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rememberwren · 2 days

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Skin Deep

Tattoo artist!Simon x fem!reader. Reader, looking to expand her horizons, gets her first tattoo from Simon. 8.4k. Features: soft!Simon who is bad at people-ing, vaginal sex, lots of nipples, like at least three nipples, poor writing, abrupt transitions, shy and awkward reader. Based on this post.

“I bit the bullet!” you shout over the music, hand cupped around your friend’s ear to be better heard. She shrieks in delight at the sound of your voice, turning to wrap her arms around your waist and pull you close to her swaying body. Many eyes in the club follow her movements. She has always been the wild child to your wallflower, attracting attention wherever she goes.

“You bit what?” she shouts back, her breath like a mint julep.

“The bullet,” you laugh. “I called that guy you recommended and set up an appointment. For the tattoo I wanted!”

She stares at you blankly. Her silky little tank top is drooping off of one shoulder, so you reach out and tuck it back into place. The longer she stares, the more nervous you grow. She’d been so encouraging after your last boyfriend dumped you—encouraging you to step outside your comfort zone, to ‘make more mistakes’, to live life more fully. Now she’s staring at you like you’ve grown a second head and it’s the one doing the talking.

“What guy I recommended?” she asks.

“Kevin!”

“Oh no. No, no, no. Not Kevin. Not Kevin. Why, Kevin?”

You frown. “You said you went to Kevin.”

“It wasn’t a recommendation, sweetie, if anything it was to caution you away from him! He’s a creep; there’s a reason why I never went back.”

You deflate like a balloon, going limp and letting her drag you to the nearby free seats at the bar where you sit heavily. It’s not just the tattoo. It’s the icing on a shitcake of a day.

A new song seamlessly starts, and the dancers nearby go wild with excitement. Your mood is the antithesis of the event; everyone seems to be having a great time except for you. Story of your life.

“You conveniently left that out. Ugh. I’ll cancel it. What am I even fucking doing—thank you—” you accept the cup of ice water the bartender slides in front of you with a shy smile, sipping at it and keeping your hand curled over the top of it protectively. “—none of this is like me.”

Your friend frowns. She steals your drink and sips at it. “You were the one who said you’d always wanted a tattoo. You’re an adult. These are exactly the kinds of decisions you’re old enough to make. Look, fuck Kevin. All my friends hate Kevin. I know another guy, and he’s highly recommended. Let me give you his number. Alright?”

“Alright,” you sigh. You make a silent promise to yourself though: if it doesn’t work out with this next tattoo artist, then you won’t be getting one at all. You’ll take it as a sign from the universe to get back in your comfort zone and stay there, once and for all.

What kind of a moniker is Ghost? you wonder to yourself as you skim the Instagram of the shop this Ghost owns. The profile picture is one of the building itself, and all of the pictures are of various inked body parts. Beautiful ones, admittedly. But no hint of the mysterious figure who owns the shop. There is a personal instagram linked @GHOST89 but it is private when you try to click on it.

The phone number your friend gave you rings straight through to voicemail. You let out a shaky breath. Fuck, you hate voicemail. Talking to people was difficult enough; talking to people’s disembodied machines was even worse somehow. It isn’t until you’ve hung up after leaving your message that you realize you forgot to tell him your fucking name (genius!). Groaning, you contemplate dialing him back when the phone in your hand rings—and it’s him.

“Hello?”

“I’m free Wednesdays for consultations,” says a baritone voice from the other end of the line.

Nice to talk to you too, you think dryly. Maybe this guy is as bad at the phone as you are. “I work Wednesdays. Are you free in the evenings?”

He sighs, like this is going to be very strenuous for him.

“Name a time. I’ll pencil you in. Half is due at the end of the consultation upon booking an appointment. Cash only,” he says.

Jesus Christ, could he be anymore abrupt? While a tiny part of you is grateful that he isn’t trying to make small talk, a larger part is terrified that you’ve already made an impression so foul that it’s incurred his wrath. What other reason could he have for being so stilted?

“Alright,” you answer cautiously. “How’s five?”

“Five. Don’t be late.”

He hangs up on you, leaving you wondering why every step outside your comfort zone must be so bloody far.

You arrive early to the consultation, only to find that the building itself—a tidy little brick two-floor, adorned with a sign that dubbed it SKIN DEEP tattoos & artisan piercings, which you recognize from Instagram—is locked. A note written in neat handwriting taped to the door declares NO WALK INS. Your palms are sweaty. You wipe them on your work slacks, but it doesn’t help. How are you supposed to get in?

All at once a shadow appears on the other side of the door. The shadow is enormous: well above six feet tall, and broad shouldered. A black surgical mask is tucked up over his mouth and nose, which only adds to his intimidating aura. Judging by the impressive sleeve of tattoos he has, you imagine that this is the guy.

Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. And Ghost.

Dark brown eyes stare down at you when he opens the door, cocking a hip against the frame, staring at you. Waiting.

Waiting for you to explain your presence, you realize.

“I have a consultation,” you blurt out. “At…five?”

He opens the door wider to let you pass without a word. He’s so broad that you can smell him as you pass him: clean and masculine. The inside of the tattoo shop is bigger than it looks on the outside. There is a reception area with a desk and a computer and printer. The glossy wooden floors are polished to shine, leading to an open floor plan. There is a small sitting area with armchairs, a wide sofa, and a table on which rests two bottles of water, a notebook, and a steaming mug of liquid.

“Sit,” he says, his voice the same deep rumble you recognize from the phone. He chooses the chair beside the mug. His body is so goddamn long, his legs lean and thick all at once where he stretches them out in front of him. He reaches for the mug and takes a sip—of tea, judging by the smell. “Name?”

You tell him, perching yourself anxiously on the other chair. He glances up at you, eyes raking over your posture. Suddenly he tugs the mask down to rest beneath his chin, revealing a full, pale mouth. A straight, noble nose. A pink scar stretches across his lips and up towards his cheek.

“The water is for you,” he says.

“Oh!” You reach forward and take one bottle, breaking the seal. “Thank you.”

“This is your first tattoo.”

“What gave me away?” you ask with a weak laugh.

He doesn’t laugh. “Everything. Is someone putting you up to this? This smells like Soap.”

“What? No, of course not. I want this, I’m just, I’m an anxious personality. I promise.” You hesitate and then add: “I probably smell like soap because I showered this morning.”

His mouth twitches. He leans back in his seat and sucks on his teeth, and you get the distinct feeling that he is trying very hard not to laugh at you. Why had you mentioned to him that you showered? What was wrong with you? Just as you’re comprising a list of things, he picks up the pencil and the notebook, opening to a fresh page.

He asks what you want and God, that’s a harder question.

You do your best to express your idea, but your words feel halting and silly. His pencil scratches rapidly at the paper as he listens in total silence—pausing only once, when you say that you want this to be a sternum piece. Only then does his pencil seem to hover over the paper, his dark eyes seeking you out and pinning you in place on the armchair.

He reaches for his tea to take a generous sip and then continues writing.

He asks a few pointed, concise questions (and you’re just thrilled he was actually listening), following your answers up with more scribbling in his notebook. At length, he shuts the book.

“I think I see the vision. Give me thirty to sketch something and we’ll see if you want to book an appointment. Something this size, on your sternum could take more than one session, depending on how well you sit. How do you take pain?”

“I mean, it hurts?” you offer.

He stares. “Two sessions. Let me sketch something. Drink your water.”

You think that maybe he’ll move to another room to sketch, but he just flips to a clean page and begins to work right there (drawing the mask up over his nose and mouth again). With nothing else to do, you can’t help but watch him.

He’s handsome, in an odd sort of way. His brow is a little too low, his gaze a little too intimidating to be considered conventionally attractive, but you find him fascinating to look at, especially when he is so clearly in the throes of something he enjoys doing. It’s almost like watching someone have sex. The thought makes your face go warm. You pick up your phone, determined not to look at him again.

“Here.”

You glance up from your mindless scrolling. What he shows you is a beautiful rendition of what you had expressed wanting. There are a few key differences, and he patiently explains why he made the decisions he did. He didn’t make the changes because he thought your idea was stupid. He made them so the image would better fit the contours of your body. He made them because the ink will spread over time, and he wants the look to stay clean.

His thoughtfulness touches you.

“I love it. I want it,” you say, enthusiasm getting the better of you.

“This is just a first sketch,” he says dryly, making that warmth return to your face. “I’ll text you a few variations this week, and we can nail down the final piece. You want to book?”

“Yes,” you say, nearly buzzing. “I really want to book.”

He’s expensive—but judging by the book of his artwork that is available for you to flip through at the front desk while he quotes you a price and writes you up a receipt, he is more than worth the money. Fuck, he’s got skill. You thought that maybe his art style was too dark for what you wanted, but you found that he was able to adapt styles nicely. You just hoped this tattoo wouldn’t bore him to death.

“Thanks again for meeting with me,” you say as he sees you out. “I’ll be waiting for your text.”

“You’ll get it.” He glances past you out the window. It’s dark. “Did you walk?”

“No, my car is just there.”

“I’ll wait.”

And he does. His figure darkens the doorway until you have shut your car and locked the doors, temporary insanity making you give him a short wave. He raises two fingers and then disappears.

You didn’t tell me this guy was cute, you text to your friend.

GHOST? Cute? I’ve never even seen his face lol. He’s always wearing one of his masks.

You chew over this information. Yes he’d been wearing a mask, but he’d lowered it for you. Did that mean something? Did it mean something that you wanted it to mean something?

Masks are cute, you say.

Fuck the tattoo artist!!!! she says. Maybe he’ll ink you for free.

You’re terrible.

You’re…thinking about it.

Two days later, you squint blearily into the darkness at your phone after it vibrates on your nightstand. The time reads twelve past one in the morning. It’s from GHOST.

The two images he sends are beautiful; enough to rouse you straight from sleep into wakefulness.

I love them both, you tell him. But the second one is amazing. I think that’s the one.

Keep your appointment. Ten minutes later (after you have already fallen back to sleep) he sends: wear something appropriate.

And fuck, you didn’t even think of that.

“You’re being ridiculous,” you mutter to yourself in the mirror, turning sideways to assess yourself. On the bed behind you are a series of button up shirts, all of which you have tried on at one point or another.

“You are,” your friend agrees from where she lounges on your bed, scrolling on her phone. “Your tits are cute. Let Ghost see them.”

The look you give her is the one the phrase ‘if looks could kill’ was modeled after, surely. She doesn’t even see it, so the effect is lost entirely. You turn your gaze back to the silicone nipple adhesive covers again, still stuck to their adhesive backing. You’ve already used one set of the pack of three, and they covered your nipple and areolas nicely, but still left you feeling so exposed.

“Be glad you’re not going to creepy Kevin anymore,” your friend says.

“Very glad of it.”

You felt reasonably safe with Ghost, but still a degree of embarrassment about your own body. Or perhaps that was too strong a word—it didn’t embarrass you, but it felt private. Baring your breasts to a near stranger (especially one you had a grudging attraction to) made your anxiety reach epic level proportions.

“You should text him about it, see if he has any advice for you. He’s been doing this for years. I’m sure he’s seen it all,” she says—the first good idea she’s had all night, miles ahead of ‘Just let Ghost see your cute tits’.

That night, you take her advice and text him, hoping you aren’t overstepping some weird artist-client boundary.

I’m a little nervous.

You can cancel, is all he says. I’ll refund your money.

It’s not that.

What is it?

Not really accustomed to the nakedness tbh. There. You said it. Let him think you some prim priss; it was true.

But all he said back was: how can I help?

I don’t know, you admit. Then; sorry. I’m probably bothering you with this while you’re working.

I’m not working. Five minutes later, when it seems as if you aren’t going to message back: I keep the shop closed to the public. One customer at a time: you. I’ll let my piercer know I’m with a client and not to walk in. I’ll keep you covered every moment I can. Better?

Relief, warm and sweet curling low in your belly, you let him know: much better.

You bring the pasties anyway.

The day of your appointment, you are so nervous you are shaking. Now you know the truth behind the phrase ‘knees knocking together’, as you stand outside SKIN DEEP waiting for Ghost’s hulking figure to appear on the other side of the glass.

When it does, he’s like a little punch to the gut. That black surgical mask is in place—typical for him, if your friend’s words are to be trusted—but his blond hair, cropped short to his scalp is riotous in a way that is adorably charming, like he hasn’t been able to keep his hands out of it. His black t-shirt stretches across his broad shoulders, and his jeans fit him nicely around his thick thighs.

You’re horrified to find that your attraction to him has grown. Exponentially. Your friend’s words echo in your mind—fuck the tattoo artist, maybe he’ll ink you for free.

“Hi,” you squeak.

Ghost raises both his brows. He opens the door wider for you to slip past him. Fuck he still smells good.

“I’m still nervous,” you blurt out, hoping that speaking the truth out loud will help you feel better. It doesn’t.

“That’s normal. You can back out at any time, but the earlier the better. Come look at the image and tell me if it’s still what you want.”

It’s exactly what you want, and more.

“It’s perfect. You’re very talented.”

He huffs a little, like you shouldn’t have said such a thing.

The chair is a great leather contraption which reclines comfortably once he’s gotten you in it (after making you use the restroom first, during which you took the time to splash water on your burning face and double check that your pasties were in place covering all the cutest bits according to your friend). Simon moves around you, making preparations with the ease of someone who has done this work for many years.

You fight the arousal that blooms in your belly at the sight of him doing such benign things as washing his hands, putting on gloves, opening fresh needles, preparing little wells of ink and sticking them to the movable cart with Vaseline. There’s just something about a person who knows exactly what they’re doing and who is able to do it with efficacy.

“Ready?” he asks at length.

You nod, hoping your nerves don’t show on your face. Steeling yourself, you unbutton the shirt you’re wearing. His eyes follow your hands, but there is a detached, clinical sort of expression in them. He’s not watching a strip tease, he’s looking at a canvas.

Finally, you sit in front of him in only the pasties, the shirt lax around your shoulders, and your sweatpants, socked toes curling in anxiety in your shoes. Without missing a beat, he leans the chair all the way back. Then he opens a fresh disposable razor and shaves you.

“Am I hairy?” you ask, resting your hands oh-so-casually over your breasts to keep them out of his way.

“Yes,” he says. Then his eyes flicker to yours. “Everyone is. Everywhere. It’s normal.”

“I’m just teasing you.”

“Didn’t think you had the breath in your body left to tease me,” he mutters, voice nearly lost behind his mask as he carefully works the razor across your skin removing the baby-fine hairs from beneath your breasts and across your sternum. “You’re nervous, I mean.”

“Would you take the mask off?” you ask on a whim. It had helped last time, to see his face.

“No,” he says. He adds: “Sorry. It’s more sanitary f’you if I keep it on.”

You get the feeling that he really is sorry—and that’s well enough. Some of the anxiety in your belly fades away. He would take it off if he could. The most anxious part of the process (baring yourself to a stranger) has already passed. Maybe now you can begin to relax.

After cleaning your skin, he carefully lays the stencil and has you stand up to look at it in the mirror and make sure the placement is correct and holy fucking shit. It’s sexy. You’ve always been attracted to tattoos, and fancied the idea of getting one on your sternum for far longer than you’d ever admitted to anyone, but seeing it come to life gives you a rush you hadn’t expected. You feel so…badass.

“Good?” He asks.

“Very good,” you answer, sitting back down, hoping he ignores the way your breasts bounce a little as you do. He leans you back again and this time breaks out the needle gun.

But before he uses it on you, he carefully takes a clean towel and lays it over your left breast, covering the parts of you that are not nearest to his eyes. His gentleness and thoughtfulness go straight to your cunt.

“Thank you,” you say softly.

He just nods. The gun buzzes to life. “I’ll make a line and see how you feel. Last chance to back out without any souvenirs.”

“I’m not backing out.”

He clicks his tongue as if to say, It’s your funeral. Then he lays his hand on your sternum above your breasts, pinning you in place, and makes a gentle line.

It burns more than you expected it to. There’s a sandpaper quality to it, almost like the rasping of a cat’s tongue. The pain is sharp and bright, but it isn’t overwhelming. In fact…a strange part of you sort of enjoys it. Maybe it’s the rush of endorphins.

“Good?” He asks.

“Good,” you squeak.

You hear his quiet laugh, no more than an exhale of breath.

“Let me know when you need to break.”

You don’t know how you feel about the way he phrases that: when you need to break. He adjusts his mask a little, leans over you, and gets to work. Sometimes the needles pass over a place that is more sensitive than the others, making you flinch. He pauses when this happens, eyes flickering up to your own, making sure you are alright even though he can likely feel the pounding of your heart beneath his hand. That hand on your chest, wrist just brushing the top of your breast, is a solid warm weight that seems to tether you back down to the earth as he lines you. He is very careful not to brush against your breast when he wipes away the excess ink and traces of blood, but you feel hyper-attuned to how easy it would be for him if he wanted to. How huge his hand is compared to your tit. Beneath the pasties, your nipples ache with tension, a tension that is mirrored between your legs.

“Alright. Break,” he says, abruptly turning the gun off. He covers your exposed breast with another towel. “Take ten.”

He disposes of his gloves and disappears behind a curtain in the back, leaving you throbbing between the legs. Worming your phone free from your pocket, you scroll aimlessly, hoping to calm your raging hormones. He returns right at the ten minute mark, just as his cellphone rings. He glances toward where it rests on the table, but makes no move to answer it.

“Do you need to get that?” you ask, offering him an out.

“No,” he says. “I make everyone leave a message. Weeds out the cowards.”

It had almost weeded out you, you think about telling him, but in the end you decide against it. He gloves back up.

“Good for more?”

And so it repeats.

At one point, he runs into a patch of sensitive skin on your ribs just overlaying the bone. It has you sucking in a breath through your teeth, eyes squeezing shut. It’s too late to turn back now you tell yourself; the only way out is through.

His thumb gently strokes your sternum.

“It’s rough. You can take it,” he says, quiet and focused. The buzzing of the gun never ceases as he tries to make his work as quick as possible, his words a little distant and distracted. “Just keep breathing. That’s it. Good girl.”

Jesus. Did he not have any idea what those words could do to a girl? A groan escapes your lips, and he clearly mistakes it for pain, because his thumb strokes again the soft skin over your heart, just above the curve of your breast.

“You can do it. Just a little longer for me, and we’ll break.”

“Hurts,” you breathe, flinching again.

He hushes you, surprisingly tender.

“This is the worst of it.” This time, his thumb does brush the edge of your breast, making you suck in a gasp. He recoils, hand lifting away from you and curling into a fist. He rests that against you instead, taking away any further hope that he might brush his fingertips against you. You make it through the rough patch with tears in your eyes but no worse for wear.

“Break. Ten minutes,” he says again, already shredding his gloves and moving to disappear behind the curtain.

You call out: “Hey, wait—I’d rather just get through it in one go if I can. If this really is the worst of it.”

“I need breaks too,” he says stonily.

You duck your head, feeling silly. “Right. Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He vanishes again.

He is late to return to you. Only by five minutes or so, but noticeably for a man so usually punctual and so demanding of punctuality in you. His face is stoic—what bits of it you can see from behind the mask—as he washes his hands thoroughly and preps his work station again.

This time his hand keeps a very respectable distance from your breasts—a fact which you both lament and appreciate all in one. He works with single-minded efficiency, giving you his entire focus. You break once more, but this time he breaks in the room with you, stretching out his back and neck (giving you a generous glimpse of his belly when his shirt rides up, exposing cut abs and a happy trail you’d give your life to follow).

“I think we could do this in one sitting, if you have nowhere else to be,” he mutters at length.

“Eager to be done?” you wonder.

He stares at you, expression flat, and says nothing. Nothing needs to be said.

“I don’t have anywhere to be,” you murmur, staring up at the bright adjustable light that he has positioned over you. You hope he mistakes that for the reason behind any mistiness in your eyes, his rudeness cutting you deeply.

So the two of you push through later into the evening, until you are sweating at your temples and the base of your neck from the continuous pain for so long. At last he lays the last gradient for the shading, sprays you down, and wipes you clean so very gently.

“Go take a look. I’m going to cover it up.”

It’s beautiful. Stunning, even. You let your shirt gape closed and cover the pasties, revealing a broad glimpse of the sternum tattoo, and it is the sexiest you have ever felt. It almost makes your eyes burn anew.

“I love it,” you choke out. “Thank you.”

“Can I take a picture of it?” he asks. “For Instagram.”

“Sure!” It will feel a little like being famous, you think, judging by how much notice each of the photos on his Instagram garners. He crouches down on the floor to be at the perfect height, reaches out and gently adjusts your shirt. Parts of the tattoo are covered—the very far edges—but you can’t deny how sexy it is. Maybe he feels the same way.

After he takes the photo, he posts it and asks for your handle to tag you in it. Then he says: “Let me cover it up. Keep it covered overnight, but tomorrow let it breathe. Keep it clean. Don’t do anything stupid to it. Understand?”

“I understand.”

“And if you have any questions—text me.”

You get home to find that Ghost’s personal account has requested to follow you. Thrumming with nerves and excitement, you accept the request and send one of your own, spending the night scrolling through his Instagram (so, so carefully to avoid any incidental ‘likes’). Plenty of the photos are of his artwork, still. But there are ones of his dog: a German Shepherd that is thankfully much more photogenic than her surly owner. There are three or four photos featuring Ghost himself, and only one has his full face in the picture. You find yourself staring at his fixated expression for longer than is respectable.

Three days later when you find yourself panicking, you don’t text him like he asked you to. You call.

Your skin is peeling off. Peeling. Off. The sight of it makes your stomach roll. The entire tattoo is hot to the touch, and the skin around it feels warm as well. Flushed. Is it supposed to hurt this much?

The internet doesn’t help. The peeling is normal, sure. But everything else is suggesting that your tattoo could be infected. What sort of ink did Ghost use? Was it reputable? What if the infection reaches your bloodstream? You were too young to die! Your anxiety spirals like a plane with one wing, trailing smoke as it soars straight down, determined to take you with it.

With shaking hands, you don’t even think about texting Ghost. You go straight to calling him, tapping his number in your phone and pressing it to your ear, listening to the ring.

He’s going to send you to voicemail, just like he does to everyone else—except he doesn’t. All the sudden there is glorious feedback from the other end: a cacophony of voices and laughter, clearly some sort of gathering.

“Yes?” Ghost says into the phone, as if that’s a decent hello.

“There’s something wrong with my tattoo!” you cry.

“Wait—get out of my goddamn way.” There is rustling, and then the noise decreases substantially. You can almost see him standing outside whatever bar his friends have brought him to, mask down around his chin, hand over his other ear as he strains to listen to you. “Say it again. Now I can fucking hear you.”

“There’s. Something. Wrong,” you say through your teeth. “With my tattoo!”

“Well? What is it?”

“It’s falling off, for one!”

He snorts. “That’s normal. That's why you called?”

“It’s all swollen and hot. And it hurts.”

Now that shuts him up. He sighs a little, switches the phone from one ear to the other. “Hurts how bad?”

“Worse than getting it.”

“Fuck me. Alright. Meet me at the shop in…twenty?”

“Twenty minutes from now?”

“From when else?” He hangs up. Man doesn’t know the meaning of the word goodbye.

The night is cool. You don’t bother with a bra, not when it irritates your tattoo so much. Pulling your jacket closed more tightly around yourself, you walk from your parking spot along the street to the tattoo shop.

Ghost stands outside at the curb. His figure is unmistakable. He is smoking, mask down, the lit end of his cigarette a burning ember that flares bright in the darkness. When he sees you coming, he crushes the cigarette beneath his boot and opens the door to the shop, which is still and dark. He flicks on a light switch as he goes, casting the place in a warm glow.

He’s dressed in his usual dark jeans and an obscenely tight t-shirt, his sleeve of tattoos on display. He leaves the mask down. His eyes are on your tits—or resting where your tattoo is beneath your clothes.

“Well. Sit. Show me.”

You sit in one of the armchairs, your shoulders rising in defensiveness. “What, just flash you?”

“Nothing I’ve never seen before.”

Gritting your teeth, you begin unbuttoning your shirt until it gapes open. You cup your breasts with your hands, maintaining your modesty while putting the tattoo on full display. He narrows his eyes, leaning down. His fingers reach out, but then he thinks twice and washes his hands.

“I was smoking,” he says when you roll your eyes in exasperation.

“You’re worried about getting the chemicals on my skin but not in your lungs?”

“Fuck my lungs,” he mutters. His fingers hover over your tattoo. “Can I?”

You nod. His fingers are cool when they gently prod and ghost along the edges of the tattoo, feeling for the signature warmth of an infection. “Any fever?” he asks.

“Not that I’ve noticed.”

“You feel warm, but I’ve felt warmer. I don’t think it’s infected. Have you tried icing it?”

“No,” you admit.

“Ice will help. Just use something clean, for fuck’s sake.” As he speaks, his breath fans across your chest, making you shiver. He sees this, his eyes darkening. “When you called, I thought it was for me.”

“It was for you,” you say, brow furrowing. “Who else?”

He snorts, lips quirking. It tugs on the scar across his lips. “Forget it.”

“Forget what?”

“Talking about it goes against forgetting it.”

You groan, tossing up your hands. “You’re impossible.”

He reaches out and jerks your shirt closed, hastily doing up a button. Your face burns as you do up the rest of the buttons—you end up having to backtrack and redo them because he was off by one.

“Thank you for meeting me. I’m sorry it was for nothing.”

“It wasn’t for nothing,” he says. “And I wasn’t doing much.”

“You were with friends,” you insist.

His eyes narrow. “Who told you that?”

“I saw it on your Instagram tonight.”

“Nosey.”

“I could buy you a drink sometime,” you offer after a lengthy pause, your heart pounding loud enough to fill the silence between you. Are you really doing this? Are you really asking him out? “Make up for the ones I lost you tonight.”

“Maybe.”

God, it’s like he’s not getting it. Maybe you need to be bolder. Fortune favors the bold, doesn’t it? Your hands are shaking when they fall back to the buttons on your shirt.

“Would you take one more look at my tattoo? Just to be…positive?”

He sighs and makes an impatient hand gesture. Your fingers fumble through the buttons again. You don’t cover yourself with your hands this time; just keep the halves of your shirt over your nipples. He dutifully exams the tattoo again, prodding gently, laying the flat of his fingers against it to feel the warmth it lets off.

“Maybe you should look closer.”

His eyes flicker up to yours. “Closer.”

Your mouth is dry. “Yeah.”

“Can’t get much closer than I am.”

“You could—if you wanted to.”

“If I—“ it hits him then. You can see it in the fractional widening of his eyes, the way his mouth parts softly in blatant surprise before he shuts it, dark eyes returning to your sternum. He says: “Closer.”

“Mhm.”

The back of his hand brushes against your breast, causing your breath to hitch. His thumb traces softly along the outline of the tattoo, following the path just beneath your shirt, nudging the fabric aside slowly, so slowly, until your breast is bare, nipple puckered and aching.

“Fucking hell,” he mutters. His eyes flicker to yours as if to see if you really want this—and whatever he sees must reassure him, because then he is sweeping his fingertips along the bottom curve of your breast and taking it into his hand, his palm rasping gently over your nipple. All the breath rushes out of you. Your thighs clench together. Already you’re aching—have been since you saw his mouth around that cigarette on the street—but he moves with determined caution. His thumb finds your nipple and teases it, pulling a desperate little sound from the back of your throat.

“Pretty little tits,” he says, his voice a warm, smoky rumble that goes straight to your core. He captures your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, pinching softly.

“Fuck,” you gasp, one hand reaching out to brace yourself against his shoulder. He is solid and firm beneath your touch, unmoving and unmalleable. Your breasts have always been sensitive, but it feels like every touch is directly related to the feelings in your cunt. You find your back arching, hips searching for friction against the seat of the chair.

“Be still,” he says firmly. Another pitiful sound slips past your throat. “Let me play with you.”

“Please,” you gasp. “Play with me—even if that’s all you want—just don’t stop, please.”

His mouth parts as he listens to you, his eyes so, so dark. The pupils have nearly swallowed his irises whole, until you can see yourself bare from the waist up in the reflection. He shakes his head a little. “You don’t even know what you’re saying.”

“I do. I—“ your words are cut off with a gasp as he hauls you out of the chair by your wrist and onto his lap. He’s so thick thighed that it stretches you obscenely to have him between your legs. His hands tear the button-up off your shoulders and down your arms until it flutters to the floor, leaving you half naked. Dipping his head, he presses a heated kiss to the place on your sternum where he had rested his hand during the tattoo—and then trails wet kisses towards your left breast, taking your nipple into his mouth and sucking with a decided softness.

You let out an unflattering, choked groan, resting your weight heavily against him until you can feel the prominent bulge in his tight jeans. His hands find your ass and grip you tightly, working you back and forth, rubbing that bulge against your clothed sex.

“Driving me fucking crazy,” he mutters against your skin, opening his mouth to drag the sharp line of his teeth against the curve of one breast before switching to the other and flicking his tongue over your nipple.

