#The market between universes au | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

vivalabunbun · 4 months

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As We Are, We Will Be

Summary: A nonsensical question is proposed in one singular moment between a stoic and stoic face in one singular universe.

Word Count: 9k (It was supposed to be short and sweet-)

Tags: Alhaitham X Fem! Reader, Smut, NSFW, Fluff, a lot of fluff, slight angst, soulmate au, slow fic, established relationship, married life, Soft! Alhaitham, attempts at comedy, mentions of aging, slightly jealous! Alhaitham, mutual pinning, soft sex, vanilla, safe sex (wrap it up), riding (cowgirl), fingering, slow sex, making love, really bad expatiations of scientific theories and math, just two nerds in love.

Authors Note: Happy belated birthday and Valentine's Day to my favorite dendro nerd. A continuation of this piece, one I hold dear. A thought experiment based on nothing more than the feverish delirium of love.

It was just for a moment.

A mere pasting instance in the contentious momentum of time when a glimmer caught your eyes in the muddled chatter of a crowd, a silver shimmer like starlight.

Interrupting your contemplation as your eyes impulsively search for the source.

A late morning on a Saturday, the markets and stalls were lively with families replenishing a week's worth of groceries. Bodies veering and easing through the bustle of the busty streets.

The wide breadth of life that moved all around you. Like a collection of small dots within the vastness of a universe.

But amid the vast collection of blurry faces were the flicker of silvery locks refracting the late morning light. Originating from a pair, an elderly lady and an elderly man, their aged hands intertwined.

Time had made her marks upon them, and gravity had pulled down on their wrinkled faces. Yet, the ends of their lips were pointed toward the sky. The corners of their eyes wrinkled as their gazes held each other's faces.

From their view, do they not see the starlight hue of their hair? Instead, do they still see the vibrancy and youth of their locks which age had stolen from them?

The image of each other reflected in their irises, was it from a time before the hands of gravity pulled on their creased skin and bowed bones? Would you ever be able to find out?

“I wasn’t aware you had a hobby of people-watching.” A baritone voice ghosts over your ear.

Jolting your head to your right, you come face to face with the interruption. Or perhaps, your mind finally registered Alhaitham’s presence just off to the side of you. His arms were weighted down with various bags.

Oh, that’s right, the markets and stalls were lively on the weekend with families restocking groceries for the upcoming week. You and Alhaitham were no different.

Glancing up at his ashen trestles and then scanning back at the starlight locks of the elderly couple, and then back to your husband.

“Hmm, not quite. Just noting the fact your hair is the same color as an old man’s, Haitham.” You catch the subtle twitch of his brow.

“Is that so? I hope you are aware you’re not immune to the inevitably of aging, wife,” Alhaitham returns your jest.

“Well, with your hair color and grumpiness, I’d say you’re already halfway there.”

“I needn’t expound on your equivalent levels of grumpiness, it won’t be long before your locks share the same ashen hue.”

“I guess that’s why we get along then, dear husband.”

“That’s one theory,” he huffs, a simple tone lacking any bite.

You pan your face back toward the crowd, partly because it’s getting harder to hold the neutral position of your lips, partly because your curiosity aches for an untold conclusion.

However, when your gaze returned to the ever-bustling sea of people, the pair of starlight hues were nowhere to be found. It was regrettable, but expected, the elderly couple were nothing more than a pair of strangers in a crowd full of unfamiliar faces.

They were just a brief scene that disappeared into the moving tides of people.

Leaving you with your unresolved musings.

“Is there anything else we need for the week?”

Alhaitham’s voice reels your consciousness back, swiftly you check the crinkled slip of parchment within your hand. Scanning down the list of written items, all with a neat little line crossed through their immaculately penned letters.

“It looks like we got everything we need.” You tuck the list into your pocket.

“Then it’s best we get home before our groceries are spoiled by the heat.” Alhaitham readjusts the bags in his hands.

A hum takes its place as your response. Pivoting your body in the direction of your shared home. From the corner of your field of view, his strides were paced to coincide with your shorter steps.

Studying the numerous bags occupying his hands, you can’t help but think it’s quite convenient to have someone as robust as your husband. Maybe it's these weekly grocery runs that are the secret behind his physique.

Discreetly, your hand slowly slips between the gap of his arm and body, linking your elbows together. So that your frame and his could withstand the push and pull of the crowd’s contentious momentum.

The neutrality of your lips had long slipped away, softened by the familiarity of his warmth. Even as your eyes were pointed on the path ahead, you had an inkling that a similar occurrence was mirrored on his lips as well.

An inquiry your curiosity didn’t need to peek to resolve.

That ache for an untold conclusion morphed into a new musing by the afternoon.

The silver shimmer from that elderly couple’s hair truly was like starlight. Perhaps that’s the correlation that steered your thoughts down this winding path of pondering.

Everyone, from those taking their first stumbling steps of youth to the slowed cane-assisted tramps in their golden years, is technically billions of years old. Or more accurately, the atoms and minerals in everyone are billions of years old.

The carbon in muscles, the calcium in bones, and the iron in blood were all forged in the hearts of bygone stars. When those bright beacons burned out they exploded in one last finale, expelling those materials across interstellar space. Stardust that found its way here.

Here within you, and here within the slow breaths of the man in front of you.

After being around for billions of years, does stardust ever get exhausted?

That would be a sensible explanation for why Alhaitham had snuck away amidst hanging up freshly washed laundry.

His tall frame stretched the expanse of the couch as his starlight lashes were shut, shamelessly relishing in a nap under the streams of sunlight trickled in from the window.

Squatting down you observe the guiltless expression plastered over his resting face, still deep in the trenches of sleep, a small huff passes through your lips. Well, this morning you did have him carry all the groceries from the market back home.

Your husband does deserve this little nap.

Trailing your eyes down his neck you note the lack of a pillow, then as your gaze travels further you note the absence of a blanket as well. Internally, your mind tsks at this forgetful habit of his.

Although his body and yours still have youth coursing through your veins, it doesn’t mean they’ll remain as impervious as they are now later down the line, especially if preventative measures aren’t taken.

Like having a pillow to support one’s neck, or a blanket to prevent chills from plaguing the body.

Standing back to full height, you retrieved the missing artifacts, returning with a plush pillow and light comforter.

Even when his head was momentarily lifted to make space for the pillow, and when the spare comforter was draped over him, Alhaitham didn’t stir one bit. At times you can’t determine if he’s a light sleeper or if his stubbornness refuses to leave the plain of dreams.

It’s a true wonder of life how Alhaitham’s able to sleep so soundly at night given his extensive naps.

The vivid sunlight illuminated patterns upon his cheeks and trestles, causing the ashen strands to dazzle in their refraction of the afternoon light. A sight your eyes just couldn’t help but be enraptured by.

Maybe you could blame the warmth of the sunlight, or maybe the serenity of this quiet Saturday afternoon, or perhaps even these fickle inquiries about his naps for the yawn that left your lips. Now might be the prime time for some research.

Lifting up the comforter just enough for an opportunity to slip through, your body settles in the space right against his. It’s crowded on the couch, the cushions unprepared for two bodies to occupy its entirety, the open edge looming against your back.

Even after all the shuffling and pressing against his dozing frame, your husband didn’t budge a bit.

Leaden lashes still shut and lips set in that all too familiar line, chest rhythmically rising and falling in time with yours. The very image of unperturbedness under the blessing of sleep.

“You really are like an old man.”

At that mere jab, the corners of his lips tugged down while his eyes remained closed. A quick slip that confirmed your earlier suspicions.

“Who knew you were so talented in acting, Haitham,” you snicker.

A muscular arm soon enveloped your form, further pressing you against his chest as if to silence any more sardonic quips from entering his ears.

It was quite the challenge to stifle those giggles before they could erupt from your lips. Peeking up, there’s an ever-so-subtle lift at the corners of his mouth. An express which yours mirrored.

Studying the details of the lips just a breath away, a new musing worms its way into your thoughts:

When the hands of gravity and time start to pull down on his skin and yours the same, leaving wrinkles and creases in their wake, will the edges of his lips still curl like this?

Would yours mirror the same?

A second yawn sneaks past your lips as your lashes grow heavier with each fluttering blink. Claiming a corner of the pillow to lay your head upon, the seconds between each subsequent blink grew longer and longer until your lids were too heavy to lift.

Perhaps the stardust in your bones was exhausted, craving a short rest in his warmth.

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

There’s something against your back and your legs are tangled in something, sensations which gradually alert your dozing sense back from the fog of slumber.

At first, you only had the strength to peek open one lid, then promptly shut it. But in the nothingness behind your eyelids, something was halting your limps from stretching the weariness out from themselves.

You tried again, this time fluttering both sets of lashes apart ever so slightly. There’s a dry film coating your throat and mouth, feeling the impressions of the couch cushions and bundled comforter imprinted into your skin.

What time was it?

Blinking away the haze of sleep just enough to notice how the golden rays of a star were missing. A gray overlay was plastered over the living room despite the ticking clock hands displaying that it was late afternoon.

Peering back through the window behind, observing the congregating insipid clouds blocking out the azure sky.

A sure sign of rain despite the morning forecast. Rain… wasn’t there something left unfinished on the clotheslines outside? The groggy recollection of responsibilities creeps into the forefront of your mind.

The reign of your weary limbs slowly returns, and your legs languidly attempt to stretch out from the reveal they were caught in. However, their movements only caused a pair of longer limbs to ensnarl them further.

Alhaitham’s legs promptly caught yours, stifling any prospect of escape.

Your displeased whine was responded with a disgruntled groan by the man keeping your body locked against his.

Wasn’t your back looming just about the edge of the couch when you fell asleep? So why are you in this position now?

Your body wedged between the plush backing of the couch and his solid frame, the comforter swaddling you also didn’t aid in your immobility. Brawny arm draped over your waist, halting your feeble squirms at freedom.

“The laundry,” you mumble.

“Later.” A blunt interjection from a groggy voice.

“It’s going to rain.”

“Less than a 30% chance.”

“Haitham…”

Your husband simply burrows his head deeper into the leveled pillow, likely an attempt to leverage the cushy material to block out your grievances. His ashen lashes still stubbornly shut, much to your displeasure.

“Alhaitham.”

No fluctuations in your volume nor tone, but it was enough for one teal eye to peek out from under ashen lashes. Trailing up to a subtle frown to the furrow between your brow, then finally meeting your unamused stare.

“Laundry,” you try again.

A silent stare down, one stone face gazing upon an equally stoic face, like an immovable object pressed against an equally immovable object.

Which one will defend their title of most stubborn today?

His chest expands with a deep breath, grasp enclosing around your waist before his teal gaze shamelessly vanishes behind closed lashes. Robust frame pinning you further to the back of the couch as he continues to ignore your huffy floundering.

“Release me, don’t you dare-”

Your grievance was soon muffled by a gentle hand pressing your cheek into his palatial chest. A move that stupefies the irksomeness bubbling within until it falls defeated into placidness.

“Whether it be now or later, they’ll be clean regardless, it’s quite comfortable right here.” The resonance of his voice vibrates in his chest.

You respond with a humbled grunt. In terms of strength you’d always lose to your feeble husband, wouldn’t you?

There’s no point in peering up, for the pleased satisfaction of his resting face would bring a sour taste to your tongue. Thus, you merely adjust your limbs, coiling your arms around to his back and pulling his form closer.

It’s crowded on the couch, it’ll be troublesome if Alhaitham were to slip off the edge if his back were to stray any further.

At this distance, entangled so closely together, the soft beats of his heart in time with yours like a rhythmic lullaby beckons the heavy to return to your eyelids.

The gentle drumming of his heartbeat coaxes out a final sigh from you, lashes descending down as your vision dims back into the realm of slumber.

Slow breaths and heartbeats homogenize into a tender duet, tranquil enough to distract from the sporadic pattering against the glass and gradually increase in consistency.

A less than 30% chance of rain doesn’t mean that there’s a greater than 70% chance of no rain. It’s merely a statistical probability of 0.01 units of more precipitation at a given area in the given forecast area in the time period specified.

Known as the precipitation probability, calculated based on two factors:

The forecaster's certainty that precipitation will form or move into the area X The areal coverage of precipitation that is expected, then multiplied by 100.

Thus, if the forecaster were 90% certain that 30% of the forecast area would receive rain, then the forecast displayed on screens would read as a 27% chance of rain.

A crucial bit of information that seemed to have slipped his mind midst a quiet afternoon.

A troublesome miscalculation Alhaitham tsks at internally as he wrings out the pillowcase into a sink before tossing it back into the washing machine. Button-down shirts and blouses, wrinkled from the process of twisting out as much rainwater as possible, sat in damp piles awaiting their turn to be rewashed.

As he measures out the detergent he can hear the rattles and clanks of the pot and pans from the kitchen. A late dinner in preparation, a task which was supposed to be his this week.

When he woke up to the pattering of rain drumming against the window panes, the afternoon long gone, it stirred an ever-so-sinking pit of dread. Second only to the unamused stare of his wife as she replicated an overconfident statement:

“Less than a 30% chance, Alhaitham?”

How unfortunate it all was, that the area where this quaint house resides was part of that 30% of the forecasted area.

Teal eyes watch the bedsheets whirl and fumble as they spin in the wash, contemplating the circumstance and further action.

There is only one spare bedding set in the closet, so it’d be wise to allow you to have it for tonight as all the sheets and covers get rewashed and dried.

Your bed is about the same size as his, so two bodies wouldn’t have an issue fitting. At this rate, the two of you just slept in whichever bed was the most convenient.

However, given the current state of things, Alhaitham wonders if he should prepare himself to brave tonight on his bare mattress with a flimsy spare blanket and pillow.

He might as well return to the couch for tonight if that was the case.

The accumulation of all the years of science, mathematics, and research, Alhaitham wonders if there was ever a bright mind who came up with a formula to calculate how displeased one’s wife is.

What would be the factors plugged into the equation? And how accurate would it be?

More specifics needed to be gathered, something the man couldn’t do in the refugee of the laundry room. Thus, Alhaitham must brave a journey into the kitchen. His slipper-clad footsteps are slow and methodical as the kitchen appears from around the corner of the hallway.

Sights honed in on your back as you stood by the stove, a rich aroma wafting through the air.

Sleep still dusted your hair, evident in the few unruly strands sticking up erratically on your head, you made no attempt at fixing it. One hand is too occupied with stirring the pot on the stove, and the other set upon your hip.

Your stance wasn’t exactly tipping the scales in his favor.

Cautiously, Alhaitham made his way to you. Stopping just a few paces as your eyes peer over your shoulder, stoic gaze halting him in place just a few paces away. The faded imprint of the crumpled blankets and couch cushions on your cheek.

His hand twitches with the urge to run his thumb along the impressions, but rationally warns him of the consequences.

“The laundry?” No discernable tone in your voice.

“Everything has been collected and wrung out, I’ll rewash everything tomorrow.” It’s best to answer your questions this time.

“Hmm, they were out in the rain for quite a while now. They were dripping out onto the floor when you brought them in.”

“I’ve mopped away any rain and mud tracked between the back door and laundry room.” Teal eyes quickly checked the aforementioned area to ensure they were pristine before returning to you.

“Hmm.” You turn back towards the stove.

The soft ticks of the clock accompany the waning drums of raindrops against the glass, the kitchen hood whirring as a ladle continues to stir in a pot. A quiet lull engulfed the home. Treading on the side of caution, Alhaitham inhales deeply.

Without opening the box, one will never be able to confirm to fate of Schrödinger's cat.

“What’s for dinner?”

“Hmm? Well, it’s raining tonight, what better to eat on a rainy night than some Sabz Meat Stew, no?”

He’s careful to not sigh too audibly, lest he goes to bed with a stomach half-full of instant noodles and that miffed stare of yours.

Alhaitham decides to hold his tongue as teal eyes continue to watch you add more spices to the pot. Studying how nicely the apron is tied around your waist.

But it wouldn’t be wise of him to stand so close when the fabric of his shirt was still damp with rainwater transferred to him by the soaked laundry and sky.

His chain of thought was interrupted by the chimes of your phone on the countertop, catching your eyes as well as his to peek at the over. A certain name is displayed across the screen. It’s as if the hands of fate wanted to throw more salt into his face.

Bahram (Manager)

It’s a Saturday night, for what reason would an employer need to contact an employee so late?

Alhaitham’s focus shifts to your gaze which is still honed in on the screen. A bitter tinge crawls up the tip of his tongue, threatening to spoil his appetite. Perhaps, he wouldn’t mind settling down in his bare bed with just a spare comforter without dinner tonight.

