes warping like liquid.

“Jake?” I said again, but my voice came out hoarse. My hands shook.

He groaned again, sitting up straighter, and as he did, I saw it—a beard. Thick and coarse, it spread across his face like time itself had been sped up, dark and impossibly full. I blinked, gripping my seat. It didn’t stop there. Hair curled at the edge of his chest—more and more of it—poking out through the suddenly gaping collar of the flannel as the fabric seemed to stretch open just to show it off. I couldn’t look away. It was like his very essence had been rewritten right in front of me.

“Jake!” I grabbed his arm, feeling the thickness of it. His skin was rough, his hand twice the size it had been. He looked up then, his eyes bleary, distant—like he was still waking up.

“Mmm…what?” he murmured. His voice was a deep, gravelly rumble. Not Jake’s voice. Not at all.

“What’s happening to you?” I whispered. I could barely hear myself over the blood pounding in my ears.

He turned his head toward me, his expression slack and confused. There was no recognition—not even confusion that I was there. He was just staring, like he didn’t know where he was. I felt tears sting my eyes.

“It’s me,” I said desperately. “It’s me! Jake, you know me! Please…”

I don’t know how long it was before the stranger appeared—maybe a few seconds, maybe longer. The sound of his voice snapped me out of it.

“Hey, big guy.”

I turned sharply, my head whipping around to see him—a man I’d never seen before. He was standing casually at the edge of the car, holding onto the pole with one hand. He wasn’t looking at me, though—his eyes were fixed on Jake. There was something familiar in the way he spoke, like he knew him. Like he was the only thing that mattered in this room.

Jake’s head tilted slightly. His brow furrowed. For a moment, I thought he was waking up.

“Jake, look at me,” I pleaded. “It’s me, your girlfriend. You remember me, right? You have to remember me!”

The stranger stepped closer. His tone was smooth, confident.

“Buddy, you all right? Who’s this chick?”

“Chick?” I said, my voice breaking. “What—no! I’m his girlfriend! Jake, tell him! Please!”

Jake looked at me then, blinking slowly, as if the word “girlfriend” had bounced around in his skull without meaning. His face—now so foreign, so wide and covered in that heavy beard—contorted into something almost pained.

“I don’t…” he muttered. His voice was quiet, thick.

The stranger stepped in, his smirk widening. He placed a hand on Jake’s broad shoulder, squeezing it like they were old friends.

“Come on, big guy. Don’t let her freak you out. We were just heading out, remember?”

Jake blinked again. And then…like a rubber band snapping into place, his whole demeanor changed. His face lit up—a broad, easy grin splitting through that heavy beard. He turned to the stranger, his expression so familiar and yet so alien.

“Yeah! Sorry, man. I don’t know what her deal is,” Jake said, his voice deep and rumbling with amusement now—confident. Sure.

“Jake!” I gasped. I grabbed his arm again, but he just shrugged me off like I was a stranger on the street. He stood up—towered over me now, his flannel pulling tight across a body that wasn’t his anymore.

The stranger laughed softly, almost sympathetically. “Look, lady, I think you need to sit down. You’re making a scene.”

Jake nodded, shooting me a look that wasn’t cruel, but…dismissive. Casual. Like I was no one at all.

“Yeah, just chill out, okay? We’re good here,” Jake said, clapping the stranger on the back. “Come on, babe. Let’s get out of here.”

“Babe,” I whispered, frozen.

The stranger smirked as he turned, leading Jake off the train. Jake followed without hesitation, without a single glance back at me. I stumbled after them, reaching the doors just as they slid closed, trapping me inside. I pounded on the glass, shouting, screaming for him—but he didn’t turn around.

I watched through the window as they walked together, laughing like nothing had happened, like nothing had changed. My Jake…gone. Replaced by someone I’d never know.

And the worst part? The way they looked at each other—so natural, so easy—like I was the one who didn’t belong.

[hollyhomburg]

@mocha000 I know I love Sope so much too!!! I’m so happy that their scene together hit the sweet spot- honestly doing research on the double penetration was one of the things that kind of held up this chapter- because it’s not actually something I’ve experienced lol and I wanted to see how other people usually write it before I wrote my own. I think I did a good job with it even though its overall a little short in the chapter

In my head, Namjoon has like really cute ways of referring to the pack in his head, just because he’s kind of hoping for the most sweet love for them, like Tae is taetae, Yoongi is yoonie, Jimin is always jiminie, namjoon is just! Cute you know? He might be big and buff and pack alpha but he’s also very very soft.  Like you said! He’s reliable!! Reliably soft for his pack <3

Ahhh yes jiminies giggle <3 I swear I watch too many of his giggle compilations! They’re a sweet spot for me whenever I’m feeling a little bit more sensitive than usual. Honestly I almost edited out the part where jimin is talking about the gun again- but I feel as though I may have forgotten the mafia aspects of this story a bit too quick???

Tbh I think the pack probably get Tae a water resistant notebook (they make them for geology things) just so that she can sort of leave it in the bathroom.

Honestly same, I need yoongi biblically. That little bit with noodle and him blinking slow was kind of a last minute add on. I like how he is just so down for whatever is gonna make the m/c happy, and then the double penetration starts to happen and he realizes he’s so aggressively into it that he almost comes too quick. (tbh I think it all takes them like- seconds to pop their knots because they’re just that in love.)

Tbh I wrote the m/c stimming with namjoon’s thighs because I think it would lowkey be the most comforting thing just to like? Stim with your partner?? Like appreciate the part of their body that’s like sensorily pleasing. With all of my partners in the past its been a different part of their body that has gotten the ‘yes good texture must touch for comfort’ treatment. I think that this stimming behavior in the m/c might have been something that she’s picked up a little from jungkook and jimin.

There is growth all around in this chapter- yoongi letting her be spanked without being triggered, the m/c learning to ask for what she wants, Tae showing the others her poem. I know that the bily pack sort of had this like- invincibility about them at the beginning of the story- but one of my favorite things is how flawed they actually where as a pack back then and how yoongi leaving and coming back brought all of those issues to the surface which where then sort of fixed by the m/c’s presence.  

Honestly, I almost made Hobi completely nude cooking in the kitchen but!! Decided that he should be wearing at least pants. But you’re right how you say that the beach holds a lot of meaning for them <3 I love it as a setting and as a metaphor for some of the conflict in the story.

Honestly I love that Hobi is just like- so into boobs like same bruh.

I love that yoongi’s always like- prepared to be dominant with her but it’s never his default, like- he’s such a good mate for her ugh, ready to take charge but also willing to indulge her every little whim. Need me a packmate like that tbh (I’m delusional)

Oooooh as for namjoon and yoongi next to each other, honestly I picture them sort of pushing each other for like purchase, like, namjoon definitely tries to palm between yoongi’s legs or make him pop a knot so that he moves, but then I also think that they probably get too preoccupied kissing each other and sort of kiss each other and her pussy at the same time. It probably finishes with namjoon licking into yoongi’s mouth because of the m/c’s slick.

Sometimes if you pay attention to it, Hoseok kinda talks in a lower register??? And it’s very like- asmr almost, that’s the kind of tone I picture him using when he says “oh you like it?” and teaseing like fuck you jus tknow that if he ever said that into your ear it would cause full body shivers.

I think namjoon calling Tae babygirl is lowkey so gender affirming for her like-every time he says it- when he’s giving her her injection, when he’s helping her get out of a car like a gentleman like- namjoon is very purposeful with it and probably knows, and it probably makes Tae fall a little more in love with him every time.

So happy that you loved this chapter even if it was a bit overwhelming! It the last bit of the heat though so hopefully the next chapter will all be fluff and happiness <3 we’re going to start touching on more of the part of the story that deals with their aftermath, specifically the m/c going back to school again and jimin and Tae's new jobs which I hope everyone will like/enjoy

Before I Leave You (Pt.81)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: Your heat is oh so close to breaking, but first, you need your whole pack even closer, but nothing seems close enough…

Tags: Heatsex, Dumbification kink, Dacryphilia, Crying during sex cuz its so good, overstimulation, fucking in omega space, mind break, Double penetration, Two Knots one hole, sope x reader, settling spanking, dumbification, lactation kink, omegan milk and talks of triggered ruts, breeding kink, implied/referenced somnophilia, rough sex, squirting, Subspace, dom! Namjoon, Dom! Seojin, jin refers to himself as daddy exactly one time, size kink, seokjin calls the m/c a slut but it's loving, overstimulation, voyeurism, Holecheck, fluff, Comfort no hurt,

W/c: 11.8k

A/n: wow last heat chapter!!! honestly i did not anticipate this taking so fucking long and for that i'm sorry (i'm not sorry at all).

