#the body language of each family member is perfect

[lokijiro]

(@woodelf68 look at this 😭)

This photo is so cute. It's in Loki's room in Marvel Rivals. I forgot to take a picture when I played beta, lol, but look at them.

[couldeatthatgirlforlunch]

To Your Love That Smells Like Crazy

Synopsis: Damian presented as an alpha, to everyone's despair. He announced he found a mate, to everyone's skepticism. You're the perfect omega, to everyone's delight.

Pairing: Yandere!Alpha!Batboys X Gn!AFAB!Omega!Reader

Tw: 18+ pwp; noncon/dubcon smut; noncon drugging; creepy batfamily members feeling attracted to Reader when they were still 15, but nothing sexual or romantic between them happens until they're 18; this chapter is mostly Damian x Reader; ABO, Reader is an omega, all the batboys are alphas; Heat symptoms; Damian and Reader are 15 at first, when the smut happens they're 18, Tim is three years older than them, Jason is five years older, Dick is 10 years older and Bruce is on his 40s; Implied future gangbang? They want to share Reader (polyamory) but right now the real action is just between Damian and Reader; Loss of virginity on both parts; Implied that Damian is also inexperienced on kissing and Reader knows a little more about that; Fingering!R receiving; Slight schoolgirl/boy/person!Reader; Reader wears lipgloss, nail polish and earrings; Omegas breasts produce milk during heat; Some breastfeeding; Breeding kink; Handcuffs; The word ‘rape’ is used twice; Lots of crying; Nipple play; Dirty talk; Slight voyeurism; Unprotected sex; Negative and selfdeprecating thoughts; Claiming ownership (biting); English isn't my first language.

Word count: 4,7k

Requested? No.

Extra notes: Planning on making one pwp chapter for each batboy, and then a last one with no smut. Also, I think I'm gonna start posting on AO3 since the tw are getting worse...

General masterlist | To Your Love That Smells Like Crazy - Series masterlist

Damian was territorial, dominant and temperamental since the family had known him. Maybe he was born like that, maybe he wasn't, they couldn't know, so, what they most hoped for was that those were just personality traits, maybe coping mechanisms, and the puppy would present as an omega or beta one day, and then maybe the hormones would make him calm down. It was a small possibility, but one could only dream, right?!

Well, those hopes were crushed when, at his fifteenth birthday, Damian woke up growling at the mix of strong alpha scents stinking his room, his territory, and started pacing inside there, not allowing anyone but the old beta Alfred to come in.

He calmed down after a couple of hours, came out of his room to eat breakfast, assessed and scented the rest of his territory (everyone's territory, really, the manor was the family’s home), and maybe humor his inner alpha by subjugating the rest of the pack. It didn't work, obviously, they were all mature alphas who went through puberty already and knew how to (mostly) manage conflict with a newly-turned alpha who still smelt like milk and was just overwhelmed with hormones.

After a full belly, it was decided he shouldn't have to go to school for the first few days (something the teenager was happy with), to learn to control his mood and impulses, visit a specialized doctor to be sure what kind of suppressants were better suited for his organism, and so he could go through his first rut in peace.

A few days later, Damian went back to school, nose itching from some not-so-pleasant alpha scents, some weak beta scents, some sugary omega scents, and a lot of milky scents coming from most students, especially unpresented puppies.

He wondered how adults live like this, if he would just get used to it, and it wouldn't bother him so much one day. One thing was to feel the smell of flowers or food, another thing was to feel people’s pheromones. But his train of thoughts were halted when he felt you.

Not even inside the classroom yet, but he could sniff you out and find you if he wanted to. Strong, yet suave, soft. Strawberries. And milk. It made his whole body shudder and tremble. Now he knew why his family occasionally asked where the delicious scent stuck to his clothes came from. Now he knew why alphas turned their heads and stared at you so much when you both were walking around. It was all you. His best friend.

Damian stared openly and unconsciously, while you made your way to him none the wiser and sat down at his side, and he almost got annoyed when, at first, you didn't seem to notice his new presentation, as if you didn't even acknowledge him as an alpha yet. But then you turned and stared at him strangely.

— Dude, why’re you staring so mu- Oh. — You blinked, finally having realized where the new musky scent was coming from. — You're lucky you smell good. My neighbor smells like feet.

When he came home, he announced he had an omega.

Obviously, that left everyone bewildered as to what he meant by that, it was impossible for during his first day back outside as an alpha, he already had a mate. But he didn't have to explain much for them to understand, the scent on his clothes was enough proof as to why he wanted you for himself.

After that, Damian invited you to hang out with him at the manor for the first time. It caused a reaction in everyone, and all of them were home, of course they were, Damian wanted to show off his future mate, and you had to meet the family, since he single-handedly decided you were going to join their pack already.

As you walked past each door on the way to Damian's room, everyone had a reaction.

The old beta and grandfather, Alfred, was very polite and nice, he smelt like tea. He smiled more freely with how sweet you were, amused by Damian's clear crush.

Next, you passed Dick by the gym, he smelt spicy, and his door was open, so he could peek better to satiate his curiosity when Damian's crush arrived, yet, he didn't expect to almost fall from his stretching position when he finally took a whiff from your sweet scent for the first time, instead of just the faint and weak thing that occasionally got stuck on Damian's clothes and hair. He managed to look mostly presentable even though he almost sprinted to the corridor to meet you. Dick was even more pleased to see you were beautiful, even in your modest school uniform. He forced himself to hold back and stay in the gym when Damian decided the interaction took long enough, and pulled you to keep walking.

Jason was next, he was in the library. His scent was thick. Woody. He coughed around his drink when he felt your scent, and Damian rolled his eyes at him. Jason’s whole body froze when he saw how soft you looked, clearly an omega. He noted that you looked older than fifteen, but Jason knew you were just a couple of months older than Damian, and you still smelled like milk. His attraction to you bothered him because he couldn't ignore your still-milky scent, and he was already imagining how you would smell like when you fully reached maturity. Your hair was shiny and looked soft, like clouds and cotton-candy. He wanted to stick his nose there and hug you. You looked the perfect company for a nap (and more). Damian quickly steered you away to keep walking.

Next was Tim, he was in his room, and he smelt like peppermint. He always kept the door closed, but during your visit, it was open wide, due to his curiosity to meet you, everyone knew that. Tim snapped his eyes away from his computer when he felt you, and stared at you wide-eyed when you appeared. You didn't even come inside, Damian didn't want to feel your scent coming off of Tim's room to haunt him every time he walked past that door for the next days. It would definitely make him want to kill his brother. Tim tried to burn your image to his brain to the smallest details. He noted the color of your nail polish, your earrings, the thing dangling from your backpack, the shine and rosiness of your lip gloss. Tim specially liked your soft-spoken voice, and it bothered him how polite, neutral and distant it was, because clearly you both didn't now each other, you were just there as Damian's friend, meeting his older brother for the first time, and just wanted to go hole up inside Damian's room as soon as possible to avoid the weird interaction.

Soon, your wishes came through, and you spent the next few hours there with Damian basically teaching you everything and doing your homework. It was a new behavior, he never did that out of instinct before, some people asking him for help would annoy him, others, like you, he would calmly help out of the hidden kindness in his heart, but he never took initiative before. You brushed it off as just new alpha behavior and just used his either gentlemanly or condescending behavior, if it meant you could gain things out of it and be lazy.

At dinner, you finally met his father. Bruce Wayne was the alpha of a pack full of alphas and a beta. His himbo and playboy persona gave you the impression that he wasn't the most dominant alpha around, but you were proven wrong when you felt his sandalwood aroma and saw his towering frame. His personality was the same you saw on the TV, though, pleasant like a TV host or just a popular guy. On the inside, he was fixated with you, ignoring your milky childish scent and your school uniform. He wanted you around the house more. God knows how much a bit more of softness could help the family’s dynamic. Maybe that was what was missing, an omega around the place. Like you. Actually, it could be you. He thought about convincing Damian to stick to living in the manor even after you were both married adults. Or you could be Bruce’s when you were of age. Wait, how old were you?

Alfred drove you and Damian to your place after everything was done, all the alphas with a heavy heart, bothered that you had to go, that you couldn't spend the night with them yet. Even if you were already theirs.

It took a lot to convince Damian to share you, but eventually, he begrudgingly agreed, they were a pack, after all, not just a family, they stick together, take care of each other and of each other's interests. Having something that wasn't just vigilantism in common would be good bonding for them, and the closer a pack could get, the better. That he knew. A pack sharing someone wasn't exactly unheard of either.

After that, Damian started inviting you to the manor more often. Almost every week you were there. Your parents started saying that Damian probably was interested in you, but you laughed it off, never thinking an alpha like him would be interested in an omega like you.

The family made the best of that time to get you used to them, to their dynamic, and to make you feel at home, safe, trustful. They also wanted your scent to get stuck everywhere. To get to know you. To learn everything about you. To make plans.

When Damian's 18 birthday came, you were already legally an adult too, and they invited you over, saying it was a birthday party. When you got there, the party consisted in only you and the family.

The conversation was nice.

They put drugs on your piece of cake that simulated an out of cycle heat.

It started with fatigue.

Then fever.

Your eyes got blurred.

You thought you were getting sick, and just planned on taking cold medicine when you got home.

The alphas were slowly coming closer and circling you, unnoticed.

You felt weird in your intimate parts, maybe you needed to pee.

You stood up, but your knees were weak, and you almost fell, if it wasn't for Dick, who caught you mid-air.

All scents became clearer when your eyes locked. You wondered what the look on his face meant, confused.

You felt their excitement, and arousal. And you felt something poking your thigh.

You felt your own underwear getting wet.

You asked them to take you home, but they denied. That made you feel antsy, so you tried searching for your phone to call your parents to pick you up, but you couldn't find it. It got especially hard when Damian picked you up and started walking up the stairs with you.

— It's okay, omega. You're okay with us. I’m going to take care of you… — Your hands trembled when he purred the word ‘omega’, mumbled those words, and nuzzled the side of your head with his nose, taking a deep breath from your sweet strawberry scent, and faint sex smell, due to the wetness between your thighs. No longer any hint of milk anymore, since you already reached maturity just a couple of months before him, and now he also didn't smell like puppy anymore.

— N-No… D-Dami… W-Where are you taking me? What a-are you gonna do? … I wanna go home… I’m not feeling good… — You whimpered and tried to weakly move out of his hold, it didn't work.

— You are home, beloved. And I’m going to help you feel better… With my knot. — Your eyes widened. — I will fuck you real good and fill you with my semen. I know it is your first time, it is mine too. But do not worry, your heat will make it painless and you will be satisfied with me. — You whimpered higher, your omega was preening, crying for a knot, your pussy squeezing hard, but your mind knew it was wrong. Clearly something was wrong. Why was no one helping? Couldn't they see you were caught by surprise with your heat and were saying no to him? Why were they looking at you like that? A cough coming from somewhere seemed to snap Damian out of it, like he remembered something. — Ah, right. And then, you will receive father’s, and my siblings' knots. I will go first since it’s my birthday and I claimed you first. — Damian blushed, despite his smug tone. 

You cried for help, at first, it came out weak, as your omega didn't want to make something the alphas would disapprove of, but the closer you got to the room they designated for the moment, the reality of what was coming was overtaking your instincts. Especially after your belly started to hurt at being empty of seed.

The alphas only shushed you, and you helplessly watched as Tim handcuffed one of your hands to the bedpost as soon as Damian laid you down on the nest they made for you, and Dick and Jason each started taking your sneakers off. Bruce was standing a few feet away from the bed, Alfred at his side. The oldest alpha’s eyes were glued to your laid down figure, hungry and serious. Darker than you had ever seen. You've never been more scared of him before. He occasionally commented something to Alfred, that you vaguely registered as instructions, that also started being given to his children.

You weakly tugged at the handcuff and tried to sit up at the same time, but Damian pushed himself between your legs, and held you down by the waist. Dick and Jason held your legs open to accommodate him better, and your overwhelmed brain barely noticed their hands also rubbing your ankles and thighs. You've never felt more aroused and more scared your whole life. 

Alfred exited the room to start doing Bruce's orders, and he kept watching. Tim, who had disappeared out of your line of sight for a second, came back holding a long, shiny and glinting pair of scissors. You tugged harder at the restraints and tried to push your body up to get away, thinking he was going to hurt you, but he just purred at you to calm you down, unfortunately, it worked, and your pussy tightened when Damian hissed at feeling your center pressing against his hard cock, when you pushed your hips up and against his. You could feel him poking your underthigh, only the clothes separating you.

— It's okay, omega, I’m just cutting off your clothes, it's gonna be easier to strip you that way. — Tim said soothingly, while purring and almost cooing at you. Your eyes widened when he said that, and actually started cutting your shirt open, until Dick was able to pull the ruined fabric off from under you. 

All three alphas started purring at seeing your braless torso, chest already swelling with milk and nipples darkened. Omegas body produced milk when they had a puppy to feed, or during heats, and ruts, when an alpha was in a rut, and the omega was helping them, because the body understood it was a rough period, where a lot of energy was spent and not much nutrition came, since both were too busy procreating and too weak to go searching for food, so the milk was a lot helpful in those moments. There were even historical moments where that skill was useful in other contests, when the economy got so bad that most packs were starving, and the omegas of the pack helped them survive with milk.

Damian bit his lips and brought his right hand up to your left breast, squeezing it softly. Everyone was entranced, watching a single drop of milk come out, the breast not full yet. You arched your back, it felt good, so good that for a moment you forgot why you wanted to get away. Damian also didn't help your train of thought when his thumb started rubbing your stiff nipple, sending ripples of pleasure through your body and forcing your eyes closed. You forced yourself not to make a sound.

You snapped out of it when you felt Tim cutting your pants and underwear off. Your eyes widened at the feeling of being exposed and the almost cold air that made your hair stand. Your legs trembled and you felt Dick and Jason's hands working, uncoordinated pads of fingers dancing across the inside of your thighs. 

Your arousal’s scent freely infastated the room now, and half of them growled, in exception of Bruce and Tim, who were keeping themselves more calm and collected. 

— It's time to go now, let Damian and (Y/N) have their moment. — Bruce announced and you watched as Damian smirked, then you hid your face, sobbing against the pillow. He cooed at you while his other hand went down between your legs and started rubbing slow circles while pressing against your clit.

Dick sighed.

— Take care of them, Dami. Have fun and enjoy. — Dick patted Damian's shoulder, but you weren't sure the alpha above even noticed you, too busy gazing at you and your body, enjoying how warm and wet you were. 

— Yeah, remember to do what we taught you, baby bird. — Damian only hummed at Jason's comment, and leaned down, pressing his chest to yours. He brought his mouth to the juncture of your neck and shoulder, and started leaving a trail of kisses up your neck, and under your jaw.

It was your first time feeling someone doing this, when you read fanfics and books, you never thought this could feel good like the writing always described, but it actually did, and you hated that you liked it, crying harder against the pillow and hoping his lips weren't moving closer to your face because he wanted to kiss you. You felt his nose sniffing your scent gland.

Tim hummed.

— Be careful with them, and don't take too long, everyone wants their turn. — Tim warned softly and was the last to exit the room, closing the door, but not locking it.

Damian’s warm breath huffed against your neck.

— Finally alone… — Damian whispered with a hoarse voice that made your hair stand. You whimpered and squeezed your eyes harder.

— Please, let me go… You don't have to do this, I won't tell anyone- — Your sentence was cut short when one of Damian's long and thick fingers invaded your entrance delicately. Your mouth opened on a silent scream, and the alpha watched you with lust in his eyes.

— Beloved… Omega… You will come to like this, I promise you that… — He sucked a faint hickey on your scent gland. His right hand started exploring the rest of your body, fumbling and squeezing the softer parts he found out he liked the most. You couldn't control your panting and small moans when his finger curled upwards inside you, touching your sweet spot. 

— D-Dam-... A-Alpha… — You arched your back when he started fingering you faster, your sensitive walls milking a single finger, crying for a thick knot, thirsty for his seed, your womb empty of puppies. 

— See… — He kissed your cheek. — We barely started, and yet… — Another kiss, closer to your mouth. — You're already dripping and earning for my knot… — Your lips met, it didn't seem like he had much experience, maybe it was his first kiss? Either way, you knew a little more about what you were doing, and he quickly learned. In just a few minutes, he was dominating your mouth. The younger alpha gave a slow bite to your lips when a second finger joined the first in fucking you, wet noises eccoing around the room.

You gained some clearance after a few moments, when he took his fingers off. You whined, not knowing if it was to plead him not to rape you, or because you wanted his cock stuffing you as soon as possible. You tried to force your head away from his, and he relented, pausing the kiss, but only to start taking his own clothes off. If your face wasn't already hot from the fever and arousal, you knew it would be now, feeling shy with everything new that was happening and his naked body, and surprised that you never once noticed his muscles before. 

While afraid, you peeked down and saw his hard and bobbing dick, it was thick and above average, but not too much. Not too much for someone who wasn't a virgin like you were, that is.

You tried to sit up, to get away from him in a bolt of strength you didn't have until now, fighting your omega with as much as you could. But it proved to be no help, as it punished you by making your belly tug and hurt twice more. Your torso fell down on the bed again, powerless by pain, numbness, and the restraint around your wrist.

Damian only cooed, still kneeling above you and between your legs. You cried. You didn't feel his calloused hands holding and caressing your hips, but you felt the blunt wet tip against your entrance. You were ruined.

Your parents would hate you. They would say it was your fault for ignoring their warnings and shoving yourself inside a home full of alphas with no omega. They would kick you out of the pack. And if the Wayne's did good on their word of raping you one after the other, you would probably get pregnant, as you weren't on birth control. That is, if they didn't kill you or kept you hostage in their basement. And even if your pack wanted to, they wouldn't be able to do anything to get justice for you, as the Wayne's were much more influential and rich. You were only going to the same school as Damian because your parents worked as teachers there, for god's sake. You were doomed. And if they decided to mark you…

You cried harder, ashamed of being so aroused now and so dumb all along. For the first time, you hated being an omega.

But all those self-deprecating thoughts were muffled when he finally invaded you. It was slow, gentle, testing how things felt. Damian heaved a breath and buried his face on your neck, breathing your scent deep. It felt amazing, for the both of you. You were so deep in your heat that of course it wasn't going to hurt at all, silly you. Those alphas were right, they are always right. They can take care of you.

— … More… Please, I want more… — You moaned and tried moving your hips against his, forcing his cock to push against your walls faster. Damian's head snapped up, looking at you with interest and lust. You were already cockdrunk, as he was pussydrunk, and he wasn't even halfway inside yet.

He bottomed out with more hurry, after pulling in and out twice to test if you really weren't in pain. He moaned deep against your face before shoving his lips against yours again, while he thrusted his hips. The alpha found the perfect rhythm while pulling almost all the way in and out, in a steady dance. Your moans got louder by the second, your inner omega happy with all the attention you were receiving.

Your free hand shot up to rest on his back, nails digging his scarred skin, not knowing what to do. Damian's hips gradually grew in force, until the bed was shaking and softly hitting the wall. The sound of your hips colliding and your wetness clear as day didn't bother you, as you only started begging for the alpha. To be owned. To be knotted. To be breeded.

— See how I take care of you… — He kissed down your collarbone, murmuring against your skin. — Make you feel good… — One of his hands slid down to grip your thigh, pulling your leg up, purposefully looking for a deeper angle to ravish you. You gasped as he found it, and his thrusts got harder. You mumbled a bunch of agreements to whatever he was saying, you just wanted his knot! — You're my omega now, our omega now… — He softly bit your pouting nipple, being considerate as to not hurt the sensitive and swelling area. Your hand trembled on his back and shot up to pull his hair in an overwhelming wave of pleasure. He pulled weakly at your nipple with his teeth scraping the nerves on the area, until he let it go. — We will stuff you full of cum everyday and every hour… — His lips trailed down your ribs, but the position didn't allow him to go further down. He wanted to leave kisses on your whole body, and now he could do that, because now you weren't escaping them. He growled, resigning himself to traill his lips up through the space between your breasts. Your body trembled with the sound. — Fuck you real good… You will never have to beg, omega, we will spoil you with everything you need, everything you want… — His huge hands trailed up your body until they reached your chest. He squished them for a moment, enjoying how soft they were, and how pliant you were, looking straight into your dazed cockdrunk eyes. Imagining how your perfect pups will look like. Milk started coming out in small drops, so silent that he only noticed when it was dripping down his hand. His eyes shot down to assess the view and his knot started growing at the sight of your swelling breasts and darkened nipples, giving up milk for him, for him, so soft his fingers were digging and moulding the flesh, all while they were dancing up and down, bouncing, seducing him. You were seducing him. You were stunning, ravishing, perfect without even trying. He was happy his pack was the one tying you down to them, he wanted to kill someone just for thinking that someone else could have you like this. — … And you will give us everything we want…

He tentatively, almost hypnotized, leaned down and sucked your stiff nipple between his soft lips, sucking a small amount of milk inside, letting It rest on his tongue for a moment, savouring the taste, before swallowing.

You were sensitive, with a dull ache, but his suckling helped with the pain and sent waves of flickering pleasure against your body. You could feel him forcing his knot with each thrust to fit inside you as it gradually grew, and gasped, whimpering pleas for more. Begging him to keep going and stuff you full. You were both getting close to orgasm. Damian shut his eyes hard, overstimulated with the growing pleasure. He let go of your breast when he started feeling his canines getting more protruded, itching to bite your neck and claim you, his eyes also getting brighter, his inner alpha waiting to take ownership over you. Strip you off the life you had before. Forcing you to subjugate, until the smallest cells in your body knew who you belonged to.