“Can you reject the call for me? He can wait until Monday to get me to resolve whatever he messed up,” you scoff before rolling your eyes back to the stove.

Swiftly he swipes to decline the call, let your voicemail remind Bahram of the concept of ‘off time’. The phone whirs again right after the first rejection, but he simply swipes decline again.

Pushing the device away with a bit too much satisfaction in his veins.

Glancing back at your frame, he lets out a sigh as he relents. Resting his head into the crook of your neck, careful to leave a bit of distance between your bodies and to not hamper your shoulder’s movement.

“Hm?” You hum expectantly.

“It was my oversight tonight.” A string of words a bit unfamiliar on his tongue, but stubbornness hasn’t been in his favor tonight.

“And?”

“I’ll be more cautious regarding naps.”

“Hmph.”

The lull returns, him resting his head on your shoulder and you continuing to watch over the stew. Teal eyes on you and your eyes on the stove. Until your shoulders raise with a deep inhale.

“Go get changed out of that wet shirt then set the table, this bastardized version of ‘soup’ will be ready in 20 minutes.” You reach for a skillet just off to the side.

He hums this time, the liberation from treading in suffocating lull tugs at the end of his lips. He surmises that laying his head against you for a few moments more won’t be so consequential.

The patter of raindrops still splattered against the glass panes of the window, drops which warped and blurred the scenery beyond the glass. Not that there’s any scenery to look at, not with the dreary clouds crowding the sky.

A heavy sigh huffs through your nose, curling onto your side as you adjust your pillow.

A filling dinner, a warm shower, and soft comforters. Factors that should contribute to a restful night’s sleep, or at the very least make your eyelids weary with the weight of lethargy.

Yes, perhaps those components should’ve granted you entry into the reprieve of a dream.

If it wasn’t for the fact you’ve intruded into the domain of slumber twice already today.

And the tempter who lured you to do so currently has his arm wrapped around your waist.

Alhaitham’s chest rises and falls against your back, soundly asleep without an ounce of guilt over the predicament he’s partly responsible for.

Lifting your head off the flattened pillow, your body twists around to fluff the stale stuffing back up before settling back to your position.

His body rested against yours just as it would any other night. But there’s a weight at the corners of your lips, one only grew heavier as your ears witnessed each content exhale resounding from the man who seemingly stole your sleep.

If you were crueler, you would’ve exiled Alhaitham to the couch or his barren mattress.

However, he’d probably sleep just fine regardless.

Canting your head up, you flip your pillow to the other side once more.

Your rolls and rhythm were abruptly interrupted by the clasp of two harsh hands pulling your hips into his, the contours of his rigor now digging into the plush of your ass. Forcing a stunned gasp up your throat.

“It seems like my wife has quite a bit of energy.” His timbre deeper from grogginess.

Ah, all the twisting and turning you did just to adjust the troublesome pillow must've disturbed him.

The softness of your ass cradled against his pelvis through the thin material of a button-down, an item borrowed from his closet that you’ve designated as sleepwear, and his sweatpants.

‘Serves him right.’

Your attempts to twist out from his iron-clad hold only ground your ass more against the stiffness, earning a grumble from his lips.

“Oh? And who’s fault is it?” You retort, still protesting in his hold.

Snaking one hand downwards Alhaitham presses against your lower stomach to arch your ass further into him. Leaning his face closer to yours.

“Do you want me to take responsibility?” His whisper ghosts over the shell of your ear.

You could feel the pads of his fingertips tracing under the loose button-down.

“Shouldn’t you resolve the issues you’ve caused?” A huff leaves you.

The outline of his shape pressed along your skin, the plushness of your bottom contrasting against the rigidity.

“I can say the same to you.”

The pads of his fingers trail up your heated skin, crawling along your torso, feathering touches alighting your senses like sparks. Massaging the tired yet restless muscles. You sigh in contentment.

The billowing button-down dragged up by his vascular hand, unveiling your skin to the cool sheets. Wandering touches slow as they rest in the valley of your breasts. His fingers enclose around one mount, gently twisting the defenseless nipple.

“H-hey! Hmph-“ Barely catching a moan before it fled past sealed lips.

“Hm?” His lips are now right next to your ears. “Surely you foresaw this, I’m just helping my wife with all her excess energy.”

His forgotten hand made its presence known as it kneaded your hips, cunning touches breaching under the feeble defenses of your panties. Effortlessly brushing them to the side, long fingers encroaching closer to their destination.

Your thighs react, squeezing together to prevent him from venturing further. Unfortunately, it was all in vain, for his fingertips already dipped into an all too familiar sap.

“See, you seem quite eager,” he taunts.

Stubbornly, your body attempts to buckle away from his influence. Face firmly pointed away from his lest he peeks at your heated cheeks.

Alhaitham abandons the perch on your breast, two large hands attempting to tame the bucks and rolls of your hips. He releases a slow sigh into the crook of your neck.

“Are you not feeling it tonight?” His hands remain where they were, but the strength missing.

At the lack of resistance, your hips seem to have lost interest in their writhing, staying within his yielding hold. Internally, you chiding your body for being so straightforward. The only thing blocking an answer from exiting your throat was that fickle ego of yours.

“Won’t you allow me to make up for my blunders today, wife?” He soothes his hand along your leg.

With that stubborn ego of yours still biting down on your tongue, you simply nod your head. Feeling the heat of your cheeks reflected to you by the pillow.

Permitting your thighs to give into the tow of his grasp. Allowing the grip of one large hand to pull your bent leg open, exposing your vulnerable cunt. Shielded from the view of the raindrops by a mere blanket.

The hand snaked under your waist took swift advantage of the oppurtunity. Sliding one firm finger down to part the fold of your slit as his warm hand cups your greed.

Alhaitham continued with the caresses of his fingers. Your lashes and lips pressed tightly shut, your leg still held in his tender hold. His slow breaths brush ghosting your skin.

He spreads the slick along your slit, the tips of his fingers ever so often knocking against the bud at the very top. Teal eyes catch the sudden jolts of your body every time it happens.

He moves his fingers downwards, slowly parting the now soft folds of your core. Feeling the subtle puckers of your entrance as his touch traced closer, more wetness dribbling out from the honeypot.

The tip of his finger now encircles the fluttering hole. Your hip subtly bucked into his hand, as if to lure him in a soundless plea.

Breaths getting deeper as your eyes follow his touch, the warm pad of his index finger twirling against your clit. Stoking a burgeoning fire with each slow circle. Your placid sighs fill the lull.

His middle finger ventures past the entrance of your satin walls welcomed with a lewd squelch. Curling his finger against slick walls to test the give, he wonders if this hidden oasis is etched into his shape yet.

Diligently, his digit continues to sink in and out of your weeping hole, making your teeth sink into the flesh of your bottom lip. The squelches increased in volume as trickles of nectar began pooling on the sheets. Walls clamping around a lonely finger, it wasn’t enough to quell that mounting heat within.

A second deft finger joined in, sliding past a hungry entrance. A tangled dance amongst gummy walls as they curled and stretched the space. The lewd squelches resounding in your ear, a whimper trapped in your throat. The heel of his warm palm now pressed flat against the soft mound of your cunt, every movement of his hand resulting in a grind against your clit.

Each grind causes a hot flash to shock throughout your body, starting from your curled toes to the very top of your head. The jostling of your hips and legs gradually expels the blanket off the bed.

“Mmph!” A whine from a sudden surge of bliss when his thick fingers curled against a spongy patch deep within.

“T-there! More there!”

Your body writhes, no longer docile under the white searing pleasure frying the ends of every nerve within your being.

He gladly obliges. Unrelenting rhythm slipping in and out of your convulsing walls. Ensuring to grind against that spongey patch.

Your body twitches and flails in reaction. Trying to find some way to handle this surcharge of sensations.

Legs instinctively wanting to shut together as if to cease this turbulent sensation, unfortunately, your pitiful strength gave no resistance against his rigid hold.

Piqued by the sweet tune, Alhaitham watches the scrunch in your trembling brows. He repeats his actions, another mewl leaves your lips as your head leans further into his shoulder.

The mellow pace of his fingers suddenly amps up, retreating out only to clap back in as his palm presses into the twitching bud.

“Ah! Haitham.”

A pressure mounting up, a sirens call beckoning you closer and closer to a hazardous cliff’s edge. The only foundation for your sanity is thousand-count fabric, thus you twist the silk fibers as tremors overtake your body.

Walls clamping down to trap his thick digits inside as it spasms. Muscles tensing and quivering as your back arches away from his chest, parted lips with nothing choking past them.

Three thick fingers sink deeper into your pussy without a hint of resistance, as a reward he makes sure to roll your overstimulated clit in firm circles with his palms. Judging from the violent tremors in your legs, it seemed you were almost there.

Just at the cusp of rapture when your hand tangles into his ashen-locks, canting your head back so that your panting lips could capture his. Alhaitham returns to gesture with just as much fervor in his kiss, swallowing down your sweet mewls for himself.

With a singular gasp, the siren’s call had beckoned your sanity to drown in the murky depths. It’s as if you lost control of your body to the possession of pleasure.

Eyes rolled back and lips broke away as breathy moans escaped the prison of your throat, a haze heavy over your thoughts, pride long lost amongst the gale of an orgasm.

The beckoning depths of euphoria welcome your descent.

Your limp frame rests against him. A light layer of sweat coating your panting chest, blurred vision merging and blending the details of the ceiling above the bed.

Alhaitham coaxes the contractions of your core, riding out the waves of their squeezes and sucks against his fingers. Earning an addictive whimper from you when his digits pulled away. Entranced by the glimmering string of nectar stretching between his fingers and your oasis.

Trailing back up to your face, he notes the return of your hazy irises from their ogle of the bedroom ceiling.

“Better?” Teal gaze watching the pants of your chest as they steady.

‘No, not at all’, a statement just at the tip of your tongue, but your lips were busy attempting to grasp deep breaths. The surplus of vigor festering into unquenchable desire. To be closer, deeper, more. You needed more.

Where words fail, action must take its place. Even before your mind finishes up the scheme brewing within, your lips catch him off guard, plush lips embracing his in a tender waltz.

Your body rolls back so that your breast can press against his chest through the thin fabric of his stolen shirt.

At the tender caress of your kiss, teal eyes disappear behind ashen lashes, the clasp of his grip loosening. Allowing you the mobility to finally pull your body on top of his, lips never once parting until you were finally settled atop his broad body.

A certain stiffness makes its reintroduction against your roused clit.

Breaking the seal of the kiss as a line of salvia stretches between your tongues, arms pushing against his firm chest to prop your body up as you gaze down at him.

“Still have too much energy?” Haughty eyes peer into yours, yet you can see the ardor oh so thinly concealed behind the brilliant teal.

“What do you mean? Aren’t you the eager one?” You hum, rolling your hips against the rigidness trapped behind the prison of sweatpants.

“Hmm.” He sucks in a breath through his teeth.

Large hands feel down along the plumpness of your ass as they drag a flimsy bit of fabric down your thighs. Daintier hands pull down the hem of sweatpants and briefs.

A fair exchange. Him helping you out of those ruined panties, and you freeing him from a compressed prison of cloth. Discarded and forgotten along the floorboards as the fog of passion obscured them from further consideration.

His vascular hands slide down the curves of your body, settling on your hip as your legs plant themselves on either side of his body. Alhaitham coaxes the hem of his stolen button-down just above your midriff. Sharp eyes surveying the puffiness of your clit, glistening with temptation.

Lowering your hips a breathy sigh leaves his lips and yours as the ridges of his cock drag against your slick folds. A few slow rolls starting from his leaking tip sliding down, thick veins skimming against your swollen clit. Precum mixing with arousal in a sinful concoction along his length.

Perhaps he should convince you to participate in more naps if he knew it’d make you this excitable.

“Oh,” you hum aloud, pausing your hips as you reach over to the bedside table.

Pulling open the drawer and rustling about a box followed by the crinkling of foil. Holding up the corner of the packet to your lip, tearing the foil while your gaze held his. Taking your time in dragging the condom out from its package. Easing it down his length while your fingers traced along, feeling each twitch and shudder.

“You sure do know how to test my patience.”

“Hmm?” You feign innocence.

A pair of shaky breaths mingle as Alhaitham helps position his engorged tip at your dripping entrance. Your hand guides him while raising your hips.

Other hand pressing his chest down for support as your thighs sink back down, a shameful squelch accompanying heavy breaths as your walls welcome his cock’s fat head.

Weeping pussy engulfing his girth in bit by bit until you clit kisses his pelvis. Sending jolts of searing pleasure that caused your satin walls to twitch and tighten.

Releasing a breathy sigh as you gather your senses.

Drawing out his cock inch by thick inch, sloppy trails of arousal caught on each ridge before dropping back down. Earning low grunts and sighs each time your satin walls swallowed his girth. The rhythm of your hips is paced and controlled despite how Alhaitham’s fingers dug into your skin.

A whine living your drooling lips with each slap of his skin against your clit. Pushing each tantalizing inch to stroke your starved walls until his skin claps against yours with a wet kiss. The bedframe creaks with each calculated movement, back and forth, back and forth the wood sings along.

Your head was light, intoxicated by a feverish potion of lust and desire. Feeling him reach the deepest depths, fat tip grinding against those spots which made your legs falter momentarily each time.

Utilizing the strength of both your arms now to support yourself. However, the jolts of pleasure that shot up your spine with each roll of your hips were too maddening to stop.

His calloused fingers massage circles into your hips. Squeezing the plush flesh to ground his sanity, watching your lewd face as you shamelessly bounced on him for your pleasure. Observing the subtle ripples with each slap of your hips and the jumps of your perky breast.

The ghostly touches of your fingers skim across his lips, prompting his eyes to connect with yours. Lush and glossy lips parted with your deep pants as your lust-hazed eyes peer down at him, unspoken plea inscribed within them. Who is he to not fulfill your desires?

Lurching his upper body up, he answers your plea, capturing your lips with his. Swiping his tongue against your bottom lip, deepening the kiss. A messy and feverish tangle as if to replace the air in your lungs with his.

Mewls and whimpers muffled by his skin, your hands moving to perch themselves on his broad shoulders. Your quivering legs grew limp as the strength of his hands took over. Barely processing the sweet nothings whispered as your core relishes in the fullness. Like an ache that’s been finally satisfied.

He wondered if tonight’s excessive vigor was fraying his control, or if your body was just this addictive.

By now any notion of decency and integrity has long left you, your hand clawing into his shoulders, marking him with the scars of rapture. A harsh thrust of his hips recoils through you, a wanton moan reverbing off the walls as it forces your tangled lips to part.

Tongue unable to produce anything other than strained moans, your head nods into his broad shoulder as your hips ground against his. The wet squelch announces the reciprocation of your walls.

The intervals of those unrelenting rams increasing between the tender thrusts, half-lidded eyes trained on the shivers of your body. Cock sliding against satin ridges of your wall. Grunts and pants reverberate through his throat, teeth clenching as your heat engulfs him again. Reaching deeper into your welcoming core as your lips fall open.

“Is this not enough?” You could feel the mirth in his whisper.

Closer, deeper, more. You want more. Walls aching for more, for his girth to jostle your core more, to extinguish this all-consuming heat within you. Hips floundering in harmony with breathy mewls.

Pressing libidinous kisses along his throat feeling the vibrations of his grunts and pants, a deep chuckle was soon felt against your lips.

“Good grief you are a greedy little thing aren’t you.”

A deafening slam of skin resounds through the heavy air, swiftly followed by another and another. A new tempo in this waltz of passion takes over like a wave sweeping both of you out to a sea of indulgence.

Possessed by the desperation of chasing a white light, your hand rakes deeper into his toned arms. Seizing anything to prevent your mind from abandoning your sinful body as his girth twitches within your velvety folds.

Sanity like a foolish sailor who’s beckoned by the lure of a siren’s voice, uncaring of the rocks which will sink them to the very bottom of the bemused tides. Keening against your husband shamelessly, a shameless wife on the cusp of her second fall into ecstasy.

The heavy scent of lust, the smothering heat, his unrelenting and unshakable thrusts amalgamating into the spark that lit your nerves alight. Toes arched into the air and eyes reaching the back of your head. Sobs and incoherent babbles resounding through the room.

Your devious walls clamped around his dick with maddening convulsions, gummy muscles suckling against his girth eager to quell your aching greed. It was too much.

His fingers claw into your soft hips, pressing your cunt flush against his hips with a sloppy slap of skin. The bulbous tip prodding against that weakness deep within you. Bruising grip holding your body in place as his lips crash back into yours.