Previous part - Masterlist - First part

The truth is heats aren’t all just fucking and getting fucked. Slick and knots, Alpha’s and Omega’s. Hierarchy and settling. There are also some sweet moments that exist independent of its raging and hunger. Moments of domestic bliss that find you like a shot of sunlight during a rainstorm:

The thrum of instinct is heavy, like an anchor pulling Namjoon up from sleep. His consciousness bubbles up from somewhere in between a very very happy dream involving the pack and a can of whipped cream and a feeling like he vaguely should eat something.

The first thing he registers is that he can taste cream on the back of his throat. Probably Jin's slick. And the second thing is that there is someone- an omega moving around the nest.

A bad thing, a thing that his instincts, primed and ready to protect, are all loud over.

Jinnie is pillowed on his chest, hole slick and open around Namjoon's knot, resting just inside the comforting familiar warmth. Knot warming to soothe his pack omega who had been quite distressed when he woke last and was unfilled. But Namjoon has fixed that. Good, Namjoon is doing a good job, of keeping his mate and packmates happy.

But that is Neither insistent nor very important at the moment as Namjoon subtly shifts the omega closer to him. Going into guarding mode, on alert the second he wakes. Eyes flicking from the window to the door, a growl already building to ward off potential predators.

But there are none here in the quiet room, nothing besides the cool blue light of the moon slipping through the window. Jin nuzzles into his neck, whining low at the sudden burst of angry alpha on the air.

Namjoon’s arms tighten at the sound of movement. Thumb rubbing at the dimple of Jin’s spine. But when he looks- eyes flinty in the darkness- it’s just you.

He watches as you move, instantly fully awake, waiting and seeing if you'll trudge too close to the edge of the nest and if you'll need him to manhandle you (albeit gently) back into your place among the other soft and sleeping pups here. Safe, where you belong, where you should be sprawled and ready to take any of the sensual delights that Namjoon's alphas have in store for you.

Namjoon is patient, like a cat watching a mouse, waiting to see if you like Jinnie earlier, need to be caught.

Namjoon hadn’t let the pack omega fuss over the food for too long without herding him back inside the nest. The distance between Jin and its safe walls is the mental equivalent of nails on a chalkboard. Namjoon had all but nipped Jin at the scruff- something that the pack omega only sometimes allows. But if Namjoon feels the need to get all his omega’s safe and in one spot then Jin feels it tenfold.

It's a good thing that they both get each other like this. Namjoon will never take it for granted, and will never not marvel over his soulmate.

Namjoon scans the nest, counting bodies and measuring breaths. Every pup is where they should be, snug and sated. Well, almost every pup. But Namjoon is inclined to watch and wait and see if you come to him.

Your cheeks are round looking, eyes barely open, blinking blearily, wearing only a large dark t-shirt- because you complained that the nudity was bothering you earlier. It was an easily fulfilled request although the alpha’s might have bickered a little bit over whose shirt you wore. Jimin had won out and you smell like him, like vanilla and alpha musk.

Although that might be due to the state of the shirt. The black shirt you wear is crisscrossed a little grossly with near-translucent evidence of Jimin's cum and your and Jk’s rubbing. But messiness and a lack of hygiene kind of goes hand in hand with heat and maybe he'll remember to think it's gross tomorrow.

But now Namjoon breathes in deep a barely there warning growl on the exhale, luxuriating in the scent of all of you combined- in more ways than just the shirt indicates. Even from here, he can smell how bred you are. The underlying sated current to your scent tells him he's done his job and done it well.

For a moment Namjoon lets himself imagine that he's actually pupped you (all three of you at once, but who’s really measuring Namjoon’s fantasy here) and that soon you'll start to swell and sweeten. You'll be as adorably dependent on them as you are in omega space all the time. The fantasy is so heavenly that Namjoon’s eyelids begin to grow heavy.

Jin is going to absolutely go to town with you and Jungkook later. God, Namjoon would kill for a shower. Maybe in the morning when he's not so tired.

Namjoon watches, mouth dry and knot sore. Namjoon is just detangling his thoughts enough to try and ask you if you need another breeding or perhaps growl at you in warning, when you get to where Yoongi’s slumped. Knees to the side, body half propped up in a mess of pillows.

His pj’s are pulled low, the same flannel ones that Yoongi always likes but that Jungkook complains feels too scratchy. But you don’t seem to mind, immediately snuggling down into your mate. Your legs and Yoongi’s legs immediately tangling.

Namjoon has never asked what it feels like- your mating mark, beyond the barest scientific-driven questions. But sometimes he wonders- is Yoongi your north star? Is he the taste on the back of your throat? The face you see behind your eyelids as you dream.

Namjoon’s hands tighten around Jin’s body instinctively. He's been looking at the pack omega's throat a lot more this heat, appreciating the musculature, the vein that Namjoon can see pulsating. They've been together now for what- 6 years? Almost 7? How much longer should they wait?

Yoongi wakes when you fall into his arms. A little thump, A little oof. Namjoon hears it from across the nest. In the quiet soft hum of dreaming bodies, Jungkook’s soft snoring and puppy twitches make a blanket rustle.

Yoongi doesn’t look upset at being woken up so abruptly, blinking as you duck low and nuzzle into his jaw, whining softly. Needy. Lying your body weight over him and instantly limp.

Namjoon's instincts resettle themselves.

“Hey little honey,” he says softly followed immidatly by something barely intelligible. Brushing your tangled hair back from your face, ducking low to bump his nose against yours before he kisses you, soft and slow deep.

Namjoon hums, pleased.

You only squirm in reply, shuffling closer to Yoongi, like just getting your body next to his isn’t enough. Isn’t close enough for your mate. Namjoon feels his heart pang.

"Did you need it? Do you want it?” He trails off, and Yoongi’s flush is a little noticeable even if the half-darkness. You just shake your head. Namjoon can tell by the way your cheeks, look- flushed but not sweaty- that this isn’t another spike of heat.

This is just you; this is just you needing to be close to Yoongi. Namjoon’s mouth goes a little dry and he doesn’t speak, doesn’t say a word for fear of interrupting you.

Words have been hard for you in heat, more often than not communicating with one-word answers or a shake of your head, but you scrape together your words for Yoongi now. “Just cuddle? Just wanted to cuddle with you.”

Yoongi hums deep and gravely. And opens his arms, pealing back his covers because with you there- he won’t need a blanket, burning hot as you are. You settle in around him. Hitching a leg over his hip that Yoongi adjusts pulling you closer.

You press your face to Yoongi’s throat and Namjoon sees him swallow. Sees your mate wrap his arms around you, hand skimming up and down your back, endless trails until you fall asleep. He thinks Yoongi might whisper something to you in the darkness.

After counting the bodies once again. Namjoon tucks Jin's head back under his chin and shuts his eyes. Listening for seven heartbeats beating in rhythm before his instincts let him rest.

The pack all need it after the heat, Namjoon thinks it must be close to ending now, but it’s hard to tell for sure.  

~-~

There are other soft moments too, as the spikes between your heat truly start to petter off later that evening. It's not over yet, but it's getting there. When you're lucid enough to speak, you and Jungkook complain that your bodies feel awful.

The stickiness between your legs, the dewy space under your breasts (that Hobi is kind of obsessed with nuzzling into but whatever, boobs are great, you're obsessed with tae's and he's obsessed with yours, you can both be casual about it), and the other countless little messes that you and the other omegas have made on them and the nest.

The last layer gets peeled back after the alphas detangle you from the nest one by one whisking you away upstairs to deal with some of that mess. Revealing a clean layer of nest below. The nest is not nearly as plush as it was at the start of the heat. Too many soiled blankets have been removed and too many rutted against pillows have been judged too dirty to sleep against.

Your heat fever quiets just before you get into the bath and Jimin turns you knotted and sleepy. Reclining against Tae's chest while Yoongi gets wet up to his upper arm. Teasing Jimin for turning lazy after a knot. But it’s all false and fondly put upon. Yoongi doesn’t mind washing your hair and Jimin’s. Both of you are sudsy, enjoying Jin’s nice-smelling shampoo that leaves both of you speckled with pink bubbles. Sighing and purring at every lingering rub.

You nuzzle into the crook of Jimin's elbow. Seeking out something intangible. Jimin smells so good. Musky alpha, happy alpha, your alpha. He laughs, a high-pitched sweet sound. It sounds so good against the tall ceilings. echoic, nearly melodic.

Yoongi is very very careful to rub behind your ears. Firm fingers massaging out the knots in your neck until you’re turning limp against Jimin’s front. In this position, Tae can poke and prod and count the freckles on your back.

“You know, if you connect all of these, they sort of look like a bunny,”

Yoongi peaks over your shoulder, “or a frowny face.” You whine, and your mate changes his tune, “Definitely a bunny.” He pecks your forehead and your eyelashes flutter.