He didn't hold himself, of course, and your first mark soon made home above your collarbone, your souls locking together and the intimacy going to an extraordinary level when you reached the peak of pleasure in tandem, while his knot swelled and made you stuck together, stopping any drop of cum from going to waste.

Every single drop was forced to stay inside of you, and Damian lifted your almost limp head, you both drunk, still coming down from the waves of pleasure, and forced your lips against his neck, his scent gland, and you, whose omega and heat had taken over since the moment his cock invaded you, didn't hesitate to mark him back, locking the bond completely.

— Good omega, good omega…

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[inkedinshadows]

Say My Name

Day 12: Hate fuck — Eris x f!reader

Warnings: unprotected sex, p in v, one instance of name calling, language

Word count: 2.354

A/N: ahhh I'm so excited for this one! It's actually the first Eris fic I've ever written (before the one for day 8) and I had so much fun. It's probably my favorite out of all kinktober fics!

As the emissary of the Night Court, you often had to deal with members of other courts, some more polite than others. And though you loved your job for the most part, you had come to hate when you had to meet with Eris Vanserra, which happened a bit too frequently since Rhysand had agreed to help him scheme against his own father.

You despised the male.

Eris was nothing but an arrogant, self-assured prick who thought he was better than anyone else. But even more than that, you hated the way your body reacted to him. You always had to keep a few feet of distance if you didn’t want anything inconvenient going on between your legs.

“You’re late.”

You rolled your eyes at that familiar voice as you closed the door behind you. Your meetings took place in a small, abandoned cabin Azriel had found along the border between the Winter and the Autumn Court. It was a single room with a small bed in one corner, a few kitchen counters on the opposite wall and a table with two chairs at the center of the space. Not much, but perfect for secret meetings.

Eris was currently leaning against one of the dusty counters, arms crossed over his muscular chest, scowling at you.

Forcing yourself to meet his gaze and not stare at the way his brown tunic perfectly hugged his biceps, you shrugged irreverently. “I’m here now, so let’s get this over with. The less I see you, the better.”

His jaw ticked. “I’ve been waiting for twenty minutes.”

“And?” You took a few steps forward, leaning against the table to mimic his position. “I had better things to do, Vanserra.”

Not exactly true. You had arrived late because you wanted to. You relished the sight of his anger, savoring the knowledge that you could get on his nerves so easily. The thought of him growing impatient while he waited for you to show up brought a little smile to your lips, especially since you knew that he needed the Night Court’s help more than you needed his.

Eris pushed off the counter and stalked toward you, his arms now at his side. You kept your eyes on his face, watching as that dormant fire power inside him sparked to life in his gaze. All of a sudden, you were breathing slightly faster.

“Allow me to make one thing clear, darling,” he drawled, stopping mere inches from you. You cringed at the pet name, though something fluttered deep in your stomach as he continued. “This is not a game. I don’t care what you or your preening High Lord and his oh-so-perfect friends believe about me. He promised his help.”

His hands were on the table behind you now, trapping you between the furniture and his body. He leaned closer, his scent engulfing you, until he was snarling directly in your face. “So if you can’t even bother to show up on time to do your job, tell him to send someone else. Someone professional.”

You were supposed to snap, to put him in his place, to yell and get angry at him. And deep down you were. After all, he had just insulted your friends and family, and not so subtly called you incompetent. But he was so close to you that you could feel his warm breath on your face and his chest brushing against yours with every inhale.

And then you made the stupid mistake of glancing down at his lips.

You didn’t know what happened next. You didn’t know who moved first. But one moment you were glaring at each other, and the next it was a whirlwind of tongues and teeth as your mouths collided.

There was nothing gentle about the kiss. Eris groaned, you moaned, both of you tried to take the lead and not submit to the other. But then he pushed you back against the table, his hips flush with yours, and suddenly there was just the hard bulge in his pants pressing against you.

Eris slid one of his hands in your hair to tilt your head back, drawing a whimper from you and exposing your neck for him to bite.

“Is this what you want?” he growled in between nips that you knew would leave a red mark. “Is this why your thighs clench together so often when you’re around me?”

“Shut up, Vanserra,” you grumbled, not caring how he had noticed that detail. All you wanted was to feel him, to give in to this unwelcome desire just for once, hoping it would be enough to make it go away. The wrongness of it all, the hate you harbored for each other, should have been a deterrent, but it only fueled your need instead.

Your fingers were on his pants, making quick work of undoing the buttons. Before you could go any further than that, you yelped as Eris spun you around and unceremoniously bent you over the table.

You turned your head toward him. “What are you—”

“Shut up,” he snarled in your ear. “I’m giving you what you’re too ashamed to ask for yourself.”

You didn’t know how to answer that. You did want this, and your pride stopped you from admitting it out loud. But shame? You weren’t ashamed of how you felt. You simply hated it with all your being.

“You’re so wet already,” he drawled, brushing its tip on your clit. “How long have you been thinking about this?”

Eris didn’t give you the time to come up with a different answer than another grumbled ‘shut up’. Your skirt was already being pushed up around your waist, your panties dropped to your ankles, and a moment later the head of his cock rubbed against your folds, making you both groan.

“Eris…” you whined. You didn’t even care how desperate and needy your voice sounded anymore. You just wanted to feel him inside you.

But he stopped and pulled away. His mouth was at your ear again, his breath hot on your skin. “How did you call me, sweetheart?”

You froze too as realization hit you. He had always been Vanserra to you. You had never uttered his name in front of him, just like he had never said yours. It just slipped out in the heat of the moment, and you certainly wouldn’t make that mistake again.

“I thought that was your name,” you replied, your voice going back to the scornful note it always carried when talking to him.

“It is.” Eris ran his hands along your body, and his tone became demanding. “Say it again.”

“No.”

He grabbed your hips, fingers digging in enough to bruise. “Say it.”

“Fuck you,” you spat. You wanted to turn around and give him one of your disdainful glares, but he was leaning over you, pressing you between his chest and the wooden surface beneath you.

“Oh, darling, I will fuck you.” You felt him smile against your ear. “And you will be screaming my name by the time I’m done with you.”

The words were already on your lips. Like hell I will. You opened your mouth to say just that, but a cry came out instead as Eris pushed his cock inside you with a single thrust. You barely had time to catch your breath before he was pounding into you.

“Fuck, you feel better than I thought…” he sputtered, nibbling on your earlobe. “Tight little cunt squeezing me just right.”

Every thought or concern faded from your mind at the punishing rhythm he set. There was only the heavy drag of his cock sliding in and out of you, and when he lifted himself off you and stood to his full height behind you, the new angle allowed him to hit your most sensitive spot just right.

“Say my name.”

Eyes closed, mind foggy, you somehow managed to bite out, “No.”

His hand fisted your hair to pull your head back. You groaned, your back arching off the table, holding on to the edge hard enough that your knuckles were white.

“I want to fucking hear it,” he panted, each word accentuated by a thrust that made your eyes roll back.

But you wouldn’t give him that satisfaction, not even now. Your pride and stubbornness wouldn’t let you go farther than letting him fuck you over a table.

“Keep fucking dreaming, Vanserra.”

Apparently, it wasn’t the right answer. His grip on your hair and hip only tightened and he slammed harder inside you, his balls slapping against your ass with each thrust, but at least he didn’t ask again and neither of you said anything more. The only sounds that could be heard were moans and groans—yours or his, you could no longer tell—, the wet noise of his cock sliding in your dripping cunt, and the occasional creaking of the table beneath you.

You weren’t sure how long you kept going. It could have been a few minutes or a few hours, and it would have made no difference at all: by the time you were reaching your climax, you were so fucked out it was hard to breathe or think straight. And Eris probably noticed it too, because he pulled you up until your back was pressed against his chest.

He let go of your hair only to tease your clit, gently drawing circles around it as he let up a bit until he was thrusting at a torturously slow rhythm. Your release had been so close, yet it was slipping away.

“Will you say my name now, darling?” he murmured in your ear. “Then you can come.”

You didn’t know why it mattered so much to him, but you were too lost in the pleasure, your mind too hazy to even try and fight him this time. “Eris,” you mumbled softly.

Your head fell back against his shoulder, eyes closing again when his fingers moved a bit faster on your clit. You were ready to come, and you waited for him to pick up the pace, but his thrusts remained too slow, too gentle.

“A little louder, sweetheart,” he ordered. “I couldn’t hear you.”

You sighed, the sound a perfect mix of frustration and bliss, and squirmed in his arms to try and get more than what he was giving.

Eris simply stopped what he was doing. His hand left your clit and he pulled out until only the tip of his cock was still inside you. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to.

“Eris, please…” you whined, loud enough that he couldn’t complain about not hearing it.

“You said my name and you’re begging?” His teeth grazed your neck. “Now, that’s a good little slut.”

You should be outraged, ashamed, shoving him away after such an insult, and a small part of you was, because you breathed out, “I fucking hate you.” It didn’t come out as angrily as you intended, though, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You weren’t even sure you said that because of the insult or to try to preserve some semblance of dignity.

Eris had the nerve to laugh. “Oh, I know you do, darling. I bet you also hate how good my cock feels inside you.”

He pushed you back down over the table, his hands finding their place on your hips as he finally thrust back into you.

“But I don’t see you complain about that,” he growled just before he began to relentlessly pound into you.

If possible, he was fucking you even harder and more roughly than before. Your cheek was pressed against the wood, and soon your legs were shaking, barely able to hold you up. Moan after moan tumbled out of your mouth, each one louder than before, until Eris slammed into you particularly deep and you screamed his name as your orgasm barreled through you.

His thrusts became frantic, his grip firmer, and it was only a matter of seconds before he came with a groan, filling you with his warm seed, your walls still clenching around him.

For a moment, you were both still. You were panting, body slick with sweat, and when Eris at last pulled out, you felt his absence inside you. But you would be damned if you let even the slightest whimper leave your lips now. Instead, you stood up straight as if that obnoxious desire had been sated rather than fed.

You pulled your panties back up and fixed your skirts, trying to ignore the remnants of your combined releases smeared over your inner thighs. You fixed your hair with your hands as best you could, and only then did you turn to face Eris.

He was watching you with a smirk on his annoyingly beautiful face. He looked as if nothing had happened—perfect hair, smoothed tunic, pants already buttoned up.

“What?” you snapped.

“I told you you’d scream my name and you did, didn’t you?” He prowled closer, reaching out a hand as if he wanted to touch you. “Just like I said.”

You batted his hand away and took a step back, arms crossed over your chest. “So what? It doesn’t change anything. I still hate you.”

“Good. Because I hate you just as much.”

“Good.”

You stared each other down for a whole minute before you crumbled and looked away. You swore you could see a smug smile appear on his face, but it was gone by the time you glanced back at him.

“This was a horrible mistake,” you sighed. You aimed for the door. “It will never happen again.”

Eris only smirked. “We’ll see.”

You winnowed away before you could punch him on that marked beautiful jaw of his. Only later did you realize you hadn’t asked why he had called for a meeting in the first place.

But Eris had been right, as it turned out. Because you still had to meet with him, and it did happen again. And again. And again. Until you didn’t fight it anymore.

Until you came to love the way Eris Vanserra hated you.

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[joongieology]

Muse | Jung Wooyoung

Pairing: Artist!Boyfriend!WooyoungxReader

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 1.2k

Warning: mention of naked body

Sypnosis: Your boyfriend has been busy with his gallery, leaving you missing him. One thing you didn't know though, he had a surprise waiting for you.

Note: This is the first ever fanfic I've written. English is not my first language so please bear with me. If you have any feedback, please let me know! I swear I tried ಥ⁠‿⁠ಥ

¡Disclaimer: The following content is a work of fiction and does NOT represent the written member in any way!

You've been dating Wooyoung for a few years now. Everything is well, better than you could ask for, but you wish you could move on to the next stage. You've always dreamt of getting married in a church since you were a little girl. Striving hard so you can save up for a grand wedding, wanting you and your future husband's day to be extra special. And now, you finally found the man you want to marry.

You met Wooyoung through your college friend, San. You went to get coffee at your usual hangout place—a café near the university—when you saw San with someone. You proceeded to where they were sitting and San invited you to sit with them.

That was the day you met Wooyoung, and that was also the day you started liking him. He was very chatty and he always made you laugh that you started to have a little crush on him. The three of you began to hang out more often, and then one day, he asked you out. You said yes, of course (who wouldn't), and you've been dating since then.

He had always been fond of art. Painting, photography, and even sculpting. He wanted to have his own gallery one day, to show off his works, and it is about to come true.

Wooyoung found a decent place where he could set up the gallery and renovate it to his liking. He was the one who worked on everything, claiming he wanted everything to be perfect. That meant, you don't see each other often because he got busy with his gallery. He never told anyone the location, not even you, which you found a little odd, but never questioned him.

You just finished eating when he showed you something on his phone. It's a map with a picture of what looks like the outside of a gallery.

"It's done. The grand opening will be tomorrow." He started, gauging for your reaction.

"Already?! Does anyone else know about this? What if I'm the only one who shows up?" You flooded him with questions, more nervous than he is.

"Don't worry, I already sent out invitations to friends and family." He said with a chuckle while piching your cheeks, clearly amused.

You sighed, relieved that you wouldn't be the only one to witness this. You want the world to see how talented your boyfriend is, and he worked hard for everything to get to this point. Even though he said this was just a small achievement, you were still so proud of him. He can finally show off his love for art.

-~-

"You're here." Wooyoung said as he leaned in to kiss you on the cheek. You came a bit earlier than the time of the opening so you could be by his side.

"Finally, you got your own gallery. I'm so proud of you, Woo." You gave him a peck on the lips, earning you a small genuine smile from him.

You straightened the collar of his button-up and fixed his hair a bit to make him look more presentable. He smiled at you but you noticed that he looked a bit nervous. You held his hand and squeezed it, comforting him. He intertwined your fingers and guided you to the entrance.

After a while, people started to arrive one by one, family and friends, and even some random people who had taken an interest in what was happening in this new place.

Everyone was in awe at the simple yet elegant interior. The walls were off-white and the art pieces were placed perfectly. Everything is in the right place, the way they were arranged was pleasing to the eyes.

You looked around and noticed that the art pieces consisted of pictures and paintings of places very familiar to you—they were places you've been together before. There are also pictures and paintings of events that have transpired in your life. The memories came flooding in as you looked at each art piece. You looked around once more, you noticed a black screen in the middle of the gallery. It's off, what is it for? You asked yourself but brushed it off. One thing stood out though, it was a pink door leading to a room. It had its own spotlight, it also had a name on top, just like every piece here.

"Y/N." You read out loud. Why did it have your name on it? Also, why is it pink, your favorite color? And why does it have the word 'Private' beside the door?

Wooyoung was greeting everyone and thanking them for congratulating him when he noticed you looking at the pink door. He walked over to you and put his hand on your lower back.

"Wanna see what's inside?"

"Yes." You responded, curious as to what could be inside.

He took out what seemed like a remote from his pocket and pressed something on it while guiding you inside.

There were at least five of what you assumed were art pieces covered in red velvet blankets.

He removed the cover of the one on the left, revealing a painting of you grinning from ear to ear, holding a pack of your favorite gummy bear, with the name beside it, 'The most beautiful v(you).' This must've been the time he brought you your favorite snacks, that made you all excited.

Then, he removed the cover on all of them except the one in the middle. There was a picture of you sleeping, a painting of you gazing at the stars, and a sculpture of you, as in you, in your wholeness, naked body.

"Oh my god, Woo." You said, your voice small, overwhelmed with joy, and love, and—everything.

"Do you like it?" He asked, nervousness obvious in his tone.

"I love it!" You exclaimed as you hugged him.

"There's one more." He ushered you to get closer to it. When he finally removed the cover, you covered your mouth in shock.

It was a sculpture of him, on one bended knee, holding a small black velvet box. Woo took the box and copied the stance of the sculpture.

"Y/N, will you make me the luckiest man and marry me?"

It's finally happening. The man you love is proposing to you.

"You've given me all I could ever ask for. Yes, baby, I will marry you." You utter with tears in your eyes.

He carefully puts the ring on your ring finger, and yes, he bought your dream ring, he still remembers it even when you mentioned it only once, he remembered, like he always did.

He hugged you so tight you thought you would burst, and whispered, "I love you so much, my love. Thank you for everything."

"I love you more, Woo."

You went out of the room and everyone's congratulating you both.

Huh?

When your eyes caught the now turned-on screen in the middle. So that was what the remote was for.

"Woo!" You hit his arms slightly. Terrified of the thought that they must have seen the pieces inside.

"It only showed us, don't worry, I won't ever show those pieces to anyone, especially that one." He chuckled while jokingly shielding himself from your playful hit.

"Finally, Woo, you prepared so long for this. Congratulations." San said with a big smile, holding a glass of wine.

"You knew?" You asked San with one eyebrow raised.

"Yup, everyone knew, except you." He uttered with slight amusement in his tone.

Wooyoung sure knew how to throw surprises because you didn't expect this one bit. But you're happy he did, cause this became one of the best days in your life. The thought of marrying this man made you giddy.

Your mom hugged you and gave you a kiss on the cheek.

"I'm quite curious to know what's inside that." Your mom said, pointing at the pink door.

You and your fiancé looked at each other with knowing eyes and a huge grin.

Feedbacks are highly appreciated!!

[elllisaaa]

Update! I’m back a legal adult now, as of yesterday as promised.😖🤞🏽 I missed you everyday babes😫🫶🏽, so I have a birthday request, how about Bangchan birthday sex?😵‍💫🤞🏽‼️

hiii lovely ! ngl i missed seeing you on my notifications too 😖 wishing you a big happy birthday even if i'm little late and i hope this will be enough of a present ! enjoy reading !

BIRTHDAY GIRL - BANGCHAN

-> pairing : softdom!chan x sub!reader

-> words count : 1.1k

-> genre : smut

-> warnings : teasing, dirty talk, praising, body worship, use of 'good girl', oral (f. receiving), fingering

+ the way i'm depicting chan does not represent him, it's only a work of fiction.

-> 18+ content bellow, minors dni

-> reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated ! sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language

-> masterlist | skz masterlist

Your birthday has never been too important to you. Sure you had little parties with your closest friends and family members, but not too much. But for Chan, it was way more than any other day of the year. He wanted to surprise you, to remind you how loved you were and how proud of you he was. So everytime he had a day off, he spent it planning this and organizing everything so that your friends and family could be there. 

And all these sleepless nights trying to make everything perfect were definitely worth it when Chan saw the tears of joy in your eyes, and the biggest smile he had ever seen stretching out your lips. As he watched you laugh and be happy the whole night, talking with everyone he had invited, he couldn’t wait for the moment he’ll have you all for himself, couldn’t wait for the moment he’ll take care of his birthday girl. 

When you closed the door of your shared apartment after your best friend finally left, you couldn’t help another smile from blossoming on your face. Chan was often away or busy with his work, but everytime he did things like this, you were remembered of how much he loved you, of how much he cared for you. You decided to leave the mess of the living room and the kitchen for tomorrow morning, walking to your bedroom to finally rest and have some time alone with your boyfriend. 

“- Baby ? Where are you ?”

You frowned while searching for him in the empty room but not seeing him anywhere. However, you noticed a neat, black box displayed on the sheets of your bed. You approached it slowly, untying the white bow that was holding it together, and opening it to discover a beautiful lingerie set. It was in your favorite color, in the perfect shape to compliment every one of your curves. 

“- Do you like it ?”

You turned around when hearing Chan’s voice, seeing him wearing only a pair of shorts and leaning against the doorframe. 

“- If I like it ? Channie, it’s beautiful ! But it looks so expensive…”

Chan approached you, leaning down so that he could kiss your lips, hands coming down to hold your waist. 

“- You know it doesn’t matter to me, I just want to spoil you baby.

- You really are too good for me…”

You wrapped your arms around his neck, bringing him down so that you could kiss him back, softly at first, sweetly. But Chan had been holding back the whole night from letting his eyes wander all over your body, and now that he had you all for himself, he needed to feel you. Quickly the kiss got more and more heated, his hands slipping under the hem of your dress to find their spot on your ass, and yours coming up to play with the strand of his hair, tongues dancing along with each other. 

“- You look amazing, couldn’t stop watching you all night.

- Yeah ? I wore that dress for you, know that you like it a lot. 

- Fuck… Yes, I do. But I want to get a look of what’s underneath, will you let me ?”

You only kissed him as an answer, sweeping the lingerie box away from the sheets and getting him down on top of you. Neither one of you was in a rush, wanting to savor the taste of your skins. Chan slowly got you rid of your little black dress that has been driving him crazy, kissing every inch of your body up and down, caressing the delicate skin with a feather-like touch. You surely did some more dirtiest things before, but to have your boyfriend worship you wasn’t too bad either. The slightest touch had you shivering and moaning quietly. Chan lazily marked your skin from your neck, to your breast that he spent a lot of time sucking and massaging, and finally down to face your now dripping cunt. 

“- You’re so wet baby, want me that much ?”

The pout forming on your face had Chan giggling but he listened to your unspoken request, diving in your cunt and practically making out with it. He knew you loved it, and he loved it just as much, loved feeling your hands pulling on his hair when the pleasure was too much, loved having to hold you down so you stopped squirming away, loved hearing your broken moans for more. 

“- Channie, feels so good…”

You could feel the proud grin on his lips as he sucked on your clit harder, one of his fingers entering as a reward for voicing your emotions. And also because he loved to be praised, loved to have you put into words how good he was making you feel. His tongue lapping at your juices paired with the now two fingers pumping in and out of you had you close to your orgasm already. 

“- I’m so close Channie, can I cum please ?”

Your eyes were watery, feeling on the verge of crying as the pleasure was building up quickly, heating up your whole body. Chan detached himself from your pussy, his chin and lips covered in your slick, his gaze soft despite the smirk on his face when he looked back at you. 

