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#it hurts them but they also have to have it
sttoru · 23 hours
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⠀ 𝝑𝑒 ⠀⠀ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. bragging about your oh-so-perfect boyfriend to your friends certainly has its (welcomed) consequences. . .
tags. older bf!gojo satoru x female reader. fluff & smut. p in v -> unprotected. missionary. sweet but also nasty and condescending. creampie. body worship. size difference / - kink. nicknames ‘(little) princess, baby’. name calling once. not proof read bcs im sleepy. wc. 2k+
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“right! he’s so thoughtful,” you sigh dreamily as you chat with your friends over the phone. you’re laying on satoru’s bed, kicking your feet up while you remove your make-up. of course, you had to call your girls to tell them all about the little date you just had with your boyfriend.
satoru’s in the shower, so you’re taking the time to relive the experience.
“here she goes again y’all,” one of your friends sighs dramatically, to which the others follow with giggles of their own. they know that you can go on and on about your partner. they’ve heard all of it before.
you grin and roll your eyes, rubbing the cleansing wipe over your lips, removing the light pink gloss you had on. you’re all giddy as you recall what satoru has done and given to you this evening. you’ve been pampered—spoiled rotten.
“hey! don’t blame me,” you retort with a chuckle. your friends laugh and urge you to go on since they’re only joking. the stories you tell are always either adorable or heartwarming, and thus they’re happy to listen. plus, debriefing you on your love life is free entertainment.
it’s not unusual for you to stray from the main story. you ramble about the restaurant you’ve visited, the pretty green scenery you’ve walked past, the museum you’ve visited, the way satoru paid for everything and how he made sure to pick activities you’re interested.
you get an occasional ‘aww’ or ‘cuteee’ when you mention your boyfriend’s loving gestures. from the enormous bouquet of flowers he’s gotten you, to the fact that he carried you back into his apartment the moment you told him your feet were hurting.
walking in heels wasn’t the smart move you thought it was, though luckily you had a thoughtful lover by your side.
“he’s just so handsome ‘n stuff. god—“ you squeal, not even bothering to dampen your excitement. you hide your face behind your hands for a split second, gaining a few fan girling squeaks from your friends as well. they’re happy that you’re being treated like deserved.
you don’t hear the door of the bedroom open since you’re too busy gushing about satoru. you’re focused on your small pocket mirror, careful not to forget a spot on your face. you notice that your friends have gone quiet, but you don’t question it.
“his gentle personality is honestly such a turn-on,” you mumble as you rub off the concealer from under your eyes, “and his subtle yet possessive touches? phew, don’t get me started.” you continue to babble on about how hot satoru is when he gets mad, unable to point out a flaw.
you’re about to comment on your friends’ sudden silence when a hand lands on your shoulder. you freeze and finally make eye contact with no one other than satoru—hovering over you from behind. he’s smiling down at you and mumbles a quick, ‘hey, baby’, before kissing your forehead.
you try to explain the situation, yet have no idea where to start. you can hear a friend of yours snickering and another faintly whisper an ‘oh, girl. . .’
before you have the ability to get another word out, satoru cuts you off, waving at your front camera for a second. his smile reaches his eyes and his dimples show;
“hey ladies, mind if i steal my girl from you?” satoru asks as he puts an arm around you. he places his cheek against yours, awaiting an answer. your friends are left speechless at the sudden turn of events.
the white-haired man appears extremely good on screen. he’s basically blessing them with his handsome looks. the towel hanging over his head indicates that he just came out of a fresh shower. there’s a visible vein running down his neck—nearly bulging out of the skin—as if satoru’s holding himself back.
once your friends snap out of their daze, they greet satoru and nod, exchanging quick ‘see you later’s. your boyfriend thanks them with another one of his charming smiles. he waves at the camera again, “bye bye, thank you.”
the call ends and the bedroom falls quiet. you stare at your screen which fades to black, completely dumbfounded. you quickly sit up—your mind a chaotic mess full of thoughts.
“satoru, i uhm, i didn’t know—“ you attempt to form an explanation, though you realise that it’s likely futile. satoru’s probably heard every word that left your mouth. you look up at him, your voice a quiet whisper, “how much did you hear?”
the sorcerer grins. he’s so enamored with you; everything you do is adorable. he grabs your hands and holds then into his larger ones—thumbs gently rubbing your skin. he pulls them up to his lips so he could place chaste kisses on your knuckles.
“everything, princess,” satoru hums, rotating your hands to place kisses on the inside of your wrists. there’s a subtle blush on his cheeks that even reaches his ears. no matter how calm and collected he may seem, he’s still but a complete sucker to your love, “talking about me to your little friends, hm? how cute.”
a shiver runs down your spine. you feel your tummy turn as you’re slowly guided onto your back. multiple kisses cover your body—from head to toe—like a canvas getting painted on. satoru’s taking his sweet time, admiring the art that’s your physique.
every piece of clothing that comes off is a step closer to the grande revelation. the masterpiece that is you. moving from one empty spot - filling it with his kisses - to another. sighs of content leave your lover’s mouth with each reveal, as if he hasn’t seen the sight of your naked body before.
“does this turn you on, baby? my ‘subtle touches’?” satoru mutters against your breasts, remembering your earlier words. his blue eyes stare up at you through his white lashes. not wearing his blindfold may overstimulate him due to his abilities, but he’ll risk anything if it’s to admire you the best he can.
he chuckles when you nod. your boyfriend kisses your hard nipples—taking his time to swirl his tongue around both of them just to feel your back arch off the mattress. your hands holding onto him for life is extremely thrilling. “it turns me on too,” satoru confesses quietly. his slender fingers reach the hem of your panties, “you turn me on so fuckin’ much.”
your breath hitches when your underwear gets tossed somewhere across the room. you’re dripping, obviously. there’s no way you couldn’t get turned on by the way satoru’s been worshipping your entire being.
you can also see the effect you have on him; he’s sweating. the vein on his neck seems to grow more visible when your cunt is revealed to him.
“there she is,” satoru grins in satisfaction. he seems to be in a daze for a second before he regains composure. he looks at you for a quick check, needing to know if he has your consent before he continues. the moment you nod, your lover separates your legs.
you sniff and try to hide your embarrassed expression behind a hand. satoru’s quick to pin your wrist above your head so you wouldn’t have the chance to do any of that. “keep your eyes on me, yeah?” he leans in to place a swift kiss on your lips.
“mhm,” you nod after returning the peck. the white-haired man utters a small ‘thank you’ and undoes his sweatpants with his free hand. he fumbles with his boxers—unable to keep himself from trembling in pleasure from the view alone.
your small body underneath him is a sight he’ll never get tired of. that face of yours morphing into one of pleasure whenever you’re intimate is one of his favorite things to witness. thus why the missionary is his go to position.
“c’mon,” satoru kisses your cheek as he manages to pull his erected cock out of his underwear. it’s standing tall, the tip pointing right at the place it wants to be buried at—your wet, warm and inviting pussy, “you were so loud when talking with y’r friends ‘n now you’ve gone quiet on me.”
satoru pouts, “it’s not fair. i wanna hear my princess too.”
you almost choke on your spit because of how whiny yet demanding satoru sounds. you feel his fingers intertwine with yours, firmly holding your hand down above your head. you’re still flustered by the entire situation. you open your mouth as tears gather in your eyes, “i’m sorry, i’m jus— ngh!”
you can’t even get your words out. the lewd feeling of satoru rubbing his tip between your folds completely catches you off guard. he grins, as if he planned on doing that the moment you tried to speak. he’s such a tease.
“shh, shh, i know,” satoru coos mockingly, acting like he’s not doing it on purpose. you can’t blame the man; he’s been rock hard ever since he heard you praise him so openly through the phone. your lovely voice speaking so highly of him was driving him nuts.
you’re so appreciative for all he’s doing and it makes the sorcerer want to spoil you even more. to give you the love and affection you deserve because of how precious you are—even if you don’t realise it.
he wants to give you more. more, more, more.
without thinking, satoru pushes his cock right through your tight cunt. he shudders at the sight of your poor, small pussy struggling to take his fat dick. he can’t hurt you, he knows. especially with the amount of times the bulbous head of his cock nearly bruised your cervix.
though, it’s difficult not to go all out. you’re so accepting of everything he does—satoru can see that by the way your eyes stare at him. it’s all love. the light reflecting in your pupils makes them sparkle beautifully. he cusses under his breath, “y’re so pretty, baby. fuck, fuck, fuck. y’re making it so hard.”
satoru tries his best not to plunge his cock all the way to the hilt. he reaches halfway with each thrust, the thwacking sound increasing by the second. your legs automatically wrap around his waist and your fingers squeeze his.
“toruuu, fmhh, so big,” you babble, the drool forming in the corners of your lips threatening to drip down your chin. each soft yet firm thrust seems to resonate within you, evoking a sense of pleasurable contentment.
satoru lets out a haughty chuckle at the sight of you going cockdrunk already. he’s still trying to hold his urges back by focusing on your satisfaction alone. “i’ll give you something else to brag ‘bout to y’r friends,” he pants with a confident smirk, kissing your jawline as he ruts into you,
you’re embarrassed by your current predicament. despite that, you find yourself enjoying every consequence that your actions have caused. your moans echo in satoru’s ears, each slap of your bodies connecting sounding twice as loud.
his thick cock is stretching you out so well. your cunt is working overtime to make space for every inch. your boyfriend gently bites your bottom lip, his breath faltering when you clench around him in response.
“‘re ya gonna tell them?” satoru asks through a guttural moan. his hips move non-stop, aiming to please you until you lose your mind. he’ll live up to the expectations set no matter what. he kisses the swell of your breasts, “are ya gonna tell ‘em how you let your ‘lovely’ boyfriend fuck you like this? how y’re a complete slut for his cock?”
you don’t know how to react to his dirty talk. it’s getting you wetter, that’s for sure. your thighs shake around his waist and your tummy feels like it’s doing flips. satoru doesn’t leave it there, “gonna tell them about how good i fill you up, yeah? dirty little girl telling all her friends about our private life, tsk tsk.”
it’s overwhelming. the sudden increase in dirty talk makes you want to cum on spot. you feel like you’re being degraded, however satoru’s touches make you feel appreciated and loved. his hand holding yours above your head never leaves you—a sign that this is still him making love to you.
“am—am not gonna,” you hiccup. the words simply roll of your tongue without much thought. you’re mindlessly responding to your lover. “am not gonna tell them anything,” you continue before cutting yourself off with a string of whiny moans when satoru plays with your clit.
satoru shakes his head, increasing the pressure and speed in which he’s pumping into you. he loves the view of you being so helpless—succumbing to the pleasure he’s granting you. “sureeee, i believe you,” your boyfriend snickers and pushes his pulsing cock in further. his tone is soft but condescending, “i’ll trust my little princess to keep her mouth shut f’me.”
you’re getting so close. your nails dig into his skin and your noises get louder. you’re right on the edge of euphoria. the clit stimulation along with the feeling of being filled to the brim is enough to make you see stars.
satoru nods at your desperate whimpers that alarm him that you’re close to climax. “i got you, baby. cum f’me—i got you,” he places sloppy kisses all over your face and rams his cock in and out of you in a stronger rhythm. there’s nothing satoru wants to do in this world more than to flood your insides with his cum.
his cock doesn’t stop prodding at your sweet spots and it’s making you approach that peak; the peak of pleasure that’s going to push you over the edge. you hold tightly onto your lover and he doesn’t hesitate to return the embrace. “it’s okay, do it f’me,” satoru encourages you once again through a husky whisper.
you’re thankful that you have such an attentive partner. he can go from teasing you to comforting you and it’s the most reassuring thing ever. you’ve never had a man hold you so intimately while he’s balls deep into you.
“g’nna cum,” a strangled moan leaves your throat when you try to speak. your chests are pressed together and your heartbeats match—like the perfect pair you are. satoru feels his balls clench with an aching feeling, needing to release every last drop they have stored into your tiny cunt.
just thinking about the way you were bragging about him again, is enough. “take it—fuuuckk—take it all, baby,” the white-haired man takes a deep breath in and can’t help but bury his entire dick inside of you, that one last thrust making you yelp.
you reach your climaxes at the exact same time. your fluids mix as you feel satoru’s thick spurts of cum coat your insides a sticky white. your body spasms and your boyfriend instantly soothes you by rubbing your back. his own legs are trembling a little, but you’re far more important.
you don’t utter a word and simply focus on regaining your energy. all that you can say are incoherent babbles. “easy,” satoru kisses the corners of your eyes and relishes in the fact that he’s fucked you full of his cum. it’s a reminder of just how much he loves you.
a few encouraging words and hugs later and you’ve calmed down. you don’t fully grasp the reality of the situation until the adrenaline and other hormones drop down to a normal level.
you’re suddenly reminded by your previous words and this time, you succeed in hiding your face into the crook of satoru’s neck.
it’s certain that he’s greatly enjoyed overhearing you talk about him to your friends, but it’s still a somewhat embarrassing memory you wish to forget. “not a word, please. j-jus act like you haven’t heard anything,” you mumble quietly now that you’ve come down from your high.
satoru laughs softly. he can’t help but tease you after that—it’s a given. you’re still so caught up on what happened and it’s endearing.
however, satoru wouldn’t be him if he didn’t tease you about your little comments. without pulling out, he tilts his head back and stares down at you with a faint grin, “do i have to act like i haven’t fucked you silly just now too?”
“satoru!”
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satowooo · 2 days
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HATE THAT I LOVE YOU || part 4
mean!ryomen sukuna x fem!reader
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It's already a part of Sukuna's personality to be mean, always throwing insults at every person he finds annoying here and there. And you were no exception. You ran after him like a lovesick puppy, happily smiling at his rejections, confessing to him multiple times how much you like him, and Sukuna wanted so much to strangle you for your persistence.
But when you stopped showing interest, maybe... just maybe, Sukuna didn't like the sound of it.
contents: sukuna x reader, soft!reader, mean!sukuna, hurt/slight angst, modern college AU, jealous sukuna, sukuna and yuji are siblings
warning: cursing, suggestive
previous chapter — next chapter
***
“YOU SAID WHAT?!”
Sukuna let out an ‘ow’ when Yuji landed a smack on the back of his head. He glared at his brother, smacking his hands away as well.
“I told her not to get ideas. Tsk.”
Another smack. Earning another glare from Sukuna. Sukuna raised his hand to hit Yuji, in which the latter blocked with a pillow.
Yuji cannot believe how dumb his brother is. For someone as mean and cold as him, Yuji's shocked by how he can be so stupid when it comes to the girl he likes.
But then, Sukuna doesn't even admit to himself if he likes you anyways.
And that's just all Yuji can think of. Dumb, dumb, and dumb. His brother. His own brother.
“Be honest with me.” Yuji sat upright, hands on his knees as he looked at Sukuna. “You like her.”
It wasn't even a question, but more of a declaration. He is clearly stating the things that Sukuna can't see with his own eyes, and he wants to help before it's too late.
“It's so obvious,” He added. “You look at her differently now.”
Sukuna raised an eyebrow, his eyes showing curiosity about what he meant. “How?”
“Like you want her attention. Everytime she looks away, you're always peeking a glance at her– AND DON'T EVEN DENY IT!” Yuji smacked his brother's head once again, seeing how Sukuna was about to protest.
This time, Sukuna stayed silent, recalling back to when he started showing some signs to her.
He can't even deny it anymore.
Everyday, his eyes tried to search for the girl who used to wait for him to come to school every morning, and it hurt a little when he didn't see you anywhere you should be. When you walk across the hallway, he'd sometimes expect you to interrupt a conversation that he's having with Suguru like you used to, and ask if Sukuna can spare you a bit of your time, but you don't. And it's irritating him so much.
How long can his fake hatred go on?
It was just another day at campus, and isn't he just so lucky that he happens to sit beside you during free time? Everyone was at the field, the basketball team playing at the court as nearly half the population of the school watched and gawked over the MVP player with the number 7 and the name Gojo on his jersey. Everyone's eyes were on him, even yours.
You watched the player, whose last name was Gojo, dunk the ball and successfully shoot them down the ring as everyone cheered. You stared in awe, somehow amazed at how talented that player was.
Unbeknownst to you, Sukuna was side-eyeing your reaction, watching the way you try to contain your gasps every time that Gojo guy scores. He rolls his eyes at the blue eyed guy, who was smugly bumping fists with his teammates, sending flying kisses over the girls. He can't believe you were also being swayed by a man like him.
“What's good about him?”
“What? Are you talking to me?”
“What?” Sukuna was taken back when you turned to him with a confused face. He didn't mean to let his thoughts slip, but here he is now, there's not turning back, is there? Besides, he wants to know your answer nonetheless. “I said, what's so good about him? Do you like him or something?” He said with faked annoyance.
You chuckled, shrugging your shoulders. “He’s really handsome.”
Sukuna’s shoulder tensed, thank the gods you weren't looking when his mouth fell open upon your answer. And you don't even look like you're kidding, which baffles him even more as he watches your eyes follow the white haired figure of a man that he's starting to loathe now. You just have no idea how you finally have this effect on him, and it's not even funny.
“You're pathetic.” He muttered, but you still heard him, earning a frown from you. You moved away from him, keeping one seat apart.
Sukuna is just the unluckiest man ever. It's your finals week, so technically, either none or only two teachers would attend class because all of them would be busy manipulating the grading sheets. So now, he finds himself seated again beside you, for a random reason that the seat next to yours was the first thing he saw and immediately sat down to it, watching another game of that blue eyed man who you seem to have heart eyes on.
It was unbelievable, how you're smiling at a man that's not Sukuna. And in Sukuna's eyes, that man was hideous to even be looked upon by a beauty like you. He just can't understand what's so great about blue eyes and white hair, when that guy only looks like a grandfather with six wives.
“He's hideous.” He commented, talking to you. “He's no good. I bet he still pisses his pants when he sleeps.”
“You're being mean, Sukuna.”
“Why do you like him so much, brat?”
“I never said I liked him.”
“You look like you do.”
He almost rolled his eyes when Gojo Satoru blew a kiss in your direction, making you flustered in your seat.
“Fucking hell.”
Each passing second and all Sukuna wanted to do was strangle the basketball player by the neck. His face was turning red, and his jealousy would be evident to everyone's eyes. He wanted to thank the gods again when he finally heard the bell rang, and you went back to your classes.
Sukuna groaned as your hands pressed against his chest, pampering kisses to his lips and neck while his hands were all over your body, tracing your curves with desire. His breath hitches, your eyes looking at him with lust and adoration. Sukuna held your flustered cheeks, your eyes glistening with emotions that he couldn't fathom. His thumb rubbed circles on your lower lip, pulling you against his lap, his lip an inch closer to yours.
Sukuna’s eyes almost rolled back when his name slipped from your mouth in a whimper, shooting jolts of vibration all over his warm body. He cursed before he found himself almost crashing his lips into yours.
Almost.
Sukuna woke up from his nap, his forehead and neck glistening with sweat. He looked down at his pants and cursed under his breath. He was in an empty classroom, the sun almost setting and the school was empty. He didn't realise how he had fallen asleep. And he can't believe he was dreaming about you.
He let out an exasperated sigh, heading to the parking lot to where his car was at. Only to stop at his tracks before he could even leave the building after he heard a sobbed coming from a room.
He looked to his left, his eyes furrowing at the sound. It might've been a ghost playing with his ears, but for some reason, his feet moved by itself.
The door of the room was swung open, seeing no one but a shadow of a girl. He heard her sobbed again, and this time, the sound was all too familiar. He peeked inside, a familiar back of a girl was sitting by the floor with glass shattered right in front of her. It only took him a few seconds to realise that it was you.
“Y/N?” He hurried right next to you, kneeling down as he pulls you away from the shattered mess. He found your wounded knee, bleeding with a piece of glass sinking on your skin. He almost winced at the sight.
Sukuna scooped you up in his arms, setting you down on a table as he stood between your legs. Your tears were streaming down on his face, and he doesn't know how he's supposed to stop you from crying as the pain was etched on your face.
“I'll try to remove it. Just shut up.” He didn't even ask how it happened, only worrying about how he's going to remove the piece of glass on her knee.
He took one deep breath, his fingers holding onto the glass as he tried to pull it back. But stopped when he heard you cry.
“It hurts. It hurts…” You breathed heavily, your nails digging into his shoulders.
Sukuna looked at you, his jaw clenching as blood leaked out. “I know, baby. I know.”
He wraps an arm around your waist and patted your back slowly in an attempt to calm you down, while his other hand caressed the back of your wounded knee. Sukuna looks around the room, thinking of ways on how to distract you from the pain, but finds no solution to it.
Only a stupid idea flashed in his mind. A stupid, yet might be a little helpful. But stupid, nonetheless.
For once, Sukuna felt nervous, looking down at her crying state and wounded knee. It was one way or another.
“You'll be fine. Why are you so weak?” He groaned, hiding his worry. “I'll pull it off fast. Is that okay?”
You looked worried, but nodded. “Please, just put it away.”
“It'll be really painful…” He sighs, reaching for your chin as he makes you look at him. He coughs awkwardly, “Think of happy thoughts, perhaps? In a count of three.”
“One.”
“Two…”
Before you knew it, Sukuna crashed his lips into yours, the same time as he pulled off the sharp glass on your knee. You gasped into his lips from both the shock and the pain. You felt the pain tingling from your wound, but with his lips against yours, it became hard to concentrate.
It wasn't even at the count of three.
***
LOLLLL i think im back? ill try to add a taglist next time, you guys are too many, so comment down if you want to be added 😭 ANWAYSS, I LOVE YOU ALL, THANK YOU FOR WAITING, and please don't hate me for the short update. I'M TRYING.