Swallowing down his breathless groans with your sweet mewls and praddles.

A heat is spilled into the rubber, making your greedy walls quiver amidst the aftershocks of ecstasy. Alhaitham’s hips twitch with each subsequent rip of his orgasm, thrusting his length further into your crowded cavity with each one. The filthiness of it all prolongs your sinful depravity.

Chest expanding with pants, your lopsided shirt falling further down your shoulder. Your eyes return from seeing blinding white, exhaustion drenching each fiber of your body.

Limp figure crumbling against your husband as his back lays back on the creaking headboard. Even before your worn mind could conjure a coherent thought, your hands caress his starlight tresses.

As his own breath evades him Alhaitham releases one hand to cup your cheek, thumb brushing softly against your smoldering skin, guiding your lips back to his.

Basking in the warmth forged between your bodies, between drumming heartbeats and breathless lungs.

Two bodies lay under silken sheets, skin freshly wiped clean of sweat as the crisp breeze brushed against the curtains gradually erasing the sinful haze. The cool air aids your rising and falling chest to pace itself.

Muscles and bones heavy with fatigue, yet your eyes couldn’t bring themselves to retire behind shut lids. Not when those dreary clouds have finally retreated.

The moon hangs high in the sky, finally free from the shroud of rain clouds, she sits among the twinkling dots. Twinkling dots were in actuality brilliant stars, some even larger and brighter than the beloved sun.

Glimmering lustrously as they traverse through the contentious vacuum of space and past other nameless stars. A scene from a late-morning market trip wanders its way back from the depths of your memory, bringing its musings with it.

“Something on your mind?” A timbre voice beckons your conscious mind back from its trek.

Teal eyes set upon yours as your heads rest on plush pillows, just a breath away from one another.

“Hm, just senseless musings.” Your gaze shifts away from the window.

In a changed world with millions of hands will your hands and his find each other to make two pairs of hands?

In a different time with a million pairs of legs, will your steps and his steps still coincide in time with each other

In a new life with a sea of new faces, will a stoic face and another stoic face spot each other in the crowd?

What is the likelihood of those odds?

“If you keep letting your thoughts fester, it’ll only bring trouble upon yourself in the morning from sleep deprivation.” He shifts his position, supporting his cheek on his fist as he stares down at your face.

You sigh because he spoke exactly what those whispers of rationale were urging you, but the scoffs of pride had deemed these rampant inquiries ‘childish’. However, it’s a bit hard to avoid his eyes now.

“I was just musing about the soulmates concept again,” you confess.

Alhaitham hums in curiosity.

“Do you…” You take a deep breath, forcing the hard-to-vocalize question from your tongue. “Do you think we’ll only be together in this life?”

He’s silent. Just the muted chorus of Summer crickets rejoicing over the conclusion of a rainstorm resounding through the space.

“In a different time, a different universe, or the next life, do you think we’ll be soulmates again?” You muster together the courage to peer up at his face.

“I don’t recall ever reading an article or paper related to this topic, so it’ll be convoluted to get an answer.” He brings his other hand to his face, signifying his musings.

Right, there isn’t even a definitive answer for what happens after life passes, an afterlife, a cycle, or nothing, no one knows. Was this the only universe where life exists or are there infinitely many far out there in the stars? Does anyone know?

Your hand pulls your blanket up to your face, partially to cover the growing shame creeping up your face. That haughty voice within was right, these baseless questions are silly and childish. Perhaps even too morbid to bring up so unprompted on this weekend night.

What were you expecting Alhaitham to even do? Did you want him to give you an answer? What can he even do? A question you can’t even begin to understand, why would you even expect him to have some solution prepared?

What to do now? Can you just take back your previous words from his memory, so he’ll just forget what you said? Maybe just ask him to quell any more mindless musings from plaguing you tonight by placing his lips on your forehead? So that you could finally drift into the realm of slumber.

However, is that temporary solution enough? Enough to stifle the contentions and riddles clattering together into a clamorous ruckus in your head? Could sleep even spare you from their tumult?

“The Membrane Multiverse Theory or reincarnation, hm, do you have any personal theories you’d like to share?” The sensation of his fingers grasping yours brings you back to reality.

Glancing at him with a quirk in your brow, you wait for him to continue.

“Who knows, maybe we’ll be the first to publish something for this topic.” His thumb runs along your knuckles.

“So, is there a speculation or possible rationale you feel particular to?” Teal eyes reconnect with yours.

“Well…” You sigh, relishing in the warmth of his hand as you concoct a half-baked theory.

“There’s stardust from stars that had burst billions of years ago, that have somehow ended up on this planet. Subsequently, every being on earth has the atoms of stars in them. So, naturally by the law of conservation, the earth is where the atoms of the human body will return.”

“Based on the law that atoms cannot be created or destroyed?” He drones.

“Yes, they all had to come from something before them. The carbon in muscles, the calcium in bones, and the iron in blood. The atoms that make up you and I might become part of something else, or even of different people too.”

“Hm, that sounds probable.”

“But, then this brings up a whole new host of questions, such as, if the new people our atoms become a part of are even ‘us’? Will they ever meet? What if you become a tree and I a rock? What if the atoms of you end up on one side of Teyvat and I on the other end?”

You peer into his irises, but you were just searching for an answer that isn’t there.

For his beryl irises were impassive. But it was the impassive foundation you needed to ground your rambling thoughts and nonsensical musings into the desolate truth of it all.

The warmth of his hand slips away.

“Never mind, I suppose it’s the most logical to conclude that we’re just soulmates in this instance of time, in this universe, and only here.” Your hand closes over the empty space he left.

Maybe it’s wise to dismiss it as silly rambling and then withdraw from his indecipherable eyes. Is it too late to put this plan into motion now?

The weight of a muscular arm is draped over your waist, hand pulling you closer unlike your ploy to escape.

“But I have a few theories I haven’t shared yet.” He glances out toward the bedroom window.

“While the theory of reincarnation currently doesn’t have any solid scientific backing, in some way, the law of conservation of mass does give a bit of merit to that notion.” Alhaitham draws circles into the small of your back.

You hum in response.

“The atoms that created us will return to the earth after us and become a part of something or someone else’s molecular structure. A tree or a rock, a human or a beast, it’s all probable. However…” Beryl eyes return to meet yours.

“What’s stopping them from repeating the same molecular structures as right now?” He asks.

Maybe it was his turn to peer into your eyes to search for an answer, an answer currently brewing and forging between your united gazes.

“What’s stopping these atoms from returning to these exact molecular structures in the future? In a different time, the atoms of us now could one day in the far future come together again and make ‘us’ once more. Maybe just you, maybe just me, or maybe both at the same time.”

He frees his other hand from the duty of supporting his head, broad body settling down into the bed and blankets, allowing his face to move closer to your level upon his pillow.

“What’s the likelihood of those odds? Me and you again?” You ask.

Alhaitham pauses. All the bright minds of science, mathematics, and physics, have yet to come up with a formula to calculate such a thing.

What would be the factors plugged into the equation? And how accurate would it even be?

The ashen-haired man wasn’t sure, but there was at least a statistical observation that would provide some basis.

“A true 0% chance is an absolute impossibility, just as nothing can be proven absolutely 100%. Since we don't know the absolutes of time, existence, or physics. So, there’ll always be a non-zero chance.” Feeling the drums of your heartbeat against his chest.

“Then, when they do, I think I’ll spend my life pondering what could fit into the spaces between my fingers like this.” He slips his hand into the gaps of yours, intertwining them.

Then finally, he saw the smile he’d been yearning for rising on your lush lips. The ends of your eyes crinkle as it make its way to your irises as well. Your grip mirrors his as you nestle your face closer to his.

“You won’t get tired of this stoic face?” You taunt.

“Will you get tired of mine?” He counters.

Your shoulders quiver with stifled giggles.

“No, no I won’t,” you promise him.

“Then I won’t,” he promises back.

His larger hand brings yours closer to himself, all the while your attentive eyes watch failing to keep the curl of your lips under control.

“Any thoughts on the Membrane Multiverse Theory? How will your astute mind surmise the possibility of us laying like this somewhere else in the stars?” Honeyed-voice mimicking awe as your face inches closer.

“I believe I’ve shared enough, I’d much rather hear what your brilliant postulate is.” His tone casted with mirth, but the bite missing from teal eyes.

Letting a soft hum, your mind rifling through all the paragraphs and journals your hands had ever thumbed through.

The soft rhythm of his breaths kept time. Stringing the words together on your tongue, you hope this monologue of yours will provide some amusement for him.

“If universes are randomly put into 2 boxes of ‘yes’ and ‘no’, then on average the number of universes in each box would be the same. For every universe I’m not with you, there’ll be equally as many where I am with you.”

A coin toss, perhaps it was all just a coin toss after all. Whether or not the Akasha paired a stoic face with another stoic face, for the gaps of your fingers to fit his so perfectly.

It could have all been a coin toss, for one half to stumble upon the other half cruelly parted from them by the hands of unseen gods.

“Something akin to a bijection existing between both sets of universes?” He cross-examines.

“Maybe… If we were to assign one type ‘yes’ to a positive integer, and the other type ‘no’ to a negative integer, then perhaps we can construct a bijection from the positive and negative integers.” Your brow furrows in contemplation.

“If we submit this theory do you think the Akademiya would publish it?”

“Not likely, bijections are usually made between sets of elements like numbers, not sure if bijections can be applied to something like whole universes. I’m just hypothesising nonsense,” you sigh.

“But they did publish the nonsense known as The Lifespan of Love,” he interjects.

“Hm, then maybe there’s a non-zero chance they’ll publish our nonsense too.” You stifle a scoff.

“Hm,” Alhaitham hums in amused agreement.

His free hand pulls the covers further up over your frame then smoothing out the wrinkles. Observing the growing delays between your slowing blinks.

“Only you and I would turn pillow talk into an academic deliberation.” You couldn’t hold back the giggle any longer.

He sighs in agreement, nestling his head closer to yours on the plush pillows, teal gaze never once leaving yours.

“It’ll make any romantic keel over and die from how dry it is, wouldn’t it, Haitham?”

“I say let them.”

Scoffing and shaking your head at his crude declaration as a yawn slips past your lips, a conclusion to this nonsensical academic deliberation.

With one hand still intertwined in the tender grasp of another you pull Alhaitham closer. So that the spaces of your body could lay against the spaces of his.

The warmth of his skin mingling with the warmth of yours, pressed against one another. You drawing mindless shapes into his back, his hand tracing senseless ruins into yours.

Perhaps, an illogical attempt to echt memories into the stardust in your bodies.

So he and you could imprint the memory of each other into the very fibers of your beings. Then maybe someday when these atoms return to these exact molecular structures, they’ll remember this too.

The law of conservation of mass, the probabilities upon probabilities, and bijections used in an inconsequential pseudo-academic ramblings to no one but an audience of silent stars.

Alhaitham’s certain no academic publisher would spare a glance at them.

But this nonsensical instance in the continuum of time, feeling the rhythm of your heart on the other side of his chest next to his own, is his most precious epiphany.

Fin~

©️vivalabunbun DON’T PLAGIARIZE, REPOST, OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS.

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onlyseokmins · 9 months

Text

babymaker • c.s.c

Pairing: choi seungcheol x afab!reader Genres: smut (minors dni!), roommates!au, fwb!au, lil angst if you squint plus gross fluff Warnings: swearing, mentions of past rough/marathon sex, edging, overstimulation, fingering, mentions of oral sex (fem. receiving, male teasing), biting (bc i wrote this), scratching, marking, mentions of car/exhibitionism sex, objectification, degradation, slight choking, tiny obsession w/ cheol's ass + tatts, making out and tons of kithing uwu, reader's a brat and economic major, cheol's a wealthy arrogant bbygorl, creampies <3, breeding kink, light mentions of babytrapping (look at the title lmfao), lots of touching and groping and teasing, sappy stuff ew, messy sex, kinda bulge kink haha, paragraph/word heavy, throwing in some silliness as usual, & lmk if i missed smth WC: 7.9k A/N: i know it's like a month late but this was suppposed to be for cheol's birthday lmfao but it's also meant to be a sequel to Lusty Gallant although it can be read on it's own ig esp since the characters seem ooc </3 also thanks to @hwanghyunjinenthusiast for giving me details on what cheol kithes taste like mwah

Seungcheol and you still live together. And yes, that means you're still committed to fucking on every surface possible in the very nice apartment space comfortable for two.

Roommates with benefits works out well for the both of you — seeming to lean mostly in your favor.

University is a hop and a skip away, close enough for Seungcheol to swing by on his way home from the office with a minor detour. The attractive man's appearance always causes several students to squeal and twirl their hair when he parks next to the sidewalk in a sleek, expensive black and red car. Silver rings that probably cost as much as your tuition adorn long fingers as they tap, tap, tap against the leather steering wheel while he waits.

Seungcheol looks for you over the rim of fake sunglasses perched on the tip of his nose and tongue poking between brilliant white teeth revealed by a smug smirk. Your friends are not subtle — a few in-the-know of what kind of arrangement you have with him and the majority of others not — when they dig an elbow into your ribs or smack your arm in excitement.

You loathe the gawking stares with the same amount of intensity as the tiny sparkle of delight that allows yourself to bask in Seungcheol's showy display of attention that's only partially for you. Aware of what he really loves is soaking up everyone focused on him, brushing back bangs with a pleased grin after checking himself out for the hundredth time in the rearview mirror.

Still, the man is as punctual as clockwork despite a hectic schedule. Deluding yourself is fun whenever he rolls down the window and asks just loud enough for onlookers to hear and swoon over, "How was night class, sweet stuff? Did my luckiest charm learn anything new to advise me on the market's trends?" and receiving an eye roll in return.

"I keep saying you don't have to do this," you remind him every. single. time. because you're sincerely fine walking back the same route you take in the morning.

"Nonsense, it'd be a sin to let a pretty little thing like you walk the city streets in the dark all alone. 'sides it's on my way."

"Of course, as long as it's convenient."

"Convenient?" he repeats with a cocked eyebrow and watches as you slide into the ridiculous car with a cute but sulky pout. An indication that something has ruffled your feathers, if even just a little.

You know not to slam the door too hard when closing it because the one time you did just to be a brat, your battered pussy paid the price. It was very sore for a good couple of days after being repeatedly edged for hours as punishment. First by his fingers during the drive home, next with his mouth on the hood of said car after he'd pulled into the garage, and then teasing touches along the several little pit stops on the way to the bedroom.

All until you were pressed face-down into silky sheets, finally allowed to let go for the first time of the night with his thick girth easing its way inside of your aching cunt to the hushed words of, "Have to touch my baby gently, treat 'em with lotsa care. Always gotta play nice with the things I like, 'kay?"

Safe to say, you learned your lesson. Who wouldn't after being nearly bedridden and limping around for almost two days?

Seungcheol lets out the same kind of disappointed huff when you apologized to him for having to take care of you after that particularly harsh sex marathon — or any time, for that matter. "I've never thought of it as an inconvenience."

"You're a busy man."

"Not so busy that I can't pick you up, 'specially given that we live together."

"Under various terms and conditions. One of them being that I put up with all your inconveniences, not vice versa."

"Then simply think of it as an additional nuisance of mine you have to deal with. You know I won't do anything you don't want, but at least let me have this so I know you're safe." Another harsh sigh leaves his mouth as he adds, "Even if the university was on the other side of town, I'd be there."

"Yeah, okay."

While there's a general love-hate relationship with your sassy behavior, it's in times like these where he extremely dislikes it since the timing is rather improper to fuck it out of you. Alas, he's left to fumble for an alternative that presents him as a man who possesses some semblance of decorum.

"Can drive something else, find a car that doesn't draw so much attention."

"It's not the car," you snap back without thinking. Lips pressing together in a thin line when Seungcheol's fingers that wish they were on your thigh drum menacingly on the console as a substitute, rings flashing under the glow of the passing streetlights.

"Then what is it?" Your name falls from his lips in a soft, commanding kind of plea.

Lucky for you, the short drive is almost over and you can avoid answering for the last couple of minutes. Pretending to mull it over as you focus on steadying the pounding thump of your heart and the erratic breath caught in your lungs.

"It's nothing," you lie fairly easily, already slinking out of the car the minute he brakes in the garage and ignoring the dark brown eyes trained on you because they will make you hesitate. You have to stay firm or end up caught in his trap. "Just tired, 's all. I'm gonna head to bed early, see you in the morning?"