“- Such a good girl asking for permission… Go on baby, cum on my fingers.”

This was all you needed to let go, the knot in your stomach snapping, covering his hand in your release. The sight of your fucked out face and your loud moans resonating in the bedroom were enough for Chan’s cock to leak precum, and for making him crave more of you. But tonight was all about you, tonight was all about what you wanted and needed, tonight was all about satisfying you. Chan knew he was not always here when you needed him due to his packed schedule, but he intended on changing that right now by spoiling you and making it up for all the times he came home late and left you hanging on your own fingers and toys to cum. 

And the smile on his face was telling you just that as he came up to your face, kissing you hungrily as his hands roamed all around your body once again. Chan was convinced that he would never get enough of you, of your taste, of your lips, of your hands on him. But for now, it was his responsibility to satisfy you, not yours. So he pinned your hands to the mattress, watching you restrain the little whimpers that were about to slip past your lips. 

“- Tonight is all about you baby, let me make you feel good all night and relax, okay ?”

-> i don't allow any copies, reposts or translations of my work.

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@minnies-babie @binwons @yoongles2025 @thicccurls @caitlyn98s @sharonxdevi @skz1-4-3 @bbgnyx @hann1bee @lil-kpopstan @iraisswiftie @puppy-minnie

[choerypetal]

Little Bird / Coriolanus Snow

summary: Being the Capitol's favorites subject has consequences. Consequences that subject to be paired with the most influential man in Panem entirely.

notes **reader is an idol/singer in Capitol's first attempt into making a group for each annual Hunger Games. but with snow's obsession into making you entirely his and with his job as mentoring lucy gray, he tries his very best, but fails miserably.

ps ; english isn't my first language so i apologize in advance for some minor errors and please do not copy my work without credit thank you!

Your connection with Snow encompassed diverse facets. At times, he exuded an irresistible charm, drawing you in effortlessly. Yet, in the next moment, his piercing blue eyes locked onto yours with audacious intent, as if daring anyone to approach and touch even the slightest expanse of your skin – a challenge few would ever contemplate. 

Being the Capitol's favorite came with its own set of challenges. Compliments on your skills or charisma were either sincere or fueled by envy, making it doubly difficult for those striving to surpass their yearly earnings. This aspect of Panem's functioning was something Coriolanus exploited way too much. The artificiality of the stage, adorned with makeup to project an illusion of wealth, highlighted what he found enduring. The ease with which one could become the favorite by merely speaking or moving to the latest musical rhythm was something Coriolanus himself could not keep his eyes away from. And that person was you. 

He despised witnessing other men vying for your attention, their eyes lighting up as soon as you entered the Capitol's theater. There was no denying that you were the favorite member among your group. However, during your debut, the spotlight only found you officially when it was announced that the Capitol's new favorite group would be welcoming a new member. Given your position at the Academy, your choices were limited – either mentoring a tribute and risk bringing shame to your family if they lost. Or become part of Panem's newest favored diversion. It wasn’t until the very next day, that many became obsessed with you. And as much as Coriolanus tried to oblige on that single though, he was afraid to admit that he too became a little too obsessed over you. 

To compound Coriolanus's discomfort, he had to endure the ceaseless styling rituals accompanying each new album or song released to the public. This entailed donning short skirts and crops, transforming your body into a specific attire as a statue to be admired for hours on end. For the hapless Coriolanus, sitting there was challenging enough, watching you perform with a self-assured smirk, reveling in every bit of skin. How the skirt would flare up and brush against your skin, how he wanted to feel such fantasy. From each moments of your act, while beads of sweat glistened across every inch of your body. He couldn't help but fantasize scenarios from scenarios that you would be his, envisioning the two most influential figures of the Capitol as the perfect pair. And that was only during the ceremony of the 10th Hunger Games. 

Post the 10th Hunger Games, a significant shift occurred. Lucy Gray's presence lingered in Coriolanus's thoughts, causing him to perceive you in a completely new light. You were constantly in his mind. Although you though, with hearing the constant rumors of a possible relationship between him and his tribute. While you continued to excel in your performances, earning the success both you and your group rightfully deserved, you were aware of Coriolanus's altered fate.

Once he had been sent back to District 12 after his victor, Lucy Gray, who was also a performer. He remembered occasionally, after the victory ceremony, how you had the opportunity to chat with Lucy Gray. Discovering that your old classmate may have developed feelings for her. As Coriolanus Snow’s proud smirk upon seeing the people he seemingly cared for interacting with each other. Only to be so blind by the fact that you had expressed prior feelings for him, but instead confidently expressed his plan to join forces and visit her in her District wasn’t what you had intended to hear. 

While you refrained from expressing any objections, your suspicions regarding the burgeoning emotions between the two of them proved well-founded. Little did you know, Coriolanus engaged in those actions merely to divert his thoughts from you, acknowledging he wouldn't have a chance with you. Lucy Gray became his chosen distraction. Simultaneously, he caught wind of a potential rumor suggesting you were seen intimately with another man. The revelation that this man wasn't him intensified his already pronounced obsession with you. However, this time, Lucy Gray played a role in assisting him.

The revelation of his truth dawned on him only upon his return to Panem. The snake bite's impact intensified, with only your silhouette haunting his thoughts. In this return, he presented a wholly transformed appearance – his hair slightly longer, adorned in his father's old crimson jacket, albeit somewhat intoxicated, attempting to erase all memory of you. What Snow remained oblivious to was your patient anticipation during his absence in District 12. It was Tigris who knocked on your door that very evening, sparing you from the surprise of his return. 

However, Snow chose to make his entrance at the stroke of midnight, reminiscent of the times when both of you would clandestinely navigate the Academy. In those intimate moments, he patiently bided his time for the Capitol streets to empty, stealthily entering through your bedroom window. Hours were spent in each other's arms, reveling in discussions about new projects, with his assurances that everything would be alright.

This time, however, an inebriated Snow had a different agenda beyond comforting cuddles for sleepless nights. His primary goal was to solidify your relationship officially. "If you don’t tell her, I will." Echoed Tigris’s voice in his mind upon seeing her cousin return from duty as a Peacekeeper. She was among the few who truly knew about the budding romantic connection between Coriolanus and you. She pleaded with her cousin to go ahead, noting. "She hasn't touched a man since the last time you spoke, you know." That last statement served as a testament to your unwavering fidelity towards him. It was only a matter of time before he knocked on your door that very night.

On the contrary, you took it upon yourself to tidy up the entire apartment. Anticipating Coriolanus's return, you were determined not to leave a single mess, mindful of both his and your own peace of mind. Despite the fact that chaos often defined your shared living space, when in each other's arms, you both found solace in tidiness and tranquility. However, as dinner passed and bedtime approached, you couldn't help but notice Coriolanus's absence. Was he running late, or was he entangled in some trouble that you would only learn about the next morning? Various questions raced through your mind as you attempted to drift off helplessly on the living room couch, with the TV's echo serving as a backdrop.

Coriolanus stood there silently, observing from a distance outside your apartment window. Anyone observing from afar would catch a glimpse of you nibbling at your cuticles – a habit he had learned you indulged in when he wasn't around, a realization that would later make him feel remorseful upon witnessing the marks it left on your fingers. In response, he would tenderly peck each bruise, a silent acknowledgment of your thoughts mirroring his own. However, this time, he chose to forgo surprising you with the cliché bouquet of flowers or any conventional gesture. After indulging in the contents of a second wine bottle before making his way to you, he had no plans of raiding the florist shop either. Knocking on your door with determination, he felt an unusual hesitation, a departure from his past boldness of entering and showering you with kisses. Contemplating the prospect of declaring you entirely as his, especially in his inebriated state, he wasn't entirely certain if you would fully trust his words. 

Luckily, you had left the door ajar for him, a gesture he expected. Upon entering, he was met with the familiar background echo of the TV, confirming his assumption that you were already asleep. Nostalgia washed over him as he recalled the mornings spent lounging in bed with you or embarking on early runs for coffee. Despite his aspirations to bring about change in Panem and restore his family's reputation by aspiring to become President, he understood that true fulfillment wouldn't come until he had you by his side entirely. Limping slightly due to the effects of his drunkenness, he made his way into the living room and began to softly whisper your name, until his gaze met your sleeping figure. "Y/N... My sweet bird."

His breath carried warmth that gently brushed against your cold skin. Despite the lingering scent of alcohol, indicating Snow had been drinking before his arrival, your eyes responded to the touch of his finger delicately tracing your cheek. "Coryo…" you murmured his name with a loving tone, reveling in the vulnerability of calling out to him. "Shh… I am here," he reassured you, prompting a soft smile to grace your lips at the sound of his comforting voice. A voice you had missed dearly, compelling you to slowly rise from the much-needed slumber after a demanding day. However, lately, without Snow's presence in your arms, the nights became sleepless and challenging to endure alone. Despite acknowledging this truth, there was a conflicting sensation, a twinge of discomfort knowing that Coriolanus relished the fact that without him, you felt incomplete. It was this dynamic that rendered the two of you an unforgettable pair, seemingly inseparable. 

“How I missed you so much.” He continued to say, with seeing your face arousing from your slumber, how he had missed kissing your soft lips each night before going to sleep. If it wasn’t for being a Peacekeeper back in District 12, he’d say he was damn for letting himself kiss Lucy Gray while thinking of you the entire time. “I missed you more, Coryo. Everytime, during performances and even in my relentless dreams.” 

A subtle smile played on his features as his fingers traced down your body, an unspoken desire evident in his every touch. His lips yearned to kiss every inch, a longing to finally claim you as his own. He envisioned proudly holding your hand in public, marking you as his and sending a clear message to other men about your ownership. "You want to know something?" The amusement in his voice prompted a soft giggle from you, appreciating his seemingly all-knowing manner of sharing information, despite the evident effects of his earlier drinking. "What, drunk boy?" You playfully teased, noting the light pink hue that adorned his cheeks—a clear sign of his inebriation. 

He vehemently denied it with a pout, his lips subtly mimicking a desire for a kiss. Coryo was just touch starved. "You know, I haven't been properly fed with love lately. Coryo has been away from his bird for far too long..." His voice deepened, the intensity of his gaze barely allowing for a blink, making it abundantly clear who he desired: you. An intensifying blush crept on your features this time. Of course you knew your history with him, a caring gentleman who made sure to take care of the one he loved most. But this Coriolanus, objected something in you that you enjoyed seeing probably a little more. To be completely under his control. To bow to his command. 

"And as much as I hate to admit..." Your voice took on a gentle tone, a stark contrast to the confidence you exuded in the public eye. Sensing his fingers trailing down your body, from your hips to your lips, he couldn't help but notice their softness, prepared to be pampered at his command. However, he had to restrain his temptations for a moment, feeling his teeth sink into the bottom of his lip. You continued. "I might have been a naughty bird, moaning your name during sleepless nights, hoping you'd come save me from my little cage. You have no idea how eagerly I waited for you to come back." 

Honestly, Coriolanus found himself just as taken aback by your confession, despite the obvious history between the two of you. The mere thought of you in bed, adorned in barely anything, accentuating your beautiful form, fingers exploring sensually. The vivid image of you pleasuring yourself, uttering his name amidst a chorus of enticing sounds, drove him to instant madness. Tonight, he was determined to lavish you with everything he could muster—to claim you as his own, leaving marks on your body that not even the most skilled makeup artist could conceal come morning. Without explicitly professing love in the conventional sense, it was evident that Coriolanus and you were destined to be together. In times of need or distraction, both of you instinctively knew where to find solace in each other's presence. 

"I want you, Coryo..." you pleaded, your fingers clutching his shirt, the skirt from today's performance riding up slightly. Upon arriving from work, you had removed your underwear just for him—his eyes alone to witness, taste, and appreciate. His hands gripped firmly on your arse, and it was his turn to shift positions, settling onto the couch with you atop him. Your blouse, with a revealing cleavage, owed its allure to Tigris, your stylist. You couldn't help but wonder if the same effect would have been achieved without her touch. Extricating yourself from his grasp, you observed his lips curling into a mischievous smirk. It was a smirk that served as a reminder, and in that instant, you knew that tonight, you were unequivocally his—his and his alone, his cherished little bird.

"I can't wait to finally show my little bird what I can do."

Coriolanus spoke those words with genuine anticipation. It was undeniably the most memorable night, and he intended to recreate it repeatedly. After all, you were his little bird—his to cherish, tourmate, and play with as he pleased.

[boringsickness]

thinking of Tim taking Bernard to a family dinner, the first official one after Bernard discovered who was who. The first one where Bernard could see their honest sides.

Tim is a bit worried because he knows his family. Yes, they bickered but in previous dinners they tried to be as civil as possibile. Treating it like a mission or a formal Gala, to avoid scaring Tim's new boyfriend.

But now Bernard wasn't so /new/ anymore and they didn't need to act like a perfect (as perfect as they can be) family.

Bernard spoke a little with all of them, holding Tim's hand for almost all the time before the meal was served. Then, the chaos started and Bernard couldn't put a word in. He didn't even want to.

He let his eyes wander: Babs was laughing softly with Dick who was making faces at her girlfriend while simultaneously teasing Damian. Duke was rolling his eyes or blinking perplexed at one of weird Jason's fact. Tim was butting in, escalating the situation just for the sake of going against Jason. Stephanie, who loved some good old chaos, added fuel to the already going fire and Cass was looking fondly around the table. Sometimes she shared a glance with Babs who was now rolling her eyes and taking bets with Duke in how long the dinner will transform in a battlefield. Bruce chimed in a few times when Tim touched a few sensitive topics or when Jason cursed way too loudly (Alfred did not like that) or when Dick was about to ruffle Damian's hair or...a lot more than "a few", now Bernard realized.

and in all of this, Bernard couldn't help but stare at his boyfriend. He knew a lot about him but this side, this wild and free one, was particularly enjoyable. It was a mix of pettiness, adrenaline, fondness and bitterness. It was the result of years of conflict and battles shared with his family. It was difficult for Bernard to describe it but it could now see it all, in his boyfriend's body language and in the others', too.

They were yelling at each other, they were insulting and laughing and they were still able to stay in the room as if it was normal. Normal after more than a few deaths, attempts of murders and criminal activity (in stopping and creating them.)

Bernard suddenly found happiness, and maybe a little bit of envy (he wished his family was so united, even in craziness), bubble up and get out in form of a pure and loud laugh.

Tim stopped mid sentence, turning toward him. The arguments seemed to cease, too, while other members of the family looked at Bernard with confusion (not Cass, Cass and Duke seemed to know what was happening).

"Bernard, baby?"

Tim looked unsure and Bernard fought off another round of laughters. He raised one hand as if shooing away the worry.

"Sorry, I'm so sorry. I'm just happy to see all of this unfold." He shrugged, almost embarassed.

He could now understand how crazy it sounded which rude, have they heard themselves?

Damian muttered something and Jason simply said "blondie is surely made for you" (Bernard was not sure how to take it) but most importantly, beside the fond and confused and even perplexed looks of the others, Tim looked at him with a soft smile. Then, he laughed too. It was smaller, more private, as if it just for him.

and it was because Tim got it, he always knew about what was going on in Bernard's mind.

"weirdo." Tim said, fondness more than palpable.

"y'know I'm at dinner with your family, right?" and he was grinning, not caring about the consequences of the sentence since said family was looking at them.

He heard a soft "hey!" and a bunch of arguing (not surprisingly) and some scoffing and a lot, so much more, noises.

"oops?" Bernard added, toward him who was now sitting back down (he stood up before, caught up in a petty fight with Jason) and took his hand to leave a peck on the back of it.

"menace." Tim whispered, on his skin, but Bernard could easily understand what he meant.('i love you.')

Bernard used the free hand to cup his cheek, the others' voices now just a background.

('I love you, too.')

[deathmetalunicorn1]

hii!! could a ror family with a 9 year old reader that is like William James Sidis(but they don't know how smart he is)

until some of his family members was called to his school(Nikola, Beelzebub, Hades & adam)the principal wanted them to know how much potential y/n had,as y/n was found multiple times easily solving harvard level math questions even lecturing teachers about his theory's about 4th dimensional body's as if it was common knowledge, even correcting teachers answers,

and was found writing a book with an unknown language which y/n revealed that it was a language he created called vendergood The language is based on Latin and Greek, but drew from German, French and other Romance languages... after that meeting Nikola would spend even more time with y/n ,taking the child with him every time Thomas Edison, Issac newton, Galileo Galilei, Albert Einstein, Marie curie & Alfred Nobel would visit, Nikola & the others would try & figure out why y/n was so smart.

-When your school called your massive family, none of them could ever imagine why they were being asked to come in as quickly as possible.

-You were a good kid, albeit a bit quiet, but you never got into trouble or did anything that warranted any sort of disciplinary action. So why was your school calling?!

-They immediately thought the worse, thinking you had gotten into a fight, as in someone else beat you up, as anger quickly filled many of them as they were quick to descend upon the school.

-To their surprise you weren’t in the office when they arrived, you were in the library, reading contently, as that’s what the office staff told them, but it was the principle who brought them into a meeting room to have a discussion.

-He had in his hands all your recent tests, all with perfect scores, which your family was proud of, but it was the next test he pulled out that was shocking, “This is a mock university entrance exam that we gave to Y/N just to see how they would do, and they got a perfect score.”

-Your family was stunned as Nikola took the packet, seeing the difficult math equations, science diagrams, and foreign languages, each section with a perfect score!

-They knew you were smart- but this smart?!

-Your principle nodded, “Y/N is a prodigy- they were even able to prove to several university professors that this wasn’t a fluke or a result of cheating- they gave Y/N several questions in the different areas of this test and Y/N solved all of them!”

-Nikola was beaming with pride, hearing how smart you were, but it was also unusual, why were you so smart? How were you so smart and they didn’t realize this?!

-Your principle brought your family in to not only share this revelation, but to recommend you being taking out of elementary school and go straight to university, as many of the professors wanted you to learn under them!

-Adam was all for this idea, however, “We will need to discuss things with Y/N first. This will be their decision.” The principle agreed and directed your family to the library, where they found you with several, very advanced, books on Latin and other difficult language books.

-You were confused, seeing your family, “It’s not a family day, is it?” Nikola quickly swept you into his arms, spinning you around, making you squeal with delight, “I’m so proud of you!!”

-You were confused until you all sat down, after the librarian yelled at Nikola for causing a ruckus, and they explained why they were there.

-Your eyes were wide, hearing that the university professors you met wanted you to come to their school instead, as they wanted to nurture your intelligent mind, but it would be your decision if you wanted to go.

-You were a little hesitant, not wanting to leave this school as you enjoyed the fun you were having there, despite many of the other kids being mean to you for being an ‘egghead’ which you learned was a mean word for someone who was smart.

-You asked for some time to think, which they agreed to, and they took you home for the day, since you did all the classwork for the day.

-Nikola kidnapped you away to the research facility he shared with all the other scientists like Newton, Einstein, and all the others, with Beelzebub following you two.

-Nikola held you up like the Lion King to the other geniuses, “Y/N is one of us!!” you were a bit confused but when he sat you down, getting an empty whiteboard and put down an insanely complex math equation before he turned to you, handing you the chalk with a bright smile.

-You looked over the equation, after Issac got you a step ladder as you were a little short for your age, and you got to work, calculating the equation within moments before you circled the answer.

-A roar of cheers escaped the scientists, spooking you just slightly before you beamed, feeling happy that they were so happy before Edison picked you up, spinning you around, praising you which made you beam brightly.

-Beelzebub then brought up the big question they were all wanting to know, “So Y/N- how is it that you’re so smart?” you looked over at him and you tilted your head to the side, a bit confused, “I dunno- I just read what’s in front of me and I remember it. I started looking at new stuff when I learned all the stuff everyone else in my class did and… yeah.”

-Instantly you were sitting on a large plush chair as the scientists were all around the lab, writing down equations and theories as to what could explain this phenomenon- shouting across the lab at one another and talking about things you were able to understand with ease.

-You decided to read over the brochures of the university that the professors gave to you so you could do a bit of research on your own, to decide if you were going to take up their offer or not.

[imyourbratzdoll]

Hey Cheleah (your name is so AMAZING 🤩) recently I started to read your stories and they’re incredibly perfect! Could I request one? With Mr. Ari Levinson?

I love watch tiktok and I dont know why, but my “for you” have a lot of videos with quotes to said on the bed like “shh, be quiet for me?” So… could you write with a lot dirty talk? 🥺 thank you so much and I’m sorry if this get confused, english is not my first language

hello honey, thank you so much! you're so sweet. I apologise for taking so long, but I hope you like what I wrote and you're english is good!

summary - you and your dad's best friend ari have been sneaking around, and he decides to fuck you at the family party.

warning - smut, swearing, creampie, breeding kink, semi-public, dirty talk.

18+ only please, the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips

“Shh, baby girl. You gotta be quiet for me.” Ari growls into your ear, and his hand covers your mouth as he thrusts deep into you, “You don’t want everyone outside to look over, do you? Don’t want your family to find out you’re letting your dad’s best friend split you in half every single day.” Your wide eyes stare out the window, tears preventing your vision from seeing the many people standing there, chatting away, oblivious to your body pressed against the window. 

You whimper as Ari grips your hips, slowly grinding into you. He holds you close to him, grunting into your ear as you squeeze him, pulsing around him as he buries himself deep inside you. Ari could remember clearly how this had started. You had finished college and came home for a break as you looked for a good job. He hadn’t seen you since you had left, and god. Ari felt his breath leave him when you walked in, and the teasing began. He had noticed how innocent and naive you seemed, so he decided to mess with you, make you a putty mess. It was so easy to make you his. One night, you confessed you always had a tiny crush on him, which leads to now. You two secretly see each other, him taking you on dates and then fucking you deeply wherever and whenever he can. Ari hopes you’d become pregnant with the many times he fills you, never cumming anywhere but inside your cunt. 