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dante-mightdie · 9 hours
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The way i'm straight up dying over the second-wife Price au so far Like I don't think you understand how nice it is to see such a fun take on such an already-lovely idea, but GOD I would love to see Price seeing reader after a good few months of trying to convince himself that he was right in leaving her there. Maybe he always felt that guilt, that twisting in his guts that made him feel like a bastard when he thought about you, maybe he never quite got over the look on your face when the ropes were tied, the fear in your eyes. You weren't supposed to be scared when you looked at him, but you were. He's long since accepted that you're dead. It would just be silly to think otherwise, but he's still got the other wife, right? The other wife, who he slowly realizes isn't nearly as gentle as you were, who didn't stop a moment to smile at passing children or nod at him when he came back from a successful battle. maybe he's terrible for wanting to go back, but then he sees you in the woods, holding a baby in your arms and cooing at the little thing while you wash it. It could be his. That's the first thing he thinks, and then he sees Simon. Simon who should be dead, Simon who defected mid-battle mere days before he met you, Simon the *traitor*who comes up behind you and knocks his forehead against yours so gently and takes the baby into his arms as you smile at him. And maybe Price feels a sort of longing in that moment, a sort of pain he's never felt before, because you look... happy. You look happy in a way Price has never seen on you before. Genuine and comfortable, that soft smile on your face spreading as you chuckle and hug Simon. Or maybe not. Maybe Price turns and leaves, maybe he never quite sees that it's you or maybe he just cant mentally reckon with you being alive without him like this, happier without him after he hurt you unforgivably. Maybe Price doesn't even know if it would be worth giving up his half-assed, but functional marriage with your replacement-that thought still makes him shudder-to try and talk to you again, because you look like you wouldn't even entertain him, and he **knows** that Simon won't I dunno, just some thoughts for you, I hope you like :)) (You have absolutely no obligation to respond if you don't wanna, just want you to know that this au and your writing in general has honestly been something nice to come home to and it's really helped me through some rough days)
simon bumping his forehead against you like a stray cat is awakening something in me
c/w: stalkerish-vibes from chief!price, nsfw, masturbation, sex, mentions of war, torture, children
he had to return a couple more times just to be certain. dedicating a few hours a week to come back to that lake in hopes of seeing if you were actually alive or if his mind was playing tricks on him. he caught a few more glimpses of you. some by yourself, a few with your baby and a couple with your ‘husband’
he’d watched you bath by yourself in the late evening, slipping off your clothes and unknowingly giving him a view of your most intimate parts. not like he hadn’t seen them before. sometimes when he felt extra guilty and pathetic, he’d stroke his cock as he watches you bathe in the lake
he’d also caught you and your child down there once or twice, a genuine happy smile on your face as you help them dip their feet in the shallow tide. he knew the whispers of the clan was getting to you, rumours that you couldn’t conceive but he never had his doubts. he just never had the time to dedicate to you due to his many responsibilities as the clan chief
that’s a weak excuse, still. he had energy to dedicate to his second wife, for a while at least. he soon tired of her and her attitude towards her wifely duties. and he didn’t just mean her bedroom duties, although that was becoming an issue too. he also meant her responsibilities to the clan. she had a responsibility to offer them support and she was failing to integrate herself with them
you didn’t seem to have any issues with your marriage. you seem perfectly happy with your husband. price wonders if you really know who he is. it’s hard to imagine the ex-wife he knew as shy and timid seems this content with the infamous warrior ‘ghost’
price wonders if simon has told you about his time as a prisoner of war under an enemy clan when he was a fresh adult. perhaps he’d told you about how he got all those scars, how he’d endured years of torture before he finally escaped. except, he didn’t stay away once he returned home. no, he went back in the middle of the night. and slayed every enemy in that camp with his own two hands. a blood-thirsty fury in his veins as he takes his revenge
the sweetness only lasted a few minutes before the taste turns bitter. especially when he finds that he’s been shunned from his clan. his actions deemed inhumane, evil, unnecessary. simon didn’t agree, not one bit. he had dedicated his life to the clan and this is how they treat him after he nearly died for them
price had never met him. he was a known name around these ends. probably not to you. you don’t seem too afraid of him when he tugs your clothes off, bumping his nose against yours and pushing you up against a tree. hoists you up and wastes no time in lining his cock up with your pussy. nudges his tip inside your hole before thrusting the rest of his cock in
john watches as you whine and moan and beg for more in a way he never got to see before. perhaps if he had actually dedicated any time towards your pleasure, he would’ve gotten to witness this too. he fucks his fist from his hiding place, imagining that you were falling apart on his cock instead
he wishes he could use some of that famous courage he’s known for to actually come up and speak to you. apologise for abandoning you, not being a proper husband and protecting you from all the people trying to tear you down. yet his feet can’t seem to pass further from the spot he watches you from
he figures he should leave you be, you deserve your peace and your happiness. you seem to have found it. he wonders if you’ve found forgiveness for him in that time too. maybe you’d throw that sweet smile in his direction, welcome him with open arms and tell him that it’s okay
but he knows that unlikely. he’s sure that wolf of yours would show up, sniffing out a potential threat near his mate. bare his teeth and growl at price for even selling close to you. much more likely that he’ll rip john apart with his canines and claws, leave his mangled body in the dirt. he’s not so sure that you’d tell him to heel either, how can he expect you to save him when he left you for dead?
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i-cant-sing · 2 days
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Mmmhhh thinking about Yandere Batfam reacting to a reader who runs a very popular blog where she absolutely bashes Batman and Robins- and the batfam takes your criticism very seriously. Maybe not at first, but then Damian (the easiest to tick) got pissed off when you wrote how "he's just a kid in a cheap Halloween costume" and when Damian gets pissed off, he whines. He whines and whines and whines until Dick and Bruce finally listen to him and do something about it. That's when they find out about the extensive threads about them, criticising meticulously each and every action of theirs, how they're causing more financial harm to Gotham and allowing themselves to be idolised and causing more people to comit crimes just so that they could have their 5 seconds of fame with Batman. And ofc theirs a whole page about the Batsignal.
I mean, Damian and Tim have already found out who runs the page (though they had a little bit of a hard time sniffing u out. You were good at covering your tracks). While Damian and Tim are busy going to "have a talk with you", Bruce is at home reading your entire blog about Batfam and realising how some of your points.... kinda makes sense. So, he buys the app where you write your blogs, then has Damian bring you over to the Wayne offices, where he explains he just wanted to meet the person running the blog that generates the most readers on the app. You, just a 23 year old student who's blogging as a side hustle.
You're obviously stunned because why are you meeting Bruce Wayne and also confused because again, why are you here exactly??? Bruce just says that he likes your insights and would like to know more, and he's happy to pay you by the hour you spend talking to him and also on the blog.
He's very much determined to make Batman and Robins be good in your mind, and not that he cares much about what people think about him, it doesn't hurt to have good PR for heroes, lest people should try revolting against Justice league and only end up hurting themselves. There's only so much he could do to calm his metahuman friends.
You're again- CONFUSED, but you like money. The only thing you tell him is that you get to write whatever you want, complete creative control and that you can write about anyone you wish. Ofc, it doesn't register to Bruce that you could possibly write against his family- against his name.
So in the beginning, things are going great. Reader continues making calculated judgements and comments about Batfam and how they could possibly improve themselves, the batfam takes note and tries to do most of the things. Then you'd write something that could almost be seen as praise for "changing their old ways" and they all feel a little bit proud. They don't realise it but some members of the batfam (like damian and Dick) start craving your approval of their actions.
Perhaps something happens, maybe you don't find it fun to write about the bats anymore, so you shift your mind towards a new topic-
The Wayne's.
You research a bit, finding it a little odd at Bruve Wayne's generosity to be adopting random ass kids, a super duper clean record, no scandals or anything- it just- it doesn't feel right. No one's that clean. They have to be hiding something.
So when u can't find anything against them, you let your imagination go wild and start making conspiracy theories, kinda feel like reader goes in her gossip girl era to stir things up so that someone would come forward with something- anything.
Bruce's eyes almost bulge out as he reads the blog's headline-
"The secrets of Gotham's favourite billionaire playboy!"
Shit- did you figure out he's batman?
Nope. In fact, you covered everything but that. From theories about him adopting troubled kids for PR, to the Wayne family actually being a chauvinist cult, to conspiracies about his ties with the Rothschild, his philanthropic donations being a front for illegal activity, the Wayne Manor holding lavish nsfw parties, and even a classic "they drink virgin maiden blood!"
Bruce stood in your apartment, eyes narrowing at your sleeping form on the couch.
"Bruce? What- how did you get in?" You don't remember unlocking your door.
"What is the meaning of this?" He pulled up your article on his phone.
"Huh?" You took a closer look, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. "Oh. Yeah, I wrote that."
"Why?"
You shrugged. "I was bored."
"What?" Bruce could feel himself getting angry. How could you be so nonchalant about the lies you wrote?
"You know this isn't true." "I do." "Then why did you write it?" "I told you, I was bored. Besides, you told me I could write about anyone." You get up with a sigh. "I don't get why you're so worried about this. Barely anyone reads this stuff."
Bruce's brows went up. "There's a 1000 plus views on this already!"
"What?" your eyes twinkled. "A thousand already? Its not even been 24 hours since I posted. Wow, people really do enjoy conspiracy-" you shut up when you saw his glare. "Right, sorry."
"Take it down, now." Bruce orders, brow twitching when you just walk past him and into the kitchen, pouring yourself some coffee. "Why?" you asks after taking a sip.
He glares at you. "Because it isnt true-"
"Then give me something that is."
Bruce stared at you. Is this... is this your way of wanting an interview?
You sighed. "Look, just let me interview you family, I promise to only write the truth and only the truth. No conspiracies, I swear."
"Or I could just fire you. Better yet, have you sued for defamation."
You nodded. "You could, but honestly that would only bring more attention to the articles and more conspiracies would arise. Besides, you and I both know you cant stop me from writing even if I'm in jail."
Bruce watched you walk upto him, holding your phone in your hand. "Come on, just one week- one week at your place, I'll even let you read the article before I post it. If you dont like it, I'll delete it."
I mean... it did sound like a pretty good bargain. Besides, at his home, youd be in a more supervised space.
So here you are, standing in the lobby of the Wayne manor as a posh butler leads you to Bruce's office. Of course Alfred will be a part of your articles. He's too fancy to not be.
And so over the course of a week, you dont really find anything particularly intriguing about the family, even after you interviewed each member. You're mentally groaning at the thought of writing yet another boring article... that is until you accidentally discover the batcave (ok not accidentally, u hid a recorder in Bruce's office and u heard the man discussing about it with Dick)
Anyways, it didnt take long for you to discover the cave, and it took you even less for you to write a scandalous article.
"RICH MAN COSPLAYS AND PRACTICES HIS JUJUTSU SKILLS ON THE MENTALLY ILL! SEE PICTURES OF WHERE HE ROLEPLAYS IN MASKS!"
Unfortunately, before you hit "post", your phone is snatched and you're knocked out.
When you come to, Bruce is sitting in front of you looking beyond pissed while you're tied up in your seat.
"We had a deal, Y/n." Bruce gritted out.
"So? Deal was off the moment I found out you were Batman." You shrugged.
"We had a deal-"
"You really expect me to just pretend like I'm blind after I found out who you really are? Do you think anyone would just give up on a scoop this big?" You tilt your head at him.
Bruce narrowed his eyes at you. "Scoop? Thats what this is to you?"
You nodded. "Sure, you're a hero who fights crime and brings "peace" to Gotham, but who knows for sure? After all, thats how you want the world to see you." You lean as far as your restraints allow you. "I dont trust you, Bruce. Not one bit. There's just- this gut feeling about you. Nothing personal, but I dont get good vibes from you."
"Is that so?" Bruce raised his brow before sighing. "I guess there's no reason to let you go then."
"What?"
He nodded to himself. "Yes, if I let you go now, you'll only cause more trouble for me, but also for yourself. If you post content like that, people will target you- yes, I definitely cant let you go. You're an impulsive idiot who'd endanger herself just to not be bored."
Your eyes widen. "You cant kill me."
Bruce scoffed. "Dont be ridiculous, I can, but I wont. I just want to take care of you, protect you from yourself." He stood up. "I did a little bit of research on you too, yknow? You keep your personal life super private, I have to give credit to you, it wasnt easy to find out about your family. But... money makes the mare go."
Your throat dried as you saw a glint in his eyes. He knew... he couldnt-
Bruce's footsteps echoed as he neared you and ruffled your hair. "Poor you... having to deal with a schizoprenic mom." He leaned down to smile gently at you, but you could sense the sinister intent.
"Dont worry, she'll be taken care of at Gotham Asylum while you stay with us."
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girl idk where i was going with this, i just needed to get it out of my drafts (i have another long incomplete draft about platonic yandere dick x gymnast reader where he basically is intrigued by this mini tonya harding who lives for her dead beat father's approval who doesnt give a shit about her unless she comes first. so its upto dick to adopt u and make u a part of batfam)
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thenerdywriter · 16 hours
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"it was awkward to see colin flirt and behave like a rake" "he gave me the ick" yes ! that is the fucking point!! congratulations! you have the media literacy skills of a fucking monkey because my 4-year old niece could understand it better than you do.
we are supposed to find colin cringey and annoying and get the ick because that is not who he is. he is not anthony, or simon, or even benedict. colin (apart from gregory) is the sweetest of all bridgerton brothers (i'm going by book canon) and his most identifiable character trait is the fact that he values an emotional connection above everything. he runs away to the continent because he wants to feel that emotional connection. he has meaningless sex in brothels because that is the example he has seen growing up, that is the norm. he tries so hard to fit into the norm. he goes out drinking, adopts an entirely new personality, learns flirtations because that is how he thinks he will fit in. he's got armour on, as violet said. he puts everyone's needs above his own, he stops rambling on and boring his family with details of his trip because he knows no one cares. he doesn't talk to anthony or benedict about his heartaches because he knows they still, somewhere in their heart of hearts, view him as the annoying younger brother. he's so devastated by his closest friend not responding to him that he adopts a new personality in the hopes that it might mask the hurt better. he runs after penelope in episode one because he is so attuned to her emotions that he knows she's hurting, and tries to comfort her even when she's spiraling and lashes out. he must have been hurt by her words in the "good night mr bridgerton" scene but he puts it aside to genuinely apologise to her when literally no one else in that family would do that. colin, instead of brooding over his own feelings, goes and corners penelope in her family's garden and apologises to her, disregarding his own hurt at being cruelly dismissed by his close friend.
penelope asking colin to kiss her is not a mark of how "pathetic" she is. she has written and shamed herself in a manner that is almost entirely unsalvageable. she is at her lowest point, and then portia comes in and reminds her of how undesirable she is, and she sinks even lower. she asks colin to kiss her because she sees it as a final act, after which she can quietly wave goodbye to her dreams of ever getting married and leaving her mother's home. colin kisses her because he is also keenly aware of how she's feeling. he knows how hurt she is, he wants to do anything to alleviate that. be it cracking a joke, or kissing her. he is gentle, because he wants it to be something she can dream of when she's by herself. penelope, at this moment, has no hope for herself, and their kiss is an act of letting go for her. no, it's not a pity kiss, no he did not like her after her glow up, he has always loved her. him being struck dumb is a reaction to her physical transformation, nothing more. he does not flirt with her in that ballroom scene, he only approaches her when she's in distress. he's not flirting with her. i can assure you penelope could wear the frumpiest most neon yellow gown of all time and colin would still go "<333 my pen" for her.
colin jumps to catch the balloon's ropes because he sees that penelope is in danger, he does not give a shit about anyone else lmao. he feels temporary relief when he sees eloise run to safety, but the moment he sees penelope in immediate danger, he rushes to take action. afterwards, when he sees that she's being comforted by debling (all my homies hate debling, even if he is aro/ace coded i do NOT claim him) he does not approach her. it would be easy for him to do so, but he does not, because he respects her boundaries. colin bridgerton is the only man in the ton who respects women (the featherington sons-in-laws are too pretty to have a thought) he calls out fife and his friends for treating women like objects and calls them cavalier. the only way he would have been more explicit about his demisexuality was if he tap danced on the club table (entertaining thought, luke newton please)
colin also rapidly takes action, something which no one in the show has done so far. simon would have died instead of accepting his feelings for daphne, daphne would have been content with a loveless marriage forever instead of asking for help. kate would have pushed edwina down the aisle and gone off to india instead of confronting her own feelings, and anthony would have married edwina if she hadn't been brave enough for the three of them to run from the altar and ruin herself. penelope stood on the sidelines for years and loved him quietly because she had no hope of him loving her back. colin, the moment he is assured of his feelings, runs to penelope, almost kisses her in the middle of a ballroom. when he hears that debling is about to propose, he goes to the ball, just to dissuade penelope one more time. he cuts into their dance because he's desperate. when he runs after her carriage, he asks her if she has been proposed to, because he would not have touched her otherwise. he confesses his feelings to her only when he knows that she hasn't gotten engaged to debling, and when she says "but we are friends" he moves away. nothing more. he would have let her go, if she did not return his feelings.
idk whether i should be flattered or offended at people misunderstanding this season because on one hand it is offensive, but on the other hand, it means only smart people get polin. seriously. your minds have been rotted by insta-love and enemies to lovers that you can't even appreciate the innate beauty of friends to lovers. being friends with someone and then holding all those feelings for them. the trepidation of possible rejction. the fulfillment of being loved by the person who knows you the best of them all. the privilege of loving someone whose feelings you know better than your own. love is gentle and kind and yes it is a violent, uprooting force but above all, love does not hurt anyone. it does not hurt you. i could love someone quietly for years and it wouldn't bother me if their feelings were requited or not because my feelings are none of their business and i consider it a privilege to love and be loved by them, even if it is not in the way i would want it to be. polin are privileged in the highest sense. they know each other better than anyone else, they know how to love each other better than anyone else. to think they are rushed or they dont deserve each other is a disservice to both of them. they would be miserable with anyone else.
in other matters, if i see one more person talking smack about luke or nicola behind the safety of their screens i will personally get a bazooka.
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rheakira · 2 days
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I've come to temporarily break my hiatus to bring up something deeply important. Because after a recent event, if I have to go another day without talking about it, I don't know what I'll do.
Fandoms have an enormous issue when it comes to bigotry and people feeling comfortable enough to be openly bigoted.
And I want to make it clear: everyone is capable of it. In fact, most people do it more often than they don't. But because this strange myth has been built up that if you aren't "blatantly saying slurs" or "killing others" it can't possibly be bigotry, we have done nothing but become dangerous behind closed doors.
If your friend has odd beef with a person of color in the fandom and holds them to standards they don't hold their white friends to, that is bigotry. If your friend feels some sort of way about the trans person in your friend group and tries to come up with reasons for why they specifically can't stay, that is also bigotry. If your group insists that a person with a personality disorder is making it up just for attention and uses that as a reason for why they can't be around them, that is bigotry as well.
I've never been upfront about it because... why do I, as a human being, need to be upfront about my identity when people randomly decide what I am? But I am in fact a person of color who is queer and disabled. Whenever I join a fandom group that is mostly white people, I am liked until this is discovered. And then I watch as people get brutal about things I do or say. Things that they don't do to other people in the group, and I also watch as they take my words and either twist them for convenience or ruin my reputation for it.
As a marginalized person, both in fandom and out, you are held to a unique standard that does not apply to other human beings around you. It makes doing what you love very difficult, because unfortunately as a marginalized person, people will always subconsciously side with the person trying to oppress or attack you. This has happened to me my entire life, from school to work spaces to even internet spaces claiming to be safe places.
People will say that they care about you and like you and even form a friendly bond with you, but the moment a person of privilege decides they do not like you very much, they can and will side with the other person even without proof of their issues with you. It's exhausting and ruins lives in places that should be fun and safe.
I am on my umpteenth experience with this exact cycle and I would be lying if I said it didn't make me feel like I couldn't live or breath in places I should be allowed to be involved in. It's a very real problem that refuses to end because no one has the courage to challenge it. I am speaking not only on my own experiences, but for the many other people of color or queers or disabled people who simply cannot join these so called "safe spaces" because of our identities conflicting with people who have been taught that we are lesser and not worth love or care.
If this is a problem you face, please know that I see you and I love you. It's hard to keep surviving in a world that wants to hurt you and leaves you abandoned and alone. I want you to know that the world is scary, but we all exist. You should be allowed to experience joy and fun without feeling like you're being suffocated and wanting to die.
You matter. The people around you that make you feel like you don't are nothing by comparison. You matter and I truly hope that we'll one day find each other and become the safe space that we deserve.
The marginalized people in your fandom are more important than your fictional characters and plotlines that you put above us. We're here and we're not leaving. Learn to live with us and protect us.
If we're truly your friends, you would care when your privileged "friends" want to remove us.
Additionally, please do not take this rant and make it only about white people who are part of these marginalized categories. This is a post about EVERYONE. Including the people of color around you. Do not remove us from this conversation. Care about ALL OF US if you support this at all. Thank you.
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dekusleftsock · 2 days
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I think about this sometimes but I personally love that Horikoshi took the Yandere trope, split it in two, and gave one half to Izuku and Himiko.
Like it’s so fascinating how you can just SEE how purposeful Himiko was as a character in hindsight standing next to him.
Himiko is a really interesting subversion of her trope for two reasons:
She hurts people because she loves them, not for isolation or destruction of the competition (gore/blood is love to her, not necessarily a means to love someone)
She’s not possessive. Like at all.
I’ve seen that hc a few times and it always bothers me. Ochako is for sure a possessive character (we saw that with Hatsume around Izuku way back at the sports festival arc), but Himiko? Really?
You mean the girl who had a crush on a boy AND the girl who also had a crush on the same boy? Her?
You mean the girl who doesn’t hurt people who love who she loves, rather actively encouraging it in the first place? That one? Really?
Like it’s such an integral part to her subversion too. It’s what makes her such a weird and fascinating character. Possessiveness is supposed to be whats ugly about love itself, yet her love remains ugly without it. She is ugly because the fundamental ways in which she sees and feels about the world are considered “wrong”, “dangerous”, and “deviant”.
But Izuku… ohhhh Izuku…
He holds this trait like a badge melted to his skin. My man cannot escape these allegations. It’s to the point where it’s honestly a fundamental to his narrative. Izuku does not act nor feel the same without it.
Izuku holds a cutesy nickname that literally every other childhood friend of Katsuki’s has long left behind, saying his real name instead (this is honestly why I’m also uninterested in a scene where Izuku calls him “Katsuki” instead of “Kacchan”, Katsuki doesn’t represent the same things the name Izuku does, imo at least), izuku “give him back to me” midoriya, holds his dead body to his chest on a cover, freaked out on someone either hurting/offending Kacchan.. 3 times(?), keeping big boy ofa secrets…. The list goes on.
So it’s this main reason that I think their characters are just so. Fucking. Intertwined. I’m glad this has become a more common interpretation because there’s just so much that aligns between them.
Both of them call their “special people” with -chan endings, both by their first names, both deemed deviants/irrelevant by society. It’s no wonder Ochako fell in love with Izuku, just like she did toga, they’re fucking freaks. They’re interesting. They’re weird. They’re overly friendly and socially inept and a little beaten down by the world yet have too much passion to stay on the ground. They’re envious of the ones they love (Ochako of her freedom to be a normal girl, Katsuki for his raw power and harnessed skill), and I guess I just wanted to make this post because I adore how it’s all done.
I LOVE how the yandere trope is used as societal commentary here. Not necessarily as a way to make the main love interest jealous and feel she must protect the main character, nor for some kinky reason surrounding her character, but because the trope is built off of real, ugly feelings that can and do happen. That love can and is considered truly beautiful in all its forms, especially those of queer people.
So I especially love it because it isn’t just limited to Himiko, but Izuku as well. He may never hurt the ones he loves, but he would hurt for them.
A perfect narrative foil on queer and deviant forms of love. Big fan Horikoshi.
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r1z3n · 3 days
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You know I talked about Unhinged Tim & Dick
but I want to talk about Jason and Dick.
Cause yeah Jason didn't necessarily learn from Dick like Tim did but that is because Dick was never expected to be an authority to Jason. (Not just narratively but in canon if we pay attention to it. Dick was never expected to take care of Jason the same way he was for every sibling afterwards)
That means they probably play by different rules. They are probably close in that way that everyone would be like 'they hate each other'.
Dick and Jason probably don't even realize it. To them it is just how it is.
Like yeah of course they will tear each other apart verbally, then flip around ready to eviscerate anyone else that tried, and all would be forgiven with a shitty cold convenience store coffee with the correct amount of sugar and cream.
Oh yeah, Jason knows about every person Dick every killed or got close to killing, as cop/mercenary/spy/vigilante, except you know Joker, because it never came up. Dick brought the others up during a fight when Jason tried to be "oh boo hoo, you wouldn't know".
Dick, what do you mean YOU KNEW ABOUT THE GLOWING SWORDS? Dick sipping Starbucks raised eyebrow of Judgement 'you didn't?' To be fair he only found out because they were watching a supernatural episode (because 100% Jason had a phase as a preteen and now wants to get the new spn memes context even if he is gonna hate it), and well it couldn't hurt to double check. They were Fine and the swords were cool. Now they have semi every other weekend plans for the next few years, and Constantine gets nervous around them.
Jason and Dick just know all secrets of each other, but ask them what the other's favorite color is or some like surface level thing, and you gonna get 'why the fuck would I know that?.
They also probably don't realize how unhinged the other is, in a way that makes them even more unhinged together because 'well if they are like this then i need to match it' until you know suddenly you have villains and goons begging for any other pair after them. Red Hood, they can deal with. Nightwing, they can deal with. Red Hood and Nightwing, and suddenly harden criminals are screaming for Batman to save them. Much to the two's bafflement.
Even more baffling an old boy goon looking at Nightwing, going 'he brings out the first robin in you boy." like one says "he brings out the demon in you."
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blarshwritezz · 3 days
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I dont know if you write for the Omegaverse..