And you don't wait for a response. Gently closing the car door and then sprinting as unsuspiciously as possible into your designated bedroom. Seungcheol won't follow or pry for now. He's always made a point to respect any boundaries you set and the promise to see him when you wake up will keep the man at bay for now. And you sure as hell were going to use all of that to your advantage, curling up under a blanket and trying to figure out what the fuck is going on.

This "roommates with a multitude of benefits" arrangement worked. Chugging along like a well-oiled mechanism. So why were you contemplating the risk of messing it up and throwing the machine off its steady track? For something so fleeting? So emotional? The one thing that always fucks up these kinds of relationships?

Sure, you were in love with the way Seungcheol carried himself. His swagger. His money. Confidence, charisma, oh… and his cock, too. Who wouldn't be? But now, oh no, now you were also in love with the man himself — stupid Choi Seungcheol!

It was a gradual build. Always there in the background. All it took was for you to acknowledge its existence. Perhaps it was meant to play out this way. But you were still going to hold him responsible as an equal in contributing to this mess just as much as you were for falling. Your fingers clutch at the blanket, the poor fleece serving as an unfortunate outlet for your frustration.

When did the crazy marathons dwindle out? By no means had the two of you stopped fucking — absolutely not. It just meant that, well, rather than Seungcheol just fucking you, he more or less made love to you.

You feel a shiver down your spine and scream into a pillow at the worms writhing in your brain.

The sex was still terrific. You habitually muffle your sounds as it is — not ones of pure frustration like tonight — but out of extreme pleasure. The filthy debauchery hadn't changed either. The two of you deeply reveled in your depraved dynamics and more insane acts, maybe even getting dirtier once this subtle shift happened.

Safety. Security. Seungcheol.

Words you would've never thought to use in relation to him.

And then there was the aftercare. A strange new intimacy. He cuddled in bed after taking the effort to clean each other up for a good night's rest. Remaining there fast asleep and quietly snoring long after you untangle yourself from the comforting warmth of his arms to start the day. Mornings were no longer cold because he chose to stay.

Weekends were becoming your favorite too. When he waddles around shirtless, barely awake upon discovering you gone from his embrace. A back-hug immediately when finding you again. Soft gropes at your curves and low groans of contentment while pressing his nose into the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent mixed with his while you prep breakfast. Turning you around for kisses and pursuing long, slow makeout sessions that were quickly becoming the norm. Only for you to accidentally bite down a little too hard on his bottom lip when you realize the toast is burning.

You miss the way his eyes shine with affection as they follow you panicking around the kitchen. When did this big apartment of his begin to feel so alive? Even previous roommates and their loud yammering hardly made him feel at home. Tonguing at the indentation marks of your teeth molded into his lip and the sting that keeps him rooted in the present moment, the man meets your flustered expression with a grand, playful smile.

Ah, he thinks fondly, obviously.

Afternoons no longer consist of being stowed away in respective bedrooms or different rooms. Seungcheol sits at the kitchen table, furrowed eyebrows as he chips away at the excel sheet reflected in the glasses perched on his nose. You sit across from him, dutifully typing up assignments for Sunday night submittal.

He'll ask occasional questions just to learn more about you, your classes, and your dreams. Or if you simply need any help. Meanwhile, you make sure you're both staying hydrated and taking necessary breaks to rest your eyes from the screens. Sometimes you'll even get to assist him by analyzing a report. The real-world example aids as a unique use case scenario to better understand the concepts outlined in your textbooks.

You really were Seungcheol's lucky charm. He often wonders if you'd like to apply to work at the company he's in. But he'd hate to pressure or patronize you. So ultimately all he can do is stare in awe and provide steady encouragement as you formulate calculations, clean up the data, and transform it all into a presentable display of information.

It's usually his turn to cook in the evenings. Constantly getting distracted by your presence that he insists needs to be around to taste-test the vegetables that keep overcooking when he gets too caught up in tasting you. Innocent smooches here and there amid shy giggling that seems far too intimate than if he lapped at something else like in the past when he eagerly devoured your cunt right there on the countertop.

When dinner is served, you honestly never know or care how tasty it is or isn't because Seungcheol himself is the spice in your life. Your plain world now explodes in a bountiful amount of flavor thanks to him. Later, you tidy up the kitchen together — similar to how you move in tandem to freshen up in the bathroom after sex and much like a married couple would act.

And that's why your damn roommate leaves you wanting more.

These nights he kisses you bathed in the moonlight, working up a blistering heat that doesn't just simmer in your lower abdomen but follows the journey of his dedicated mouth. Upwards the wildfire burns, swooping into your chest and underneath the skin of your cheeks until it tangles with the expert tongue poking in between your lips. Seungcheol charts familiar territory with dancing fingertips across your skin, re-committing it to memory while yours sear into his, scratching at the wide expanse of his back and burying themselves in the curls of his unruly hair.

He takes you to bed — not always in a sexual manner — and it really doesn't even matter how you end up there because that is where you'll find yourself anyway. Falling asleep in his arms and waking up to repeat this strange and newly established cycle.

So the fact that you are sleeping alone speaks volumes. What is said, you're unsure but little do you know that Seungcheol continues to fear you might slip out of his hands. The attached-detached battle strategy always lurks around the corner and somehow, it's almost better when he treats you like some sort of fucktoy only.

The gentle sparkle in his eye was shielded by the switch to a mean glint, eyeing you up like you're nothing better than a piece of meat. No longer acting as the sweet yet cocky, handsome roommate you've gotten to know and grown feelings for. But reminiscent of the aloof and arrogant — still deviously attractive — man who propositioned this whole situation a little over a year ago.

Like now, as you kneel on all fours naked. Save for the humble pair of underwear whose innocence has long been destroyed due to the stains of your arousal mixed with Seungcheol's cum. Ruining the fabric that nestles between your legs for the sake of modesty you've thrown away hours — no, months — ago.

The very man sits before you on the poor couch that's seen its fair share of sinful acts. He's reclining comfortably, black t-shirt stretching out across a firm chest and broad shoulders while infamous gray sweatpants strain against thick thigh muscles as he manspreads so casually with a large hand laid over his crotch. Teasingly hiding the thing you so desire and are begging for.

But he wants you to work for it. Harder. A lot more than you already have. Put on a proper show of how much you deserve to have him. And want him.

"Come," he commands and pats his thigh like he's talking to some stray dog. When you go to sit back on your knees to stand, his eyes narrow as they darken. "Crawl."

What you don't know is Seungcheol would easily yield to and for you if you'd just let him. Be honest with him. Tell him your feelings. Unfortunately, it's in both of your natures to be hella stubborn. Too prideful to admit defeat and be completely vulnerable. You've come to an impasse.

But crawl to him physically you do, shamelessness long gone. Because what could be more shameful than how willing you are to be used by him and how wonderful it feels to be degraded?

Obviously admitting how much you like the damn man.

Goosebumps thrillingly cover your skin at how the gaze trained on you never loses its intensity with you coming closer, following all the way until your head is between his spread legs. Because he knows at least this is the most definitive way he can hold onto you for now.

"Kiss me."

And you obey, puckering your lips and tenderly placing them against the growing bulge beneath the gray fleece. Looking up with lidded eyes, blinking slowly as you let out audible smooch noises along the hard length before mouthing at where the tip lies. Leaving an even damper spot than the salty excess seeping through the fabric, suckling around the area to replace it with the hot saliva dribbling from your tongue that laps enthusiastically at the taste.

"C'mon pet," Seungcheol's tone is mocking in its chastisement, but the rough pad of his thumb rubbing your warm cheek is gentle. "Gimme a real one."

"Yes sir," falls breathlessly out of your mouth at the assumed permission, hands quickly reaching for the waistband of his sweats only to retract just as fast upon the disapproving click of his tongue.

"Not like that, up."

Uncertain, you brace yourself with the support of his quads so you're kneeling. Leaning in and tentatively pressing a kiss to the spot where you know at least one vein starts from the bottom of his pelvis and leads up to his abdomen. Tongue poking out in an attempt to feel and trace it, also effectively wetting his shirt just for good measure.

This time, a wistful sigh escapes between the man's pouty lips despite the furrowing of eyebrows because you're still not quite getting the message. The hand on your cheek slides down to your neck, briefly running his thumb tantalizingly across the side of your throat, landing on your shoulder, and grasping at your arm. Tugging up until you follow along with the motion and a bit of a surprised squeak, ultimately landing right where he wants you — straddling his lap.

"Oh," you mutter in surprise, abruptly snapped out of the lust haze that had been clouding your mind.

Center of gravity thrown off balance until your knees finally ground themselves on either side of his spread legs. Your hands hover awkwardly in the air, struggling to find something to hold onto before resolutely settling on the back of the couch. But not before Seungcheol's sturdy hands steady your hips, sporty reflexes acting faster than you can complete any of these actions.

"Oh, indeed. Already too fucked out to think?"

"No… s-sorry."

"You can make it up to me," he teases and you wait for the punchline, "with a proper kiss." It's both amazing and brow-raising when the Choi Seungcheol lets out the lowest of whines at the smallest sign of hesitation. "Don'tcha think it's the least I deserve today?"

Spoiled is what he is — but it is his birthday after all — so, of course, you're more than willing to indulge. Although the trepidation is real, manifesting in the tense stiffening of your body and the acceleration of your heart rate.

"Relax," he says gleefully — a little too gleeful. "I don't bite."

"Most times, not."

"If anyone's the biter between us, it's you so…"

The taunting murmur of, "Go ahead and bite baby," turns into a satisfied groan when you press your lips against his. Contrary to the jest and much to his delight, you're gentle. It's so adorable that he finds himself melting below you into a puddle of goo. Becoming absolute putty, lips readily parting so you can lick into his mouth.

He tastes like cherry chapstick and coffee, flavors so Choi Seungcheol that it hurts with how much they alone can possibly overwhelm you. Your nose scrunches, eyebrows following suit. Unaware of how he observes close-up through heavily lidded eyes because he wants more and more of what he can't get enough of. Afraid you might disappear. Even though you're right here — on his lap, kissing him sweetly. Yet you're still not all there.

So, he works on anchoring you to him — somehow, some way. One hand urges you to release your support on the couch, bringing your arm down to sneakily thread his fingers between yours. Naturally, the opposite one falls to eliminate the odd angle and rests on his shoulder. Seungcheol's other palm shifts to splay across your bare back and push you further into his chest, your sensitive nipples brushing against the cotton material of his shirt.

When that burning hand also encourages your ass to sit on his thighs to nearly smother him into the couch cushion and your damp core effectively presses onto the heated length stirring inside his sweats — he finally gets what he's been waiting for. The wanton moan that bubbles out of your throat is quickly swallowed up by the man himself, who ceases the passive role in the makeout session and kisses you back with a fervor that quite literally steals your breath.

He waits for you to surrender.

Not to be confused with submission. Seungcheol no longer cares about any fucked-up or sexual kind of power play nor does he want to win. He doesn't even want you to yield to or for him. Oh, he wishes you would of your own free will — but if you at least give in to the moment, to the feelings of now, and the warmth shared between you two — that's the most he can ask for and what he's grateful to accept for the time being.

Your fingers slip beneath the neckline of his shirt, inadvertently starting to trace along the same pattern as the ink that decorates his skin. The menace of a man smirks, pausing his assault on your lips to croon knowingly, "Wanna move this to your room?"

It's annoying how Seungcheol can read you even before your mind can think. And it's even more irritating at how your body reacts, thighs betraying you. Viscerally squeezing around his figure today, much like the memory of them wrapped above his waist the other day. Legs spread by him in between them as you clung to his body that had been railing into you like there's no tomorrow. Your gaze locked over his shoulder at the man's pride and joy — his nice ass — reflected in the mirror deliberately across from your bed along with the inked designs of things he held dearly marked across his back. Including the healing scratches from your nails.

"No," you grit out and break the kiss to shoot him a pointed glare, "just take off your stupid shirt."

"Thought you'd never ask."

No one should ever look that sexy taking off clothes, but of course, Seungcheol does. Any snark left in you immediately fizzles out at the teasing reveal and intentionally flexed expanse of his stomach as well as his bare chest. And yet something shifts in the air after he throws the shirt off to the side, covering his torso with his arms and giggling.

"Stop looking at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like you're gonna devour me whole, it's making me shy!"

It's not like you can stop yourself. Goddamnit, even that weird farmer's tan is drool-inducing. And the boyish smile he dons isn't helping either. You scoff to salvage a fraction of sanity, hands back on his bare shoulders and leaning in close enough for your noses to almost touch.

"Bullshit."

"Bet."

"You love it when people stare at you."

There's a beat of silence. "But you look at me… differently."

"Hey — don't get weird on me, Seungcheol, or your dick's gonna deflate."

Normally he'd bite back at you. Stuff like: "My dick's just fine," or "Baby, it's so easy to get hard around you," and "You'd appreciate if my dick got smaller 'cause it wouldn't make you whine so much," but this time, he doesn't. He just stares at you. Thinking. Long enough for you to start getting antsy, unable to hold eye contact for any longer than two minutes, especially with him so close.

"What?"

"You like me, don't you?"

It's the damn question he throws around all the time and your eyes roll up out of habit. "Yeah, I like you better without a deflated — "

"Forget about my cock for a bit."

"Kind of hard to do," you fire back and try to grind down on the very inflated length twitching needily for the snug cunt it senses between the layers of clothes cruelly separating it from its warm home.

Of course, Seungcheol is a little too familiar with your ploys and swats at your behind before squeezing your hips. "I know it is for a cock-hungry slut like you," he growls out in frustration before reverting back to his original soft tone, "but just humor me for a second."

"… Alright."

"You like me," he states and then repeats it in earnest when you sigh again, "you really like me. I would even be so confident enough to think you're… you're in love — "

"Well quit thinking," you interrupt with a snap, "I know your high and mighty arrogance causes you to believe everyone worships the ground you walk on but that doesn't mean a damn thing!"

Seungcheol's caramel eyes flash — with irritation or hurt, you can't quite place the swirl of emotions. "So that's all it is, huh? Just a figment of my imagination. A totally unfair projection of my thoughts and feelings onto you."

"If you wanted a session so badly on your birthday, then you should've scheduled with your therapist. And if you didn't want to continue fucking, then we could've stopped after the first round 'cause I was fine but you wanted more."

"You and I both know we're not just 'fucking'," he snarls, "and yeah, I do want more and that's why I need to know — with or without the sex, forgetting about the looks I know aren't just lust-filled because I see the ones you think I don't, I need to hear it out loud — do you like me?"

The plea of your name is the doomed cherry on top, heart thudding to the floor. It feels like the breath has been punched out of you. Though his skin is fiery warm beneath your palms it's not enough to thaw the way you've completely frozen over.

"Fine," you eventually wheeze out and Seungcheol relaxes — relieved — despite the crack in your voice, only to tense at your next words. "I'll move out tomorrow. Might take me a few days to get all my stuff gathered though."

"Wait… wait, wait… '' And this is the moment when the two of you find out that the black jujitsu belt he'd earned wasn't all for naught, effectively using a well-maneuvered technique that takes you off his lap and onto your back before you can escape from him again. "Please."

He begs, desperation evident in the way he clings to you and flops his forehead defeatedly onto your shoulder. As if he isn't the one who has you pinned to the couch cushions. He's never tried to hinder you before but honestly, he thinks he's hit the breaking point.

Don't you dare fucking leave me, is what is thought — but what comes out is a broken, "Why?"

"Because… because I… I breached the c-contract and made you uncomf — "

Seungcheol's head flies back up. "Then it should be me who moves out 'cause I'm pretty sure I violated the contract first."

"Wh-what?"

"Look at me," he commands and grips your chin so you can't turn away, "look at me, baby." And when your eyes squint open to stare into his, he fixes you with the most sincere expression you've ever seen. "I'm in love with you."

Tears spring to your eyes at the wild admission. Neither of you are sure if your hearts are mending or splitting to fuse and complete the other's. What you do know is that Seungcheol melts into you with a kiss of elation and celebration, the big man further turning into an even bigger pile of mush when your hands cup both of his cheeks during it and a thumb rubs soothingly at his jaw. He smiles against your lips when you whisper back, "I love you too."

"Took you long enough." Your flustered protests are cut short when he sits up to lean against the opposite armrest, pulling you on top of him like your original positions. "Have a present for you."

"But you're the one who should be receiving gifts."

He shrugs. "I already have the prettiest one right here in my arms… even if I was almost left alone on my birthday."

"Sorry," you stroke his pouty lips, "to be fair, I was going to wait until tomorrow."

"While holed up all by yourself in your room in the meantime. Little shit, you know I wouldn't have let you go, right?"

"Yeah… because you love me!"