"My perfect bunny, so good after your first heat with us. You just have to be like that- you just have to let us take care of you. Can you do that for me huh? Can you be good for us?" Yoongi says it as if he can hardly believe it. 'First heat' is said with such a reverence that it makes you just a little more lucid.

Tae goes quiet, in the way that she does when you know she’s thinking through something- some aspect of her story or a poem, a particular way to word things. And things are calm enough that Jimin can answer her sleepy request for a bit of paper and a pen.

"Minnie. If you’ve got a moment."

Jimin gets up and out of the tub. Disappearing from your front after he drapes you over the side of the deep tub. The porcelain is deliciously cool against your front compared to the hot water. Should you respond to Yoongi? Do you need to?

He prods at your mouth, and you open obediently, eyes closed. Happy to taste- water? Electrolyte? He guides you to sip and you do. Barely conscious as he rubs the water from your lips with a thumb, chiding you gently for being messy.

If Jin were awake, he’d be sudsing up your hair and using some of Tae's expensive leave-in conditioner, he’d section and detangle each strand with a gentle tug. He would use the sugar scrub and then the body wash and then lather you down with body oil leaving your skin shiny and hydrated.

If Jin were awake and it was time for a good grooming session the pack omega would catalog each of the bruises on your body and dispense a pea-sized amount of the soothing cream that he always uses. The bite marks on your neck might need something a little more heavy duty. Jimin has been a little more nibbly than usual.

Jimin pauses before getting back into the tub, staring down at you and Tae for a moment, taking a second to appreciate the vision you paint. Both of his girls in the bath together. Everything slow and comforting and normal.

It's so normal here. Between you four. Tae, Jimin, Yoongi, You.

There are no lurking thoughts or anxiety over hidden things. No secrets- delightful or scary, lingering on the edge of Jimin’s mind. When he looks down at his hands they are not blood-stained or holding a gun.

He just has the pen and paper for Tae, a sheet of paper ripped out of the notebook she keeps next to the nest upstairs. The journal exists only for scrawling and mumbling through Tae's jumbled thoughts, not sacred like the ones downstairs that only see a finished product. Jimin didn’t think Tae would want to risk dropping her whole notebook into the bathtub.

Yoongi takes a big dollop of suds and pops it onto the end of your nose, you go cross-eyed trying to look at it, pouting. Jimin can't help his smile.

Tae's chestnut hair is half a wreck but she’s still the most beautiful thing Jimin’s ever seen. (This is not to be confused with jimin putting you in some sort of hierarchy- you firmly hold the spot as the cutest thing that Jimin’s ever seen. He uses a different word to describe each of the pack this way. Jimin has no second favorites or best favorites).

Jimin’s cheeks look a little…moisturized probably from all the time that he’s spent buried between your thighs during this heat. His skin glows. Radiant. Although heats usually leave the alphas looking a little bit ragged and worn out that hasn’t been the case with this heat.

All of them prowl about like predators turned fat and lazy from domestication. Sleepy but not exhausted. Worn but not at the end of their ropes. Instincts a heavyweight that sings like a low drone. White noise. Like the mental equivalent of a weighted blanket.

Even for Jimin who usually gets out of heats so on edge from all the hormones, usually so worn down by the end that his skin turns hypersensitive and his words get chopped and simple. Overstimulated, that's the word for it.

But not now, there’s not an ounce of tension in Jimin’s body as he watches you and Tae in the bath. He watches Tae wipe a bit of soap from your cheek and Yoongi shields your eyes from the water as he rinses out your hair. Your purring ripples out into the open air, deep and luscious like velvet. When Jimin looks down at his arms- there are goosebumps there.

Yoongi looks up at Jimin, still bare, still dripping water onto the floor, and smiles. Jimin can’t fight his flush.

It's probably your slick and milk that has Jimin feeling so tamed. Probably.

Jimin always has time for you and Tae. That’s sort of one of his rules; that he will prioritize you no matter what he’s doing. That even when things are bad or scary or you’re in heat he will make time to indulge you both. Indulging you both is what Jimin lives for.

(How lovely it might be to be loved that way, a simple concession but not one that is given easily. I’ve been writing this story for so long that I’ve forgotten how people fall in love. Could it be like this? I want it to be like this).

Jimin returns to the tub and bundles you back against his chest, his feet nudging against Tae's knees as he gets comfy in the hot water. Tae stretches and turns her body to reach for a towel, wiping her hands to dry them so she can grab the paper. Yoongi continues to wash you smiling down at your fingers limply curled into a fist, taking a brush to them and the dirt under your nails. Jimin’s arms loosely wrap around your back to keep you in place.

You roll onto your tummy or try to. You're awfully wiggly and sleepy like this. it's almost like you're trying to nest in the water.

"No no no pup, you can't present here." You pout at that. The ball of Jimin's knee rests against your stomach. On your belly- you have to get onto your belly.

Water sloshes against your face, Yoongi's hand goes harder, more dominant, threading through your hair and holding your head up. "Pup, you cannot breathe underwater."

You grumble like you wish they'd let you try, but stay put when Yoongi picks you up and rests you across Jimin's lap. Half draped over Tae, half over Jimin. Utterly boneless.

It isn’t the first time Tae has used your bare back as a rest for her notebook. The feeling of the paper against your bare skin is comforting and familiar. Her non-dominant hand tickles over your shoulder as you doze, not fully asleep lazing in the water.

Yoongi leans his cheek against the ball of Tae's shoulder, nuzzling briefly. He peeks over her shoulder as she writes and scrawls and she tilts the paper so that he can see better.

Occasionally hands grip under your arms, readjusting so that you don’t actually drown as you sort of fall asleep. You’re so tired, a bone-deep exhaustion that cannot be roused.

And it's so warm, the places where they touch you blend and move, sudsy and slippery.

Your face gets gently washed, gentle fingers in smooth circles and when Yoongi tilts your chin, you notice that his fingers have already gone pruny from how they’ve sudsed you up between your legs to your knees, every inch of you clean. Even the hem of his pushed-up sleeves are damp.

When she’s done with her little poem, Tae recites it for you three. The steam turns the air hazy. It sort of feels like a love letter that turns into a poem. You’re distantly aware of it as always, that this poem is about you.

But then again most of the time when Tae writes it’s about you. (Jimin too, but mostly- you).

You think when she finally lets you read her book you’re going to see little bits of your love story in between the pages. You’ll notice flashes of you and things that are references to the way that you love her. Sweet reminders that you are loved and treasured just as dearly as one of Tae's characters. That you live in her head just like they do.

8 months ago she would have never shared a poem with any of them so soon after it popped into her head. She’d at least have edited it a little and let the words linger for a day or two. Tae's words used to be kept under lock and key. But you have made Tae into someone brave now. She is not so scared of showing the delicate parts of her. You curl your hand around her thigh in response. Cheek resting on her knee as you listen to her voice. 

“I long to be careless with my heart, to not know what it feels like when it burns. To give it thoughtlessly again, so that I might prolong those firsts with you."

There is a lump in her throat, you can hear it as she says the words. it makes them come out hushed like she is close to crying. The ending of these firsts has never bothered you. First kiss, first date, first heat. All crossed off a list. Maybe when you're more lucid you'll tell her you can play pretend and go on as many first dates as you need to to get it right. Until she stops feeling this way.

"As the firsts become fewer and fewer, I find myself pausing, making it last, savoring it.” You rub your cheek into Tae's knee, and Yoongi’s hand runs through your hair, then Tae's.

“A bite, a blush, a secret shared.” Jimin’s hand lingers around the curve of your shoulder, holding you out of the water.

“The love on the blankets, your kiss ruddy on my hands. The feeling of your knees between my knees, Your heart and other banquets. we feast upon the plenty. Pomegranates. Figs. Milk. Honey.”

Tae's hand thumbs over your lip, and when you look up at her you find her watching you. Reading off the words without looking at the paper, like she’s already committed it to memory.

“A first meal or last like any other. Regardless, I eat.”

~-~

With a little bit of prodding and a bit of encouragement, Hoseok gets quite confident towards the end of your heat.

It's either from your moans or the increasing vulnerability and laconicness of your body. Nothing makes an alpha doting and possessive like a vulnerable little omega. One fucked quiet and soft. Completely pliant and boneless in the nest, unable even to reach for them as your body gets softer and softer with heat.

The fever rages through your body, turning you docile and out of it. Even when your packmates try to prop you up for a bite to eat, a bit of water, or a wipe to your face- you cannot seem to hold yourself up. Body limp, bones like Jello. Eyelashes fluttering and whining. Fucked so good that you can hardly open your eyes.

You whine through the overstimulation of another orgasm. But your hands feel so heavy you can't even push their hands or faces away when it gets to be too much. You are truly fucked up. Truly gone from all their attention.