Because how about a Bully (Alpha) x Nerd Male Reader (Omega) like the two of them dont get the Second Gender until now.. So basically the Bully realise that the Reader is his Fated Mate and dosent want anybody near him, only HIS.. But is really dificult for the Reader to not only Trust him but is also really scared of him..
So Reader first heat is a mess (Like the Bully is constally pound him with meaty d*ck) and the Bully is constally tell him sweet and suductive things to try to calm him down, even tho the Reader is crying because he still scared..
Finally ending with the Reader even more sacred knowing that the Alpha has mated him and posibly '´mark´´ him?
Well, I never have before, but I'll try! Apologies in advance for any mistakes
Yandere Bully Alpha x Nerd Omega Reader
M yan x M reader
TW - Possessiveness, jealousy, implied bullying, NSFW, dubcon
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Somehow, since your bully realized you were his fated mate, life only got more difficult. At least you could have friends before! Now he occupied all your attention. If someone made eye contact with you for too long, he considered them a threat.
Honestly, you almost preferred how he acted in the past. Back when he would mock every little thing you did and make your life as hard as he could on purpose. Back when he made you do his homework and beat you up if you refused.
Now, he had you tutor him. It wouldn't be so bad if he didn't make you sit on his lap, or if he actually paid attention. He just sat there watching you work and listening to you teach him. He would hurt his face in your neck and breath in your scent, letting his voice fill your ears.
No wonder he always got so jealous when you used to have friends. It was your fault he felt that way, or so he thought. But once he realized you were meant to be his, he realized it was everyone else's fault! They shouldn't be near what's his.
He completely monopolized your time. Whenever you weren't at home, he was making you hang out with him. He'd try to spoil you with things to make up for how he treated you in the past, but that didn't fix it.
He hurt you. He made your life miserable, and he knew he was doing it the whole time. The damage he caused couldn't be fixed by some nice words or gifts.
He just didn't get it. No matter how hard he tried, you always recoiled from his touch. You always got tense when he held you. You never seemed to believe him when he showered you with praises. You didn't like his gifts. What was he doing wrong?
Maybe you liked it better when he was bullying you? So he tried it. He tried being mean to you again. But that only seemed to make it worse! He didn't get it. Why wouldn't you love him?! You were supposed to! He was your fated mate, so you had to love him!
He could only think of one more way to earn your love.
You didn't show up to school one day, which worried him. So of course, like a good mate, he skipped school after the first hour and promptly made his way to your house. He knew where you hid the so are key, so he just let himself in.
And there was a glorious sight awaiting him once he reached your room. There you were, face buried in your pillow, ass up as you stroked your aching cock. Your scent was absolutely overwhelming, and the sight immediately made him hard. You were already in the perfect position for him.
He quietly walked around you, adjusting his pants to let his meaty cock spring free. He'd help you...prove you needed him. Like a good mate.
"You need help there, my mate?" He carefully got behind you, using one hand to spread your ass and the other to line himself up with your needy hole.
You gasped at his raspy voice against your ear. There he was. The last man you wanted to see right now. He'd surely take advantage of your pathetic state.
But at the same time, just one look at his massive cock distracted you, your mind clouded by thought of being fucked.
He didn't let you answer before slowly pushing into you. He had to take it slow, filling you up inch by inch. He didn't want to hurt you. Not yet.
"Shhhh, that's it, you're doing so good." He cooed in your ear as you whined.
Once he thought you were ready, he slowly thrust into you...but it wasn't long before he lost control. How could he not? You felt so good all warm and tight around his thick cock. He was entirely unable to resist the incredible feeling.
He was relentless, stretching you to fit his huge cock without much care for your comfort. Even when tears began to stream down your face, he didn't slow down. He just kissed them away as he continued his harsh thrusts.
You were just crying because you weren't used to feeling this good. Right? That had to be it.
"It'll be okay, you're taking me so well." He hushed you, his breath hot against your skin as he trailed kisses across your jaw.
Your choked moans only enticed him further. He could already feel himself needing to cum. He's never felt such amazing pleasure before. No wonder you were his.
His kisses trailed lower and lower, down your neck, turning harsher. Turning to sucking and gentle nibbling, until he was biting you. He had to mark you of course, and in the most obvious places he could too. You were his. Everyone had to know.
He made sure you were the first to cum, which wasn't hard. Your heat had made you more sensitive. He was enjoying every bit of that. And you deserved to be the one feeling all the pleasure right now.
As you own cum covered your stomach, chest, and the sheets beneath you he couldn't help but praise you more. "What a good boy...I knew you enjoyed this as much as I did. Don't worry, you have your whole heat cycle to get used to me."
He wasn't going to let you feel needy for even a second. He was going to fuck you hard day and night, filling you with his cum, until your heat was over. He was just such a good mate like that.
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Again, apologies for any mistakes!
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ybklix · 2 days
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𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐝𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐧
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╰┈➤ part 2 / part one here
★ lee minho
✦summary: After that unexpected and magnetic encounter, Minho can't get you out of his head and he’s slowly going insane wondering if you’ve been with other men.
✭ content - tags - warnings: smut / ceo lee know x fem reader / dom!possesive minho / slight bondage / use of sex toys / public fingering / unprotected sex, creampie / sugar daddy
word count: 11.5k
(masterlist)
a/n: ty for reading! my next one shot is ab chan🙂‍↕️
That day for you was more unusual than the previous one, you sat up confused and somewhat hurt when you heard his tone. You rubbed your face trying to wake up completely then you saw clothes spread out on the end of the big bed. Confused, at least you thought he had the dignity to let you go with other clothes and not in an embarrassing way with the previous night's clothes full of sex.
Carefully you removed the big, high-padded sheet from you and, still naked you walked around to get a better look at the garments, Jacquemus black mini skirt, a nice simple blouse with crystal detailing around the neck by Miu Miu, classic Prada loafers and new white underwear. You thought the choice of outfit was somewhat questionable but you still recognized high fashion brands, you were about to put on your clothes until you got a little surprised when you heard the bedroom door open, it was Minho who didn't flinch at seeing you standing naked and, with half of his body peeking out suggested to you in a soft tone:
“You can take a shower if you want.” he gave you a very small smile and walked out.
You weren't sure how to feel and wanted to get out of there quickly, so you cautiously looked around for the door leading to the bathroom, which you had used the night before. You looked at yourself for a few seconds in the mirror realizing that you hadn't checked the time on your phone and embarrassment consumed you as you thought it was late. You also realized you were still wearing those cute earrings so you took them off with the silly little idea of not being able to get them wet, leaving them on the sink counter.
The warm water felt so good on your body and you tried not to focus on anything else. You just had an exquisite night of sex that made you even shiver and weaken, you had never felt anything so extremely strong, nor had you ever cum with such intensity before, no doubt Lee Minho knew how to take care of you and at least you would come out of there with nothing but a pleasant and strange experience… and wearing Prada shoes.
You did your best to be quick and doable, grooming yourself with ease and finally grabbing your phone to get out of there, it was only a few minutes past 10 a.m. You tried to remember the way you were dragged from the entrance to Minho's room, ending up in a point of the house where you didn't remember being a few hours ago, just late at night you were only deeply focused on the lips of the owner of the house, frustrated you released air from your cheeks until you heard a slight noise and practically ran towards it, arriving, in the incredible maze that mansion seemed, to the kitchen where attractively by the counter was Minho sitting, drinking from his cup of coffee and concentrating reading news on his phone.
You caught Minho's attention instantly as he sensed your presence and looked you up and down, approving of how well you looked in everything he ordered to be bought for you. What started with a sweet look at the sight of your still wet hair, ended with him enjoying the sight of your smooth bare legs, intensifying his gaze, making you feel a little intimidated. But of course he would make sure that everything is made to your measure; after having had a magnificent sex and resting your agitated bodies the necessary, once you came back from the bathroom, sorry and with your cheeks tinted in pink, Minho suggested in a strangely tender tone for him “sleep here, it's late, I'll go to the guest room”.
At that moment you wanted to melt, you hadn't heard such a peaceful tone in him during all your journey together and, impulsively you wanted to beg him to stay with you, but nothing came out of your mouth. He watched you sleep for a moment, breathing so calm and confident in his presence, which did in him, awaken a feeling that had left his body years ago. Minho finally slipped away and being alone, without thinking clearly about his actions since he was trapped by the emotion of the return of that strange feeling, he hurried to check Hyunjin's messages that he had ignored so much, in his chat section, where there were screenshots of all your information in that app, at first he was annoyed by the fact that you were in that kind of site, then he took care to study every detail of you. Weight, size, measurements, your birthday two days before his, your young age, your photos… At dawn he quickly ordered them to get you new clothes no matter that most of the stores were closed as it was Sunday, somehow or other they had to get them for you. All this until, seeing you wake up brought him back to reality and he discovered himself acting senselessly for a girl, or what he thought for an instant, a prostitute who slept with him for money; so he shielded himself with his coldness and temper, convincing himself that everything previously planned had been simply polite, and it wasn't because he suddenly cared about you.
You stood for meters away from him, not quite sure what your next move should be, to which he was quick to say:
“Come, eat your lunch.”
You looked at him puzzled, he really was bipolar, you thought, minutes ago he practically ran you off and now he was inviting you to eat.
“Mm, I guess I should-” you tried to wriggle out.
“Eat.” he said abruptly dropping his gentle voice.
That took you by surprise and you noticed the plate of food next to him, you walked over, rounding the counter and sitting uncomfortably next to him. Without saying anything you began to eat, wondering to yourself if you would be able to get out of there soon as he seemed to be holding you back. Still you enjoyed the tasty omelette of your lunch, you wanted to talk but didn't know what to talk about, you didn't really know him and doubted that he was interested in listening to you; however for him, it was more than obvious that he was interested, from the simple detail that he cared about you eating, however he didn't have the courage to accept it to begin with. Minho felt the tension, not sexual, just an incredible invisible pressure on your bodies, he felt nervous to have you around and every now and then he would watch you eating, out of the corner of his eye, tenderly as he pretended to be reading an article on his phone.
Once you finished you realized that he was the one who had run out of words so you jumped out of that high chair, making noise as you stepped on the floor. Minho stared at you.
“I have to go” you said this time, “thank you”.
Minho looked at you confused for a second, wondering to himself if that thank you was the food, the clothes, the fuck or the whole general. You understood, but you didn't want to explain further. Just thank you, and goodbye. Minho didn't want to say goodbye to you like that, he hesitated long enough if he should take you by the waist and kiss you passionately, and even make you his again before leaving his house, after all it wasn't in the initial plan to meet his house, Hyunjin had planned the fuck at his hotel; but all his thoughts were in vain since, you were on the other side of the counter, away from him. Minho wondered for a moment if in order to do everything he thought he had to pay you first, he would do it without hesitation, but he really didn't know the way you worked… or just the way you were. It bothered him so much that you were that kind of girl, just like it pissed him off that you made him hesitate in seconds when he always categorized himself as someone confident.
You picked up your purse that was on the corner of the table next to a medium sized box.
“The box too, it's your dress and shoes” he added trying to dream nonchalantly.
Minho stood up from his seat and led the way out, watching you sway your hips one last time, until you walked straight out towards the big black polarized windows van.
You noticed the driver gave you a naughty look as he deduced that it was a simple wild night as he was the one driving you home and not Lee Minho himself. Minho thought that dropping you home would be too much, although he was dying of curiosity to know where you live and what you did in your free time, he just refused to take him any further. The driver was surprised to ask you where you were going, as it was clearly somewhere less luxurious.
You admired that home one last time, feeling that somehow it would not be the last time you would see it; something in you wanted to believe it.
On the way home you finally had the realization that you had had a great night and that, in a way, you had behaved like a real whore by fucking Felix days ago and then suddenly doing it with another man.
When you got home the only thing out of place was you and your expensive clothes. As was the incredibly high amount in your bank account.
You didn't want to worry anymore thinking about how bad you felt about Felix, it wasn't like you were sure you would see Minho again, but now you questioned if you really saw yourself in a relationship with your friend. So you laid back on your bed and ignored his messages. You were ready to delete that app and deactivate your account which, a day before the encounter Hari set up on your phone and taught you how to use it until you received a message notification from that app, it was Hyunjin, asking without further ado if you had fucked Minho.
On the other hand, Minho tried to distract himself on a non-working Sunday, but he couldn't relax. When the driver arrived, he asked him for your exact address, causing Minho satisfaction to know your location, then he locked himself in his office to work and during the afternoon, after sunset he proposed to watch a movie, but he found it so boring to do it alone… after a long time, for the first time, he missed someone's company. He asked himself what your favorite movie would be.
As he went upstairs to sleep he saw the sheets still impregnated in the scent of the two of you in your night of passion, seeing your image once again in his mind; he let out slightly exasperated air for several reasons, one of them being that he had to make his bed by himself with clean sheets because the clean lady would be coming tomorrow. And another reason for his frustration was the fact that he couldn't think of you being touched and satisfied by another man. And, as she entered the bathroom, his last sign of hope, your diamond earrings over his sink. Minho picked it up and watched carefully, delusionally believing there were only three options as to why that jewelry was there: you genuinely forgot them, you thought he hadn't really given them to you, or you had left them there on purpose to create the perfect excuse to see each other again. Minho questioned whether he should make that happen, a second meeting.
[...]
You had avoided Felix all day during college until in the afternoon you received a text from him that sent chills down your spine, «why didn't you tell me you quit your job? did something happen?». You had to read it twice, surprised that he had to look you up at work. You felt terrible, you couldn't ignore it.
You replied that he doesn’t need worry, you were fine, he offered to let you stay in his apartment but you quickly declined, writing him that you are still fine in your apartment and that you are just studying a script that you would like to talk about later. You weren't good at avoiding Felix, you loved telling him the smallest detail of your life but… you felt that what you had done wasn't so small after all, much less something he would like to hear. However for your best girl friend it was the opposite, she wanted every detail of your night with Minho and your opinion about that very secret job. You couldn't say anything other than, it was fine. You were still processing it and didn't feel comfortable talking about it, but Hari understood.
That same Monday morning, now at Lee Minho's company, he found himself thinking about his love life, on his way to his office, he looked at his secretary and a couple of other women who worked for him… wondering to himself why not them, why not simple women with a normal job, one of them, who Minho knew they were dying for him… but no, he had chosen you as the woman who would not leave his deepest and craziest thoughts. It seemed absurd to him that only one night was enough for him —although he couldn't really classify himself as satisfied with you, he needed more—; but the only information he had about you were those data sent by Hyunjin and the exhaustive search of your social media, as well as your public profile of all your works and small jobs where you were attributed as an actress. Minho noticed the infinity of small projects you had been part of, you seemed to work non-stop. After a few moments he stared at the icon of that app on his screen, app just installed, he wanted to know if your profile was still active and if you were going to continue doing what you did with him, but with other men, that was making him uneasy, also thinking that before him there were a couple of others. He was really considering whether to make an account and see it with his own eyes since, Hyunjin could not give him more details, much less dare to ask him and, when Minho was determined to create an account, two light knocks on his door stopped him, showing in it just the man he was thinking about.
“Come in” he shouted.
His secretary opened the door, peeking out her body.
“It's Mr. Hwang Hyunjin that if you can…”
“Send him in” he interrupted her before she could finish.
Minho thought why not just his secretary, she was pretty, two years younger than him and worked for him since 5 years ago and since she knew the breakup between Minho and Soyul publicly, his worker was in charge of giving him small details on Minho's birthday and Christmas. But he couldn't think of anything else but your overwhelming and exquisite perfume that he smelled near your neck when his chest was touching your naked back while he was touching you and making you his without mercy.
Hyunjin smiled broadly at the sight of his friend sitting behind his desk; he didn't get to see him on Sunday as he was taking care of his next gallery in another city and settling a couple of things left over from the night before at his big gala on Saturday, plus he and Minho weren't the types of men to use their phones to communicate, they needed to see each other to speak to each other.
“How was it?” said Hyunjin amused.
Minho frowned and pretended not to know what he was talking about.
“What brings you here?” replied Minho disinterestedly.
Hyunjin ran his tongue around the inside of his mouth amused letting out a chuckle. And sat down in the chair at the front of his desk.
“You know, Minho…? I noticed something different about you, even your eyes look brighter. I told you what exactly you needed.”
Minho shifted in his seat, defensive to what his friend implied, so once again his impulses took over as a defense mechanism.
“My eyes brighter? For having sex with a hooker? It's not like I was eighteen and just lost my virginity looking for more sex.”
Hyunjin smiled wider.
“So you did fuck, tell me all about it, don't omit any part” Hyunjin exclaimed excitedly wanting to hear it from his older friend since, you had confirmed it to him since Sunday.
Minho thought of you and was infuriated by the fact that he had to refer to you with such a derogatory term. And that every time he talked about you, something horrible had to come out of his mouth. He had to end that once and for all. He thought of you too just now, the softness of your skin, your wet, sweet and tight cunt wrapping around his hard cock so well.
“It was fine” he replied curtly and cleared his throat trying to clear the sudden dirty thoughts of you.
“Just fine?” Hyunjin raised an eyebrow, hoping for more.
Minho let out a chuckle.
“The newly hormonal deflowered kid looks like someone else. I don't tell my sexual encounters anymore, I'm too old for that.”
“You stopped doing it unless you're in a relationship, are you even in a relationship with her now…?” Hyunjin couldn't wait for a response to the prompt wordness he blurted out and only expressed, “God, y/n looked beautiful that night, I bet she was excellent, I envy you.”
And suddenly something sparked a reaction in Minho, the heated and fun conversation turned serious for him.
“Do you know her name?”
Hyunjin was silent for a second.
“Yes, she told me.”
Minho said nothing. He knew your name too but he didn't think you would go around revealing your identity so easily in this kind of situation.
“Don't play hard to get, I wouldn't just call her a prostitute, but a high class escort, seriously it was a high price since she had apparently joined recently, there was a lot fighting over her. Plus she looked stunning in that Versace” said Hyunjin more relaxed.
But that only made Minho more tense, he wanted him to stop complimenting you, to know the exact amount, how recently you had joined that service… but he found it totally indecent to ask the man who only paid heartlessly. He wanted to talk to you, to hear your point of view.
“But hey, we can finally move on once you finally had sex. I have a normal girl for you available, remember Kim Minjeong from school?”
“Kim Min Jeong” stammered Minho without paying attention.
“Her younger sister, Minkyung just came back from studying abroad, she's 24, she's incorporating in the city again and she's amazing, she really grew up. Rest assured she's totally free from knowing the drama between you and you-know-who. Plus girls love a sad, tormented guy like you who wasn't to blame for the infidelity.”
Hyunjin noticed his distracted friend's serious expression, frowned with a small grimace and decided to play a little.
“Don't tell me you fell in love with y/n, I knew you fell fast but I didn't believe you that fast” he commented jokingly.
Minho raised his gaze and locked his gaze on the Hyunjin…. Minho wouldn't exactly call it being in love, he couldn't accept the term, he didn't even know you, just for the moment you lived in his head all the time and it was getting on his nerves and he wants to refute if he just needs to see you to cease the feeling. What Hyunjin jokingly mentioned, became serious to him once he deciphered the silence in the room so he hurried to say.
“I don't judge you. You see, Chan with that girl, he just bought her an apartment and…”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” replied Minho annoyedly hinting that he actually had feelings for you.
He couldn't feel anything —or so he thought— he just wanted to see you again and fuck you hard. Use you for his pleasure over and over again. But he thought it was necessary to get to know the person he would be inserting his penis inside a bit first, it wasn't like he was interested in you beyond sex —or at least he thought that—, he was just curious. But Hyunjin knew Minho was just tricking himself.
“If you want to see her again go ahead, twice is better than once. I promise not to touch her.”
“Of course you never will” Minho sentenced tensely, piercing his gaze with Hyunjin's.
Hyunjin knew instantly that Minho was in that denial phase and that, he was starting to doubt every feeling and emotion that his body emitted and Hyunjin understood it perfectly, after he was betrayed like that, he knew it was hard for Minho to open up again.
“Have you been with other girls from there?” added Minho more calmly once he realized he was being intense.
Hyunjin smiled sideways.
“No, I've only done sexting when I'm bored. No one would convince me until I saw y/n, so perfect not to see her in person; maybe she's worth it” encouraged Minho. “She's pretty, about to graduate from a good college, looks decent and nice.”
Minho wondered if you were worth it. That day once Hyunjin left his office, Minho concentrated on working and it wasn't until late that he remembered again that he'd go home alone and convinced himself to do so, to see you again since he was stressed and was a man with a heavy load every day, so you could help him with that. Minho finally tried to create a profile for himself, he spent minutes stressing sitting behind his desk waiting for his ID to verify until he could finally proceed, he was a little embarrassed about the process of posting pictures of himself and once he had everything ready he quickly looked you up, hoping that you had deleted your account, but at the same time to have a means in which to contact you. And to his greatest response, there you were; your face in some pretty selfies, a couple of others posing outside a club with a radiant smile, he scrolled down looking at all your information until he got to the bottom of your profile with blurred picture and a padlock on it with the description 'For more private content from Cheryl'. Minho blinked naively and tapped the screen, leading him to put in his bank card details and the description 'You will be charged ₩ 10 million when you unlock this feature'. Minho didn't even take 10 seconds as his data were on his phone and quickly unlocked that which he was curious about, he wished he had never done it, it was about pictures of your glorious semi naked body, a body he had touched days ago and was thirsty for more. He looked deeply and in detail at every photo, every angle and noticed that someone else had taken them, but who? He took his time analyzing them and the more he looked at them the more he was furious and clenched his left fist until he exited the app and locked his phone abruptly. He was annoyed and mildly aroused, and that could only be summed up in that he wanted to have you right now on his lap, fucking you furiously to remind you that no other pathetic man in that app could be better than him, make you come and scream better than him. He needed you now.
Minho impulsively opened the app again and offered a huge amount for you, quickly and without thinking he went to your private chat and simply typed «Accept me».
That evening you were relaxing on your couch watching TV, feeling bad because you missed Felix a little, hearing his deep voice saying anything and going out to eat together anywhere he had seen recommendations or trending on the internet.
You received a notification from your bank app and thought it would be another deposit for which you were grateful, you decided not to accept for the moment any other proposal and you would survive for a while with the money from the unlocking of your photos, although there was no regular number of income, and that frustrated you. By inertia you decided to browse a little in the app and saw something that stopped your heart for a second, a message from Lee Minho, you opened it quickly, you didn't believe it was Minho himself, he wasn't the type to be on apps like this, but there it was, his picture. You smiled without realizing it when you saw the small picture in the icon next to the message bubble, in which it said «Accept me». Your smile slowly faded and confused you were about to reply «what?» to him, until he saw that you had seen his message and quickly wrote «Or you need double». You quickly understood and checked your notifications, there it was: Lee Minho offered ₩ 900 million for a meeting. You opened your mouth in surprise, then remembered that he had said if you needed double which offended you that he had put 'need', you accepted it without thinking, impulsively.
You went back to his chat and were about to ask him what exactly he wanted to which he replied with the default message of clarifications: Hwang Palace, of Gangnam tomorrow at 7 o'clock at the restaurant in the Monet section. I need to talk to you.
You let out a sigh, having no idea why he would want to talk to you, besides you were a little hurt that he would have to pay to do so, you would have agreed to talk to him like any normal person with no money involved, sadly you thought he might never see you as anything other than... a woman who has to be paid for her service; you had no other choice, you thought that you had earned that reputation, even if you were just a little bit grateful for this unusual job already, if it wasn't for it you would have never met Minho or gone to an incredible and beautiful event like the one on Saturday…. well maybe it is possible for you to live that experience if you go out with Felix, but that hectic night no one else could have given it to you. A little annoyed you clicked on his picture icon showing his profile, you almost sighed again, seeing how gorgeous he looks, a mirror selfie, wearing a black button up shirt, looking disinterestedly down at the device. You looked at his details, CEO of Sweet Factory, a globally known snacks brand you usually bought at some convenience stores, you had no idea it was his, his birthday, two days after yours, yet he was older than you by almost 10 years, his blood type and even his MBTI, you lowkey had skipped that question. Suddenly you reacted, you were going to see him again tomorrow, your heart was racing.