There's an extra giddiness to your exclamation that's contagious enough to crack Seungcheol's chagrined expression with another grin.

"And you were gonna leave 'cause you loved me…" He lets out a huff. "Whatever, water under the bridge. Anyways, the gift. It's underneath the couch."

Curious, you lay flat and brush your hand beneath the furniture. Waving it around back and forth in the blind search, subsequently shifting all over Seungcheol's chest — bare skin gliding across bare skin.

You snicker, feeling his cock stiffening once more with your movements. "Calm down, horndog."

"It's not my fault you're rubbing your very sexy body all over me!"

"… Why'd you even decide to put it here?"

"'Cause you never clean."

"Hey! Don't make me bite your dick off." It twitches beneath you. "Freak."

"We'll see who the real freak is when I go ahead and get it pierced with a barbell you'll like."

"Oh, fuck off!" comes your retort and he grumbles at the lighthearted jab while your hand finally bumps against a hard box that you grasp onto tightly. Pulling it out and frowning at the suspicious amount of dust covering it. "Gee, how long was this down here?"

"… Six months."

Your eyes bug out. "Six months?!"

"Told ya you didn't clean under there!"

"Oh yes, because that's the point here."

"It kind of is," Seungcheol teases despite the slightly wistful look in his eyes. "Knew you wouldn't find it there."

All you can do is shake your head, gingerly opening what you assume to be a jewelry box only to abruptly shut it out of pure shock. "What the fuck did I just see?!"

"Do… do you not like it?"

"That's so not the question that needs to be asked right now."

"It kind of does 'cause if you don't want it, I'll buy something else. "

"You've gotta be shittin' me." You fix him with a hard glare though he barely reacts to it. "How much of your bank account did you deplete for that?"

A satisfied, cocky smirk is all you get in return. "'Tis but a bucket of water taken out of the ocean, sweetheart. Trivial."

"Choi Seungcheol."

"C'mon," he takes the box from you with one large hand and pops it back open. You can actually feel the ache in your eyes set in at the sight of the dazzling jewels once again. "Thought it'd look gorgeous on you."

It's easy to visibly melt at his words because he's such a smooth talker along with the knowledge that he's kept this hidden for approximately half of a year. But that still doesn't distract you from the insane amount of delicate crystals forming a beautiful open heart shape linked to two short double-strands of diamond studs on either side that join together with a silver clasp.

"It looks expensive," you correct, "how much was it?"

"Hmm, well it's seventeen carats so… a couple thousand, maybe?"

Your jaw drops, eyes widening as one of Seungcheol's beefy fingers carelessly thumbs at the choker like the piece of jewelry couldn't pay off more than half of your student debt. You likely also get some type of look on your face because he clicks his tongue.

"Now, don't you worry your pretty little head about it. I would happily spend ten times as much to get something that expresses just a fraction of what your worth is — in the world and… to me."

"You're so sappy, what the heck."

"Better not start something you can't handle, love." Seungcheol kindly warns, a little affronted when his puppy dog eyes and babygirl pout aren't as effective at distracting you as he'd like. Well, there are other ways. "You can't return it without testing it first."

"Testing?"

"Mhm, but why don't you give your sugar daddy a kiss of gratitude first?"

You scoff. "The only thing you share in common with a glucose guardian is being filthy rich."

"Not because I'm sweet like sugar?"

"Maybe just a little," you admit and lean in to give him an even sweeter kiss, much like earlier. And like before, the man turns into a puddle of syrupy goo at the featherlight touches of your lips on his.

But it's different at the same time. Kissing your roommate has always been with a bit of restraint. That all fades away as you melt into him — safety, security, Seungcheol, surrender — the both of you addicted to and lost in one another's taste while everything else falls away.

Until the little shit that he is distracts you enough for him to deftly extract the choker from its box and fasten it around your neck. You hiss at the shock of cold metal and gemstones as well as the physical and economically ethical weight around your neck, breaking the makeout session.

"See? Gorgeous, just like I thought. Not that you can look at it right now… maybe next time, we'll test it, heh, in your room."

"So that's what you meant by test…"

The lightbulb finally goes off in your head but all you receive in response is a smug look. Unaware that the grand menace is pondering what position he'd like best to see the choker for the first time in action. Something inside him clicks after absentmindedly slipping a finger underneath one of the diamond chains and watching you attempt to swallow at the increase in pressure constricting your airflow.

It's all bright white teeth when he smiles and whispers, "On your back, baby."

And you shuffle backwards obediently, letting gravity take your body down in almost a mini trust fall, knowing there will be a soft landing and that Seungcheol would never let you fall — unless it's for him.

Indeed, he does fall with you. Bodies pressed close together before he starts a burning trail of kisses starting below where the jeweled collar lays sparkling prettily against your throat. Down between your breasts he goes, an appreciative squeeze to both with warm hands that follow along with his movement.

Little nibbles to your skin and brushes to your sides that first have you squealing at the sharp nips and ticklish sensations. They're accompanied by the upward curl of his lips that only spreads wider when those airy giggles of yours transition to light moans the closer he stakes his claim to the more intimate parts of your body.

He lovingly suckles the skin of your tummy, leaving stinging signs of affection littered around your belly button and right above the band of your panties. There, Seungcheol pauses and lifts his head to look directly at you, not even trying to hide the fiery swirl of lust and adoration in his eyes and it makes you wonder how you've ever missed it before.

But that's neither here nor there, every nerve in your system is lit up in a wave of heat that has your hips instinctively rising as if pleading with him. Enough that his brown irises can't help but flit down to observe with raised eyebrows only to meet your flustered expression again with a totally-full-of-himself stare.

"So sweet and needy," Seungcheol murmurs appreciatively and hooks both thumbs underneath the side wings of your underwear to tug them off. "So fuckin' messy too," he adds in a condescending tone as if someone between your legs isn't licking his lips like a man lost in the desert for days stumbling upon a hidden oasis.

The bold eye contact he gets a kick out of maintaining is broken just to watch how the fabric adheres to your center thanks to the mix of his cum from much earlier and the constant leak of arousal pooling from your heated core. He's slow in the process of removing the saturated clothing. Giddy anticipation building until it finally peels away with a suggestive squelch to reveal your creampied cunt.

A choked groan rumbles in his chest. You're caught in the struggle between snapping your legs together out of shyness or letting them fall open just as he likes, the fear of soiling the couch again no longer even a thought. But still in no rush, Seungcheol slips your panties down one leg and while they hang off the other, supports your heel in his palm to place butterfly kisses along your ankle.

You peek at him in between the fingers covering your eyes and heated cheeks. "What are you doing?"

"Admiring you." Smooch. "Adoring you." Peck. "Marveling at how beautifully wet you get… this all for me, love?"

"Yeah, so… so you should take re-responsibility."

"Oh? And how so? What for?"

"Mmph!" You jolt at how fast he moves to fling your underwear over his shoulder and hover over top of you, whispering naughty words into your ear while roughened finger pads brush against slick folds.

"For knockin' you up? Not my fault this hungry pussy is never satisfied no matter how many times I stuff it. Greedy lil' thing."

"'m s-sorry… I — oh! Ohh…"

"You don't sound sorry."

Seungcheol mocks the shuddering moan that spills past your lips like he hadn't just shoved two chunky digits past those slippery folds and into the suffocating warmth beyond. His pointer finger bears its usual silver ring, the cold metal there and around your neck causing you to break out in a sweat at the chill engulfing your whole body. All from the heat swirling from the neck down, the torturous buildup between your legs, and meeting in a firestorm that explodes in your gut and makes your cunt tighten around his moving digits.

Your right arm snakes behind his nape and clings around it for dear life, nearly slamming the man's face into your tits — not that he's complaining — while the other sneaks between your bodies. Trailing down to where Seungcheol's fingers plunge inside of you, running yours across his exposed knuckles to dampen them with the filthy mix of arousal and cumstains he's playing in before tugging and teasing at your clit right above his vigorous actions.

He clicks his tongue. "Now, what did I say about touching things that belong to me?"

"Don't touch without permission." A warning look that lacks any ferocity is shot your way but the corner of your lips quirks up, eyelashes fluttering, because he's really just full of shit. "And to handle… handle them with care, which 's all I'm doin'."

"Brat."

"You love me."

"Damn right, I do. But if you're gonna use that against me like this maybe I have no choice but to discipline you."

You whimper when he withdraws his fingers, the loss and emptiness a punishment itself. "D-don't be mean."

"I'm never mean to you."

"You're not." You acquiesce with a cute little sniffle, interlocking your hands behind his neck to bring him down nose to nose. "'cept when I want your dick but s'kay, love you anyways."

"Using the L-word on me now, huh? Speaking of which, I never got you back for the little stunt you tried to pull earlier."

"Wha — ?"

The new position you had pulled him into grants Seungcheol the full teasing power he was honored to be blessed with. A dripping cock leaks precum between your bodies and smears your belly with the hot excess. Supported by a forearm beside your head, he languidly strokes his hard length and snickers. Barely wedging the mushroomed tip into your moist outer folds with a noisy squish and emitting a strangled groan from the back of the man's throat. Just enough so you can feel the faint tantalizing burn his girth promises in its efforts to stretch out your cunt, a buzz to the underside of your deliciously sore and engorged clit upon contact.

He's all toothy when you moan in response. Wiggling his hips lets him dip in a little further for the sole purpose of watching your eyes glaze over and threaten to roll to the back of your head. Lips parting wider in an adorable 'o' shape.

"Thought you could just leave like it's nothing. As if I don't fuck you full of enough cum to babytrap you here with me… Oh? You'd like that wouldn't you, pussy tryna gobble me up like the slutty whore that you are."

"Mmph, ah… only yours!"

No one has to be your special someone to read your body so easily but it's the fact that he is the one who's able to make your cunt react and squeeze around him just like so that fuels his ego. A mean sneer chisels his softer face features — less of a reaction towards you and more of him struggling not to plunge his pelvis forward and rearrange your guts. Or even worse (better), to bust a nut inside, painting your velvet walls with a creamy white.

It would be so easy to slide in a little further… you're begging him with slurred words and a steady pulsating grip around his dick — just daring him to ease the rest of it inside.

But then you would never learn your lesson. And if there's one thing Seungcheol loves more than being wrapped up in the tight clench of your cunt, it's making you work for it. Show off how desperate and cock-drunk you are.

"Y'know, all you had to do was tell me. Would've fucked you on every surface of this house, make sure there wasn't a moment that passed where you didn't have my cum dripping down your legs." He relents with the most meager of thrusts forward, widening the spread of your pretty folds suckling around him. "Anything to keep my darling 'lil babymaker satisfied, pump you full every minute of the day and make sure it takes."

"Ch-Cheol… please! Wan' you so bad."

"You'd like that, right? Givin' you a baby so you stay here forever. We'll make as many as you want, I'll even take time off to help." The sudden rush of paternal instincts makes the man pause, chuckling and muttering more to himself, if anything, "maybe you've been tryna babytrap me all along."

"Jus' want, just want your dick."

"I know, baby."

Seungcheol simpers at your pitiful plea but the menace in him victoriously pulls out and away, the departing wet 'pop' as loud as the slight fracture in his heart at doing so.

"No!"

In visible grief, your seizing legs clamp at his side with your heels digging into the dip right before the curve of his ass, clawing at his shoulder blades like a cat. That does nothing though except squish his length against your needy cunt, gliding pathetically against it but not once inside.

He smirks and whispers hoarsely, "If you want it so bad, put it in yourself."

A shaky hand reaches down to grasp and stroke at his dick, inadvertently brushing against your swollen clit that has your hips jumping. You bite down on your lower lip in an attempt to concentrate, blindly guiding his slippery cockhead to where it rightfully belongs. All while Seungcheol watches with amusement and a pained expression of how heavenly your hand feels on him — and even more when you succeed and bully him inch by inch inside of your gummy walls that suction and ripple greedily.

"There we go, yeah fuck… just like that."

Further and further, squelch by squelch until your pussy stretches to swallow and take him all. Only a finger's width between your pelvises kissing one another, knuckles snug against his heavy scrotum. You release him with triumph, clinging again to his neck. Seungcheol takes the final push and you let out simultaneous moans when his balls settle warmly against your ass and the neatly trimmed hairs at the base of his shaft are flush with your pubic bone. The tiny rough strands becoming even more soft and soaked by all of the arousal leaking out of your hole and his slit.

"Mine," he affirms and sticks his pinky through the open diamond heart pendant, nail lightly scratching the front of your throat.

"Yours." You hold onto his wrist, finally feeling so deliriously full and giggling a bit because you're somewhat light-headed. "You're mine too."

"Yeah, all yours, baby."

Seungcheol's beginning thrusts are slow, deep, and concentrated. He barely leaves your warmth, only sliding a little bit back before a harsh thrust forward to nudge his tip against the rougher spot that has some drool dribbling at the corner of your mouth out of sheer pleasure.

That doesn't last long though, the both of you are extremely worked up and super sensitive. It only takes a few minutes before he's setting an erratic pace. Strong forearms cage your head to protect it and keep you somewhat stationary while giving him enough strength to absolutely plow into you without forgiveness.

The couple thousand dollar choker starts to shift against your skin, bouncing ever so slightly in time with each repetition of relentless slams into your pussy. Such a sight delights Seungcheol so much, eyes focused on the glittery accessory and listening for its rhythmic jingle — bruising your tender flesh in ways that his lips don't — that ends up drowned out by the continual slap of the hard fucking he delivers.

"Gonna cum for me, sweetheart? Let me fill ya up?"

"S-soon! 'm gonna cum… so soon!"

"I… know. Oh fuck, I know baby. Let go for me, please. Surrender… ngh 'n give it all to me."

A powerful climax washes over you like a surprise, the setoff finalized by the large hand placed on your tummy. Applying just enough pressure to feel every vein and ridge of the cock against your inner walls while on the outside, Seungcheol lets out a guttural and feral groan at the upward bulge beneath his fingertips.

You let go with a wail that's swallowed by his lips capturing yours. Your nails dig into whatever you're grasping onto, teeth unconsciously biting down on his tongue you meant to simply caress with your own.

He lets out a strangled "oomph!" but the pain is easily sedated by the seductive way you contract and massage his dick in your unraveling — and then unprompted, he's spilling over the edge too. Coating your walls in thick ropes of white that sear your insides, gobbling up the release with repeated clenches as you both pant and wait for the orgasmic bliss to fade out.

"I think you're so sexy." Seungcheol mumbles the words tiredly into your shoulder and the laugh you let out sounds more like a winded wheeze.

"How lucky I am that you think that, has the post-nut clarity hit yet or… ?"

"I'm serious. I love you."

"I love you too. Happy birthday to my perfect sugar boyfriend or whatever."

He snorts, lifting his head to send you a lazy grin. "Yeah, happy birthday to me — the luckiest bitch on the planet to be loved by you."

"Spoiled is more like it but yeah. I'd say I'm pretty lucky too."

Adoration shines in both of your weary eyes, though Seungcheol has the audacity to lick his now very dry and cracked lips. "Say, was I right in picking out your gift or do you need more test runs?"

"What I need is a hot bath — no funky business — and at least twenty-four hours of sleep."

"That sounds good too. Y'know… if we sleep for a whole other day and confirm our relationship then, we can fuck for two days straight every year as an anniversary celebration!" His voice lowers, already acting naughty and unintentionally work himself up. "And then I'm positive you'll be bred properly."

You slap his shoulder. Hard. "Choi Seungcheol!"

"'m just kiddin'," he blatantly lies and gently pulls out of your sloppy pussy. Grunting at the goop and messy wetness that got everywhere. "Think we'll need to get a new couch."

"Great idea! Now, you can spend your money on something practical."

"Love you too."

"God, what did I get myself into." When you roll your eyes, a toothy grin is what you receive in return.

"I dunno, love, but I think this roommates to fuck buddies to lovers arrangement will work out beautifully, don't you?"

You give him another kiss just to shut him up. If you ever admit he's right, well, that would be with a mouthful of cock and a story saved for another time.

onlyseokmins: September 2023 ©

#ez.creates #svthub #svt.smut #seungcheol smut #choi seungcheol smut #smut #svt smut #seventeen smut #kpop smut #scoups smut #I secretly loathe this fic 😭#2k 🎇

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actual-changeling · 8 months

Text

I wrote a little something inspired by the latest chapter from the wonderful oopsie!omens AU @asleepyy is writing. Definitely check out their comic here and leave some love!

They run into each other by chance, which carries a certain irony considering Jophiel has actively been looking for him. It is a small settlement, large enough to have a sprawling market filled with voices and movement, but not the kind of place he'd expect Azazel to be. Still, if the universe wills it so, he is certainly not going to question it.