Like with most omega's, your heat gets very very bad before it breaks. An increasing spike that foretells the ending. Nothing is enough, not even overstimulation makes your heat fever quiet.

Both Yoongi and Namjoon bury their faces between your thighs. Cheek to cheek, finger fucking more slick out of you that they lap up eagerly. And you cum until your toes can't even curl. Until your clit twitches, sucked pink and puffy, and you can't even squirt anymore.

Sweat beads at your temple and your body begins to tremble. And Hoseok can tell from the pinch in Namjoon’s face and the slightly stressed sour note in his scent, that things are not good. That the pack alpha is worried- more worried than usual.

But Namjoon has a lot to balance, between Jin sleeping through the night on the other side of the nest and measuring his other half’s breaths. deep and gentle, counting the minutes until he wakes. And Jungkook who seems to have stolen your energy and all but needs to be dragged back from the edge of the nest at every available opportunity.

He squirms, making a game out of it. A game that Tae and Jimin do not enjoy in the slightest. “Kookie don’t-“ “I swear to god if you bite me again I’ll-“ “behave omega”

But their threats land on deaf ears. Jungkook just giggles and rolls away. Leaving their muscles straining, arms bulging as they hold him down by the wrists as the omega rolls, mouth open, teeth bared. But Jungkook always did like to be held down when fucked, restrained, and made to take it until that feisty edge in him is dulled into something docile.

But you? You continue to cry.  

You just can't recognize what it is you need, frustrated, endlessly frustrated. Maybe you got a taste of it when they realized you were leaking milk; all of them close, all of them around you. You want that back now. Your packmates under your teeth. You need all of them, right now.

Or at least more than one. Yoongi and Namjoon between your legs was half of it but they didn't touch the ache in you. The burning need to be full. To feel full.

One knot just won’t due.

Luckily, Namjoon has prepared you well for it.

Your tits are bitten and puffy looking. They'd spent several hours draining you dry. You barely have a few drops when Hobi leans down to check (to make sure really- he’s not behaving like a milk-drunk pup- he swears). You only sigh gently at the closeness, his hair brushing your skin, nuzzling into his hairline as his mouth goes where you’re tender, a few mouthfuls, the sound of gulping and Hobi.

Hobi. You cling to him and whine when he moves away. Distantly through the dripping and the trembling you’re aware that he’s trying to say something to you. He sighs when you stay silent, hand listlessly tangling in the nest. Needy for something you can’t say, words that just won’t come to your lips.

You want that closeness back, You want them near again- you just can't figure out how to say it.

The first thing that indicates you're nearing the end of your heat is the tears; constantly your eyes are glassy and your scent is sour no matter how many times you cum. You're sniffly pressed to Tae's shoulders while Jungkook latches. Little tears on your cheeks while Yoongi knots you.

Every single moment you're awake, you're weepy. No matter how many times the pack tries and soothe you; you are wet-eyed and sniffly. Broken somehow.

“You don’t want us to stop fucking you right?” Namjoon asks after you cry and whimper through another knotting. Relieved when you shake your head almost angrily, eyebrows pinching together like you're angry he even suggested it. Tears threaten to spill as you lock your ankles around Namjoon’s back, pushing all of you closer to him, Your stomach brushes his. The dewiness is faintly gross but faintly hot too.

"Alright pup, don't worry, no one is gonna take me from you." Namjoon means it. Even if you probably won't remember it later. His hand settles on the back of your neck and guides your face to his scent gland. He's not surprised that you bite down, the sigh slips from his lips and his thumbs rub and roll your scruff to soothe you. “Ah pup, alpha isn’t going anywhere.”

They try not to let it affect them, how you cry.

Crying can be hot sometimes, making a sub cry because they’re feeling too good well. Jimin might give you exactly that demonstration when he mounts Jungkook, finally turning the other omega docile under the weight of his knot. The dominance in the air like a fire threatening to spark.

But you remain bundled from Jinnie’s chest to Namjoon’s, to Yoongi’s, “I’ll take her.” he says. An edge to his voice that Namjoon might not have taken as a threat to his dominance before Yoongi had a knot.

Namjoon clenches his teeth. Everyone is a bit on edge with you crying.

“Can you tell us why you’re crying little pup? Does something hurt? Are you achy here?” Jin very very gently cups your chest. You're sat half sideways in Yoongi’s lap, peaking out at the pack omega from Yoongi’s neck, shaking your head slightly. Jin’s hands move south. thumb rubbing up and down the chub of your thigh.

During any other post-heat Jin would be sleeping soundly through most of the following day, but not now, not with you like this.

Jin's hair is so tangled it nearly stands up straight, his cheeks are so puffy and his lips are so swollen from kissing and biting that they look a bit like a beak. But besides the fact that his body just won't stop slicking up- Jin's fine. His skin is no longer flushed, he can blink back the last little bit of haze and consider himself ludic. His heat is over. fucking finally.

So when he wakes to find you crying, he doesn't hesitate to help, to slip his hands between your thighs. “How about here? Does this hurt? Is that why you're crying? Did we break your little hole?”

You tremble a little bit as he strokes, finger pads rubbing in what he hopes is soothing circles. But when he stills you shake your head and Jin sighs, removing his hand from you with a barely there cobweb of slick that Namjoon almost immediately eyes.

You tuck your face back into Yoongi’s throat, sniffling renewed as he moves away from you to say something quietly to Namjoon, your mate's throat vibrates against your cheek as he speaks but you can't make sense of the words.

"Joon, don't be gross."

"Sorry." Namjoon doesn't sound sorry at all.

Some of the alphas like it a little bit too much. The crying. Jimin laps at your cheeks and teases you for it, calling you a soggy little puppy. Everything, tears, milk, slick. All wet and messy for them. Stretched to your breaking point. All burned up.

But Yoongi is more gentle, more routine, slower and sweeter. It's late at night when they finally figure out what you need. The lamp in the corner is on and your body is shrouded in shadow. Sweaty and achy.

You’re no longer able to move so much, so exhausted that you need your packmates due to every little thing for you. You need Jimin to guide bites to your lips and need Namjoon to brush your teeth when it comes time for bed. Mouth open and eyes closed, so trusting as Namjoon tilts your head and praises you. 

You're wearing pj's, little pajama shorts pushed to the side, a button-down shirt in front that has most of the buttons undone. It makes you feel so much better, being taken care of like this. But still. You cry.

And you need Yoongi like you need blankets, warmth, he'd offered to fuck you to sleep and you'd nodded your scent. And now Yoongi is trying really- he's doing his best.

But still, you can't seem to stop crying. He presses his cheek along yours crouched low so that your bodies touch everywhere. Your heartbeat next to his heartbeat. Your cheek against his cheek as his hips move in small little circles. His knot is just barely starting to grow sensitive and taught. That new feeling that Yoongi is starting to recognize as a warning.

You’re warm all the way to your temple. Yoongi has realized that it’s more the emotion that’s making you cry and less his dick, but still-

He juts his hip forward, working his knot into you. And you sniffle against his throat.

Yoongi finds it hard to remain undistracted with you crying. Maybe that’s just because your crying is the exact opposite of a turn-on for him. Yoongi’s lips glide across your forehead, feeling something like an apology. He stops thrusting and instead rests inside of you, warm and wet and tight.

You tremble. Hands brought up to your chest like you need to hide your heart from him. Yoongi tries not to be hurt by that. Yoongi rests his forehead against yours and nearby Namjoon perks up a little, watching and waiting.

Yoongi wishes Namjoon would just rest.

“Little honey, will you tell me what’s wrong? What’s going on in that fuzzy head of yours huh? You can tell me.”

You tip your chin down, voice oh so quiet, oh so fragile when you finally speak. “Won’t be angry?”

“Not gonna be angry. Promise.”

You glance sidelong, not at Namjoon, but to where Hoseok is eating a late dinner, trying not to look like he’s watching (He was definitely watching.) But Jin has an arm wrapped loosely around his waist, a little possessive, a little protective. But Yoongi knows that like you Hobi likes a physical reminder to stay put and rest, a reminder that he’s exactly where he’s wanted at the pack omega’s side.

“Wan' Hobi alpha.”

Yoongi kisses your brow, never one to be hurt over you choosing someone else. Your tears are more important than his ego and what his mate wants in heat is infinitely more prescient than his newfound knot and the needs that come with it. But you whimper, clinging to him as he starts to pull out. Tears once again build at the edge of your eyes and threaten to spill.

“No! Don’t go!”

“Honey, I don’t understand, you can’t have both of us at once…” Yoongi trails off as you sniffle.

"Want both!" You cry, petulant. Yoongi looks up making eye contact with Hobi (flushing desperately) and then Jin (looking curious and sort of impressed at your level of bratting. Any other day talking like that would get you drawn over either Jin or Namjoon's lap for a spanking).