[…]
The next day you made use of that money and bought a strapped pale yellow thigh-length sequin-detailed dress from 16Arlington, with a square neckline; you spent the day shopping for the perfect complement to your outfit and rushed home to get ready.
Two hours before your meeting, Minho texted you again, asking if you wanted him to pick you up; to which you said yes. Now you were twice as nervous and anxious.
Minho arrived half an hour earlier than planned due to his reservation, you were unsure about giving him your address but you still did it, you wanted to act as normal as possible and not like he had to pay to get the best of you, a nice attitude and appearance.
You got into his car, he had his left arm relaxed and holding the steering wheel, he swept his eyes over you and a smile came across his face seeing you looking so cute and dolled up for him.
“Hello, again” you mumbled shyly.
Minho kept looking at you with a smile and started his car. The drive was not uncomfortable despite being silent, you saw his profile side from time to time and noticed how truly attractive he looked, his strong and sharp nose, his round eyes showing with his elongated eyelashes, his upper lip finely bigger than the lower one and his marked jaw, you could watch him for hours.
He was dressed all in black, with his button down shirt tight to his body and the sleeves rolled up his arms, he was wearing tight jeans that showed off his thick and worked thighs so appetizing, you wanted to suddenly let out a gasp thinking how much you want to feel like sitting on his lap. Minho knew you were looking at him shamelessly and it almost made him blush.
He looked relaxed, but he wasn't, he had meticulously practiced every word he would say to you tonight. He was slyly looking at you all of a sudden and couldn't contain his excitement.
You arrived at the same place where it all started, Hyunjin's hotel, this time heading towards the restaurant where Minho mentioned the reservation on your behalf and soon you were guided to the place, entering a beautifully lit place, inspired by Claude Monet's paintings. You walked behind Minho the whole time and when you reached his table you bit your lip nervously before sitting down. You wanted to build confidence so you looked him straight in the eyes and he quickly caught your gaze too; you said:
“If you wanted to invite me to dinner you should have done it like any normal person.”
Minho tried to act cool so as not to raise suspicion of his nervousness, he looked at you without interest and raised an eyebrow.
“Normal?”
“You were able to look up my Instagram and ask me without... having to pay me” you whispered the last sentence.
“You don't want the money?” he replied curtly as he lowered his gaze to the menu.
You didn't know what to answer, but before he could assume an answer you rushed to tell him.
“I can give it back to you.”
Minho let out a chuckle and raised his gaze again to you.
“I don't care, you can keep it. Just like… something you forgot at my place.”
You frowned and Minho reached into his pants pocket, leaving the pair of earrings he'd bought you on Saturday on the table, you'd forgotten all about it.
“Agh, the old excuse of forgetting something at the other person's house so I'd be forced to return it to you and have to see you.” Minho smiled, playfully, “They're yours, keep them.”
You smiled shyly and took them, putting them away in your bag, you wanted to argue that you had genuinely forgotten them, but seeing Minho this proud made you feel somehow happy, he looked cute with his sideways smile and bright gaze.
“You planned all this just to return me a pair of earrings?” you played along.
“They're real diamonds, sweetie.”
Then Minho stared at you, from your groomed hair to the perfect slit in your chest, it became serious for him, he had to say what he had to say.
“I want you to delete your account on that app and work for me” Minho suddenly blurted out, you manifested confusion on your face, not sure what he was referring to, so he continued, “… as my personal assistant. You will have to follow me everywhere and be with me all the time.” he said, in a funny and proud way the last sentence.
You were still speechless, you didn't know where that was suddenly coming from, to which Minho continued.
“I'll pay you well, more well than you can earn doing that, plus it's a decent job.” he proposed, practically begging.
“Why?” was all you could articulate.
“Because I want you to quit…”
You pinned your gaze on his big eyes that were shining brighter than usual.
“Why should I work for you.”
“Why would you want to be doing the other thing for money anyway?” he replied submissively, on a pretty and pity look of his you never saw before.
You blinked suddenly, formulating the right words.
“I mean, why would I work for you if I don't know you… I don't know what you do…”
“You didn't see my information in my account?” he replied now in a funny tone, “I know you're not related to companies so I won't make you do that. Think about it. I'll leave you my number, I know you're still in college, tell me your schedule.”
You released a soft laugh, suddenly not believing what he just said.
“What’s so funny?” he said serious. “I never joke about work.”
You nodded, trying to decipher every hidden message he wanted to give you.
“What are you going to order?” he smiled at you.
[…]
“He wants you so bad.” said Hari from the other line of the call.
“I was so confused the whole time, I'm afraid he just wants to you know, fuck me.”
“So? I thought you loved sex with him.”
“Yeah… it's just that it won't be far from reality, he'll pay me to fuck him.”
“What? Why the sudden embarrassment about expressing your sexuality? He'll pay you normally for working with him, the sex will add a special touch. So, will you take him up on his offer?”
“I don't know, Hari…”
“Doesn't it turn you on that he's an older man with experience and money crazy about you? Because it works on me with Chan all the time. it's so funny, they're so needy, you'll have him wrapping around you finger soon.”
You had really loved every part of having sex with Minho, but you were in doubt whether you would feel bad about taking the offer. But today had been dreamy, he was a gentleman with you, asked about you, looking interested and dropped you off at your place without even touching a hair on your head and looking at you with lust.
Then you got home, after a nice dinner with Minho, you did the inevitable and deleted your account and existence from that server. You had a lovely night, you didn't think you could exchange more than two words with Minho, but he wasn't as cold and curt as he wanted to portray himself after all; this time he opened the door for you as you got in and out of his car. On the other hand Minho was so obsessed and on the lookout for you that he knew instantly when you deleted all your information, causing him to smile, after 5 minutes a message telling him that you could start in the afternoon.
[...]
When you woke up the next day, the first thing you saw was a new message from Lee Minho, depositing more money and telling you it was for you to start your new closet of elegant outfits. And so after a couple of classes you headed out to buy your first Chanel suits suitable for work.
And there you were, at 3 o'clock in the afternoon wearing a tweed style skirt and pale pink coat. You were feeling pretty and extremely nervous. Minho's secretary greeted you kindly and showed you what she could on you way to Minho's office up to the top floor of the building.
“The young lady is here.” his secretary informed Minho over the phone.
Minho smiled broadly and swiveled on his chair, ready to see you walk through his door. And there you were, looking as angelic as ever, you had taken his breath away, no doubt all those outfits were made for you no matter what, or what you were wearing you looked beautiful in his eyes, Chanel, Versace, Gucci or Prada, or naked in his arms, either way you stole Minho's breath away. You smiled shyly at him and walked towards him, Minho quickly stood up from his chair and moved dangerously close to you, bringing your bodies together, you raised your gaze to see his eyes better.
“Welcome to your first day of work,” he whispered sweetly, “they'll explain everything better outside and give you a tour.”
You looked into his eyes and then straight to his lips, you realized you hadn't kissed him in three days and you were dying to feel it. Minho liked to tease you, bringing his body closer, looking provocatively at you from above with a lascivious look, he couldn't wait to taste you. After he achieved his goal and saw your breathing getting heavy, he pulled away from you with a playful smile.
“Get to work.” he said to you.
You almost whimper not feeling his touch.
[...]
The rest of the working girls tried to socialize with you with the hidden intention of finding out who you were and why someone so young would work for Lee Minho as his assistant. You didn't know what to answer them, really your career was not related to her work environment but you thought that... being an actress who must build her way little by little, maybe in one of those jobs you could have been the assistant of a famous actress so you thought so to motivate yourself and not to think that you were only doing it because in a way your body and mind were asking you to be close to Minho and the opportunity had been opportune. You needed him.
You worked the rest of the day while his secretary told you what to do and what your job was from today, set up Minho's meeting times, set up meetings, etc. Occasionally when he would leave his office and return to it, he would see you tenderly concentrating with a frown trying to figure out whatever you were doing on the computer. It didn't take long for the rest of his employees to notice and the gossip began to detonate without you noticing. You still awkwardly hoped for some message from Minho, telling you whatever, but talking to you, you were frustrated and desperate, he never wrote you or addressed you, so in a way you were happy that it was a normal job and he treats you decently as an employee, but another part of you was so sad that he wouldn't talk to you to sneak into his office and fuck you hard, not even to give him a simple blowjob, you thought.
Your day was about to end, between work and the occasional flirtation with men, of whom you were not interested in the least, the man you wanted was now locked in his office and had total command and the highest position in the pyramid.
Everyone was starting to leave and you realized that you didn't discuss your departure time with Minho, so, almost hopping towards his office, you were going to see him to ask him; hoping that your presence in that room would escalate to something else quickly.
You knocked softly on his door until you heard a “Come in” in a fiery demanding tone. You quickly arranged your hair and skirt before entering, until you stepped through the door. You met a serious and concentrated Minho reading some sheets on his desk, you didn't want to interrupt him, but he realizing that someone opened the door and no one spoke, was about to complain annoyed and frustrated until he saw you and his face relaxed and lit up.
“What are you doing here?” he asked you softly.
“Everyone is leaving, I was wondering if I should…”
“What time is it?” sighed Minho frustratedly checking the watch on his wrist. “Agh,” he gasped in exasperation closing his eyes and dropping back in his chair, which you found extremely appealing, “I didn't notice the time.”
You swayed on your spot, still not receiving a response as you watched Minho try to recover, he looked tired, after all he worked more than 12 hours a day. So you slowly approached him, trying to hide your smile and, without him noticing your actions, as he was carving his face hard to be able to strip a little, you were already in front of him, with your butt leaning on his desk. Minho saw you with surprise as he noticed you were close by and cheekily watched your silhouette as he smiled sideways in satisfaction.
“You look stressed…” you said seductively leaning towards him and massaging his shoulders. Minho closed his eyes enjoying your touch, he really did need something like this. “Can I help you?”
Minho opened his eyes watching you piercingly and lustfully, you were starting to make him horny and there was no turning back.
“Will you do it? Will you work overtime?” he answered you with a deep voice and smile plastered on his face enjoying every second of your company.
“I'd do it for free” you approached him, brushing the tip of your nose with his. “Besides it's for the good of the company's head.”
He let out a chuckle as he watched your lips inches away. Minho finally grabbed you around the waist and made you sit roughly on his lap, bringing his lips together slowly, being careful in every detail of the kiss, even intensifying it by playing with his tongue in your mouth. At last, you were back crazy, you felt so wet in seconds, and one of your fantasies came true, you were sitting on his firm legs, whose worked muscle was not the only hard thing, you could feel his hard erection sticking to your ass and your sex throbbing in desperation as if she had a memory of her own remembering the sensation of Minho's big cock choking inside you.
You could only hear the sharp sound of your heaving breaths and your lips check in wet kisses, you were so turned on you could cum from just kissing him, Minho started slow and passionate and that soon rose to something more desperate and rough, you loved every bit of it. Breathlessly, you broke away from him without breaking eye contact, he loved seeing your innocent eyes full of desire. You were so exasperated to feel his hands on your body so you awkwardly and excitedly began to unbutton your coat, your heart was pounding and you felt every beat pounding in your ears and your eyes throbbing with excitement. Minho watched your movements, your fingers struggling against the buttons until finally opening it, revealing your bare chest and abdomen only wearing your bra. Minho bit his lips completely horny, however he didn't agree that you had nothing down below on.
“You were walking around like that, with nothing on underneath” he tried to scold you.
You smiled playfully at his angry reaction. If that was his reaction of you wearing a bra, let alone the tiny, provocative underwear you were wearing in case he wanted to fuck you, and he was about to. Although Minho wanted a great fuck, something to say how much he missed you… but the way you were teasing him and playing like a slut, so he thought, drove him crazy, he couldn't stand the thought of you walking around susceptible to catching the attention of other men.
“You'll get angrier taking my skirt off, then” you moved closer to his left ear muttering.
Minho let out an annoyed sigh, almost snorting, he wanted to take your ass and whip it until he made you cry and understand that you could not provoke anyone but him. As you slowly pulled away, brushing his cheeks you saw Minho's dark stern countenance, he was no longer smiling enjoying himself and playing. You thought he looked fucking good this upset, that he even scared you a little, you smiled in nervousness.
“Take that off” he ordered you, smacked looking down at your bra and jacket.
You obeyed him instantly and, you still saw the darkness of desire in his big brown eyes, but his expression was still serious, annoyed. Minho settled you, turning your body with agility, so that your back was pressed against his chest, pulled your hair back from your right side and positioned his head next to yours between the space of your neck and shoulders. He stroked your thighs with his right hand until he slipped his large hand inside your skirt and deftly searched your delicious crease line from your clitoris to your soaking wet entrance. Minho smiled softly feeling your body contract at his slightest touch to your pussy. On the other hand, his left hand and forearm held and squeezed your breasts tightly; having you completely overwhelmed and compressed to his body roughly.
Minho parted the thin fabric of your underwear with his fingers while with the rest he began to play energetically with your pussy, massaging in slow and delicate movements your weak spot making you tremble and producing more and more slippery and thick fluids sliding down your entrance, you were so ecstatic. And, to further increase your pleasure combined with torture, he took it upon himself to pinch your nipples and squeeze your breasts hard. Minho never took his caresses away from your clitoris taking you to the extreme and in surprise he started to fuck you with two of his long fingers quickly causing you to let out a little scream.
Every now and then you let your head lean back on your boss's shoulder giving you pleasure, your body was tense, every muscle in you felt stiff from the position you were in and the sudden pleasure you were getting. You were about to relax, let go and cum, but once Minho noticed, he abruptly released you and took your chin to look at him, leaving you no time to whine about your first missed orgasm.
“Suck my cock now” he commanded you fiercely almost pushing your head down.
You opened your mouth in amazement, until you got on your knees and stripped him of his tight belt and his suffocating pants and underwear. Even your mouth became wet as you saw again Minho's big manhood firm and hard in front of your eyes, you were so ready for the to suck him off. You felt it so exquisitely in your hands, there was no other cock like Minho's you had ever tasted, let alone wanted to surpass, you loved that it was perfect and so well kept, Minho kept his area very well waxed and clean; you couldn't tell it was to size because it hurt from how swollen and big it was as he fucked you through your vagina.
You leered at Minho, heart and pussy throbbing; he was looking down at you from above with a serious expression, his mouth was pulled together in a thin line and his trademark high cheekbones on his face showing no emotion, you knew he was aroused by his breathing and his latent cock in your hand. You stuck out your tongue and flicked his hard cock in it, while making eye contact with him for a few seconds. You sighed and began to devour his manhood. Minho gasped, grabbed your hair in a fist and lifted his hips a little, accidentally ramming your mouth making his cock reach to touch a little deeper into your palatal uvula.
“Fuck me deeper, princess” Minho whined, pushing your head and moving his hips.
It was huge, you took slight gasps of air every now and then, you were pleasurably suffering, your eyes were watering, you were leaking cum and saliva and Minho's gasps and little grunts were your favorite soundtrack, you were delighted both sensorially and aurally. Minho pushed you further until you felt him touch your throat a little, your body reacted and he quickly pulled your hair back, pulling his full length out of your mouth all at once, the sudden movement made it splash little droplets of liquid in the air falling on your bare tits, you were a mess, your lips and tip of your nose were red and swollen, your eyes were watering, and you were so flushed, you tried to catch your breath, looking loosely towards Minho who smiled so broadly showing his teeth, his tender uneven front incisors in the shape of a bunny.
“Oh, look at you” he said huskily in a look of pure pride, seeing his greatest treasure, your pleasure.
Minho, extremely excited took the base of his stiff cock with his fingers and wiggled it close to your face, slapping your pretty face gently.
“Come here and show me your nice ass, love.”
You gave everything to stand up again, you were weak, trembling and so soaked in your fluids. He turned you roughly by the waist, making you rest your palms on his desk. You raised your ass for him and arduously Milnho tried to pull up your skirt but the material was somewhat thick and unmanageable.
“Take my skirt off” you whimpered in supplication as you felt his hands run up and down your thighs.
“You have no right to tell me what to do unless I ask you to” Minho demanded and roughly pulled the skirt up as best he could, squeezing your waist tighter due to it being high waisted, you groaned at the friction.
Minho finally stood up, stroking your soft buttocks, his outside cock jumping at the movement. You felt the tip of his cock rub against your skin even though he was withdrawn, you wanted him to fuck you now, you wanted it to ache so good just the way he knew how.
Minho took his time, sliding down your soaked panties, appreciating the sweet liquid dripping into you, once he pulled the fabric down.
“Shit, y/n, did you cum already or are you just this wet?” he said in a sigh, sad that you didn't deserve to have your pussy eaten today.
You nodded and whimpered as you felt an unexpectedly hard spank.
“Yes what? I'm not a fucking mind reader, use your words.”
“I-i'm so wet” you whined.
“All that…?” Minho let out a haughty chuckle, thinking all that, just for a few touches from him. “Now, how many spankings for you to understand that you shouldn't act like a whore and go around with nothing on under your work clothes? Speak up!”
You couldn't think straight, last time Minho whipped you so hard that he left you sore for at least up to twelve hours after the blow.
“Five” you stammered without reasoning it out. Minho laughed derisively.
“Let's make it ten because I really met you being a fucking whore. Count them or we start again from zero.”
You screamed as you felt the first spank and gasped breathlessly “One.”
By the fourth spank you couldn't take it anymore, his hand was too heavy and the sound of the smack against your skin was so grotesque. You leaned limply back on your elbows on his desk, biting your lip hard and almost crying, you were still saying the scourge number as you were not thinking clearly, you did not want to be hit twice as hard again. Despite feeling so much pain, you felt strangely so much pleasure, you could feel the tip of Minho's cock brush against your entrance as he came on you.
“Did you learn your lesson, baby?”
“Yes” you cried, your buttocks were burning and you felt the flow of your blood travel fast fighting for your well being.
“Did it hurt?” whispered Minho excitedly leaning into your ear.
“Yes” you pleaded again.
You felt his rough balls and penis rub against your spine, then he pulled away from you, Minho unbuttoned his shirt quickly so it wouldn't get in the way of what he was about to do and, without warning, finally you cried out as you felt him all the way inside of you.
“So you want me to go slow, doll?” he asked ecstatically.
But despite your growing pain, you denied, you wanted to feel every millimeter of his cock inside, you had been looking forward to it so much that you even endured horrible strokes.
“No?” asked Minho incredulously. “Well, you said it. You love being fucked like a slut.”
And he began to penetrate you roughly and deeply, touching your sensitive buttocks; it felt so good, reaching all the way to your cervix with no problem. You gasped endlessly, it was pleasure to feel his cock filling your pussy roughly and your miserable body destroyed, strangely you loved it.
“I'm going to fill your pretty pussy, I'm going to cum in you, you like that, yes?” panted Minho speeding up his onslaught.
After minutes of thundering sex, your bodies joined together creating moaning sounds and skin on skin collisions, your aching body could take no more and you exploded enveloping and lubricating more of Minho's veiny cock, which was still thrusting in and out mercilessly, until after a small whimper, Minho's abdomen contracted and he cursed something barely understandable throwing his head back in complete pleasure, filling your insides with his semen. He slowly slid his length outward, opening your tight pussy a little with his thumbs, satisfied at the grotesque scene of his cock emerging from your orifice bathed in his thick white liquid.
You lay there for a few seconds, sprawled on his desk trying to catch your breath while Minho did the same, resting his cock on your buttocks. He tried to lift you up, you were in pain and lying down, he made you turn to look at him, cleaned the rest of the residue around your mouth and kissed you sweetly.
You received the first care after Minho's sex.
[…]
Your butt hurt so bad but you still followed Minho home since, according to him he had an important meeting at another company and wanted you to help him pick out the perfect outfit. And then you walked into his huge closet, almost making you sigh, it was a room that could easily be for rent in a crowded city like this. His shelves with his Gucci suitcases, his bags perfectly arranged and hung, you stopped looking perplexed at the space and returned your gaze to Minho who was watching you.
“What should I wear?” he said.
You walked over to the clothes and started searching without any idea in mind, you didn't know what he had in his closet so it was hard to think of the perfect outfit, you knew he would outshine any simple businessman anyway. You grabbed clothes at random choosing a white shirt, pants, jacket and tie, all in black.
“It looks good, do you want me to try it on?”
You mumbled a soft “Mm?”, but you were surprised to see Minho look down at his pants as he took them off, embarrassed you reflexively looked away as if you hadn't seen it all before. He noticed your reaction and smiled. However you couldn't help it, you had never seen him get dressed before so looking guilty and slyly you managed to see how the pants went up with agility but got slightly stuck on his package, Minho had to adjust it and, he put on the shirt so attractively raising his arms and sliding them inside the sleeves. Minho took your hand and directed it towards the terminals of it, indicating you to help him button it, he watched you carefully, wishing he could live like this with you on a daily basis. Suddenly the tension grew in you again, you looked up, into his eyes….
“It looks good on you” you murmured in front of his face.
Minho pulled you to his body pushing your ass ready to kiss you, but you moaned in pain.
“How can I make it up to you?” he said sympathetically noticing your pain.
You didn't know what to reply, to which Minho silenced your thoughts with a tender, slow kiss. Without realizing it and very carefully, you sat down on the stool in the middle of the closet; Minho was ready to make you happy again. He spread your legs apart and once again ruined your skirt by roughly lifting it up, he fiddled with your cunt which was just starting to get wet, Minho thought it looked just as nice and tidy, almost as if a few hours ago it hadn't been completely destroyed.
Minho buried his head between your legs, positioning your legs on his shoulders, he squeezed your thighs hard and you felt some of his warm saliva lubricate your pussy further. He was devouring you alive. His tongue digging at your entrance and his nose rubbing your center, you rolled your eyes in pure pleasure.
[…]
You had mentioned to Minho that you would be more comfortable if he took you home, so he did, he offered you to stay with the condition that early in the morning he could not attend you, that even when you were able to wake up he would not be at home due to his important day of meetings, so he would be at each of them as early as possible.
You said goodbye to him, both with an intense look and warm smile. You headed to your apartment and to your surprise, Felix was waiting at your door.
“Sorry, I wanted to see you and you weren't answering your messages” Felix sketched a smile once he saw.
Felix examined you and noticed your expensive suit, but wanted to save himself the question, he sensed something was up and preferred to live in ignorance than to know something that could hurt him. You smiled tenderly at him and invited him in.
“I missed you” he said and kissed you quickly on the cheek.
You felt horrible, he had stolen that kiss from you but… even if you had washed your face, you had had another man's cock around your face. You knew you and Minho weren't exclusive but… you couldn't be with two men at once. But the way Minho drove you crazy, there was no comparison, his sex slapping against yours, his skill in everything he does, making you beg if necessary.
“Is something wrong?” you were distracted by Felix, you denied softly. “Will you sit down?”
Oh, you couldn't do it, your ass was still burning with pain from Minho's spanking. And you weren't the least bit upset.
[…]
The next day was just as Minho had told you, he would be busy outside the company, you almost didn't see him even though you followed him everywhere as his assistant. There you were, in 7 different waiting rooms, just watching him move around with other executives as you tried to keep up with them. You could tell how focused he was and how important it was to him because he barely saw you.
Once his long day was over, almost two hours before the end of the working hours he set for the workers, you both walked silently to the car where the driver started off towards Minho's company.
You looked at him, he was serious, wearing exactly the suit you had chosen for him and, he almost seemed annoyed, you wanted to ask him what it was that suddenly made him angry, but he turned to look at you and smiled sideways, caressing your hand that rested on that long seat, both were sitting at each end of the side of the window.