“You like fucking your dad's best friend, baby? Like sneaking around?” You nod, head resting back onto his shoulder, keeping your eyes on the party outside, knowing you’d be punished if you looked away. “My naughty girl, begging for my cock. Always a good little cockslut for me.” He groans, feeling you clench around him at his words. Ari begins to pick up his pace, pushing you against the window more as he pounds into you. His hand slowly moves from your hip up your sides, grazing your plump breasts before cupping your chin and turning your head toward him. Ari leans forward and captures your lips with his, eyes closing and soft sounds escape you as his kiss makes your mind fuzzy. “Does my pretty girl want to cum? Want me to fill you until you’re leaking my cum and make you stand out there as you’re knickers become soaked with me?” 

You whimper, nodding against his lips. “Yes, please, Ari. Yes.” You moan against him, moving your hips back as your core clenches, your eyes rolling to the back of your head, and your arousal leaks from you, cumming around Ari’s thick member. 

Ari groans, gripping your cheeks, pressing his lips against yours as he feels his end approaching. “Good girl, my good girl. I’m cumming.” He grunts, and white hot cum spurts out of his mushroom tip, filling you to the brim, and Ari secretly prays that this will take. You are his, and you will always be his. “Fuck, baby. You feel so good.” His other hand moves and rests on your abdomen as he continues to cum, head falling forward and resting against your forehead. His cock begins to soften, and he slowly pulls out, tucking himself into his jeans and moving your knickers back into place, smirking as he pictures you walking around full of him. 

You sigh happily, blinking up at him and smiling as he leans down and brings you into another kiss. Your hand rests on his chest before he pulls away and smiles down at you. “C’mon, baby. Let’s go back out. We don’t want them to get suspicious, do we?” You pout, gnawing on your bottom lip, and Ari grips your chin. “What’s wrong?”

“I–I love you, Ari….” Your heart nearly pounds out of your chest as you confess your deepest feelings to the older man, afraid he doesn’t feel the same towards you and only wants you for sex. 

Ari grins big. “I love you too, sugar.” You both happily sigh as he leans down and kisses your forehead.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[keehomania]

feel the rhythm (리듬 느껴) – jung hoseok (정호석)

✧.* 18+

to dance is to transcend the boundaries of the mundane, where each movement becomes a brushstroke on the canvas of existence. it's an unspoken language, a symphony of the body that speaks directly to the soul. the subtle arch of a back, the delicate glide of a hand, the powerful leap into the air—all gestures that come together to form an intimate dialogue between the dancer and the rhythm that guides them. time ceases to matter, and the dancer becomes both the painter and the painting, expressing emotions that words could never capture. it reveals the deepest truths of the human spirit, inviting all who witness it to feel, to dream, and to connect.

it was impossible to dance without feeling—the music, the emotions awoken—everything. everything mattered. all the greats knew it, whether it was michael jackson or lee taemin, they enjoyed what they did and they perfected it, because they knew how to feel. each note of the music was a heartbeat, each beat a call to move, to express, to live within the moment. the floor beneath their feet became a sanctuary, a sacred space where they poured out their souls, leaving a piece of themselves with every step. this was not just performance; it was raw, unfiltered emotion made visible. to dance was to connect with something larger, something profound. it was an unending pursuit of grace and power, a testament to the beauty of human expression.

“you're bending your knees too much,” you never meant to come off as strict or demanding. in fact, you wanted to do quite the opposite, but you liked to push him. you liked to push him, because you knew he was a natural talent. you knew it, he knew it—everybody knew it. you had been by the group's side ever since their debut; eleven years of choreographing their songs, eleven years as not just the woman who planned out their dances, because you were practically family to them.

there was no favoritism, either. you made sure to work as a team, to push their limits as a whole. you loved them the same and made sure never to critique one member more than the rest, you knew just how to play fair. hoseok just happened to be their best dancer, and everybody was well aware of it. sure, all of them could work with the same choreographies, but none of them could execute them the way he did. it was a matter of passion, above all else. he never flaunted it; in fact, he was too humble. it was one of his most infuriating traits.

his eyes dropped to his knees, flickering between his pose and yours, paying close attention to what he had previously missed. “just a little bit, you see?” he watched your form carefully, noticing the way you put the slightest of pressure on your knees, bending them to the point where it was barely noticeable, before transitioning into the next step. this time, it was your turn to watch. he kept his eyes glued, moving with grace. this time, he did it just right.

“good job, just like that,” you had found yourself showering him with praise. most of the time, you did it because it was well-deserved. sometimes, you did it just to see the smile on his face. like the one he had on just then, it made you smile, too. “again,” you instructed, stepping back to give him room. “from the top.”

hoseok nodded, a small smile lingering on his lips as he reset his position. the music started, and his body moved with the fluidity and precision you had come to expect from him. every step, every turn, every isolated movement was a testament to his dedication and raw talent. you could see the determination in his eyes, the fire that drove him to perfect every detail. as he danced, you felt a familiar warmth spread through you—a mix of pride and something deeper, something you rarely allowed yourself to acknowledge. the way he danced was mesmerizing, and you couldn't help but be drawn in by his passion and intensity. it was as if the world faded away, leaving just the two of you and the rhythm that bound you together.

“perfect,” you said softly, as the music came to an end. he was breathing hard, a thin sheen of sweat on his brow, but his eyes were bright and focused. “thanks,” he replied, a hint of bashfulness in his smile. “your guidance always makes a difference.”

you walked closer, your footsteps echoing in the otherwise silent studio. “you're the one who makes the difference, hoseok. i can only point the way; you're the one who brings it to life.” there was a moment of silence, charged with an unspoken tension. you could see it in the way his eyes lingered on yours, in the way his breath hitched slightly as you approached. it was subtle, but it was there—an intensity that went beyond the dance.

“you make it easy to feel,” he said quietly, his gaze unwavering. “the way you understand the music, the way you push us to connect with it—it's like you see inside us.” your heart skipped a beat at his words, the sincerity in his voice leaving you momentarily speechless. you had always pushed yourself to understand each member, to help them find their own connection to the choreography. but with him, it had always been different, deeper.

“it's because you let me,” you replied just as quietly. “you let me see the real you when you dance. it's a gift, hoseok, and it's beautiful.”

the intensity in his eyes deepened, and for a moment, it felt like the air between you crackled with energy. then he broke the gaze, looking down with a shy smile. “let's go again,” he said, but this time, his voice was softer, almost intimate. “let's,” you agreed, stepping back but feeling closer to him than ever.

he moved with the same grace and intensity, but now, each movement felt charged with an unspoken emotion, a palpable tension that neither of you could ignore. you mirrored his steps, guiding him with subtle cues and gentle corrections. the synergy between you was almost electric, and as the music swelled, it felt like the rest of the world had melted away, leaving just the two of you and the rhythm that bound you.

the song neared its climax, and you watched him closely, noting the slight adjustments he made, the way his body responded to the music with a fluidity that seemed almost otherworldly. you couldn't help but be mesmerized by him, by the way he embodied every beat, every note. it was as if you were dancing with the very essence of the music itself.

as the final notes faded, you found yourself breathless, not just from the physical exertion, but from the intensity of the connection you had just shared. hoseok's eyes met yours, and for a moment, it felt like he was about to say something, something that could change everything.

before he could speak, the studio door swung open, and a voice broke the spell. “hoseok!”

you turned to see lee bona, his girlfriend, standing in the doorway. she was beautiful, with an effortless elegance that made her presence commanding. you had met her a few times, but it was clear she wasn't fond of you. the way she looked at you now, with thinly veiled jealousy, made that abundantly clear. hoseok's expression softened as he saw her, and he immediately moved toward her, leaving you standing alone in the center of the studio. “bona, hey,” he greeted, his voice warm and affectionate.

she smiled at him, but there was a sharpness in her eyes when they flicked to you. “i thought i'd surprise you,” she said, wrapping her arms around his neck. you forced a polite smile, trying to ignore the pang of discomfort that settled in your chest. “hi, bona.”

“hello,” she replied, her tone cool. she turned her attention back to hoseok. “ready to go?” he glanced back at you, an apologetic look in his eyes. “sorry, i have to go. we'll pick this up later?”

“of course,” you replied, keeping your voice steady. “go ahead.”

he nodded and, with one last glance, left the studio with bona. as the door closed behind them, you stood there, the silence of the empty studio pressing in on you. you replayed the last few minutes in your mind, the intensity of the dance, the connection you felt, and then the abrupt interruption. how could he have a girlfriend and yet be so intimate with you? the thought twisted something inside you, a mix of frustration and confusion.

to clear your mind, you turned the music back on and started dancing again, but your movements were off, lacking the precision and grace you usually prided yourself on. the frustration bled into your dance, making each step feel jagged and unrefined. you could feel it in your body, the anger and disappointment seeping into your movements.

you didn't realize you had an audience until you heard a familiar voice. “you're dancing like you have two left feet,” namjoon teased from the doorway. you stopped abruptly, turning to face him. “how long have you been standing there?”

“long enough to see something's bothering you,” he said, walking into the studio with that easy, knowing smile of his. “got a hunch it might be hoseok's girlfriend.”

you scowled at him, trying to brush off the accusation. “it's like you want me to lose my job— strictly professional, joon.”

he raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “sure, if you say so. but your dancing says otherwise.” you wanted to argue, to defend the professionalism you always upheld, but you knew he was right. the emotions were too raw, too close to the surface. “it's complicated.”

namjoon gave you a sympathetic look. “i get it. but you know, taking a break might help. we've got the next few days off, and we're heading to a bar tonight. you should come.” you hesitated, the thought of socializing feeling overwhelming right now. but his smile was encouraging, and you knew he was right—you needed to clear your head. “alright, i'll come.”

“good,” he said, clapping you on the shoulder. “we'll see you tonight then. and hey, try not to think about it too much. things have a way of working themselves out.” you nodded, watching as he left the studio. alone again, you took a deep breath and let it out slowly. namjoon was right. for now, all you could do was dance, let the music guide you, and hope that the rest would fall into place.

the evening came, and you prepared for a night out, hoping that some time away from the studio might clear your head. you put on a simple but stylish outfit, something that would let you blend in yet still feel confident. the bar wasn't too far from the studio, so you made your way there, your thoughts a tangled mess of frustration and confusion.

as you entered the bar, you immediately spotted the group. they had secured a large table in a corner, and you made your way over, greeting each of them with a forced smile. the atmosphere was lively, the air filled with chatter, laughter, and the hum of background music. it felt like a world apart from the quiet intensity of the studio, but the tension you carried with you seemed to cling, regardless.

hoseok was already there, seated with his girlfriend by his side. his eyes met yours as you approached, and for a split second, the world seemed to shrink around you. there was something electric in his gaze, a reminder of the connection you had shared earlier. but it was quickly broken when taehyung, always quick with a compliment, spoke up.

“so, your performance with taemin?” taehyung’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “it's an understatement to say you killed it.”

the table erupted in praise, with jimin and yoongi both chiming in to agree. the enthusiasm was palpable, and you managed a genuine smile, though the praise felt hollow. you were used to being recognized for your work, but the absence of hoseok’s usual support stung more than you had anticipated.

jungkook, ever the tease, leaned in with a smirk. “so, what’s the deal with taemin? you two seem pretty close. maybe more than just coworkers?” you laughed it off, the sound feeling forced. “no, it’s nothing like that. we just have a good working relationship, that’s all.”

hoseok’s silence was almost palpable, and it was unlike him. normally, he would have been the first to voice his support or offer a playful comment. instead, he stayed quiet, a tight-lipped expression on his face that made you feel uneasy. then, to your dismay, he finally spoke up with a tone that felt almost accusatory. “she isn’t crazy; that would be totally unprofessional.”

the words stung more than you expected, cutting through you with a sharpness that made you flinch. you forced a nod and tried to mask your disappointment. without saying another word, you excused yourself and made your way to the bar itself, desperately needing a drink to calm your nerves.

you ordered something strong, hoping it would dull the edge of your hurt. as you waited, you could feel hoseok’s eyes on you, even from across the room. it was a constant reminder of the tension that seemed to hang between you like a thick fog.

namjoon noticed your departure and followed you to the bar. he joined you as you sipped your drink, his presence both a comfort and a distraction. “you okay?” he asked, his voice gentle but perceptive. you managed a shrug, trying to seem nonchalant. “yeah, just needed a break.”

he didn’t buy it, but he didn’t push. instead, he leaned in, a glimmer of an idea in his eyes. “you know, i think i might have something that could take your mind off things. my friend wonho is working on a solo track, and he needs help with the choreography. would you be interested in collaborating with him?”

you hesitated, the thought of diving into a new project both appealing and daunting. but the distraction might be exactly what you needed. “i’d love to,” you said finally, a genuine smile spreading across your face. “thank you for thinking of me.”

namjoon’s expression softened, and he pulled you into a quick hug. “you're our girl, dancing's your thing. of course i'd ask you.”

as you made your way back to the table, your mind was already spinning with ideas for wonho’s track. you knew that this was a chance to refocus, to move forward from the confusion and disappointment of the evening. and although the night was far from over, you felt a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, you could find a way to balance the complexity of your feelings with the passion for your craft.

the next day, the dance studio was alive with activity. the boys were immersed in practice, their movements synchronized in a display of impressive skill and energy. you were usually a central part of these sessions, but today, your absence was noticeable. hoseok seemed particularly restless. his eyes darted to the door every few seconds, as if expecting you to walk in at any moment. it was clear that your absence was affecting him more than he let on. he performed each step with a certain rigidity, a subtle but noticeable contrast to his usual fluidity.

namjoon, who was busy adjusting the playlist, finally broke the silence. “just so you all know, (y/n) is working with wonho on his solo track today. she’s helping him with the choreography.”

the announcement was met with a chorus of supportive remarks and curious glances. taehyung and jin voiced their encouragement enthusiastically, while yoongi and jungkook nodded in approval. however, hoseok’s reaction was markedly different. he remained silent, his face betraying a hint of something—perhaps jealousy or frustration. his movements, which had been sharp and precise before, now seemed to lack the usual confidence, as if he was struggling to find his rhythm without your presence.

the practice session dragged on, and it became increasingly apparent that hoseok was out of sync, his performance reflecting the internal turmoil he was evidently experiencing. the studio buzzed with energy, but his mood cast a shadow over the atmosphere.

back in wonho’s studio, the environment was different—intimate and focused. he was a striking presence, his muscular build and handsome features adding to the allure of the space. the track he played was a vibrant, engaging mix of beats and melodies, capturing your attention immediately. as you listened, the rhythm sparked a flurry of ideas in your mind.

wonho, noting your engaged expression, smiled warmly. “so, what do you think?” you took a deep breath, trying to articulate your thoughts. “the track is amazing. it’s got this incredible energy, and i think it could really move people.”

he leaned in slightly, curiosity evident in his eyes. “is something on your mind? you look like you’re thinking about something more than just choreography.”

it was then that the lyrics of the song began to make themselves heard more clearly—romantic, heartfelt, and deeply personal. they spoke of love, longing, and vulnerability, and you couldn’t help but think of hoseok. the connection you had with him, the moments you shared, seemed to echo in the song’s verses, making your heart ache with an intensity you hadn’t anticipated.

seeing the change in your expression, wonho chuckled softly. “is the song that bad?” you shook your head quickly, trying to dispel any misunderstanding. “oh, no, not at all. it's actually beautiful. but the lyrics—you must really love the girl you wrote it for.”

his laughter was warm and knowing. “loved, actually. we all need our hearts broken at least once. it helps us understand the depths of emotion and fuels our craft.”

his words resonated with you. you had always known that art and emotion were deeply intertwined, but hearing it from someone who had clearly experienced such passion and pain firsthand struck a chord. you pondered his insight, considering how heartbreak and longing were universal experiences that shaped the art of dance just as much as they did music.

“thanks for sharing that,” you said, a touch of gratitude in your voice. “it’s really insightful.” he nodded, a look of understanding in his eyes. “of course. it’s all part of the journey. now, let’s get to work on this choreography. i’m excited to see what we can create together.”

as the day wore on, the intensity of your focus in wonho's studio created a palpable buzz of creativity. the music played, its infectious beat filling the space with an energy that pushed you to explore new movements and ideas. you felt a deep sense of connection with the track, and as you freestyled, you let your body respond to the rhythm naturally.

the studio was a sanctuary, its large mirrors reflecting your every move as you danced. you moved with fluidity and passion, the music guiding your steps as you interpreted the emotions of the song. each movement seemed to flow effortlessly into the next, and you could see that he was mesmerized by your performance. his eyes followed you with a mixture of admiration and curiosity, clearly impressed by the way you embodied the music.

as the track continued, you paused to catch your breath and turned to wonho. “when i listen to this song, i see a story unfolding—you can really tell you put your heart into it.” he nodded, absorbing your words. “that’s exactly what i hoped for with this track. i’m glad it’s coming across that way.”

he took a deep breath and stepped onto the floor, beginning to dance to the music. his movements were solid but lacked the fluidity you had come to expect from him. there was a hint of hesitation in his steps, as if he was holding back. “i’m sorry if my dancing isn’t up to par,” he said, his voice tinged with self-deprecation. “i’m just trying to match the energy of the track, but i feel like it’s not quite there.”

you watched him with a critical eye but offered a reassuring smile. “no, it’s not shabby at all. your movements are strong and controlled, and you have a natural rhythm that really complements the song. it’s just a matter of getting more comfortable with the dance. you’ve got a lot of potential.”

his face brightened at your praise, and he seemed to find a new confidence in your words. with renewed determination, he threw himself into the dance with greater enthusiasm, his movements becoming more expressive and in tune with the music. it was clear that your encouragement had a significant impact on him, and the energy in the room shifted to a more dynamic and creative flow.

as the hours passed, you continued to work closely with him, shaping the choreography and refining the details. you found yourself deeply engaged in the process, enjoying the collaborative effort and the creative synergy that flowed between you. with each passing moment, the choreography began to take shape, the intricate movements and transitions coming together to create a compelling visual narrative.

by the end of the day, you had crafted a substantial majority of the choreography. the routine was vibrant and expressive, capturing the essence of his track while allowing room for individual interpretation. both of you were satisfied with the progress, and the atmosphere in the studio was one of accomplishment and mutual respect.

as you wrapped up, he turned to you with a warm smile. “thank you so much for your help today. i couldn’t have done this without you.” you returned his smile, feeling a genuine sense of satisfaction. “it was my pleasure. the track is incredible, and it was great working with you on this.”

his gratitude was evident as he stepped forward and gave you a hug. the embrace lingered a bit longer than you might have expected, but you could sense his appreciation and warmth. for a moment, you found yourself enveloped in his presence, the hug carrying an unexpected intensity.

when he finally pulled back, you smiled at him, trying to keep the moment light. “why don’t you come to the studio tomorrow? we can show namjoon and the boys the dance. i think they’d love to see it.” wonho’s eyes lit up with excitement. “that sounds great! i’d love to. thanks for the invitation.”

you exchanged a few more pleasantries and packed up your things, feeling a renewed sense of purpose. the collaboration with him had been both invigorating and rewarding, and you looked forward to sharing the results with namjoon and the rest of the team. he had done you a favor, successfully giving you the perfect distraction.

the next day, the studio was bustling with activity as the boys prepared for their practice session. the atmosphere was filled with anticipation and excitement, not just for the usual routines but also for the special showcase you had promised. as you walked into the studio with wonho by your side, the energy in the room shifted. the boys, who had been engrossed in their own discussions, looked up and greeted you with enthusiastic smiles.