You gape at his admission. Had you been? He’d been so closed off and cool…though now that you thought back, maybe that was just his way of hiding it. Suddenly he grips the back of your neck, where your hairline ends, and pulls you to his mouth. He tastes faintly of smoke, even fainter of the drinks he had had earlier in the night, but it is an intoxicating mixture. Your tongues find a rhythm as your hips do the same, both of you fucking in every sense of the word except the literal kind.

He takes one of your thighs and wedges it between his own, until you’re no longer grinding against his cock but instead his denim-clad thigh. “You the kind of girl who can cum like this? Just from this?”

“Uh-huh,” you promise, head bobbing.

He buries his face in your neck. “Good. I won’t last when I’ve got my cock in you. I’d like you to cum at least once before then.”

“Oh god,” you groan, gripping his shoulders fiercely as you begin a halting, stilted rhythm against his thigh. The denim is rough against your leggings. He feels all around you: his scent, his taste, his touch. When his hands find your hips to help you work yourself against him more smoothly, a sigh of gratitude fans from your lips.

“What else do you need?” he asks.

“My—touch me—“ He abandons your hips once you find a suitable rhythm. He finds your nipples again, teasing them with clever fingers. The stimulation has your peak approaching faster, building like a storm in your lower belly.

Ghost leans back to look at you, eyes trailing over you from head to toe: your face burning with warmth, your breasts with peaked little nipples, your leggings nearly soaked through at the crotch with how wet you are. He shakes his head, like he can’t believe what he’s seeing.

“Fucking perfect.” You bury your face in his neck, feeling a warmth inside your chest. He grips you by the neck again and tugs you back. “Look at me. Look at me.”

You look at him for as long as you can, but when the band in your belly finally snaps, your eyes roll up and slip shut, your mouth drops open in a choked gasp, nails digging into his shoulders as you shudder and shake in the throes of your pleasure.

He leans down to kiss you through it, tongue teasing at your slack mouth.

When he stands, he takes you with him, hauling you up until you wrap your shaking legs around his waist. It’s probably a good thing too. You aren’t sure you could walk otherwise. He carries you the few steps to the couch and lays you down, curling his fingers in the waistband of your leggings. You nod. He strips them off you, along with your flats, and your panties until you are naked as the day you were born.

Your thighs clamp together shyly. He lets them, reaching behind himself to pull his shirt off. Something catches your eye in the streetlights streaming in through the window: Ghost has one of his nipples pierced, a neat little barbell through the sensitive flesh.

Fingers enter your vision—your own—reaching out on instinct. You hesitate, unsure if he is receptive, and a little afraid to hurt him. He’s so bloody tall, too…but he takes care of that himself by kneeling down by your side, his eyes cautious. Closer, you can see the scars: silvery in the moonlight, crisscrossing over his torso.

“Does it hurt?” You ask, softly stroking your fingers beneath the pale pink skin of his areola.

“No,” he says. You can feel the timber of his warm voice vibrating through his chest, up your fingers, straight to your pussy. “You can play with it.”

You shyly run your thumb over it the way he had yours. He sighs, breath fanning across your arm. His eyes go heavy-lidded, tongue flashing as he wets his lips. After a moment, you grow insecure and move your hands away from his nipple down to a scar that crosses his sternum. He lets you, very patient, like a dangerous creature withholding its bite.

“You’re so—“ the words are whispered dreamily before you have any idea how you plan to finish the sentence. Flushing with embarrassed heat under his wary stare, you finish: “—hot.”

He physically turns away, expression inscrutable. You can’t help but feel like you have said the wrong thing. He puts a hand on your belly, stroking the softness. “You broken, or can you take more?”

“I want more.”

“Want my cock?”

You nod, feeling like a bobble head.

“I want to hear you say it.”

“I want your cock.”

His hand reaches for his belt, unbuckling it. Your eyes track the movement with hungry nerves. His hands put butterflies in your belly: thick palms with long, slender fingers, veins criss-crossing along the backs. An artist’s hands. He works his belt free with nimble grace and shucks down his jeans and underwear in one smooth movement, revealing his cock to your gaze and the light from the street lamps.

He is huge here to match. Downright intimidating in length and girth, uncut with a nice curve toward his belly. He grips himself and gives a series of smooth strokes, the muscles in his abdomen flexing into sharp relief.

“Oh my god,” you mutter.

“No gods here,” he says, kneeling up on the couch. His hands part your thighs, and for a long time he just looks at you, that sensitive, swollen place between your legs. He stares so long that you nearly cover your face, embarrassed by whatever he is thinking. Then he touches you, and when he does, he touches you with surprising reverence. He touches you like you are art.

“Can’t believe you let me ink you,” he mutters, stroking your vulva with his warm palm. His eyes are on the sternum piece now. “Practically let me carve my name into your skin. Anybody around here who sees it will know who did it. They’ll know who touched you.”

“Good,” you breathe.

His sigh is shaky. You’re learning his reactions, his very breaths. That shaky sigh means he’s pleased with you. You’ve said something right.

He reaches down to his jeans on the floor and works a hand into his pocket, pulling free a condom. He hands it to you—for inspection, you realize, though you’ve had so few one night stands (try zero) that you’ve never had the need to inspect a condom before. The package is intact at least. There appears to be an expiration date which you squint at. All looks well. You hand it back to him and he tears it open, rolling it down his considerable length.

Then he goes back to touching you. One hand braces himself against the back of the sofa so he can lean down to kiss you, tasting your mouth deeply. The other hand finds your entrance, circling it with a finger before slipping inside you all the way to the last knuckle. You are wet enough and relaxed enough that he slips in easily.

“Relax…there you go. Let me in,” he says under his breath, working a second finger in beside the first. It is a bit of a stretch—he’s thick everywhere goddamn it—but it’s a good stretch, a much needed one. The third finger has you stiffening, whining at the pinch of pain. He slows his fingers and lets his thumb find your clit, muting the pain with little jolts of pleasure.

“Ghost,” you groan, toes curling against the leather of the couch.

“I think you can take it,” he says, thumb so soft and insistent against that aching pearl of nerves. “But what do you think?”

“Your cock—want it—please—“

“Alright,” he laughs, pulling his fingers free and wiping the wetness on his cock. “No need to beg.”

He notches his cock against your entrance and slips inside you. Both of you inhale together, like on cue. Just the first few inches have you feeling full beyond your comfort zone, but he seems to understand in his silent, all-knowing way. He stills, working that free hand between you both to play with your clit until you’re clenching around him, body trying to pull him deeper. He slips further in and then reaches the end of what your body can take. You feel fucking stuffed, your hands shaking where you have gripped his naked shoulders, nails digging into his skin.

His own breathing is ragged, pecs brushing your nipples with every inhale. The little bursts of pleasure help, until you find that your hips have grown restless, working back and forth as much as his substantial weight will allow when you’re pinned beneath it.

“Stay still,” he mutters into the juncture of your neck. “Stay still or I’ll cum and this is all over.”

“Can’t,” you gasp, his revelation electrifying you. “Have to move, ‘m so full—“

“Fucking hell,” he groans. He pulls out, leaving you feeling gaped. “Roll onto your side.”

He gives you instruction but isn’t shy about reaching out and physically arranging you until you are both spooning, your back to his chest. This time when he enters you, it is more shallow, and easier for him to reach around and play with your clit.

You arch your back, seeking more of him, pressing your breast into his free palm. He plucks at the nipple, teeth nibbling at your throat.

“Want you to cum again,” he says, stilling your movements so that you can’t fuck your self back against him. “Give me one more. Then it’s my turn.”

“Ghost—I can’t—“ you’ve never cum twice before. Not even with your favorite toys have you been able to scrounge together more than one illustrious orgasm. This knowledge and your expectation of his disappointment has you stiffening in his arms.

“If you can’t, then don’t,” he says simply, like it’s the easiest thing in the world. He keeps his fingers soft and insistent against you, and only after a few lengthy moments does he feel confident enough to work his hips against you too. He pulls out too far and his length drags across your labia, the head brushing where his fingers play with your clit.

You give a sighing little moan. His head cocks; you aren’t the only one listening to sighs. Now when he gives those lazy, lackadaisical thrusts, his entire length just strokes the outside of your sex.

“Oh fuck,” you whine, feeling that band in your belly begin pulling tight again.

He hums behind you, a smug sound.

“Not sure I want you to cum now,” he says. “Hold it. I’m thinking it over.”

“Ghost!”

He laughs, honest to God laughs at you. Tears prick your eyes from the sheer need (and a bit from embarrassment) but his hips never cease nor slow their tireless thrusts against you, not even when you grow close enough to beg, close enough to plead.

He loops his arm around your waist and pins you against him when you cum to keep you from rolling right off the couch, your body wracked with shivers and spasms. The warmth of your release washes over you from head to toe, and you are still basking in it when his cock finds your entrance again and enters you.

The position keeps the penetration blissfully shallow (otherwise he might give your cervix a painful beating), but he still reaches new lengths inside you, filling spaces you didn’t know were empty. The shop is eerily quiet except for the sound of his hips snapping against your ass and the frequent breathy sounds his cock punches out of your lungs.

He buries his face in the crook of your neck and lets out a series of sounds that are toe-curling: deep groans and raspy curses, whispered praise and hisses through his teeth. His hand grips your hip tightly, leaving shadows the shape of his fingerprints on your skin as he fucks you.

Sooner than you’d like—but he’d warned you, hadn’t he?—his thrusts grow sloppy, the sounds messy thanks to your wetness as he finds his release and moans it into the skin of your throat.

“Fuck,” he whispers. And again: “Fuck, fuck. You broken?”

“Yes.”

He snorts. Then it turns into that laughter, warm and rumbling against your back. You smile where he can’t see.

“Sorry about this,” he says as he ties the condom off and throws it away, naked as the day he was born. You’re still naked too, though much more shy, legs crossed demurely and arms wrapped around yourself.

“Regretting it already?”

“Yes,” he says. Then, when he sees the stricken look on your face, he adds: “Should have at least taken you to dinner first.”

“Dinner?”

“You owe me drinks. I owe you dinner.” He finds his boxers in the darkness and slips back into them. Then, because the expression on your face still hasn’t relaxed, he says: “I don’t regret the sex. Do you?”

You shake your head.

He scoffs a little.

“I mean it,” you insist. You touch your tattoo. “I wanted it…the day you did—this.”

He raises both brows at you, silently calling your bluff.

“I didn’t think you were interested,” you admitted sheepishly.

“I jerked off in the back just from seeing half your tits,” he admits, slipping into his jeans now too. His mouth curls a little at the corner when he sees the way you gape at this news. “I was interested.”

You laugh; you can’t help it. “Dinner, then? Or drinks?”

“Yeah,” he says. “Alright. Get dressed.”

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #skin deep

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doitforbangchan · 1 day

Text

All Bark and No Bite - 18

Masterlist /Series masterlist

Chan x reader (y/n) x ot8

ABO!Nonidol!SKZ Alternate Universe

Previous - Next

Chapter warnings: Afab/fem reader, smut, unprotected p in v, mentions of oral (f receiving), sub!reader, Dom!Minho,crying (a TON), Dacryphilia, edging, masterbating, borderline voyeurism, choking, spanking, sir kink, subspace, biting, blood in mouth, angst, threats of violence, illusions to violence, cursing, fluff, kissing, dirty talk, petnames

WC: 14k

“Yeah, no thank you.”

“Come on, baby! I promise it won’t be like last time!”

“Jinnie…. last time was yesterday..”

“Exactly! 24 hours is enough for me to hone in on my skill.”

“Technically it’s been less than 24 hours-“

“That doesn’t matter! I swear I’ve gotten better!”

Hyunjin had been trying to convince you to let him do your makeup again, but this time he wasn't satisfied with just staying at home; no, this time he wanted you to wear it out. In public.

You stood before the mirror in the bathroom, freshly showered and beginning to get ready for the day. Albeit a little late in the morning- Jisung had demanded his ‘new favorite breakfast’ again this morning- but after making real breakfast for the pack it was time to get a move on with your day.

“Jinnie,” You fiddled with your hair brush, not wanting to upset him or hurt his feelings in any way but still attempting to remain adamant, “As much as I love you, I would really prefer to do my own makeup for today. Especially since Chan said most of the town would be attending the carnival, I really want to make a good impression on everyone.”

His lips curled in a playful grin and he practically had heart eyes. “Say you love me again.”

“I love you.”

“Again.” He requested, wrapping his lanky arms around your midsection from behind. “Tell me again.”

“Hyunjin, I love you so much.” The sincerity in your voice almost made him cry.

“Ok, I concede. You can do your own makeup today, baby.” He planted a wet smooch against your cheek, making you giggle and squirm in his hold. “On one condition.” He held up one finger. You hummed in question. “I get to sit here and keep you company while you get ready.”

You nodded with a wide smile, “Deal.”

The beta removed himself from you and hopped onto the counter next to you, being careful of your products. You started on your hair while he queued up some music on his phone.

“So what brings on this sudden interest in makeup?” You asked, genuinely curious, as he had not expressed (to you at least) any urge to learn.

He set the phone down; a slower melodic sounding song playing into the room, it was a gentle tune that just screamed Hyunjin.

“My muse, of course.”

He said it so casually, like it didn’t make your heart swell.

“I wanted an excuse to spend time with you, so I started looking up videos about makeup. Then it turned into me wanting to perfect the art form, and what better canvas than my favorite person.”

“Jinnie.” You blinked away the tears, but one slipped out anyway. “ You never need an excuse to be with me. I want you around, always. You’re my Jinnie.”

He reached out and wiped the wet trail off your cheek, cooing at you. “Sweet baby, don’t cry. I just love you so much I wanted something just for us. Time for only Baby and Jinnie.” He kissed you and wiped more of your tears. “Seriously, if you don’t stop crying you're gonna make me start.”

“Ok ok,” You pulled yourself together, sniffling once and willing the water works to stop. “Enough sappy shit,” that caused Hyunjin to snort, “I gotta get ready.”

You chatted with each other as you finished your hair and began on your makeup. You did your face then moved on to trying to cover up the hickeys and bruises left all over your neck and shoulders.

“Why are you doin that for?” Hyunjin asked, eyeing the cover up in your hands. “Everyone will know you’re there with us anyways.”

You dabbed your makeup sponge on your skin, glancing at him through the mirror. “I have no issue whatsoever with everyone knowing I’m with the pack. I don’t particularly want to go out in public looking like an animal mauled me, though. I am still a lady afterall.”

Hyunjin nodded in agreement, “Yeah that makes sense. Not everyone gets the privilege of seeing the naughty things we do to you, baby.”

“Exactly!” You applied the finishing touches, putting down your applicator and turning to face him. “How do I look?”

You had already gotten dressed beforehand; clothed in a pair of black high cut jean shorts that had little white flowers all over it and frayed edges, and a white one shoulder crop top that had corseted laces in the back. You also planned on pairing the fit with some strappy white sandals. Now with your hair and makeup done, you felt cute as hell.

“Looking great baby! Give me a spin!” You did as he asked and he cheered out loud for you, hyping you up. “Hot damn, gonna give the whole town a boner, out there looking like that.”

“Hyunjin!” You laughed and pushed at him. “Don’t be gross.”

He held his hands up in defense, “It’s not gross if it’s true.”

You laughed again, now turning on your heel to exit the bathroom. “Very profound of you, Jinnie.” Hyunjin followed you out of the bathroom and to your room. You were surprised to find there was already someone in there, rifling through your drawers. “Minnie, what are you doing?”

Seungmin looked up at you, clearly having been caught but showing zero remorse or embarrassment. “Hey puppy. Loving the shorts.” He grinned, and continued his digging. It was only when he lifted a particularly flimsy garment did you realize exactly which drawer he was rummaging in. Your panty drawer. “Why don’t you ever wear this one for me, huh?”

“Seungmin!” You felt your face heat up.

“You dirty perv! What the fuck are you doing?!” Hyunjin demanded, aghast at the younger's blatant behavior.

“Oh lighten up Hyung.” Seungmin snickered, then he held his fingers like a slingshot, shooting Hyunjin with the pair of underwear. Hyunjin was shocked at the assault, yelping when it hit him (even though it didn’t hurt at all).

You shrieked and stormed over to him, grabbing the next pair he held up before he could sling another one. “That is enough of that!”

“Yeah stop your shit, Seung!” Jinnie stomped his foot and pouted dramatically. Seungmin narrowed his eyes at the elder beta, his lip twitching with disdain at the order from his Hyung. Though Hyunjin was not his alpha- so Seungmin chose to ignore the demand.

A request from you on the other hand; looking up at him with a stern glower, eyebrows scrunched and lip tucked between your teeth- he couldn’t possibly continue his teasing, no matter how much he enjoyed it.

Seungmin threw his hands up in surrender, offering you a lazy smile. “Alright, baby. I concede. Don’t wanna get on my puppy's bad side. Last time she threw a can at me.” He ruffled your hair as you huffed, making him laugh.

“Funny how you don’t worry about my bad side, little prick.” Hyunjin attempted to launch the previously flung pair of underwear, but it only slung past Seungmins body, missing by over a foot. The younger beta glared menacingly at the elder, the latter immediately understanding the threat. He looked at his wrist as if there were a watch there (there wasn’t).“Well would you look at the time, I should get ready to go. See you later baby!” With that Hyunjin sped down the hall.

Seungmin smirked at the retreating figure, amused that his look had the desired effect. You, though, were still giving him that disapproving frown, clearly finding the ordeal humorless. “Seungmin, what are you doing in my drawers?”

He ran a hand through his hair, gesturing to the items on your bed you hadn’t noticed. It was a stack of t-shirts. Seungmins t-shirts.

He now felt a little abashed, refusing to meet your eyes and a light pink dusting covering his cheeks. “You walk around wearing Chan’s clothes so often, I thought maybe you’d want something of mine sometimes too.”

“Aww Minnie,” Your heart melted and you encased him in your arms, nuzzling against him. “Of course I want some of yours too, that is very sweet of you Minnie.”

‘Yeah, so sweet. Not possessive at all.’ He thought cynically of himself as you held him.

Your words were slightly muffled as your face continued to bury in his chest, “But why were you in my underwear?”

“I was going to put the shirts inside your dresser, but I got distracted.” He shrugged, not seeing a problem. “Puppy, I am just a man. A man who is a little bit obsessed with your pussy- and anything to do with it.”

You pulled away quickly, mouth agape and your face heating rapidly. “ Why is everything you say so vulgar?!”

He grabbed your face with both hands, his thumbs running along your cheeks, “Because I know how embarrassed it makes you, my little puppy.” He was cooing his words, as if talking to a real puppy. You wanted to move and avoid further mortification but he held you still, relishing in your submission. He held your gaze for another moment longer then he sighed wistfully, closing his eyes and leaning in to plant a soft kiss on your forehead.

You also closed your eyes, leaning into his touch once again. “Minnie..” You sighed quietly, more like a whisper than anything.

“Hmm”

“Love you..”

“Mm,” He pulled away slowly, peering down at you now. “Love you, baby.”

“Even though you're a perv.”

That made him fully burst into laughter, his eyes crinkling “ Only for you.” He reached around and pinched your ass hard. You yelped and smacked his hand, backing away and out of reach from his torment.

“Way to ruin the moment, jerk.”

“You’re the one who ruined it by calling me a perv!”

“I only call it like I see it, Minnie.”

You had a little smirk on your face that he just wanted to wipe off, and show you how much of a pervert he could really be. That would have to wait for another day, though. There was no time, seeing as the summer festivities were already underway.

“Remember this conversion. You don’t know what a perv looks like yet, pup.” He made his way to your door, stopping at the threshold. He pulled his car keys out of his pocket and turned to you again. “Get your shoes on, it’s almost time to go.”

He winked then left your room. You let go of the breath you didn’t know you were holding. Sweet and tender Seungmin was definitely your favorite - though the playful cheeky side of him was amusing sometimes as well.

‘I love a versatile man’ You laughed at your own thoughts, then gathered yourself and found your sandals.

You found Hyunjin, Changbin, Jeongin, Seungmin and Chan all downstairs chatting and cracking jokes.

Changbin was the first to notice you when you walked into the room and he made a show of whistling and clapping. “WOAH! Looking GOOD baby!”

Jeongin coughed, “Simp.” He coughed again, then received a harsh push from the older alpha, making him laugh.

You giggled, “Thank you Binnie.”

Jeongin pushed Changbin back, making Changbin stumble back into Seungmin who at the contact made a disgusted face and pinched Bins arm. They all started to bicker as Hyunjin laughed and Chan sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Only when the roughhousing started getting too mean did the head alpha step in.

“Enough!” His voice raised only slightly, but his tone held so much power- so much authority. Hearing it instantly made you wet.

The three boys stopped their antics at the command of the alpha, all three separating from the other.

“All of you, go get into the car.” He pointed to the door, “Quietly.” He looked at Hyunjin, “You too, go.” The beta went to protest but an eyebrow raise and a look from the alpha quickly shut him up, him too shuffling out the door like a wounded dog.

“Never a dull moment, huh Channie?” You smiled in jest, it was then you noticed he wasn’t dressed to leave yet; he was still shirtless and in his basketball shorts. “ Not that I mind you being shirtless, but why aren’t you ready? Aren’t you coming with us?” The look on his face gave him away immediately. “Channie! This is supposed to be a fun day out for all of us! You included!” You whined, tugging on his arm.

“I’m still going, omega. Just a little later.” You pouted at his words and went to turn away from him, making him grab your cheeks with one hand turning you back to face him. “Don’t pout. It’s still a weekday, I have to work. Someone in this house has to make enough money to support nine people. I will be there in a few hours after I get some important work done.” You felt your lip tremble in his hold, his tone noticeably hardening and making you want to cry. Thankfully you were able to steel yourself and hold your tears back before you messed up your makeup.

“Ok alpha, I understand. M’ sorry.”

His look noticeably softened. “You’ll have fun regardless, I promise.” He kissed you on your mouth and let go of you. “The boys are waiting for you, better go before they strangle each other.”

You nodded, leaning up to give him another quick kiss, then scurrying yourself out the door.

As you expected, the drive into town was.. Chaotic to say the least. Chaotic yet comforting. You loved how authentically themselves they are with each other. You pressed your face to the glass of the window as you passed by downtown, seeing it set up with booths and market stalls and tons of people. A little further down obscured by buildings you could make out the tops of some rides.

“Cutie pie.” Jeongin tickled your side from behind as he watched how enthralled you became.

Seungmin parked his car in a back lot and the lot of you clamored out. “The others are around here somewhere, they got a head start this afternoon.” Seungmin said, locking the car.

Hyunjin grabbed one of your hands and Jeongin grabbed the other one. Both started to drag you along with them. “What should we do first, baby? Shopping? Food?” Hyunjin asked, pursing his lip in thought. “OOO how about rides?”

“Yes, rides! You like rides, dontcha baby?” Jeongin beamed at you.

“I love rides.” You beamed back, excited. Even back when you lived with your family you hadn’t been allowed to go to the fair in years. Your elder sister always made sure to bring you back something. Be it food, stuffies won from games, hell one time she even brought you a goldfish.

You couldn’t stop yourself from thinking of her now. You remembered how she used to hold your hand, back when you were too small to be left to your own devices. You both used to be the best of friends, even though she was so much older than you she always made sure to include you in her plans. As you got older and presented as an omega, the bond you shared began to strain. She still had most of her freedoms as a beta. Your father didn’t hold her leash as tightly as he held yours and your mothers. She still got to go to school, have friends, meet boys.. In your teens you had resented her for it, but now you understand it wasn’t her fault she was able to have more of a life. It was your fathers.

You wondered what she was up to since you left. And if she missed you as much as you now missed her. You missed your mom too. She was the only one you could relate to. There was a pain in your heart as you thought about how much she must have cried when you disappeared.

A sourness was draining out of you in waves, your inner turmoil coming out for all to smell. It was only a second before you were being tugged into the arms of Jeongin; the alpha being able to smell it just before Hyunjin could.

“Baby, what’s wrong? Did something happen?” He asked, keeping you close and away from any one else.

“We don’t have to do rides right now if you don’t wanna!” Hyunjin said, trying to make it better but having no idea why.

You shook your head, “No, no I’m ok. Nothing is wrong.” You gave them a weak smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes.

Jeongin tapped his nose, “I think you’re forgetting we can smell your emotions, omega. And I’m just saying, you do have a lot of emotions.” He saw your face fall in shame before he backtracked, “Not that it’s a bad thing! It’s not your fault your sensitive baby! I love it! Just not when you're upset like this.”

“M’ sorry guys. I was just thinking about my family, how much my sister loved the fair. I didn’t mean to make myself sad.” You hugged tighter into Innie, Hyunjin coming in and sandwiching you between them.

“I know you’ll never forget the memories you’ve made with your family, and of course I never want you too; but I hope that we can make more happy memories together as a new family. Ones that we can look back on when we’re old.” Jeongin had a light pink creeping onto his cheeks, his own sentiment making him shy.

“Yeah memories we can tell our kids about!” Hyunjin added, pressing kisses to the back of your head.

Now it was your turn to get shy, “You guys wanna grow old with me and have babies? You guys don’t eventually want to find someone who you don’t have to share?

They both shook their heads vehemently, with Jeongin answering first. “Of course we want to grow old with you baby! We took your mating bites, there is no one else for us for as long as we live. If you’ll have us…”

“Yes I want you! All of you! I love everyone in this pack so much, I can’t imagine a life without all of you in it.”

“And our babies?” Hyunjin added, sounding hopeful.

You giggled “Yes Jinnie, and future babies.” You reached up and pinched both of their cheeks, laughing harder when they whined, smacking your hands away. “Any babies from you lot are going to be just the cutest. Now let’s stop being sappy and go ride some rides.”

You took their hands again and tugged them off to have fun. You were feeling much better now, the boys having done a great job at taking your mind off of it. Though now, all three of you could only think of a litter of little chunky babies.

The future is looking better everyday.

“Hey Changbin!”

The alpha was perusing the food stalls, deciding which sweet to start with (though he knew he would eventually try all of them), when he heard his name being called. Behind him was Wooyoung, his hair slicked back and his hand in the air waving him over.

“What’s up bro?” Changbin went over to where the beta was standing, greeting him with a bro hug. “Thought you were busy with your uncle today.”

“The old man let me go early.” Wooyoung replied, putting his hands in his pockets casually, and looking around. “You uh, here alone?”

“Pfft, no. The whole pack is here, I think minus Chan. Old man never stops working.” Changbin replied, peeping at the goods at the stall they were by, and missing the glint in Wooyoungs eyes.

“Chan is your head alpha, right?” What Changbin didn’t miss was the mild excitement lacing the betas voice suddenly.

He looked at him with a side eye, “Yeaahh, he’s pack leader. Why?”

Wooyoung did his best to look abashed, glancing away and then rubbing the back of his neck. “Oh you know me, just love a strong alpha. Woulda been nice to meet him.”

Changbin laughed then, clapping Wooyoung on the back. “Don’t let your own alpha hear you say that. From what you said he can get pretty possessive.”

The beta snorted, “You don’t know the half of it.. Anyways, do you wanna hang out for a while?”

Changbin agreed enthusiastically, happy to have a companion for the day. The two of them meandered together, chatting and laughing. After a while Changbin got a text in the group chat, asking for whoever is closer to the ride section to come for a second. Changbin happened to be only a few yards from the rides area, thus he replied so.

“Looks like Baby got a little motion sick, I’m gonna run and get her real quick.” Changbin said and turned to walk down the path. Wooyoung nodded, biting his lip to conceal his smirk.

Everything was spinning, you couldn’t stand up straight or you would surely tumble down. You were leaning against Hyunjin for stability.

“You’re alright baby, take all the time you need.” The beta said, rubbing your arm.

“Too much spinning.” You mumbled, trying to get your bearings. “I think I’m done with the rides for now, boys.” You caught the crestfallen look on both of their faces, “But you guys don’t have to be done! I can go find another pack member to tag along with!”

The boys shared a look, then Jeongin said “You’re not going off by yourself. I’ll see who’s around.” He pulled out his phone, typed for a moment then waited. After a minute or so he got a ding. “Perfect, Bin is around the corner. He’s coming to get you, baby.”

True to his word there was Changbin coming towards you with open arms. “There's my sick little omega. Come to Binnie.” He pulled you off of Hyunjin and into his awaiting arms, giving you a hug.

“M’ not sick, just a little too dizzy.” you said but allowed the hug. “Thank you for coming.”

“Binnie to the rescue!” He flexed his arms, making a show of kissing his biceps. Jeongin faked gagged, making Changbin roll his eyes. “Come on, let’s leave these heathens to get so sick they throw up.”

He took your hand and took you the opposite way from where you came from.

“I really appreciate you coming for me, Binnie. You didn’t have to, I could have figured it out so I didn’t have to bother you.”

He brought your joined hands up to his mouth and kissed the back of your hand. “I will always come for you, baby. No bother at all. I was just hanging with Woo, looking at food.”

Your stomach lurched at the mention of eating right now, making you grimace. “A water bottle sounds lovely right now.”

Changbin waved at his friend, a man you had never seen before came striding up to the pair of you. “Baby, this is my friend Wooyoung.”

“Hi, I’m Y/n. It’s nice to meet you.” You offered a shy wave, still holding onto Bin.