Regardless of the circumstances, the demon seems to continuously hold back an ocean of anxiety, wave after wave crashing on the rocky shores and spilling over, and today is no different. He is pressed against a stone wall at the edge of the square, the shade providing both some escape from the flickering heat and cover, keeping him hidden and inconspicuous.

Jophiel strolls through the crowd, weaving around the humans with practiced ease and picking up a ripe pomegranate from one of the stands; he pays and leaves a generous tip. Well, and he blesses the woman's sick daughter simply because he can.

By the time he has reached Azazel's spot, he has long seen him coming, wringing his hands and biting his lip bloody, which he silently takes in with a frown.

"Jophiel," he greets, his eyes wide and black as always, although at least his robe seems less tattered and more put-together than the last time they had seen each other.

"Azazel. Fruit?"

Freezing on the spot, his gaze rapidly switches between the stretched-out hand and Jophiel's face, who smiles with all the holy patience he can muster, the Metatron's words cutting thorns in the back of his throat.

"I- I've never actually..." Azazel gulps, nervous, yes, but there's an undercurrent of excitement to it, too.

Jophiel leans back against the wall, crossing his feet at the ankle and breaking the pomegranate open in an infinitesimal display of celestial power. Thin splashes of red juice wet his hands and run down his wrists, and he feels Azazel's attention heavy but not unwelcome on his skin when he lifts his arm to lick it off. A mild breeze ruffles their hair, red and white locks alike, and their fingers brush when Azazel reaches out to take his half.

"Thank you."

Pure gratitude laces his words, and they both know it is for more than the fruit. The Metatron, he decides as he watches Azazel carefully plug seed after seed out of its white shell, might be God's voice in heaven, but not here on earth. Otherwise, he would see his fragile smile and nervous ticks, hear the accidental admissions of faith and kindness, and know that there had been a mistake.

They eat in amicable silence, the noises of life and warmth flowing together into one, and while Azazel watches the crowds, Jophiel watches him.

I promise you I will fix this, he swears, and then, because the sparks of anger and dismay have yet to die and turn to ash, he speaks a prayer—a warning.

Azazel has more faith than your 'voice' does, God, and either you will take him back willingly or I will find a way to make you.

#alex writes good omens #good omens #oopsie!omens #ineffable husbands #crowley #aziraphale #good omens season 2 #go2 #aziracrow #crowley x aziraphale #i frankly have no idea how to tag this rip #going with my usual #and yes the nod to hades and persephone is intentional

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atinywriter · 5 months

Text

hidden treasure

[ kim hongjoong x reader ] [ pirate!au ] [ mermaid!reader ]

[ wordcount: 4.6k]

[ warnings: mild violence, suggestive tones, unedited for the most part ]

[ a/n: there were so many different ways i wanted to go with this but wanted to put out a semi finished form? i’m open to more fics in this universe for sure 👀 ]

The sharp glint of the silver bejeweled knife against the swell of a rotten man’s throat always made Hongjoong grin. The man in question was a lowly black market peddler, Willoughby, one that sold Hongjoong and his crew a lousy map that led them to a treasure that had already been taken.

“Given your history I really should have known better. Now here we are, my knife against your throat and your life in my hands. What are we going to do about that, hmm?” Hongjoong asks menacingly, pressing the silver blade closer to his artery. Willoughby swallows thickly, the sharp blade nicking his skin.

“How was I supposed to know the treasure was already taken? It’s not like I’m the one who took it. Look, I can give you another map, free of charge,” the cocky man barters, and a scoff sounds from behind Hongjoong.

“As if that could make up for the bullshit we went through, you rat. Just kill him, Hongjoong, he’s good for nothing anyways,” Seonghwa says moodily. He never liked this peddler and always felt like he was giving out poor information, it would be better to just not have to deal with him. The mission for the previously said treasure had gone wrong at every turn, ending up with their youngest crew member Jongho on light duty due to an injury he had gotten.

“Hmm, yes Seonghwa maybe you’re right. Why would I risk anything else when I could easily kill you and take all of your maps,” Hongjoong asks sarcastically, “Is there really nothing better you can offer me?” The heel of Hongjoong’s black boot crushes down onto the peddlers hand resting against the dirt, fingers crunching and a desperate howl leaves the peddlers mouth.

“Aish, okay I have something to offer you. My own secret cove that holds my personal treasures. I have a map in my right breast pocket. Take it and spare my life, I’m begging,” the peddler says, his eyes shedding a few tears. Hongjoong harshly pulls the map from his pocket, opening it up and looking at it. He didn’t see any locations marked, so he passes it off to Seonghwa to examine.

“You’re a lying rat now, huh? There’s not even any locations marked on this map,” Seonghwa snaps.

“I leave it unmarked in case it falls into the wrong hands, I’ll mark it for you, please just spare my life,” the man begs, voice breathy from the pain in his hand. Hongjoong giggles sadistically before pressing his heel further into the man’s hand, making sure to leave his mark before letting off of the pressure. Immediately after releasing his hand the peddler pulls it close to his chest, cradling it and crying silently. Hongjoong pulls a pen out of his jacket pocket, handing it to the man and holding the map against his own leg for the man to mark it. The man quickly draws an X in a little cove off the coast of a quiet, secluded tropical island. It was an area of the ocean known to be peaceful and quiet, not many ships sailing through. If this cove does turn out to be another lie, at the very least his crew will be able to relax on the island. Hongjoong kicks the peddler down onto his ass before getting into his face, a menacing smile taking over.

“If this is another scam, rat, we’ll be back for you, and you won’t live to tell the tale,” Hongjoong threatens and the man nods quickly, crawling back on his hands to create some space between them before darting up and running off into the towns busiest area.

“Finish up collecting your supplies in town, Seonghwa. We’ll be leaving before dawn,” Hongjoong says before turning and walking back down the dock towards the Illusion, the most mysterious ship on the seas. Hongjoong never allowed anyone who stepped on deck to live save for his crew, there were too many luxurious treasures hidden about the ship to risk someone catching sight of them.

The ship was quiet when he returned, most of the crew taking advantage of the docking to catch up on some well deserved rest. He can see Wooyoung scaling down the ropes from the lookout, landing beside Hongjoong with a quiet thump.

“Where’s Seonghwa,” Wooyoung questions.

“He’s just picking up the last of the supplies we need,” Hongjoong answers while pulling the map out of his inner chest pocket, “We’re heading for a little island off the coast of Fiji. Wake Yunho, Mingi, and Yeosang when you see Seonghwa return and we will depart for the open ocean.”

It’s not long before Seonghwa is quietly trekking down the boardwalk, arms chalked full of bags. He lets out a sharp whistle and patiently waits as Wooyoung scales from the heights of the crow’s nest to take half of the bags from him. The pair head into the galley, dropping off the bags to be unpacked by Seonghwa while Wooyoung wakes Yeosang, Mingi, and Yunho. Minutes later the sails were up and the ship was coasting on before the sun was glinting over the horizon.

A few days after some surprisingly smooth sailing, the crew were anchoring off the coast of the small island that had an untouched green jungle presented past the rich tan sands of the beach. A few of the members had pulled out some hammocks, excited to bask with the sun on their face and fresh fruit in their mouths. Yeosang and Jongho had been stuck with ship sitting duty, due to Jongho’s injury. Yeosang had been teaching the youngest member a game played with a deck of cards and had voluntarily stayed behind. The other members boarded their rowboat and quickly set off to shore.

Once tied off, the members split up into two groups - Mingi, San, and Wooyoung were setting up their hammocks and getting together some fruit and fresh water, ready for a relaxing beach day. Hongjoong couldn’t complain, he knew they had been in some exhausting conditions recently and he had no bad feelings about this island. In fact this was probably the most at peace he had felt on land in many years. The map had a cove marked not far off from the beach they had landed on, just a short trek through the jungle to their left. Hongjoong led the way with an impatient buzz, Seonghwa and Yunho following closely behind. Yunho whistled a tune as they walked, keeping the mood upbeat as the sunlight filtered through the dense green canopy.

As they neared the cove, they could tell that the rat of a smuggler had clearly left his mark in the forest, trash strewn about fire pits and random bits and bobs making a mess of a beautiful jungle.

“Looks like you should’ve killed him while you had him, captain. Nobody should be making such a mess of a pretty place like this,” Yunho says to Hongjoong as they’re locating the door to the hidden away cove.

The entrance was hidden by hanging ivy, the trio walking in together quietly. Hongjoong could feel his muscles tightening up slightly, a tell tale sign that there was some sort of magic in this cave, regardless of the stale wet smell blanketing everything. Looking over his shoulder, he connects eyes with the pair behind him and gestures for them to look around for anything of value. Neither of them had the connection with magic that Hongjoong did, albeit he only had a small connection it was more than anyone would consider normal. The pair seperated, looking at the homemade shelving systems and chests strewn about the cave.

“Well, would you look at that,” Seonghwa says with a mirthful tone, pointing out the treasure he had just uncovered from a dirty tarp. The same treasure that the lying smuggler had just sold them a map for, that they had gone through a tumultuous time getting to, that had gotten Jongho injured.

“The next moment we see him will be his last, I swear it,” Hongjoong says darkly. Yunho is gathering maps up from a table nearby, various areas with various X’s for treasure lining them. Hongjoong continues deeper into the cave while the other two take more looks around. He’s following the sizzle from the magic in his bones, the dim lighting going in and out and wet flooring squelching beneath his boots.

There’s a candle flickering on a small stand ahead, one that they didn’t light and could’ve been lit for who knows how long given the wax buildup along the stand. Hongjoong’s tense shoulders drop, maybe this was the magic he had been sensing all along - an always lit candle. He steps closer, his guard down for the time being.

As he’s nearing the light gives way to a large, sealed glass tank full of murky water. It’s about his height, the top and edges a rusted metal that had been poorly made. Clearly not something that was supposed to be here. Curiouser, Hongjoong squats near to the middle of the glass, eyes trying to get a look into the murky water. It almost looks like the water inside was slightly moving, tiny waves hitting the side of glass lightly. He swears he hears a splash as he’s squatting there, trying to get a look in and see whatever creature must be in there. Against his better judgement he leans in closer, lifting his hand up to lightly tap on the glass twice. The waves increase in intensity as he does so, and he thinks he sees shimmering white scales and a large fin swimming by swiftly. There’s footsteps behind him as Seonghwa and Yunho approach. They get in close and even go so far as to lean up against the lid, sending it barely sliding off the top letting a sliver of air and light into the tank.

Suddenly the creature in the tank zooms up to the sliver, and Hongjoong falls back onto his ass as he finally takes it in fully. It’s half woman half fish, an actual mermaid in the flesh. Hongjoong had been lucky enough in the past to catch glimpses of them, fins along the waves or eyes peeking over the calm water, but never to this extent. She was ethereal, he could feel himself being mesmerized by her at a glance. Her mouth was pressed against the open crack, gasping for air with her long dark hair streaming across her bare torso.

“Holy shit, captain. Is that a mermaid? An actual mermaid? God, she can’t even breath in that water,” Yunho is excited, pressing closer to get a better look. Hongjoong pushes himself up forcefully, anger seeping into him and his rage fueling the fire of hate he has for the lying scum who led them here.

“He’s got her trapped here, in a tiny fishbowl in the dark with no fresh air. I shouldn’t have let him go, he doesn’t deserve to breathe,” Hongjoong clenches his fist and squeezes his eyes shut, the regret taking over. He was here now, and he needed to do something to help her. He steps up to the tank, closer than Seonghwa and even Yunho. He goes to place his hands against the rusty metal lid of the ramshackle tank and as he moves so does she. Her eyes are wide, and she ducks down into the corner of the tank. She’s still in sight, watching them carefully to see what they’ll do. Hongjoong tries shifting the lid, but there’s something blocking the back corner making it too difficult to push farther than a foot. It was more space than she’d had before, but still not enough to be able to lift her out of the tank. He steps back a bit, keeping his eye on her as she swims up to the now larger gap. She lifts her head through, neck coming up but getting caught at her shoulders. She’s still scared, but her eyes give way to her curiosity.

“Hello there. My name is Hongjoong, and this is Seonghwa and Yunho,” he starts with pointing out his crew mates as an introduction, “We’re not here to hurt you, in fact I think we’ll be the ones to help you escape this nightmare. What’s your name?” The mermaid is silent for a few more moments, not wanting her naivety and blind trust to show too easily.

“My name is [Y/n],” she replies airily, “and just how exactly do you expect to get me out of here when you can’t even open the lid?” She taunts him lightly, wanting to test his patience and see the type of man he is. He does nothing but smile back to her, amusement at her immediate wit apparent. He calls over the other two and has them search for whatever they could use to pry it open far enough to get her out. They return with a long board and a crowbar along with an axe to hold it open once they pry the lid up.

“Alright, [Y/n], here’s the plan. These two are going to pry up the two sides enough to prop it open and slide you up and out, do you think that sounds alright?” Hongjoong knows when they lift the lid they must work fast, as the poor quality could cause for any sort of calamity. The mermaid nods and everyone gets to work. She swims up next to where they’re pulling up the edges, wanting this to be over fast. Hongjoong is there in front of her, their eyes meeting over the edge of the tank. He disappears for a moment to place a crate on the floor for him to stand on, giving him a better reach into the tank. He reappears in front of her, holding his hands out.

“They’re going to lift it up and then I’m going to help you out. Is it alright if I hold onto you while we get you out?” He asks, not wanting to overstep any boundaries.

“Yes that should be alright,” [Y/n] reaches out to him, her hand gripping onto his. His hands are warm to the touch, while hers are cold and starved for touch.

“Have you ever been out of water before? What happens when we take you out of here,” Hongjoong asks, mesmerized by her but worried for her safety.

“No, I’ve never been on land before, it’s quite exciting. I have no idea what will happen, let’s find out together,” [Y/n] says excitedly, gripping onto him tighter.

Hongjoong nods his head to Seonghwa and Yunho, indicating for them to lift. As the gap gets bigger he wraps his arms around where her torso and tail meet. He’s lifting her out when he loses his grip slightly, the crate underneath him cracking and sending his foot through. Hongjoong falls backwards, hands still wrapped around the mermaid, pulling her along with him. They land in a wet heap on the sharp rock floor, her landing on top of him soaking his shirt with her hair.

Yunho and Seonghwa release the lift on the lid as soon as they’re both out of the way, pushing it back into its original position to make it look as though no one had touched it. Their attention goes to the two in a pile on the floor, watching quietly as a slight shimmer runs over the mermaids tail, shimmering enough to blur it before lightening up to show a pair of legs instead of the scales and fin she was used to. Hongjoong removes his hands from her gently as she watches, she sits up and starts counting her toes and running her hands up her legs. Hongjoong is standing quickly, unbuttoning his damp shirt and taking it off before placing it around the now human looking woman’s shoulders. She looks up into his eyes with a deep smile on her face, her eyes full of excitement.

“Wow, I never thought I’d ever have legs like this. Please, can you help me stand up like the three of you,” [Y/n] asks, reaching her hands out to Hongjoong to lift her. He obliges, lifting her from her small waist to stand on her two feet like him. After a moment she looses her full strength and falls into him slightly, not used to the feeling.

“Careful, better to take it slow so you don’t fall down and hurt yourself,” Hongjoong says still gripping onto her waist, half her weight against him as they look into each others eyes. Yunho and Seonghwa exchange glances with eyebrows raised and smirks.

[Y/n] stands fully, stepping away from Hongjoong’s support. His hand seeks out hers at the loss of her waist, as she moves to take a few steps their fingers tips brush and they release each other, and a cold feeling sets into his hand at the loss of her touch. She finds her balance and is soon jumping and dancing in joy while the three men avoid gazing at her barely clothed body. Seonghwa pulls his bag off his back and retrieves a new shirt for the captain and a pair of trousers for the new human, which he also hands to Hongjoong to address.

“Is there anywhere you need to be? Anywhere we can take you,” Hongjoong asks while throwing the clean shirt on. [Y/n] stops prancing around the cave and comes to a stop in front of the tank, looking into it somberly.

“No, I don’t believe I’ve made any plans with anyone. I’ve got nothing going on. Oh, I suppose I told Josie the hammerhead I’d watch her new pup for her but that had to have a been a few months ago now…” she trails off quietly, thinking of the things she probably missed out on in her absence, “Looks like my schedule is all free for now, do you have any plans,” she turns around with a beaming smile on her face, pushing down the bad feelings. Hongjoong gestures for her to come closer, showing her the pants Seonghwa had pulled out for her to wear. If it were possible her smile got even brighter.