After the silent ride, Minho went straight to his office and you felt like you were stranded there. Ten minutes later you got a message from him that he wanted you in his office now. You smiled, thinking he would be willing to talk.
You walked in and once he saw you, he held up his hands waving them in a sign for you to come closer.
“Come here.” he ordered you.
You walked confused and understood that he wanted you on his lap so you sat down… it wasn't the kind of encounter you projected, you really thought he wanted to talk but… if he wanted to do that, you didn't complain.
Minho suddenly had a sad, sorrowful look on his face and, there it was in him, the question that drove him crazy.
“Tell me, y/n, have you been with other men?” he suddenly blurted out.
You watched him for a few seconds examining his expression… that puzzled you too much, he seemed genuinely sad. You didn't know what to say, so you laughed in nervousness, thinking about what kind of question that was. Why he suddenly cared.
Minho had had a horrible experience among pure men, secreting contemptuously about girls like you, at least about your version of the secret, past life of yours. Something inside of him… he became angry little by little, until he felt stranded, he couldn't think about the fact that you were touched by someone else and, the worst was when he had to see how other guys approached you to flirt with you during his little business trip.
Minho saw you laugh but didn't find it the least bit funny, he actually almost cried in front of you, asking you that question.
“Well, clearly I'm not a saint…”
“I am referring to men before me who also received your… former service.”
You stared at him trying to decide if he was drunk from his nonsensical questions. But Minho was only crazy about you, it was his doom in dope. He couldn't resist it, little by little he realized, that he wanted you together with him and for him.
You laughed again and without answering him you kissed him, you had never seen him so yielded and submissive, his eyes shone almost wanting to shed tears, strong emotions made Minho sentimental despite being a rough man. You didn't think he was like that.
And for the first time he let you take control, he felt so lost in you, you lowered your kisses down his neck, unsure if you should continue, Minho saw you hesitating before him and placed his hand over yours near his shirt. He looked you straight in the eyes, suddenly darker than usual and said:
“Let's do something fun tonight.”
You smiled. There was the Minho you knew. He let you unbutton his shirt and a matter of a couple of minutes, your desperate hands masturbated his cock as you sought to adjust it to your pussy, mounting him in his chair. That dangerous game was getting out of hand, you felt so good that without thinking about it you could become obsessed.
Hours later that night, Minho took you to his room where you quickly noticed sex toys lying on the bed. You swallowed and let out an incredulous chuckle and looked at Minho who was calmly taking off his watch leaving it on his TV cabinet without paying attention to you. You liked his definition of fun.
“I can't believe it, you're like Christian Grey in real life.” you said amused.
Minho turned to look at you.
“Who?”
“You don't know 50 shad-, never mind, you must be too old for that.”
He smiled sideways at your comment and moved dangerously close to you.
“You think I'm too old for you?” he whispered to you.
You denied in amusement biting your lip, you loved it when he had the dominant one.
“Let's try something new,” he spoke curtly “get undressed.”
Your imagination flew at the sight of the objects on the bed and you nimbly stripped off all your clothes, waiting for more orders from Minho.
“Get on your knees on the bed.”
Confused, you tried to follow his instructions and, you saw him take the pink rope from the bed, your breath hitched, thinking he was going to tie you up.
“You know how I love camping? I'm very good with knots.” you looked at him smiling.
Minho slowly started to wrap you in that rope, passing it across your abdomen, breasts, tying your wrists behind your back, as well as your feet and suddenly you had lost your balance, you were completely immobile and tied tightly.
“We should go camping sometime.” you replied.
He took the ball gag and without saying anything, placed it in your mouth, this was getting interesting for you. You were lying on your side, impossible to move, Minho arranged you so that you were facing him, uncomfortable in your position as your hands and legs were attacked right behind.
And then the tantalizing game began, with Minho taking the vibrator he had prepared, sticking it on your clitoris as you moved in desperation in search of relaxation of your muscles, thinking about how you had come this far, being sexually pleasured every day.
“I'm going to fuck you hard” he warned you.
He did it the only way he could get away with it, your moans were drowned out by the ball gag and Minho faced the amusing and slightly humiliating sight of your needy body, wanting to escape the restraints.
Minho loved sex with you and the myriad of sensations you made him feel… but now he was so curious that there was connection beyond something sexual. He wanted to walk you and spoil you while you dressed so pretty for him. He would do anything for you.
[…]
“What is y/n doing here?” asked Hyunjin as he approached Minho.
Hyunjin had visited him since, despite being busy, he had something important to tell him. However your presence on his way to Minho's office surprised him.
“She works here.” replied Minho, leaning on his desk reading papers and not looking at Hyunjin.
“She works here? Isn't she like 20?” he repeated incredulously.
This time Minho raised his eyes and gave him a dirty look. Hyunjin understood instantly, the almost forgotten detail he noticed from the beginning, the obviousness in which Minho liked you.
“Speaking of age” Hyunjin continued, “I'm here because you know I don't hold back surprises and… you're very likely to ditch me or cancel at the last minute on the date, but this is something you can't cancel, since it's about your surprise birthday party.”
Minho looked at him confused, he hadn't even asked for a party.
“Hyunjin, I appreciate it but… you know you could have done something small.”
“I know, I remembered it once I had invited everyone. It will be this Saturday at my mother's country club. You got to celebrate welcoming your thirties.”
Minho checked the time, he didn't want to rush Hyunjin but you and him would have their first normal date…
And for both of you, it couldn't have been better, you talked so much, you knew Minho's various giggles and the weirdness in which he explained each of his stories, using gestures, you remembered every detail about him. Just like his sudden news that he would help you in your real professional career, you didn't want to accept it at first, but he had awkwardly said something to about how pretty you would look on every red carpet, blushing all over you. And you found yourself terrified that… you might like him. Since you'd had everything just the way you envisioned, a tender, perfect date, involving roses and ending… having sex so sweetly it makes you doubt if it's love.
You had asked Minho to give you the next day off, since you wanted to support Felix all the time in his short film project that he created and directed. The ceremony started and, almost like a revelation, you wanted to cry, it had been beautiful and it was about love, something unknown to you… you wondered if… after all… it could be Minho the person with whom you could cry without worry.
Felix saw you sad and knew you so well that he understood every single sign you gave as if you were in love, but sadly, they were not towards him. It was time to let you go.
And to you, almost as if reading your mind, you received a message from Minho, saying he was having a party tomorrow and needed you to help him pick out an outfit.
[…]
Everything was ready thanks to Hyunjin, people chatting with champagne glasses in their hands on the large green grassy area celebrating Minho's birthday in advance. You thought he looked so good in well pressed black cloth pants, black boots and a light blue shirt, with the Gucci cherry baseball jacket with white adding a great touch.
When you sat down to eat at the elongated table, you sat next to Minho, who, with a mischievous smile, and under the table, with guests present, slipped his hand under your dress, playing with your pussy a little. You thought he was unbelievable, always looking for an excuse to have your attention and reaction, you stopped him, once you were so wet and you were barely going to get to slowly approach your climax.
“Excuse us” Minho said grabbing you by your forearm, making you stand up.
Minho couldn't hold it in any longer. The crowd made him anxious and he found a certain safe space in you, so he dragged you out of sight of the crowd, and as he did so, you managed to quickly grab a cupcake from the dessert table.
You were about to eat your cupcake, slightly disinterested in whatever Minho was going to tell you, until you looked at Minho's pale expression, it alarmed you a little, you blinked worriedly but he interrupted you.
“I want you to be mine, I want to help in whatever you do, I want to be there for you all the time…”
Minho spoke, only as he knows how, trying to be gentle, but with a certain intensity in his actions and look.
You smiled sweetly, thinking of the rare way to say 'I like you', playfully smeared a bit of cupcake cream on the tip of his nose, causing him to tenderly giggle.
“I like you too, Minho.”
You smiled and licked the polish off his nose. Minho grabbed you by the waist bringing your bodies closer and looked at you sweetly.
“Tomorrow is your birthday, what do you want to do? I would do anything for you.”
--------------------
₊˚⊹ ᰔ TAGLIST: @stayceebs97 @linocz @kimseungminsprincess @xhazmania @strayzid
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iinryer · 2 days
Text
so. i have been saying since the top of the season that this feels like a reset, and a reintroduction to the characters (which makes sense for a new network!)—i know others have talked about to being a transitional and setup season as well, which i agree with.
ive been thinking about parallels and mirrors and what it might mean to overlay season seven over season four, the things that could possibly imply…
Tumblr media
[ID under the cut for easier legibility than alt]
(self indulgent honorable mention parallel: eddie’s blood in buck’s mouth, tommy’s soot on buck’s lips)
season four is the only other non-pilot season to have less than the full 18 episodes. season four is also the only season that ends on a life-altering arc-beginning injury for a member of the 118 (which also makes sense for a shorter than usual season, big hook to make up for the fewer episodes).
at the end of season four, eddie and bobby both end up dramatically injured (sniper). the end of season four also has the first mention of the will. now, i cannot say for sure that either of these are going to be mirrored, BUT. looking at the roadmap they’ve already given us… i have some feelings and predictions :)
and i’m not even going to begin digging into the vertigo references, others have more eloquent things to say, but i wanted to at least mention it because i DO think it’s going to come into play…
(if you can think of any other 4/7 parallels i would LOVE to hear them)
———
IMAGE ID: a three column spreadsheet with the categories “PLOT POINT” , “SEASON 4”, and “SEASON 7”. the text reads:
Buck learns something life-altering that makes things about the rest of his life make sense in hindsight
- S4: Daniel reveal
- S7: Bisexuality discovery
Eddie meets a woman and ends episode 7 of the season on a date with her
- S4: Ana
- S7: Kim
Maddie and Chimney have a major milestone in their relationship
- S4: Jee is born
- S7: They’re getting married
Something horrible happens right before they do
- S4: Albert’s accident
- S7: Chimney gets sick and goes missing
Buck makes a fool of himself on a first date
- S4: Veronica, and the “double date”
- S7: Tommy
Hen and Karen have struggles with the foster system and how to best protect and provide for their foster kids
- S4: Nia
- S7: Mara
Athena and Bobby have trouble communicating, putting their relationship in a rocky spot
- S4: Bobby sponsoring the woman from the pileup and hiding it, Athena telling Bobby that she had considered retirement but never talked to him
- S7: The cruise ship and Athena being unable to tell Bobbby why she's so uncomfortable with the prospect of down time together
Someone talks to Eddie about following his own desires in a relationship, not what's expected
- S4: Bobby about Ana, Carla about Ana
- S7: Bobby about Marisol
Buck has a heart to heart with Christopher about the anxiety he has towards the fragility of relationships with the people in his life
- S4: Shannon and people leaving him, feeling isolated during the pandemic
- S7: Shannon and the girls he's leading on
Hen and Karen meet another parent related to their foster children
- S4: Meeting Nia's mom in the park and having lunch with her and Nia
- S7: Finding Tyson and reconnecting him with Mara
Someone with the initials TK that Buck met in relation to a helicopter, kisses Buck in his kitchen after Eddie gets hurt and then has to leave
- S4: Taylor
- S7: Tommy
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k0juki · 1 day
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jealous joost x gn!reader where joost is on tour and reader is a photographer who goes with him to the concerts and while reader is taking photos someone grabs them and reader is just uncomfy but gets away from them and just decided to take a break for the night, going backstage and cheers joost on from the background
joost gets more clingy, comforting reader even tho he is being dramatic while reader is like “joost im oka—“ “are you hurt? youre mine.. the nerve they had to touch you..” and hes just whiny yk :0
😵 A/n: quick blurb. I'll definitely write something like this again, but a longer... I didn't had much time, so I did what I could... sorry I will write it again!
Joost Klein x gn!reader
You're mine
Wc: 196
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Joost noticed your absence almost immediately. His adrenaline was still coursing from the performance, but his concern for you cut through the euphoria. He found you backstage, leaning against a wall, trying to steady your breathing.
"Hey," Joost's voice was gentle but edged with worry as he approached you. "What happened out there? Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fin-" You tried to reassure him, but Joost was already in full protective mode, his arms wrapping around you almost instinctively.
"Are you hurt? Did someone touch you? They had no right..."
You chuckled softly, despite yourself, at Joost's dramatic reaction. "Joost, I'm okay. It was just a fan getting too excited. Nothing serious."
He pulled back slightly to look into your eyes, his expression softening but still firm. "But they shouldn't have touched you like that. You're mine, you know that?"
You nodded, touched by his possessiveness but also finding it endearing. "I know, Joost. Thank you for being so protective."
He sighed dramatically, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "I can't help it. Seeing you out there, exposed like that... it makes me want to keep you close."
"I'm alright Joost, really." You softly told him.
---
A/n: sorry that I wasn't here for days! Life just fucks with me every day!
Don't copy or translate my work!
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elanorpam · 1 day
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it's been way too long since i last did wildly self-indulgent fanart, so of course i did it for an SVSSS AU that doesn't even have any actual fanfiction written of it yet. but what can i say! it's a compelling scenario! Just check the original post for details!
here's a workplace doodle for his mess of an outfit, too:
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Xin Mo is floating behind his back, wrapped in talismans. the collars are meant to be vaguely inspired on a flower bud.
Some notes i came up with for this version, copied straight from a month-old discord convo:
he may have protagonist halo now, but he's for sure not a stallion protagonist. he literally exchanged fates with his favorite person in the world in order to spare them a hellish trial-- that's romantic as fuck!! damn!! this is old CLAMP shoujo and no mistake!!
binghe may no longer be the protag, but he's still a half-heavenly demon. power-wise, heavenly demons can't be topped, and all the remaining heavenly demons are accounted for. so, SQQ can't be a heavenly demon, even in part.
HOWEVER, as a protagonist, there's a factor more important than power! it's the CHUUNI FACTOR. what's more CHUUNI™️ than being part demon?
one option is being part demon and part angel.
how would that even fucking work??????? IDK man, you can either pull from chinese folklore for fairies or heavenly beings or spirits, or you can blame Airplane and go "he accidentally implied the existence of christian elements by means of importing unexamined anime tropes"
Shen Jiu conveniently has a big fat blank on his parentage. We as fans can and have put whatever the hell we wanted there.
SQQ would jump into the abyss still under the impression SJ was a shallow villain. If his trip through the abyss involves recovering SJ's memories somehow, that sure would be fun times, huh?
so he awakens a mysterious ancestry and survives the abyss and takes Xin Mo, but he probably takes longer than Binghe did due to being squishier.
but Xin Mo isn't ACTUALLY his! so he papers it over with sealing talismans, and to battle the temptation to wield it he takes to wearing these longass sleeves. they're probably covered in talismans as well.
guessing Xiu Ya stayed behind to be mooned over by the clown trio in Cang Qiong. let's go full sparkle-sue here and say he's now fighting almost entirely via musical cultivation. i like swan-necked konghou harps so let's go with that, it'll look dope.
why is he barefoot? why WOULDN'T he be, is the question. fragile!! suffering!! dainty!! he's a shrinking flower, tormented by the weight of the One Sword To Rule Them All!!
also for extra pathos, his constant mental struggle against Xin Mo means he can't spare energy to front. it takes constant focus! he's still a bit in his delusional shit, but even when he's going "oh no, binghe is only latched throat-deep onto my dick because he's a good boy who's concerned about me and the danger i could pose by losing control" he'd probably… well, he'd probably say that out loud to anyone who asked. he's in a half-trance, mentally battling the crazy-making sword. lying is too much work.
Wouldn’t resisting Xin Mo’s influence be the mental and spiritual equivalent to training under 400x gravity or something? his wife-beam is going to be off the charts when he puts it down.
also also: who the hell dressed him like that? fucking shang qinghua, of course, after SQQ showed up in the northern palace to punish MBJ for hurting binghe in the conference. did the system explain shit to SQH? on the one hand, extremely funny if it updates him on the role change out of nowhere mid-alliance. on the other hand, extremely funny if he only finds out because Binghe is crying safely in Qing Jing while the scum villain apparently jumped into the abyss.
Here's another link to the original AU post! I've had it open on a tab all this time just so i could point to it when I was done, so make sure to check it out!
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sharkylass · 22 hours
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YOU I LIKE YOU @faislittlewhiteraven These questions are a little hard to answer with doodles but I tried my best- Nil generally has a pretty heroic and brave personality overall. She's loud and brash and ready to jump into things super quickly.
She's not the best with words, but she is very reliable overall
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More art and writing under cut, it's just a long post man-
In terms of helping about during travels, she likes doing a lot of heavy labor jobs- She's the type to fix broken fences, gather supplies for folks, carry stuff around, tend to crops or lend a help wrangling animals. Nil wouldn't be great at things like sorting and organizing tho- Just tell her what you need and where to put it and she will! I mentioned she's not really the best with words (she is very emotionally intelligent just sometimes struggles to communicate stuff), HOWEVER, With folks that have been frozen she connects with a lot. How it's scary that you've been frozen for so long when your entire belief is to change and evolve, how (if Mal Du Pays is anything to go by) they had to fight their own demons in there, how everything can change so easily without you even noticing- It's terrifying to think about.
Actually- a while ago I made battle sprites with Nil- I wasn't happy with them so I never shared them BUT
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Specifically I wanted to contrast her frozen sprite with everyone else's- Cause if she were to SOMEHOW be frozen again, knowing what it feels like, what could happen while she's out- It would TERRIFY her instantly. Not just a mild shock or surprise, it would stick with her for a while-
Speaking of battles tho-
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Nil is super brash and lively as a whole. She puts up a brave face for a LOT of things, including fighting. She jumps in without really thinking, and as long as it goes their way, she'd have a smile on her face doing it.
However, while brave, it does come from both a place of coping and naivety. She's not used to genuine fighting, in fight or flight situations she actually tends to flee. (Which is why honestly, if she had to fight the King I don't think she could do it-)
If a battle were to start going south, she'd actually start to panic more then anyone else- Physical wounds and seeing the people she loves hurt would lower her accuracy and general capabilities, despite the brave face she puts on.
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And due to her lack of experience, especially in bigger groups- Nil tends to... miscalculate sometimes
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She had to learn the hard way not to just jump at any opportunity she sees. The party can see where Bonnie got it from (also after the battle Nille proceeded to heal Sif, profusely apologizing, I forgot to doodle that whoops-) (Also gameplay wise, imagine every second turn she does an action of her own without your command)
Also just the Sif image by itself cause I liked it :]
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As for chores and stuff-
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She does foraging and stuff! Honestly I don't think the other 5 would have done so before they traveled together.
Mira would have most DEFINITELY learned about it but didn't feel confident in her abilities. Bonnie will grab stuff they think is edible from what they remember Nille telling them and they'd grab a stick to cook. Odile would not be interested and would prefer buying the ingredients rather then wild scavenging. Isa doesn't read to me as a biology student, I see him more of a math history type of guy, so either he doesn't know, or him and Mira did it occasionally together, but only as a last resort type of deal (maybe when it was just the two of them and they had to manage alone) And Sif in my mind is an accident prone goober who'd forget which ones are edible and which ones aren't so I wouldn't trust him personally.
SO! LONG STORY SHORT! I don't think any of them are really experienced with foraging. And as a means to make money management easier- I imagine Nil (nature being a passion of sorts to her) took up the mantle! Probably taught the rest how to do it too!
That's it when it comes to stuff specific to her- Other then that she's kind of ready to help out with anything! She can help set up tends, do odd jobs for money, help cook if for WHATEVER reason Bonnie wanted her to or wanted to do something else in that time, bring water, wood, fish, help with weapons- She's not the best at those things, but if anyone needs a hand to be lent- she is there!
I'll be entirely honest, I don't think I understand your last question- But I do wanna say that Nil and Isa become like. Best buds real quick. He is the first one she instantly trusts, since she rivals with Mira, is prickly with Odile and Sif is someone she wants to help rather then ask for help. So if she needs someone to turn to, or needs a partner in crime- Nil would turn to Isa And now I just imagined Mira and Nil bonding over how to grow plants. Cause Mira tried REALLY REALLY HARD and couldn't do it, so Nille would actually love to give some tips- Imagine Mira genuinely walking up to her with a little alive plant with a proud glint in her eyes and have Nil fully support her- Honestly I could keep going for forever, I have so many thoughts on her and her dynamic with everyone- Bro I even have nicknames, you don't even know-
BUT I'M GONNA CUT IT HERE, HAVE FUN, I'VE BROUGHT SOME FOOD FOR NOW-
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hollyhomburg · 2 days
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Before I Leave You (Pt.70)
(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)
Summary: The one where the pack goes on a group bender. 
Tags: Fluff, only a little hurt mostly just comfort, scenting, bathing, drinking, drunk characters, recovery from past abused, nightmares, trans! tae, dress up, girl on girl fluff, omegaspace, themes of forgiveness, vomiting, eating disorder mention but everything's good, Brief implied sexual content, Talks of mental disorders, murder,
W/c: 12.6k
Note: The part where it links to a playlist on youtube may be a little distracting if you do not like to read with loud music on! feel free to skip it and then go back to listen to it <3 although it is not the first song in the playlist- hot to go by chappell roan is the unofficial official song of the chapter <3
Previous part - Masterlist - First part
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The pack spends the next three days getting drunk off their asses and trying their hardest to forget the last 3 weeks. Everything since you and Hobi found that body at the beach all those weeks ago.
There are no police officers at the door, no red and blue lights that cloud the air, or tense words spat between you. No plans devilish or delightful. Sometimes there are thin bands of sunlight that slip through the blinds and that's a big event. Other times- the big kitchen light shines brighter than any sun. Daytime and nighttime blend and blur together until you’re not sure what day it is or how many days it’s been since all of you became free.
Freedom. It feels like a dirty word.
Young, drunk, and honest, the days blend together. Drinking away the last few weeks might not be the best move, neither the healthiest nor the most productive decision to drink yourselves dizzy until it doesn’t matter that there’s a person buried in your basement, that Jin shot Jimin, or that you almost left them. The truth of love is clean compared to what you might do, what you have done- for the people you love.
For once no one judges, no one cuts you off after one or three or five drinks because it's too much for a pup like you. No one even stops Jungkook from getting giggly from champagne and drinking more than his seizures would normally allow. You deserve it, a few nights of fun, a few nights to live like the 20-somethings that you all are without the weight of trying to survive and secrets weighing you down.
It’s okay, if Jungkook has a seizure that will be the least of your worries.
The hours blend and blur. Jin submits his resignation paperwork for the FBI and has a quick video call with the director, the rest of the pack tries to be quiet but fails several times (once when namjoon pops a bottle of champagne and hits himself in the face with a flying cork, and again when he and Yoongi clink their glasses and predictably break them on accident sending champagne all over the floor. it's not the first glass that breaks that night but it is the first one that makes Jin laugh.)
You and Jungkook lay sprawl across his lap, just out of sight and giggling every few minutes. nuzzling under Jin's shirt to scent his sensitive stomach. Your fingers play with Jungkook's on Jin's hips, and you teeth listlessly at the soft skin just above his belly button, just so that you don't speak or let out an embarassingly needy whine. His hands and long fingers card through your hair and shushing your laughter just barely. Jin doesn't have the heart to tell anyone not to laugh, especially after the last few days no- Jin will drink down every bit of it.
The glass of very good and expensive wine in his hands just out of view of the camera lens, also gets drunk down, and very quick. Yoongi pauses to refill it once Jin's done, he drinks the second glass slower.
Hobi and Namjoon fill out their paperwork for emergency rut leave. Jimin doesn’t have to, already on emergency medical leave and cleared for his bodyguard job till the end of the month when spring will turn the ground lucid and heavy sweet. The winter won't be long now, although the cold pushes at the window and makes Yoongi put the thermostat up high just so that you can all lounge around in your pajamas and fuzzy socks.