“hey, everyone! i’m excited to introduce you all to wonho,” you announced with a bright smile. “he’s been working on a solo track, and we’ve put together some choreography that we’d love to share with you.”

namjoon’s eyes lit up with genuine interest as he walked up to his friend, greeting him with a smile. “awesome! can’t wait to see what you’ve come up with.”

the rest of the boys gathered around, their expressions ranging from curiosity to eagerness. all of them were practically animated, their faces practically glowing with anticipation. they exchanged excited glances, while the atmosphere felt charged with a positive buzz. hoseok, however, stood apart from the group, his posture rigid and his expression noticeably cold. it was evident that he was struggling to mask his jealousy. he avoided eye contact, his gaze fixed on the floor as if deep in thought. his mood was palpable, casting a subtle shadow over the otherwise upbeat environment.

with everyone’s attention now focused on the dance floor, you and wonho took your places. the music started, and as the track played, you began to move with a fluidity that matched the rhythm. he followed your lead, his movements synchronized with yours in a dance that was both captivating and dynamic. the choreography was intricate, a blend of powerful movements and tender moments. as the routine progressed, you felt the connection between you and him deepening, the dance becoming a dialogue of its own.

the final segment of the routine featured a particularly intimate move, a moment where wonho’s face came close to yours, his arm wrapped around your waist while your arm rested around his neck. it was a close, personal space that spoke volumes without the need for words.

as you and him executed the move, the rest of the boys erupted into cheers and applause, their excitement evident. the clapping and shouting filled the studio, a testament to the impact of the performance. however, hoseok remained unmoved. he watched the dance with a look of barely contained irritation, his expression darkening as the routine came to its climactic end.

when the final beat of the track echoed through the studio, wonho pulled away with a grin, clearly pleased with the reaction. you joined in the applause, your heart racing from the intensity of the performance. the boys continued to cheer, their enthusiasm unwavering.

it was in that moment that you noticed hoseok’s abrupt departure. he slipped out of the studio quietly, his departure almost unnoticed by the others who were still caught up in the excitement of the moment. the change in atmosphere was subtle but undeniable—his absence left a void, a silence that seemed to seep into the corners of the studio.

unable to shake off the uneasy feeling, you excused yourself from the group and stepped out into the hallway. the corridor was quiet, the distant hum of the studio music a faint echo against the walls. you followed the path hoseok had taken, your footsteps soft against the polished floor.

when you found him, he was leaning against the wall, his posture rigid and his expression unreadable. he was close to the door, and the hallway was dimly lit, casting shadows that seemed to enhance the tension in the air. “hoseok,” you called out softly, approaching him with a concerned look. “is everything alright?”

he didn’t immediately respond, his gaze fixed ahead, avoiding your eyes. the silence stretched between you, filled with an intensity that was almost palpable. the air seemed to thicken, charged with unspoken emotions. you took another step closer, your voice tinged with worry. “is something wrong? you left so suddenly.”

he turned his head slightly, his face close to yours but still distant. the coldness in his demeanor was striking, a stark contrast to the warmth of the studio. “i have to go,” he said, his voice low and edged with finality.

the words were simple, but they carried a weight that left you momentarily speechless. you could see the conflict in his eyes, the struggle between the emotions he was trying to hide and the reality of the situation. there was a distance between you, both physical and emotional, that felt almost unbearable.

before you could say anything further, he pushed off the wall and turned away, walking briskly down the hallway. his footsteps echoed in the silence, a sound that seemed to resonate with the intensity of the moment. you watched him leave, feeling a mix of confusion and frustration. the confrontation had been brief, but it left a lingering sense of unease. the hallway felt colder now, his absence creating a void that was difficult to fill.

hoseok stepped out of the studio, the cool air of the evening brushing against his face. the weight of the conversation with you lingered in his mind, intertwining with the knowledge of his upcoming meeting. he glanced at his phone, the message from bona still visible on the screen. she had asked him to meet her at a nearby coffee shop, a request he couldn’t ignore despite his current state of emotional turmoil.

he walked briskly through the quiet streets, his thoughts consumed by the unresolved feelings between you and the burden of his relationship. the coffee shop was a cozy, dimly lit place, a stark contrast to the chaos of his mind. as he approached, he took a deep breath, trying to steady himself before entering.

she was already seated at a corner table when he arrived. her face lit up with a smile as she saw him, but the joy in her eyes quickly faded when she noticed the tension in his posture. hoseok forced a smile as he joined her, slipping into the chair across from her. “hey,” he greeted, trying to sound casual. “hey,” she replied softly, her eyes searching his face for some sign of what was troubling him. “i'm glad you could make it.”

they sat in silence for a few moments, the atmosphere heavy with unspoken words. hoseok’s thoughts were racing, but he tried to focus on the present. he reached into his pocket and retrieved a small box, placing it gently on the table between them. it contained the necklace he had bought for her, a symbol of their relationship that now felt like an anchor weighing him down.

her eyes fell on the box, and she reached for it with trembling hands. her fingers traced the delicate chain as she opened the box and saw the necklace inside. there was a flicker of sadness in her eyes, and she took a deep breath, her voice trembling as she spoke.

“i’ve been thinking a lot lately. about us. And I don’t know how to say this, but,” her voice broke, and tears began to well up in her eyes. “i think it’s time for us to break up.”

his heart sank, but he remained stoic, his face a mask of calm. the news was not unexpected, yet it still felt like a blow. he had long sensed the disconnect, and although he had wanted to avoid the confrontation, he knew deep down that this was a resolution he had been avoiding. he nodded slowly, his eyes meeting hers with a mixture of resignation and relief. “it isn't the same anymore, i know,” he said quietly, his voice steady. he did know, and he knew how bad he had wanted out of the relationship—he just didn't want to hurt her. “i know.”

she looked at him, her eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and gratitude. the silence between them was charged, but hoseok knew it was time to act. he stood up, walked around the table, and gently placed the necklace around her neck. the gesture was tender but lacked the warmth it might have once held. it was a final act of kindness, a way to end things on a note of respect.

as he stepped back, he saw the tears streaming down her face. he offered a faint, almost bittersweet smile before turning to leave. his steps were purposeful and steady, but inside, his mind was elsewhere. the thoughts of you, the dance, and the unresolved feelings he harbored for you filled his mind, pushing out any remnants of his prior relationship.

leaving the coffee shop, he felt a peculiar sense of liberation. it wasn’t joy, but rather a profound relief—a space now open for him to confront his own feelings and desires. the end of his relationship with was, in a twisted way, the best gift she could've given him. it was an opportunity to pursue what he truly wanted, what he truly felt.

the studio was a haven of solitude and focus as you danced alone. the space was dimly lit, the lights casting long shadows that accentuated the precision of your movements. the choreography you were working on was demanding, a complex sequence of steps that required both grace and strength. you moved effortlessly, your body translating the intricate patterns of the dance into a fluid expression of emotion. each step, each turn, was executed with a blend of determination and elegance, a testament to your skill and dedication.

unbeknownst to you, hoseok was watching from outside the studio, his eyes fixed on your every movement. he stood in the doorway, hidden from view but captivated by the sight of you dancing. the way you moved, the passion you poured into the performance—it all stirred something deep within him. it was a mixture of admiration, longing, and a pang of jealousy that he tried to suppress.

as you reached a particularly challenging part of the routine, you heard the faintest sound of the studio door opening. hoseok’s presence was undeniable now, and his gaze was intense as he watched you. you didn’t notice him at first, lost in the rhythm and the demands of the choreography. but as you completed the segment, you turned to find hoseok stepping into the studio.

wonho was at your side almost immediately, having come to watch your performance. he greeted him with a friendly nod. “hey, hoseok. we were just working on the new choreography. what brings you here?” his response was curt, his tone cold. “i came to see if i could run the dance with her.”

wonho looked taken aback by the abruptness but managed a polite smile. “sure, we were just wrapping up. it’s all yours.” hoseok's eyes bore into his with a fierce intensity, a silent assertion of his claim. wonho, though taken aback, took a step back and watched as you and hoseok prepared to dance together. the tension between them was palpable, and you could sense the shift in the atmosphere.

as you began to dance, the room seemed to hold its breath. hoseok’s movements were sharp and precise, his focus entirely on you. his performance was impeccable, matching the grace and intensity of your own. the chemistry between you two was undeniable, the dance becoming an almost intimate exchange. he kept his gaze locked on wonho throughout, a clear message that you were his and his alone. the intensity of his stare was enough to make him shift uncomfortably, though he tried to maintain his composure.

when the dance ended, wonho clapped, his expression a mix of admiration and envy. “what was impressive. you both make a great team,” as if calculated, he turned to you, awaiting your answer, not hoseok's. “would you be available for a deeper discussion about the track over lunch? i’d love to get more insight.”

you were about to respond positively when hoseok interjected, his voice firm. “actually, she won’t be able to make it. we have practice scheduled.” you looked between the two of them, caught in the middle of their silent rivalry. “hoseok, we can work something out—”

before you could finish, he cut you off again. “we have a tight schedule, and it’s important that we stick to it.”

wonho’s expression darkened slightly, but he nodded, understanding the implicit challenge. “alright, if you're able to reschedule, just let me know.” you turned to hoseok, frustration evident on your face. “can we talk outside for a moment?”

without waiting for a response, you stepped out of the studio, hoseok following closely behind. the corridor was quieter, a stark contrast to the energy of the dance floor. you faced him, your voice steady but concerned. “what’s going on with you?” you asked. “you’ve been acting like an asshole. what’s this really about?”

his eyes softened as he looked at you. there was a mix of vulnerability and resolve in his gaze. “i just broke up with bona,” he admitted, his voice low. “it’s been complicated, but i needed to be honest with myself and with you.”

you hid your surprise, maintaining a sympathetic demeanor. “i’m sorry to hear that. i hope it’s not too hard on you.” he shook his head, a faint smile touching his lips. “it’s actually a good thing. it means i can focus on what i really want. and that’s where you come in.”

he reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face with a tender gesture. his gaze lingered on you, his face inches from yours. the moment was charged, the air between you filled with unspoken words and emotions. hoseok leaned in, his lips almost brushing against yours, when a voice interrupted from down the hallway.

“hey, do you have a minute for another session?”

it was wonho, his timing impeccable and his presence unmistakable. you pulled away from hoseok, a flush of embarrassment coloring your cheeks. his expression darkened slightly, a mix of frustration and longing evident in his eyes. you cleared your throat, trying to regain your composure. “sure, won. let’s head back.”

as you re-entered the studio with him, hoseok’s gaze followed you, a simmering tension in his eyes. the dynamic between you, him, and wonho had shifted, and the complexity of the situation was far from resolved. the dance session resumed, but the lingering emotions and unresolved feelings created an undercurrent that was impossible to ignore.

the weeks that followed were filled with a growing intensity between you and hoseok. the studio was a place where the boundary between professionalism and personal emotions often blurred. amidst the choreography, rehearsals, and performances, the subtle tension between you and him became increasingly unbearable.

in the studio, when no one was looking, his gestures grew more intimate. during breaks, you’d find his hand brushing against yours under the table, fingers grazing lightly, creating an almost electric connection. there were moments when he’d hug you from behind, his presence a comforting warmth against your back. his hand would rest casually on your waist or thigh, an unspoken claim that seemed to linger in the air.

one afternoon, you were both working on a new routine for his solo track. the studio was alive with the energy of the song, the beat driving the rhythm of your movements. you and hoseok were lost in the dance, the choreography blending seamlessly with the music. he was focused, his eyes locked on you as you both performed with fluidity and precision.

during a particularly intense sequence, his voice broke through the music, his tone low and sensual. “don’t dance with him,” he said, referring to the upcoming live performance with wonho. the statement was clear, and the possessiveness in his voice was unmistakable. you continued dancing, maintaining your composure. “i have to,” you replied, your voice steady despite the charged atmosphere. “it’s strictly business.”

his response was to pause in the middle of the choreography. the move positioned him behind you, his arms wrapping around your waist with a possessive tenderness. his breath was warm against your ear as he whispered, “i don’t like watching you dance with him, you’re strictly mine.”

the whispered words sent a shiver down your spine, and you felt the intensity of his emotions press against you. as you resumed the dance, the air between you was thick with unspoken promises and desires. the routine continued with an almost palpable tension, each movement more charged than the last.

in the final pose of the routine, you extended your leg gracefully, the culmination of the dance. hoseok was on his knees next to it, his fingers lightly caressing your skin. the touch was delicate, but it carried a depth of feeling that words couldn’t convey. the studio seemed to hold its breath, the only sound the faint echo of the music in the background.

you looked down at him, your heart racing as you spoke softly, “i promise i won’t dance with him like i dance with you.”

his eyes were filled with a mix of relief and desire. he nodded, his expression softening. without a word, he pressed a gentle kiss to your leg, his lips lingering for a moment. the touch was both intimate and reassuring, a silent confirmation of the bond between you. the kiss was a promise, a reminder of the connection you shared. as you both stood up and moved away from each other, the tension was still there, but it was now tempered with a mutual understanding.

the backstage area was a flurry of activity as you prepared for wonho’s live performance. the atmosphere was charged with excitement and anticipation. you adjusted your outfit—a striking ensemble designed to fit the theme of the performance. the costume revealed more skin than you were accustomed to, its daring cut and intricate design highlighting your every move. you made sure everything was in place, trying to ignore the flutter of nerves that accompanied such a public display.

as you finished the final touches, wonho appeared from behind the curtain. his presence was calm and collected, a stark contrast to the bustling energy around you. “ready to go?” he asked, his voice warm and encouraging. you nodded, giving him a reassuring smile. “ready.”

the two of you walked towards the stage, the muffled sounds of the audience growing louder as you approached. the curtains parted, revealing a sea of faces and bright lights. thousands of people filled the auditorium, their cheers and applause resonating through the air. you scanned the crowd, spotting your group near the front. they were all watching eagerly, their faces alight with enthusiasm—except for hoseok.

he was sat off to the side, his expression rigid and stoic. his eyes were fixed on you and wonho, but his gaze was anything but cheerful. the jealousy that coursed through him was palpable, a stark contrast to the smiles of his colleagues.

as the crowd's chatter began to die down, the lights dimmed, and the performance was set to begin. you took a deep breath, focusing on the routine ahead. the music started, and you and wonho moved in perfect synchronization, the choreography flowing seamlessly between you. his voice filled the space, each note perfectly timed with the dance steps.

the performance was a showcase of your skills, but it was also a demonstration of the chemistry between you and him. the dance was dynamic and energetic, punctuated by moments of close contact and intimate gestures. his tight shirt clung to his chest and biceps, accentuating his physique. his movements were confident, but it was the way he touched you—holding you, guiding you, his hands lingering a bit longer than necessary—that drew the most attention from hoseok.

from the corner of your eye, you could see his reaction. his usual charm and warmth were replaced by a simmering anger. his gaze was locked on the stage, but it wasn’t just the performance he was watching—it was the way wonho’s hands roamed over you, the way his proximity seemed to be a direct challenge to his claim over you. every touch, every moment of contact between you and wonho was like a dagger to hoseok’s chest.

as the routine reached its climax, you and wonho moved into the final, scandalous pose. the dance ended with you in the same provocative position, his face inches from yours, his arms around your waist. the pose was intimate, the culmination of a performance designed to captivate and provoke. the audience erupted into applause, but hoseok’s reaction was a mix of rage and helplessness. his eyes were fixated on you, his frustration evident despite his attempt to mask it.

the performance concluded, and the stage lights faded. the curtain fell, and the roar of the audience’s approval became a distant echo. you and wonho took your final bow, sharing a brief, congratulatory hug before making your way backstage. the air was thick with the residue of the performance and the emotions it had stirred. as you walked offstage, you felt a mix of relief and apprehension. the adrenaline from the performance still buzzed in your veins, but you couldn’t shake the awareness of hoseok’s gaze. you hoped to catch a moment to speak with him, but his presence was as distant as it was intense. you could sense his eyes on you, even as you tried to avoid his gaze.

backstage, he remained apart from the group, his demeanor unchanged. his stoic expression spoke volumes, but it was his unyielding gaze that betrayed his inner turmoil. despite the applause and celebration, his focus was solely on you, and the jealousy he felt was a tangible force. the night had only just begun, and the emotions between you and him were far from settled. as you moved through the backstage area, the echoes of the performance lingered, and the complexities of your relationships became ever more entangled.

the studio was quiet after the performance, the only sound being the faint hum of the air conditioning. you were alone, stretching to ease the tension in your muscles from the demanding routine. the coolness of the studio floor felt soothing against your skin, and the large mirror reflected your exhausted yet satisfied expression. your body ached, but the relief of having completed the performance was refreshing.

as you reached up to stretch your arms, you could see the way your muscles shifted and relaxed in the mirror. you focused on your movements, trying to release the pent-up energy and stress from the evening. the studio was a familiar sanctuary, a place where you could regain your composure and reflect on the night’s events.

without warning, you felt a presence behind you. hoseok entered the studio, his steps almost silent against the floor. you didn't need to turn around to sense his mood; it was palpable. the air between you grew thick with tension, and you could almost feel the weight of his jealousy pressing down on you.

he approached you, his presence a definite contrast to the quiet calm of the studio. he pressed himself into your back, the warmth of his body sending a shiver down your spine. his touch was gentle, almost tender, as he wrapped his arms around your waist, but his words were anything but kind.

“did you enjoy yourself out there?” his voice was low, laced with a bitterness that contrasted sharply with the softness of his touch. his lips brushed against your neck, the kiss both soothing and provocative. “i saw you and wonho—very cozy, weren’t you?”

you tried to ignore the sting in his words, focusing instead on the soothing pressure of his kisses. “it’s all part of the performance,” you said, trying to keep your tone neutral. “you know it’s strictly business.”

his grip tightened slightly, his fingers splaying across your toned stomach. “strictly business? that’s what you call it?” he nuzzled closer, his breath warm against your neck. “you were practically in his arms. do you know how hard it is to watch someone else touch you like that?”

his words were a mix of jealousy and possessiveness, each comment a reminder of how much he cared—or how deeply his feelings were tangled with his frustrations. the contrast between his tender touches and bitter remarks was disorienting, making it difficult to decipher his true emotions.

“you know it’s not like that,” you said, trying to maintain a calm demeanor despite the rising tension. “we had to execute the routine as planned. it’s professional.”

his kisses grew more insistent, his lips tracing along your neck and shoulder. “professional,” he repeated, his voice dripping with disdain. “you were so close, it looked more personal than professional. i couldn’t stand seeing him touch you like that.”

his hands roamed over your sides, his touch both comforting and charged with an undercurrent of frustration. “i'm the one who’s supposed to have that intimacy with you,” he murmured. “not him. and here i am, watching you dance with someone else, knowing you’re his for those moments. it drives me insane.”

you could feel the warmth of his body pressed against yours, his emotions palpable in the way he held you. despite the sharpness of his words, there was a vulnerability in his touch, a hint of how deeply his feelings ran.

“it bothers you that much?” you asked softly, turning slightly to face him, though you kept your gaze on the mirror. “it’s part of the job, baby.” hoseok’s eyes met yours in the reflection, his expression a storm of emotions. “i can’t help it,” he admitted, his voice rough with frustration. “don't want anyone else around what's mine.”

his confession hung in the air, heavy with the weight of his emotions. you felt a pang of sympathy mixed with confusion. his possessiveness was clear, but so was his deep-seated affection. it was a complex, tumultuous blend that left you feeling conflicted. neither of you knew what to say, and not much else was left to say.

the lack of words was made up for almost instantly, as he finally found himself leaning in. he was pressed into your back, an arm snaked around your front as he brought his lips down onto yours. the intimacy of the moment was overwhelming, each touch and breath creating a charged atmosphere that was impossible to ignore. the silence was broken not by words but by the sudden, intense need that radiated from him.

the touch was gentle at first, a soft exploration that spoke volumes. but as the intensity of his emotions surged, the kiss deepened, becoming more fervent. his lips pressed against yours with a fervor that left no room for doubt about how much he cared. the kiss was all-consuming. hoseok's free hand slid up to cup your face, his fingers threading into your hair. he pulled you closer, his body molding against yours as if trying to erase any distance between you. the kiss was an urgent declaration, a way of communicating everything he couldn’t put into words.

your hands found their way to his shoulders, gripping him tightly as you responded to the kiss. the heat of the moment was undeniable, the intensity of his feelings mirrored in the way he kissed you. his touch was both demanding and reassuring, a testament to the depth of his emotions.

as the kiss continued, it became a battle of passion and need. your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as if you could merge your very beings through this single point of contact. his arms tightened around you, lifting you slightly off the ground. the strength in his embrace was a stark contrast to the gentle caress of his thumb against your cheek. as your bodies melded together, you could feel the tension in the air thicken. the anticipation was unbearable, like the moment before a storm breaks. and just like that, the dam burst. his hands moved from your waist to the back of your neck, holding you in place as he deepened the kiss even further. his tongue danced with yours, a silent promise of what was to come. the scent of his cologne mixed with the faint smell of sweat and the lingering aroma of the floor cleaner, creating a heady concoction that was uniquely him.

he propped you against the mirror, his position behind you remaining. you gasped at the coldness of the glass, hands pressed into it as you caught a glimpse of him in the mirror—so desperate, so lust-driven. his hands moved with the same precision and control he had when he danced, but now they were driven by something primal. he unhooked your bra, letting it fall away from your body like a forgotten accessory. his eyes never left yours as he cupped your tits from behind, his thumbs teasing your hardened nipples.

you gasped, arching into his touch, and his smirk grew into a full-blown smile. he bent his head, taking one into his mouth, sucking gently at first, then harder, as if trying to claim you fully through this most intimate of gestures. you moaned, your hands threading through his hair, urging him on.

he pulled away, his eyes dark with lust. he slid your panties down your legs, revealing your most sensitive spot to the cool air of the studio. he knelt between your thighs, his breath hot against the flesh of your ass. his tongue traced a line from the base of your spine to the apex of your thighs, making you shiver with anticipation. He took his time, savoring every inch of you as if you were the sweetest treat he'd ever tasted. his mouth found your core as his hands gripped your ass, and his tongue began to work its magic, circling and flicking, driving you wild with need.

“he get to touch you like this, too?” he practically growled. you pressed your forehead into the glass as your mouth hung open, all you could do was moan. that quickly changed as he pulled away from your sticky cunt, hand flying against your ass as to punish you for your silence. “you better use your fucking words,” and you did.

“no, nobody,” you whimpered, legs quivering as his fingertips traced your folds, collecting the sticky substance that oozed down your thighs. “only you, hoseok.”

it was a good enough answer for him. while he pleasured you, he removed his own clothes, shedding them with the same urgency as he had yours. his muscles rippled in the spotlight, casting dramatic shadows across the studio walls. his eyes met yours in the mirror, the reflection revealing his own need, his own desire for you. he stood up, his arousal evident, and you reached for him, eager to return the favor. but he was already there, positioning himself at your entrance, his eyes never leaving yours in the mirror.