The new man's gaze was intense as he took you in. There was something ominous in the way he looked at you, a clear eagerness residing behind his smile. “Nice to finally meet you too.” Even his voice had an eeriness you couldn’t place.

‘Be polite Y/n, this is Binnies friend. Give him a chance.’ You thought to yourself, shaking off the negative thoughts.

“I can finally put a face to the girl that has this pabo wrapped around her finger.” Wooyoung pointed in jest at Changbin, who in return shoved him with a light blush creeping up his ears.

“Shut up, Woo!” The alpha whined. That made you giggle, Bin was too cute sometimes. “Let’s get you that water, love.”

You and Changbin walked ahead with Wooyoung following close behind. You both failed to notice when the beta pulled out his phone, taking a quick picture of you and sending it off in a text message. The only words accompanying the picture being ‘ found her’.

Changbin bought you water and told you to let him know when it was finished, knowing you would want something after your stomach settled. The three of you walked the downtown stalls, occasionally stopping to look at booths or for Bin to get another snack. After a while you started to feel better, no longer having a headache or the gurgling in your stomach and you found yourself accepting some of the offered bites and goods.

You were munching on an oversized churro, listening to the two guys banter when Changbin stilled your walking with a dramatic gasp. “Look!” He pointed excitingly at a game booth. The game was one of those arm wrestling competitions, where the winner plays until they lose. “I gotta try!”

He pulled you till him and Wooyoung were in line and you were waiting with them. The line went pretty quick, the current champ taking out people left and right. Soon there was only one person ahead of Changbin.

“That game was made for you, Binnie.” You hyped him up with a laugh, rubbing his shoulders as if he was a fighter. “Show em who’s boss!”

You stood off to the side as Changbin faced his opponent. You cheered him on as the arm wrestling began, both men giving it their all. All too soon it was Changbin who forced the other man's arm down, claiming victory. The alpha jumped up and down animatedly, pumping his fists in the air. His next opponent was his friend Wooyoung.

“You’ve seen how much I lift, Woo. You sure you wanna take me on?” Bin was being cocky, flexing at his friend.

“Might as well give it a shot. Maybe I’ll win.” The beta responded, getting into position.

In a matter of seconds Changbin had won again. Wooyoungs arm went down almost without resistance.

“All that weight training and nothing to show for it.” Bin laughed, clapping the other man on the back. “We gotta work you harder from now on.”

“Guess I gotta catch up before I can beat you.” Wooyoung shrugged, laughing too.

Bin looked over at you, gleaming with joy at being undefeated. “Just a few more times baby, then we can go.”

You sent him two thumbs up from your place a few feet away, “ Play as much as you want Binnie. I’m good staying here waiting for you.” He blew you a kiss then went back to playing.

After a few minutes you finished your Churro. You went to take a drink from the lemonade Bin got you, only to find it already gone. ‘Dangit Binnie! You said you didn’t want any!’ You glared at his back playfully, knowing he couldn’t see you. It was at this moment that Wooyoung shuffled up to you with a grin. You did your best to give him a polite smile in return.

“Doin alright over here?” He asked you, being a touch to close for your comfort.

You stepped back, now leaning against a wall and trying to appear natural. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just having my snack.” You lifted your now empty drink cup.

“Ah Changbin went to town on that thing.” He laughed.

“After he said he didn’t want any.” You laughed too, not being mad about it but still finding it amusing.

“Do you want another one?” The man asked, still sporting his grin that gave you the chills (not in a good way). He motioned for your drink.

“Um, “ You didn’t want to be rude. “No thank you. I should cut back on how much sugar I’ve had today. And I wouldn’t wanna inconvenience you. I’ll just wait for Binnie.”

He shook his head, “ It’s not an inconvenience at all. You look thirsty, let’s go get you another drink.” He grabbed your wrist and went to move with you.

You dug your heels into the ground and attempted to pull your arm away. You looked over to where Changbin was, he was too far away and cheering too loud to notice what was going on. “I said no thank you. I’m staying right here.” Now you were beyond nervous, eyes wide as you pulled again.

“Come on, It’s just lemonade. The stall is right over there. Don’t be difficult.” He tried to keep up his nice guy tone, but you could tell he was getting frustrated. “I thought omegas were supposed to be nice and grateful.”

He tugged you again, his grip tightening. You started to raise your voice despite the trembling in your lip “ I said no! I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“Don’t yell you little -”

“Get the fuck away from her.”

Minho was across the way, browsing a booth selling tiny animals made of rocks. He wasn’t initially going to buy anything -he just liked to browse- but he couldn’t help but stop, thinking of how excited you would be if he gifted you one of these. He wanted to show he did care about you but he wasn’t the best at verbally expressing his emotions. He figured this would do.

After a looking for a few minutes he found the perfect one. A little cat made of some kind of pink rock. Rose quartz he would assume. He was happy with his find, quickly waving over the shop keep and pointing at the one he wanted.

He was just finishing paying when he caught the familiar scent of the exact person who had been on his mind. Minho pocketed the little figure, and turned around with his head held high, searching for the source of that intoxicating aroma. All to quickly that scent started to sour, indicating you were in some kind of distress.

Minho looked through the sea of people until his eyes locked on your figure from the other side of the street. You were leaning against a wall, standing with someone. No, more like being grabbed by someone. Getting closer he could see who it was.

Wooyoung.

“That son of a bitch.” He murmured, now starting to walk quickly over to where you were. He didn’t want to run and cause a scene, well more of a scene than he was about to cause, he didn’t need anything else making his pack look bad.

He got to you to see Wooyoung holding your wrist, not letting you go as you tried to pull away.

“ I said no! I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“Don’t yell you little -”

“Get the fuck away from her.” Minho practically snarled, pushing the younger beta away from you and getting in his face. “What the fuck is your deal?”

Wooyoung let go when he felt the contact from Minho. “Hey man, it’s alright, just a misunderstanding.”

“A misunderstanding huh?” He scoffed, not moving away from Wooyoung. “Here's something you should understand. Stay the fuck away from Y/n and Changbin. I don’t know what the fuck is your motive here, but this is your only warning. Stay. Away. From. them. Or I will hurt you.” The tone he used was venomous, his glare deadly.

By now this altercation has attracted some attention, a few onlookers stopping to watch the scene unfolding. Not that any one of you cared much, too caught up in it yourselves. You just watched on in horror, praying this didn’t escalate into violence.

“Is that a threat, Minho?” Wooyoungs look hardened, glaring at the elder.

“I don’t make threats.”

“Woah woah woah! What is going on over here?!” Changbin had come running, now paying enough attention to hear the commotion. He put his body between Minho and Wooyoung, separating the two.

“Keep better track of your ‘friend’, Changbin.” Minho spat, he shoved a finger into his chest, making him stumble. “He grabbed our omega. Good fucking job watching her by the way.”

“Hyung, I don’t understan-”

“Yeah of course you don’t fucking understand. You are too fucking trusting. You don’t even know this guy and you left him with the most precious thing in our pack? Get a fucking grip.” Minhos words were like a stab to Changbins chest, the impact sitting heavy. “Tell him to keep his fucking hands to himself, and then stay away from him. I’m not joking, Changbin.” He turned to walk closer to you, putting his hand on your back and leading you away, past the onlookers.

“Min where are you going?” Changbins voice broke as he called out.

“I’m taking Baby home, away from him.” He replied in a hard tone, not turning around to address him at all.

You were on the verge of tears, trying to contain your emotions but they took over anyways. You didn’t want to be around Wooyoung so you just let Minho lead you away.

Changbin shook his head in grief. Then he turned to face Wooyoung who was still standing behind him. “What did you do?”

“Changbin, it was nothing.” The beta tried to shrug but Changbin wasn’t buying it. Not this time.

“You know what, Wooyoung? I think Minho’s right. Maybe I should stay away from you. You say and do some weird shit sometimes. Don’t call me. Don’t come by my gym. We’re done.” Changbin turned and walked away. He had a lot to think about.

That left Wooyoung by himself. He waited for a second then turned and walked the opposite way Changbin had gone. He kept going until he was a few yards away from any of the townspeople, then he took out his phone.

“Hey, it’s me.”

Pause.

“No, she got away from me, I couldn’t cause a big scene like that.”

Pause.

“I know where to find her. I’m sure you’d love to hear about her new alpha.”

Minho silently walked you all the way to the parking lot. Just arriving was Chan, seeing you both approaching. “Hey! Having fun?” He asked, then he noticed the hard pressed look on Minhos face and the tears in your eyes. “Oh no, what happened?” He reached up to wipe your tears, heart breaking at the little whimper you let out.

“Wasn’t me this time. I’m taking her home. This has been enough excitement for today.” At Chan's confused face he continued. “ I’ll explain it more to you later, for now you should check on Changbin. Make sure he’s not with his ‘friend’ “ Minho spit the word, clearly still steamed.

Chan nodded slowly, feeling like Minho had his reasons for taking you. He kissed you and gave you a hug, pumping out comforting pheromones to help you calm down. He felt your shoulders relax slightly, and you hugged him even tighter.

“Minho will take care of you, baby. I will be home soon to check on you, ok?” The alpha said, kissing your cheek this time. You nodded into him and let him go. Being in his hold helped to ground you; remind you that you’re ok. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Channie.”

Minho led you further into the lot and to his car. He opened your door for you and waited for you to be seated, then he reached over you and tried to buckle you in. It was at this point you were done being babied. “ I can buckle my own seatbelt Minho. I don’t need you to do it for me.” You attempted to grab it from him but he pulled it back and glared at you.

“Oh you don’t need me to do this for you but you need me to save you?” He scoffed, finally buckling you in and slamming your door shut.

“I didn’t ask to be saved by you.” You replied snarkily when he opened the drivers side door and climbed in.

He turned to look at you, really taking you in for the first time that day. He took note of your teary eyes and the scrunch of your brow. He also noticed that the marks that were on your neck and shoulders were gone.

“Where are your claiming bites?”

His question threw you off. “Huh?”

“Your bites and marks. They’re gone.”

“I covered them with makeup.” You said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Why? Are you embarrassed? Don’t want everyone to know you're taken by us?”

“Of course I’m not embarrassed! I just wanted to look presentable in public!” You narrowed your eyes, “And there's no mark on me from you Minho, so I don’t know what you mean by us.” You knew you were being a little petty, but honestly you didn’t give a damn.

He scoffed, a borderline menacing glaze taking over his face. “ Is that why you're acting up? Because I haven’t laid my bite into you yet? Grow up. You’ll get it when I’m good and ready to give it to you.” He started the car, and began to back out of the spot.

You leaned back in your seat, crossing your arms and looking out the window. You didn’t have a reply that wasn’t an insult so you thought it better to keep your mouth shut. The whole drive home you and Minho ignored each other, opting to drive in silence. Both of you are stewing in your own thoughts.

Soon enough the car pulled up to the house. You shot out of the car as soon as he parked, barely giving him a chance to turn off the vehicle. As you went up the steps you heard Minho's car door slam after he stepped out.

You had made into the doors threshold when he grabbed your arm, halting your movements. “Go wash that filth off of you.”

Filth?

“Do you mean the makeup?” Or did he mean Wooyoungs stench?

He huffed, “Yes, I don’t like it on you.” You were about to protest, but when you went to open your mouth he leaned his face closer to yours and lowered his voice. “It’s the least you could do after I brought you all the way home and away from danger.”

You decided the matter is not worth the fight.

“Yes sir.” You rolled your eyes as you said it sarcastically. Minho resisted a growl at the title, biting his lip instead and showing off those bunny teeth of his.

You pulled your arm free and stormed into the house and up the stairs. You did make it a point to slam the bathroom door shut, though.

You knew you shouldn’t have been so rude to him, especially after he stood up for you and got you out of that frightening situation- but you couldn’t help it. Minho was the only person you were testy with, and clearly neither of you understood why.

The house was quiet. No one else was home yet, it was just you and Minho, and the latter was making no sound at all. It was almost eerie. You removed the makeup from your neck in silence, using the wipes provided by Hyunjin. You finished the task quickly and headed out into the hall. You rounded the corner to go to Chan's room to hide away, but before you could open the door a hand grabbed you and wrapped loosely around your neck, and a sturdy chest at your back. Your movements were halted completely as you screamed in fright, your hands coming up to grab the offending hand.

“So you can listen to me.”

It was Minho. You were so in your own head you didn’t even sense him nearby.

“Minho.. What are y-”

“Shhh,” You felt his lips by your ear, the rasp of his whisper making you shudder. “ You look so good with these pretty marks of yours showing. Purple is my favorite color, you know? And the boys sure did a good job covering you in it.”

You felt his lips brush against your neck, lingering on the biggest hickey at the base, and his tongue poked out to touch the bruised skin. The actions felt so erotic, so sensual, yet he was barely doing anything to you. Your heart was beating so fast in your chest you were sure he could hear it pounding- if not being able to feel it in your throat. He wasn’t squeezing hard enough to hurt you, only hard enough to hold you in place.

When the light brushes of his lips turned into full on sloppy smooches you started to lose your cool, your hand tightening around his that still held your neck as a mewl escaped your mouth. You could feel his smug smirk against your skin and you would have rolled your eyes if the situation had been different. His other hand found its way to your hip and he pulled your body even closer to his, his chest now flushed against your back.

“Here’s what's gonna happen, omega.” You bit back another whimper at the mention of your presentation. “We’re gonna put an end to this stupid tension you and I share. You are going to be good for me and do as I say, and in return I’m going to fuck you so good you forget your own name. Do you understand?”

You tried to nod your head frantically but with the way his hand tightened as he held your head in place told you he wanted a verbal response. “Y-yes, Min. I u-understand.” Your voice came out raspy as you tried to hold back showing your arousal yet doing a terrible job. Your panties began to dampen further when you heard his little chuckle in response to your stuttering.

He hummed into your skin, “Mmm good girl.” He kissed your neck again and his hand traveled from your hip to your ass. He gave the cheek a squeeze, cupping it over your shorts and he hummed again. Your breathing picked up when you felt it and your eyes were falling shut as a result of all of the light stimulations. Then right as your lids finally shut he stopped; taking his hand from your throat and backing up from you.

“Huh?” Your breath returned to you in full and you spun around to face Minho.

He gave another chuckle at your confused expression. “What? Did you think I was gonna take you right here in the hallway? No no. I’m not that much of an asshole.” He grabbed your hand and pulled you with him down the hall in the direction of his room. “Plus, how else am I going to get your scent all over my sheets if I don’t have you in them?”

You felt your face burn as he tugged you along, loving the thought of him wanting your scent all over him all the time. He opened his door and pulled you inside. The second the door was closed he had your back against the door and his arms on both sides of you caging you in. Your breath hitches in your throat as he leans in and looks into your eyes, as if he can see straight through you and into your soul.

You lifted a hand up to his face, using your thumb to rub his cheek- so softly he could have missed it if he wasn’t so focused on your touch. “Min…”

The whisper of his name was the scissors cutting the thread, his last strand of willpower snapped and he was on you. His mouth was burning hot as he crashed it against your own. You returned his enthusiasm by reciprocating and the two of you devoured each other. His kiss wasn’t soft or sweet; instead it was desperate and frantic- as if he had been longing for this just as you have.

The taste of Minho's mouth was exquisite. It was very similar to how he smelled but richer. It was slightly tart and tannin rich- almost like a dark wine that's been aged to perfection. You moaned weakly into him when he ran his tongue on your own, now the two appendages fighting for dominance.

His hands left the door and went to the base of your ass, gripping and massaging your lower cheeks, fingertips digging into the meat. He bit your bottom lip , almost drawing blood with his bunny teeth. “Fucking love these little shorts. Your ass looks so good it should be a crime. Can’t believe Chan let you out of the house looking like this.” He gripped tighter and you whined from the light pain. “If it were up to me you would never be able to show off your sexy body to anyone outside this house. Though if it were up to me, you wouldn’t be able to leave at all. I’d keep you here, naked and ready for us to play with whenever we wanted.”

An involuntary mewl left your lips. His words ignited a flame within you; your inner omega panting and begging for that reality. A rush of slick gushed out of you and in your panties. Minho's nostrils flared and his pupils dilated when he caught the sweetness that he knew to be the scent of your arousal.

His hands went to your thighs, “Jump.” You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and did as he said, jumping into him as he hoisted you up. The muscles in his arms flexed as he carried you to his bed. He dropped you on his bed, your back hitting the softness with a small bounce. You leaned back on your elbows as you took him in. Minho was standing at the foot of the bed gazing down at you with wild eyes, and his breathing labored. You hadn’t noticed before but he was sporting a dark pair of jeans and a black tank. His hair had been pushed back but a few wispy strands fell over his eyes anyway. He looked incredibly mouthwatering.

He sported a cocky smirk as he palmed his hard on through his jeans. In his mind you resembled a bunny rabbit; with your big glassy eyes and trembling lips- and he was the wolf that wanted to swallow you whole.

Ironic given that you thought he also looked like a bunny.

“Take your clothes off.” You went to shuck off your top but the beta tsked, “Uh uh, slowly f’me baby.” Minho didn’t believe in instant gratification- not even for himself.

You sat up a little more and with shaking fingers you found the laces on your top, undoing them as slow as you could while also steeling your nerves. He was watching you like a predator, a dangerous gleam in his eyes as he focused on your nimble fingers. He appeared to be much more put together than you mentally and physically. You eventually got your shirt off and your breasts were freed, the AC in the house made your nipples harden. You then moved on to your shorts. You looked right into his eyes as you undid the buttons and the zipper, slowly pushing them down your legs and off of the bed.

You could feel the intensity of his aura; his general assertiveness coming off of him in waves and making you want to submit fully to him. He could tell you to jump off a bridge and you would probably do it without question. Even though he wasn’t an alpha (a fact you love to remind him of) he still held domination like one. You guessed that was a natural side effect of being second oldest and second in command of a pack of men.

Finally you got your shorts down your legs, now being almost completely naked except for your underwear. Just as you went to pull down your underwear he stopped you. “Wait, leave 'em on while I get a good look at you.” Minho’s eyes roamed all over you and made you feel slightly self conscious, your hands going to cover your chest but the growl he let out halted your movements. “I said I want to look at you, don’t you dare cover yourself from me.” Your hands reluctantly fell back to your sides. “Thata’ girl. Mmm those are some pretty panties you got on, omega. Look strangely like one of the pairs I picked out for you. Pink is definitely your color.”

You hadn’t even realized you had on the frilliest pair he had gotten you. It was a baby pink and brazilian cut, made of intricate lace that had small bows at the edges and the waistband was sparkly. It was definitely one of your cutest pairs and it was very comfortable. He definitely knew how to pick lingerie… and it just occurred to you he could most likely see how wet you were through the material.

“I love this pair. It’s one of my favorites.” You said, looking away from him after your admittance not wanting to see his the self satisfied grin you knew he was sporting.

“Show me how much you love them.”

You were confused. “I-I don’t understand..”

“You said you loved that pair.” He tilted his head condescendingly. “Show me how much you love them. Touch yourself while wearing them.”

You were speechless, your mouth agape as you looked at him in trepidation. “I uh, Minho I don’t, uh..”

The beta put both hands on the foot of the bed and leaned down so he was closer to you, “Didn’t you say you would be good and listen to me for fucking once?” You nodded hesitantly, biting your lip. “Then do as I say and rub your pussy through those cute little fucking panties.”

He stood again and gave you room, motioning for you to get on with it. You avoided eye contact as you took a deep breath and brought your hand to your center, gingerly running your fingertips along the soaked material hiding your core. You lightly dipped your finger into the fabric, teasing your hole then moved the digit up to your covered clit. Your chest was heaving as a moan left your lips. You touched the bundle again, this time there was more pressure that made your hips buck up into your hand. You heard him curse so you risked a quick look over to him and the sight was a spectacle to say the least.

The man had his pants unbuttoned and lowered to his mid thigh, and his big hand was palming the erection over his underwear. He never took his eyes off you, his eyes flickering between your face to watch your expressions then back down to your hand that played with yourself. You felt yourself gush more slick and you moaned, now finding a good rhythm on your clit.

The tension was so intense that you felt your high approaching in record time. Whispers of his name came from you and your tongue ran along your lips. “Min, Minho, I’m- m’ gonna..”

“You wanna cum, baby?” He was being patronizing, even as he gripped his member harder.

You nodded vehemently, right on the precipice. “Yes, yes!”

“That’s too fucking bad. Don’t you dare cum.”

You gasped when his other hand shot out and grabbed your wrist, halting your rubbing and ruining your orgasm. “Minho! What the fuck? Whyyyyy?!” There were tears welling on your lash line.

You always look so pretty when you cry

He laughed at your expression, “You think you get to cum just like that? Like you deserve to after the way you consistently defy me? Nuh uh, I think you gotta work for it a little more.” He let go of your wrist but remained leaning over you. “Start again, this time with more vigor.”

You wanted to protest, to refuse to adhere to his game- but you knew either way you would be doing as he commands. So with a wet pout your shaky fingers returned to the place between your thighs.

This time your touches were more delicate, but that wasn’t what Mihno was after. He shook his head at you, eyes narrowing at your almost defiance.

“Harder, omega. Rub her nice and good. I wanna see you squirm.”

Ah, now you knew the game he was playing. He wanted you to put on a show for him, so you would do exactly that.

You gave your clit a circling with your finger, then slipped it down your slit then back up again quickly. You felt yourself clench on nothing and more wetness left you, now it had completely drenched the fabric and was making you uncomfortable. Still, the sensations were delicious nonetheless.

All too quickly you were once again built back up and your orgasm was a few rubs away. You knew what you had to do to get what you needed.

“Minnnn,” You whined, looking right into his eyes now. “Please, wanna cum. Been good for you, please let me.”

He looked like he was thinking about it, and just as you thought he was going to grant your wish, he grabbed your hand again and made you stop. You let out a groan of frustration, tears now descending down your cheeks.

“Please stop teasing me! I can’t take it!”

“Or what? Gonna cry about it? Little crybaby omega, always blubbering. Well go ahead and cry for me. Let me see those pretty tears.” His voice was soft but his words were mean; the difference giving you whiplash and making you cry harder giving him exactly what he wanted.

Minho bit back a moan of satisfaction at the sight of your tears. He just loved to watch you cry, it made him even harder than he was before (as impossible as it seemed) and scratched the mild sadistic itch that laid within him. Soon he wanted to watch you cry while you sucked and gagged on his cock, but that would wait for another day.

You sniffled and sobbed, unable to contain the dam that had been broken while he cooed at you. Min shucked off his pants while you wiped your eyes, then he leaned over your body and caressed your now wet cheeks, smearing the wetness into your skin. You let out a wet squeal when you felt his tongue on your cheek as he lapped up your salty tears. He pulled back with a moan and his eyes shut.

“Such a good little omega, being so obedient for me.” He nuzzled into your neck, nipping at you with a purr. “I don’t even have to be an alpha to make you do as I say right now, hmm? You're so desperate for my dick you just give into my demands.”

One thing you noticed about Minho was that he had a strange complex about not being an alpha. He seemed to get upset when it was mentioned that he wasn’t one or when he couldn’t command the respect of one. And now he was even bringing it up in the bedroom.

‘Maybe that’s why he takes it so personally when I attempt to defy him.’ You thought to yourself but chose to not mention it outloud.

“How bad do you want to cum, omega?”

“So so bad!” You continued to cry, now your hands were on his chest tugging at his shirt, “Need it, Min.”

“As much as I like the sound of my name on your lips, I think I want you to call me something else.” He ground his hips against yours, “Call me ‘sir’.”

How mortifying. If you had known your snide comment would lead to this you would have never made it. But if you were being honest with yourself, you kind of liked it.

“Please sir.”

“Fucking hell.” That was the straw that broke the camel's back. The beta roughly shoved down your panties, the fabric was soaked and wanted to cling to your nether lips, there was a string of your arousal that came with the garment as it was removed from you.

The kisses you had shared before were child's play compared to the one he gave you now, the clashing of teeth and tongues making you feel lightheaded. Never would you have imagined the amount of passion and all consuming vigor that he would be able to channel into something as simple as a kiss, yet it had you careening into space at a devastating pace.

Minho's fingers wasted zero time in running his fingers through your slick then spreading it around your core, soaking your skin even more. A desperate whine burst from you into his mouth, tears still steadily leaking down your face as his fingers purposefully avoided your aching bundle.

“Please, please Minho. Need you to fuck me, I can’t take it.”

There was no better sound in the world than you begging for him, but you used the wrong name. He laid a sharp smack against your center, the wetness splashing with the contact. You let out a hiss at the pain.

“That’s not my name. Try again.”

Goddammit, he wasn’t going to let you off easy.

“Sir, need you. Need your cock, Sir please. Need to be filled by you.”

Minho quickly removed his boxers and threw them on the floor. Then he repositioned himself over you with a cocky smile. “Careful what you ask for, baby.”

He gave no warning before he plunged into you, filling you completely and bottoming out in one single thrust. Your eyes rolled into your head as you threw your head back with a deafening cry. “Nggggg oh my gooooood.”

“Holy fucking shit. Now I see what all the fuss is about.” He started to thrust into you at a punishing pace, his whole weight on top of you. “ You really do have the tightest and wettest pussy in the world. Can’t believe I waited so fucking long to fuck you.” He laid messy kisses to your neck, sucking harshly on the skin and adding his own marks to the ever growing collection.

Your hands were gripping his hair and you cried and moaned in his ear. Sighs and whimpers of ‘sir’ ‘s’good’ and ‘please’ leaving you and being music to his ears.

Minho sat back on his knees, taking his weight off of you and your hands scrambled out to him attempting to pull him back to you. You cried out at the sudden emptiness you felt when he pulled out with no warning.

“No sir! Don’t go!” Your blubbering started again, your emotions running high at the consistent denial. “M’ good f’ you! Please Sir, need you back in me.” You were crying harder than you had this whole day, begging for him.

Minho used his red tip to slap against your clit, a resounding wet ‘smack’ filling the room along with your cries. “Hear that? Here the way your pussy cries for me? The way even she begs to be filled? Don’t worry, omega. Sir will give her what she wants.”

It was humiliating; the way he addressed a part of your body as if it wasn’t attached to you, like your pussy was its own entity with its own consciousness. You wanted to cover your face and hide so you put your hands over your face.

“Don’t you fucking hide from me.” His growl was deep and menacing, his eyes narrowed at you. “You look at me when I fuck you.”

Still sitting back on his knees with his back straight, Minho grabbed your hips and lifted you up enough to haul your butt over his thighs to be flush on him, and rammed his member back into you.

This position allowed him to go even deeper than before, your eyes shot open and a scream left you at the pleasure. “Sir! Ngghhhgg fuck sir!” Your hands balled into fists as you held the sheets below you.

“Arch your back.” He demanded through his panting. You did as he said and it somehow made you feel even closer to him. “Mmmm there we go, nice and deep in there.” He began to sweat, the teasing and playing with you has finally caught up to him. His thumb went down to where the two of you met and he found your clit, rubbing hard and precise circles on your throbbing bud.

“Fuck! Oh my god! Min-Sir, need to cum, please please let me cum this time. Please.” You were crying and babbling so hard you started drooling, mouth and eyes alike leaking wetness that dripped down your face and onto the man's bed.

His thumb pressed even harder on your clit, and gave you a lusty look, with his eyes set on yours as you begged.

“Cum for me, omega. You’ve earned it.”

Immediately you let go, the cord inside finally getting permission to snap. Your essence gushed out of you and sprayed onto his shirt, soaking the fabric so much that if it were any other color than black Minho was sure it would stain.

Minho had never seen anyone cum so hard in his life, and it boosted his ego even more. It sent him hurdling quickly towards his own orgasm.

You were completely at his mercy, your mind was floating far from you and you let him manhandle you again, pushing your legs back as far as they could go by your head and he leaned back over you. His hips were snapping against you rigorously with his balls smacking your butt with each thrust.

You kept muttering little whispers of his name and ‘sir’ in his ear, your head falling to the side to show him your neck; a sign of utter submission. “Sir, bite.. Wan it…”

Every ounce of the betas self control was thrown out the window, your true omega self coming through as you surrendered to him being the final push. He buried his face onto the skin of your neck - though not your mating gland- and bit into you.

If you could describe it, his bite was like being doused in oil and set aflame; all consuming yet you welcomed the burn. You were shaking as you felt him deepen his bite, his teeth digging as far down as he could possibly get. He wanted his bite to leave a long lasting reminder of what happened here.

It was becoming too much for you, your core was clenching and spasming as you came for the second time in mere minutes. At the feeling of your palpitating walls clamped around him, Minho finally came with a snarling growl, teeth still latched onto you as his hips stuttered. Rope after rope of his burning hot cum entered you and filled you to the brim.

Minho finally let go of your neck with his teeth as he pulled back to look at you. Your eyes were droopy and your face was wet and your lips (along with your whole body) were trembling. You were a mess. A beautiful debauched mess. The most beautiful sight he had ever seen.

Min wasn’t looking much better. His skin had a sheen of sweat and his eyes were crazed. His mouth was dripping with your blood but he made no move to wipe it away.

There was a beat before either of you moved, though he could if he so desired, but Minho was beginning to become addicted to the way you felt wrapped around his length. He knew you probably couldn’t take any more at this time though. With a deep breath he slowly pulled out of you. You both could hear the squelch of your combined fluids cascading out of you like a waterfall.