Heat and rut leave, even though no one's in a rut or heat. You don't mind lying and abusing the system just this once. You just can’t think about leaving the house just yet. You need a few days to settle all of your instincts and remember that being alive- that surviving is a good thing. That surviving and being together is even better.
It feels like a good thing. It feels like this is the first deep breath you’ve taken in a long long while. Since long before Yoongi maybe- if you’re being honest.
You know you must be irritating your neighbors with the music- but it’s worth it when you get to sit on the counter and watch Yoongi and Hobi bicker over the playlist. Which song is better, which one has the better backtrack, the better lyrics, and the better vibe.
A big black block speaker sits on the kitchen island bumping and although Hoseok and Yoongi might be fighting, they're leaning further into each other with every over-exaggerated scoff like a pair of magnets. it might be midnight, it might be 4am, but no ones sleeping yet. you know too well what waits you when you close your eyes. The nightmares that will plauge all of you, so you keep them open.
It's kinda fun to watch them flirt, It's kinda your favorite thing to watch actually. sitting there on the counter sipping at your drink.
You stay close to Hobi just incase. He hasn't showed any sort of evidence of falling apart from seeing moonbyul yet, but you're ready and waiting if he needs you.
The long socks you wear have trouble staying up to your mid-thigh, thick and cozy, and falling down around your knee as you sit on the countertop, feet dangling and swinging as you look between Hobi and Yoongi. Jimin toys with them, pulling up and pulling down. Happy with the sensation of it. He's equally as entertained by the way that Yoongi and Hobi fight, half joking- half really not.
After the kind of fights you've had recently, you'll take it.
“Fuck you and your love for fucking tambourines- this song is not that good-” Your feet swish and Hobi bens in to peck your forehead and sneak a sip of your drink. You like them sweet and Jin's made each one extra sugary for you.
You don't know where Jin got the mini paper umbrellas from- but Hoseok has a red one tucked behind his ear and a green one in his drink, the same as your yellow one. They litter the kitchen counter along with the juiced rinds of lemons and limes and other mixers that the pack is chasing with their alcohol.
"Oh! Try it Tae, this is like- so you and so so pink" Tae tries your drink too, bending down to sip at it counter level and you watch Jimin swallow hard and fidget. he's so enthralled with the sight of her bending over and sucking that he misses her sneaky hand creeping around to his backside, pinching so hard he jumps.
Hoseok laughs and then does the same to Yoongi. "Oh my god what the fuck-" He's indignant, but Hoseok tugs him back to his side by his belt buckle.
Tae's eyes are nearly comically wide, she asks you what you're drinking, hand on your knee, fiddling with the ribbon on your socks. “I’ve never had a Miami vice before.”
Jimin’s growl is a near thing, a near purr, makes you giggle and tip into him, happy. “I’ll make you one babygirl.”
"Wait!" Tae snags Jimin around the waist before he sinks off to get her one, and even you can see the blush on his cheeks. It's a good sign, Jimin is recovering well from all the blood he lost.
"Help me sit on the counter first?"
Jimin had in fact, heaved you up there when you'd asked to sit, not that you couldn't get up there on your own- but the alpha’s like to do little things like that for you. Tae can definitely do it herself too but Jimin stoops to grip under her thighs, eye contact with her never ceasing, and almost drops her when she takes the chance to kiss him fully on the mouth and you giggle again.
Yoongi glances over at you, at the sound, and your giggle cuts off. cheeks the mirror of Jimin's.
The discomfort passes like it was never there, like he didn't look for the sound, like he's not keenly aware of just how many steps it would take to cross the room and kiss you firmly on the mouth. Yoongi's thinking all sorts of silly things like that.
It's not silly, it's not silly at all- Yoongi is just not quite sure how angry he is.
Yoongi’s all puffed up, swaying but somehow holding onto his whiskey. The counter digs into his hip where he leans and flips his hair like he doesn't know that Hobi's watching. Like Hobi's not biting his lip and staring. It's easier to look at Hobi than it is to look at you- easier to want Hobi than it is to want you right now. Easier to bicker and flirt than to actually initiate anything.
(Yoongi never did like sex or love when he's drunk, he's only ever loved love sober, drinking makes him- stumbly- less articulate than he likes, more rambly. Like his body and his mind are at two seperate tempo's and they won't mix).
“Like you’re any better with your fucking cowbell fixation. It does not add that much to a track."
“Hey! I am a millennial thank you very much, that was like such a meme when I was in high school- like people had shirts with that on it” 
their bickering is funny and it’s so much nicer than almost drowning, than fighting. Jimin’s stitches are still tender but you burrow into the front of his chest, hiding your face from view. Peeking over his shoulder to watch Yoongi and Hobi. 
Your mate tips his head, spits it almost vicious and slurry, “And I bet you had one of those fucking shirts, You and your fucking memes, just because a song has cowbell in it doesn't make it a good song-” 
Hoseok grins, teeth sharp looking and smelling so heady and rich that you tip your neck to the side, presenting your scent gland for Jimin and Tae to burrow into, between the two of them in a alpha sandwich. 
"You thinking about my shirt hyung? It's made of boyfriend material you know." 
Jin laughs from the couch in approval and tae groans but Yoongi's hand tangles with the front of Hoseok's shirt, black, generic. Pulling him closer so harshly that hoseok genuinely looks startled for a second. "I am thinking about your shirt- how it would look on my fucking floor." 
Jungkook swishes around his Miami vice from the couch, calling over to your little cuddle puddle, "Does anyone know what they're talking about?" 
Jin pipes up, almost undistinguishable from where he's pressed between Joonie and the couch cushion. "Are they angry at each other or trying to fuck?"
"Both?" 
"Both." 
You sigh at the same moment Tae nearly swoons, "Let them be."
"It's sort of hot to watch them argue," you agree.
“You and your fucking memes” Yoongi spits again, half a laugh, so in love that he purses his lips to keep from saying it and ruining the (admittedly fake) argument.
He pushes hoseok up agains the center island, lips colliding with his so sloppy and yet with so much love behind them that you see Hobi's knees go weak a little, watch your mates lips work in the way you are only too familiar with blushing and still peeking. As Hoseok's red hair mizes with Yoongi's black and Hoseok kisses back with just as much tension, finally snapping. Yoongi's hands on his hips. Kissing just to kiss. Pulling apart with a laugh because,
"Did you just fucking bite me?"
"And i'll do it again if you don't admit that my song is better than yours." They go back to kissing, and no one pays them heed.
Jimin’s scent swells sweeter and Tae touches the top of your head, long fingers threading through and long nails scratching gently behind your ears. 
"Feeling small pup?" She asks, all quiet and fond with it. Prepared to wisk you away upstairs or into the library room if you need a second of quiet, a second of less stimulation so settle you. you're a little quiet, a little less verbal- something she's come to expect from you in omegaspace.
You shake your head, words escaping you, eyes stuck on her fluffy sweater, the kind of mohair that leaves a pretty white halo, her shorts are more bloomers, ruffled at the hem and dove colored, the same color as your socks. Coordinating. Tae dressed you and she wanted couples outfits. Your hands fix on her sweater sleeves and you pet them once, twice, still shaking your head. 
"You sure?" Tae's lips quirk and you know that she doesn't believe you in the slightest. You press a kiss to her lips, slow soft, near reverent with how gentle you are with it. Her pupils dilate, and Jimin's' growl rumbles all the way to your fingertips.  
"M'okay, just a little sleepy but not like- sleepy sleepy yet." it is nearing 3 in the morning. Jimin's arms tighten around you protective and a little possessive, Tae's eyes go from your face to his. Apparently, she's learned a thing or two from Yoongi and Hobi because her tone is dripping with false displeasure.
“Stealing my pup from me Minnie?” She taunts, and you shiver at the sound of her voice, low, the most normal it’s sounded in days. You’d almost forgotten what it sounded like when Tae teased.
Jimin seems to have forgotten too, because he doesn't seem to understand that she's teasing, bullying you, nearly pushing you further into her with how quick he seeks to hand you over.  “Never.” He says softly, quietly. Like every syllable she says is treasured. It is. 
“Hey!” Jin flops over the edge of the couch. Jungkook and Namjoon near his feet. All but kissing up his thighs. Namjoon says something low and Jungkook giggles, almost tossing himself into the pack alpha’s shoulder. “Hey! If anyone is anyone’s pup, they’re- hic- mine!” 
Jin only manages to be serious for a second before he flinches, laughing and hiccuping again as Namjoon’s fingers dig into the meat of his heal. A carefully orchestrated reminder as the pack omega squirms and shrieks at the ticklish feeling. Swaying and almost toppling from the couch. You don’t think you’ve seen Jin look so young, act so young- in weeks. He ends up on the floor with Jungkook on top of him, blowing raspberries against his neck with a loud rippling noise. 
Your hands are healing slowly and Hobi’s bruises around his neck are beginning to yellow. The bruises on the back of Tae’s head have faded from painful to touch tender. You touch her there, oh so gently. Touching her hair as she touches yours, leaning into each other and giggling, touching, loving gently. Jimin watches blinking owlishly. Fingers flexing on the countertop.
Other wounds have faded that way too. Yoongi scoffs and turns to you. They've been lost in their own little world. Yoongi has his long hair in a top knot, his white teeshirt is so long it almost hides his shorts below. If basketball shorts could be coquettish- Yoongi would pull it off. The loose pieces of his hair fluff softly over his forehead as he huffs. 
“Okay. You can be the tiebreaker- which one’s better? This one or the song I showed earlier?”
Both of them look at you expectantly- watching and waiting, Tae curls a lock of your hair around her finger syrupy slow as you pause for a second. You turn to Yoongi already apologetic, “Okay- but Russian house music is like- kinda really really cool-” 
Your mate groans and all but smacks his head on the counter. “Oh come on!” Hoseok pumps his fist and almost hip-checks Yoongi across the kitchen. Your mate pouts, crossing his arms.
“Come on- epic high is a classic.” 
“Admit it hyung- she likes my playlist better than yours.”
At least Yoongi is sort of talking to you again. Sort of getting over it minute by minute. It’s hard. Namjoon watches you from where he's sprawled on the couch, holding a near-empty bottle of champagne by the neck while Jungkook and Jin wrestle on the floor, sort of making out, sort of scenting each other as they go. Jimin requests a song that Tae would like- and then Yoongi and Hoseok lean over Yoongi's phone to make her the perfect playlist. Happy to have something new and mundane to bicker over.
(Happy Pink Pup Time ▷ Play playlist?)
Morning is just cresting over the rooftops and the music is just turned down when Namjoon gets up from the couch, slowly, dizzy. You're perched on the counter in your pj's watching Jimin and Jungkook chase each other around the room. The need to scent and wrestle and get all your restless energy out near palpable.
Hoseok and Jungkook have a tiny paper drink umbrella tucked behind their ears, the same one that Jin stuck in your drinks so that you can keep track of whose drink is whose. He and Jungkook gang up on Jimin to stick one into his hair, the tiny little baby bun that Tae tied to match Yoongi.
You giggle as Jungkook gives up and just loops his arms around Jimin's neck, no technique to it and all body weight dragging the three of them to the floor. Sprawled next to the library room door, now open. Tae’s makeup collection spread out on the green shaggy carpet like the fallen petals of some red flowering tree. Nothing hidden in the room anymore, the lock will go unused forever. 
It changes from wrestling to tickling and then the three of them are getting up and surrounding Yoongi, a paper umbrella in their fingers, he takes it all with a huff and a surprisingly whiney, “guys.” 
You still when Namjoon walks over, the same way you'd still if a wild animal were approaching. He doesn't settle close, just stands next to you and pours himself the last melted bit of the drink in the blender. Pink and yellow swirling delicately. He makes a noise in his throat and looks at you like he hasn’t barely said a word to anyone in the whole last 24 hours, hasn’t barely said a word to you since you got off the phone with him and Moonbyul left the house. 
You sip at your drink, lips pursed around the straw and when you're done, Namjoon takes it from you and puts it on the counter. You think at first that he might be cutting you off but then he stares at the gauze around your hands.
"I should probably check these." You nod obedient, wordless, unsure what to say, you let him take your hands. 
Fingers prodding at the red skin, delicate but knitting itself together slowly. “How much do they hurt?” He asks. Eyes downturned, looking at them, not you. 
“Probably a two,” you rate, almost without thinking. His eyelashes still cling together from salt. Face glossy. You want to wash his face, blot across his cheeks gently the way that Jin does after you've been crying (something that you admittedly do a lot- the pack's resident crybaby). 
Namjoon sighs heavily, "So should I consider that a four or-" 
"No, this time I'm being honest." Namjoon stills, "It doesn't hurt when I touch stuff unless I'm not careful." Being honest about your hurts and pains has never been easy for you. But Namjoon has shown you time and time again that he's willing to take your hurts and fix them. You have no reason not to tell him the truth. 
Namjoon grips your palm, turning it over his hands again and again, looking down at your love line lifeline all tangled there before leveling you with a look that is neither angry nor resigned.
He holds your hand, “Do you notice?” He asks. You swallow, eyes itchy. 
“Notice what?” His finger presses to the center of your palm, the hollow there. 
“Still dry,” He says. 
You think of the mice. Of drowning. You don't pull your hand from  Namjoon's grasp, but you know he wouldn't Let you anyway. 
You think about the mice. Of dying. Of trying to stay dry despite the things that try to swallow you whole. Water is not gentle, water is hungry. The rain pitters against the dark glass and melts the snow outside. But you and Namjoon and the rest of the pack are dry and warm and safe in here. 
Your breath hitches, but you close your fingers around his hand and nod. Your heels hook around the back of his knees, pulling him closer to you. “Still dry.” You agree. 
Namjoon closes his eyes and breaks the tension and this distance between you. Letting you pull him between your thighs properly where you sit on the kitchen counter. Wrapping his arms around your shoulders to tug you to his chest, and breathing deep in the hollow of your throat. 
He pulls back just as abruptly. Hands resting on the counter on either side of your thighs. All up in your space and sour-smelling. It takes great effort for you not to turn away and keep his piercing eye contact. 
“Don’t do something like that again. Ever.” His jaw rolls and his scent spikes angry. But it's all temporary as you nose under his jaw to soothe him. Namjoon has every right to be angry with you for leaving, the same way Yoongi does. 
“Never. Promise.” You hold out your pinky and you mean it. 
Namjoon looks at you for a second, staring you down, waiting for you to look away. But then after a pregnant second, he loops his pinky through. 
~-~
Eventually, you get drunk enough to play dress up with Tae’s collection of designer clothes. You wake up sleepy and pupish, Namjoon and Jungkook guide you to the dressing room before youre really awake.
"Sorry to wake you, Tae just needed-" you make a sleepy soft noise, nuzzling into Namjoon's throat when they hand him off to you.
Instead of getting pulled into pajamas you get Tae and the dressing room, almost her whole collection of dresses taken out of their careful organization. piles and piles of clothes on the floor, and a silk scarf keeps her hair back from her face.
Gold eye patches on her under eyes that slide off when Jin tries to drag her in for a morning scent mark to soothe her. Tae's anxious, you can smell it on the air, distracting and sharp, you squirm and Namjoon sets you on the floor. "Sorry pup, Tae's just-"
Tae's cheeks were wet, frustrated holding a slip in her hands. sniffling softly. She'd looks at you a little guilty, looking down at you in the middle of her tornado and nearly burst into tears,
"I don't have anything to wear."
Hugging Tae is always so easy, easier when she needs your comfort. you're sleepy, but this is something you'd know how to do even in your sleep- loving her properly has always been so easy. Jimin stands silent and fidgety in between the hollow of her closet obviously having handed her dress after dress to try and soothe her.
"Jimin, give me that dress and that Crinolin."
"The blue one?"
"The one thats purple and pink, stat." You know better than to think this is just Tae having nothing to wear, this is dysphoria, the way it clings to her shoulders, makes her turn away from the mirrors. You straighten up and turn to your pack in the door each of them standing at attention.
"Namjoon, go downstairs and bring me up the case that's under Tae's makeup vanity, not next to it, the one under it. It's got her favorites." You turn to Hobi, "find Noodle, she needs a cat in her lap asap."
Tae sniffles, wiping her cheeks, grimacing but then admitting, "a cat would help."
They scatter. "What should I do?" Yoongi asks, rubbing the back of his neck with his hands.
You pause, hover. But Yoongi waits, willing to be ordered around. "you could make us a drink?"
Of course, you don't need to be drunk to play dress up on a good day, it's just that Tae needed a bit of liquid courage after Moonbyul's words, you expect that they've gotten under her skin a little more than she's let on. But if that's under her skin, you're happy to help her put something more fitting over it.
Skirts of tulle and beaded flowers and stars that glitter brighter than the whole sky. Fancy tambour embroidery that must be worth its weight in gold. Pulled gently, mother-of-pearl buttons get stuck in your hair. Expensive draping and diamond collars stitched high against scented throats. Velvet bows and metal boning are hidden by the softest silk.
It's fun to be a girl sometimes, most of the time. Especially when your alphas ask for you to twirl for them.   Which is how Namjoon ends up breaking the lamp by your couch by tripping over the floor-length bright pink dress that Tae’s put you in. fluffy tiers of it, bright and flamingo pink. Tae's feeling alot better now, after you'd done her makeup and let her swatch colors of lipstick up and down your arms. Let her choose your outfit and change you a dozen times to find the right dress for you.
You'd done the same with her, you'd put her in the red dress and blushed, and immediately asked her to change. And had pointedly not looked at the delicate daisy print bralette she wore under it, the white and yellow flowers that did everything for her skin.
You remember when that bralet was just hidden in her makeup room. Remember when she'd never worn it, too risky, too much of a confession to the nature of her soul underneath. When it had stayed just there- hidden in the library room, ready to be savored. Now- the yellow on the straps wears off white instead of lemony and you pull them up her shoulders, a kiss to the spot where it sits on her shoulders.
Hoseok sits on the edge of the couch- because all of them had tried and failed to fit on the pink tufted bench upstairs in the dressing room almost breaking it so you had to relocate back to the first floor. Hoseok buries his face in your hip, disappearing into the pink glittery fabric. Laughing and smiling up at you. "You should wear this all the time, you look like a fucking peony,"
"That would be like so impractical." Hobi's cheeks are dotted with kiss prints, "if you want to put makeup on me you better kiss it on" he'd teased, getting drunk quicker than the rest. his cheeks have several small kiss prints four from Tae and five from you.
All of you bear her touch, either by kisses on your cheeks, pink and mauve, or by the glitter that tae's demanded you all wear. You’ve giggled and dotted it across their cheeks to match. Tae has a lot of glitter to go through in her makeup collection, more than she ever logically will in her lifetime or even before they expire. It's okay to use them now.
She sits with Jin, the pack omega's arms full of swatches the same way yours were all those months ago, as Tae explains the merits of each and Jin chooses which glitter he wants on his cheeks. The reflects in this one that's green, not purple- or the pink one with extra little heart glittery bits- her favorite. Jin listens on an astute student, Jimin close at his hip, absorbing her words like they're gospel.
They are gospel. After spending the last few days debating survival strategies- debating glitters is so much better.
Jin lets Tae put his on (white, with extra chunky stars) while you put some on Namjoon's cheeks (champagne colored, almost translucent with how it blends into his skin) and Jimin’s fingers draw idle circles over Tae's back. Between the velvet ribbons that crisscross and tie her corset.
Tae's corset is a deep plumb, but the color of her silk dress fades to pink around her waist and then gauzy white on the floor. Her red toenails are only visible when she sways, "Minnie i'm ticklish there." Jimin just growls in response. Half a pur and half a plea.
Are the others thinking about it like you are? Thinking about Tae in a big white dress, a veil across her face? Are they thinking about how lovely she looks in white? Or how much they'd like to see her in a white dress for them? Just like you are?
Namjoon leans close, between your thighs too. All of them- all of your packmates sit in a line across the couch, ready to be glittered and made up because Tae had requested it. Doing all of their makeup. They'd been so willing, so loving about it. They'd even washed their faces and you'd gotten to clean the salt from Namjoon's cheeks just like you'd wanted. But now-
Now the 4th finger on your hand hums sensitive, Tae has glitter across her knuckles. You haven't thought about your wedding ring since you took it off, and haven't thought about marriage at all. Jimin well- Jimin will be Tae's mate- same way you're Yoongi's. But Tae's ring finger is empty, she doesn't wear a lot of jewelry but-
You don't think about your wedding alot, not at all really. Such a brief little bit of time that started easily the worst time in your life, but you remember the feeling of the dress, tight on your hips- how you couldn't move a full step without help.
Hoseok burrows into the fluff at your hip, really- it must have taken a mile or two of tulle to make a skirt so poofy. It sort of feels like you're wearing a cloud. With Tae's ribcage size and your chest- most of her dresses fit you comfortably. This one is probably the closest, and Tae chose it for you.
Tae chose it for you.
You sneak furtive glances over at Tae while you do Namjoon's makeup. Not much, just a bit of eyeliner and mascara for his sparse lashes. He looks up at you from the couch, eyeliner on one eye, almost masculine in the way it makes his eyes look sharper and dragon like. Concealer for the bags under his eyes.
"Your scent went a little sour then sweet, what were you thinking about?" You continue to put it on him, pat pat pat- quiet for a moment where you choose your words.
"I was thinking about my wedding dress."
Hoseok quiets where he's still burrowing into your hip, maybe more a little alpha-puppyish than you've seen him. You don't blame him, the stress of yesterday has you needing a bit of omegaspace yourself. Your back and shoulders all tense in the way that only ever relaxes when you're brought low and sweet by their care.
But not now- not tonight- maybe tomorrow you'll indulge in omegaspace. Tonight, none of you will sleep or be sensitive just in case something bad happens. Just in case Moonbyul's promises were too good to be true. It might be a good night (verging on morning) but none of you trust the quiet. The rain still pittering on outside. Creaking under the doors with cold damp fingers.
Namjoon's fingers dig warm into the spot under your thighs, the squishy bit of skin between your knees and your mid-thigh. Under the dress but firm, keeping you there in the moment and not sinking back through your memories. 
Hobi's eyes are shiny when they look up at you, pinching a bit of the pink tulle between his thumb and forefinger. "What was getting married like? What did you wear for your wedding dress?" Was it everything you dreamed of or could you want that dream again. Who would you want that with, could it be me?
(Hoseok won't have to wonder for long, although he will be disappointed, just a little)
"It was so- so not me- I'd much rather have worn something like this." The dress might be a monstrous concoction of tulle but it's still so cute- so much more- you than anything Geumjae ever put you in.
"Getting married was kinda a blur, alot of people, a lot of talking but- I have pictures of me in it somewhere, do you want to see?" Namjoon nuzzles into your waist, your sternum, and nearly your chest, but you let him. He answers in a purr before Hobi has a chance too. 
"No, I don't need to see, you look lovelier in this, I'm sure."
"I never thought a bit of whiskey would draw compliments out of you alpha," You tease, it's a bit of a change from how firm with you he was yesterday but you're not going to look gift horses in the mouth. Namjoon just shakes his head, rubbing his cheeks across your bodice more thoroughly, almost clumsy in his scenting.  
"I clearly haven't been doing my job if you think you need to get me drunk to compliment you- I'll happily do it again when we all get sober."
"Like that will ever happen again," Jin snorts, then ducks away from Namjoon's /////' We really shouldn't have that kind of mentality look. They can avoid their pack alpha and pack omega responsibilities and sensibilities for a few moments more. a few days more. 
Tae had decided you'd wear this, had picked it out from where it had hung towards the side and she'd even said please. Even if the skirt is so long that you nearly trip over it every time you take a step you'll wear it all night if that's what she wants. Walking is what heels and alphas are for anyway.
You don't look at Hoseok and Namjoon, you just look at Tae, thinking of your wedding. 'I'm gonna marry her one day.' You think.  