“gotta be gentle, hobi, you're too fucking big,” you nearly begged, and it wasn't far from the truth. you knew it the minute you caught a glimpse in the mirror, the minute you felt his sticky, swollen tip in between your lips. he was so fucking big, hard and desperate for you. the way you pleaded only made him harder, his dick pulsating with need.

he watched your face in the mirror, forehead sweaty with your puffy lip tucked between your lips. he needed you—it pissed him off, how good you looked. all that raced through his mind was how good you looked, and how he wasn't the only one who thought so. “i'll think about it,” he lied.

with one swift motion, he pushed his dick past your folds, and you both gasped in unison. the feeling of him inside you was overwhelming, the pressure and the heat making you feel like you might shatter at any moment. he began to move as your pussy clenched around him, his hips driving into yours in a rhythm that mirrored the beating of your hearts. the sound of your skin slapping together filled the room, punctuated by your moans and his grunts of pleasure. “too big, hobi,” you whined, earning a groan in response. your walls fluttered around him, milking his dick for all it had to offer as he drilled deeper into you.

his hand made its way past your tits, grabbing onto your throat as he continued pounding into you. his grip tightened as you moaned, fueling the fire with your eyes rolling into the back of your head. he watched it all, admiring your reflection—the way your tits bounced, the way his hand fit so fucking perfectly around your neck. “feel the rhythm, baby, come on,” he encouraged in your ear. “you can take it, be good for me.”

the mirror reflected your passionate embrace, allowing you to watch each other's expressions of ecstasy. hoseok's possessive gaze never wavered from yours, as if to remind you that in this moment, you were his and his alone. the dance studio had transformed into a place of raw, unbridled passion, and there was no room for anything else.

he was so close, you could tell by the way his free hand held onto your hip, biting into your ass as he used it to his advantage, filling your cunt up to the brim. “tell me where you want it, yeah?” he was eager, too eager, but so were you. you didn't know if it was the atmosphere, or the sheer love you felt, but something had possessed you right then and there. “inside,” you mewled, breathless as a string of moans followed. “inside my pussy, make me yours.”

your words had flipped a switch in him, and you both knew it. his hand released your throat, reaching for your hip as he pushed into your cunt harder than ever. each thrust grew more sloppy and desperate as the second passed, his tip caressing your most sensitive spot. he was close, and so were you.

the tension between you grew, a tight coil winding tighter with every thrust. your moans grew louder, echoing off the walls. hoseok's movements grew more erratic, his grip on your hips tightening. you could feel yourself approaching the edge, the world outside the studio forgotten. and as you reached the peak, your body went numb. you came with a loud moan, and he followed shortly after. he came just as loud, his cock twitching inside your sore cunt. you could feel the way his cum flooded you, thick ropes of seed filling you up to the brim.

for a second, he didn't pull out. he debated it. the warmth was comforting to him, as you had both turned the studio into something of your own. a different dance, a different art. he leaned in, slipping out of you as he did so, pressing a kiss to your shoulder, “i like this performance a whole lot better.”

✧.*

a/n: writing mean!hoseok is so weird ngl anyway take a shot every time i say palpable!!!

[rosiestalez]

I See Red

TomWelling!Superman x afab!reader

Word Count: 664

A/N: Smallville (as Lois would call him) has been aged up to be 20. Post graduating highschool. I’m only on season 4 at the moment so the characters are only from the first 4 seasons (also not my gif!).

Warnings: Little bit of RedKryptonite!Clark, suggestive language, angsty asf, bad grammar, mention of family member death. I think that’s it!

Happy Reading!

It was one hell of a stormy day in Smallville, closely imitating twister weather. You’re sitting up in the Kent Hay loft watching the rain pound over the farm, it was relaxing. This weather put your mind an ease, you weren’t thinking about school, the Talon, or Clark. You hear a voice, you jump turning to face the one calling you.

“Hey!”, Chloe waves, “Sorry, I- didn’t mean to spook you.” She smiles walking to sit across from you on the bay window seat. “I heard you were staying with the Kent’s, and I wanted to drop by and check on you, I know things have been rough since Clark disappeared.” She reaches her hand to your shoulder.

“I’m okay”, you flash a fake smile turning you gaze back to the rolling rain. “How’s Lana?”, eyes still fixed on the rain.

“She’s not great, but she’s also not okay”, Chloe removes her hand from your shoulder.

“Oh”, is all you can muster up.

“Why don’t you go talk to her, and ask her for yourself?”, this question removes your eyes from the downpour.

“Why? She’s not talking to me. She thinks I’M the reason Clark left.”

“I doubt that’s true, y/n. You’re her BEST friend.”

“WAS”, you sneer.

“No IS”, she replies. “I think you should go to the Talon, and TALK to her.” She stands up, grabs your arm tugging you off the seat. “Gosh you’re so weird, I would definitely put you on my SECRET wall of weird if you’re weren’t human.”, you roll your eyes. Your body is hesitant to stand up but you finally do, following Chloe out of the Hayloft. “You and Clark are really are perfect for each other.”

“Yeah, I guess so”, you chuckle. You file into Chloe’s new red beetle and head into town. After while, the rain soaks back up into the clouds, and you are finally at Lana’s coffee shop. Your heart pounding with anxiety, “I don’t want to do this, I have nothing to say to her.”

“Oh yes you do”, Chloe got out of the drivers side walking around to you and pulling you out of the car. You entered the shop, you pick out the table farthest from the bar where Lana is cleaning the after math of the rainstorm rush.

“Chloe, I don’t want to be here.” You put your head down on the table and let out a long winded dramatic whine.

“That sucks, but you guys need to talk”, she rubs your back. “HEY! Lana!”, she waves her over. Lana walks over smiling, you lift your head up smiling back.

“Hey! Chloe! Y/n!”, she exclaims, she doesn’t see upset at all, or maybe she’s putting on face to save Chloe some embarrassment. “Usuals?”

“YES?”, you and Chloe exclaim in unison.

“Got it! Two. VANILLA iced lattes coming up!”, she walks away making her way back to the coffee bar.

“See, she’s not upset! You’re fine.”, Chloe gestures.

“She doesn’t seem like it, but Lana has always been good at putting on a face. You and I both know that”, you respond.

After about 5 minutes Lana returns with three blue coffee mugs, “I need a break, I think I’m gonna join you girls for some coffee, if you don’t mind!”, she sits down in the chair across from you and Chloe.

“Totally!”, Chloe states. You guys chat for a bit about school, life, and nothing about Clark; you preferred this. Lana has been your best friend since Kindergarten, and you guys have made it a point to not let petty one sided drama get in between your friendship. The Clark situation left as quickly as it came. Chloe was shocked at the lack of Clark talk, maybe she wanted some drama for her Tourch gossip.

After your coffee dinner you ended up back at the Kent’s getting ready for bed, 5 am comes quickly, you put your hair in a braid and put on Clark’s primary red sweatshirts and a pair of boxers and climb into his bed that you were borrowing. You dose off after 20 minutes. Your sleep was restful for the first hour. You jolt awake from the bed shifting beside you.

“You look peaceful”, the voice was familiar, but in your groggy state you couldn’t pin it down.

“Wha-“, you roll over turning on his bedside lamp, and jump spooked by the boy sitting next to you shirtless on his bed. “Oh-oh my gosh CLARK?!”, you whisper scream as to not wake his parents. You reach your hand out to touch his face in awe, “oh-oh wow!”, a smile fills your face.

“Hey baby”, his smile was alluring, but it wasn’t normal, it was full of mischief. “Sorry I did not mean to wake you.” He adds running his hands through you hair sweeping back the whispies blocking your face.

“Clark, what are you doing here?”, your voice laced with concern.

“I thought it was time to come home.”

“Wow”, you huff, crossing your arms slightly pushing your boobs up. Clark stares intently at your chest. “CLARK! You’re a perv!”, you swiftly uncross your arms hitting him on the shoulder as hard as you can. He chuckles.

“Sorry, I can’t help it.” He lays down next you stripping off his pants so he’s left in only Calvin Klein briefs. You can’t help, but use your “X-Ray” vision, “Hey you pervert. I’m trying to get some rest”, he mocks. He rolls over you to turn off the lamp. He wraps you in his arms and both of you drift off to sleep.

You feel something growing against your back, you lean into him acknowledging that you feel his hardening dick unintentionally. He draws you in closer, kissing down your neck as a response to your movements. He sends shivers down your spine, he snakes his hands underneath the sweatshirt lightly stroking the bare skin of your back. “So soft”, Clark whispers against your neck, “I missed your skin.”

He’s acting like nothing has happened, like he didn’t disappear for 2 months to who knows where. You looked for him in Metropolis, Gotham, other parts of Kansas and yet you couldn’t find your stupid boyfriend especially when you needed him the most. Your grandpa passed away and it left you homeless and due to your proximity to the Kent’s they let you stay during summer before the Fall semester of KU began. You appreciate their kindness, but for some reason Mr. Kent wanted you, the girl with the pretty nails and terrible sleep schedule to wake up at 5am to “pull your share” which meant mucking stalls and lifting heavy bales of hay. You were completely okay with this set-up you love being outside and around animals although the hay rash is a tad bothersome.

“Do your parents know your back?”, you whisper eyes still closed.

“No.” His voice was stern, like he was angry at you for even asking.

“Oh.”

“Don’t worry I’ll tell them in the morning”, he follows, “we aren’t waking up at five am, as a member of the Kent family I declare you have an off day.” You smile exhaling a sigh from your nose.

“Fine”, he smiles into your neck wrapped you in closer.

The sun creeps through his curtains and an annoying screeching fills the room. You wrestle to turn off the alarm clock blaring in your ear. You finally get it off, you feel emptiness beside you, ‘where is he?’ You get out of bed sliding on a pair of house shoes and stumble out the room, down the stairs, and begin making your way out the house to the hayloft where you suspect Clark to be hiding. You don’t see him, but the storm cellar door is open in the distance. You knew this ship was hiding there, you know Clark’s secret, but not everything. You didn’t know why he disappeared, or why he was acting like a complete ass before he left. You see a red light beaming through the dark room. “Good morning”, you say waltzing down the stairs.

“Hey.” He doesn’t turn around, his eyes fixed on the glowing red rock.

“What is that?”, you ask coming closer and wrapping your arms around his toned stomach.

“Red Kryptonite”, he answers eyes still enamored.

“Oh.” You give him a tight hug, sighing into his back, “what does it do?”

“Changes me.”

“What do you mean?”

“It makes me feel like me,” he pauses, “like Kal- El.”

“Who?”

“That’s my birth name”, he answers.

“So the real you disappears for a long period of time, doesn’t tell anyone where you are, and comes back out of the blue acting like everything is okay?”, you break away from him. He finally removes his gaze from the rock, closing the led box.

He sighs, “I don’t FEEL anything, that’s what I like. I FEEL so much, sometimes I don’t want to. I want to make my decisions based off myself sometimes and not care about how others feel”, Clark exclaims.

“You can’t be serious right now”, you argue irritations flooding your voice. He just looks at you with those dumb baby blues. “I swear! That was so selfish of you, why did you do it? Because you couldn’t handle the fact that I was leaving Smallville? Were you scared? Why Clark? Why would you be so selfish at a time I needed YOU most”, tears fill your beautiful bright eyes. You begin crying, sliding down onto the ground, emotions completely uncontrollable. He sighs, sitting down next you wrapping his big arms around you pulling you into a comforting hug.

“I thought I told you were sleeping in?” He chuckles. You sniffle staring up at his blue eyes yet again.

“Clark, I’m not playing with you I’m very upset and I think you owe me an explanation.”

“You will get one, but not right now. Right now you get an apology”, he begins softly stroking your messy curls that peaked out from last night’s braid and kisses the top of your head. “I’m sorry y/n, I never meant to hurt you” he adds rocking you in his arms.

“Well you did, did you know papa died the day after you left?”

“Yeah, I was at the funeral.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I couldn’t, and that’s because I was being selfish”, you hum at his response.

“I’m hungry, I think your mom is awake. Let’s go eat some breakfast and we can talk about this later”, you smile standing up, reaching out your hand to pull him off the ground. He pulls you back down with his ‘super strength’. He kisses your lips deeply, a kiss you missed so much. You match his rhythm hands tangling in each others hair.

“I love you”, he breaks away from the kiss looking lovingly into your eyes. You smile leading him out of the storm cellar to Mrs. Kent in the kitchen laying out freshly cooked pancakes.

[bluegalaxygirl]

Amnesia (KidKiller X Reader) P10

Plot: After an explosion reader wakes up in a hospital with no memory of the past few years, her parents want to take her home so she can recover and get back to a normal life while the Kid pirates want her back on the ship where she belongs.

Warning: Bad language, Medical stuff, family issues and Violence.

Reader is Female, Poly Relationship, established relationship, Kid X Reader X Killer, Reader is a member of the Kid pirates and is in charge of the money, Budgeting and negotiating the best price.

< Previous part ….. Next part >

Your parents turn to the nurse with outraged expressions at her suggestion "compromise with pirates?" Your father asks crossing his arms over his chest "There is no compromise, We want them to leave" Your mother pipes up before making her way over to your sleeping body looking you over while the doctor checks your shoulder "How many times do i have to fucking tell you? We're not leaving.. She's getting her memories back and your little lie is going to fall apart. Once she see's that, we're taking her home" Kid yells, now that your passed out he can be as loud and angry as he likes knowing it won't hurt you or at least hopes it won't "She's getting her memories back? That's amazing" The nurse smiles only to be shot down by the doctor who moves some hair out of your face before turning to the nurse "That's not what is happening, you should go back to your rounds, I'll sort this out" A puzzled look forms on the nurses face but unable to refuse the doctor she bows slightly before leaving the room "She is not getting her memories back-" The doctor turns to talk to your father but is interrupted by Kid who growls while his hands are clenched at his side "Bullshit, She remembers how we met, and she knows who our doctor is" Killer nods in agreement while looking down at you and your mother seeing the woman stoking your hair with care and whispering soothing things to you. He doesn't understand your family, while you were awake and in pain all they did was yell and cause problems but now your out she's acting like the perfect mother, soothing her injured child.

Your farther sighs one hand grabbing onto his bicep and squeezing hard seeming to control his anger and stop himself from saying something he shouldn't, the doctor panic's at this quickly walking over to the man and clearing his throat due to his nerves "N-no thats not what is happening, she's just having strange dreams due to the seizures" The doctor tries to explain as Kid growls again walking around the bad and grabbing the man's throat and lifting him off the ground making the man gasp and struggle for air "I don't know what the fuck your trying to do, but she's remembering shit weather you like it or not" The captain glares throwing the doctor into the other bed, his back its the bed hard making its wheels unlock and roll into the wall, the loud bang snaps Killer out of his gaze on you and your mother to see the fight starting to break out between Kid and your father, both yelling at each other about if your actually remembering or not. If you were awake Killer might have stopped them just to save you the pain of their loud voices but now that your passed out and don't seem to be waking up he'll let Kid get his anger out and if he pushes your father then so be it. The masked man crosses his arms over his chest looking at your mother debating on how to start, making a compromise would make thing easier for both parties, but he knows their all bound to break it leading to another big fight that might hurt you. "Do you mind?" Your mother scowls up at Killer, she's not sure who he's looking at but either way she doesn't like it, letting out a sigh Killer shakes his head and grits his teeth holding himself back from snapping at her, he wishes he could let his anger out like Kid but one of them has to keep a clear head.

He wants nothing more than to grab you and take you back to the Victoria, set sail and leave your bloody family behind but you won't trust them if they do that, you won't want them around if they kick your parents out and you might not remember anything else if he or Kid aren't around so through gritted teeth he states. "Lets make a compromise" Your mother sits up straight, her hand stops stroking your hair as her eyebrows nit together baffled by his suggestion, it takes her a second to think while looking him over and drowning out the fight behind her between her husband and Kid while the doctor tries to stop a physical fight between the two most of the time just getting shoves away or even punched by one or the other. "Your a pirate, you don't make compromises" she states with a smirk thinking she's won something "Your right but for her sake we'll make an exception, we want Y/n to get better just like you do, we care for her just like you do, she's our partner and our crew member we won't abandon her, and we won't or ever will take her away by force" He didn't believe most of it himself, but he hopes to take a note out of Heat's book and pull on someone's heart strings, thats if your mother actually has a heart. She thinks for a second, looking from you to the three still arguing behind her, Kid now with her husband's tie in his hands threatening to chock him and then back to Killer letting out a sigh "Fine, lets make a compromise" She yells out getting the three behind her to shut up and look over at her "We are not compromising with pirates" Your farther yells his hands grabbing Kids metal arm thats pulling his tie causing it to tighten around his neck. "I don't like it either but there not going to leave" Your mother sighs turning to look at her husband giving him a sad look, a smirk forms on Kid's face seeing your mother give in, letting go of the tie he watches your father fall to his knee's while trying to undo the knot with the Doctors help so he can breath normally again.

----- Memory -----

The work out room was big which was a good thing since you had room to work with, a large blue mat lies on the floor and on top of that was House with Heat kneeling next to her, his hands wrapped around her throat but not squeezing. "Ok so wrap your legs around and then force him down, just like i showed you" You state with a smile, the blue haired woman nods at you before grabbing one of Heat's wrists before bringing her hips up to wrap her leg under and then over his head while the other moves under his arm that she's grabbing. She pushes her legs and hips down bringing him to the floor while his arm stays on her chest where she holds it there with both hands. You jump up from your seat on the push up bench and clap happy that she got it "That's it you got it" You smile walking a little closer to help adjust her leg, House smiles wide at you seeming very proud of herself "That was fun" the stitched man now trapped laughs while lays there unmoving, you smile at the two before kneeling down to House's side who still hasn't let go just like you taught her "So what do i do now, if i get up he'll just grab me right?" she asks trying to work out how to get away, you nod at her glad she's thinking a head before placing your hand on Heat's stretched out arm "Well i don't want you to do it to a friend but if you lift your hips up while gripping his arm you will break it" House jumps a little at your words before looking down at Heats arm seeing that your right, even though she doesn't have a degree to be a doctor she knows the body well and can see the strain she's putting on his arm just from the position alone, if she does push her hips up she can snap his arm in two.

You tap her hands letting her know she can let go now before standing up "And if you want to do more damage instead of just letting go and rolling away you can roll away while holding his arm, if you do it right you can dislocate his shoulder" At this Heat lets out a big laugh pulling his arm back to his chest while he sits up "And here i thought you were a sweetheart" You can't help but laugh at that as well, just because your nice to them doesn't mean you won't put up at fight if need be, you may not be able to beat these pirates but you can at least buy time to get away. House smiles at the two of you while sitting up and fixing her strange glasses to see you better "So, what if i don't have the strength in my legs to push him down?" The blue haired girl asks getting the two of you to stop laughing and get back on track, she knows that in a fight she might get hurt and that can limit her abilities in battle, you pat her head in reassurance seeing she's still a little nervous about things "Well there are several things you can do, but an easy one is to twist the arm your holding in wards until his elbow touches your chest and then you can punch him in the face or even better the throat or head butt him" You state watching as the girl nods along taking in everything your saying.

Giving her two thumbs up you wiggle them making a point to show her the weak points in the hand "Remember, the thumbs are the weakest part of the hands, so you can pull on them or push against them. It might hurt a bit but its better than being strangled to death and when in doubt… you remember what i always tell you?" You ask, its something you tell her every time you practice, you want it drilled into her head so if she ever gets into a fight she'll use it on impulse "Always go for the eye's, throat and groin… even if it's a girl" She states as you ruffle her already messy hair happy that she can quote it so easily and be actually excited about it "That's my girl". As the memory fades your left in darkness to think but you only have questions, Training the crew, they let you train the crew or at least their doctor? It also seems you've been doing it a while and seem super comfortable training her. They must have trusted you or thought you were good enough to do so but that man who was with House, What was his name again? Heat? He's a strange looking guy and yet you don't feel anything but a friendly love for the stitched man, he does remind you of something though. He looks like a… a Scarecrow. Another image appears in your sleeping mind, a beach and a sunken ship, there's water and fire but the memory makes you happy like you gained a friend that day and… maybe more.

----- Hospital -----

It took an hour maybe more, but they soon managed to come to an agreement, your farther tried to set up a schedule for when the pirates could visit but that was quickly shut down by both pirates glaring at him and letting out a growl, in the end they all agreed to leave you alone at night, let you gather your thoughts and get some rest without others to disturb. They could tell your parents were still up to something but for now they'll let it slide, their sure if anything happens you'll tell them about it and you've already agreed to see their doctor so if its something medical House can find out. "So where agreed, You and your pals aren't aloud to touch my daughter while we're around" Your mother smirks waving her hand in the air like she's telling them to get lost, Kid growls not liking this at all, not being able touching you will be hell for him, he can't hold your hand or put his coat around you when your cold, hell they don't even want them touching you if you fall or hurt yourself. Killer nudges Kid in the side nodding at his captain who growls at his partner before nodding, as much as he hates this he trusts Killer enough to agree "And in turn you won't degrade, insult or say any kind of negative comment to Y/n or our crew" Killer states earning a nod off your parents, your farther stands out of his chair glaring at the two pirates before looking down at his wife "Now that this is over, i need to get on with business, i trust you'll stay here until they leave" Your Mother nods up at him watching the man grab his case and new's paper "If you break your word, i will insure there will be punishment" Your farther states directing the comment at the two pirates but refusing to look at them as he leaves the room and heads down the hall.

Kid groans leaning back against the wall and looking out of the window seeing the small port and a large ship that is most likely your parents one, anger boils in him not only for letting Killer talk him into this but also because he can't kick your parents aside, blow up their ship and take you away. Killer stands cracking his neck before grabbing the captain's arm snapping the man out of his destructive thoughts "Can i have a word? I'll head back to the Victoria and be back later but first we need to talk" The masked man knows he has to ease the captain before leaving, letting him sit and simmer in anger is only going to cause a fight and leave dead body's behind, with a groan Kid nods following his partner out the room, the captains eye twitches once in the hallway wanting to yell at the first mate for making such a stupid compromise but Killer doesn't stop, not until they get to a clear hallway where your parents, nurses and doctor's can't hear them "The Fuck Kill? wh-" Kid yells not bothering to keep his voice down until the masked man places a hand over the captains mouth and shoves him up against the wall "Keep your voice down" Killer whispers earning a deep growl from his partner whose quick to grab Killer's wrist pulling it away from his mouth while his metal hand grabs the masked man's face shoving him away "The fuck's your problem?" Kid whispers through gritted teeth, Killer sighs pulling his wrist out of the captain's grip before leaning against the opposite wall crossing his arms over his chest.