“I’ve always wanted my own pair of pantaloons! How exciting, it’s like i’m a real human now,” she chatters as Hongjoong helps her get into them, pulling them up her leg and buttoning them quickly before he let his thoughts wander too much. It was hard not to think of how soft her skin was, how it was smooth and unmarked to everyone’s touch, except for his now.

“Well, our only plan was finding all of the treasure that rotten Willoughby had stashed away here. Now that that’s all ours, we had planned to relax on the beach and eat good food and sing songs until we decide where to go. Would you like to join us and meet the rest of the crew?” Hongjoong asked her gently, not expecting her to want to come with them anywhere and instead want to go back to the open ocean, just like he’s always escaping to.

“There’s even more of you guys, oh wow I can’t wait to meet them. Please, take me with you,” [Y/n] grasps onto his hand, curiosity and happiness beaming off her in contagious waves. Hongjoong beams back at her, heating her up from head to toe. They turn towards Seonghwa and Yunho, who are getting the last few of the things they wanted this evening with them. They would bring a few more crew mates out here tomorrow morning to collect fully before thinking about departing from the island for their next adventure.

The walk back to the beach took longer than they’d expected due to the constant discovery [Y/n] was doing having never seen anything like the jungle before. She wanted to caress every leaf to see the texture and giggled exuberantly when a few butterflies were following her, landing on her arms and hand. Hers eyes were wide with childlike wonder, and Hongjoong almost felt jealous at her excitement to be on land. He had always had trouble with it, but he could understand considering this island felt more peaceful than any island he had been to before. The sounds of the forest were happy, and he could still hear the waves crashing against the beach a little bit away. He felt like it was easy to breathe here, and he wasn’t sure if that was from the jungle or the life that the mermaid had breathed into him. He watched her fondly as she experienced this new experience, while Seonghwa and Yunho trekked ahead to inform the others about the new guest.

It wasn’t long before [Y/n]’s curiosity changed from the environment to the possibility of new friends. She walked carefully along the path Hongjoong was making, stumbling slightly until he reached a hand out behind to grip onto hers to stabilize her. She continued holding his hand and walking closely as they neared the new people, feeling a bit shy. She could hear the chatter coming from the group, peeking over Hongjoong’s shoulder as they near. There were three new faces there, and the five of them had their eyes immediately on her as soon as they saw her look over his shoulder. Yunho and Seonghwa had encouraging smiles on their faces, while the other three portrayed disbelief and confusion. Hongjoong pulls her from behind him to stand at his side, hands still clasped but using his other hand to point out each of the new people.

“[Y/n], this are my friends and crew mates. The tall one next to Yunho is Mingi, the one between Mingi and Seonghwa is San, and the one on the end is Wooyoung. Everyone, this is [Y/n], and she’ll be joining us for the time being,” Hongjoong introduces everyone as they each wave at their names. [Y/n] tugs him excitedly along the beach to get near the new additions. They were all dressed so interestingly, all different styles and accessories. That was always one thing she’d heard gossip about from the members of her community, land people fashion. Accessories were easy enough to come across in the ocean, all sorts of rings and diamond earrings. But clothes were more difficult, they were either damaged from age or accident, and they never quite looked as good underwater as on land. She quickly pulls Mingi’s hands into hers and admires his rings.

“I love your rings Mingi, they look so cool. I had a ring that looked just like that one once,” she chatters happily as she pointed to a skull and crossbones ring on his middle finger. Before Mingi could even reply, she was darting off to stand in front of Wooyoung, getting in his space as she examined the earring he was wearing.

“Wooyoung, that earring is so cool, look I’m wearing one that could match it! I found it in a shipwreck a little while before that awful Willoughby snatched me up. Look,” she pulls her dark hair back over her shoulder as she lets him take a look at the identical earring in her right ear. Wooyoung’s hand goes up to his left ear, feeling the earring he hadn’t taken off in years.

“Funny story about this earring actually. I had a friend when I was younger who had a pair of earrings that he found in the sand while digging around- beautiful gold hoops with a pearl dangling down. He offered one to me and we each wore one to show our deep friendship for each other. My friend passed away a few years ago in a shipwreck, while he was wearing that earring. Maybe you found the one that was his,” Wooyoung explains, feeling somber at the memories. He hears sniffling and looks up from his thoughts to catch [Y/n]’s eye, full of tears and a sad look on your face.

“That might be the saddest story I’ve ever heard Wooyoung, but it must be fate that brought us together, I found it for you,” she says as she’s tugging it out of her ear and placing it in his hand, closing his fingers around it and placing her hand on top of his. She gives him a soft smile as a tear drops from his eye, before he pulls her in for a tight hug.

“It’s a surprise that Willoughby didn’t take it off of you when he snatched you up,” Hongjoong says, coming up next to them and placing his hand on her back lightly.

“Well, he tried once or twice. But my friend Josie, the hammerhead I told you about earlier, she taught me to bite anyone who got near my face if I didn't want them to be there,” [Y/n] explained cheerily.

“Some sound advice from Josie, I like her already,” Wooyoung says with humor.

“With introductions here over, how would you feel about coming onto the Illusion and meeting the last two before having a nice warm meal. Yeosang said he would be cooking a hearty stew this evening,” Hongjoong questions. [Y/n] feels as though this is the adventure she’s always been looking for, and is more than delighted to experience these new things with Hongjoong and his crew.

After that it was easy to bond with the crew, and even easier to bond with its captain due to the crew’s appreciation for her. She met Yeosang and Jongho respectively, who were nothing but welcoming. They traveled together for a while building friendships with each of them, before the captain formally invited her to become a crew member aboard the Illusion. Accepting immediately, she shared in many adventures with the crew, on land and sailing the seven seas.

The entire crew was astonished when one day she jumped into the water off of the crows nest, a daunting feat. The crew panicked momentarily as they hadn’t seen her resurface quickly, worrying for her life. As the entire crew was leaning over the railing, the captain getting ready to leap in after her, she suddenly resurfaced, leaping from the water with a shimmering pearl-like tail that took their breath away. The joy and happiness radiating from her clung to them like glue, leading them each to jump into the calm waters and play in the ocean for a while.

The sun was setting when the captain mustered up his courage to swim over to the mermaid. She was fiddling with seashells and seaweed in her hands, creating what looked to be a makeshift crown. As he approached, she turned to him with a smile and offered it out to him. He happily placed it upon his head, although crookedly. [Y/n] giggles as she swims right up to him, adjusting it on his head. Hongjoong’s hands grip her waist like the first time they had met, gently but pulling her towards him. He’s looking at her with red cheeks and parted lips, before leaning down and placing his lips on hers.

“I’m really happy you didn’t bite me,” Hongjoong jests.

“Why would I bite the person I’ve wanted in my face since I was rescued by them,” [Y/n] jokes back before connecting their lips together again.

They shared their first kiss under the pink and orange sunset and in the calm cool waves that they both loved, but many more followed in all sorts of interesting scenarios.

#ateez #atz #ateez fanfic #ateez au #ateez au fic #hongjoong #kim hongjoong #ateez x reader #kim hongjoong x reader #hongjoong x reader #pirate!au #/mine #ateez imagine #atz imagine #atz au

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accio-victuuri · 2 months

Text

April CPNs round-up! ❤️💛💚

• BJYX shows up in station sisters team building photos/videos. proving that the pairing is still very much relevant and loved 🫶🏼

• allegedly spending some time together 4/2 and 4/3 when yibo went to shanghai

• cql and xz gets mentioned in a livestream for WoF

• wyb with a beaded bracelet that seems to be a clue that he spent time with GG ; more on the initial thoughts about the bracelet and why give an obsidian one

•zsww fake rumor of their meet up

•their love for watching old cctv spring festival gala sketches

• 4/8, in the FPU douyin update, he continues on with the dog theme ☺️ he really is a puppy! gouzaizai!

• not really a cpn/candy but their name side by side for the alleged registration list for Magnolia Award. i’m just so proud and as a cpf, it feels good seeing them succeed. 👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼

• 4/8 cpns : fan used for camping that xz uses, the number 38 and us clowning about concerts

• some are comparing this interaction between wyb and hjy in FPU bts with how he is with GG. saying when he is hurt, he goes all out and shows it to GG but with others he won’t say anything. i agree that this thing is true both for GG/WYB, meaning they only show “weakness” to each other 🥺🥺🥺

* throwback post : fake rumor story during cql shoot of someone that works closely with yibo

• this side by side photo, they look alike in this profile!

• 4/16/24 zsww rumor

• the rumor that wyb visited LOZ shoot and my thoughts on it ; i know i cannot stop people from “enjoying” this material and what it potentially implies but i personally cannot condone the type of behavior that disrespects them. especially xz who has been v frustrated with the leaks happening in his project. and just to dispel the rumors, this is who people are saying is supposedly yibo ⬇️⬇️⬇️

��‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️

no shade to this guy. he was just a victim of people’s overzealous tendencies. this is not the first time cpfs have done this, in OOL and OnO we’ve had questionable video evidences too which is most likely not who we think it is. please stop. it’s not just the leaks. we have to protect them. we know they visit each other, let’s just bridge the clues with what they give us. we cpn that they visit the ST or probably even follow certain cpf accounts, there is just no universe that they will see this kind of conversations related to leaked photos and videos and be happy about it.

• DESCENDANTS OF THE SUN AU 😭😭😭😭 idk man. military/police wyb and doctor xz pairing is really top notch!

• 4/19 xiao zhan weibo post for the 6th solar term - Guyu ( Grain Rain ) and all the clowning: one / two

• 4/20 zsww rumor ; hinting at them working on a project where one will direct and the other will act

• WYB’s GQ hat could be a custom made one from Tod’s????

• A new explanation about the mystery driver and comparing it to the mask WYB uses

• There has been some conversation because of WYB’s bazaar shoot with his FPU co star/team and that it’s no longer just XZ that he has done that with. Well i have to say that no matter what people say, the bazaar one with XZ is different. just the production value and theme of it — was more romantic and WYB was totally expressive. plus don’t forget that the shoot for that was where xz called him Venus. it will always be special, cause it’s just the 2 of them. there is no use comparing, i bet you, xz will have a joint cover or spread for LOCH with the female lead. it is part of marketing.

• yibo and his rainbow necklace 🌈

• I will add this here cause i don’t think it needs a separate post with how galaxy brain it is. it’s about certain photos uploaded by YBO being 2.3 MB in size. 23 love zhan. whether this is intentional or something special. who knows. it just came up again this month because the bear photo is with the same file size. 🤷🏻‍♀️

other instances are outlined by this account on weibo :

February 3, 2:30 pm (Picture 1) // May 11 (Picture 3) // June 1st, Children’s Day, “Children are in love” (Picture 5) // August 5th, birthday composition (Picture 7)// November 22 (Picture 9)

• 4/29 zsww fake rumor

• GUCCI wall 2.0 is close to Lacoste big screen ad! oh the possibilities!

• 4/29 candies to enjoy ( includes: their promos not overlapping, jiayou parallel, double standards and the bead bracelet discussion again )

See you all next month! ✌🏼💛

<<< previous month

#yizhan #bjyx #there is no science here i’m just clowning like i always do

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melancholy-of-nadia · 3 months

Text

love u lately (m) #8 | myg/knj/pjm

title: love u lately chapter title: #8 - split pairing: yoongi x f. reader, namjoon x f. reader, jimin x f. reader (yoonminjoon x f. reader) rating/genre: m (18+) ; smut ; college/university au , pseudo frat! bts; best friends! yoonminjoon friends to lovers; summary: Your dilemma of trying to decide between Yoongi and Jimin was already stressful enough, but to add Namjoon to the mix, has you slowly falling apart emotionally, mentally and academically. When your university's Annual Valentine's Day Night Market event opens up the opportunity to spend time out with Yoongi and Jimin, will you finally be able to tell them how you feel? Or will your own indecisiveness lead you all to a falling out? warnings: LONGEST CHAPTER SO FAR, reader is anxious and stressed throughout this whole chapter, breakdown from stress, fluffy lowkey date stuff, MORE CONFESSIONS, kissing, THE LONG AWAITED THREESOME, MLM kiss, bro helps put on lube on other bro, vaginal fingering, breastplay, ball fondling, eating out, blow job, dick slapping, possessiveness, double vaginal penetration, reader on BC, Yoongi and Jimin reassurance through it, pet names, clit stimulation, double creampie, uh i think that's it a lot happens, oh yeah...eventual angst, alcohol consumption, arguing, pettiness, secrets revealed, namjoon? note: everyone, please say thank you to @daegudrama for editing this chapter and fixing the smut because i can barely write smut! total word count: 14.8k drop date: March 2nd, 2024, 1:30PM PST cross posted on AO3 here ← #7 | Series Masterlist | #9

February 12 [Tuesday]

The atmosphere in your business communications class is tense, and you can feel the pressure of your stressed thoughts hanging over you. You’re supposed to be presenting a case study on a local cafe from your hometown where you used to work at in high school. The topic revolves around marketing and finance initiatives to enhance the cafe's traffic and sales. This includes a presentation and paper deliverable.

You stand at the front of the room, a faint sheen of nervousness glistening on your forehead. The slides projected on the screen behind you outline various strategies to revamp the cafe's image and attract more customers. Yet, your words stumble, and your sentences lack the usual confidence you had the semester prior. Professor Michaelson, a stern figure in the business world who now teaches as a side hobby, observes with a critical eye.

As you fumble through the presentation, you catch the gaze of JB watching you with an expressionless demeanor. Great. Nice to see your ex-crush is silently judging you. He adds to the pressure, making you acutely aware of the less-than-impressive performance you’re delivering. The weight of recent decisions, or lack thereof, regarding Yoongi and Jimin looms over you, clouding your ability to focus on any of your school work these days.

Professor Michaelson raises an eyebrow, signaling his dissatisfaction with your lackluster presentation. "Is there a reason you're not fully engaged today, Y/N?" he questions, a hint of disappointment in his voice.

"I, uh, apologize, Professor," You stammer, attempting to regain composure. "It's just been a bit hectic lately."

"Life happens, but it's crucial to maintain professionalism, especially in a business setting." he admonishes. "Proceed with your presentation. We'll discuss your performance afterwards."

The classroom clock ticks away, each second stretching into an eternity. As you continue stumbling through the slides, your mind involuntarily keeps drifting. Fuck, why is it so hard to come up with the right words to say? At some point, you feel like you’re rushing to reach the end without even trying.

“Thank you Y/N, that was enough. Good work.” Prof. Michaelson interrupts right as you’re on your final slide.

Oh no, it was bad bad.

The ordeal finally comes to an end, and you step back to your seat. You always told yourself you wouldn’t let your relationships get in the way of your academics, but now, it finally has. And you are so fucked.

As the class progresses, you try to shake off the lingering embarrassment. Each step feels heavier as you leave the classroom, disappointment with yourself settling like a stone in your chest. Once the class ends, Prof. Michaelson hands you a graded rubric with additional comments. You don’t bother reading them and just rush out of the classroom, feeling tear threatening to roll down your cheeks.

And once you’re out of the building, they do.

Your own letdown sits heavily on your shoulders. In that moment, you wish you could rewind time, erase the awkwardness, and salvage whatever dignity remains. But could you have done any better? As you wipe away a frustrated tear, you can't help but wonder how you let things spiral out of control.

++++++

“Maria! I don’t know what to do!” you exclaim, your voice laced with exaggeration. Amidst the bustling environment of the dining commons, you feel anxious, playfully pushing Hwasa back and forth as the two of you navigate the lunch line. It’s usually not that busy on Tuesdays, but today it is.

Hwasa, undeterred by the apparent crisis, responds with humor, “Switching to my Catholic name?! Oh, girl, you really do need some salvation.” She laughs, effortlessly maneuvering through the crowded space as she fills her tray with an array of buffet options.

“I’m being serious here! I honestly can’t pick either of them and I also can’t give Namjoon an answer. And this whole thing has been bothering me to the point I just failed one of my big projects for business comm!” Frustration bubbles in your tone as you slam your tray down, earning curious glances from other students in line.

“Oh God, okay.” You two walk over to an open table and sit down on opposite sides of each other. “Maybe reject them all? That’s the safer option right? No one will be truly hurt especially because you’re emphasizing not ruining your friendship. And you all move on, date other people and still maintain that friendship! The end.”

“Yeah…” You pick at your food with your fork aimlessly, not making any effort to eat it. “I don’t even know if we could ever be the same as we were before this…deal.” “But were things even the same before you decided to fuck Yoongi?” Your eyes widen, darting around to ensure no familiar faces are within earshot. “Hey, hey we’re in public! Someone we know could hear us.”