There is a single moment where everyone waits. Jin’s eyebrows go from raised into his hairline to down, staring at you like you’re going to send Jin into heat again. Can one omega even trigger another’s heat? If they could, you would certainly trigger Jin’s.

Jin has that dark look in his eye that Yoongi has learned to be a little bit afraid of. The same kind of look he gets when Jungkook asks to be have his hole slapped. When Jimin asks to be pushed around. When Namjoon asks for his collar. A dangerous look.

The pack omega is in post heat, he's not supposed to be doing any of the helping and yet- Jin shuffles over to where you and Yoongi recline in the nest.

You can't possibly be asking for that. For two knots at once. You’ve never broached that kind of play; anal, with Yoongi. and he thinks this is hardly the time to do it when you’re already not communicating well- when you’re in Omegaspace and even the slightest hurts and aches can feel mountains high. You are so sensitive when you are like this, in heat and in Omegaspace.

And yet you reach down, palming blindly where you and yoongi meet. "Want Hobi here, want both please? Good pup?"

You can't possibly understand what you're asking for. It's too dangerous. Stretching you out like that. You couldn’t possibly take two knots in one hole, right?

Only, could you?

You’d taken Namjoon barely an hour ago, and the pack alpha had slid in like it was nothing, fucking a fresh wave of slick and a few dribbles of squirt out of you. Knot tugging at your entrance until Yoongi could see where you went pink. You’re… stretched a little, dilated, fucked open enough to take Namjoon’s cock, usually a gargantuan task but-

You’d half slept through the last time he’d knotted you. namjoon is at least twice as thick as yoongi, and hobi is only a little bit girthier. yoongi's knot would be small if he was an alpha. hobi's always been average.

But togeather... could they fit?

It’s Jin who checks, shuffling up to get behind you. Sneaking his hand first under the hem of your shirt to stroke at your hip lovingly, and then down the edge. Lower. Yoongi doesn’t slip out, and you continue to nuzzle into the column of his throat, sniffling.

“Wan Hobi, want- hng.”

Jin’s fingers prod, and it’s almost exactly how Namjoon guided Hobi earlier only it’s Jin doing it this time, all snug up behind Yoongi. He smells like heat and like alpha cum, like he’s been bred himself. It’s doing things to Yoongi’s self-control, that new tight edge to fucking. Being surrounded by two omega’s in heat, sandwiched between them.

“Calm down babypup, you’ll have your Hobi, just give us a moment.”

Jin is tired but lucid. Pretty soon he’ll cajole one of the alphas into letting him sneak upstairs for another bath. Jin can only handle the tacky feeling of slickness between his legs for so long. But the prospect of re-grooming himself alone after a heat doesn’t appeal to him nearly as much as making sure you and Jungkook are tended to.

It can’t be much longer now, there can’t be too much more to your heats, maybe another 6 or so hours. You're both so tired, and the alphas are too. Jimin is sleeping barely a few feet away, heaping over a clean pink and purple checkered blanket. His generously sculpted ass shows two neat little rings, teeth marks.

He rubs slowly at where your entrance parts are around Yoongi’s cock and then more insistently until you let him in. He has to use a bit of force but it’s easy. His fingers slide in next to Yoongi’s cock.

You hiccup and cry, this time because it's good, it's exactly what you've needed and Jin doesn't stop.

Namjoon has done a good job of fucking you open and sloppy. You quiver but stretch easily. Jin’s second finger goes in with little more than a hiccup, his third too, almost holding around Yoongi’s cock, making the stretch tighter. Your trembling increases when Jin turns his wrist over to press up against your spongy g-spot. And Seokjin watches your clit twitch in response and you cry out.

One day, one day soon he’s going to test how much that little nub can take, it going to make you cum until you can’t even squirt anymore. You can hardly handle this with more than a dribble now. Just a drop or two that hits Jin's wrist in a slight brush of warmth.

You pull your knees up to your chest obediently, and Yoongi holds you under your knees. Jin grabs one of your ankles to keep you still, to keep you from squirming for more fingers.

There you go, stretched again, more. You want more. Two packmates close and your instincts tell you that's good. Your instincts start to recede just slightly. Not enough but getting there.

Jin’s cock twitches, still soft.

Hobi lounges not far away, his chest dotted with bite marks and pretty marks, bruised looking in the shadow, sharp eyes watching him. Hobi's eyes close slightly. But stay open. The eye contact he makes with Jin is tentative at first, but Hobi doesn’t blink or look away first, he doesn’t back down.  

Perfect.

Jin’s teeth ache, Hoseok shies away from Jin’s becoming hand but not for long. Namjoon has been watching the whole time while reclining, looking big and protective. Watching Jinnie do his work as pack omega with a domineering glint in his eyes that Jin almost wants to purr at.

He watches Jin with heavy-lidded eyes an apex predator full and happy letting his prey walk close without hunting. Jutting his chin as if to say “Go on, give me a show.” 

Jin fits three fingers into your hole next to Yoongi’s cock, each trust earning him a whimper before he pops them out and lands a spank over your clit, both you and Yoongi jump. Jin’s hand comes away wet.

Jin has Hobi by the back of his neck, quicker than he can think to reign in his instincts. There is no squirming or pleas for justification. Hoseok just tips his throat and lets Jin sniff at it, snuffling up and down his throat.

“She wants you Hobi puppy, don’t you want to feel Yoongi’s knot my sweet pup?” Hobi blushes but relents, letting Jin guide him closer.

Earlier, pillowed in the nest after knotting, you’d watched your mate and Hobi. Watched as Hobi got down to look, whispering quiet and fond words with his hands wrapped around yoongi's knot. You'd watched Hobi's long hand's birdlike drift down Yoongi's chest to go between his legs.

Yoongi had let the other alpha explore him until he'd gone taught and sagged. "Ah really- fuck"

"Like this, it feels good when it's like this. wrap your hand around your knot like this and tug-"

His touch is both experimental and familiar. You'd watched them press their knots together, glossy with omega slick, rutting and rubbing and laughing.

And now you’ll get to have both, both at the same time. You chirp, needy, bratty. You don't want to be denied it for another moment.

You squirm, Hands opening and closing in the nest. Looking up at them, Hobi's eyes are dark with such an unabashed show of wanting that behind you, Yoongi sort of laughs, a pitch too high. A little unhinged. A little pussy drunk.

Hoseok is beginning to get back his confidence, the frantic fear of the heat wearing away. It always goes this way; Hoseok is always just thinking he’s finally adjusted to all the scents when the heat ends.

Jin’s job is done now, and he shuffles across the nest until he’s near Namjoon, flopping onto his side so that he gets to be the little spoon. The pack alpha instantly ropes an arm around his waist and pulls him in, close. Nosing along the side of Jin's face.

Yoongi guides you to lie on your side so that he can spoon you and Hoseok can be at your front through this. It reminds you a bit of how you and Hoseok first fucked, blankets all around, warm through it, your leg hitches up around Hobi's waist. Urging him closer.

You're still wearing your shorts and your pajama top, and your top at least- gets easily unbuttoned. Yoongi gets frustrated with the bottoms and with a brief tear- Hobi grips one side and Yoongi the other. Your bottoms truly fall away in tatters.

You make eye contact with Hobi and for a second, he swears you get more lucid, reaching out your hand. His breathing calms. Had it been ragged? Hobi hadn’t noticed.

Yoongi slows his pace from behind you. Hobi’s voice sounds rough even to his own ears. “You really need it huh?”  

You whimper and nod, looking up at him still weepy. Yoongi coos and wipes your tears away. You hardly seem to notice. "Please only if-" you moan, and Yoongi shoots Hoseok a winning grin, still working behind you. Starting up his pace again. He doesn’t pull out all the way but pushes in a bit deeper. grinding against the spongey sofness, the place that namjoon reaches and fucks, turned sensitive from so many knottings.

"Only if you-" Yoongi doesn't let you continue, hitching up your hip showing Hobi where both of you meet. Showing Hobi how he’s fucking you.

Hoseok shuffles close as if it's even a question of whether he wants this still. You should be able to tell by his scent alone. His eyes stay locked to the space that Yoongi has made in you. You and Yoongi, his best friend and his sort of soulmate.

Hoseok’s knees brush Yoongi’s and your feet press to his stomach until he takes you by the ankles and puts your legs on either side of him. Fumbling to get his cock out, to kiss the inside of your knee as he looks down, muscles straining biting his lip. It's frantic but it's loving all of it.

Hoseok watches you as he guides his cock close.

Yoongi feels velvety and soaked against Hoseok’s head. Wet and slick and so fucking hot to press up into that seam where you close around him. The head of Hobi’s cock nudges against Yoongi’s knot before he starts to press inside.