Despite the two sometimes getting into a physical fight neither of them get hurt, its normally just a little push and shove both not using much strength and knowing when enough is enough, it's normally because one or both of them need to break something or fight someone due to the adrenaline and anger in their system. "Kid, i understand your angry-" Killer goes to say only to be interrupted once again by Kid, despite the angry look on his face the masked man has been with his partner long enough to know he's actually upset "I'm more than angry Kill, i can't touch her, hold her, heck can't even help your out of bed if she needs. How can you make a compromise like that? what's next? i can't look at her, can't even be in the same room as her?" The captain's hands shake the feeling of wanting to punch a wall or strangle someone is making it hard to keep his voice down, Killer pushes off the wall stepping closer to his partner despite the warning glare he's getting "I noticed something with Y/n before, when her mother wanted to compromise with her. Y/n really thought about it and noticed how things where phrased, all the stuff you were happy with were worded in a way that wasn't in our favor but this one was" Kid groans while rolling his eyes not wanting a lecture from his partner right now, seeing this the masked man sighs and places a hand over his mask "You can touch her Kid, just not while their in the room" The captain raises a brow at his lover not fully understanding but his body relaxes, he can hold you, touch you, help you. "She said we can't touch her while their around, so when ever their not in the room we can touch her, if she'll let us"

Kid lets out a huff of a laugh while running his hand over his face and into his hair pushing it back, the anger he once had starts to fade away as a smug grin forms on his face "You manipulative bastard" The Captain chuckles grabbing his partner by the hips and pulling him in placing kisses and bites on the masked man's neck "K-kid" Killer tries not to laugh while wrapping his arms around Kids shoulders keeping the two close, the captain bites down on the first mates neck earning a groan of satisfaction soon followed by a slight push on his shoulder "Kid… Come on" The masked man protests despite wanting to continue, the captain slowly pulls away still keeping a firm grip on his partner's hips and raising a brow "What? Not aloud to show my lover some love?" he asks with a smirk knowing thats not true at all by the way his partner is still gripping onto him, if Killer wanted to he could easily get away. "We can continue this later, for now i need to head back to the Victoria, i promised the crew I'd save them from Papa's cooking and I'll get House ready to see Y/N tomorrow" Kid groans but understands since the crew have been complaining and honestly the hospital food is better than Papa's cooking, Killer garbs Kids hands pulling them off his hips to get his point across that he has to go, reluctantly the captain lets him do so and follows him out into the hallway leading back to your room.

Before Killer can leave though and idea pops into the captain's head, he's not sure it will work but it'll be worth a try "Hay Kill, bring the Victoria round to the port" Killer quickly turns to his captain humming in a surprised tone, they didn't want to draw any attention to themselves which is why they docked at the back away from the small port "I don't know if thats a good idea, we'll be spotted and have marines called on us" The protest earns a sigh from Kid while placing his hand on Killers shoulder, a small cocky grin forms on his face while looking his partner over "You know, I've noticed a few things too Kill. This place seems very reluctant to call in the marines, they've had days to do it, and they haven't even threatened us with getting those bastards. I don't think we have to worry about them, plus seeing the Victoria might trigger something for Y/n" The captain knew he was right, he didn't know why everyone seemed to not call in marines or even mention them but its working in their favor, so he won't question it, for now. Thinking for a second Killer nods agreeing with his captain "In that case, I'll pack some of her stuff hopefully that will trigger something too, I'll drop it all off later" Kid nods turning to his partner and placing a kiss on his jaw line while his flesh hand caresses his side, Killer leans into it letting out a hum while running his hand over Kid's shoulder and into his hair tugging on it lightly "Don't leave me too long with the old hag" the captain chuckles before pulling away and letting his partner go, Killer's shoulders shake while holding in a laugh quickly turning and walking away before his partner makes another comment. "Don't forget the Polka dot shirt" Kid calls out after earning a simple hand flick in return.

----- Memory -----

The first Island you stopped off at was an uninhabited one, you knew it was a smart chose to add that the island had to have a village for you to get off their ship since this was bound to happen. You got off the ship with Heat and wondered around a little, the two of you trying to help find something edible that you could take back to the crew. Pushing past bushes and branches you soon make it to the other side of the small island, Heat sighs as he plops down on the sandy shore "There aren't even animals on this island, boring" The scarecrow like man sighs making you shake your head at his whining, you keep your eyes on the water scanning it until they land on something thats almost fully submerged and surrounded by rocks. Strolling over to the water you stop just before the tide touches your boots, leaning forward while squinting your eyes you make out some kind of small wooden ship. "What is it?" Heat calls out before standing and brushing the sand off his pants before making his way over "I think there's a sunken ship over there, it beaten up but there's nothing growing on it so its most likely resent" you state before taking off your shoes and socks, Heat stands behind you not wanting to get his feet wet while looking out at the sea soon spotting what you've spotted, its small but has a cabin on the back of it, most likely a fisherman's boat from all the netting clinging to the side of the boat. You take off your jacket which gets Heat to look down at you and raise an eyebrow "What are you doing?" He asks stepping away from you as you place your jacket, shoes and socks to the side "I'm gonna have a look" you smile back at him.

Heat sighs and shakes his head "I don't think thats a good idea, we should tell the others and bring the ship round" You shake your head at him before turning to fully face him "It's not that far away don't worry. I would offer of you to join me but i don't want you getting your straw wet, scarecrow" you giggle seeing him growl at you while stepping closer "i'm not worried about you, i don't give a damn about you and why the hell do you keep calling me that?" His tall slender body towers over you while his eyes turn almost back with anger, it scares you a little but you know better than to show weakness "It's the stitches, your also abnormally tall and thin and when ever your mouth opens its just back, you remind me of a cool punk rock scarecrow" you state staring blankly up at him before turning and stepping into the water, he stands there frozen for a second unsure of what to say or do until he hears a splash. Once it was deep enough you dive forward and swim over to the wreck, there were some small fish around, but they swam away before you could get close. Once at the wooden ship you can see why it sunk, the underside of the ship is torn up beyond repair and it seems to be lower than a normal ship's bottom should be, It must have scraped against the rocks when getting too close to the island. Going under the water you swim through the open door of the cabin and then up to a large air pocket, wiping your face of the salty water you look around seeing the ships wheel and a bunch of lockers along with a opening where a ladder goes down into the bottom of the ship.

Checking the open lockers you don't find much just some old jackets and waterlogged boots but there is a small tin full of different fishing hooks which you place in your back pocket, maybe Wire who was fishing today since they haven't been affected by the water, kept nice and safe inside the tin box for who knows how long. Taking in a deep breath you push off the wheel of the ship and head down through the hole using the ladder to help you descend quickly, you now know the reason for the boats deep bottom, there's a small kitchen with broken wooden cupboards and a table and bench attached to the wall next to it, on the other side of the room are 6 cot beds going up the walls. You search for as long as you can before going back up for air, you knew there has to be something down there, so you took another breath and headed back down going straight over to the closed metal fridge, pulling a few times you managed to open it. With a happy smile you reach into the fridge and grab a large crate of beer before swimming back up and out the door before going up for air, catching your breath you manage to tread water until you can find a rock to stand on. "Hay Heat… Look what i found" You yell out while lifting the heavy crate full of alcohol bottles over your head. "Get your ass back here" Heat yells back at you but even from this distance your can see the huge smile on his face "Not yet there's another two crates and i haven't even checked the freezer yet" You yell back before looking around you and finding a loose piece of wood on the side of the ship, you kick it a few times until it comes loose and floats up to the top where you place the crate on top of it.

Luckily it didn't sink with the weight so you grabbed the wood and pushed it towards the beach "I'll grab the rest, just push the wood back once it gets to you ok" You call out as the wood floats over towards the shore being helped by the small waves. It took the two of you a while but soon enough you got all the crates of beer to the shore along with some big rolls of cheese wrapped in wax. Stepping onto the sand you sigh and rubs your arms suddenly feeling cold despite the warm weather, Heat looks over your loot checking to see if their edible and drinkable before stacking the crates on top of each other, so he can carry them. You take your shirt off and ring out the water while his back is turned before putting it back on and going to put your socks and shoes back on "You'll catch a cold, Tiny" Heat places a hand on your shoulder pulling you away from your dry clothes and over to another area "Hay what are-… Wait Tiny?" You ask pulling away form his arm and glaring up at him only for the tall man to loom over you again "While you were away i had time to think, if your gonna give me a nickname that you feel is fitting then why not do the same so because of how small you are, your now called Tiny" his smile grows bigger as your cheeks go red with embarrassment, the only up side is that he didn't call you anything to do with your looks, your height was never an issue to you but the way you looked was.

The two of you glare at each other for a while until you sigh and wave your hand at him "Fine, call me what ever you want but that just means your now scarecrow for life" The tall man throws his head back in laughter before ruffling your wet hair "And you will away be tiny" he comments before pulling you over to the side a bit more "Now shut up and let me dry you off, i don't want to hear any whining from you when you catch a cold" he states before stepping away from you, confused you stay there until he takes a breath in, your eyes widen realizing what his about to do. He breathes out fire that shoots past you, it doesn't touch you but the blazing heat warms you up instantly and mostly drys your hair and clothes off, once he stops you keep staring at him wide-eyed wondering how you didn't die. Walking over to your clothes Heat grabs them and throws them at you snapping you out of your scared state "Hurry up and let's get back, we have some drinking to do" The scarecrow laughs before picking up the crates and starting to head back the way you came, you scramble to get your socks and boots on before garbing the cheese and running after him while trying to put your jacket on not wanting to be left behind. Making your way out the forest you spot Killer already cooking over a large camp fire while Kid rested on the sand his hands behind his head as he looks up at the darkening sky, there's a few of the other crew member's scattered around the beach and carrying things off and onto the ship "Hay your back" House yells out running down the ramp holding a small bucket, she rushes over to the masked man placing the bucket down before turning to you and Heat who stop just short of the captain.

Glancing over with a groan Kid's attitude suddenly changes at seeing what the two of you brought back "Where the hell did you find that?" The captain yells sitting up with wide eyes making you both laugh, walking over to a blanket nearby you place the cheese down for Killer to inspect "There's a ship wreck on the other side of the island" Heat answers his captain placing the crates down before stretching cracking his back, leaving them to talk you head over to the ship pulling out the tin in your back pocket as you look for Wire. You soon spot the tall man leaning on the bars inside the skull at the front of the ship a fishing pole still in his hand as he throws it out and over the skulls teeth so it'll hit the water "Its late, thought you two got lost" Wire states not even turning to look at you, it shocking since you hadn't even gotten close to him for the tall man to see you and the floor doesn't creak, maybe it's some kind of sixth sense. Walking over you lean next to him on the railing holding the tin out to him "We found some cool stuff though. I thought you might want these, their not rusted like the tin" Wire raises an eyebrow while propping the fishing rod up and taking the tin out of your hands opening it to find the fishing tackles inside, picking one up he inspects it before placing it back in the tin and closing it "How much?" His question makes you tilt your head not fully understand what he means by that, did he think there's more or did he want money for it? Sighing Wire leans against the railing "How much do you want for it? 20? 30?" He asks glaring down at you only for you to let out a laugh surprising the man.

Shaking your head and putting your hands up you back away slightly "I don't want anything for it, i sore it and thought you might want it so just take it" You state putting your arms back down to your sides starting to realize that you just laughed at the tall man, gulping you wait for a bad reaction but his face is blank making the the tall man more intimidating than before. A tense silence falls between the two of you, Wire looking you over for any kind of deception while your waiting for him to scold you in some way, suddenly the tall mans hand lands on your head giving it a few pats "Thanks" He states the one corner of his mouth turning up a bit before he turns back to fishing, you stand there for a few seconds wondering what on earth just happened, you were sure he would be mad, but he thanked you. Nodding you slowly back up and walk away unsure of how to deal with what just happened only to stop when Wire calls out to you "Hay… have you fished before?" The tall man asks attaching one of the new tackles to his fishing line, turning you shake your head feeling more confused than you did before "Well if your going to be out at sea on your own some day, you might as well learn. Come on, I'll teach you" Wire gestures for you to come over while holding the fishing pole out to you, your still unsure what is going on but your not about to pass up this opportunity to learn something that will help you later so you walk forward taking the fishing rod from the tall man's hands.

[thewickedspinster]

Cassian x reader. We all know dancing isn’t cassian’s forte, however maybe he learns and catches reader off guard with some of his new skills (even) if he isn’t perfect.

The Idiot

a/n: crying at this btw. literally a dream i had once.

warnings/content: keir's sexism, platonic az x reader, fem! reader, language probably, cassian's dancing bc OOF, masquerade trope bc it's FUN ok

The Idiot

If she had to deal with one more obnoxious male approaching and asking for her hand, Y/N was going to lose it.

The Court of Nightmares had never been her favorite place. As the younger daughter of Keir, lord of the infernal realm, she had known it all too well for most of her life. By now, the heady drumbeats, slinking fae, and ears in the stone walls made her shudder.

Luckily, she spent plenty of time above the surface. Though she had stayed in the court under the mountain for several decades longer than her sister, Y/N had finally escaped her father's slimy grip and joined her cousin above ground. As a member of the Inner Circle, she had breathed fresh air the first. She had learned to live, and she had learned to fight differently than ever before. Now, as Rhysand's chief diplomat, she had a place that was more than just her sex. A family more than the one she'd been born into.

Yet, each Solstice, these visits to her father's domain were obligatory. A show of good faith, if you will. And yet each year, Keir put on a show that made Y/N's skin crawl. It was the dark side of the dreamer's world that Rhysand had created. It was a dark side that was necessary to maintain the peace, no matter how much Y/N wished it destroyed.

Tonight's party was no different. Rhysand and Feyre lounged on their thrones, heads leaned together as they surveyed their dominion. In all honesty, it wasn't much to behold. Drunk fae crowded together on the ballroom floor, courtly dances forgotten for the preferred grinding and undulating of the underground folk. This wouldn't be so bad, honestly, had Y/N not experienced being a young female here. But those memories of being treated like chattel were impossible to forget.

Her only saving grace was the mask perched upon her face. Though it was clear who she was, to the untrained eye, she was just another noble female of the abundant court. While it attracted more males to her side, she had an easier time turning them down. And an easier time avoiding her father, who lurked in the shadows somewhere beyond the High Lord and Lady's thrones. Which was for the best, because he would surely comment on her presentation in night court black, with mother of pearl weighing down her skirts and the mask on her nose. The creamy white was even scattered through her hair, marking her as someone important, but someone forgettable. That was how she'd prefer to stay.

She felt a gentle nudge, barely there, against her shoulder. Without turning, she knew who was there.

"Anything interesting happening behind the scenes?" She asked, still facing the dance floor.

"Nothing you'd want to know about," came Azriel's low reply, laced with a chuckle. "Plenty of sex. And plenty of fear."

"Can practically smell it."

"It reeks," he agreed. "Rhys does that."

She snorted. "It's because they don't trust in Keir to lead them that they fear Rhysand."

"Don't let anyone else hear you say that. They'll mutiny." Y/N was always able to bring out the smirk in Azriel. They got on well that way, and worked even more closely together than Az did with Cassian. Together, the three of them were an unstoppable team.

Observing the rolling mass of bodies, inhaling the stench of faerie wine and sweat, Y/N sighed. "Just wish it were less hedonistic down here. Not that our lives are particularly savory, but just..."

"It feels too heavy and forced down here," Azriel said gently, stepping up to her side and slipping his arm through hers. "Like they're made to do it. Like they relish in the pain that Keir brings them."

She drew him close. "They probably know no different," she murmured.

A moment of silence passed as they watched the crowd, as they observed their friends across the cavernous space. Then, Azriel said, "I'd ask you to dance, but I just don't think this is your style."

She barked a laugh. "Not quite, no."

Though not as talented as Nesta Archeron, Y/N had been trained as a young female to dance in the classic ballroom style, to a formal orchestra and before a crowd housing endless royalty. She'd been made to dance more than once before Rhysand's father, who had relished in forcing Keir's daughters to perform for him. It did not bring back good memories, but she had enjoyed the movement. She found moments of rhythm and dance even now, in her training above ground. She had never forgotten the feel of the music sliding against her bones, and she hoped she never would.

The minutes ticked by. In rotation, the Inner Circle floated past Y/N, checking in. Azriel departed, and Mor soon after approached, cup of mead in hand for her sister. Y/N took it gratefully, and the two damned princesses stood, shoulder to shoulder, observing the dark splendor. Finally, finally, the evening was drawing to a close, It had been hours, and Rhysand had finally shifted in his seat, signaling he would soon stand to leave. But just before he could, the floor cleared.

Still at her post opposite the thrones, Y/N glanced around, gauging the crowd. They had withdrawn bowed, as if they'd been ordered, but they chattered nervously. Clearly, something was meant to happen. Whether Rhys and Feyre knew or not, Y/N couldn't judge from their expressions.

From the crowd, he stepped. Crimson siphons gleaming, scaled armor traded in for soft formal leathers, hair soft and eye gleaming, General Cassian of the Night Court armies stepped forth, hand held aloft.

His eyes met none but hers.

Y/N stared back at him, a breathless laugh escaping her lungs. "Cass?"

"Don't make me look an idiot, Y/N," he said, a smile hiding the nerves that shone through his hazel eyes. "Come dance with me."

"But -"

"No buts," he said. "Just c'mere."

Y/N couldn't believe what she was seeing. Cassian had been missing in action all night, and now he was asking her to dance? Before the entire court? She had never seen him dance, and she'd probably laugh if she had. He was famous for his two left feet, and his fumbling compliments. She would know better than anyone else; as his best friend, his confidant, his partner in politics, she knew him better than most. And she'd thought she'd known him better than to ever expect him to ask her to dance.

Yet, as her closest friend, the one that understood her to her core, Cassian knew she would never say no to him.

As he stood before her, crooked grin on his face, hand outstretched, he watched her flounder only a moment before she straightened and laid her hand gracefully in his. Her grin matched his own.

"Better not trip me, Pigeon."

Cassian didn't have the chance to respond as the orchestra struck up the song he'd chosen for this moment. The prelude began, and ever proper, Y/N withdrew to drop into a low curtsy, her black skirts spread over the marble floor. Cassian bowed low at the waist, though his eyes never left hers. Hidden there, in their depths, was laughter.

The first movement began, and Cassian took Y/N by the waist and swept her into the dance. A waltz-like thing, it sent them spinning and gliding across the entirety of the floor, which had been cleared entirely. The whole court was watching them, and yet Y/N could only see him.

"I always thought it was strange how people talked when they danced," said Cassian lowly, "but now I think I get it."

"No one can hear us out here," she agreed. "Perfect for sharing secrets. Like where you learned to do this?"

He sent her spinning, and her trained feet knew the steps well. After a moment, she came back to him. He stumbled, but only just. "Well, Mor told me how you'd learned, and I know how much you hate it here." He shrugged. "I figured I'd try to make this Solstice visit memorable for you. In a good way."

She smiled up at him, eyes crinkling. "I mean where you learned to dance. Don't think all that training adds up to this."

At this, he turned pink. "I asked your sister to teach me."

A laugh bubbled up, unstoppable. "How long did that take?"

"Only about three months."

"Cassian!!" She cried in disbelief.

"Listen," he chuckled, giving her another spin. By this point in their talking, he'd already stepped on her feet more than once, but she could not bring herself to mind in the least. "I wanted to learn! And maybe I'm terrible at dancing, but I did learn this little number."

"I'm proud of you," Y/N complimented, leading him through the next few steps with a gentle hand. She turned serious "And thank you, Cass. Really. You -" She paused, swallowed. "You don't know what it means."

The orchestra (conveniently) slowed, flowing into the second movement of the piece, and they followed suit. They moved with the gentle fluidity of a mountain stream, and Cassian pressed his forehead to hers.

"I want to," he whispered, just for her. "I want to know everything that goes on in that pretty head. I want to know you, Y/N."

Y/N took pause. She and Cassian had been the best of friends for centuries. They had been constant companions during Rhys's fifty years Under the Mountain. And despite it all, she had hoped against hope that perhaps someday, his feelings would blaze to life like hers had. That he could see her as she saw him - everything.

"You can't just say those things," she breathed with a nervous chuckle.

"Don't tell me what I can't say, Y/N," Cassian said, will everstrong. "You know exactly what I mean."

"How could you possibly think I know what you mean?" She countered, put off by his tone. "If I've ever -"

"Elain told me," he interrupted. "How you feel about me."

Y/N gasped, her chest closing in on itself in panic. Elain was a close friend, one who was usually a vault when it came to secrets.

"She didn't mean to," Cassian amended quickly. "Azriel got her too drunk at Rita's one night, and she started talking." He shook his head, cursing. "I shouldn't have fucking said a thing. Look, if I've got this wrong -"

"No!" She blurted, before thinking. She recovered, but barely, as the dance picked up once more. "No, she's right. I'm just surprised she said anything, is all."

"... She's right?"

With as much confidence as she could muster, heart pounding, chest aching, Y/N straightened in his grip and said, "Yes, she is. As much as this could fuck up everything, I have loved you since you saved my sister. Maybe even before. And I was so lucky to have you as my friend that I couldn't bear to say a word for fear of losing you."

A slow, hesitant smile on his rugged, handsome face. "You love me?"

He tripped, his foot catching on her dress, and stumbled. He was laughing before he could right himself, and they both gave up the steps of the dancing, holding each other before the entire Court of Nightmares.

"Yeah, idiot, I do," she confirmed.