You groaned when he exited you, your walls were so sensitive after the pounding he gave you.

“Shh baby, I know it hurts. You’re ok, omega.”His voice was soft and even as he petted your hair, “I’ll be right back, just take it easy for me.”

You whined again when the beta slipped off the bed, grabbing his boxes and leaving the room quickly. Only a few moments passed before he returned with a rag and a small first aid kit. In his absence he had cleaned the blood off his face. He approached you with a soft smile, “Hold still baby, need to clean you up.”

“Mhm” You mumbled, still clearly out of it.

Min first used the wet rag to clean you up between your legs, wiping you down of any left over cum and fluids. When he deemed you thoroughly cleaned he tossed the rag in the corner to deal with later. Then he brought out the antiseptic from the first aid kit. He dabbed a cotton pad in it then used it to dab at your fresh bite mark. You hissed at the sting, wanting to squirm away.

Minho cooed at you, “Nuh uh, gotta get the blood off so it doesn’t get infected. Lord only knows I’d never hear the end of it if it’s my bite that doesn’t heal.” He cynically murmured that last part but you still caught it, a little giggle coming from you as you slowly came too. “You did so good for me, ya know? Were the most perfect little omega.”

You purred at his praise, unable to stop the lovesick smile from etching into your lips. “Never thought I’d hear you say that.”

He scoffed lightly, not in malice but more so in disbelief. “ You’ve always been a perfect omega.” He finished cleaning your wound and put the kit to the side then he climbed on next to you.

He laid on his back and softly pulled you to rest on his chest as he pet your head. There was silence except for the sound of your breathing, but it wasn’t awkward. Oddly enough you found it comfortable as it gave you a moment to collect your thoughts. You imagined he was feeling similar.

You tentatively reached for his hand and he let you. He gave your hand a squeeze then loosened the hold, instead laying his hand flat against yours and comparing the difference in size. He played with them for a second, his fingers able to slightly curl over your tips.

“You have baby hands.”

You snorted at his sudden comment, then looked up at him to find him already gazing down at you. “Maybe that’s why you all call me baby.”

“Mmm” he hummed, still looking at you. “That among other things.”

“Like what?” You raised a brow curiously.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” He laughed when you whined, “Ok, fine. We call you baby because we cherish you. You’re something worth caring for.”

His words made you pause, your hand tightened its grip on his hand and your other one fisted his shirt. That definitely was not the answer you were expecting. You honestly thought he was going to say something like ‘you cry a lot’ or ‘you whine too much’ and had mentally prepared for that answer. To know the real answer was something so genuine and romantic made your heart pound. Your lip began to wobble and the tears gathered on your lashes.

“That, and you whine too much.”

“Minho!” You smacked his chest lightly as he laughed. You were still crying and he brought a hand up to wipe it off your face.

“Aww don’t cry, baby.” He was cooing at you, “You’re gonna make me hard again.”

You brushed his hand away and buried your face in his chest. “Stooooop. You’re not funny.”

“Who’s joking?”

Your whole body heated from your bout of shyness and you refused to leave the safety of his chest, since you knew for a fact he would have that cute stupid smug look on his stupidly cute face.

“I couldn’t go again right now even if I wanted to. My body is exhausted.” Your words were muffled but he still heard them, bringing that cocky smirk to his face.

“So,” here we go, “ you’re saying I fucked you so good you physically can’t take anymore?”

“You are the worst!” You whined, shoving him but laughing all the same.

There was another pause. Min still never stopped his delicate touches on your head. Then he broke the silence again.

“You don’t really think I’m the worst, do you?” His voice was soft yet even, as if he was trying not to show too much emotion at the question, though you could tell this was something he was self conscious over.

“Oh Minho,” You lifted your head up to look into his eyes, though he refused to meet yours, instead staring straight ahead. “No, of course not. Not a single one of us thinks that.” Your hand went up to his chin, trying to tilt his face down so he could look at you.

“It’s not a secret I’m a little opinionated and hyphy. I know my attitude isn’t everyone's cup of tea. I mean, look at us, it took us how long to get here?”

“But we made it here!” You wanted to protest but still kept your tone light. “Min, the pack cares so deeply for you. They hold the utmost respect for you and love you.” You took a deep breath and closed your eyes tight. “And so do I.”

Silence

“Look at me.”

You shook your head, refusing his request.

“You’re going to have to look at me. Especially if you’re going to give me a claiming bite.”

That made you snap your eyes open. The beta sported a toothy grin, his beautiful bunny teeth on display for you.

“You-you want my bite too?” You sniffled, wiping your eyes again.

“Well, if not from the girl I love then who?” He was being WAY too casual about it but at the same time you could see the pink dusting on his cheeks. “Unless you don’t want to.”

“Minho” you blubbered into him again. You turned your body to be chest to chest with him and you threw your arms around him. “I want to! Wanna make you mine too, please!”

“Ok ok, baby don’t cry it’s alright.” He sat up higher so his back was against the headboard. He pulled you to climb into his lap fully, and you straddled his lap. He tilted his head to show more of his neck and he cradled you against him. “Be gentle with me, it’s my first time.”

Of course he had to make a joke out of it.

You chose to ignore his jest- though you did roll your eyes- and you started peppering his neck with little kisses. You wanted him to truly feel your love for him. He sighed in contentment and rubbed circles into your back. With your lips you mapped out the spot you would claim him then once your inner omega deemed it the perfect spot you bit down on him.

He twitched from the sensation, a quiet moan rumbling out of his throat and his hand finding your head, knotting in your hair and pressing you even harder into him. It’s as if he wanted you to bite down harder. You did as your instincts told you and bit with more force.

After lapping at the wound you remove yourself from him. Minho let you go as he found his breath, panting and eyes fluttering. His cheeks were beet red and his hair had fallen in his face. Honestly, he looked more fucked out now than he did after actually fucking. And he had never looked better.

Minho hugged you tight, then kissed you sweetly and got his own blood on his mouth but he didn’t seem to care. “Good girl.”

A little chirp escaped you, you were clearly very pleased with the turn of events. And so was Minho. After you helped him clean the bite and wiped up the blood the two of you snuggled on his bed together and talked. It was still hard for him to open up, but he did give you some insight into his brain about how he feels. In return you did the same. It was much overdo and very therapeutic for the both of you.

After another hour you heard the front door open and a cacophony of voices entered the house. Minho groaned when he heard it, “The idiots are back.” You laughed and rolled off of his chest. He picked up his forgotten phone and saw it was already late into the evening. “Ah shit, I have to start dinner.”

You whined and made grabby hands at him as he got off the bed. “Do you have too? I wanna cuddle some more.”

He grabbed his pants off the floor and slipped them back on, “Yes omega, someone has to feed the children. And I need to talk to Chan.” After his pants were back on he felt something small and hard in his pocket. He stuck his hand in and pulled out the little trinket he had gotten for you earlier in the day. “Though I have something to keep you company.” He handed you the little pink cat.

You squealed and pulled it up to your face to analyze it with a beaming smile. “How CUTE! Thank you so much!!”

He just pecked your cheek in response.

“Take all the time you want here baby. But soon Channie will probably come looking for you.”

You huffed and laid back on his bed. You were not excited for that conversation.

Chan watched as Minho hauled you off in the direction of his car. He had no idea what had occurred but he wanted to get to the bottom of it. He could smell the distress that radiated out of you and it made him wary and irate.

‘Today was supposed to be a good day, what the fuck happened?’

The alpha stalked off in search of Changbin. He offered people polite hellos and smiles to all the people who greeted him. He was a pillar in this town and needed to act like it especially in public. He found the younger alpha striding away from the games area with a frustrated furrow in his brow.

“Changbin.” Chan called to him and waved him over. He took notice of how Changbins face fell slightly at the sight of the elder, and he knew it to be a sign that something definitely went wrong here today. Changbin went over to Chan- albeit slowly- and came to stand in front of him. “Hey man, what is going on? I just ran into Min and baby and he said to come find you.”

Changbin bit his lip and blinked back the tears. Chan hadn’t seen him this emotional in a long time so he knew something was up.

“Hyung, I think I made a big mistake.”

Minho went down to the kitchen first. He took some meat out from the fridge and set it on the counter to rest then he went to find the alpha. It didn’t take long as Chan was looking for him too.

“Min.” He beckoned him to his office. Chan's face may have been hard to read but his eyes were steely. Once the door was closed he turned to the beta. “You saw him grab her?”

Minho nodded, “Yes.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes Chan.” The beta clicked his tongue as he recalled it in his mind. “ He had his filthy hand on her arm and he tried to get her to go with him.”

“And she was scared?”

Minho nodded again. “Terrified. She didn’t want anything to do with him. If you had seen it you would have ripped his head off.”

The alpha growled “If it was me there then there wouldn't be a head left to rip off. I’m surprised you didn’t take a swing yourself.”

Min huffed, “There were a lot of people around. Though I was ready to put him in the ground if he didn’t back down.”

“Wooyoung… The name is familiar but I can’t place my finger on it.” Chan started pacing as he racked his brain.

“Changbin had been talking about him a lot. He was so happy to have made a new friend he wouldn’t shut up about it.” Minho rolled his eyes in distaste, “He didn’t know the guy would turn out to be a piece of shit.”

“But you knew, didn’t you?” Chan asked. “Bin said you could tell but you didn’t say anything.”

“I knew there was something funky about him, but I wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt for Changbins sake.” Chan nodded at the betas words. Then he just had to ask. He smirked a little, “So what happened with you and omega after you got home?” He could clearly see the brand new claiming bite on the betas neck.

“Nothing much, we just worked out our differences.” He gave him a cheeky wink in return though he felt his face heat up. “Anyways, where is Bin? I didn’t hear him come in and usually he’s the first one I hear.”

Chan sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “He didn’t come home with us. He’s too ashamed of himself and said he wanted to walk home to think about how clueless he was.”

“How hard were you on him?”

“Well I wasn’t sunshine and daisies. But everything I said to him he had already been thinking to himself. He was definitely beating himself up over it.”

“Did you give him a punishment?” Chan nodded at the question. “What is it? Is it that he can’t touch Y/n like you did with Felix?”

“Worse.”

“Worse? What could be worse than that?”

“I took his car keys and forbade him from going to the gym for a week.”

“Oh my god he’s never going to come home.”

You didn’t come out immediately. You wanted to have a few moments to yourself to collect yourself and your thoughts. Eventually you knew you needed to make an appearance. You pulled on one of Minhos shirts that you took from his closet as you exited his room. You missed your boys and wanted to spend some time with them. You padded into the living room to find the four youngest boys sitting on the couches holding beers and laughing with each other.

Jisung was the first to notice you, yelling when you walked in the room. “There's my baby!” He was obviously drunk already, his eyes having trouble focusing on you as he giggled. “Come here gorgeous.”

“Hi Ji.” You giggled and walked over to him. He grabbed you and yanked you onto his lap, tickling you more when you laughed. “No no no!”

“Sungie don’t hog!” Felix whined from his place next to Jisung. “It’s not fair you’ve spent so much time with baby!”

“Not true! I have barely seen her!”

“Jisung, you literally had your tongue in her pussy this morning.” Seungmin deadpanned from across the room. “That’s more than we’ve had in days.”

Jeongin and Felix laughed as Jisung pouted, still holding on to you. You on the other hand were mortified.

“Don’t talk about me like I’m just a piece of meat for you to consume!”

That made all four of them burst out laughing at your plight.

“Aww baby, we know you're not just something to eat.” Felix cooed and unhooked Jisungs arms from you and hauled you onto his own lap. “We just all wanna spend time with you.” Then he leaned into your ear and lowered his voice. “Though, if eating you out was an option right now I’d happily take it. I’m starving.”

You shivered at his husky and seductive voice in your ear. “Lixie..”

“But by the way you smell and who’s shirt you're wearing.. Not to mention this new bite mark on your neck- I’d say Min already had a taste today.”

“Stop it you!” You whined and pushed at his chest while he and the other boys cackled. “Since when are you the dirty one?!”

“M’ just teasing you baby. I’m happy you and Min made up. Now we can all be one big happy family.” He nuzzled into you.

At the mention of his name the beta appeared from the kitchen, wiping his hands on a kitchen towel. “Quit being literal menaces to society and go set the table. Dinner is done.”

The three boys around you groaned and got to their feet and shuffled to the dining room. You went to follow but were held back by Felix. “Lix we gotta help.”

“Nah they got it. Just want a minute alone with my love.” He kissed you tenderly and you reciprocated. This boy was too sweet to refuse him. “Mm I love you baby.”

“I love you too Lixie.” You kissed him again and he smiled against your lips.

“Felix! Come help!”

“Oop! Gotta go baby or he’s gonna cook me next.”

You made your way to the table to see Chan and the other boys (minus Felix) all helping and sitting down. Chan smiled at you as you entered the room, reaching a hand out for you. You grabbed on to it and let him pull you into a kiss.

“Hi baby. Are you feeling better?”

You nodded, “Yes Channie. Min took good care of me and I feel much better.”

“Min? We left you with Binnie, didn’t we?” Hyunjin asked, looking at the youngest boy for confirmation. “Were you that sick you had to come home?”

“Oh uh, well-” You stuttered but were cut off.

“You moron, don’t mention Changbin right now. There's a reason he’s not here.” Seungmin scoffed, picking up some food and serving it on his plate.

It was then you noticed there was one empty seat at the table. Changbin had not come home. Chan noticed how forlorn you looked when you saw the empty chair. He cleared his throat to get everyone's attention. “We are not having this conversation right now. Changbin is not here on his own volition. That is all you need to know right now.” He was using his alpha voice to make his point known and they all nodded in understanding.

No one brought it up again for the whole of dinner. They all carried on like nothing happened at all. Everyone except you. You couldn’t stop staring at the empty space at the table, and feeling guilty. You wished Changbin was here. You wanted to hold him and hear his loud contagious laughter. Your heart felt heavy with him being gone. Chan noticed your mood- of course he did- but he didn’t want to bring it up any further at the dinner table.

Instead he waited until the dinner was complete. As soon as you were done eating he stood from his spot at the head of the table and came to your side. He scooped you into his arms, chuckling when you shrieked. “Hush now. I need my omega now.”

The other guys hooted and hollered at you both as he carried you up the stairs.

“Channie.. I’m too sensitive down there right now.” You murmured, your face aflame.

He plopped you on his bed, then sat down next to you. “Oh baby, I know Min probably did some work on your poor kitty huh?” You nodded, and tried to hide your embarrassment. “We do need to talk, though my love. I need to know exactly what happened and what that bastard said to you.”

As much as you didn’t want too, you knew your alpha needed to hear it from your own lips. So with a deep breath and a lot of tears, you recounted the experience. From start to finish he just let you talk. He was patient when you got choked up at the part about being grabbed, even though you could feel the rage that brewed inside of him at the thought of a man outside our pack laying a finger on you.

If there was one thing Chan knew for certain, it was that someday soon, Wooyoung would pay for his indecencies. He would make sure of that.

Comments and reblogs are very much appreciated!

Also if any one wants to chat about the story or share predictions please send me an ask!!

Beta read by my loves @ayejaii and @jehhskz <3

©doitforbangchan

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beesspacedotorg · 2 days

Text

Honeysuckle, Honey Boy, Honey Sweet

Summary: You take care of your Beta during his rut, and he's sweet as can be.

Warning: OMEGAVERSE !!!1!!1! sex. gender neutral reader. nothing too crazy for this one. hyune is sweet and subby because this is my house I make the rules. you don't have to read Dibs or Third Leg to understand what's going on, but it would make me happy. special thanks to ems for reading this and letting me know if it was bars. and for letting me steal the honey boy nickname

notes: hello adoring public. this is the third part of the dibsverse. this is what happens when you're insane. I had intended to post this in March and then forgot. Oopsie. I hope you enjoy it and have fun reading it the way I had fun imagining Hwang Hyunjin sweaty and naked.

You love your Hyunjin, your honey boy. That’s how you refer to him in your head, as yours. In all reality, you share him with the pack, but he holds a special place in your heart. He found you first, he kissed you first, he was your first in this pack for many things. You two are laying together, curled up on his bed watching some Business Proposal for what feels like the hundredth time.

“He looks a little like Seungmin,” is what you say and he rolls his eyes.

“You say that every time.”

“It’s not my fault. He does. Also, the glasses thing is hot.” Hyunjin huffs at you.

“I wear glasses.” He sounds like he’s pouting. You turn your head to the side and see that he is.

“Are you … Hwang Hyunjin, are you jealous? Of Cha Sunghoon?” You pause the show. Hyunjin presses his palms into his eyes and sighs.

“No. Well. Maybe.” You frown at him, it’s not like him to be jealous. He’s so full of love for everyone and everything, and you know that the pack would bend over backwards to make sure he feels cared for so this has to be something specific.

“Hyunnie. What’s wrong?”

“I think my cycle is going to start soon.” You hum at him.

“What’s it feel like?” Hyunjin is a Beta, so while his cycles may be mild, he’s subjected to either heats or ruts depending on who he’s around. Your pack has a considerable amount of Omegas, and you know that Changbin’s cycle throws him all over the place depending on who he spends more time around during that period, but you aren’t sure how Hyunjin’s works. The two of you have been together for a while, but his cycle is slower than most, so he hasn’t yet had anything.

“A rut, I think.” You hum again.

“Is that why you’re needlessly jealous over me thinking a fictional character is hot?”

“I’m not jealous-”

“You most certainly are.”

“Fine, I’m not jealous of Cha Sunghoon.”

“Better. Who are you jealous of then, baby?” He hides his face in a pillow and says something that you don’t hear.

“What?” You raise your voice a little, poking his side until he answers you.

“I’m jealous of Seungmin.” That makes you still.

“Seungminnie? What- why?” Hyunjin crosses his arms.

“You keep talking about how hot he is!”

“Well, what do you want me to do, be blind?”

“No, I just-” Hyunjin flops himself over in bed so he’s not facing you anymore, and you can tell from the way his sweet honeysuckle turns into rot that he’s not happy. You lay down beside him and wrap your arms around his back.

“Honey boy. What is it you want me to do?”

“Will you spend it with me?”

“Yeah, I will. Don’t worry.” You kiss the back of his neck, his long hair tickling your nose. “Anything for you, baby.”

Felix drapes himself along your back while you’re in the kitchen.

“Hi.”

“Hello, Yongbokkie. What’s up?”

“Hyunjinnie smells like he’s close.”

“Does he?” Your tone is tinged with sarcasm. Hyunjin hasn’t let you out of his sight for very long since you agreed, getting more and more possessive as it gets closer to the start of his cycle. You don’t mind, but you’re also more aware than anyone else how close he is, all things considered. Felix bites you in retaliation for your snark.

“Mean.”

“Captain obvious.”

“What are you doing in here? All by your lonesome.” Felix’s hands start wandering and you laugh a little at him.

“I was going to see if we had enough food, but it seems our Luna took care of that already. So, I’m making a snack instead.” Felix starts to slide his hands under your shirt, mouthing at your neck.

“That’s crazy. I could be your snack instead.” You burst into laughter, shaking him off a little.

“That’s the corniest thing I’ve ever heard in my life, and Changbin took me on a date last week.” You hear a half-hearted yell from the living room that makes you snort.

“So… is that a no?” Felix’s hands are resting on your hips, and you feed him a bit of your snack when he hooks his chin over your shoulder.

“That is a no.” Felix huffs, letting go of you to throw a fake fit behind you.

Felix pretends to throw things around the kitchen, ranting about spoiled Omegas and how they don’t know how to please their Alphas anymore. Something you find extremely ironic, because Felix is an Omega. You’re in the middle of laughing at him when Hyunjin comes in, hair wet from his shower. He gives you a backhug, water droplets falling on you.

“Hi, baby.”

“Hi, Hyunnie. How was your shower?”

“Would’ve been better if you were in it.” You hear Felix gag. Hyunjin flips him off.

“That’s what she said.” You can’t help yourself, giggling at your own joke. Hyunjin takes Felix’s place in your neck.

“Lee Felix Yongbok.” You hear Felix snicker.

“Yeah?” He’s wormed his way between you and the counter to stare Hyunjin in the eye. He’s also in the way of your snack.

“You’re doing this on purpose.”

“Doing what? I’m not doing anything.” Felix smiles, sweet and deceiving, before he wraps his arms around your waist and gets nose-to-nose with Hyunjin.

“I’m telling Channie hyung.” Felix shrugs. Hyunjin’s scent changes so something a little tangier and you can picture him squinting his eyes. “I’m telling Minho.” Felix pulls away almost immediately.

“Hyunjinnie, you’re so mean to me.”

“You’re riling me up on purpose!” Lavender hits your nose before Hyunjin is done speaking.

“Speak of the devil,” you mumble. Felix is still in the way of your snack.

“Yongbokkie,” you know that coo. Felix is fucked.

“Hi, hyung.”

“Are you teasing our Hyunjinnie?”

“I would never.”

“Liar,” Felix has finally moved away from your food. You shove some of it in your mouth when you snitch on him.

“Hey!” He says that, but he’s following where Minho is dragging him with little to no resistance.

“Send me pictures, please.”

“Perv.”

“Sky is blue, grass is green.” Hyunjin grumbles some more as the resident cats of the house leave the kitchen. You feed him.

“Do you want to go to my room, dove?” His voice is quiet, sleepy.

“Yeah. Let’s lay down, hmm?”

You like Hyunjin’s room. The walls are painted a calming shade of periwinkle and they’re decorated with pictures of the pack and paintings he made. His desk is covered in half finished sketchbooks and paints. If you look at his easel, there’s a half drawn portrait of you with a picture you don’t remember him taking attached to it.

He’s also in there, which is nice.

He’s woken you up from a nap, hips rutting against your ass and sweat dripping onto your skin.

“Hyune?” Your voice is crackly and groggy with sleep, you think you might have sweat through your shirt, and there’s a pillow crease on your cheek.

“Baby,” he lets out a whine and something in you cracks a little.

“Hey, hmm? What’s wrong?” You turn around to cup his cheeks, and he leans his head into them. You know what’s wrong, so the question is a little redundant, but you ask anyway. Not that it matters, because instead of answering he hikes your leg over his hip and grinds against you in a way that’s dirty and draws noises out of you that you know you’re going to get shit for later.

“Hyunjin, sweetheart, let’s get these off, yeah?” You move to pull away and his grip tightens on you in a way that’s almost painful, an arm coming up under your body to wrap around your waist. He lets out a short growl, and then his eyes widen at himself.

“Okay, yeah. That’s fine. We can stay like this.” His hips pick back up, and you know without a doubt that these sleep shorts and underwear are going straight in the trash when you’re done. Well, maybe not straight. Han Jisung and Lee Felix are freaks.

You let him rut against you messily, kissing his face and his mouth when you can. He’s stronger than he looks, and you aren’t doing anything to fight back, so his motions are rocking you up the bed.

He lets out another whine when he comes, face red and sweaty and the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. He’s finally still, and you can feel every place where your body fluids are cooling down and it’s largely unpleasant. Hyunjin seems to agree because he starts shoving at the clothes he’s wearing angrily. You grab his hands.

“Hey, hey, Hyunjinnie. Let me help, yeah? Let me help and then you can finally fuck me. Isn’t that what you want?” You get to watch his pupils dilate in real time, plush lips falling open as his jaw drops. He’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. You want to eat him alive. You take off his clothes and yours, dropping the soiled clothes somewhere on the floor because Hyunjin doesn’t seem to care what happens to them right now.

You and him have fucked, to be sure. After everything with Minho, there isn’t a moment where you aren’t being propositioned by someone in the pack. You’ve never seen him like this though, flushed and sweaty, out of it with rut. For a second, you’re worried he might have rut fever, but he can still understand you when you talk to him, and he still kisses back when you press your lips to him, so he’s fine.

“Dove,” his voice is scratchy with disuse and something else.

“Hmm?”

“Want in, please, let me. Lemme,” his hands are pawing at your hips desperately. You lace your fingers through his hair and pull his head back, kissing his neck.

“Calm down. I’ve gotta get ready first. You don’t wanna hurt me, do you?” He shakes his head as best he can through the grip you have on his hair. “That’s what I thought. My honey boy doesn’t wanna hurt his precious Omega, right?” You shift so you’re straddling him, seating yourself right above his cock. You know he can feel where you’re leaking and wet for him. You know what you’re doing is mean, but he already came once, you can have some fun.

“Hyunjinnie,” you let go of his hair to rest your hands on his chest, sliding yourself along his cock. “You feel so nice like this, maybe I won’t even let you inside.” He pouts, eyes furrowing in that cute way of his, bottom lip jutting out and you kiss it.

“I’m kidding.”

“Better be.”

You get yourself off like that, sliding along his cock, letting the tip graze your hole for just a second, just to tease. Hyunjin comes too, a second time, adding to the slick mess on his stomach. He’s whining now, hands grabbing everywhere he can reach, your chest, your ass, your neck, but he hasn’t made any move to force you despite his rut. He’s dirty, your boy.

You know that you wouldn’t be getting away with this if it wasn’t Hyunjin. You know that if you were with any of the Alpha’s during their ruts or Changbinnie or the Omega’s you would’ve been pinned to the bed and stuffed full by now. The knowledge gives you a bit of a head rush. That Hyunjinnie wants you to make him beg a little for what he wants, that he trusts you to take care of him when he’s too out of it to take care of himself. You lean forward and kiss him, all tongue and teeth and filthy.

“Dove, please.” He says this against your mouth, one hand coming up to the back of your head, the other gripping your wrist where it still sits on his chest. You can feel how his grip tightens and loosens periodically, and you appreciate the effort he’s making to not hurt you.

You lean back and this time, this time, you let him sink into you, sliding down down down until you’re at the hilt, sitting prettily on his hips. The noise he lets out is music to your ears, but it’s loud. You hum, rocking against him while he squirms under you.

“Hyunjinnie, baby.”

“Mm?” He peeks his eyes open, god, he’s a vision. Pretty brown eyes blown wide, mouth kiss bruised and open just enough that his pretty tongue is peeking out just a little. His hair is sweat slick just like the rest of him and it’s plastered to his face in some areas.

“Open your mouth for me, honey.” He does, a little confused, but sweet like always. You shove two of your fingers in his mouth and watch as his eyes roll back in his head and his hips buck up into you.

He’s groaning as he sucks on your fingers, treating them the way he would a cock, and you throb at the visual. He’s wrapped his own long fingers around your wrist, moving your hand in and out of his mouth himself. You use a little force to make him gag on them, just because, and the moan he grants you with has you feeling dizzy.

“Honey boy,” You keep your fingers in his mouth as you return your focus to riding him. “Such a pretty boy. Pretty cock too, yeah?” You hook your fingers behind his teeth and yank his jaw open. He has such a pretty mouth. Maybe after his ruts over you’ll play with it. Run the pads of your fingers over his teeth and along his tongue. Push your fingers back until he gags on them, hold them there for good measure. Watch as his drool runs down his face and off your wrist before teasing him for making such a mess.

“Should I get one of the Alpha’s in here? Hmm? Let you choke on their cocks while I ride you silly? Or maybe I should bring in Changbinnie? He stretches your jaw out so nice, doesn’t he?” You feel Hyunjin’s dick kick inside you, but he shakes his head anyway.

“No, you don’t want that?” He grabs your wrist to pull your fingers free and you oblige.

“No, want,” he sucks in a shaky breath when you wipe his spit on his cheek, “just want you.”

If he wasn’t high off brain chemicals, you’d accuse him of flirting with you. You know that he’s not running game, just being honest and sweet, but something in your chest flutters and seizes, causing you to stop your movements.

“Hyunjin,” you didn’t think you’d cry this time. Absolutely certain that you could avoid it if you were taking the lead. He lets out a whine like he’s been hurt and reaches up to wipe the tears off your cheeks.

“Dove?” He sounds panicked, and you kiss him to shut him up. You know he’s been thrown for a loop by your tears, worried he’s hurt you or underperforming in some way, not with it enough to know that you’re crying because you’re in love with him.

“You’re a charmer, aren’t you, Jinnie?” You sniff slightly and pat his shoulder. “I’m getting tired, why don’t you finish the job, hmm?” He goes to turn you over and you pinch his arm. “Like this. I like the way you look under me.” You smile salaciously at him and he ducks his head a little, suddenly shy. You stay where you are, nose-to-nose with him so you can kiss him when you please and lift your knees a little so he has room to play, and he takes it.

He’s sloppy and uncoordinated, but that doesn’t stop him from shifting around until he’s found an angle that has you moaning almost as loud as he is. It makes him smirk, all self satisfied and cocky, before you yank his hair a little and he loses it.

“‘S good.” He’s cute like this, moaning and whining about how hot and wet you are around him.

“Yeah? Just a little more and you’ll make me come too.” He groans. “You want that? Want me to come on your cock?” He nods fervently and his thrusts get faster. You lean down so your lips are pressed against his ear and you can feel his sweat slicked chest gliding against yours.

“Or, maybe you want me to come on your knot. C’mon, honey boy. Let me have it. Your Omega wants it so bad.”