Hoseok is dimly aware of Yoongi inhaling jagged, pressing you just a little closer against him. Your head falls back against Yoongi’s shoulder, mouth open, hand suddenly fisting in Hobi's red t-shirt, not pushing him away, pulling him closer.

“Oh, do you like it?” He teases. The way that only Hobi can. Teasing you for how much you want it, how much you need both him and your mate in one hole. he's going to tease you so much for this later- you already know it.

It takes some pressing, some force behind it, and you stop squirming, going rigid. Mouth going wide in an overwhelmed 'oh' without a sound. and suddenly you're not having any thoughts about it at all. You couldn't, there is nothing in you but the feeling of the stretch.

Your scent goes so sweet on the air that across the nest, Namjoon's growl almost goes violent. He and Jin are rocking and rubbing but neither of them pay much attention to each other, too busy watching you.

hobi feels a hot flush of pride down his spine as namjoon gives him an encouraging smile.

Yoongi curses, hands hard around your waist keeping you in place. You're half lying on top of Yoongi half spooning. Hoseok’s hands fist the sheet by Yoongi’s head, and Hoseok puts just a bit more force into it.

You tilt your chin and bite the scent gland at his wrist.

Hobi feels the zing of pain the same moment that he feels a shot of ecstasy as you start to part enough to let the head of his cock in, the space instantly flooded with slick and cum.

He pops inside, warm and thick, sliding past the sensitive skin of Yoongi’s proto knot, sliding up and in alongside Yoongi’s cock. A broken sound somewhere between a whimper and a moan gets forced from your throat and your body goes truly limp, teeth popping as you let go of Hobi's skin. Eyes so wide and open as you stare blankly ahead of you. Breathing heavy.

Hobi knows he'll bruise and that he'll get turned on every time he looks down at it for the next week. knows that the others will tease him for it by pressing against it too.

This is so different from taking Namjoon's cock. You're stretched but almost more because they're both pulsing, both moving independently from you and each other. Stretched so wide, so full. You feel stretched to the breaking point. Fucked dumb already.

And Hobi hasn’t even moved yet.

Yoongi and Hobi are forced close next to each other by how hard you clench down. You hug both of them dribbling squirt out a little pathetically, it gathers around the base of their cocks. They pause a little, breathing heavy. Feeling it, making eye contact over your shoulder.

They’ve done this before- not exactly this but a rendezvous in the record shop years ago back when Hoseok first became a part of the pack. Hobi remembers Yoongi’s big hands, both of their cocks next to each other, the slide of precum slick tangled with one fist to fuck.

Hoseok’s the one who moves first, more used to the feeling of almost knotting than Yoongi. He takes a minute to settle down. His expression is a little stricken, a little panicked, but Hobi doesn’t mind. If Yoongi needs to pop a knot he can and Hobi will just keep fucking you. With his chest pressed to yours, he can feel your heartbeat rabbit fast.

“Fuck- fuck- please- fuck” Yoongi is nearly unintelligible, but Hobi just laughs and keeps going.

With Yoongi against your back, you are dizzy with sensation. Too much is happening. The feeling of your pussy stretched out, the feeling of them sliding across each other and the sound they make is so much. Both of them moving in tandem. Both of them fucking you at once. It burns but it feels so good that you never want it to stop.

This is different, now you clench down around both of them and hiccup, adjusting. Your head lolls to the side, eyes blinking once, twice, then again as you stop crying. Jin coos and moves closer. Namjoon sighs and lets him so that the pack omega can run his hands over your hot cheeks. His skin is cool. So cool against the fire raging inside of you.

“Oh, little pup can’t handle two cocks in her little hole? Too bad honey, you asked for it. Now take it.” Jin is mean when he’s lucid. pulling your head to the side to prod at Yoongi's mating mark.

You clench at that, Yoongi twitches too. Hobi gasps.

Fuck, every time Yoongi moves, Hoseok feels it, every time he twitches, he feels it too. You are so warm and wet inside. Slick flooding the space between them and turning the rub even more heavenly. It won’t be long for any of you.

Hoseok looks down at Yoongi, hair shading his eyes as he works diligently to fuck you. Yoongi grins up at him, looking victorious and his while you stay like that, pliant and spacey, blinking and whimpering, eyes unable to focus on anything. Hobi takes your hand and holds it, pressing you into the bed.

Jin shuffles forward until he's close enough to touch, to feel. Namjoon settles back behind him. His hand reaches over to feel your stomach. The place where both of them are. You don't have a belly bulge- they're not long enough for that. But it still makes you blink and shiver.

There's the tacky rub of one cock against another, the terrible all-consuming tightness of your pussy stretched to the breaking point. Your eyes pupils dilated, resting against Yoongi’s chest, fucked so good that you are boneless. Yeah lolling utterly limp as Jin moves your head from one shoulder to the other. Laughing as he goes. "So good you can't even hold your head up?”

“Good pup? Does that feel good?”

You can't respond, fucked dumb. You can’t clench, you can hardly even cum. Or maybe it’s that you can’t stop cumming. One spike of pleasure blends into the next. your body is so sensitive, everywhere they touch your feels like too much, feels too sensitive.

Yoongi's voice goes rough, "look at me Hobi, look at me, I wanna see it while you fuck her, I wanna see it when you-"

A bead of sweat drips from Hobi's nose onto your shoulder, Yoongi laughs and laps at it. Pausing to nibble at your mating mark. You mewl, and one of Yoongi's hands finds Hobi's. It goes like that both of them fucking you, Hobi holds one of your wrists to keep you steady in a sea of pleasure, Yoongi holding the other.

Hobi's not quite sure who cum's first. Whether it's the feeling of Yoongi's new knot expanding against his that has him coming undone or the way that you tighten around his that has them both spilling inside of you. You squirt again, this time more than you did earlier.

A hot gush against Hobi's stomach and drips down the line of his cock onto Yoongi’s happy trail. But the flood of sticky cum around both of their cocks is so good, so wet that neither of them stops fucking you for long.

You can take it. Their knots rub against each other as they pause, kiss each other, and then you, and then keep fucking you.

Besides you three in the nest, Jin and Namjoon giggle and cuddle close. Namjoon leans close and nibbles at Jin's jaw. Their whispers are not so secret. The pack omega giggles in response. Despite his earlier complaints of soreness, Namjoon is hard and achy against Jin's lower back. The pack alpha shouldn't need to mount Jin again in his heat, but they might just for fun.

Just for fun Jin teases, "Do you think she'll be able to take you and Tae next?"

Namjoon growls and grins, allowing Jin his fantasy. They tilt their heads, peering down at you to see how taught you are around both of them. The bulge faints. You look- you look-

Wrecked. Claimed.

Namjoon can hardly say that he doesn’t think about it. How good it must feel to have one knot pressed against the other. Yoongi and Hobi clearly look like they’re enjoying the feeling. and you're still dripping into the nest too so-

The sound of your purring lulls the whole pack to sleep. Across the nest, Tae, Jungkook, and Jimin all sleep through it. Namjoon knows they’re going to be upset that they missed it, that they’ll probably demand to see a reenactment.

"Would it really hurt to try?" 

~-~

When you wake up on the 4th morning after your heat begins, you are no longer sweating although you do feel disgustingly sticky.

There is laughter going on in the hallway, sweet, the sound of Jimin and Jungkook’s giggles as they roughhouse on the stairs and light streams through the cracked window. Letting in the sweet smell of spring.

Someone is trying to take the blanket that’s on top of you gently, but after a questioning hum on your pack alpha’s part, a hushed whisper comes.

“This one’s covered in slick Joonie. Come on.”

Namjoon is big behind you, pressed along your spine, when you open your mouth, you have that vaguely tacky feeling between your lips that says you've been asleep for many many hours. When he pushes his face into your throat, there’s stubble there.

Huh- icky.

You feel hazy and fucked good, content, no fire permeates your chest, only a little bit of wanting, the usual amount. Your fingers tangle loosely with the fabric in front of you, attached to a chest, and a familiar husky laugh.

When you open your eyes you blink. Yoongi’s looking at you with that same soft fond look in his eyes. Peacefully blinking at you slowly the same way Noodle does.

But you slam them shut. Blushing furiously.

Oh my god, you really let him and Hobi, they both really-

You can’t look at him, can’t open your eyes as you fight down the flush. But neither of them seems to mind your sudden shyness. You feel a hand combing through your hair as you piece through it. Both of them laugh at you.

"Don't get shy on us now."

You feel more lucid than you have in days, is your heat done? Yes, it must be, because Namjoon’s scent does not smell as alluring as it used to. You feel the soreness between your legs. The ache in your whole body. Bone tired. Really- you feel like you could sleep for the next week.

“Ready to join the land of the living pup?” He teases, pressing kisses to your eyelids when you don’t respond and instead shake your heat. the warmth gets guided off of you regardless of your whines. but it’s just Jinnie. Just Jinnie smiling down at you.