The whole pack bursts into laughter, and you realize that you've spoken out loud the same second that you trip, hands jerking to catch yourself on Namjoon's shoulders, regardless of the container of glitter that you hold in your hands. 
When you look Yoongi has more glitter covering him than a stripper would at Mardi Gras. More than they put on Edward Cullen in Twilight. Their laughter redoubles, and when Yoongi breathes out in a huff, his breath sparkles. 
"Jesus fucking Christ."  
Your cheeks are brighter than your skirt while Jin tries to clean off his thighs swatting the glitter onto the floor but everyone's laughing too hard to properly help. Yoongi repays their laughter by shaking his hair out over them much to their dismay.
Jungkook is hiccupping with how hard he's giggling, and you're all drunk and in love, and just- there is no harm in it, even as Yoongi sighs and Hobi teases, "You're like fucking Tinkerbell hyung." 
Tae doesn't do anything about your confession, doesn't do anything but laugh and tip her hip into yours, it's so much squishier, so much curvier than it once was. The hormones that have been doing her job in making her soft and supple. Curves that you can't help but feel a little bit later when she pushes you into the side of the couch, your dress and her dress mixing their colors.
"So, you wanna marry me huh?" She's so much taller than you, especially in the Versace pumps she put on. So tall and willowy it has you stammering. 
"Yeah," you say, a little breathless looking up at her. Gulping as she leans, pinning you there. "If Jimin will let me." 
Jimin hasn't seemed to notice that you're having any sort of conversation that should involve him at all, hasn't registered your words at all, too busy staring at Tae with an expression that can only be described as lovestruck, maybe utterly devoted. Your sentiment and want to marry her- hasn't struck him as strange at all. You guess you'll have to ask Yoongi first but when you turn, his cheeks are as pink as your dress. 
Jin lunges forward, miming the neck of a champagne bottle as a microphone, doing a silly voice. "Anything to report? any comment Yoongi- knowing that your mate wants to marry someone thats not you?" 
Yoongi huffs and it casts a new puff of glitter into the air, "she can marry whoever she wants. She's my mate but- if she wants to yeah-" His shoulders shiver, "we'll not anyone- obviously she's limited to the people in this room but-" 
Jin is giggling and so are you, rolling your eyes, "Obviously- not like I'd wanna marry anyone else than you guys-" Hoseok looks away and then back at you but it's a missed moment. Jimin tugs on the laces of Tae's corset and her slight intake of breath has you looking back up at her. 
“Did you have to do it so tight?” He asks, eyes on you. 
“That’s kinda the point of a corset alpha.”
And then- Hobi slaps the couch. A loud sound but a look says he's not angry, he's running his fingers through some of the glitters there, a little pile, uncovering the faint stain below. 
It's a blood splatter. Faded from where Jin poured a whole bottle of hydrogen peroxide over it, but it's faintly there still. Soaked through the fibers and the foam below probably. Maybe all the way to the base and the springs. 
They washed it as much as they could, but they still couldn't get it out all the way. The couch, like a few other things in the house like the curtains- will have to be dealt with and disposed of one day. It is a kind of evidence. There's probably enough DNA to pull from it to be worrisome. 
“Can we like- burn this fucking thing already?”
He’s progressed past normal drunk to not quite able to stand on his own, might fall over, drunk. The glass in his hand sloshing with every movement as he leans over the edge of the couch. Hobi’s already got some on his cheeks, bright yellow gold that crests the highpoint of his cheekbones and the inner corner of his eyes. It looks like sparks a bit- especially with his red hair. 
Jin grimaces, “It was like totally soaked with blood. I did the best I could." 
"No one's blaming you hyung-" 
"Yeah you did like such a good job. It's just- still kinda covered." Namjoon's always trying to ease Jin's discomfort, encourage him, and that's still true even drunk.
“It's probably still got Namjoon’s cum in it from his last rut too.” Half the pack cringes and scolds Jungkook, but he's recalcitrant. "What? It's probably got your cum on it too- we kinda ruined it before the whole murder thing just saying." 
Jungkook hasn’t been drunk in years, he has the lowest tolerance among the eight of you. He bounces giggly, jumping from packmate to packmate, looping his arms around your shoulders and leaning so much of his body weight that you almost topple over, just giggling. Yoongi huffs, a little endeared and a little worried that Jungkook will actually make you fall over.
Jungkook does this to you alot. He likes to overpower you sometimes- not that the hierarchy still needs settling Jungkook just likes to hassle you.
“Hey!” Namjoon chirps from the floor as Jin carefully sweeps up some of the glitter and a few shards from the lamp that Namjoon broke. He’s too drunk to be properly scandalized. 
Yoongi sits back against the cushions, drink in his hands swirling. Ice clinking. “Yeah, let’s burn it.”
And burn it you do. The alphas try to lift it all together and almost fall over themselves, barely moving it even an inch before Yoongi decides to cut it up with his power tools and carry it out piece by piece. It makes a fucking mess in the Living Room before you lug it out to the squishy backyard.
Piles of stuffing litter the living room floor like dust bunnies and noodle swats at them, playing.
Yoongi's got the kerosene and you've got the match and the whole thing goes up in seconds, much to Hoseok and Jungkook's whooping delight. Jin's bundled in a blanket, but even he grins at the flames and the bad memories that burn away with it.
Hobi almost throws his car keys into the fire too but doesn’t. Whooping and waving his arms as the flames climb higher and higher. Yoongi squirts more of the lighter fluid until Namjoon says "That's enough" because a trip to the burn unit isn't what any of you want tonight.
The eight of you stand around it and watch it burn and then when you go back upstairs, Seokjin drags the mattress from your old bedroom into the big room- just like you did during Namjoon’s rut. Jungkook’s reallocating all of the pack's nesting materials to make a fort on the ground floor. Yoongi gets up on a chair to measure out where the studs should be so that he can use nails to secure a sheet to the ceiling like a big circus tent.
“It’s a fort hyung! It doesn’t need to be structurally supportive.”
Yoongi just pecks at Jungkook's head from where he stands on one of the pack's dining room chairs, "Not gonna let the world fall down on top of you bunny."
Tae asks Hobi to play bubblegum pop and they’re just so happy to see her smiling and acting anything like herself that they acquiesce to even her most ridiculous requests.
Hoseok turns the music up loud and you all fucking dance. You and Tae twirl and bounce, your big long skirts heavy and all big. Stained with a bit of mud at the bottom of the backyard. Namjoon makes both of you twirl and snag around your waists as you spin past.
You and Tae hop up and down, screaming along to the lyrics so loud that when it quiets- your voices are rough and raw. Chests a bit lighter with each screamed lyric, something awful working its way out of you with every laugh, something necessary in it as you grip each other's arms and yell out your frustrations against the speaker.
And by then Jungkook asks to wear a dress too- and then you’re really all having fun.
Yoongi is wearing a pair of Tae’s fuzzy knee socks and is dancing slowly with Noodle who chirps in his arms- apparently recognizing that your mate is too soft and squishy at the edges to be worth the hissing. Hair mused from some very involved kissing that you know Hobi dragged him away for.
Noodle keeps his claws sheathed for now as Yoongi dances although he does look vaguely annoyed. Like he doesn’t want to enjoy Yoongi’s touch but does. Watching you and Tae show Jungkook how to walk in high heels with beady yellow eyes. Jungkook gets it quick, quicker than you did.
Tae just nips at his cheek, a little bitey and a lot drunk. Jin and Yoongi have run out of frozen fruit so the drinks are a little stiffer. You’ll probably run out of alcohol by morning.
Someone will offer to drive to the nearest liquor store which will immediately be met by shaken heads and refusals, just this once- you can have alcohol and food delivered. Leaving the house right now still feels too scary. Too nerve-wracking.
Why would you ever leave when you have everything you could ever need, everyone you’ll ever love right here in this room? Wearing glitter and dresses and matching pajamas worn at the edges from love and cuddles.
Namjoon is wearing your bottoms. The very first courting present he ever got you, pink with red hearts. They're a bit tight in the ass and more capris, but they fit him either way. You watch as Namjoon’s fingers toy underneath Seokjin’s hem, splaying and petting a little higher. High enough to show a bruise that you didn’t know existed that lies against Jin’s ribcage.
For now, you’re all safe, and Tae tugs Jungkook upstairs in the direction of your dressing room. “Come on kookie I’ve got the perfect thing.” You know she's not tired of playing dress up with just you- she's just happy to have another canvas.
Tae has 7 other canvases actually, once Jungkook gets in on the dress-up, Jimin follows like the puppy alpha he is, and then Hobi and your mate, Jin, and Namjoon because they want to know what you're shrieking about upstairs. And come up to find Yoongi sprawled out on the floor, a fluffy something stuck over his head kinda making him look like a lampshade.
"It's not my fault your waist is like- super tiny. My head's just big."
And that’s how everyone gets in on it. Dresses and fancy shirts, bedazzled belts strung low over Hobi’s hip, and a silk scarf tied around Namjoon’s neck in a big bow. Jin ends up in a silky shirt that actually makes your heart stop, a glittery broach at the collar that Jimin toys with and Jin lets him touch to his heart's content. Dancing and dancing and falling onto the nest that you’re all building so so sloppy. Earning your first real laugh you’ve let out in days.
“Joonie? Can you please- I’ve waited forever to get my ears pierced and you’re like a surgeon- and you just look it up on YouTube and do it,”
You slip on someone's spilled drink almost tumbling into Hobi who goes to snatch your waist but misses. Giddy and giggly, “I can do it! I pierced mine once in elementary school but they healed over!”
“I don’t know if drunk piercings are the best idea.” Jin says, at the same moment that Jungkook chirps, “I’ll do my belly button if you hold ice to it."
Namjoon is the one who ends up doing it, with his gloves and antiseptic and numbing cream. You check to make sure Tae’s are symmetrical and then Jimin’s because of course he wants to be matching with her, then Jungkook and Jin, because they can be giggly and ridiculous too.   They’ve got high-quality surgical steal and fancy earrings upstairs that Jimin bought Tae during his mad dash to get her all the girl things after she came out (you're still honestly going through all of it). You give Tae the hoops because you know they won’t tug and pull on her hair and Jimin these little studs with a star on them.
Namjoon does it with a kiss on her cheek and a tiny gauze pad with barely a drop of blood on it folded and thrown away. “Good baby girl, was I gentle enough?” he was, he always is gentle enough.
By the end of the night, you’ve got a secondary piercing, and Tae’s already dreaming about getting more. One at a time Namjoon says, the edge of a pack alpha command in his voice. 
~-~
You wake with a pounding headache and to mimosas and a mountain of pancakes that Hobi practically forces down your throat to keep off the worst of the hangover. Until you feel like you might be sick and the pack piles in around where you sit in the bathroom to keep you company through your nausea. A bit more panicky and serious and sober than you have been. 
They stroke your back and pile the big blue blanket around you to keep off the shivers. But you don’t vomit somehow, drinking the electrolyte drink that Yoongi practically shoves down your throat. Quieter now that he’s sober but still unable to watch you suffer. Hand on your chin making you drink. You fall asleep soon after that again, overly full.
You sleep for 12 hours, and wake to the sound of retching, but it's just Yoongi- in a similar position as you are. Apparently he Jin and Namjoon stayed up while the rest of the pack went back to bed and decided to play drinking games that have turned into a bad decision. he'll need a shower before long.
He's not the only one whose in a bad way. Hobi wakes from the nest room staring at the ceiling listless. Still wearing the fancy designer clothes that Tae put him in under one of his hoodies. and you know without having to ask that he's thinking about her, about Moonbyul. 
But getting over this is going to be a work in progress. Everyone is good one moment and then bad the next, only to be good in an hour, laughing like you were never crying. 
Hobi doesn’t want to move, staring blankly at the ceiling Noodle purring against his hip and kneading him, putting holes in his pants. He can’t move from the nest fort in the living room, half open like a clamshell curled away from the entryway. Can't move until Jungkook gets you and you come close and he finally tears his eyes from the ceiling to look at you. You don't have to say a word to him you just guide him into a sitting position and let him rest his face against the crook of your neck. 
You help him take off his sweatshirt and when he nods that he's  ready, guide him up to the upstairs bathroom where tae is already showering off the scent of fire and glitter. You helped her take off her corset just the same, tugging at the ribbon until it fell loose because Jimin complained that he didn't know how to take it off without hurting the dress.
You strip all of them- Hobi and Yoongi and tae, and get them side by side in the bathtub. A firm layer of foam on the top from Jungkook's favorite purple bubble bath, and have a go at grooming them with Jin and Jungkook. Every inch of your alphas is inspected and tested with teeth and purrs. Hoseok closes his eyes to listen to the sound of them, just after Jungkook man handles the rest of the pack into the deep tub that Yoongi installed for this specific purpose.
Jin's purr is deep, yours is musical almost, and Jungkook's is really similar to noodles. He feels a hand on his cheek and knows without opening his eyes that it's yours rubbing away the wetness there. 
"Not crying cuz I'm sad just-"  he doesn't have to explain, doesn't have to do anything but close his eyes and let you make it better. If hurts could come out in the wash- you'd be able to get them out. You of all people know how hard it is for him to feel clean, the grubbiness of bad memories and old hurts that stains his bones.
And yet, you still wash him.
You rub a cloth over his shoulders, the tense part of his neck, his spine all gentle. Again and again until he starts to squirm- nothing about the touch, nothing about the grooming selfish. You ask him if he's done and he says not yet so you keep going until the waters gone cold and everyone else has gotten out of the tub.
Namjoon forces about a gallon of water down yoongi's throat, but the worst of the vomiting seems to be over. yoongi sleeps too- out of sync.
Love feels so tight in his chest that Hoseok can't open his eyes. He falls asleep there until Jin starts to tug at him, and when he opens them, he finds that you're in one of Tae's slip dresses- the kind that she likes to sleep in, translucent and soap sudsy at the hem where you got wet washing him.
His voice is croaky but he asks, "Have you eaten?" The answer, of course, is no. But he remedies it easily for you once he's dressed and scented sweet. An eye for an eye, a hurt for a hurt, and a heart for a heart. 
You order a new couch somewhere on the third day, blue this time instead of grey- to match the tile backsplash in the kitchen. With fabric that’s comfier this time and actually designed to be turned into a nesting nook when you need it. 
Yoongi puts it together sober and then takes it apart just to put it back together again- claiming that one of the legs is squeaky and the middle edge isn't flush. He's feeling better, less hungover and less angry. Happy to have something for his hands to do.
He still doesn’t talk to you more than a few words but he does ask “Hold the flashlight for me?” While Tae is upstairs putting away her torn-apart dressing room with Hobi and Jungkook. 
And you do help your mate- standing in your matching pj’s with clean hair and clean minds for the first time in days. Thoughts unclouded by terror or anger or alcohol. 
You hold his phone while he tamps down on the leg screws. the sound of the others laughing upstairs, both of you quietly accept for the clink click of the socket wrench. You hold the flashlight, hold it even when Yoongi drops his hands, not looking at you, squatting. It's quiet, Noodle sleeps in a puddle of mid-afternoon sunlight by the front door but it's morning for you- all of you slept till noon. 
“I need a moment okay just- give me a second, give me a few days.” You gulp and look at him. But it's as much as Jin has said to you too. As much as any of them have warned. “Give him time pup, he’ll come around.”
“Let me know when you want the next screw.” He turns around, still kneeling before you, hand on your ankle. Circling it slowly and simply. Petting over the ball of your bone and your Achilles tendon. Looking up at you and not saying a thing until you speak.
“You know I’m sorry for it right? That I regret it right?”
“Yeah,” he says, lips downturned “I know. Wish it hurt less that way.”
“If there was something I could do- something that would make it better- you’d tell me right?”
Yoongi pauses, his lips part for a split second and then go closed, and this time his cheeks go pink. But he sounds stronger when he says,
“Yeah, I’d tell you.”
~-~
But it does hurt less this way. All of your secrets and all your shortcomings are out in the open. Day drinking is either a fantastic idea or a terrible one depending on how you look at it. Because for the first time ever you all talk about it instead of keeping it bottled up.
The eight of you are piled into the kitchen, a second food order sits on the fringes in brown paper bags that Hobi doodles on idly with a sharpie, drawing bunnies and noodle and diamond rings and flowers- endless daisies. and then moves to doodling on Yoongi's jeans. Five days in and still completely unwilling to leave the house- still too scary, too many unknowns that linger just outside your door.
The 7 of them sit stretched between the cabinets while you bounce around above them mindful of not tripping on their sprawled legs, cooking up your tiramisu because Hobi had bragged about it and now they all want a taste.
You spin and turn, ducking and dodging needy hands. Jimin leans forward to sneak a quick peck against your knee when you’re mixing some of the egg whites. Jin gets up eventually to help, disliking the way that you teeter too pupish without a reassuring touch and your favorite baking companion at your elbow. Jin ties his apron around your neck and says. “Tell me what to do” Cooking with him is the most normal thing you’ve done in months. You have enough energy for it once.
“You’re making like a double batch, right?” You’re drinking less, all a little less intoxicated, you’d woken up this morning with a headache that faded and now you don’t want to drink anymore, done for the week and maybe the month. Maybe your whole lifetime after almost vomiting- was that yesterday? Or the day before?
“Hyung when I tell you you’re gonna wanna have the whole tray it’s like- so fucking good-”
“You talk a big game Hobi.” Jungkook looks like he wants to be a part of Hobi's big game. Scent swelling sultry and sweet.
There has been surprisingly less sex than you thought there would be although you know that Tae dragged Jimin upstairs late last night for a bit of privacy. It’s nothing like Namjoon’s rut. Without the alcohol, the pack is getting touchier. It’s strange- you almost would have expected them to want more while drinking but it didn’t happen that way.
Now Namjoon’s hand skims your hip whenever you walk past. Stepping over his thick thighs, squishy where they're pulled together to give Yoongi enough room. His hand comes up to toy with the edge of your shirt, A casual yet claiming touch that you pay no mind. Pinching the chub there and murmuring a quiet "fuck."
You raise your eyebrow at him, a bit self-conscious but still willing to let him do what he wants, "having fun Joonie?" You taunt. He leans forward, nose nudging under your shirt, dragging his teeth over the small swell of your stomach in reply. It's nothing new (well you being a bit chubbier is- but you're learning to live with it).
the mood is light until Jin asks you how you did it, how you killed the don and his beta. 
Your recipe book is open in front of him- and that has to be part of the reason why it comes to him. It’s not a secret anymore. Yoongi doesn’t look bothered as the pack quiets down and you tell them everything.
How Moonbyul convinced you to help her do it, how you actually killed them, how she disposed of the evidence. All of it. Jungkook's fingers come up to skim over the scars on your back and you catch his hand gently, taking it away from them because you don't want him to touch them now. 
It's the first time you've addressed the elephant in the room in 5 days and it feels- 
It feels good to talk about it. To get it off your chest. 
You've always told yourself that you had to kill them, it was either them or you, and they were bad people anyway. Who knows how many innocents had fallen under their hands- certainly more than have fallen under Moonbyuls. 
You did what you had to do to survive and there was no way out. But part of you has always wondered if that was true. 
The pack makes you feel like it is the truth. That killing to survive was all you could do. 
But it’s Hobi who bends forward along with Jin, “hang on hang on- fucking cupcakes? You poisoned the head of the fucking mafia using fucking cupcakes?” 
You blush, and Namjoon drags his finger through some of the whipped cream you’ve already made for the tiramisu. You gave him the bowl after you were done with it and he lifts it up to lick at the bottom, practically putting his face in the metal bowl. Jungkook licks the spoon and Tae tries not to watch his lips pucker. He fidgets, Thigh-shimming where he squirms tucked into Hobi's side. 
Jin's hand on his chin guides the alpha to look up, checking to make sure that he's alright. You don't have to wonder why because last night- Hoseok woke up from nightmares again. 
It was just like your nightmares. One moment you'd been nuzzling into him in sleep, and the next moment his hands had been shaking pushing you off of him. Smelling angry- his caramel scent going burnt and off the more he woke, you'd stayed up with him and piled blankets into the bathtub until he'd fallen back asleep again. Yoongi waited on the fringes with water until Hoseok had fallen asleep fitful- but asleep. 
He'd woken up without an appetite, but when you'd asked him he'd said the only thing he might be able to eat was your tiramisu, so here you are. Nightmares are easy to deal with, Hoseok's nightmares are something you can handle. 
“I bet they were fucking delicious.” 
“Thank you Joonie, they were.” 
Jin and Jimin are staring at you open-mouthed. But there are more questions- clarifications that everyone needs to ask. It feels good to finally talk about this freely. 
“Wait wait wait let me get this straight- Jin’s been working for the FBI for how many years?” 
“Only 6” Jin says at the same time Yoongi says, “6 and ½” and they shoot each other looks before Jin nods, and agrees. Eyes still on Yoongi. Jin and Yoongi are looking at each other with more love than is necessary. And Yoongi answers everyone’s unsure glances.
“I knew from the beginning and it didn’t matter.” Jimin bristles like it should certainly matter but Yoongi squeezes his good shoulder. “It doesn’t matter anymore.” Yoongi furrows his eyes, looking at Jimin's shoulder, and asks Namjoon if Jimin's stitches are ready to come out. 
They are, so Namjoon gets his medical bad and Jimin takes off his shirt. A pair of forceps and medical scissors in his hands as he snips through Jimin’s stitches and carefully pulls them out one by one, wearing sterile rubber gloves but pausing to let Jin feed him more spoonfuls of whipped cream. 
“Yeah,” Jin says, contemplating. “It doesn’t matter. They were so like bureaucratic anyway." 
"You're not gonna miss it?" Jungkook asks, and Jin shakes his head.
"It's not worth it, I'll find something else to do, I've got like a stellar recommendation from them anyway." 
It’s not just that secret that you talk through; you also talk through jimin and yours. nothing hidden anymore. No reason to hide it.
“Of course, I recognized you Minnie- I met you before I met anyone else- Before I even met you Yoongi.” Now that- Yoongi really doesn’t understand. But Jimin is already explaining before he has a chance to ask. And by the end of it- Yoongi wants to drive hoseok's car into the wall, trembling with how angry he is at past you for being so stupid.
“A fucking bar? You met Jimin at a fucking bar and you didn’t even try and hide the fact that you wanted to kill my brother?”
“Well I wanted to hire an assassin and he was there so-“ 
“Of course, she was gonna hire an assassin hyung, her ex-husband was like a total dick- like even more of a dick than Moonbutt or whatever her name is.”
“Moonbitch Kookie.” 
You skim your fingers through Hobi’s hair, checking to see if he’s alright and he nods, catching your hand and pressing a fleeting kiss there. You need your hands to bake but Hoseok holds onto them a moment longer than is necessary.
“God that's so dumb” Jin slaps Namjoon's arm and he realizes what he just said, his shoulders curling in, “wait you are not dumb and I am just stressed because I’ve never made ladyfingers before- please don’t think I actually meant that-” 
Namjoon rolls his eyes, he’s well aquatinted to how punchy Jin can get when he's tired. That’s nothing new. Jungkook spills across Yoongi’s thighs in mock misery, but he doesn’t react beyond skimming a hand up Jungkook’s back, first over his tee shirt and then under it. 
Yoongi turns to you, where you hold a piping bag filled with creamy batter, taking even deep breaths as you pipe out the first few ladyfingers, showing Jin how to do it without getting bubbles in most of them. “You knew didn’t you?” He’s not accusatory. Just surprised. “That it was dangerous, you knew you could die and you did it anyway.”
You nod without pause, “I’d done more dangerous things by then, It was only a matter of time before someone figured out I’d killed the don and I wanted to make sure I got to see him die before they got to me.” 
Yoongi takes a sip of his glass, angry at you for making poor decisions back before he even knew you. Angry even though his anger has nowhere to go that's good. 
“You have to be more careful.” 