He growls this time, yanking you down by the hips while he fucks up into you, forcing his knot inside your heat. He’s a Beta, so admittedly his knot isn’t as big as an Alpha’s is, but you moan and come on it just like you said you would.

“More.” He reaches his hand between the two of you and places it where you’re sensitive and swollen.

“Hyunnie, what?”

“One more. One more, c’mon.” His spare hand comes up to rest inbetween to shoulder blades, forcing your chest down against him. Between that and his knot you’re stuck

“You motherfucker-”

“Please,” his voice is deep and low and right in your ear. He lets out a groan when the way he’s touching you has him clenching on his knot.

“Hwang Hyunjin-” Your threat is too breathy to have any bite.

“You said you’d do it, you have to.” It doesn’t seem to dawn on him that you came when he did, or if it did he doesn’t care because he keeps up the stimulation until you fall apart on top of him again, walls fluttering along his cock, teeth biting just shy of his scent gland.

When you come back to yourself, he’s pressing kisses on your shoulder.

“You’re a shithead.” You tell him this softly, while running your fingers along the side of his face. He grumbles in response.

“You bit me.”

“Deserved.”

You stop scolding him to kiss him again. It’s not your fault his mouth is so kissable.

“You feel better, honey boy?”

“I feel tired.”

“Good.” He rolls the two of you over until you’re on your side, eyes closing. “Hey.”

“What?”

“Open your mouth.” He squints at you.

“Why?”

“I wanna see it.”

“You’re a freak.” He drops his jaw anyway.

(Halfway through your in depth exploration of his molars your phone buzzes. It’s Minho, with pictures of Felix fucked out and crying.

“Who?” Your fingers are still in Hyunjin’s mouth so it comes out muffled. You show him your phone as you take them out.

“Lixie got his just desserts.”

“You can be my dessert.”

“Corny.” You let him roll you onto your back anyway.)

#bee blurbs #ft.hyunnie #dibsverse #a bee o #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x you #hyunjin smut #hwang hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin x you #hwang hyunjin smut #skz smut #skz x reader #skz x you

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merbear25 · 2 days

Note

Monster trio making their S/O cry, because they hurt her feelings or physically hurt her, why did they make her cry and what’s their reaction?

Hello! This sparked some inspiration, so I hope the creativity that flowed through my fingers is to your liking! I decided to make these all accidental situations because I personally can’t see them intentionally hurting their s/o. Thank you for sending in this request.💜💜

CW: gn!reader, fluff, some angst, headcanons/scenario

Accidentally hurting their s/o (Monster trio)

Luffy: He never did have much of a filter when it came to expressing himself. Although that was one of the things you loved about him, you were well aware of how harsh his comments could be. There weren’t really any times you were caught in the crossfire with them, though. You seemed to navigate through conversations well with everyone (not just him).

However, there was one particular day when he was in a generally sour mood. Without you realizing this, you made an off-handed comment that led to him biting your head off. Visibly hurt by his reaction, he instantly regretted snapping at you. His apologies first came out awkward as he stumbled with his words, but despite that, he was truly sorry.

Wiping away the few tears that had built up in your eyes, you forgave him because you knew it wasn’t done intentionally. Still feeling bad about having upset you, he pulled you into a hug, wrapping his arms around you tightly. With you in his embrace, he started peppering your face with kisses, earning a few giggles from you.

Zoro: You knew what he was about from day one: an ambitious man with dreams that he’d never be willing to put on hold. Even though you never sought to change this aspect of him, you had a wish - one that you yourself labeled as selfish - that he’d spend less time perfecting his skills and more time with you.

You tried suggesting something to do together, but it didn’t really suit his mood for that day. Having been rejected, albeit done softly and without malice, you still took it to heart. Letting your emotions bubble out of you through slight tears, the build-up from the past few weeks was too much to hold back. Seeing your heart-wrenching display, he did his best to calm you down and find out what the matter was.

As you explained the cascading sorrow, he listened intently so as not to misinterpret. He lifted your hands to his lips, placing a firm yet tender kiss on them as he soothed your woes. A compromise needed to be made to ensure you could have more quality time without it hindering any goals he’d set for himself. With a subtle smile tugging at your lips, he pulled you closer and gently pecked a kiss on your temple.

Sanji: He was a very careful and attentive man. The moments that you had hiccups in the relationship were few and far between seeing as he was so eager to please you and make you happy. He was, however, excitable and as adorable as that trait was, he tended to flail his arms around sometimes while still holding a lit cigarette.

Although you warned him time and time again to be more careful, he would still occasionally forget about it. With so much having happened on the Sunny, what with the success the crew had just had, there was so much energy coursing through everyone. As you were coming up from behind, Sanji enthusiastically waved his hands, making the one holding the lit cigarette collide with yours. Though brief, you grunted from the sudden discomfort and promptly tugged your hand away.

When he realized what he’d done, he was left groveling at your feet, holding you tightly and begging for forgiveness—while also sobbing that he didn’t deserve any. You held onto him, telling him that it was an honest mistake and not to fret about it. The reassurance in your voice, knowing that it was just a quick brush, made him feel so unworthy to be with you. You could expect him to continue making it up to you for the rest of your days.

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hopelesslydevoted2paige · 2 days

Note

hey babe!! can you do an Emily x actress!reader, where Emily, reader, and their friends are watching readers new movie (or show it doesn't matter) and there's a scene where readers crying, and Emily gets kinda upset because she doesn't like seeing reader upset? 💗

ON-SCREEN || EMILY ENGSTLER

summary: emily gets a little protective while watching the new series that you star in

pairings: emily engstler x actress!reader

word count: 311

warnings: none

author’s notes: hi anon thanks for this request!! i loove this idea, hope u enjoy!!

“Come on guys! I wanna see what happens in the next episode!” Your friend, Alara groaned.

“Alright alright!” You giggled, pulling Emily towards the couch.

“Finally!” Alara grabbed the remote and pressed play.

“Not everyone’s superhuman like you, Alara.” Emily rolled her eyes, wrapping an arm around your shoulder as you leaned your head on her shoulder.

Alara gave her a dirty look before focusing on the screen.

You chuckled, already used to their banter.

A few minutes into the episode, things got heated quickly. Your character was yelling at her now, ex-boyfriend with tears in her eyes.

“You swore you loved me!” Your character yelled. You had to cover your face in your hands to stop yourself from laughing, feeling the embarrassment from watching yourself on the screen.

Emily frowned once your character’s ex slammed the door while you leaned against the wall, sobbing.

She couldn’t help but bring you closer, rubbing circles on your arm.

You looked up to see her reaction and maybe even tell her how you filmed that same scene 5 times. Instead, you saw the frown on her face and the way her eyes dropped.

You furrowed your brows in confusion and poked her arm. “You okay?” You whispered.

Emily looks at you and nods, but you could tell it was forced.

You slowly sit up, pulling away from her arms and facing her. “There’s something.”

Emily sighs, shaking her head. “It’s nothing really. It’s stupid.” She opens her arms, waiting for you to crawl back in.

You lean on her shoulder as she wraps her arms around you. “It’s not stupid.”

“I just don’t like seeing you cry, that’s all.” She holds you in her arms tighter, seeking comfort.

You grin. “You’re so cute.”

She nudges you playfully. “You’re just a really good actor. I don’t know how this is supposed to be fake.”

“Are you guys even watching?” Alara gives the two of you a weird look.

You grumble. “We really need to get you a boyfriend.”

#emily engstler x reader #emily engstler #emily engstler fluff #emily engstler wnba #wnba #wnba x reader #wnba imagine #wnba basketball #wnba players #washington mystics #wcbb #wlw

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ponderingmoonlight · 1 day

Text

Saving Genya from his big brother only to make out with Sanemi

Pairing: Sanemi x fem!reader

Word Count: 2,9k

Synopsis: It was never an easy job, being the only one who's able to calm the wind hashira down. There was never more than respect and understanding between both of you. Until you bodly decided to stand up for Genya, until Sanemi finally reveals his true feelings...

Warnings: We're talking about Sanemi so language at violence lol, aggressive making out

I love love love Sanemi and I desperately hope you do as well hehe, enjoy and leave a comment/like/reblog <3

There he stands with his hot temper filling the air and his ruthless beatings torturing the poor souls in front of you. Hashira training never sounded like fun to you, especially when you consider who you’d have to deal with.

Sanemi Shinazugawa, especially.

“Get back up, brat. We’re not finished yet.”

You watch from afar as he hits the poor red-haired poor over and over again. Without any mercy, without the slightest hint of regret. And still, you can’t help but ponder about the way his arms flex and show every vein that decorates his skin. How he moves so effortlessly that your eyes are almost unable to follow. No, it’s not a secret that apart from being a madman, Sanemi Shinazugawa is hot as hell.

And your crush since you joined the demon slayer corps.

“Don’t you think that’s enough for today? The poor boy isn’t even able to stand up straight anymore”, you interfere when he’s about to hit him once again.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realize you were the expert on disciplining. How about me fetching you a chair so you can supervise more comfortably?”

All pairs of eyes are set on you while you step towards the scene in death silence. Apart from everyone else, you aren’t here to train under Sanemi. No, you are a very capable demon slayer yourself, so good that you even managed to beat Mitsuri from time to time. You definetely don’t need Sanemi to train.

In fact, you are here because you’re the only one who is able to tame him apart from Kagaya-sama himself.

"Well, if you ask me so nicely, a chair actually doesn’t sound bad for the next time. Meanwhile, how about we wrap this up? Enough's enough."

Sanemi’s venomous eyes meet yours, tempting you to lose your cool. Within the past few months, you’ve learned how to act around him and that his actions don’t reflect his true feelings at all. Deep within, he is the most caring and compassionate person you’ve ever met, so tender that you’d simply melt away in his touch. He never failed to protect you even if not needed, always made sure you are save before looking out for himself. Damn, he even left his desert for you to eat.

But on the other hand, he’s very good at hiding that side of him.

“Fine. Call it quits for today then. But we two will have a talk later”, he finally mutters before turning around and disappearing without any trace.

Your heart skips a few beats before you’re able to think straight again. Oh, how much you adore him. Just the sheer thought of meeting him alone sends shivers down your spine even though nothing ever happened between you two. After all, you’re only here to look out for him, right?

“Thank you for standing up for me. Now you’ll get in trouble for helping me out”, the red-haired boy lying in front of your feet speaks out while dragging himself up.

“Oh, don’t worry about me, I can handle him. Are you alright?”

In the matter of seconds, your eyes scan his body for serious injuries. Nothing, as you expected. Even though his training methods seem rough, he’d never allow himself to truly lay hands on another corps member. Not even him, Kamado Tanjiro. The boy who has what Sanemi always dreamed of.

“Yes, thanks to you. We really need a break after training day and night. Sorry, may I ask you for your name?

“My name is (y/n). Nice to finally meet you in person, Kamado Tanjiro.”

His eyes widen in an instant when you tell him your name. Even though you’re not a hashira, it seems like a lot of corps member know you. A decently skilled swordswoman, a trained doctor who made sure that no one ever died as long as you were around.

“The angel”, he breathes out.

“What an honor to meet you in person!”

In an instant, he gets on his knees and places his head on his flat palms. A pose of deep respect, so intimate that your cheeks heat up in an instant.

“Please, lift yourself off the ground. I don’t deserve your praise-“

“You deserve so much more than that!”, Tanjiro interrupts in an instant.

“Leave her alone. Can’t you see that you’re making her uncomfortable?”, another voice mutters from behind.

A very familiar voice you haven’t heard in quite some time, that makes your heart jump up and down in joy.

“Genya!”, you cry out.

You waste no time. In an instant, you lunge yourself at the now much taller boy and wrap your arms around him so tightly that he cannot escape. Oh, you really missed him. Even though Sanemi states over and over how much he hates his little brother, you always had a weak spot for him. Maybe because you’re able to see his soft side as well or because of the cute way he blushes when you look at him.

“Genya, are you alright? Your face is so red-“

“SHUT UP”, he barks at Tanjiro while you giggle to yourself.

“Why didn’t you send me a crow like I told you to? I was beyond worried about you. But oh I’m so proud. Did you really help to kill an upper moon demon and supported your friends?”

“Well I-“

“Yes he did! He was a big help for all of us!”, Tanjuro interferes immediately.

“(y/n), didn’t I tell you we need to talk?”, someone suddenly barks from the inside.

All color drains from Genya’s face immediately as he turns around with you.

There he stands with his arms crossed in front of his muscular chest, eyes almost piercing through you while the vein on his forehead threatens to pop any minute.

Your heart sinks in an instant. No, don’t let him control you like that, not when you know that he’s just…jealous?

“I needed to talk to Genya first”, you clarify.

“(y/n), please don’t-“

“Oh, is that so? Why would you even look at that trash?”

Thick anger rushes through your veins like the flood. If there’s one thing you hate about Sanemi’s attitude, it’s the way he talks about his little brother.

“I’m looking at you as well, don’t I?”

He flinches ever so slightly, his furrowed eyes now piercing through you like a thousand knives.

“Get inside. Right now.”

“Get some rest you two”, you quickly shout over your shoulder before you disappear into the house with a furious Sanemi by your side.

He slams the door shut behind you so rapidly that it rains plaster.

“What was that, huh?”, he speaks out with threatening low voice.

“I asked your little brother about his mission.”

He cages you between the wall with no way to escape, dangerous eyes locked with yours.

“I told you to stay away from him.”

“And I told you that I don’t care.”

“Why don’t you leave, then?”

“Because I’m the only one who’s able to tame you down”, you bite back.

He huffs in sheer annoyance while pushing himself off the wall. Why does he have to look so vulnerable and strong at the same time, so scary but also mesmerizing?

“You won’t force me to talk to him”, he finally speaks out.

“I want him to leave the corps and get as far away from me as possible.”

“Away from you or away from the danger?”

“I don’t care about him.”

“So you don’t care about me as well?”

Thick silence hangs between both of you while you stare at each other. To this day he never revealed how he truly feels about you. Does he hate you, respect you, love you? You might never know. But your influence on him speaks for itself.

“Go to sleep. We’ll get up early tomorrow.”

Without another word, he leaves you standing in a new wave of ponderings and emotions.

-a few hours later-

Your eyes dart open for no reason. Aimlessly, your orbs roam around the dark room, ears searching for a single sound.

Voices. Shouting. Blows.

Blows?

“Big brother?”

Your heart drops to the floor. That’s Genya. Why does the floor start to vibrate now?

Out of instinct, you yank out of your room, follow a wave of destruction until you finally get what’s going on.

There they stand. Genya with fright written all over his face and Sanemi with orbs so empty you’re almost able to see through them.

Your guts turn uncomfortably as he speeds forward so fast that your eyes are almost unable to follow. Fuck, is he about to pierce through Genya’s eyes?

You waste no time. In the matter of milliseconds, you drag Genya to the ground and therefore safe him from Sanemi’s merciless attack.

“Sanemi.”

You breathe out his name like a prayer.

“Get out of line, (y/n).”

“I can’t allow you to hurt him!”, you cry out, hands still holding onto Genya’s trembling body for dear life.

“You leave me no choice, then.”

It happens faster than you’re able to think. He dashes forward while grabbing the handle of his sword tightly, his eyes and blade darted towards you.

But you don’t even think about leaving Genya. No, you stand your ground in front of him, glossy orbs watching as his blade crashes down straight towards your face.

Until it stops.

“I said move”, he hisses through gritted teeth.

“And I said I won’t. Leave Genya alone.”

“Are you really putting up a fight with me, (y/n)? Here, right in front of everyone else?”

You couldn’t care less about the stinging fact that the others are watching you drowned in fear. This goes too far without any doubt.

“You don’t have to do this, Sanemi. Not when we both know you love your little brother dearly”, you breathe out.

“Come on Genya, let’s leave”, Tanjiro’s voice mutters behind you, causing a wave of relief to wash over you.

“I don’t love anyone. Not him, not you, I don’t give a shit about anyone around here”, Sanemi barks back at you with nothing but hatred spilling from his mouth.

Genya doesn’t deserve those words reaching his ear. But apart from that, you can’t escape the sting that fills your heart with agony.

Him, not loving anyone? Of course you never really expected the wind hashira to actually like you back. Of course even him respecting you is more than you could have ever asked for. But somehow you still hoped. Each and every night, you imagined what if would feel like to lay in his arms while listening to his steady heartbeat. Every free second, you pondered about how his lips must feel pressed against yours, how it feels to fall asleep and wake up next to him.

And now he tells you that you mean nothing to him.

You swallow hard, desperately trying to avoid his gaze at any cause. No, you can’t afford to lose yourself right here when everyone is watching.

Out of instinct, you straighten your shoulders and cross your arms in front of your chest.

“If that’s the case, I’m leaving. Good night, wind hashira.”

You don’t care about waiting for an answer. All you want to do right now is going back into your room, going back into safety where he’s not around. How stupid to even consider that Sanemi Shinazugawa could feel anything apart from a little respect for you. You, nothing but an ordinary slayer, still too weak to be called a real hashira. You, apparently nothing but a fool.

Hot tears start to swell up your eyes and cause your vision to get foggy. You never allowed yourself to cry over something so minor. What did you expect, a gut-wrenching love story? With the wind hashira?

“Why did you turn your back on me?”

You flinch so hard that you almost trip over your futon.

“What are you doing here?”, you cry out.

Fuck, this is him, without any doubt. What on earth is Sanemi doing in your room? Just now, when you’re looking like a mess.

“Are you crying?”

“Even if I do, why would you care?”

When your gaze drifts towards his, you feel like drowning and taking your first breath at the same time. He looks so distressed that your heart wrenches all over again. Like a lost puppy, he draws closer until he cages you against the wall. His eyes seem to stare right through your soul, make it hard to produce a single logical thought.

“Why would you even think that, idiot?”

His hand yanks your chin up, forces you to stare at him even more intensely.

“Because you said so yourself”, you bite back.

“You shouldn’t have interrupted me in the middle of teaching Genya a lesson.”

“Teaching him a lesson? You’re breaking that poor boy’s heart-“

“Breaking him? I’m saving him, goddamn!”, he blurts out so suddenly that you shake.

“Saving him? What are you t-“

“Poking his eyes out isn’t that big of a deal, he’d definitely survive. But his career at the demon slayer corps would have been over and out, he would have been saved”, he mumbles frantically.

“That would have meant he’s save, that would have meant he doesn’t die in this shit-“

“Sanemi”, your hands grab his face gently, try to get him out of his constant mumbling.

“He’ll die just like our mother did.”

“Sanemi.”

“I can’t fucking protect you all. Not when you’re around as well, not when you’re not listening just like he does-“

“Sanemi.”

When your eyes meet his, he looks like a troubled child scared of thunder. His glossy orbs stare at you desperately, make your heart ache all over again. All that rambling, giving Genya his coldest shoulder…to protect him?

“You’re just as reckless as him. Not looking out for yourself. What am I supposed to do without both of you around? What if I lose you two as well?”

“You won’t lose anyone, I’m good enough to-“

“How can you know?”, he screams into your face, his voice vibrating through every cell of your body like thunder.

“How can you promise you won’t die? One wrong move and you’re gonna bite the dust. Or you’re at the wrong place at the wrong time like Rengoku-“

It might be the stupidest thing you’ve ever done in your entire life, so reckless that you’ll lose Sanemi completely.

But you don’t care.

Before he’s able to talk about the grief within the past any further, you crash your lips against his while holding onto his face for dear life.

Over and over, again and again until your mind finally shuts up, until it’s only you and Sanemi and his puffy lips against yours.

He wraps his arms around you so tightly that you allow your knees to give in, bodies resting against each other so desperately that you feel like dreaming. Countless nights you pondered about the way his frame feels pressed against yours, what the wind hashira might taste like.

Oh, the reality is so much better, so good that you have to convince yourself you’re not dreaming.

“You’re driving me insane. Since the first time I saw you training with Obanai, since you beamed at me with that sickening gorgeous smile. I can’t escape you. I can’t fucking lose you”, he hisses against your mouth before entangling his tongue with yours all over again.

Sparks fly, stars take up your sight completely as you threaten to choke on all the affection and love that hits you with full force.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”, you breathe out.

“And risking you’ll never talk to me again? You have to be out of your mind.”

“I’m out of my mind because of you. Because you make me feel all those strange things”, you puff out.

Faster than you’re able to react, he pulls his face away from yours enough to almost drown inside your glossy orbs. For a moment, all the does is staring at you as you desperately gasp for air with your chest rising and falling rapidly. This really happened. Did you really make out with the wind hashira after he tried to murder his little brother, after all the fighting and rambling of today?

“You’re my weakness, (y/n)”, he finally blurts out.

“And I hate that power you have over me. Especially that everyone else knows it.”

You tilt your head to the side. Oh, that’s so true. After all, this is the reason why you were sent here. You are here to make sure he doesn’t go too rough on his students, that his hot temper is kept at least a little cool.

Well, given the heat that radiates from him at this very moment, the last part definitely didn’t go as planned.

“They know about my feeling for you as well.”

His eyes widen while he stares you up and down in sheer disbelief.

“Stop fucking with me”, he grumbles.

“You were too blind to realize that I loved you for so long while I didn’t even think about the opportunity that you might like me back”, you admit with your cheeks turning as hot as the sun.

“You fool.”

He yanks your chin towards his face, a small smile decorating his usual so irritated face.

“I’ll definitely never let you go again now.”

His lips crash into yours and leave your mind blank all over again.

“But I’ll still kick your ass for talking to me so disrespectfully and interfering with Genya.”

Tags: @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @beatrexworld

@froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso @poketrainer2270 @chaoticwinnercupcake

@lees-chaotic-brain @wordskeeper @polarbvnny @sugu-love @ryva @baku2345

@komelrebi-san @kentocalls (your fic will be next) @barbuse @sunshine7queen @lavenderdrxp

@yaninnaacu @hopefulbelievertimemachine (thank you sooo much for helping me creating reader for the cover)

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jarofstyles · 1 day

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Please write us some extreme pda like I know it’s not everyone’s cup of tea but I love it 😩 like they’re out at a bar and all of their friends are disgusted and annoyed but they’re just so in love they can’t keep their hands off each other 😭😭 like just lots of kisses, neck kisses, lap sitting, whispering to each other, giggling, hair playing etc 🥰

Oh I love a sickly PDA couple but only in books bc I’ll probably vom if I see it irl. So sure!

Here is a bit from Leather and Lace since we just finished them up.

Check out our Patreon!

——

“I can’t believe you’ve turned to mush.”

“Shut up.” Harry grumbled, holding Y/N closer on his lap. His chin rested on the dip in her shoulder, lips pried away from the chaste kisses he’d been giving to her throat. It was probably obnoxious but Harry really didn’t care. His indifference to what people thought went soul deep. All he really cared about was Y/N, if he was being honest.

And maybe the milkshake she’d promised him on the way home for prying him out of her bed. That was a topic he went back to a few times tonight.

“Oi, be nice.” Y/N laughed, placing her hand on top of his ringed one to squeeze it lightly. There wasn’t much heat behind her words, merely defending Niall so he wouldn’t be complaining as much to her.

“Thank you. Feels like m’constantly third wheeling now. Knew he had a hard on for ya, but I didn’t expect him to turn into a good old fashioned loverboy.” The man scoffed. Harry merely rolled his eyes, jaw setting slightly as he narrowed his gaze.

“We are not the only people here. Y’know that, yeah? There’s like, a dozen of your friends here. You can fuck off if you’re annoyed. Not my problem.” He hammered in the point with a smirk, kissing the girl’s cheek a few times to make him screw his face up in disgust.

“I was trying to be nice, you old grouch! Even being loved up you still find a way to be mean t’me.” Their friend pouted before sticking up his middle finger, excusing himself to get another drink.

“Baby…” Harry whined slightly, tapping at her cheek to encourage her to turn it. “He’s finally gone. C’mere.” There was no chance of her scolding him as he pressed his lips to hers. They were slightly sticky from the virgin strawberry daiquiri she’d been sipping on -extra maraschino cherries- and sweet to the tongue as he hummed happily against them. This was precisely what he wanted. People to fuck off and leave him to love on her.

Y/N was soothed by his touch, a light giggle muffled by his lips as he turned her slightly in his lap so he could kiss her properly. He’d behaved well enough- for Harry, anyways- so she wasn’t going to get on him too much. He hadn’t wanted to go out, as usual, so she’d bribed him with the promise that he could love on her as much as he wanted- but he had to keep it PG-13. Her fingers brushed through his hair, shivering slightly as his fingers dipped under the hem of her dress.

“Mm… careful.” She sighed, but made no effort to stop. As much as she wanted to be proper, it was hard to want to stop him as he touched her. She played it cool most of the time but she was just as far gone for him as he was for her.

“M’very careful with you, Butterfly.” He nipped lightly at her bottom lip. “Even when you beg me not t’be. But I’ve suffered these people long enough. If you want me t’be nice, I need my kisses.” His voice was quiet enough to not disturb the other people around. His sweet words were reserved solely for the girl who held his affections. Especially the dirtier ones.

“H!” She grinned against his mouth, leaning further in to kiss him again. Wrapping her arm around his shoulder, she leaned into him with a dreamy sigh. Hot fingertips ran over the silky skin of her inner thigh, moisturized to the gods in her shower routine today for this exact reason.

“I can’t help it, you’re always so soft. So sweet…” he cooed. “Want t’eat you up. Torture sitting here when all I want t’do is sit you on my cock to keep it warm while you talk t’me. That’s your favorite, isn’t it?”

Harry never did play fair. Holding back the whine in her throat, she huffed instead. Giving his hair a little tug, she tried her best to look menacing- as menacing as she could in her pretty lilac dress he’d picked out especially for her tonight. “It is, and you’re bein’ mean to me by mentioning it. We can’t here.” Even if the thought made her hot between her thighs, it was too risky.

“I know. We should go home so we can.” The man was trying to coax her and knew where to hit it where it hurt, but they’d barely been out with friends since establishing themselves as a couple.

“Not yet, I’m sorry.” The pout on her face made him forgive her, even if there was still a hint of bitterness over the fact. “They begged for us to come out and it’s only been two hours. One more and we can go home, okay?”

Harry answered with a grunt, hiding his face in her throat again while he resumed with his throat kisses. As much as he wanted to leave, he wanted to make her happy even more. The weakness was real when it came to his Butterfly. Even more so because she’d paused her social tendencies for him. “Okay. But you’re gonna have t’make it up to me big time as soon as we get home, okay?” He was plotting for sure. “An hour straight of making out, a little feel under the dress, maybe a little begging with that cute pout for me to take it off. You know how I like it.”

#jarofstyles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfic #harry styles smut #harry writing #harry styles imagine #harry drabble #harry styles blurb #harry styles writing

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calicoheartz · 2 days

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helloooo i love your work and i can’t stop thinking about paige x uconnwbbp and reader gets in an argument with a ref and is taken off the court (and obvs there’s videos all over the internet about reader cussing out the ref) and paige pulling her away 💗

𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 ; 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐆𝐄 𝐁𝐔𝐄𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐑𝐒

꣑୧ — summary | basically the prompt 🪩🌊

wc ; 752

— warnings | tiiiiny bit of angst , cussing , mainly fluff / normal

my master list ㇀♡

a/n : yayaya this prompt was so fun to write !! deff need to do more fiesty!reader x paige sometime 🥴 but for now , enjoy !

Our team was in the midst of a nail-biting game against their biggest rival. The arena was electric, fans on the edge of their seats as the clock ticked down. I was fully immersed in the intensity of the match, adrenaline pumping through my veins.

As the final minutes approached, a questionable call by the referee sent our opponents to the free-throw line. My frustration boiled over, and before I knew it, I was arguing with the ref, my voice rising above the noise of the crowd.

“That was a ridiculous call!” I shouted, my hands gesticulating wildly. “Are you blind?”

The ref’s face hardened. “Watch your mouth, or you’re out of here.”

“Make a fair call for once!” I retorted, my anger getting the better of me.

Suddenly, I felt a firm hand on my arm. I turned to see Paige, her expression a mix of concern and determination. “Hey, calm down,” she urged, trying to pull me away from the escalating situation.

But I wasn’t ready to back down. “No, this is unfair, Paige! We’re getting robbed!”

The ref blew the whistle, signaling a technical foul. “You’re out of the game. Leave the court now.”

The locker room was a sanctuary of silence compared to the chaos outside. I sat on the bench, head in my hands, the weight of my actions crashing down on me. The door creaked open, and I looked up to see Paige walking in, her face etched with concern.

“Hey,” she said softly, sitting down next to me. “You okay?”

I sighed, feeling a mix of shame and frustration. “I screwed up. I let my temper get the best of me.”

Paige wrapped her arm around my shoulders, pulling me close. “Everyone gets frustrated. It’s a high-pressure game. But we have to keep our cool, especially with all those cameras around.”

I groaned, remembering the countless smartphones pointed in my direction during the argument. “There are probably videos all over the internet of me cussing out the ref.”

Paige chuckled softly. “Yeah, you’re trending. But it’s okay. We’ll handle it.”

By the next morning, the videos had indeed gone viral. Social media was buzzing with clips of my outburst, complete with hashtags and memes. I scrolled through the comments, feeling a mix of embarrassment and anger.