“Hobi’s making breakfast.”

You grumble and try to burrow back into the nest unsuccessfully. Jin huffs and gets out of the nest, satisfied that you’re awake and that your heat is finally finally over. They expected yours to last a little longer but still.

Jin holds a soiled blanket out at arm's length. Maybe it's glad that your heat didn't last longer. He's not sure the nest could have handled it and they're already going to have to replace a good number of blankets. Jin's heat has already been over for almost a whole day and he's no longer feeling the exhaustion. No- Jin is wide awake and cannot wait to clean and nest and clean you again until you're sparkly. He's already eyeing your greasy hair with a glint in his eyes. Yoongi holds you firm to his chest like that will keep Jin from removing you.

But Jin sighs, settling his instincts down. It's easy today without the heat clouding his judgment.

“Coffee?”

“Yes please,” Namjoon stresses.

The nest is a little bit less orderly than it was when you first made it, the walls look like they’re about ready to collapse, and it’s not nearly as soft- after having the blankets being torn away from it. You try to squirm away when Yoongi and Namjoon guide you gently into a sitting position but instantly Namjoon’s hands dig into your sides.

You try and roll away.

“No no no, up. You need food.” You roll over onto your tummy, giggling and trying to squirm away.

“No! wanna nest!” Namjoon grabs your ankles and pulls you back and you giggle as he tickles up your thigh. When you open your eyes, Namjoon is looking down at you so tenderly it takes your breath away.

“Missed that.” He whispers. “that sound.”

Your body feels tired but you feel happy. You can tell the shirt you wear has pulled up around your ribcage and Namjoon’s thumb rubs up against your side.

You’re sore and worn, you’ve slept for what must have been more than 10 hours and you have this terrible feeling in your chest achy and needy. Anxiety. Anxiety at leaving the nest.

Your heat is over but your instincts still need settling. Your hand fists around Namjoon’s thigh as you turn over onto your stomach, draped across his lap. Huh, his thighs are so muscly, you understand why Jungkook’s sort of obsessed with them.

Namjoon pets gently over your spine. Letting you knead and manipulate the muscle and fat there. When you peak up at him, he’s raising his eyebrow at you.

“What do you need?”

6 or even 2 months ago you might have struggled to say it. To confess your needs to Namjoon. But now you only ruminate on exactly what it is you need. What will make you feel better?

Yoongi is close folding up some of the bedding on the edge of the nest, sorting through what’s soiled and what isn’t. What needs immediate washing and what can wait until tomorrow.

As long as whatever he brings back still smells like them you think it will still be safe, still be fine. You blink and a second later you realize that of course Yoongi has to take it away. You can’t exactly leave it here all fucked through.

You’ve left more than a few blankets squirt-stained. And you know that if he doesn’t handle them now when Jungkook is out of the nest the other omega might grow a little too attached to them because of how much they smell like you. His…less hygienic nesting habits aside.

You nuzzle into Namjoon's thighs as you watch him. Namjoon waits patiently for you to think through your thoughts.

Namjoon is not hairy, not really, but his hair is just a bit courser on his legs. You feel it, teasing your fingers through it draped over his thighs, hands holding around the meat of them. It’s an oddly childish gesture, an omega stimming. When you turn, you can see his smile out of the corner of your eye.

From the doorway Tae hums, toothbrush in her mouth, pink and sparkly. She’s just passing through to check on you. You flush and look away from her too. Remembering all the times she teased you, her reaction to your chest.

Speaking of that, what the fuck?

Your chest feels heavy just thinking about it. Your nipples feel sensitive just from rubbing against your shirt. You're not exactly surprised because you had heard that could happen but-

You cover your face. Namjoon lets you, recognizing that you're still processing everything that's happened.

Did someone…feed from you while you slept? You think they must have because your chest doesn't feel swollen and achy yet.

She grins when you peek at her like she knows what you’re thinking about.

“You should let us shave your legs Joonie.”

Your pack alpha huffs, and still smiling, says, “You can shave any bit of me you want if it makes you happy baby girl.”

She comes closer and Namjoon sets a hand on her thigh treading dangerously close to the hem of her pink silk robe (the one with the little gold butterflies) feeling her own freshly shaved legs. Her hair does look a little wet. Tae must have just taken a shower.

“You’re always so soft” Tae makes a noise in her throat and you tip your chin, looking up at her. Blinking slow.

Namjoon continues to pet down your spine with one hand on you and the other on her thighs.

Tae leaves to spit and there’s a lump in your throat that maybe has nothing to do with the heat- pre or post and everything to do with this being the first time you’re coming out of it with them. The last few days were- this was- so much. But they handled it so well and really you don’t know why you’re suddenly feeling so overwhelmed now when everything is over.

“I need,” you lick your lips. Thinking through your words before you say them. Namjoon waits, a patient pack alpha. He is endlessly patient especially when his pups are trying to be brave.

“A settling.”

When you tentatively glance back at Namjoon he’s smiling like it's nothing serious. Even though you can feel the hot flush of embarrassment on your cheeks. To ask for more sexual attention after all of that feels like maybe you could be asking for too much but-

It's not really sexual, is it? Intimate sure. But a spanking doesn't need to be sexual to give you what you need.

Namjoon tugs at your shorts- a pair of Hobi's? Jin’s? Boxers that they’d dressed you in. You blush when you think of that- of them guiding pants up your legs when you were prone. Although you’re sure they must have dressed you and undressed you multiple times through your heat.

Namjoon strokes up and down the skin of your behind, your thighs can't separate with your shorts still half on and you rest your face on a pillow, Yoongi tilts your chin up to his, checking, but you just smile at him.

“Gentle,” he asks.

Namjoon raises his eyebrow like he’d never be anything but (maybe he’s rough with you if you asked for it, but gentleness will always be his default). He looks down and laughs when his fingers press into you again. There is a deeper ache under his finger. A bruise?

“A bitemark.” He says when you ask, “probably one of the other pups.”

“Probably Jungkook” Yoongi says. He laughs and you do too.

On the stairs in the hall jungkook calls out. “Hey! I heard that! That one's from Yoongi!” and youdevolve into giggles again. When you peek up at him again Yoongi’s red all the way to his ears.

“Really hyung?” Namjoon teases, but Yoongi throws a pillow at him, it sort of lands on you- but you don’t mind at all as the feathers flutter down around you. Gentle.

The first spank Namjoon lands is that. Gentle.

His big hands hit with more of a thud feeling than a sharp sting. The sound is louder than the actual sensation. It forces a quiet hiccup from your throat. And your hand grips his thigh under your chest, eyes wide. Legs splaying as far as they can,

“There you go pup, let alpha give you what you need.”

Namjoon doesn’t make you count through it, petting over your skin for several seconds after every gentle spank. You’re sighing and going boneless by the last one, and Namjoon pulls up your waistband and lands one final one over the fabric. “There, better?” you nod and let him slip from underneath you and begin to untangle you from the nest.

But still, you’re no less boneless. No less able to stay awake, the spanking might have settled your nesting instincts, but you’re still too tired and too well fucked to move around on your own.  

But that too can be fixed- You demand to be carried to the kitchen and Namjoon happily obliges. There Tae has already picked out your favorite coffee cup, the pink one with the pearlescent flowers even though you’re a little too wobbly to hold onto it properly. It sloshes with decaf coffee as she hands it to you or tries to before she obediently feeds you a sip. The last thing that the pack needs is you getting dehydrated.

She looks gorgeous in another one of her flimsy night dresses, everyone is lounging in their pajamas, you might not even change into normal clothing today because you might not need to.  

Hoseok is there, with his sunny smile and hair- less greasy, drying curly. Wearing your frilly pink apron flipping pancakes and starting on the scrambled eggs, cracking the eggs in one hand, bacon frying, hair half awry.

You don’t say that it’s already noon, that it’s already time for lunch. It’s heat rules. The time doesn’t matter.

He spots you and tosses a grin over his shoulder. You tuck your face into Namjoon’s throat and whine. Namjoon (rather obediently for the pack alpha). Walks you over to him so that you can kiss his cheek. 

“Morning,” Hobi says all husky and rough but smiling. You can feel it pressed to your cheek. Namjoon hums in front of you, the purr-like growl vibrating.

“Wanna shower now or later pup?” You don’t like the idea of being separated from them, and you can tell from the vaguely clean feeling between your legs that you’ve at least been whipped down recently. Your tummy still feels…strange but good. You shake your head petulantly. Arms wrapped loosely around Namjoon’s neck. 

Hoseok turns back to the burner and you realize that he's not wearing anything under your apron besides a tiny tiny pair of boxers.

His body is… a little distracting. You don’t know who it was- you, Jin, or Jungkook who mauled him but Hoseok is bitten up. long scratches line his back all the way down to the little dimples at the base of his spine.