“All of us have to be more careful,” Hobi replies he doesn’t like the reproach in Yoongi’s voice. Doesn’t like the way he’s been talking to you. But all the anger and all the pain is healing (it's all just love with nowhere to go. All you have to do is give it time.)
The wounds on your hands are closing slowly- healed enough already that it doesn’t hurt when you hand over the piping bag to give Jin a chance to try. You've done the first 12 ladyfingers and he does the next two dozen to get the hang of it. When Tae asks, you show her how to pipe out a little heart, and then JK wants to make a dick-shaped one and you let him. He gets more of the batter on his sleeve, but you made extra just in case something like this happened. 
Jungkook sits up abruptly, wide bunny eyes dark and glassy upturned at you, glancing between you and Jimin, “What did- what does killing feel like?”
“Oh my god Jk you can’t just ask that.” 
“No, he can ask I just-“ Jimin swallows, and puts his hand down. He's holding a piece of gauze where Namjoon puts the small cut pieces of the suture. Tinged pink from a little bit of blood. His chest shines in the half-light, the little bit of antiseptic glimmering around the freshly pulled stitches on his shoulder catching the light. Jimin’s face twists in pain, but you know it’s not his incision that’s bothering him. Namjoon's gentle as he pulls the last one.
“I don’t want you to think less of me.” 
Everyone’s silent, no one rushes to reassure him, because the truth is that you don’t know. You put your hand over his squeezing- the best that you can offer. Jungkook pushes on, undeterred, “Tell us about the first time.”
“The first time was an accident- it was- before you guys just before Tae went to school- right when she started and I wasn’t thinking. Someone rushed at one of my private clients and I just-“ Jimin's eyes go dark and he picks at one of the stures until Namjoon pushes his hands away.
"You did what you were hired to do," Namjoon asks, and Jimin nods. You and Jin finish the tiramisu and Yoongi reaches out a hand to help you sit with the two big trays of it, portioning them out onto the plates.
"I protected them at a cost." Jimin stares down at his plate, the perfect square on it. and you nudge it until he eats it.   “That music executive” Tae blurts, eyes shining, connecting the dots “you were really quiet after you came back but then you got buys, I just thought-” She goes quiet when you feed her the first bite, letting out a surprised but appreciative hum, distracted by how good it tastes, "This is really good."   Yoongi huffs, rueful in his understanding. “All they really need is one kill on you and they’ve got you for good.” But that's all in the past now, Jimin is never going to have to kill someone again, even if he did get paid for it.
He lifts a fork to his mouth, pulling back after a second and furrowing his eyebrows. licking the cream from his lips slowly, eyes narrowing.
"Okay now I'm really angry, how have you never made this for me?"
"You never asked Yoongi."
"We'll I'm asking now, I can't believe you kept this from me for so long. Can you make it on my birthday?" You blush, bright red, and Jungkook leans over to press his nose into your flushed cheek.
Jimin answers Jungkook's question after a few bites. “It didn’t bother me, after a while it didn’t bother me at all" Jimin turns to Jin, eyes shining with unshed tears, "hyung, does that make me crazy? Does that make me a psychopath?”
Jin swallows softly around his bite of tiramisu, it really is quite good, top 5- if not top 3 on his list of favorite desserts you've made. “I’m not sure. There is an assessment as a part of the DSM-5. I could test you if you want. Although I’m not sure I could be totally impartial.”
Jimin looks winded, desperate from the line of hope that Jin dangles in front of him, a chance at salvation. Jimin has always wanted to know- in that same twisted way he’s always wondered if he and Tae were going to go to the same place when they died- if he was honest to god crazy. Jimin’s always wanted to know what makes him so different than other people. always looked for a reason and now jin might give him one.
“What do you mean by impartial?”
Jin sets down his fork. “Jimin, do you think any of us wouldn’t do what we had to do to survive I mean- Tae and Y/n killed someone over there 6 days ago. Do you think that makes them psychopaths? Do you think that makes them damned?”
Jimin’s chest heaves and he can’t answer Jin, But after a second, Jimin asks again, “You’ll assess me then?” Tae's fingers rub mindless patterns over the back of Jimin’s hand, her knuckles are still bruised.
“The next day we’re both alone in the house.” He grimaces, “It’s the least I could do after shooting you.”
Jimin whines, mood lightening. “Come on, you know I don’t take it personally.”
At the end of the day, the fact that Jimin’s a killer hurts less than you might think, although their pack has their own questions about it, Tae too, although her questions are limited, Jimin answers each of them truthfully and honestly. He'd never think of lying to her about this, not anymore, not again.
When it comes down to it there is a lot you’re willing to justify when it comes to the people you love and the people you choose. You’re all killers and liars and secret keepers. No true sinner and no true saint between the eight of you. It’s a good thing that you have more than enough love to go around.
Enough for a lifetime you think. You’ll have to wait and see.
“You realize everything you’ve said is insane right” Namjoon’s not angry, just tired and full as he sprawls out. Uncaring of everything that’s been said, unthreatened. “Like- actual mafia movie insane right? Are your names even your real name?”
Yoongi can’t keep in his snort. “Of course? What kind of question is that?”
You give them a look, “Actually…” The uproar is immediate, and everyone shouts their indignance and disbelief. All but roaring in shock, your laugh rings high and loud.
“Kidding! Just trying to lighten the mood!” Jin playfully drags you over his lap, swatting your ass playfully in punishment. Your laughing only gets louder. He leaves a coco-colored hand print on your white shorts.
Tae’s in more of a joking mood now, “am I allowed to use this for my next storyline?”
“Yes” and “Definitely not!” are mutual cries.
Maybe you don’t need to know everything about the person you love. Maybe love is just understanding someone’s secrets and loving them anyway. Maybe the biggest lie that Namjoon can tell himself- to preserve their family that they’ve forged through fire and fucking blood is that Jimin only ever had to kill when he needed to. He parts his thighs after he throws away his gloves- not even bloody, and Jimin slides in between them relieved.
His back resting against Namjoon’s chest, a happy growl grumble slipping out as he tests his hands, and Namjoon tests how far Jimin’s fingers can bend. “Pt starts tomorrow” Namjoon intones, a warning in his voice. Jimin nods, perfectly obedient.
“The rest of our lives start tomorrow too.” No one disagrees.
Jungkook is giggly and sits between Yoongi’s thighs, whipped cream on his cheek, they’ve already finished the first tray of tiramisu that you’d made and are making a serious dent in the second one. Cooking for them fills you with that same warm feeling as it always does. Cooking is a love language. food too. Your stomach is full of it.
“Hang on hang on- let me get this straight-“ Jungkook ticks them off one by one on his fingers. “Jin’s an FBI agent. Jimin’s an assassin. And you almost were one too?”
You roll your eyes, but nod anyway. It's truth enough- it's pretty obvious to you that's what Moonbyul and Hyejin had to slated for (privately Jimin wonders what your moniker might have been. Would you have been the flower to his snake? The dove to Hyejin's bumblebee?)
Jungkook points his finger at Hoseok next to you, the two of you share a fork and a plate smudged with chocolate and whipped cream. Namjoon has completely given up on portioning out his onto a plate and goes at the tray with Jin, a fork between the two of them.
“Hobi’s exes are the current head of a fucking crime family- and Yoongi’s like the heir to some fucked up advice column throne thing- that I still don't quite understand but- Has everyone been keeping something from each other this whole damn time?”
“Does mine even count? It’s not like I knew my ex was like- a fucking mafioso or whatever-”
“I mean- I kept the secret that I was a girl for like- my whole fucking life so I feel like everyone else gets a pass.”
Jimin combs a hand through Tae’s hair, looking down at her and rubbing away a smudge of tiramisu with his thumb. And you hit Namjoon’s knees with your socked feet. Your socks have strawberries on them and a hole at the toe. “You definitely get a pass baby girl.”
“What about you Joonie? Any secrets up your sleeve?”
Your pack alpha shrugs. Eyebrow's furrowing as he thinks hard about it. “I think the only secret I’ve ever kept from you guys was throwing out the lease that one time-“
“Oh my god I completely forgot about that-”   “Yeah, Jin hyung was so so mad. Almost as mad as Yoongi is.”
Your mate spills his plate with you quick he leans over to pinch Hobi’s scent gland. “Hey, I’m working on it!” 
His last bite slips off his plate and plops onto the ground. Noodle darts forward, trying to get to it before you snatch him back. Unfortunately, no one thinks to do the same with Jungkook.
The hardwood floors have seen worse things in recent days than some whipped cream and everyone lets out belated 'No!' and Gross Jk' as Jungkook leans over to lick it up. You laugh as Hobi snatches Yoongi’s plate and holds it over his head, almost dropping it on himself with how Yoongi lunges. And Jin holds his plate of tiramisu out of reach of their roughhousing.
You rest your head on Tae’s shoulder and watch your pack bicker and then shoot it out for the last slice of tiramisu. Yoongi wins and licks the tray clean, getting a tiny spot of cream on his nose that Jin kisses off. She laces your hand with hers.
Both of you have lipstick swatches from yesterday still on the back of your palms, the faint imprint of the colors of your kisses that her fingers trace idly, gently. The memory there for now but not for long.   “What about you Kookie? Any secrets tucked up against your sleeve?”
Jungkook presses a finger to his lips, almost coquettish with how wide his eyes go. “What hyung? Me?”   Yoongi leans into his space, wrapping his arms around his knees. “Yeah, seems like everyone’s got a secret but you.”   “Hyung, you know if I’ve got a secret- it’s one I’ll never tell.”
~-~
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Notes:
Trying my hardest <3 I'm admittedly having a tough time right now, this chapter felt very nice to write because it's all about the beginning of the packs happy ending <3
i personally think they should have all fucked on the floor in tae's dresses, but thats just my personal thoughts about it all. this is one of the few times that i have pictures in my head of the dresses that tae and the m/c wear but i cannot find pictures online that match for the life of me!!!
The moonbitch moment made it into the chapter- idk who it was that commented that but 😂 i lowkey loved it so it made it in <3
What i've been trying to get at with most of the yoongi/m/c healing arc in this chapter is that they both need to be fully actualized and fully realized players in their relationship. yoongi does not and has not told her his wants and needs very often in the story- and that changes after this chapter- because in the moment they're putting together the sofa he realizes 'oh i actually can tell her what i need' it's important to note that the mc has healed to this point like- earlier in the story she might have taken any request from yoongi as criticism.
idk if anyone saw where i was talking about the eventual like 50 year end for the story like- where i think they all end up. but knowing that tae, hobi, and the m/c are the last packmates left alive into their 80's makes the conversation about the m/c marrying tae and not hobi all the more like...ah, sad maybe? i originally planned for tae and the m/c to be the last alive but maybe it should be the m/c and hobi- do you think they'd get married after tae died?
i love that tae and the m/c fit the tall and short lesbian niche that i am so so into like- i know i went on a bit about them but they are very in love and their love story has been some of my favorite in this book. i felt like this chapter needed a bit of glitter.
idk if i mentioned tae having her ears pierced before- but just pretend that i haven't!
i added the part with the m/c washing hobi at the last minute but let me tell you that part did almost make me cry so...
i ended up having to cut the after part of this chapter, but i kinda like it better that way because then yoongi doesn't forgive her right away. idk, that was the main part i wanted to work on for this chapter so its kinda good that i get to wait a little bit.
i've been...admitedly, dangerously depressed for the last two weeks, and i think working on this chapter made me realize that working on bily, writing stuff, is legitimately the only time i am happy and one of like 3 things that makes me feel okay, i hope it makes you feel okay too <3
Until next time!
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iamasaddie · 1 day
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paring: Joel Miller x f!reader rating: explicit warnings: explicit sexual content, unspecified age gap, reader has hair that you can run your fingers through, no use of Y/N, UNEDITED a/n: fully inspired by this post @bonezone44 dared to put out so i thank them for basically punching me out of the no-writing period of my life <3 and also thank you to people who've been tagging me in multiple wip challenges and fic games, especially @milla-frenchy and @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog <3 you reminded me that i was indeed an author a million years ago word count: 2.6k masterlist
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Joel was tired. His back was hurting from helping Tommy fix up his roof, his knees were aching from climbing up and down that goddamn ladder that he could swore was ready to break at any second. He couldn’t remember the last time he had a night where he could just relax. Throw his body somewhere in his house and have someone take care of it. 
Now that Ellie was building her adult life with Dina, their place - his place - now felt like just a roof over his head, all the homeyness gone with the girl that almost single-handedly owned his sharp and rusty heart.  
Joel squeezed his eyes shut, dry fingertips running over the lids. He did not want to go home and fall asleep on the couch, cursing everything the world stands on the next morning when he needs to fight the tears of pain with every back spasm he gets. No, he needed someone to take care of him, to give him something good, god knows he’s given these people more than enough over these past years. But, Joel sighed to himself, scrunching his nose as his eyes fell on the dirty knees of his jeans, he was not in shape of wining and dining women tonight. 
That’s what you need casual connections for, old idiot, he chuckled to himself, remembering a few times he had to spell it out for some ladies that he wasn’t interested.
You practically jumped on a stool next to him while he was still considering his options.
“Hey, Joel, long night?” 
Of course you’d be the first to ask about his day. Little miss sunshine. Well, at least that’s what he thought at first, before seeing you mercilessly killing a couple of infected villagers that weren’t careful enough on the patrol. Still, you were as syrupy sweet as honey on a fresh batch of pancakes when it came to him. The only one who didn’t cringe when he said his firm “no, thanks”. The only one who didn’t actually take his no for an answer.
You never actually threw yourself at him, but Joel learned what desire looks like and you were too young to learn how to mask it properly. 
“Hey, kid.” He nodded, he knew how much you hated the nickname because it put even a bigger barrier between the two of you.
“Told you not to call me that, I’m only—“
“Twenty something years younger than me? Yeah.”
He saw your lips hiding in a thin line, your unbreakable spirit was too fragile when it came to him. Joel must’ve gone soft, or insane, because he nudged your shoulder with his, making you lift your head up and look him in the eyes.
“Tommy’s roof’s been a pain in the ass to fix. It’d be easier to burn that place down and build a new one, but my brother is as stubborn as them mules he’s been dreaming to have.”
You huffed a laugh, palm squeezing the slippery glass that was now empty a little too hard. “You know,” you started, shyness verging with hope that you tried to sheath with a nonchalant tone. Joel knew. And for the first time in years he actually contemplated, nodding to you to continue. “I could help you relax, I sometimes give massages in the hospital. It can really help with back pain.”
He purposefully kept silent, looking you in the eyes and trying to make you go back on your proposal. But as he knew already, you were no less stubborn than his little brother. It was karma or something that the only people that were semi-constant in his life were the ones who’d rather kiss an infected than give up. 
Joel wasn’t exactly tortured with his conscience, he didn’t seduce you, and most of the old world morals have died already, so the age gap the size of an adult child didn’t bother him either. He was almost glad you tried again, he just needs to make sure you know it’s not something it isn’t. 
“Yeah, my back’s been hurtin’ pretty bad today.” He finished his drink not tearing his eyes off you, and then he slowly let them trace your lips, the naked expanse of your neck that you showed off by unbuttoning a couple of buttons on your shirt. He looked lower, noticing your breasts rise and fall faster under his unmasked gaze. 
“Wanna go now?” Your voice was breathless like you’d just ran a marathon. He wondered how you’d sound later tonight. 
“Sure, darlin’. Lead the way.”
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You never said anything when Joel strode past the hospital shack, not even slowing his pace. He was saying something about the roof again but it was hard to understand through the blood pumping jungle beats in your ears. 
You kept nodding and humming in agreement, though you couldn’t quite process the words. As you followed him, the anticipation gnawed at you, every step closer tightening the knot in your stomach. You knew he was taking you home, well, he was taking you to his house, and you went too slow for the amount of times that you dreamed to step over his doorstep. Joel's house was small and dimly lit, for some reason it was exactly how you imagined it: homey in spite of the circumstances. Joel took off his jacket silently, the faint smell of cedar and something musky filled the air, mingling with his earthy scent. He turned to face you, those piercing eyes locking onto yours.
“You gonna give me a massage wearing this?” He pointed at the warm coat you put on in a hurry as you were leaving the bar. Your fingers stumbled over each other as you tried to open the buttons of the damn thing. You felt a flush of warmth rise to your cheeks under his scrutiny.
Your fingers touched as you gave him your coat, but there was no electricity, his fingers were rough and scratched your skin, your palm became sweaty and you hurried to wipe it on your jeans when he didn’t look.
“Let’s go, bedroom’s upstairs,” his voice was low and calm, somehow its vibrations helped you settle, grounded you. You gave him a quick smile and followed his broad figure. Every stair squeaked under his heavy footsteps, you looked like a mouse that was chasing a bear. Willingly. The bedroom door creaked open to reveal a space just as humble as the rest of the house. A couple of drawings in handmade frames, a chair with a pair of pants on it, and the bed. Your eyes were glued to it. The bed and its tangled sheets seemed inviting, though a wave of nerves prickled your spine. ‘You’re here to give him a massage, don’t get ahead of yourself’ you thought, teeth sinking in your lower lip. You weren’t too young or naive to think that a massage was all this night would end with, but such a quick change of heart in Joel made you doubt your every breath. 
When you brought your eyes back to the man you saw him studying you, you could swear a nervous tick clenched his jaw but you didn’t let yourself ponder on it.
“I’m gonna rip the bandaid off and say it as it is, okay, pretty girl?”
Your breath hitched. Joel stepped closer, his eyes steadily holding yours. You nodded, not trusting your voice. His gaze was intense, making your heart hammer loudly enough to be heard.
"Massage ain’t exactly the thing I took ya here for,” Joel admitted, eyes dark, voice raw with honesty. “If you catch my drift.”
“I…” You cleared your throat, you wanted to look confident, or at least not scared. You’ve wanted to get into this man’s bed for months now, imagined how and when and what, and now that it happens you can barely squeeze out a, “yeah, of course I do.”
Joel smiled, one of his hands flying to cup your jaw as he brought his lips closer to yours and you closed your eyes in anticipation of his soft skin on yours. “Good girl,” the remnants of his wet breath stained your lips.
As quickly as he came at you, he left. His pace was languid when he worked on taking off his jeans, leaving himself in a ridiculous attire of a flannel shirt, a t-shirt underneath and simple cotton boxers.
You bit your lip, suppressing a giggle at the sight. His eyes snagged on your smile, sharpening with mischief. Joel raised an eyebrow, catching your amusement. “What’s so funny, darlin’?”
“Nothing,” your cheeks felt extra hot and you were glad for the poor lighting in the bedroom. “Lay on your back, please. As I said before, I’d like to help you relax.”
Joel held your gaze for a hot minute, but then silently followed your order. “I’d maybe argue any other day, but not now, sweetheart. Today I’ll take all the care I can get,” he smiled, but you missed the warm gesture. He laid back, his head hitting the pillow, long curls that he had left to grow splayed around the back of his head. You were too focused, letting your hands wander over his chest, feeling the texture of his shirt and the years of safer life that he was hiding underneath had grown out brushing against the fabric. You moved your fingers lightly over his chest, watching his eyes flutter closed.
His hands blindly found yours, hardened blisters of his palms scraped your soft skin, and he pushed your hands lower, somewhere you didn’t dare look for too long.
“Don’t be shy, babygirl,” he muttered with his eyes still closed. You let him guide you. You could feel the tension in his muscles, the rigidity slowly melting away under your touch. 
You remembered him talking about ripping a bandage off, so you followed his philosophy, hooking your fingers under the elastic of his boxers and tugging the material down. As the cool air grazed his skin, he released a slow, shuddering breath. It felt like something forced you to lift your head up, you met his gaze and saw a flicker of softness and gratefulness in his eyes.
“This okay?” You whispered, hands already exploring the places your eyes were too shy to inspect.
“More than,” Joel’s voice was calm, breathing barely indicating the intimate setting you were in. His eyes fell shut again and a part of you thought that was only to give you more freedom, save you from his scrutiny. You noticed the slight hitch in his breath with each new touch, his body responding to your feathery strokes.
When your fingertips grazed the hot skin covered in coarse hair you couldn’t help but look. Even in half darkness it was easy to see that Joel was well-endowed and eager. His cock laid on the pillow of his pubic hair, the shaft slightly curved. Pink tip was glistening with precum and you wondered if you got him excited or the promise of future pleasure. Your left hand was resting on his hip when as if hypnotized you traced your index finger from his tip to where his base was covered in sparse graying curls.
Joel’s cock jumped to attention, twitching under your light touch, prompting you to close your fist around it which you immediately did. With the first tug on the velvety soft skin both of you released a moan.
“Spit on it, baby, make it wet,” Joel’s voice was relaxed, as if you put your hand on a muscle that was aching for days and relieved the pain.
Your short nails dug into his hip when you started contemplating how to do it. You weren’t completely innocent, far from it, but somehow you could count on the fingers of one hand the amount of times you needed to spit during sex. Deciding against spitting in your own palm, you took a different position, scooting lower down the bed and hunching over Joel’s waiting cock. The moment the smell of his skin and sweat hit your nose it was like you were intoxicated. Your lips closed around his flushed tip, tongue diving to get more of his taste. Both of your hands settled on his hips, either to hold him down or find balance. You abandoned the idea of spitting, the thought of not having his cock in your mouth almost pained you. It was like this was the grand finale of your romantic labor. Here, on your knees between the legs of a man who was holding you at arm's length for the longest time. It shouldn’t have felt so good, but it did. Taking care of him, even in this basic, primal way, felt like taking care of yourself.
Your wet mouth slid further down, the thick shaft of Joel’s cock stretching your lips. It took you a moment to realize Joel’s hands were in your hair. For a moment you thought he wanted you to stop, you even started to lift off, but the firm pressure of his hand on your head made it clear that he wasn’t against this turn of events. You let yourself build up to a comfortable taste, exploring each centimeter of his skin in your mouth, the way a couple of veins bulged under your tongue, the ridge of the head pushing further in your throat. You didn’t hurry and neither did he. You savored the slow rhythm of push and pull, letting him go deeper with every thrust.
One of his hands left your head and you raised your eyes to Joel’s face, mouth still very occupied with his cock. He must have felt it, because he barely lifted his head off the pillow, stray curls sticking to his sweaty forehead and you could swear you saw him wink at you before he laid his head back, using the freed hand to tuck away long strands of hair behind his ear.
The picture of this man, always so rough and guarded, finally relaxing under your touch and shedding the years of hostility made you drunker than any booze Tommy could’ve offered. Your movements became faster, saliva dripping down his cock and making it glisten. You felt Joel’s hips tense under your palms and you didn’t even need to hear the shameless moans drowned by your excitement and the sloppy wet sounds to know he was close.
“Doin’ good for me, baby, doin’ real good,” he groaned as you felt the tip of his cock punch the back of your throat repeatedly. Your eyes watered, but you admitted to yourself that you would rather suffocate and die than let the cock of this man out of your mouth. Your jaw was aching, the pleasurable pain that said how good of a job you did. 
The shaft under your tongue felt even harder, a loaded gun pressing on your tongue and you couldn’t wait for it to shoot.
Both of Joel’s hands returned to your head pressing you into his skin so hard that little hairs tickled your nose and your vision started to go blurry.
His load was salty and thick, you felt it slide down your throat like lava, burning you from the inside. Barely catching your breath you sat straight, watching closely how Joel’s chest rose and fell following his erratic breathing. There was an indecent amount of wetness gathered in the gusset of your panties and by the look on Joel’s face you knew you’d have to handle it yourself.
“Feeling good?” Your voice sounded weird, hoarse and raspy in the gritty silence of the room.
“You’re really good at massage, darlin’, I’m more relaxed than the day I was born,” Joel held his gaze on you, using his shoulder to scratch the underside of his jaw. You took it as your key to leave, after all, you never agreed to anything more.
Joel’s voice stopped you with one foot over the doorstep.
“Maybe I could return the favor some time.”
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