“Hey, stop torturing yourself,” Paige said, taking my phone away. “What’s done is done. Let’s focus on moving forward.”

I nodded, grateful for her steady presence. “You’re right. I just hate that I lost my cool like that.”

Paige smiled, her eyes filled with understanding. “You’re passionate. It’s one of the things I love about you. But maybe channel that passion into something more productive next time.”

I laughed, feeling a weight lift off my shoulders. “I’ll try. Thanks for pulling me away last night. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

Paige leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead. “I’ve got your back, always. We’re a team, on and off the court.”

The next game was our chance for redemption. I was determined to keep my composure, no matter what happened. Paige and I had spent the days leading up to the match focusing on mental preparation, reminding each other of our goals and the importance of staying calm.

As we stepped onto the court, the support from our teammates and fans was overwhelming. The game was tough, but I kept my cool, channeling my energy into every play. Paige’s presence was a constant source of strength, her encouragement pushing me to give my best.

When the final buzzer sounded, we had won by a narrow margin. The crowd erupted in cheers, and I felt a surge of pride and relief. Paige ran over to me, her face glowing with joy.

“You did it!” she exclaimed, wrapping me in a tight hug.

“We did it,” I corrected, pulling her close. “Thank you for believing in me.”

Paige smiled, her eyes shining. “Always. Now, let’s go celebrate.”

The viral videos eventually faded from memory, replaced by clips of our triumphant victory. Paige and I continued to grow stronger, both as teammates and as partners. The incident with the ref had taught me a valuable lesson about keeping my emotions in check, but it had also shown me the depth of Paige’s love and support.

Together, we faced every challenge head-on, knowing that no matter what happened on the court, we had each other’s backs. And that was the greatest victory of all.

it feels good to write more for paige now! hope yall liked this one and tysm for reading !

#wlw #wcbb #wlw imagine #wcbb x reader #my hcs #headcannons #paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #uconn wbb #uconn huskies #uconn women’s basketball #paige x reader #paige buckets #lesbian #happy pride 🌈

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blacktabbygames · 2 hours

Text

All of the things we've had to keep under wraps have finally been unveiled to the public, so we thought it'd be a great opportunity to catch folks up on the workings of our studio for the past couple of years! A "State of the Studio" sounded too grim, so we're calling it a State of the Union instead, which still works, because we're just the two of us, and are married and spend all of our time making our games anyways. Some TL;DR if you don't want to read a 4,000 word essay on running an indie studio (though you shouuuuuld)

We wrapped our full time work on Slay the Princess — The Pristine Cut about a month ago, meaning we've been back at it for Scarlet Hollow for a little while now, but also juggling that with unpacking at a new place and planning an actual wedding to make up for the one we had to do in our tiny apartment for covid reasons!

Prior to Slay the Princess being announced, Scarlet Hollow's funding was in a precarious spot, but we're now able to comfortably self-fund the entire rest of the game without any outside support, meaning we get to stick to our original vision without publisher interference and without running the risk of having funding pulled. (Hello 2020s-era video game industry, so happy we're not in the middle of you!) (Note: this part is a huge deal it's so ridiculously hard to make money doing games. It's an extremely all or nothing space!)

Episode 5 remains enormous — I mathed it out and had we not done Slay the Princess and somehow managed to still have enough money to eat, we MAYBE would have finished it right about now.

We'll be getting out the first alpha builds for Episode 5 to testers later this year, probably mid-fall.

Episode 5 will come out some time in 2025, but we don't want to pin down any specifics until we're confident about our timing.

Thank you all so much for your patience and support, it means the world to us!

#slay the princess #scarlet hollow

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ayannatv · 2 days

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hii love your emily fics!! 🫶🫶

i have a request of singer! reader x emily where reader is singing at her sold out concert and dedicates a song to emily

Melt | Emily Engstler

You had just got back from a long day at the Studio working on your new song Melt that you had made for emily.You love Emily with all your heart ever since you met her you felt like you where on cloud nine.

“Am Home!” Emily yelled from the door “Am in the bathroom!” you hear heavy steps coming up the stairs “Hi baby” as you saw Emily all your worries went away you loved how she had that effect on you “Hi Em how was your day?” you ask smiling at her softly “It was good how was your day you look tired?” She looked you up and down observing you “i just had a stressful day at work you know working on my new song” “You never did tell me what the song was about” “it’s a Secret you just have to wait any see like everyone else’s”

Weeks later it was the day of you’re Concert all of the tickets had sold out less then days.It’s was around 9pm as you started the concert the crowd roaring with screams as you come out you being to look in the crowd for Emily as you finally saw her to see her already looking at you with a smile on her face as you started to smile back at her and wave.

“Hey New York today I will be singing my new song Melt that I made about my girlfriend Emily who has show me what love is I hope y’all enjoy the song thank you”.Emily stared at you amazed that you had took time out of your day to make a song about her as you started to sing she couldn’t help but to fall more in love with you.

I can’t tell where your hair ends and my begins

If I ain’t have all These tattoos I would think that it was your skin

As you continued to sing you started to make your way down the stage to all your fan’s.

If I move too quick quick past you, I would think it’s my reflection

Being this close isn’t close enough

You could tell every time we touch every time we, oh

You finally made it to Emily grabbing her hand leading her to the stage with you as fans started to go crazy at the action.Emily was now flustered and smiling the whole way up to the stage.

Wish I could build me a cute apartment

One bedroom right where your heart is

Inch of space feels broken-hearted

Across the bad feels way to far and

I wonder when they see just one, do they see us two?

Ooh, oh

As you finished your pre-course you started to bring you hand to roam Emily arm as you slowly went up to her hair as you looked up at her with love and admiration in your eyes.

That's when I melt into you, oh-oh-oh

I melt into you, oh

That's when I melt into you

Melt into you, melt into you, oh

Finishing the song Emily wrapped her arms around your waist hugging you as she put her head on your shoulder.You brought your arms to wrap around her neck quickly hugging her back .As y'all continue to melt into each other not caring about what going on around y'all just caring to be in each other embrace “I love you”Emily mumbled against your neck “I love you too baby”.

That's when I melt into you, oh-oh-oh

AN:This is my first time writing something that isn’t headcanons i hope y’all enjoy send in more request for me to do.

#emily engstler x reader #emily engstler #washington mystics #wbb x reader #wcbb x reader #wnba basketball #wnba x reader #kehlani #wnba players #women basketball

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heavenlyhischier · 1 day

Text

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐅𝐨𝐮𝐫

word count: 12k words

summary: One night changes your relationship with Nico, and just when you think it was exactly what you wished for, you go back home feeling even more confused than you ever had before.

warnings: poorly translated german, cursing, drinking, kissing in a storage closet, angst (of course), Minors DNI 18+ themes below the cut; smut, unprotected sex, also nico is a major major idiot at the end

note: thank you everyone for your patience. i know it's taken me forever to get this out but it's here! this is slightly unedited (i tried) so please excuse any mistakes ahaha

series masterlist | prev part

When you woke up the next morning, memories of what had occurred merely a few hours ago instantly flooded your mind nearly making you dizzy. The feeling of his fingertips pressed into your hips, of his lips on yours, on your neck, singed your skin like it was happening all over again. You were entirely expecting to wake up to find out that it was really a dream, but not even you could make up the feeling of electricity that shocked your body when he kissed you. There was no imagining that.

Charlie had her leg thrown over your own, making slipping out undetected a challenge, but you deemed yourself successful when your feet were planted on the ground and all she did was tightly wrap herself up in the blanket. You carefully tiptoed out of the guest room, making sure to stay quiet in case the others were still sleeping, as you went in the correct direction to the bathroom. However, when you’re outside the door, Luca walks out and nearly sends you toppling onto the floor when you collide with him.

He quickly grabs onto your elbows, keeping your body upright as a quiet chuckle passes through his lips. Your body heats up in embarrassment, your eyes staying trained on his chest as you step away from him once you’re steady on your feet. You awkwardly shuffle on your feet, waiting for Luca to move away from the door so you can step inside to brush your teeth, but you can feel his eyes linger on you for a moment longer than you thought necessary.

“All yours,” Luca finally says, an amused hint to his voice, before he walks around you, “Nice hickey, by the way.”

Your head snaps towards him, eyes wide and mortified as he disappears back into his room without another word or another glance in your direction. You quickly rush into the bathroom, flipping the light switch on and leaning towards the mirror as your eyes explore the expanse of your neck. Sure enough, there was a decent-sized bruise slapped on the skin just above your collarbone. You covered it with your hand, panic filling your veins as you tried to figure out just exactly how you were going to hide that from his entire family.

The three of you hadn’t initially planned on staying overnight, and the only clothing you had brought with you was the dress you had shown up in. Your entire clavicle was exposed in said dress, and Charlie’s shirt was just as, if not more, revealing, so switching with her would be useless. The idea of someone else seeing the mark on your neck made you want to vomit in sheer humiliation, so you quickly brushed your teeth and filtered out of the bathroom before anyone else could see you.

Instead of walking back to the guest room, you stand outside the door of the person responsible and quickly rap your knuckles against the wood. You can hear his faint voice, and you hope that he said come in because that’s exactly what you did. You rushed into his room, closing the door behind you as you stood in the doorway, your shoulders heaving as you tried to calm your uneven breathing. Nico’s gaze lands on you, eyebrows furrowing in confusion when he takes in your disheveled appearance, but then he sees it.

He can’t help but let out a laugh as you walk towards him, your voice worried and strained as you speak, “It isn’t funny, Nico! I can’t go out in front of your family like this.”

He can see the genuine panic in your eyes, and a part of him feels bad for accidentally bruising your neck. He knows his family is likely to see it, but he also knows they wouldn’t say anything to make you uncomfortable. They wouldn’t think any differently of you either, and he knows that’s going through your mind. He can see the distress written in the way your brows are furrowed and the way your shoulders are nearly to your ears, and he knows he needs to find a solution to ease your blooming anxiety.

“I know, I’m sorry,” He says, his voice soft and careful as his fingers twitch towards you, “You can borrow one of my shirts and ask Charlie if you can borrow the pants she brought. She can wear your dress.”

“Yeah, because that won’t be suspicious,” You groaned, letting your head fall backward in frustration as your hands ball into fists at your side.

“It won’t be,” He chuckles as he steps towards you, his eyes soft as he hesitantly takes your hands in his own. He carefully separates your fingers from your palm, his thumb delicately rubbing the skin as he continues, “Just tell them you didn’t want to wear the dress back because it was uncomfortable. Problem solved.”

The air around the two of you was thick with a mixture of emotions that slightly overwhelmed you. You knew what happened last night was going to shift things with Nico, but now that the adrenaline rush from then had come and gone, you were back to being nervous around him. His touch made the hair on the back of your neck stand up, your eyes wide and impressionable as your mind drifted towards the same insecurities from only hours ago.

“Okay,” You eventually breathe out, forcing yourself to step away and pull your arms back to your body before your doubts become too overbearing, “If you think it’ll work.”

His face twisted in confliction as he watched you retreat into yourself the same way you had done last night. He could tell that you were slightly pulling away from him in fear. Of what? Nico wasn’t entirely sure, but he knew he needed to find out before you managed to convince yourself that whatever you were thinking was rooted in truth. However, he knew that, unfortunately, now wasn’t the best time for that and he was going to have to wait until the two of you were alone again.

You went back to the guest room shortly after, Nico’s old hockey shirt in hand, to see Charlie now wide awake and sitting on the edge of the bed. Her eyes instantly darted towards the fabric between your fingers before landing on your neck. She harshly slapped the spot next to her with a slight smirk on her face even though she had already put the pieces together. After you had recounted the events from last night, and she relentlessly teased you for the mark near your neck, you slipped her jeans and Nico’s t-shirt on before going downstairs for breakfast.

Only his parents and sister were in the kitchen, and they all three gently pushed you away when you asked if you could do anything to help. Nina only gave your new outfit a passing glance before she went back to finish helping her parents prepare breakfast, leaving you to sit in the living room as you waited. Luca was the second one to come down, the two of you sharing brief eye contact before you bashfully snapped your gaze away from him.

“Nice shirt,” He teases, his voice thick with amusement as he sits in the chair.

“Aufhören, Luca,” You heard Nico call out from behind you, his tone holding a slight sense of warning towards his older brother as he reached the bottom of the stairs. (Stop)

You glanced towards him to see a reassuring smile on his face as he fell into the spot next to you, the cushion dipping with his weight. He could still see a slight sense of apprehension on your face, but he wanted you to know he meant everything he had said last night without saying it so openly in front of his family. Although, if he knew that would have been something you would want, he would do it, but he knew you better than that. Having that much attention on you was only going to cause more harm than good.

For now, he was going to do his best to drop the most subtle, yet not subtle at all, hints he can. He throws his arm over the cushion behind you before shifting in his spot, his thigh pressing against your own with only the most minimal amount of space between your sides. A wave of nerves wash over you as you divert your eyes to your hands that were clasped in your lap, your heart thudding in your chest as the two of them continue.

“I’m only joking,” He brushes off, slightly shaking his head, “Maybe now I won’t have to listen to you complain about ho–”

“Okay,” Nico’s voice smothering Luca’s as his face flushed and he nervously cleared his throat, steering the conversation to a different topic, “Why don’t you go help in the kitchen?”

“Tried earlier,” He chuckles, “Mom said I’m still forbidden from cooking after last time.”

It wasn’t long after that Finn and Charlie joined the three of you in the main room, the conversation flowing naturally without any mention of the random change in clothing. Although, they both took notice to the closeness of you and Nico and passed you teasing, knowing smiles that you paid no mind to as you focused on the others. Eventually, Katja called for her sons to set the table once they were finishing up with the food, but all five of you stood to help with the small task.

Breakfast went by quickly, almost too quickly, and you already began to miss his family. While it had only been less than a day in their presence, they were nothing short of welcoming, kind, and caring. They were everything you already knew Nico to be, everything you had always admired about him, and you wished there were more people like them in the world. They never once made you feel like an outsider or like you didn’t belong, only ever treating you like you were family despite having just met. Though, if you were to ask, they would tell you it felt like they had known you for years with how often Nico spoke about you.

When it was time for the three of you to head back to the train station, his mom hugged you tightly and mumbled something you didn’t quite understand in your ear. Judging by the way Nico’s face got redder and Nina had to stifle her own laugh, you could form an idea as to what was said. You chose not to focus on it too much, moving to bid goodbye to the rest of the Hischier family, Finn included, minus Luca who was driving you back to the station.

“You will have to come back soon,” Katja called out as the four of you gathered by the door, a gentle smile on her face, “You will always have a room here.”

“Nächstes mal braucht sie ihre eigene nicht,” Finn teased as he playfully raises his eyebrows at both you and Nico. (Next time she won’t need her own.)

Your eyes flicked towards Nico, your eyebrows knitting together in confusion because you didn’t recognize any of the words he had said. He let out a soft chuckle and shook his head, mumbling something along the lines of ‘not important’ before he ushered you and Charlie out of the house. Luca follows suit, a mixture of voices calling out final goodbyes right up until the door is shut behind you.

The entire ride back to the train station was full of all four of you discussing plans for your last day in Switzerland. Luca had suggested that the four of you, Nina, and Finn plus a few others go out to a club in Bern, but Nico was quick to suggest that you do that the night before because you had a nine-hour flight the next day and doing that trip hungover wasn’t the best idea. By the time everyone was in agreement, though it didn’t take much effort to get there, Luca was pulling into the parking lot.

Your goodbye with him, while still meaningful, was more playful and mischievous in a way that made you realize you missed Jack more than you had initially thought. Nico had already bought your tickets online, rebuffing any idea of you paying him back for them as he led you through the crowd of people. You heard Charlie’s quiet whisper of an idea for repayment, but you paid her no mind and did your best to keep the blush from crawling onto your cheeks as you walked slightly behind Nico.

On the train, it was you who had made the decision to sit across from Charlie rather than beside her, which did not go unnoticed by either her nor Nico. He couldn’t stop the small smile from forming on his face as he gracefully took the seat next to you, both of you ignoring the teasing gaze of the girl across from you. You were so focused on staring out the window, trying to conceal your flushed cheeks, that you missed the way Nico’s eyes lingered on you far longer than what would be considered normal, but Charlie didn’t. She never did.

By the time the three of you were finally back at Nico’s apartment, he had to leave almost as soon as you walked through the door. He had nearly forgotten about the training session he was scheduled to attend until he received a text from one of the guys he was going with. Before he left, he had mentioned something about going out for dinner this evening if you and Charlie were okay with that, but otherwise, he had nothing else in mind.

You and Charlie had decided to stay at the apartment and lounge around for the day since you hadn’t really taken any time to relax during the entire duration of your trip. You sat on the couch, flipping through Nico’s Netflix account before deciding on some random romantic comedy you had both seen a dozen times. Though neither of you made it through half of the movie before you were sound asleep.

The sound of someone down the hall from the apartment slamming their door startled you awake, your body jolting upwards as you tried to rid yourself of the fog clouding your head. There was now a random movie playing on the screen and Charlie was still sprawled on the other end with her mouth slightly dropped open and soft snores passing through her lips. You carefully reached for the remote that was tucked underneath her side to turn the TV off before you picked up your phone to check the time.

You had two missed texts from Nico letting you know that his session was running a bit longer than usual, but he would be back before six in the evening and that he had made the reservation for seven. You also had a string of texts from Jack who was updating you on the antics you were missing at the lake house, telling you that everyone missed you, and how he was waiting for you to get there so he could finally win at beer pong. A small, amused smile formed on your face as you shook your head, texting him and asking if he would be busy in an hour so you could Facetime and tell him about how the trip was going.

His response was almost instant, and you couldn’t stop the guilt from creeping on you as Charlie’s words from the night before echoed in your mind. You hadn’t meant to make Jack feel like you were mad at him, but you truly didn’t think he would think much of the way you had slightly backed off. You knew how he felt about Charlie, and her about him, and you assumed that he would want to primarily talk to her and not hear repeats of the same adventures. A small part of you was also worried that maybe he wouldn’t be interested in talking to you at all anymore.

While Jack had always made it known with all of his girlfriends in the past that you were a permanent fixture in his life, the underlying feeling that you would be tossed to the side was always there. Of course, you knew Charlie would never be that kind of girl, especially given the fact that she valued her friendship with you over anything, the feeling still lingered. You never voiced it out loud because you knew it sounded stupid, and that is exactly what both of them would say to you if you did.

The decision to shower came easy once you glanced at the time and also realized you hadn’t showered since before you had left yesterday. You made a point to take your time and focus on getting everything done just in case there was a potential repeat of what happened last night. By the time you finished, the entire bathroom was full of steam and the walls were damp with condensation from how hot the water was.

Slipping out of the bathroom and into your temporary room, you made quick work to change into more comfortable clothes before blow-drying your hair. Once you were finished, you went back into the living room to wake Charlie up so she had plenty of time to shower and get ready before you left. She tried to brush you off, mumbling incoherent words as she buried her face in the cushions, but you didn’t let her. You knew she would sleep the rest of the day if she could.

After some gentle coaxing, you managed to get her off the couch and into the bathroom with her leaving a passing comment about how foggy the mirror still was. You retreated back into the room down the hall, making a spot in front of the mirror to finish styling your hair before you texted Jack and asked if now was a good time to Facetime, and not even ten seconds later your phone was ringing.

“You’re alive,” Jack cheerfully greets, a blinding grin on his face as he shuts the door to what you assume is his room, “Swiss life treating you well?”

You could hear the faint sound of the front door shutting followed by a quiet voice and footsteps down the hallway. The click of Nico’s door closing reaches your ears as you turn all your focus back on Jack, who is now lying on his bed with a smug look on his face. You ignore his look as you try to balance your phone on the makeshift stand you put together so you can talk while you get ready.

“Hey,” Jack suddenly yells, making your eyes widen in confusion as your arms retreat back to your sides, “That’s a hickey! Whose dirty mouth did you have on your neck?”

Your entire body stilled, embarrassment crawling against every inch of your skin as you stared at Jack, your jaw slack like you had been caught doing something unimaginable. His outward appearance was that of someone who was pretending to be disturbed with his narrowed eyes and scrunched nose, but his eyes were swimming with amusement as he awaited whatever excuse you managed to come up with.

“What are you talking about,” You chose to feign confusion, looking away from him as you looked into the mirror and tried to angle your body away from him, “I think it’s just a shadow.”

“No, I know what hickeys look like,” He draws your name out, sitting up as he brings his phone closer to his face, “I’ve given my fair share, and that, my friend, is a hickey. Who’s the lucky guy? You and Nico finally stop pretending like you don’t want to jump each other's bones and just get it on?”

Jack was mostly joking when he said that, mostly because he didn’t think either of you was going to be brave enough to make a move, especially not when Charlie was there. However, when you nearly choked on nothing but the air passing through your lips and he watched your face turn an entirely different shade, he knew what he said had some truth to it.

“Oh, you so did,” His voice was strained as he spoke through his laughter, “You two boned!”

“No,” You rushed out, aggressively shaking your head as you scrambled to turn the volume down in case Nico could hear it, “We didn’t bone, Jack.”

“Not yet,” He sang, an even bigger grin on his face, “I’d put money on you two hooking up before you come back.”

“Oh my god! You’re so annoying,” You groaned, throwing your head back in slight humiliation, “You couldn’t have just pretended not to notice?”

He says nothing, instead meeting your gaze as he quirks his brow before both of you double over in laughter. Expecting Jack to not say something about something as obvious as a hickey was like expecting them to let Luke drive the boat; it was simply impossible. Once the two of you were able to catch your breath, to finally have a normal conversation, it felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. A weight that only a conversation with your closest friend could make disappear.

The next few days were full of adventure and excitement as Nico, along with Luca who was now back in Bern, took you and Charlie on hikes or to various different places around the city. While some hikes were more difficult than others, they allowed you to see some of the most beautiful creations of nature that you would never get back home. The busy schedule also allowed you to nearly forget the lurking insecurities that would gnaw at your heart anytime you were alone with Nico for even a second, but the way he kept subtly trying to bring it up didn’t.

When the evening before your last day in Switzerland came, Nico left his apartment to you, Charlie, and his sister to get ready while he and Finn left for his brothers. Music softly played in the background as the three of you told stories that incited laughter and comments that would make anyone who heard them blush. Nina gave helpful tips as to what one would typically wear to the kind of club you were going to, going as far as to bring extra clothes in case you didn’t feel like anything you had packed was suitable enough.

Nina was helping fix your hair when she quietly says, “I was surprised there are no more hickeys to cover.”

Charlie’s laughter immediately fills the room as you let out a surprised gasp, looking up to glare at her in the mirror. Nina doesn’t meet your gaze, putting her focus on finishing what she was doing, but she has a coy smile on her face as she continues her work. Charlie, though, manages to catch your eye as walks towards the two of you, her laughter dying down.

“That’s because they haven’t been alone for longer than two minutes,” Charlie playfully teases, “Not for lack of trying on my part.”

“Oh, I’m sure that will change once he sees you tonight,” She snickers, “You look like, what you guys would call, a smokeshow.”

Nico and Luca arrived back at the apartment just as the three of you were finishing up, their loud voices echoing down the hall. You couldn’t help but let your eyes drift towards the mirror, dragging your gaze from the top of your head all the way down to your toes. Doubts and scrutinizing thoughts slowly crept their way in, your hands anxiously running across the thin fabric of your shirt as you began contemplating changing into something that you were more used to. Something that wasn’t so form-fitting.

“Hey,” Charlie peaks her head back in the room, quickly taking notice of a look she had seen on your face far too often, “You okay?”

“Yeah,” You give her a tight-lipped smile before dropping your gaze to the floor.

You hear her footsteps approaching you, her arms wrapping around your shoulders as she says, “You look absolutely beautiful, okay? I mean that. You’re going to be the hottest girl in that club no matter what, but if you want to change, we can wait. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable the whole time.”

You meet her stare in the mirror, a soft, sincere smile on her face as she gently squeezes you in reassurance. You bring your hand up to grasp her forearm, tears lining your eyes as you let out a deep breath and rub your thumb against her skin. Small moments like these were times you appreciated Charlie more than anything. She was always your personal hypeman, but she was also always quick to remind you that you had a choice rather than talking you into doing something you didn't necessarily want to do.

“I’ll be okay,” You murmur, clearing your throat when your voice threatens to break.

“Are you absolutely sure,” She presses, subtly gesturing to your glassy eyes.

“I promise,” You nod, “I just appreciate you and it makes me emotional, okay? Give a girl a break!”

You and Charlie stay in the room a few minutes longer, allowing you to recollect yourself before going out in front of the others. With your shoes in hand, you follow her out and finally make your way into the main room to see the four of them seated at the table. Luca and Finn were the first ones to see you, Nico and Nina sitting with their backs facing you, and a small smirk was quick to form on their faces before looking towards the younger Swiss in front of them.

When Nico turned around, it felt like everything else, everyone else, had stilled and it was only the two of you in the room. Only you with your flushed cheeks and downcast eyes, and him with his slack jaw and captivated gaze. Your heart rams into your ribs as he drinks in every dip and curve of your body, almost like he was trying to commit the moment to memory, as you walked in front of him. He visibly swallows as you take the chair next to him and you give him a shy, passing smile; one he hastily returns with an unwavering, unblinking look.

“Does he do that when you guys go out at home,” Luca whispers, slightly leaning towards Charlie as she sits next to him.

“Every time,” Charlie hums, chuckling to herself, “He thinks no one notices, but everyone does. He is not very good at hiding it, but neither is she. They’ve just both been so oblivious it’s actually painful.”

“You look amazing,” Nico says, blissfully unaware of the teasing going on across from him.

“Thank you,” You bashfully mumble, turning your gaze to look at the wooden table in front of you.

Luca mentioned that he had called a taxi a few moments prior, saying that they would call him when they had arrived, so the six of you spent the time waiting simply talking about whatever came to mind. The minutes were full of teasing and laughter so loud that the call from the taxi nearly went missed if it hadn’t been for Nina’s careful ears picking up on the sound.

The taxi service had sent a van in order to accommodate the six of you, with you squishing in between Nico and Charlie in the back row, Nina and Finn in the two middle seats, and Luca riding as the passenger to the older driver. Charlie was taking as much space as she possibly could, forcing you into Nico’s side so harshly that he had to throw his arm around your shoulders to remain comfortable, which you knew to be her goal, anyway.

“Will there be a lot of people you know,” You ask, lightly gasping as Nico’s fingertips brushed against the exposed skin along your collarbone. Just above where he had left his mark a few days prior.

“A few,” He hums to himself as he thinks, slightly adjusting himself so you’re better slotted under his arm, “Timo, Jonas, and Nola will be there, so you’ll see a few familiar faces.”

“Yeah, Timo texted me earlier and told me he’d be there,” You lightly laughed, wringing your hands together as a way to help ease some of the nerves flowing through you.

You were so focused on staring out of the windshield that you missed the way Nico’s jaw slightly hardened at the mention of his friend and teammate texting you. While he knew that neither you nor Timo had any sort of romantic feelings for another, he couldn't help but let a slight sense of envy creep its way up his throat, rendering him mute as he set his narrowed eyes on the headrest in front of him.

When you arrived at the club, you still felt a little on edge as you stepped out of the van, especially given Nico’s random bout of silence, but you did your best to swallow the anxiety bubbling in your throat. The outside of the club looked just like any other you had visited before, and that helped slightly relax you as you gathered in the back of the queue to get inside. There were a few people in the line who gave Nico passing glances, which he returned with a kind smile if he noticed, but it was the girls who stared at him a little longer than you thought necessary that made a scowl form on your face.

The second you were inside, the music was pumping so loudly that you could feel it in your bones. People were pressed together as they danced, worryless and carefree looks on all of their faces as they enjoyed the moment. You could feel the subtle stickiness on the floor as you followed the others through the crowd, Charlie’s hand grasping your own as a precaution, but it was nothing compared to the tacky club tile back home. However, the section on a slightly raised platform with a couch and several chairs was not something you were used to.

“Do you want a drink,” Nico asked after he had introduced the two of you to everyone. He was leaning into you, his mouth near your ear as he talked over the music, his hand protectively placed on your lower back.

A wave of deja vu washed over you, the memory of Nico asking you almost the same exact question a few days prior quickly replaying in your mind. You shake your head, pushing the thoughts far away, as you look up at him, meeting his warm stare as you say, “I think I’m okay right now, but thank you.”

“I’ll be right back then,” He nods, his hand flexing against you as his gaze slightly shifts behind you, “Charlie, you want the usual?”

“Sure! Thank you,” She shouts.

Just as you were about to say something to her, you heard the sound of your name being called behind you. With wide, curious eyes you turn around to see Nola approaching with a bright smile on her face, her boyfriend trailing behind her. She instantly pulls you into a hug as soon as you’re within reach, comments about how good you looked spilling from her lips before she thought about letting you go. As she turned to Charlie, Jonas embraced you in a polite side hug before you fell into conversation about your trip so far.

“Are you going home when you leave,” Nola asks as Jonas wraps his arm around her.