"I love you," he breathed, palm rising to cradle her cheek. "Have for not as long as you, but long enough for it to hurt."

"And long enough for you to learn to waltz."

His laugh echoed around the chamber, booming even over the music. The orchestra continued on, playing into the conclusion of the piece. Their time on the floor had felt like an eternity wrapped in a heartbeat, where truth suspended time like water.

"Long enough for me to learn to waltz," he repeated. His mask had been abandoned long ago, forsaken for the sweat it gathered. With brazen sureness, he lifted Y/N's mask, setting it atop her immaculately decorated head, and murmured, "I'm gonna kiss you now, Y/N/N. Don't make me look an idiot."

"You've never been an idiot, Cass, and I certainly won't make you one now."

And when his mouth met hers, it was chapped and raw and warm and strong. Everything she had always loved about him, she tasted on his lips, his tongue. Everything she had wanted to be protected by, she felt in the strength of his hand around her waist. Everything she had wanted to keep safe, she heard in the soft sound that fled his throat. In the gentle murmur of her name repeated back to her against her flesh.

Cassian couldn't dance for shit, but he was no idiot. He knew love when he held it in his two hands. He knew to cherish it close.

[fortheloveofowen]

Dating Luke Patterson Would Include...

Summary: Basically just some super fluffy dating Luke content. This is post Caleb's curse being lifted because my love language is touch lol

Warnings: None just pure fluff :)

Note: I'm a hoe for the plot that y/n could see the boys just like Julie so I'm sticking w/ it

Just a cute little short thing for ya! Happy belated 4/20 if you celebrated (I sure did lol)!

𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪𓆩♡𓆪

Luke had known very quickly that he was in love with you

The way your smile seemed to brighten up the room and the way you absentmindedly combed out his hair when his head had landed in your lap as you sat on the couch

He watched the clock ticking on the wall of Julie's studio diligently as he waited for you to make your entrance, having never missed a practice

Usually, he would smoothly lean back in his seat, keeping that same cocky smirk on his face that he had always given you

But today Luke knew he needed to finally come to terms with his feelings for you

You quickly made your way through the doorframe, walking over to the beat up couch where you had spent countless nights

After practice, Luke had pulled you aside, his anxiety visible trough his reddened cheeks

"Hey, can we uhm talk in the loft... privately..."

The climb up to the loft seemed to have taken 25 years as you both nervously reached the platform

Both of you threw your legs over the wooden railing as your three friends exited the studio

His left hand lazily played with the silver rings on his right hand as he opened his mouth to speak, but not finding the right words to say

"Everything alright, Luke?" y/n slid their hand into Luke's still fidgeting one

"I'm just gonna come out and say it, I am so damn in love with you and have been for such a long time. And if you find this weird th-th-then we can just forget all about it, yeah?"

Luke had expected a kiss that night, but Reggie's clumsy eavesdropping skills caused the three of them to crash through the door only moments after the confession

Your first kiss would be after a show only a few days later, his sweaty body plopping itself next to you on the couch

"Ew get off of me, you stink!" You squealed as Luke pressed his sweaty hair into the side of your neck

"Mmmm but I'm so sleepy, baby..." he mumbled into your neck in a groggy tone, his breath sending shivers down your spine every time he'd finish a sentence

Luke leaned up and kissed your cheek, making sure the sweat that had collected on his upper lip spread across your flushed face before pushing you down against the couch

Your voices were a mix of laughter and arguments as Luke pressed his fingers into your ribs, tickling you with no mercy

"Stop, stop! Luke!" You cackled out before he leaned forward and once again placed his face in the crook of your neck

"Y/n, I really wanna kiss you right now..." He mumbled lifting his face to hover closely over your face

You nodded before reaching up to pull him into the most butterfly-inducing kiss either of you had experience

All of the members love the fact that you both have each other

We all know how reserved Luke can be with serious issues in his life, but he will always run to you first

Alex and Reggie look at you as family and you honestly could not ask for more. Alex is your go-to when Luke is riding his high horse and needs to be knocked back a couple of levels. And Reggie is always there when you have those days when talking isn't required, building you pillows forts and watching your favorite movies

You had been friends with Julie long before you had even met the boys, having known both you and Flynn for about the same amount of time. You had always preferred the more "artistic" stuff, which was perfect when Flynn asked for your help upping their stage design.

Get used to having countless songs written about you

"Hey babe! Listen to this?" "Baby, I wrote this for you..."

Constant reassurance

This man will never let you be insecure. He could never imagine a single flaw, so how could you? Lots of time spent in front of the mirror after showering together where he points out everything he loves about you

Overall just the most vomit-inducingly sweet relationship you've ever seen. Luke loves you with his whole heart and there is no way he will ever let you go.

[antebunny]

There’s something wrong with Jason. 

Early autumn of Cass’s first full year as Bruce Wayne’s daughter. Trees droop, browned and unbearably brittle, onto the cracked sidewalks. Children skip and slouch and trudge their way back into classrooms for another dull year of learning. The exception is Cass, happily at home with Barbara and Bruce, Tim and Steph and Dick and all the new members of her new family. None of them know quite how old Cass is, and resolutely refuse to have anything to do with Lady Shiva or David Cain, the only people who could tell them. But Barbara went to bat for Cass, arguing that the American education system was not beneficial for all American children, much less Cass, who was still adjusting, as Barbara put it. Learning to come out of her shell. So there’ll be no school for Cass this autumn or any autumn. Only apple cider and hot cocoa, safely tucked away by the fifth fake fireplace of Wayne Manor, curling up in window frames just to listen to the psithurism before the rain, and a flood of scarves and mittens and boots as every member of her family tries to prepare her for the incoming Gotham winter. 

Personally, Cass doesn’t get why introverts are always encouraged to become more extroverted. She thinks extroverts should be told to shut the hell up more often. Perhaps it is an American thing, she muses, but then, she loves her new family for their relentless positivity and inability to shut the hell up. From Steph, who drags her on girl’s night after girl’s night with Barbara, Harley, and all the other crazy girls of Gotham who want to paint their toenails neon purple with little stars and crack skulls open just to feel something. (Whenever Harley robs a department store she always sends Cass a dress she thinks she’ll like in the mail. Bruce always gives her a look, sends it back, then buys ten variations of the same dress). To Tim, who is hard at work learning ASL so they can communicate better and shares all of his embarrassing interests with her. Niche anime, questionable manga, decrepit video games, card games, board games, and a stash of Batman and Robin photos he swears her to secrecy over. To Dick, who remains upbeat and cheerful in the face of all her silences and stony stares. He always makes time to take her (and usually some of his other little siblings) to a pizza parlor, or an ice cream parlor, or an abandoned parking lot perfect for doing donuts. Dick Grayson is a busy man who gained most of his current family after turning eighteen and losing most of them beforehand. Yet his heart opens, bottomless and sincere, for every new orphan that shows up on Bruce’s doorstep. When he drops by Cass’s ballet studio, exhaustion crinkling in every forehead line and eye wrinkle, how can she not love him back? 

So she takes it personally when Jason continues to avoid them. Perhaps she could ignore it if it was clear that he wanted nothing to do with them, no matter how much the others missed him. But everytime they run into Jason it is clear to Cass that he misses them fiercely. She may not be an expert on the standard personality and behavioral ticks of Jason Todd, but she is an expert on body language, and everything about Jason screams bad, wrong, liar, liar, LIAR–

Cass goes to Barbara. 

These days Barbara spend the vast majority of her time in the Clocktower. Ever since the Joker, Cass has been told, and hung up the Batgirl cape. She rotates between the library and the tower, retreating from regular life while her law degree collects dust. And even though Dick gets sad whenever he see her, and Barbara feels guilty and helplessly furious, he never says anything. The two of them dance around in silent conversations–I love you, I know, I’m sorry–that start all over again the next time they see each other. As if Cass can’t tell.

“Cass! So good to see you.” Barbara smiles and wheels herself over to the window when Cass drops in unannounced. She’s in pain.

Cass is not a vigilante but she was trained to kill them. When she takes to the rooftops of Gotham, she wears a nondescript black mask. She shucks this mask off now so that Barbara can see her face and plods over to her dearest friend and surrogate mother. Steph tells her the term is “mom friend” and not to get weird about it, but Cass believes she’s well beyond the point of being considered weird. 

“Jason,” Cass announces. 

She leans down awkwardly to hug Barbara, so she misses everything that is said in response. By the time she straightens, Barbara’s face worries, deep emotional lines of someone whose loved ones spend 80% of their time in mortal peril, and her body twitches backwards, itching for the long row of computers and tech equipment on the far wall. Barbara is concerned about Jason, but she believes the trouble lies in whatever Jason’s doing right now. That she’ll know what to do with just a little cyberstalking. But Cass’s concern is more long-term than that. 

“Is there something wrong with Jason?” Barbara’s cadence indicates that this is not the first time she’s spoken. Oops. Cass missed her out-loud words because she was so busy paying attention to what Barbara was actually saying.

Cass points at the computers. She doesn’t know how to explain it with words.

Barbara takes the hint and wheels back over to her computer lab, where she pulls up all the surveillance footage she can of Jason’s usual haunts until she finds him disappearing up the fire escape of an old brick apartment building in the very edge of Burnley. Any further south and he’ll be in Gotham’s Upper East Side, and Jason can’t stand that neighborhood. 

As Robin, Jason had to be bullied into the Diamond District and the Upper West Side, but Bruce dragged him into Chinatown to practice his Cantonese and Jason went to Old Gotham willingly for the vibe. A lot of gargoyles, Cass has been told. Worn bricks, gothic spires, flying buttresses, and properly intimidating gargoyles for brooding. There is so much that Cass knows about Jason from other people. The reverse cannot be said, because Jason doesn’t really talk to them anymore. 

Barbara boots up a drone from the Bat-hideout closest to Jason’s apartment and flies it over. It’s a lovely little three-room apartment on the third floor of an old brick apartment building. One bedroom and one bathroom, which Barbara does not attempt to enter, and a kitchen/living room area. All the furniture in the living room looks new. A comfy armchair, two bookcases overflowing with newly-purchased novels, shiny new wood cabinets and a marble finish to the kitchen island. Three wooden stools, two of them as sturdy as the day they were bought. 

Remotely, she and Cass peer through the window as Jason makes his guns disappear before he reaches his kitchen island. Stripped down to a form-fitting black shirt and brown pants, Jason washes his hands, preheats the oven, and sets about making lemon and herb salmon.

“This looks pretty normal to me,” says Barbara.

Jason slides into one of the wooden stools around his marble kitchen island counter. He drums his fingers on the marble. He checks the time on his phone. The salmon, now covered in garlic, thyme, and rosemary and such, is still baking in the oven. 

“He’s just making himself dinner,” Barbara observes. She won’t call Cass a liar, but this isn’t worthy of the label “trouble.” 

She doesn’t see it. Cass is at a loss. If Barbara cannot see what is in front of her eyes, how can Cass possibly explain it? 

“Look,” Cass insists. 

After checking the time on his phone again, Jason gets up and paces. At over six feet tall, he makes his cozy apartment seems small. He picks a book out of his shelf, seemingly at random. He examines the cover. Frankenstein by Mary Shelley. He puts the book back and resumes pacing the perimeter of his small home. 

Barbara sighs. “I don’t understand.”

She wants Cass to be able to just spit it out, but won’t say so because she knows Cass cannot. They’ve reached a stalemate. 

Here is what Cass cannot articulate: Jason Todd is lonely. Loneliness is built into Jason’s bones. It gathers in his bed at night like a soldier returning from war. It lashes at the confines of his self-imposed cage. When the loneliness threatens to break him, it explodes in the form of rage at anyone who dares to be near him. Ah, but what a liar that rage makes of him. Claiming he loves nothing and no one when all Jason has ever done is love. Raging against the state of his beloved city, fury at the father he will not forgive, and hate–blackened love–for those he once called family. A cruel, self-perpetuated cycle. The lonely drives him to rage which in self-delusion to hide his shame he lies about until everyone learns to stay away. Thus creating more loneliness for Jason to feast in until he inevitably withers away from eating nothing but emptiness. 

And Cass fears she is the only one who sees it. But Jason is a fool for thinking no one else understands. Is Cass not the unwanted daughter of a world-class assassin and the wanted weapon of a monster? Her first months in Gotham she did nothing but drive people away because she didn’t know any better. The only reason she has good people around her now is because there is something so irrefutably good about the Bats. Barbara never withdrew her hand even when Cass bit her literally and metaphorically. Bruce took her in without a second thought for her background. Tim tries his hardest to be a good brother to her even when he’s hurting. Steph and Dick didn’t blink twice at the half-feral, non-verbal, former assassin addition to their family. They bring their good cheer out for Cass even when she can tell it’s fake, and she can always tell. 

So why does Jason, who is hurting and so lonely that it hurts Cass to look at him, insist on pushing them away? 

[coca-lastic]

His Beautiful Green Eyes | F. Odair

Summary: The day that all the children of Panem fear is approaching and the only way not to sink into a hole of worry is to look into his beautiful green eyes.

Tw: Young love (No relationship, just falling in love), brief mention of trauma, use of nickname "flower", no use of y/n.

A/n: First of all, my first language is not English, so if I make any spelling mistakes I would appreciate if you could help me correct them <3. And, although it is not that important, you would help me a lot by liking, following and reblogging me ^^.

Sometimes such a happy moment can have such a sad context. Something as beautiful as a hug between two young people who love each other can have so much history behind it. The tears in the girl's eyes can contain such heartbreaking fear. And the way the boy's body shakes may contain such a tragic future.

They are just two 14-year-old children scared by what can happen, by what can come towards them, by the future they do not want and by the darkness that exists in their destinies.

It's just two children holding each other before letting go and moving into the arms of the other family members.

You see, Finnick's family and your family always decide to prevent quick goodbyes. No one knows who will be called the next day, no one knows who will be called directly to death. For this reason, the two families - or even, thanks to how much they love each other despite not having the same last name, a single family - the day before the reaping meet at a small party, enjoy meals from the 4th, dances, of songs that only they understand, of happiness that only they share.

And at the moment when the party must end and everyone must face reality, the warm and strong hugs of each member of the family feel like a shield. A shield against the future.

Each hug is comforting, but his hug is simply magical. It is a hug that says more than a simple "good luck", it is a hug that shows affection, love, fear, sadness, trepidation, warmth, comfort...

"What if... What if tomorrow one of our names is called Finn?" You cried, resting your head on his shoulder. It was not the perfect time to cry, the two families were around the two little ones observing their actions with teary eyes.

"Everything is going to be fine. We've been fine the other two years and we have few papers, there are thousands of other kids here..." Finnick started rubbing his hand against your back. He remained strong, comforting you. Perl you felt his body shake against yours, his voice a little rough, trying to keep it from breaking, and his eyebrows furrowed, avoiding crying.

"Come on, tomorrow is a difficult day, you better rest" Your mother said, wiping away some tears that had slipped down her cheek.

"Rose, can I stay here?" Finnick pleaded with your mother, "I swear I won't kick her daughter out of her bed this time." That's a funny anecdote, one that you hoped was just one of many others that you two deserved to have.

"It's okay Finnick. But tomorrow you have to get up early to get ready."

"Yes ma'am" Finnick stood firm, even at a time like this he never stops doing the hardest things that come into his head.

"Finn, follow me, I'm going to show you something" you ran towards the stairs, heading towards your room. "Look what I drew."

You were a good drawer. Plus, drawing always helped you fight stress. On days like this there were few moments when you didn't have a pencil in your hand.

You showed Finnick a drawing, a beautiful drawing of the moon. The moon was so beautiful, a simple satellite that can cause such beautiful landscapes. A landscape so beautiful that even on dark nights it is there to give you a touch of light. The moon made you wish that that night would last forever and the reaping day would never come.

"It's beautiful, flower. I envy your talent." He pouted as he threw himself against your bed. "How can you draw that in such a short time?

"It's just practice and patience Finn, maybe if one day you learn to sit still without having to start moving like a small trapped dog, and just maybe, you could draw" you lay down next to him, facing each other.

"I'm not that restless"

"Yes Yes you are"

"Yes, yes I am. But you love me that way so...it doesn't matter."

You let out a small nasal rose. You couldn't keep a small smile off your face. For a few seconds the hunger games didn't matter, only him and his beautiful eyes mattered.

Those green eyes. They were so deep, if you analyzed them well they had different tones, mostly greenish, but there were also some turquoise and blue. His eyes looked at you with so much happiness, with affection and love, perhaps not the love with which you saw him, but there was love.

“Games should disappear forever,” you said, not looking away, just a simple comment that had reached your brain.

"Oh good idea, let me call the president and tell him that the games should be canceled because a girl in district 4 said so."

"You're too stupid, Finnick, you should graduate as a clown, you idiot."

"Ouch, when did we get so aggressive flower?"

"I hate you" Lie. And he knew it was a lie, everyone knew it. He knew it because at this point it is impossible for you to hate him, but he also knew it because after telling him you hugged him, as if your words were never said.

"Awwww, that's the nicest thing you've said to me in the last year" Lie. And you knew that was a lie because there wasn't a day that you weren't stuck to him like gum.

"Finn...what if we can never do this again?" You looked up a little to see his eyes again.

"What's the point of thinking about that? Maybe we're worrying about anything, flower. Let's just enjoy the moment." Of course, worrying about nothing, nothing will happen to you two.

"Enjoy the moment...nope, that's impossible when the moment is with someone like you"

"Oh shut up!" He said, turning his back and covering himself with the blanket, feigning anger. "I'm going to sleep, good night."

"You're sensitive, let's keep talking, maybe it's our last night together and we won't enjoy the moment" and once again you hugged him with a smile on your face, forcing him to turn his face and your eyes meet his eyes again. His beautiful green eyes.

"We shouldn't have stayed up all night talking, I told you," Finnick said walking next to you. They had spent the rest of the night joking and hugging. That was incredible, but it had consequences; Now they were both half asleep walking towards the reaping site, the moment was getting closer and the only thing your teenage mind thought about was how handsome your friend looked in his semi-formal clothes.

"Whatever, when we get home we can sleep. Should we go to your house or mine?"

"My mom is going to prepare the fish that my dad caught yesterday, she will probably invite your family" Finnick paused for a moment. They had already arrived at the place and the accumulation of children was enormous, their parents were a few meters behind, they were about to enter the family area.

"Ok, see you there then"

"Yeah...well, I guess we just have to have good luck."

"May the odds always be on your side Finn" You laughed at the stupid phrase from the capitol, it was time to separate from your friend, each of you should go to his area.

He just looked at you with a smile, with his eyes a little red and extended his arms towards you inviting you to say goodbye properly.

You obviously headed straight into his arms, hugging him with more affection than you could explain. "Good luck Finn. Today I want to eat fish with you, not without you" you slowly separated from the hug trying to keep the tears from your eyes.

"That's how it will be flower. See you"

"See you"

Each one went to their respective area. From your place you couldn't locate Finnick, but you knew that he would be close to you thanks to being the same age as you, only on the other side, in the men's section.

"Welcome, welcome" said the girl from the capitol, full of exaggerated makeup and once extravagant timing. "Welcome to the reaping of the 65th hunger games!" She shuts up and gets to the point.

After an introductory talk and the same video as every fucking year, the time came. It made you want to vomit and suddenly dizzy. Your body shook and your eyes began to blur. You just wanted to get out of there, meet Finnick and eat fish.

"As always, girls first," the nausea was horrible, you just wanted me to digest the name and it was that of some random girl from the district. And maybe thanks to the probabilities, or maybe thanks to the universe, that's how it was. "Adella Humbort!" Unfortunately you knew her, she was two years older than you and you bought her clothes at the town market. But you were grateful with all your soul that your name had not been called.

You moved around, looking for Finnick, you wanted to show him that you were still there and not standing on the stage. When you managed to move to the edge of the area, you saw him. He was also moving to the limit to be able to see you, he smiled at you, those smiles that if they managed to kill you would probably already be in your fourth life. His marked dimples, his illuminated eyes and his radiant teeth. You smiled back, you were still nervous but at least not as much as before. You didn't hear what the escort asked Adella, but it was probably the same thing as always, her age and some silly compliments.

"And now, for the boys..."

You looked back at the stage, your nausea had gone but your shaking body persisted. The escort took out a paper and cleared her throat. You knew everything would be okay, there was nothing to worry about. This would end and they would have a family mea-

"Finnick Odair!"

The world fell apart. It was simply unfair. Your tasting went directly towards him, Finnick did not take his eyes off the stage, in complete shock. When his head finally turned towards you you couldn't hold back your tears. No one offered as tribute. Nobody.

Watching Finnick walk towards the stage was horrible. You couldn't do anything, you wish you could but you couldn't. You saw Finnick's mother in the distance crying in your mother's arms. Your father had his arm on Finnick's father's shoulder trying to give him silent support.

That day you knew that nothing would be the same. That the odds were not on your side and that the future will not be the way you wanted it.

So it was. Finnick won the games but nothing was the same. Those beautiful green eyes that gave you so much comfort and support were now the eyes of a poor traumatized child. You noticed it as soon as you saw him win, but when he came home it was much more noticeable.

Nothing was ever the same again, Finnick tried to be strong but the nights of teasing ceased to exist, now they were just nights trying to calm him down after a nightmare. The parties before reaping day were changed by Finnick having to meet up with the other mentors. His beautiful green eyes were changed by one more eyes... empty, alone, with many thoughts and at first it seemed that none of them were positive.

The odds are never in our favor.

~~~~~~

Hey! How are you? I actually don't know what I did, but I didn't want to do the typical thing that I always imagine, I wanted to do something that is not normally a theme seen in fics. I hope you like it beautiful people <3

Finnick didn't have the odds on his side, and that makes me angry! 😀🔪