Every available inch of his body from his hips to his throat covered with rings of purple bruises, claiming marks, there’s even one on his knee, one closer to his feet. You sit across Namjoon’s thigh. Watching Hobi over the edge of your cup. Looking away whenever he turns around.

Upstairs, the sound of the shower gurgles and Jin’s shouting makes for some pleasant white noise. Jungkook’s hassling giggle as both of them get in. And your mates brief “yah don’t splash me-”

Who knows what they’re doing, wrestling or fucking or just being them. The omegas left to groom themselves before breakfast. You’ll join them after you’ve gotten a bit of food in your tummy. Tae disappears upstairs when Jin shouts at her for her blow drier.  

Hoseok's whole body is covered with bitemarks and you can sense from the vague soreness in your skin that you- like Hobi- bear the visible burden of their loving. You can’t find it in yourself to mind. You know you smell like them and you like that. 

after your breakfast, they're probably going to make you shower.

You’re so sleepy that you can’t even think about standing for a shower let alone walking. You still can’t really feel your legs beyond a vague hum that says your body has enough energy to move.  You just shift your legs up back and forth, swinging them sideways in Namjoon’s lap, fidgeting.

“You sure you don’t want to drink your coffee? Your water?” Namjoon prods.

“Wanna watch Hobi cook,” you say in answer. 

Yoongi hums, coming down the stairs wearing a dark splatter across his grey shirt as both of them laugh at you. Your blushing face gets tucked along Namjoon’s throat to hide again. Seriously- you're having a hard time looking any of them in the eyes.

Noodle makes an appearance, yowling loudly at you like he’s missed you and is letting you know. He circles your feet and presses up into the arch of your foot. You giggle, ticklish and Namjoon leans, extending a hand to scratch between Noodle's ears in hello. His hiss is only half hearted. Namjoon’s big hands on your waist remain firm so that you don’t slide right out of his lap.

“Didn’t starve with us neglecting you eh Nu?” He says, your feet continue to move fidgety. The backside of your omega zoomies who knows. All of the omegas are bound to get zoomies after so many days cooped up inside.

Who knows, maybe the whole pack will take a walk later, maybe to the beach. All of you will pile into two cars and drive out to the edge of the world and linger there. And you’ll sit in the sand and Hobi will search for more sea treasures. And Jimin will pick dandelions from the seashore, the only flowers really growing this early in spring. And you’ll tie one string around Tae's ring finger and one around yours.

You’ll walk with a happy few feet between all of you, the wide-open space calling to your instincts and settling them under the oncoming weight of spring. The sunshine streaming through the open window leads you to think that it’s warm outside, you’d like to be out there too.

Namjoon and Jin will spend half of the time bickering and kissing but after, there could be pizza or sandwiches or takeout, and maybe once you get home, you’ll eat it all on the floor of the living room after you admit that really- the nest room needs to be entirely disassembled. You’ll go to sleep smelling like sea salt and love. Bodies aching in that good way that lets you know you’ve been loved that day. And you’ll wake to another morning just like this one, where the light is in your eyes but at least it’s yellow and golden.

A fleck of sunlight lingers on Namjoon’s shoulder, and you nuzzle into it.

Behind you, Hobi starts humming a song, it’s not your favorite- but it’s Yoongi’s. His voice is so pretty, deep rough in the morning.

You’ll offer it up as an idea later when your mouth decides it wants to cooperate, pressed against the skin of Namjoon’s neck and shoulder, that space where his collar bones sit.  

Hobi flips the bacon and asks if Yoongi will turn on some music, your mate obliges. From upstairs Tae calls, “Tell the pup she needs to do a facemask with me and Minnie later! And a hair mask! And a-” A loud thud sounds, some grumbling then. “Ew slick does not count as a facemask Jungkook- ew-”

Namjoon’s arms are the safest place in the universe. You can’t help but think that you’d be happy in them forever as you cuddle up on his chest.

“Pup, no sleeping, you have to eat something-” his chides break off as you hum.

“Just a minute Joonie.”

You rest there, listening to the sound of Hobi's humming and Noodle meowing for bits of scrambled eggs as Tae and Jungkook bicker upstairs. Jimin says something to Jin on the stairs and you can hear the sound of them kissing. You can hear it all the way from here.

Yoongi comes close to you and says something soft to Namjoon that you can’t hear as Hobi begins to sing and the oil starts to pop.

You listen to them all and close your eyes against Namjoon’s throat.

~-~

Notes:

I needed to take a bit of a break from writing because i felt like my words were getting a little too repeditive- this probably has alot to do with writing 4 back to back smutt chapters but! in that way i think this chapter feels alot more organic and sweet. and feels a little new to me in terms of wording and writing in a good way, i hope you won't begrudge me when i need to take periodic breaks if i'm capable of giving you something you'll enjoy.

i'm going to ignore the fact that during the bath scene that water is probably SO FILTHY i did not say it in the chapter but they lowkey probably had to drain the water a few times and finger fuck the cum out of the m/c before she got clean. wow it's hot when i say it like that why didn't i write that???

it's a small change but- tae tilting the paper so that yoongi can see better?? when before she would have never let him see??? thats growth baybeee

listen i know the words "little hole" can be a squick for some people but tbh, when it's jinnie saying it and like- another omega my brain kind of malfunctions like a boy alpha saying that? ew ew ew, an omega or a female alpha saying it thought????? 🫦 gonna admit that i love it a bit too much.

ugh i love omega on omega stuff, litterally...if i talked in any more detail over how much i love it i'd have to put it over on my smutt blog.

in my mind when hobi says 'his best friend and his sort of soulmate' he's talking about both of them in each roll like- they're both is best friend and his soulmate. they're the golden trio

honestly i love fucking with clothes on like to me it feels much more intimate than having sex completely nude because it's like "i want you enough even with your clothes on

the end of this chapter was very inspired by that one tweet that goes "oomf fucked me so good i can't even look at him.

the reference to hobi's feet is specifically for one person out there.

so did you guys like it??? the heat chapters??? did it live up to the hype of the whole series? did any parts of it make you cum? let me know in my askbox!!!

[lovesickf-fics]

Say Ah baby?

Tw : cockwarming, sucking cock, age gap, praise, degredation, work place imbalance, power imbalance, size kink, manhandling, guiding body, crying

Character(s) Mentioned : Vander (Arcane)

Reader pronouns : He/him

Summary : Vander loves making his new start at the bar help him close up the place, especially when it ends up with him fully satisfied by the much younger and smaller guy

'You gotta learn how to do it'

'What if im away doin' business and need you to run this place by yourself?'

However many excuses Vander came up with it always ended up with him the same way.

Not doing anything work related, on his knees and having his mouth stuffed with cock by his boss.

Vander was always so blunt with it, too.

"Do me a favour? i gotta relax to shut this place down, so cmere"

And he listened, expecting to be taught a job Vander didn't want to do, and as always, Vander would grab him, his fingers almost touching around his waist, the small push would make him drop and suddenly his knees are getting scuffed and Vander is unclipping his belt

Vander was large all over, and it showed when he would cup the boys face, his calloused hands rough against the others jaw and when Vanders thumb drags and covers all of his bottom lip who is he to do anything but open his mouth for his boss.

Vanders cock matched the rest of him, big, girthy, and so incredibly hot. His cock filled the younger workers mouth to the brim and then some, drool spilling down the length that couldn't fit past his lips and down onto the thick curls that were directly infront of him.

The groan would rumble from above him, slowly the cock would move, in and out, taking advantage of every crook and cranny of his mouth and Vander would wander, pushing his cock to the side, watching as his cheeks stretched to accomodate, the cock scraping his teeth just a little and it would make vander sweat.

The bar would begin to smell of sex and sweat quickly, vander was a large man but he wasnt immune and with a tight hot mouth around him, he wasn't slow to adjust and he would thrust quicker as soon as he knew the other could handle it.

As Vander pushed him to his limits the older would try his best to talk him through it

"ah, thats it. You're such a good mouth you know that? its why i keep you around really"

He could never tell if Vander was trying to be nice or mean but it never really mattered because he couldnt do much to move, the larger hands stayed with one on the back of his head and one on his shoulder holding him down

Something about it was hot. the way he couldn't move, couldn't breathe properly, and how when vander got comfortable, the tears would spill, and if he sobbed, it only spurred vander on more.

Vander would thrust and grip him tighter, the grumbled getting louder, moans and grunts filling the empty tavern and he would grip him tighter, tugging him- forcing him down deeper, choking him a little as he came. The load hitting the back of his throat and spilling past that so he had no choice but to swallow and breathe through it.

The taste was familiar and always made him needy but that was the thing about this dynamic, vander was his boss and never gave him more than a pat on the shoulder after the bar was closed.