“We’re going to Michigan actually,” You revealed, “I haven’t gone to the lake house this summer yet because I’ve been trying to prepare for the internship next semester, and Jack said if I didn’t go the second we get back, he was going to cut me off.”

“Of course he did,” She throws her head back in laughter, “Ever so dramatic, he is.”

“Are we talking about Jack,” Nico’s voice interrupts, diverting your gaze to him as he walks towards you with a drink in one hand, and two in the other, “I know you said you didn’t want a drink yet, but I got one for you anyways since the wait was long.”

“Oh, thank you,” You take the drink from him, warmth spreading from your cheeks down to your neck as you force yourself to look away from him. Though, you were instantly met with the same teasing look you had endured by everyone else you had seen slapped on the faces of the couple in front of you.

It wasn’t long until Charlie dragged you into the middle of the dance floor as soon as she heard the beginning of her favorite song blaring through the speakers. Bodies were crammed against yours as you moved your hips to the beat of the music, your arms thrown over her shoulders as she moved her own. The alcohol in your system allows you to have confidence you otherwise wouldn’t have, encouraging your salacious movements that Nico couldn’t look away from.

The lights above were illuminating you in a way that made you look otherworldly as you tilted your head backward, your hair cascading down your back in waves. You let your eyes wander amongst the sea of people around you, but you nearly freeze in your spot when you catch Nico’s stare. He doesn’t falter when he realizes you’re looking back at him, only bringing his drink up to his lips before you swiftly avert your gaze.

The two of you stay out there for nearly half of the second song, but filter off when Charlie yells something about getting another drink. Nico wasn't exaggerating when he said the wait was long, but neither of you minded as you familiarized yourself with the strangers next to you. They were also visiting from America, one of them making an amused comment about how Americans always managed to find one another, and they had asked if you had any recommendations for them while they were there.

With a new drink in hand, you bid your new friends goodbye before turning to rejoin the group you arrived with. Charlie sees him before you do, her eyes squinting as she looks through the veil of smoke decorating the dance floor. She sees the way Nico is leaning into one of the girls whose name she had forgotten, his lips turned upward as she speaks directly into his ear. Charlie quickly looks to you in hopes that she could distract you before you took notice, but the solemn look that had fallen on your face told her she was a second too late.

To say you were confused as you looked upon the scene in front of you, would be an understatement. Ever since that night at Nico’s parents, he had been more upfront and clear with his intentions, or as clear as he could be without downright saying it out loud, and they led you to believe all that had been said and done. Now, you weren’t sure what to believe. However, your confusion was quick to shift towards insecurity that you drunkenly masked with jealousy.

“Hey,” Charlie’s voice filters through the cracks of your thoughts, “Want to go back to the floor?”

You moved your eyes to her, and you could see her own confusion written on her face, but you choose to act as if nothing had happened. Instead, you give her a tight-lipped smile and shake your head before grasping her free hand in your own and tugging her through the multitude of people standing about. If it weren’t so loud in the club, you would have heard her deep sigh as she lets you guide her, but you can feel her sympathy in the way she tightly squeezes your hand.

When you reach the others, you take the empty spot on the couch next to Timo while Charlie beelines towards Nina. You can feel Nico’s stare piercing the side of your head as you greet his teammate, letting him pull you into his side as he wraps his arm around your shoulders, but you don’t dare to look in his direction. You knew all he had to do was look at you a certain way and you would fall right back into the same trap he seemingly set before.

You can see Charlie engaged in a rushed conversation with Nico in the corner of your eye, and you can’t stop yourself from tossing curious glances their way. Timo is trying to hold a conversation with you, but he takes quick note of the way your focus lies with his team captain, much like it always had before, and he chuckles to himself. When he sees Nico walking towards you, he quietly excuses himself, but not before sparing you a teasing drop of the left eye.

“Can we talk,” Nico asks as he’s standing before you, extending his hand for you to take, “Please.”

His gaze was soft and pleading as he looked down at you, your bottom lip pulled between your teeth as you breathed deeply. The few seconds that passed felt like an eternity to Nico as he waited, but the moment he felt your soft palm slide into his own, nothing else mattered. He helped you to your feet, not letting your hand fall from his as he carefully guided you away from everyone and down a hallway littered with people.

He twisted the doorknobs of the various doors you passed until one finally opens, and he was gently pulling you in behind him. The room is dimly lit by the bulbs above, the walls lined with shelves that were home to what appeared to be cleaning supplies. A tense silence fills the room as you wait for Nico to say something, for him to at least tell you why he has you in a storage closet.

“What’s wrong,” He slowly asks, taking a step forward so that he’s only a few inches away from you.

“Nothing is wrong,” You deflect, looking at the wall behind him, “I’m fine.”

“I don’t believe you,” He shakes his head, “Everything seemed to be going good until you came back from the bar. You didn’t even look at me.”

“Didn’t think you’d notice,” You mumbled, silently cursing the tipsy state of mind you were in that gave you the confidence to say something you otherwise would keep to yourself. Mostly because you knew you were being over dramatic, but also because you were scared that there was weight behind your reasoning.

You had hoped Nico didn’t pick up on the words that fell from your lips, but he did. He always did. His face twists in confusion as he tries to put together just what you had meant, but he was at a loss. He had been paying attention to you, and only you, the entire night, his eyes never leaving you for long. Not until you had disappeared behind a crowd of people at the bar and he began talking to– Oh.

“You were jealous,” He announces, his voice lighter and lined with a hint of amusement, “Weren’t you?”

“What,” You scoff, only meeting his stare for a fleeting moment, “Of course not. What would I be jealous of?” You visibly cringe at how unconvincing you sound, the octave of your voice higher than you intended it to be.

“Well, I promise there’s nothing to be jealous of,” He lowly chuckled as he hesitantly takes your hand, “Not that you were of course, but if you were, you should know that she’s married to a friend of mine. She was also asking about you, and that’s what we were talking about.”

This time you do meet his eye, blood pounding in your ears as his touch sends a shock from your hand all the way to your shoulder. He peers down at you, watching the way your shoulders relax and the storm of emotions swirling in your eyes calms and clears. He can tell that you’re searching for the right words to say but are coming up short, so he continues.

“The other night,” He pauses when you drop your gaze, reaching his hand up so he can cradle your jaw in his palm and tilt your head to look at him, “The other night, I meant it when I said I wanted everything to do with you. I don’t just want to kiss you. I don’t just want small touches when I can steal them. I want it all, if you’re willing to give that to me.”

Your mouth is slightly parted as you take quick and shallow breaths, trying to will yourself to say something, to do anything other than stand there in silence. Nico is looking at you in anticipation, his thumb running along the curve of your cheek as his eyes dance across your face. The tension filling the room was slowly suffocating you, and you knew the only way to breathe again was to speak.

“I would give you anything you wanted,” You exhale, not caring how pathetically desperate it sounded, “You’ve had all of me from the moment I heard your voice.”

Nico carefully leans down, his lips hovering over your own as he teases, “Only after you heard my voice, huh?”

“I’m a sucker for an accent,” You bashfully giggle, letting your eyes flutter closed as you shudder underneath him.

With a subtle tilt of your chin, he connects his lips with your own in what starts as a soft, slow kiss between two people who need a gentle reminder of what they mean to each other. However, the second your hands lazily drag up Nico’s shirt to loop behind his neck, it turns into something much more. Something more driven with passion and desperation. He grips your hip with his free hand, the other sliding to cup the back of your head as he deepens the kiss.

You cautiously step backward until your body comes in contact with the wall behind you, your fingers tangling in his hair as you stand on your toes to meet him with just as much fervor as he was giving. It was a clash of teeth and tongue, ardent desire pouring out of both of you so urgently that it left you weak in the knees. It was the kind of kiss you only ever heard about in books, and Nico effortlessly brought it to life.

He explores the curve of your body with his hand, the thin material covering you granting you access to feel it like there was nothing separating him from you. Your head falls back as Nico begins to kiss down your jaw until he’s placing open-mouthed kisses to the column of your neck. Breathless moans tumble from your lips as you tug on the ends of his hair, eliciting a few quiet groans from his mouth.

“Nico,” You call out as his teeth carefully nip at the skin, “If you leave another hickey, I’ll kill you.”

His laughter rumbles against your neck before he’s pulling away to look at you, “I wasn’t intending on it, schatzi. Not in a storage closet at a club.”

Warmth spreads from your stomach at the implication that the only thing stopping him from marking you again was simply the less than ideal location. Images of what could be, of Nico discovering parts of you he had only dreamed of seeing before, flooded your mind, leaving you dizzy and even more flushed than you already were. He maintains your stare, his eyes full of nothing but want and something else you were too fearful to recognize.

“We– I think we should go back out there,” You whisper as your chest rapidly rises and falls, “Just in case they come looking for us.”

“I really don’t think they will,” He chuckles, “But, yeah. We probably should.”

Nico laces his fingers with your own before he’s guiding you back through the maze of bodies and back to his friends. When you finally join them, every single one of them is looking from your faces to your intertwined hands as smug smirks toy at their lips. Your face heats up at their attention, mentally preparing yourself for the teasing that is undoubtedly going to occur for the rest of the night, as you follow Nico to the couch.

The rest of the night flew by with only very minimal teasing, most of which came from the mouths of Luca and Timo, and by the time you were back at Nico’s apartment, you were ready to sleep for the next 12 hours. He offered to make you and Charlie breakfast the following morning, but you both declined because there was no way you would be awake before noon. You laid in bed replaying the moment at the club over and over, your hesitance to accept his feelings for you were true slowly melting away until you were fast asleep.

The next day, the reality that your trip was coming to an end hit you when you were in the middle of lunch with Nico and a few others. You had experienced so much in the last week, both culturally and emotionally, and the idea of having to go back home wasn’t all that appealing to you. Of course you would be going straight to Michigan to continue your summer adventures, but Michigan didn’t have the one thing you really wanted; Nico.

You spent the rest of the day following the others around wherever they managed to drag you, which was primarily shops of different variety. The slightly hectic schedule forced you to swallow your sadness and focus on the present rather than the events of tomorrow. As the day was winding down and dinner ideas were being thrown around, Charlie insisted that the two of you buy ‘I love Switzerland’ shirts at one of the souvenir shops before retiring because ‘Did you even go if you didn’t buy the cliche shirt?’.

At dinner, Nico was always touching you in some way. Whether that be his arm slung over the back of your chair, his knee pushed against your own, or his hand on the exposed skin of your thigh. His displays of affection slightly caught you off guard, but you welcomed them with a shy smile you would pass him any time he looked at you. You even found an ounce of confidence to place your hand over his own, curling your fingers around his index finger as you willed yourself to focus on the conversation around you.

“I’m going to miss you,” Nina said as she hugged you tightly, “You really must come back sometime, and I’ll call you next time I’m in the city so we can go out!”

“I’ll miss you,” You smile, pulling away from her but keeping your hands on her biceps, “And I would love that. I’ll come back, I promise. Even if Nico isn’t here.”

“Ouch,” His voice sounds from behind you, forcing your gaze to him as he nears, “Replacing me with my sister are you?”

“She is infinitely cooler than you,” You playfully rolls your eyes.

“She’s right, I am.”

When the three of you arrived back at Nico’s, you and Charlie had gone straight to what had been your room for the last seven days. You had yet to start packing and you had a twelve o’clock flight, which meant you needed to be on the road to the airport no later than 8:00, and that left you no time to pack anything in the morning. While the two of you finished squeezing all of your clothes back into your suitcases, Nico was busy trying to busy himself with anything he could find rather than focus on the fact that you were going to be leaving tomorrow and his relationship with you was now much more complicated than before.

“So,” Charlie draws out, “Did any results come from your sneaky little make out sessions?”

“What do you mean,” You furrow your brows, zipping the flap inside of your suitcase.

“Are you guys going to be like official or just two people who run off into the nearest empty room and get it on every chance they get,” She snickers as she throws you the dress you had worn when you went to visit Nico’s family.

With a small, reminiscent smile on your face as you look down at the material, “We’re not– I don’t really know, to be honest. We haven’t talked about that.”

“Do you want to talk about it? With him,” She quirks her brow. She watches as your movements falter before you settle on a simple shrug. “Well, I think you should at least try or I think you’ll both regret it. At the very least I think you two should get it on before we go. I brought earplugs.”

“Charlotte,” You gasp, your eyes widening as she fails to bite back her smile, “Seriously? ‘Get it on’? You’ve been talking to Jack too much.”

“Yeah,” Her face reddens at the mention of your best friend, “I’m just saying it wouldn’t hurt anything! Show him how you feel, you know?”

While you shift the conversation to a different topic, the idea she had shamelessly proposed was ringing in your ears. While the proposition that you, in her words, get it on with him seemed a little far-fetched, telling him how you felt about everything would likely be a good idea. Especially given the fact you wouldn’t see him for another month and a half after you left for Michigan, and you would find a way to talk yourself out of anything if you let yourself wait that long.

Charlie didn’t ask any questions when you suddenly rose to your feet and stepped into the hall, but she did toss a quiet ‘Use protection’ before you were gone from her sight. Your feet carefully padded across the wood floor of the hallway, your hands nervously wringing at the fabric of your shorts until you were stood right outside of Nico’s bedroom. The soft light was slipping through the crack at the bottom of the door, illuminating your feet as you stared at them and mulled over your sudden actions.

Intaking a sharp breath, you brought your knuckles up to his door and lightly knocked a few times. Nerves were pricking at your skin as you waited for him, the pit in your stomach growing with each passing second and your hands were shaking at your side. When Nico finally pulls the door open, your come face to face with his naked chest and every sentence you had pre-planned in your head flew out of the window.

You have to force your eyes up to his own, your heart pounds in your chest as you try to get your mouth to cooperate with your brain. He’s looking at you with a slight sense of worry swirling in his eyes as he holds the door open and gently calls out your name, your silence making him uneasy. Through a surge of confidence you didn’t know you had, you were rushing forward and slamming your lips on his own. After all, you had always preferred to show people how you felt anyway.

Nico’s reaction is instantaneous as you loop your arms around his neck and stand on your toes, pressing your mouth against him so desperately that he stumbles backwards. His own arms wrap around your waist and pull you into his chest, keeping you steady against him as the door clicks shut behind you. He turns you, his movements calculated and careful to keep his mouth on yours, and drags his hands down to grasp at the back of your thighs so he can lift you onto his dresser.

Your legs hook around his hips, your fingertips pressing into the muscle above his shoulder blade as his palms explore the curve of your body. Your head becomes dizzy as your mouths move together, neither of you wanting to pull away from the start of a moment you had both thought of far too many times. Nico was the one to pull away, his breathless pants meshing with your own as he slowly trails his fingers up until your chin is between his thumb and forefinger.

His thumb brushes your soft lips, his dark eyes boring into your own as goosebumps rise all over you. The skin underneath his touch was hot, burning with the desire to feel it across every surface of your body. You let out a shaky breath as your eyes flit across his face, learning every scar, every imperfection that made him undeniably the most attractive man you had ever seen.

“Nico,” You whisper before taking a deep breath, bringing your eyes back to meet his burning gaze, “I want to– I want you.”

The pad of his thumb slightly tugs at your bottom lip as he says, “Are you sure?”

A smirk tugs at your lips as you think back to the moment a few nights ago, “Is this the part where I say I’ve never been more sure of anything?”

“Only if you mean it,” His voice was serious, yet gentle at the same time.

“I do,” You swallow, “I mean it.”

Nico drew you closer, holding you against his chest as he reconnected your mouths. Your lips molded to his own like you had been made for each other, and it made him ache to see how well all of you fit against him. You clung to his body as he kissed you, gentle yet demanding with a fervent desire that matched your own. He was quick to move you over to his perfectly made bed, delicately laying you on the soft material of his comforter as he hovers over you.

You keep your legs wrapped around his waist, keeping him close enough that you can feel his bulge pressing into the flesh of your thigh. The stubble that had grown out during your stay with him rubbed against your soft skin, but you welcomed the slight sting with eager arms as his hands slipped underneath your shirt. You reach between your bodies to grasp at the hem, and Nico is pulling away from you to help lift it over your head.

You move to undo your bra, but Nico was faster than you, his fingers fumbling as he undid the clasps. His fingers trail down your arm as he drags the straps off your shoulders, your entire body shuddering underneath him as you keep your eyes on him. You watch as he straightens his back and he unabashedly lets his gaze wander across your exposed chest, and, for the first time, you don’t feel the desire to cover yourself because no one has ever looked at the way Nico is. Like you were carved and sculpted by the Gods themselves.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” You tease, propping yourself up on your elbows.

“Tempting,” He deeply chuckles.

Slowly, he leans over and briefly meets your lips, your head falling back onto the mattress before he begins to kiss down your jaw. His fingers drag across your skin, over the curve of your breast, and down your stomach. His touch sets the skin under it on fire, his lips cooling it down as he moves down your body until he’s slotted between your thighs. His gaze flicked up to you, but you were too entranced in the way his mouth felt against you to meet his stare.

His fingers loop in the waistband of your shorts, steadily sliding them down your legs until they’re in a pool on the floor. As the cool air hits your warm center, you finally lift your head to see Nico stepping out of his shorts and you can’t help but admire him. His stiff cock springs free from his shorts, a subtle gasp tumbling from your lips that you hoped he missed, but of course he didn’t. He quirks his brow at you, a coy smile on his face as he steps forward.

“Move further up,” He warmly orders, but his eyes are shimmering with unwavering devotion.

You do as he asks, shifting your body so that your head was placed on the plush pillows, eyes wide in anticipation as Nico positions his body just over your own. He uses his forearms to support his weight, gaze flickering between your eyes and your lips as you begin to drag the tips of your fingers over his sides and onto his back. He shivers under your touch, his tongue darting to wet his lips as he closes the gap between you.

When Nico kisses you, you feel weightless, as if you were floating above the clouds and into the heavens. The way his mouth moves with your own, fluidly and effortlessly left you wondering why you had ever bothered to kiss anyone else before because nothing would ever compare to this. You feel his hand drop between you, his hand diving between your legs and pushing them further apart before his fingers are lingering over your heat.

“No, want you,” You groan against his lips, a chill running up your spine as he draws his finger between the slickness of your folds.

“I know, schhatz,” He mumbles, your head falling deep into the pillow when he presses his thumb to your clit, “Need to get you ready, yeah?”

Your response was stifled by the breathless whimper that slips through your lips as he slips a finger into your entrance. His movements are slow and prudent, working his finger inside of you as you languish underneath him. As Nico feels you rock your hips against his hand, he uses a second finger to further ready you before he were to let himself fall all the way into the bliss that is you.

“Nico, please,” You plead, your fingernails digging into the plane of his shoulder, “Need you now.”

“Are you sure,” Nico reiterates, wanting to give you the opportunity to say no should you wish to.

“Yes.”

Nico pulls his fingers out of you, immediately grasping his length in his hand before his eyes are on your face. He takes in the way your eyelashes flutter as you grasp onto him, breathing shaky as you peer up at him, and he can’t help but surge forward and encase your lips in a small, yet passion fueled kiss. He readies himself at your entrance as he kisses you, teasing and prodding at the hole until you’re nails harshly scrape against his skin.

The weight of his body as he pushes himself into you dizzies you, your eyes squeezing shut as you drop your head away from his and a slew of broken moans fill the room. Nico goes until he’s entirely bottomed out inside of you and he feels your walls stretch around him. He heard a quiet wince as you shift underneath him, but the moment he goes to say something, you beat him to it.

“I’m sorry,” You murmur, “It’s just been a while, but I’m okay. You can move, and yes, I’m sure.”

His gaze doesn’t falter from your face as he begins to slowly rock his hips against yours, making sure to keep his movements short and shallow until you were more relaxed. You’re biting your lip to muffle your moans, to keep them contained in the small bubble the two of you had created for yourselves. It wasn’t until Nico felt the sharp point of your heel dig into his lower back that his thrusts became deeper and rhythmic.

“Fuck,” He groans as he buries his head in the crook of your neck, your walls clenching around him.

A mixture of whines and curse words filter into Nico’s ears as he hits into you at a pace that is winding the coil in your stomach almost painfully tight. The way he was able to read your body like he had a map of it imprinted his mind drove you crazy as you tangle your hands in his hair. Quiet grunts vibrate against your skin before his right hand is hooking behind your knee and bringing it over his shoulder.

“Nico,” You mewl, the new angle allowing him to reach a part of you that you didn’t know existed, “Oh my god.”

“Huere schön,” He rumbles as his motion becomes quicker, more fervent and desperate. (Fucking beautiful.)

“I’m cl–”

Your sentence is cut short as your orgasm washes over you like a wave of scalding water, your entire body lighting on fire as Nico has to smother your mouth with his hand to keep your moans quiet. He continues to drive himself into you, his own ecstasy filled climax nearing a head as your walls flutter around him and your legs shake under him. Your hold on him tightens as he fucks you through your blinding orgasm, and not even his hand is enough to stifle your wanton moans.

With a few more lazy stutters of his hips, Nico is pulling himself all the way out of you before pumping himself in his hand, releasing his load all across your stomach. Your eyes were still screwed shut as you descended the blissful feeling of euphoria coursing through your veins, and that acted as an extra push for him to finish before he leans down to briefly capture your lips as he comes down from his own high.

Your eyes flutter open as he pulls away, meeting his gaze to give him a lazy smile as you say, “Can you clean me up?”

“Shit, yeah. Of course,” He rushes out, scrambling off his bed to find something to wipe your stomach.

He grabs two of the nearest clean shirts he can find, not having a towel in sight, and he makes quick work of the warm, sticky liquid spread across your skin. He makes sure he’s gotten everything before he tosses it in the direction of his dirty clothes, his gaze faltering over your naked, flushed body. He hesitantly hands you the other shirt he had grabbed, apprehension now cracking through his features.

“Thank you,” You sheepishly mumble, despite the man before having now seen every part of you.

You pushed yourself up into a sitting position, slipping the shirt over your head as he stepped into his shorts. Nico could see the worry etching onto your face, and he’s quick to take the spot next to you and pulls you into his chest. He stays quiet, waiting for you to make the first move because while he knew he was ready for the talk that undoubtedly came after what the two of you had just done, he wasn’t sure if you were yet.

“What does this mean,” You whisper after the lapse of silence, nerves pricking your eyes, “For us?”

“What do you want it to mean,” He asks, equally as anxious as you were as he holds you close to him.

“I want to be with you,” You earnestly speak, though your voice still cracks, “But I don’t know if you want to be with me. I have my internship coming up and I’ll be busy, and you’re already busy enough, so I could understand if that wasn’t what you wanted. But I’m willing to make it work, for you. I meant it when I said I would give you anything you wanted.”

Nico’s breath catches in his throat as your words ring in his ears, and, with the mention of his job and your internship, suddenly he was slapped in the face with reality. He had let himself relish in the fantasy of summer the past week so deeply he had forgotten what he told himself, but now he was reminded of all of the harsh possibilities that could be, and he remembered why he had pulled away from you all those times before. It wasn’t always because of wrong timing for him, but you never knew that. You never knew that some things were on purpose, calculated and planned, to keep you at arms length from him.

His silence made your heart fall to your feet, and the unreadable expression on his face made you want to throw up. The expression he had on his face reminded you of the one you had sported yourself on more than one occasion, and you were silently begging him to say something, even if it was a rejection. Because at least then you would know how he truly felt.

“We can talk more later,” He finally says, his hand timidly flexing on your back, “This can wait, but you need to sleep before your flight.”

You don’t put up a fight as Nico lets go of you for a fleeting second to lean over and click the lamp on his table off. Neither of you say anything as you crawl underneath his blanket, letting him mold his chest to your back as he lazily wraps an arm around your waist. Your breathing was uneven as your mind wandered to the worst of possibilities, but you kept them to yourself. Partly because you were too afraid to ruin the already crumbling moment, but also because you didn’t know what you would do if you had found out everything he had said and done was a lie.

When you wake up the following morning, it was to Charlie’s incessant knocking, and to an empty bed. You abruptly sit up, eyes darting around the room in search of any sign of Nico, and also your clothes. The only evidence you had of Nico leaving was the half-made bed, causing your lips to turn downward into a disappointed frown. Had he even tried to wake you up, or did he slip out undetected on purpose?

Once you had dressed yourself in the clothes you had originally entered the room in, you pulled the door open to see Charlie sporting a smug smile. Though, the second she registered your dejected face and the empty bedroom behind you, her look morphed into one of anger fueled sympathy. You didn’t say anything as you stepped around her to go back into the guest room in search of your phone. Maybe he had texted you, not wanting to wake you so you could get as much sleep as possible, but your messages from him were empty.

You ignore Charlie’s quiet, careful voice as she calls out your name, your feet moving quickly to lock yourself in the bathroom to get ready and finish packing your things. As you brushed your teeth, you felt like the air from your lungs was being sucked out of you, making them burn in your chest. You wanted to believe that Nico had a good reason for disappearing without a trace, but the logical part of your brain was snuffing out the last remaining shred of hope by the second.

“I’m fine, Charlie,” You say as you walk back into the room, your voice flat and clipped.

“Well, I’m not,” She scoffed, “What the fuck did he do? Where is he? I didn’t even hear him leave.”

“Don’t know,” You shrug as you shove the last remaining items into your bags, “Didn’t say anything to me, but it’s fine. I’m sure he has a good reason. Maybe he had to do some media stuff.”

“He better have a good reason,” She snapped, but you knew it wasn’t directed at you. Charlie had always been a fiercely protective person when it came to the people she loves, and she could cleary see through every excuse you made for him. Though, even with the ball of rage in her chest, she was almost as confused as you were, and she hated that she didn’t know how to help you.

The sound of the front door distracts the both of you, and you’re quickly running into the hall to see if Nico had returned, but instead, your eyes settle on the body of his sister. She had her phone up to her ear, her words harsh and angry as she spoke to whoever was on the other end. Once she noticed your presence looming in the hallway, desolate and defeated, she snapped one more comment toward the victim of her anger before hanging up and focusing on you.

“Hey,” She softly greeted, but you can see the sympathy swimming in her eyes.

“Nina, I love you, but I’m going to kick your brother's ass,” Charlie called out as she dragged both her and your suitcase into the living room.

“Trust me, I will help,” She sighed before walking towards you, delicately placing her hands on your shoulders, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” You lie, blinking away the tears burning your eyes, “I’ll be fine.”

Both of you knew your lie was far from convincing, but she didn’t say anything about it as she pulled you into her embrace. It was taking every ounce of willpower you had to keep yourself from crying as you hugged her, not wanting to make a big deal out of something that never really started anyway. After all, maybe there was a reason the two of you never seemed to find the right time back home and you had just always been too enchanted by the potential that you couldn’t see things clearly.

Nina helps you and Charlie do a final walkthrough of the apartment to make sure nothing was going to be left behind. Neither of them attempted to bring up Nico or what had happened before you were finally ready to leave. With the handle of your suitcase in hand, you walk out of his apartment door for the last time and you realize that maybe believing Nico’s words and actions to be meaningful was just wishful thinking all along, and you should’ve known that wishes rarely came true.

#nico hischier #nico hischier x reader #nico hischier imagine #nico hischier smut #nhl imagine

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highvern · 19 hours

Text

Casual

Pairing: Kwon Soonyoung x f!reader

Genre: angst, fluff, suggestive

warnings: toxic relationship dynamics, alcohol consumption, avoidant attachment, hoshi cries, sex but nothing graphic

Length: ~ 3.8k

Note: the ending is inspired by this post. happy bday to my boo, legally its still your bday in california. sorry i made you cry. thank u @wonustars for sitting through the dumpster fire this was

series m.list: Houdini [s], Green Light [s, f], YUCK [f], Talk [a, f, s]

m.list

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked.

In the past few weeks, something has been different between you and your fuck buddy.

He’s always been relatively excitable, thrilled by life and happy to be wherever you are. But there’s more smiling, more touching, and more moments that feel like maybe you’re in a relationship you didn’t sign up for because now every time you see him it doesn’t automatically devolve into humping each other until your eyes cross and limbs go numb.

Tonight is a prime example.

You happen to end up at the same bar (after he told you where he’d be with the optimism you’d show up, because you typically do). It’s early in the night, when pretending not to realize the other is just a few feet away on the opposite side of the room is still appropriate. Or you pretend while Soonyoung not so subtly follows your every move for the right moment to approach.

You like to act as if it's a coincidence you’d even show up in the first place and that you aren’t wrapped around his finger. Soonyoung, ever indulgent, lets you. He realized after repeated brush-offs that you have to come to him. And you will in your own time; like a cat that will let you look but not touch until it decides to. Make that decision too soon and he’ll end up covered in scratches and alone.

Your friends aren’t dumb to the charade. They know how you and Soonyoung work despite how overly complex you make it. They don’t push to ask questions, preferring to silently observe the back and forth when you two happen to be in public. Like they’re watching a nature documentary. Maybe they think they’re being subtle when they point out he’s sitting a few tables away or how they spotted him on the way back from the restroom with invisible question marks over their heads blaring ‘so what are you guys?’

There isn’t an answer. You and Soonyoung fuck. Sometimes you don’t; like when you were sick or when it's two in the morning and he swears he sleeps better when you’re there. Occasionally, when you feel extra generous, you let him take you out in public and hold your hand. Other times you pretend not to know he’s got his eyes on you from the moment you arrive at a party and go home alone with a handful of missed calls.

It’s…complicated.

So you sit at a table tucked in the corner and stir at the diluted contents of your drink while pointedly avoiding looking to your left where you know a pair of eager brown eyes are waiting to greet you.

“How long do we have to sit here until you go and talk to your lover boy?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You dismiss the very thought that anyone else is privy to the imaginary game of chess you’re playing against no one but yourself.

“Oh, really?” Lily snorts. “Because he’s been moony-eyed for the past twenty minutes and—”

“Shut up,” you snarl.

You're under the microscope and there's nowhere to hide. Not at this table at least.

“Would it be so bad if you guys just dated? He likes you and you obviously—”

The end of that sentence rattles in your brain even as you stomp away, parting the crowd loitering at the ball. You scold the moments of weakness that make it obvious.

It takes all your patience not to bodycheck the people stumbling in your way. Everyone’s packed in tight like sardines, at the mercy of the tide of bodies flowing to and fro. A brief part in the sea gets you to the counter. You barely take a breath before a familiar presence hovers at your shoulder.

“Come here often?” Soonyoung calls in your ear. The warmth of his breath sends shivers down your spine, goosebumps blooming despite the heat.

“Is that the best you can do?” You tease, finding his gaze. “Really?”

He’s warm at your amusement, eyes bright with his own humor or maybe it's the shots you watched Seokmin coax him into from the corner of your eye as you walked through the door. “How about, let me buy your next drink?”

“See if you lead with that I think you’ll be much more successful.”

He snorts before flagging down a bartender and reciting both your orders. The last thing he needs right now is more booze but if things go as planned, he’ll be too distracted to even notice you sipping on the cup meant for him.

The hand at the base of your spine is calming even in the chaos of the bar, his effort to keep you close as possible like you’d go anywhere. A soothing circle of his thumb burns across the sliver of bare skin below the hem of your shirt makes the world shrink down to just you two.

An easily established routine takes over. Soonyoung crowds you in, pushing you back into one of the stools and assuming the space between your legs. The length of his body locks you firmly in place. His eyes trace your mouth as he talks. Calculating if you’ll let him kiss you or if it’s too early to ask for that just yet.

“You look good.”

“Oh?” you ask with fake innocence. You know what you look like. Short skirt, tight top. Enough skin to make him drool and think about what you’re wearing underneath. Or what you aren’t, given your track record.

“Yeah.” A complete sentence. He’s too preoccupied staring at your bare legs to provide more context. Void of an ounce of shame, he traces the curve of your thigh obscenely without a care who might see and the conclusions they’ll make.

It’s hot. Temperature wise. Warm hands you wish would dip between your thighs and play with what’s just out of view rather than stroke at the rough hem of your skirt. But Soonyoung isn’t one for public indecency.

At least not that indecent.

You watch him watch you. The blushed tips of his ears give away exactly what he’s thinking. The memories of you, in the back of his Jeep wearing this very skirt, bouncing on his cock like you’d die without it just last weekend. Blowing his load as you teased him with the idea of cumming inside you without a condom. If he keeps staring then you’ll have no choice but to rush him into the bathroom for a quickie. But tonight, you want him to break first.

“Are you planning to do something about or—”

Your phone is buzzing before you get the chance to finish the thought. It’s probably just your friends giving a fair warning they’re heading out now that you no longer need them to serve as cover for the real reason you’re in a shitty bar on a Friday night. But the name on the screen is one you haven’t thought about in months.

Mingyu (tinder): back in town for the night, u free? [11:34PM]

“Who’s that?”

You bristle at his accusatory tone, locking your phone and hiding it away. Soonyoung assesses with skeptical eyes, chin jutted like you’re under examination because he decided to snoop over your shoulder. “What? No one.”

“Doesn’t seem like no one.”

“It’s none of your business.” You shoot back. He’s starting to piss you off.

The feeling is mutual if the hutch in his shoulders is anything to go by. “Sorry I’m confused why some dude is inviting you over at midnight.”

“Well, it’s a good thing it doesn’t matter if you’re confused because you aren’t my boyfriend.” You spit.

Soonyoung recoils like you slapped the words into his cheek. Cold air floods in between you, filling the newly abandoned space now that he’s stepping back.

“You’re right, I’m not.” He scoffs after a beat.” Sleep with whoever you want. I’m done.”

Soonyoung leaves you standing there without a second glance, melting into the crowd while you gape.

Fuck you, you think after the initial shock wears away. The last thing you need is Soonyoung’s permission. He may be the guy you’ve fucked exclusively for the better half of six months but he doesn’t have a monopoly on your time just because you take your clothes off for him.

Staring at Mingyu’s message, you fire off a response before slipping off the barstool and beelining for the door.

You: send me the address [11:46PM]

The cab ride is filled with Top 40 and the echoes of city noise. A few attempts at conversation fall flat before the driver leaves you alone to stew in silence. Fuming, you stare out the window as streetlights become nothing but streaks in the darkness. Your fingers tap the annoyance out onto leather interior.

Each stop light gives you more time to think about how Soonyoung isn’t your boyfriend. He isn’t your anything. At best he’s an easy fuck that strokes your ego. And even if he asked, which he hadn’t, you don’t do relationships. Commitment isn’t a part of the deal. He takes what you give and he doesn’t complain. At least, not until now.

It’s a casual arrangement for both of your benefit. If he concocted some grandiose illusion it could ever be something more then he’d swiftly come down from that cloud.

Stubbornness may kill you but there’s a point to prove tonight. That you can do whatever you want, whenever, with whoever you see fit.

You don’t even realize when the car stops outside a familiar apartment building.

Mingyu (tinder): lmk when ur outside [12:19AM]

The facade of anger starts crumbling.

You don’t want to fuck Mingyu. His name hasn’t been at the forefront of your mind in months. None of your old flings have. Even new guys at the bar were placeholders to be ignored after Soonyoung arrived with a dumb joke and too much confidence.

Somehow, without you realizing, months flew by without an ounce of interest for any guy other than the one you abandoned in a bar. The one guy you’re pretty sure would give you the moon if you asked.

And you screwed it all up to prove a point.

“Sorry, I gave you the wrong address. Can you actually take me to…” you ramble, typing out your final response to someone who you should’ve left firmly in the past.

You: i cant [12:25AM]

After the message goes through, blocking Mingyu’s number is easier than you’d like to admit.

—

The clock ticks closer to the time for early rises to begin rousing when you start losing hope. The carpet outside Soonyoung’s apartment is disgusting but after the first hour, you braved sitting down over the worsening blisters from an impractical shoe choice. Butt numb and phone battery in the single digits, you search for the courage to commute back across town with a bruised ego.

In all the time you’ve spent on the hard ground, not one of his roommates has come home.

He isn’t aware of your sudden change of heart so there's no reason he’d come rushing home. As far as he’s concerned you're bent in half in some old flames bed without a care for his feelings. Maybe this is how you punish yourself for pretending you’re capable of something like that. Pretending Soonyoung’s feelings haven’t flown to the top of your priorities since that fateful night in his room. Every time you go to his contact the wave of guilt threatens to crush you.

It’s another fifteen minutes before Soonyoung stumbles down the hallway. Alone.

Even from a distance, evidence of the night after your departure is plain to see. His eyes are glassy and the stench of bar floor rolls off him. Soonyoung is a sentimental drunk but knowing you’re the reason for such a sorry state makes you want to sprint out the door into oncoming traffic.

You feel pathetic and small but he doesn’t even seem to realize you're sitting there as he trips over your legs with a mumbled ‘scuse me,’ which only makes that hole in your chest grow. But you can’t find a word to say. Not with the disappointment clear on his face.

Disappointment because you were stubbornly refusing to let him in.

It was a mistake. Coming here, leaving the bar, going to the bar, pretending you could do any of this in the first place. Maybe if you stay still he won’t notice you and you can disappear forever once he’s inside.

But whoever runs things has a vested interest in your love life.

Soonyoung drops his keys after failing to get them in the lock for the nth time. They bounce off the ground and skitter the few inches away where you mourn, gleaming next to your bare thigh. He finally seems to take notice of your presence.

“You’re here?” He teeters, bending at the waist to snatch up his keys and almost ends up head first through the wall. You take mercy and hand them to him instead.

He’s looking straight through you. To the parts you hide beneath snide comments and brush offs, the side that claims none of this is that serious. That he shouldn’t expect anything, that a relationship is so far out of the realm of

“I blocked his number.”

He freezes at the confession, tense around the shoulders like he isn’t even breathing.

It's all too much.

You rock up onto your feet, unbalanced as blood flow is restored to the lower half of your body. You’ve got to get out of here. Somewhere else, anywhere else. Where he isn’t looking at you like that. Halfway down the hall is where you finally hear him speak again.

“Really?” Soonyoung asks, voice flooded with disbelief and maybe something like wonder.

You don’t bother to turn around before answering. “Don’t make it weird.”

More silence. Your shuddering breath and his footsteps fill the hallway. He’s at your back, a hand ghosting along your elbow. “How long have you been here?”

You really don’t want to answer but he needs to hear it. He needs to hear how much you care. Even if it’s scary.

“Since I left the bar.”

“Don’t leave,” he beckons.

It sounds like a thank you. Thank you for… not fucking some guy when you could’ve? Thank you for picking him even if you can’t say it out loud? He knows it's a lot, even drunk out of his mind. One day you’ll have to tell him you’d pick him over anything but tonight carries more than you can handle already.

Your hand finds his. A tight grip, sweaty palms not even a consideration because the contact lifts some of the invisible weight off your shoulders.

He ushers you inside, down the hall to his room. In the silent darkness of the apartment, his hands stay on you. Like if for even a second you two aren’t touching you’ll float away. Fingers laced tight as you shyly shuffle behind him.

Your clothes fall to the ground. Not in the rushed heat of usual encounters, but in a desperate need to feel one another: skin on skin.

Naked in bed, you stake claim to his lap, lost against what comes next. This is usually the easiest part. You know how sex works. But his mouth burns along your palm, savoring the warmth with a long kiss that scratches at your throat. You shake, breath stuttering. Another kiss to your palm, lips gliding across your wrist, your elbow, the curve of your shoulder. Each webs another crack.

“I’m sorry,” you whimper as the dam begins to break.

“It’s okay,” he whispers, voice shaking.

“You thought I didn’t pick you,” you whimper again, tears welling because you’re embarrassed. Both from how you acted and how you’re crying in the first place. But it feels cathartic. Letting him see the parts no one else gets to witness.

“A-and I let you.”

“You’re here now. That’s all I care about.”

Somehow he manages to pull you into a tighter hold, crushing your ribs but you don’t need oxygen. You need Soonyoung. You settle in the cradle of his thighs, legs wrapped around his waist and arms locked across his shoulder.

He doesn’t offer a joke to cut the tension. He doesn’t try to play a simpering fool just to see you smile. Soonyoung tangles you in his arms and doesn’t ease up even when you wiggle for more comfort.

When you kiss him, he kisses back. Your mouth opens when he nudges his tongue at the seam of your lips. Arching into his palms at the curve of your spine, you moan as he flips you over and dips under the covers. Your thighs will be bruised come morning but it’s a welcome thought because that means there’s proof of Soonyoung’s claim on you; one you’ve been too stubborn to acknowledge.

Each stroke of his tongue is another nail in the coffin. Vibrations cue you in that he’s speaking but all you can make out is the break of Soonyoung’s voice when he chants ‘mine,’ into your skin. You refuse to let go of his hand the entire time, while you writhe and shake, brain melting until you shatter with a cry. His fingers stayed interlocked on top of your stomach as your nails bite crescents into the skin. Another reminder that will fade but you look good on him for right now. It’s enough for right now.

His mouth tastes of you when you finally coax him back into another kiss. You lick across his tongue like you could suck away his breath if you tried.

You fuck him like that. Back in his lap, chest to chest, panting into each other’s mouth in a crude kiss because even an inch of space between your bodies is too much. Not because either of you are horny and need release. It’s a different type of sex you’ve never been familiar with. Closer. Needier.

“I’m sorry,” you whimper again.

“Don’t—fuck—don’t wanna talk about it anymore.” He doesn’t sound sure of it. Maybe you’ll have to talk about what this means later, without the safety of a dark room.

The next apology dies at the tip of your tongue. Focused on nothing but the swell between your thighs, his fingers strumming you into another orgasm you’re unprepared for.

“Soonyoung.” You vibrate into the next wave, pinching tight at his shoulders until his lips find your neck.

You cradle his face between your palms, kissing away whatever worries linger. He doesn't say anything as he spills into the condom; silently refusing let go for what feels like hours, catching your breaths until he slouches back into the mattress and your weight follows.

“I didn’t mean it,” you confess. Your fingers busy etching across the jut muscle along his neck, something to take the focus off how awful you feel.

“Okay…” Soonyoung traces the dip between your shoulder blades; a simple touch leaving you on edge. “What did you mean then?”

“I don’t want…that.”

“Want what?” His fingers flex. There’s an unusual level of patience from him tonight but rather than annoyance, you’re thankful. You wouldn’t say half the things you should if Soonyoung wasn’t here to ask for them.

“To sleep with other guys.” It’s half of the truth. The more important half, the part lodged in your throat and refusing to come out, is that you don’t want to lose him. And you’ll do what it takes not to let that happen. But you don’t elaborate on that thought.

“Good.” He smiles against your temple. “I don’t want to sleep with other guys either.”

A weak joke but it’s a start back towards normal. Soonyoung might just understand these feelings more than you think. Thank God someone does.

You both pretend to fall asleep after that, silently lingering in the liminal space between dreams and consciousness. Your cheek on his chest, the beat of his heart lulling your own down from an anxious rush. His arms a cocoon from whatever waits on the other side of daylight for you two to figure out.

Together.

Strips of sun slowly brighten between the slats of the blinds. A signal that it’s time to test whatever happened in the last few hours under the daylight.

“Wanna get breakfast?” Soonyoung asks, trailing gentle pecks across your bare shoulder.

“Waffles sound good.”

“Waffles it is.”

In the bright lights of the diner, your head throbs. Half from the hangover threatening to tie your stomach in knots and the other half from crying. Your eyes are still puffy, throat sore from such an emotional display in the privacy of Soonyoung’s room.

Soonyoung sits across the table, fingers tangled with yours on top for everyone to see. A proud declaration you fight not to shy away from. Even as he digs into his food he doesn’t stop tracing the back of your thumb with his own. Second nature. You should let him do it more often. It’s a nice feeling.

Seeing couples constantly touching in public before was something you watched with disgust. Except now you get it. Because despite the rational knowledge that you’d certainly be fine if he let go, there's also the feeling that you’d dissolve in the wind if he even considered the idea.

You’ve picked apart your plate, remains of decimated waffles and eggs pushed across the booth for his consumption. Soonyoung fumbles with the shaker and douses the scrambled yellows in mountainous trails of salt. He glances up at you, cheeks rounded in shock like you’d be able to help him. Biting back a conspiratory smile, you start shoveling the mess into a napkin.

Soonyoung stares, silent as you impale a slice of strawberry on the end of your fork and pop it into your mouth. It’s salty too but you wash it away with a swig of cheap coffee.

“What?” you ask.

He answers with a peck to the back of your hand, diving into the more edible scraps that escaped his mess as if none of it happened in the first place.

In a sudden moment of clarity, a longing rooted deep in your chest rears its head. You don’t know what love feels like but maybe this is the start of it.

Sitting in a shitty dinner, wearing his clothes, while Soonyoung laughs at some joke you don’t catch because you’re too busy trying to find your breath. It’s good though. Exciting.

But the moment passes with a beat of your heart. It’s just you and him. He’s your something, you the same for him. And that’s enough right now.

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series: @pinklemonadeflav @gyuwoosbabie @dinossaurz @vixensss

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edgeray · 3 days

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hii edge! is it possible if i request an arlecchino/reader with beauty & the beast au :0? thank you so much in advance aaaaaa i love your writing so much it always makes my day^^

To Break a Curse

(Arlecchino x GN! Reader)

A/N - Hi anon! Of course, here's going to be my reminder that if you request from me again as an anon, give yourself a name/emoji :). So I technically have already made a beauty and beast au (here is the link), but I suppose I could just rewrite the concept. The original au did differ a lot from the ‘disney’ version so for this one, so for this one, I will actually try to align this more with the disney version. Slightly dark because I'm not going to have talking kettles and candlesticks in here. Will be assuming gn! reader for this. Also I'm glad that you enjoy my works and bit sorry for the delay ^^ I am so sorry the ending is shitty at the end I am deadass about to fall asleep, I was this close 🤏 to falling asleep. I was typing with my eyes close lol. It's like 3:30AM for me so I'm gonna hit the hay. Maybe I should stop writing these at 12AM lol. Content warnings / info - mean arle at the start, semi-graphic violence, prolly forgetting something but I'm tired, 2.7k words

You've heard of the rumored forsaken prince, everyone in your village has. People rarely mention her by name, opting to call the cursed prince ‘the Beast,’ based on her animal-like claws and her temperament–just as vicious as a feral beast. The castle which she alone resides in sits on the outskirts of the forest next to your village. Every villager warns you to never trespass into the Beast's territory, unless you wished to never return. However, you've never believed in the existence of the Beast and her castle--after all, you've gone to the forests numerous times and have never encountered her. Perhaps this was just a way to scare off children from getting lost.

Today, you learned how wrong you were. Venturing into the forest to forage for your dinner, you had accidentally delved too deep into the forest, now lost. Night approached soon as you searched for an escape or a shelter, but your search was unsuccessful.

Trudging through the forest, you heave for breath, your feet aching from traversing the rough terrain of the forest, not helped by the uncomfortable shoes you chose to wear. You thought that the foraging wouldn't take long but you found a large patch of mushrooms that led you deeper into the forest than you intended. You gaze up at the sky, it being pitch black with only the moonlight and the stars guiding you through.

The shadows produced by the trees unnerve you, your imagination and paranoia warping them into abstract monsters stalking you. You know that there is nothing in the forest that can hurt you, unless the rare bear, but the knowledge didn't soothe you any more. You feel something hit your forehead–something light and small… and wet. It takes a couple more droplets before you realize it’s now downpouring. You bite your lip out of frustration, wrapping your arms around yourself to store as much body heat to yourself. Your footsteps speed up and you look more frantically, until you see something imposing in the distance. It's hard to make out in the fog, but it seems like the outline of some sort of building.

You run towards it, only to be faced with a wall. You follow along it until you reach a gate, and behind the gate, you can vaguely make out a structure larger and more obscene than anything you've ever seen before; it looks nothing like the village establishments. If anything, it dwarfs your entire village as a whole, likely massive enough to fit your village inside based on the height alone. At least this would provide you shelter from the rain and cold, is the only consideration you make before pushing open the gates and rushing down the stone path.

You nearly trip over the stone passage and as you arrive at the entrance, you soon realize it’s a castle. Its uncanny shape now makes some sense, but from then on lack of light through the windows, it seems like no one lives here. You press on, entering the castle. You’re thankful you're no longer being pelted by the rain and then you're immediately struck with awe from the decor and grandiose of the interior. Although the castle is unlit, you're still able to make out some details of the room you enter. Admiring the spiral staircase and the magnificent pillars, a thought strikes you. Why does no one inhabit the castle?

Abruptly, there is the sound of something shuffling and it makes your marveling halt. Your heart drops to the pit of your stomach and fear clenches onto you tightly as the incessant terror of not being as alone as you though plagues you. Spinning around, you search for the origins of the sound only to scare yourself when you accidentally kick against a piece of furniture. You yelp out, before silencing yourself when you cognize it was nothing.

And then a thud. And another, coming from behind you. Paralysis enraptures your body and before you have the time to breathe, a heavy weight crashes into you, making you tumble into the ground. You let out a scream, turning around to view what just struck you, and two glowing red orbs stare back at you. You gasp wildly, trying to scramble away when your throat is suddenly tightened and you're forced against the ground. It feels like claws are just barely brushing against your neck, threatening to puncture into you if you so much as breathe. A whimper escapes you and a whispered plea escapes you as you lock your eyes on the pair of red.

“P-please…”

A deep, resounding voice responds to you, causing shivers down your body. “What are you doing in my home?”

Tears well in your eyes and you try your best to speak as clearly as possible. “I-I'm sorry. I didn't k-know! I'll go, p-please let me go!” You beg, your hands raise to pry off the hand over your throat but a feral growl stops you.

“Do you know whose home you intruded into?”

You shake your head. The grip around your neck intensifies for a few moments.

“Speak.”

“N-no…”

“This is my castle, Prince Arlecchino's. Though, the villagers like to call me something else… what was it, ‘the Beast?’”

You suck in an audible breath as your eyes grow wide. This is the Beast? The Beast is real? Then are the rumors of people disappearing in the castle true as well? What will happen to you? Your mind goes into a frenzy, with all the wonderings of what the Beast would do to you.

“P-please don't kill m-me…”

“Kill you? No,” the Beast answers coldly. The hold on your throat slackens and the Beast’s hand slips away. “I won't kill you. But you've trespassed my home. And for that, you will remain here, for the rest of your life.”

“W-what? B-but,” you breath is caught when you feel a tug on your arm pulling you up to your feet, the same claws that pressed against your neck digs shallowly into your arm, making you wince.

“This is your punishment,” the Beast says, its red pupils glaring down at you coldly. You gulp, but accept your fate. The Beast could easily kill you with one swipe of her hand.

“Follow,” it instructs, and you do, trailing behind the Beast as it navigates the dark surroundings effortlessly, a testament to how long it's been here. You trip over another piece of furniture, making you stumble onto the ground.

“I'm sorry–” you stammer out an apology immediately.

“Be quiet,” gruffed the Beast. You scramble to get up but feel yourself hoisted up, by the Beast presumably. You yelp from the sudden position, now carried in a bridal style–its hold is surprisingly gentle and its claws don't prick you.

“Where are you taking me?” You inquire, clutching onto the Beast’s shoulder–which for some reason shocks you that it’s firm just like any other human, although you know that the Beast is a human–when it goes up the staircase.

“A guest chamber.”

“A guest chamber?”

“Would you prefer the dungeon?”

“No… thank you… Prince Arlecchino.”

The Beast pauses its movements, halting in place.

Your thoughts flood with anxiety, wondering if this would trigger a violent reaction from the Beast. “Did I offend you? I’m sorry, I really am.”

“No. It's just been a long while since someone referred to me from my title.” The Beast continues walking, unaware of how its–her–words shattered your mindset.

That's right, how could you forget? ‘The Beast’ is still a human, cursed or not. Perhaps Prince Arlecchino deserved being inflicted by a curse, but you could not imagine yourself with the fate instilled on the forsaken prince, nor being singularly called ‘the Beast’ by every waking person. It's dehumanizing and awfully isolating, and it makes you question how long it has been since she's been called that, how long it has been since she has been seen as a human.

It makes your heart ache.

You count the flight of stairs that she goes up, and then for the first time, you see orange light coming from one of the rooms at the end of a corridor–an open fire likely. As the Prince walks closer to the room, you're able to make out more details; it's a bedroom, but more apparently, you can finally see her. You tilt your head up, and you expectedly, yet unexpectedly at once, you view a very princely face: pale, flawless skin framed by snow white hair and ebony strands, and sharp jaw. Prince Arlecchino glances down at you, sharp cross-shaped pupils burrowing into you. Her expression seems curious of yours.

“You do look like a prince…” you think out loud absentmindedly, your face flushing as you realize your verbalization.

The Prince says nothing, thankfully, and doesn't note your fluster. You look away from her face and glance at her hands. Like you've heard from the villagers, they are black, as if dipped in ink and her nails are red claws. Though what the villagers have yet to mention was the markings on her forearm, which are, admittedly, entrancing. She finally sets you down once she enters her chamber, which is obviously well-lived in.

Taking a nearby candle holder and a few logs of wood set nearby the hearth the Prince silently exits her room to go into the room next to hers. You follow her into the room, this one obviously not used but still has a lot of furniture. Using the logs and the candlestick, she ignites the hearth and what you assume is going to be your room fills with heat and light.

“This is your room from now on. Do not ask for me for the rest of the night,” she gruffs, and closes the door behind her. Her footsteps go away towards the direction of her bedroom.

You blink, reality setting in. You’re still in your wet clothes, but you can't do much but strip and wrap yourself in dry sheets. You do exactly that, before sinking into the bed. It's like how you imagine sinking into a cloud to be–you fall to slumber in the manner of minutes.

—

You do not see her until the next morning, when the sun finally peaks out and you're able to see where you walk. Exiting your room, you note that she's not in her chamber, and you wander the castle. A whiff of something metallic combined with a musk catches your attention and you travel down the stairs until you reach the ground floor. You spot a figure crouched over something, and when you near the sight more, you discover the Prince hunched over a deer carcass. A sickening rip makes you cringe as a limb is torn off from the body.

“P-prince?” You ask hesitantly. The Prince turns, a calm expression over her face. Only a bit of blood smears her lips.

“Yes?”

“What are you doing?”

“Eating. It is also for you.”

You stew in silence long enough for the Prince to turn back and resume. “Prince Arlecchino, how long have you been surviving like this?”

“Since I was cursed.”

Your heart aches again. “It is raw.”

“Indeed.”

“It cannot be good for you.”

“It is all I have.”

It is a sad sight. You think that ‘the Beast’ fits her the best here, like a starved animal instead of a human trying to live.

“Prince Arlecchino, if you allow me, I can improve your eating experience. It would be healthier for you and it would be more appealing to eat.”

The Prince perks up her head, glancing back at you.

That day, the Prince learns of the wonders of cooked venison. And perhaps, you've never seen a brighter, warmer light than the one that glints in the Prince's at her first taste.

—

“What is it that you're reading?”

Arlecchino glances up from her book. “It is a romance novel.”

“I didn't think that you'd be interested in such things, Prince.”

“You grow curious about things you do not have.”

You frown and contemplate. It seems like… she's always wanted company. “Prince, may I ask you why you chose to isolate yourself here?”

The Prince remains quiet for several moments before she responds, in a voice uncharacteristically quiet. “The villagers do not accept my appearance.”

“Because of your curse?”

“Yes. They’re afraid of me. Of my eyes, of my hands. Of my strength.”

“Have you not tried undoing the curse?”

She bitterly laughs. “There is nothing that breaks the curse. It is impossible.”

You narrow your eyes. “There must be something. There's no such thing as an unbreakable curse.”

“You are right. However, the conditions to break this one is… unobtainable.”

“What is it?”

The Prince's gaze shifts from you to the stack of books that pile by her bedside. You recognize some of the titles from your village library–they were all in the romance category. You never realize until now that the Prince looks at them with a hopeless longing. “To be loved and to love, is what it is in simple terms.”

There is that heartache again.

You shake your head, trying to any more painful thoughts circling around the Prince. “If you truly gave up on breaking your curse, you would not still be alive, would you?”

“I will not entertain this thought,” is all she says, but you know her answer already.

You sigh. “Can I at least… read with you?”

The Prince tilts her head and pauses. A clawed hand grasps onto yours, and you're pulled into her lap. The steady heartbeat of Arlecchino's can be felt from the contact.

—

It takes several weeks for you to figure that the Prince does not enforce her punishment. You have escaped out of the castle before, if only to find more things to forage. She has seen you exit out of the castle but she does not chase you or force you to return back. Although you’d like to see the village again, you're also not sure if you do want to go back–the castle is quite comfortable and you’ve had enough of petty village squabbles. You wonder why it is that she doesn't stop you, why she was so forceful of it at the beginning.

You recall the discussion regarding her curse. She had given up on finding a way to break her curse, however, she had always sought out company. Perhaps she had the punishment to force you to stay… to enjoy a company she has been able to for years. Now, Arlecchino has given up on you being a potential cure to her curse. It must be why she's no longer hesitant to let you go.

But she is wrong. In those weeks you spend with her, you've learned much more about ‘the Beast.’ You've learned that she is kind in a quiet, observant manner. She's hunted for you, lit your fireplace, made your clothes. She cares for nature, appreciates its beauty and intricacy unlike anyone else you know. And she is romantic, some of the village men could not compare to her when she's read so many books.

One day, a rose is left on your bed, no doubt collected on your bed.

That night, you approach her room.

“Prince Arlecchino?”

“Yes?”

“The rose… thank you for it.”

The Prince remains in silence, observing you with adoration in her eyes despite her bone chilling features. “You’re welcome.”

“Roses are often used as a way to confess,” you say. You know that she knows already, given the amount of books she read. “Is this what I think it is?”

Prince Arlecchino nods. Tentatively, she takes your cheek in her hand and cups it, her claws gently brushing over your skin. “Yes. I think I am in love with you.”

A smile forms on your face and you lean in to press your foreheads against one another, creating an intimate air. “I love you too, my dear Prince.”

The two of you lean against one another, your lips meeting each other and you close your eyes. The Prince places a hand behind your head, pushing you closer. You don't notice that her nails are no longer red, nor are they sharp. She doesn't notice either.

The ink from her arms wash away, and with that ‘the Beast’ is swept away, stolen away by you. Prince Arlecchino stands in place of the missing ‘Beast.’

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