Hwasa sighs, lowering her voice. “You were already uncomfortable when Namjoon and Jimin were seeing people and wanted to get more serious with those girls. Yoongi clearly liked you before that party too. I wouldn’t doubt the other two also had those feelings before that, but were just better at hiding it. I don’t think there’s any ‘normal life’ to return to before you all started to address the elephant in the room.”

She’s right.

There was already something there whether you noticed it or not. At some point in time, the idea of liking you was planted in their heads, and eventually growing into love. You just don’t know when and while you hold a lot of love for them, you’ve always pushed the idea of romantic love for them aside as it didn’t seem realistic, or even good to think about. Keeping it platonic was easier anyways.

Up until recently, though, when whatever pent up sexual frustration and desires took charge on your relationships with two of your best friends.

“You’re right. I’m just going to have to acknowledge the risks and deal with the consequences of my horniess and feelings.”

Hwasa chews her food before responding matter-of-factly, “And whatever happens, I will be there to comfort you! You can use my boobs as a pillow and spill your tears onto me.”

You laugh loudly. “Always appreciate knowing you will be there during my lowest lows with your chest as comfort.”

You both finish lunch and head over to her dorm to rest before your next class in an hour.

“So…is your decision coming before or after the Valentine’s Night Market?”

The Valentine’s Night Market. You had totally forgotten that Hwasa invited you and the boys to come by for one of ASU’s – the student org she’s in – annual night market event. It was mixed celebration for Lunar New Years and Valentine’s Day here.

"Oh, Valentine’s Night Market. Totally slipped my mind," you admit, realizing the distraction of your personal matters overshadowed the upcoming event.

Hwasa grins, "Well, I’m tabling and selling kimchi fried rice and hotteok. Do you still have some time to help out a little? Just for the first hour! Jieun will take over after!"

You don’t have any set plans to hang out with Yoongi and Jimin besides saying that Valentine’s Day is the day, so you might as well tell them to come to the event and hang out with you there. It could make things less suspicious to others. You also wonder what Namjoon’s plans are so you can avoid any distractions that day too.

"Yeah, sure, I can help out for a bit. But, let me check with the guys about it." you say, pulling out your phone to send a quick message in the Sanctuary group chat.

You [1:15 PM]: Hey, what plans did you guys have in mind for Valentine’s Day evening? There’s the night market event on campus, and I’m helping Hwasa table for the first hour. You guys should come and we can hang after?

While waiting for their responses, Hwasa continues, "Please! I hope they say yes. Plus, it'll give you time to think about your decision more. Trust me; selling hotteok is like therapy." Your laughter punctuates her words, easing the tension.

Not long after, your two best friends respond back.

Yoongi [1:21 PM]: We wanted to wait to hear what you had in mind and do that, but this sounds good. We’ll be there.

Jimin [1:22 PM]: Yeah, let’s do that. Beats sitting around and overthinking.

With your plans in place, you turn back to Hwasa.

"Looks like I can work the shift!"

“Fuck yeah! I appreciate you helping out, let’s try to get everything sold.”

The anticipation for the event in two days starts building, and you both dive into more detailed planning and strategizing. Hwasa's vibrant personality coupled with her contagious excitement feels motivating, and you find yourself getting into the spirit and readiness to confront your feelings.

++++++++++++

February 14 [Thursday]

If only your anxiety would be weaker than your drive for motivation.

The soft rays of the setting sun filter through your bedroom window, casting a warm glow on the floral print ruched spring short dress you twirl in front of the mirror. It was a gift from Yoongi for Christmas, paired with the long star earrings Jimin gifted you. The whole ensemble makes you feel delicate and coquette. You feel a little embarrassed to find yourself dressing up for this, but you figured if you might as well go all out for what could be the last day you do something like this.

You’re on a mission tonight.

After doing a soft makeup look, you grab your small black flap bag walking downstairs.

You texted the house gc earlier letting them know you'd be out helping at the night market. Hoseok responded saying he'd be there too because his dance club group was doing a cover performance. Seokjin mentioned he’s also going to be there tabling for Kappa Psi Pi. Jungkook and Taehyung were going out bar hopping with a few other guys hoping to get lucky for the night. Jimin and Yoongi said they would be in the library studying for a midterm, which didn’t raise any suspicions, surprisingly.

As for Namjoon…

“Tiny, where are you going all dolled up?”

You are caught off guard by Namjoon's call from the kitchen where he is eating a bowl of cut fruit. He stands leaning against the doorway, looking at you from head to toe, licking his lips after each juicy bite of fruit. Is that melon? When your eyes leave his lips to look into his gaze, you become frozen. Huh? This never happened to you before. What an interesting thing to see how his actions leave you feeling a little nervous now, especially after what he confessed to you not that long ago.

“I’m helping table for V-day night market with Hwasa at 7:00, then I’m going to enjoy the event after my shift.”

Namjoon nods, his gaze holding a mix of understanding and something else. “That…sounds pretty fun.”

“What about you?” Namjoon forgot to respond to the group chat, so you’re curious to hear of his Valentine’s Day plans. You don’t think it will involve him on a date after his confession, so you wonder what else he has in store.

He sets his bowl down and steps closer, whispering near your ear and causing a shiver down your spine. You’re suddenly more alert than you were previously.

“I wanted to spend time with my Honey, but that will have to wait.”

You’ve heard his low raspy voice many times before, but for some reason, it feels very erotic in this moment. If he commanded you with this voice all the time, you would do whatever he pleases. Your breath catches, and questions swirl in your mind. Hold on, what does he mean that will have to wait? For what?

Before you can seek clarification, he adds, “I’m going with Soyoon, John and San to a live art gallery event up in the big city. John’s band friends are going to play.”

“A-Ah, I see.”

He gets up from his leaned position and looks at you softly. Has it been a long time since Namjoon looked at you with that much love and care in his eyes? You feel like he’s become much more serious with you since you started college. This act feels nostalgic.

He pushes a few loose strands behind your ear, “Don’t get jealous okay?” He chuckles, his signature dimples coming into sight.

“Huh?! I wasn’t even thinking that!” you stammer, attempting to brush off the implication despite failing as your face blushes.

In this moment, he pulls you into a tight hug. Your cheek presses against the fabric of his gray shirt, and you soak in the comfort he provides. It feels so nice. So safe. After a long time, in his arms, you feel at home.

“Well whenever you’re ready, I’ll be there no matter what.”

You assume he’s talking about you answering his confession from the trip.

Whenever you’re ready, he says.

“Thank you Joonie.” You sigh deeply into his chest, words sounding a little muffled.

Could it be that Namjoon’s the true answer to all your problems, not Yoongi or Jimin? But it still doesn’t feel right. No matter who you end up ultimately picking, you still feel like you won’t be happy. Even if the other two guys say they will be happy, will they actually be okay with seeing their two best friends happily in love?

And if you end up with one of them, what’s to say the relationship will last? What if you two fall out of love for each other and ultimately break up? Will you be all alone at the end this time, no best friends to lean back on to help you rise up once again? You hate to admit how much Yeonjun’s after image lingers in your mind whenever you think about the future of a relationship. Despite how he was just a brief happening in the summer breeze, the lasting impact of his final words remain.

You bid goodbye to Namjoon, who leaves first as John’s ‘96 Toyota Corolla stops in front of the house to pick him up. Soyoon waves to you excitedly from the back seat as she sits next to San.

As the car fades in the distance, you walk in the opposite direction to campus.

After walking for about 8 minutes, the quad comes alive as you step onto its paved pathways, filled with the vibrant tapestry of the Valentine's Night Market. Strings of twinkling lights drape across the trees, casting a warm glow. Stalls adorned with heart-shaped decorations and bursts of red and pink hues line the paths, creating a whimsical atmosphere.

As you immerse yourself in this enchanting setting, a mixture of emotions washes over you. The sweet aroma of various treats wafts through the air, enticing passersby. Stalls offer an array of delectable delights, from cotton candy in shades of pastel to heart-shaped cookies intricately decorated with icing. The scent of hotteok wafts from Hwasa and Jieun's stall, where they expertly flip the sweet korean treat on a sizzling griddle.

“Oh! Honey! You’re here–” Hwasa pauses, checking you out from head to toe. “Looking cute as fuck, bestie!”

“Thank you.” You reply sheepishly, using your arms to flatten your dress from any wrinkles. “The whole setup for the night market looks so cool this year!”

You look up and all around, colorful lanterns sway gently overhead with wishes and messages from students written on small notes. The gentle breeze causes them to dance in the night, adding to the ambience of the market. The gentle hum of laughter and conversation blends with the cheerful melodies of the band playing at the very center of the quad.

A few Carnival rides spin and twirl at the far end of the quad, their lights tracing intricate patterns against the night sky. The Ferris wheel, glimmering in pink and red, stands tall, offering couples a romantic view of the campus from above. Nearby, a carousel with whimsical creatures invites laughter from those enjoying a nostalgic ride.

Various booths offer interactive experiences, adding an extra layer of fun to the festivities. A photobooth machine captures candid moments against a backdrop of sparkling hearts, while a fortune-teller booth held by the Harry Potter club promises glimpses into the future. Students crowd around games of skill and chance, trying their hand at winning prizes that range from plush toys to heart-shaped trinkets.

“There’s carnival rides too?” You gasp seeing them in a section beside the built stage at the center of the quad.

“Yeah, we got a few international students who joined this year willing to fund for better stuff.” She leans in close to your ear and points carefully at two people named Giselle and Ten standing around another booth. “So you better go enjoy it after! We also have a few bands playing, so even more reason to stick around.”

“That’s so cool! I’ll keep that in mind!”

Hwasa hands you a cute apron with hearts and stars from a box below the table. "Okay. Time to make those hotteoks, bestie! I have Peniel and Junny handling the kimchi fried rice, so don’t worry about that."

You walk around to enter the tent then tie the apron around your waist. You stand next to the griddle gradually heating up. Hwasa takes charge of coordinating orders and managing the flow of customers. The scent of sizzling batter and sweet fillings fills the air as you expertly flip the hotteoks, ensuring they are cooking to perfection.

Peniel stands in the next table over, clad in a stylish apron with the words "Best Chef in the World" emblazoned on it, working diligently at the adjacent stall, skillfully frying up batches of savory kimchi fried rice. Junny sits while on his phone as he waits for people to come by and order. The enticing aroma of Korean spices wafts through the air, drawing in hungry students with each tantalizing whiff.

After a while of a couple of orders coming in, Hwasa glances at her watch and nudges you. "I need to run to another booth to get more change. Can you handle this for a bit?"

"Uh, sure!" you respond, taking the cash box and flashing a reassuring smile. As Hwasa disappears into the bustling crowd, you focus on the task at hand, jotting down the few orders you get and going back to the grill. Dammit, why did she have to leave you like this until God knows when?

Suddenly, two familiar figures approach the stall, dressed in outfits that catch your eye.

"Angel isn’t getting any orders." Yoongi speaks first with a grin, his eyes lighting up with surprise and amusement.

Jimin chuckles, “I guess it’s a slow night for our darling."

“H-Hey–” You pause as you check them out.

Yoongi sports a black bomber jacket that complements his laid-back aura. Underneath, he wears a simple white tee, creating a clean and modern look. Paired with dark jeans and sleek Airforces, his overall ensemble has your eyes glued to him. His hair is also in a bun, which you hadn’t seen him do before. Has his hair grown that much?

When you turn to glance at Jimin you see he’s opted for a varsity jacket that injects a dose of sporty charm into his outfit. Jimin’s black hair is slowly catching up to the same length as Yoongi’s. The jacket, with embroidered details and a slightly worn appearance adds character to his look. Beneath the jacket, Jimin wears a snug-fitting black shirt, with distressed jeans and comfortable converse sneakers to complete the look.

They look so fucking good. The urge to pounce on them is high, and you wonder if it’s your hormones talking. They’ve been yapping all day keeping you at your wits ends. You wish you were done with your shift so you can go run off with them, but you still have another 25 minutes to go. Lost in thought, you don’t realize that your gaze lingers on them for more than a mere moment. It isn’t until Yoongi notices and chuckles. Shit, they’re going to tease

"Cat got your tongue?" he teases, a smirk playing on his lips.

You roll your eyes, trying to mask the blush creeping up on your cheeks. "Uh, I'm just appreciating the fashion show you two decided to put on tonight."

Jimin grins, nudging Yoongi. "Well, you know we always dress to impress.” Jimin jolts slightly as he remembers something “Oh right! Here, we got you something.”

Jimin holds out a small bouquet of pink roses, their sweet fragrance wafting through the air. "These are for you,"

Yoongi follows suit, "And these are from me. We thought they might brighten up your evening."

The corners of Yoongi's lips lift into a warm smile as he reaches behind him, handing you a small vibrant bouquet of sunflowers – a burst of yellow that seems to carry the sunshine itself.

Your heart swells with gratitude as you accept the flowers. "Thank you both," you express genuinely, fingers gently tracing the petals of the sunflowers. "They're beautiful, just like the two of you."

Jimin’s cheeks tint with a subtle blush, and Jimin chuckles, playfully nudging him. "Looks like our darling is smooth with words too. Must be how you’re getting customers tonight"

As you place the bouquets in the back table, you're drawn back to the present, realizing you're still on your shift. "Oh! No, actually, tabling has been pretty slow overall!" you exclaim, eager to change the subject to calm your heart down. "Hwasa's off getting change. But is there anything I can get you guys while you're here?"

"Can we get you now?" Yoongi bluntly asks.

Yet again, you find yourself caught off guard by his boldness. He never used to be like this, but ever since you two started this deal, you feel like you awakened another side of him.

“Sorry boys,” You shut down the flirting efforts, instead playing hard to get. “Unless you wanna help me sell these hot…buns? Then maybe I could finish faster and go?”

"You know what, Honey? We'll help you out," Yoongi declares, rolling up his sleeves with a mischievous grin.

Jimin joins in, "Yeah, we can't let you work too hard on Valentine's Day."

You chuckle, appreciating their willingness to lend a hand. “Come around back and get to work then!”

This actually proves to be a good idea for you. Once they start working, they start to bring in a crowd of people. The two men take turns flipping hotteoks, playfully teasing each other and engaging customers with their charisma. Jimin, with his infectious smile, handles customers with so much ease, while Yoongi adopts an exaggerated seriousness as he grills, drawing amused glances from onlookers. You’re left in awe at the efforts of your best friends and how reliable they are.

When Hwasa comes back, she’s amused at the sight bringing in so much traction.

As you all finish with a good chunk of the orders, she finally steps inside the tent and you hand her the stack of orders you all took. “Thanks to these two, we've made an impressive number of sales. I think this is my cue to go?” You look at her with stars in your eyes, hoping that this will be enough t satisfy the greedy tiger that is the treasurer of ASU, Ahn Hyejin

“I guess you have done your part, Y/N.” She turns to face Yoongi and Jimin. “Now, go enjoy the night with her! I have some people coming in at 8 to handle things from here."

You and your three best friends nod at each other and leave the stall to go explore the rest of the night market, which is now filled with more people. Couples stroll hand in hand, sharing stolen glances beneath the glow of the market lights. You wonder if you’ll ever get to experience something like that. Laughter erupts from other corners filled with various groups of friends exploring diverse offerings. Everyone’s creating memories that will linger long after the night has passed. Will this night be a good memory for you three as well?

In that moment of many thoughts, you feel Yoongi and Jimin’s fingers gently interlace with yours. Oh? Not “Oh” in a confused way, but “Oh” as a casual remark of an action that’s filled with normalcy. It’s something that feels just so natural for you three for as long as you’ve known each other. Your hands in theirs as you weave through the lively crowd of the night market embraced with its infectious energy leaves you feeling at ease.

"You look adorable in that dress, Y/N. We didn't even notice what you were wearing under the apron earlier," Jimin remarks, flashing his signature eye smile as he stops walking. Yoongi chimes in, "Yeah, the gifts we got you suit you well."

Blushing at their compliments, you glance down at your outfit, feeling grateful for their attention to detail. “O-Oh, thank you. I just felt like it was the right day to wear it.”

See? There’s times where comments, no matter how normal they may seem for long time friends, will actually get you flustered. Damn their words of affirmation hitting you right where you feel it.

As you wander through the stalls, Jimin spots a photobooth and suggests capturing a few memories together. His eyes gleam mischievously as he proposes, "Hey, why don't we take some photos? You know, like old times."

“Like the times we would take photos in the photobooth after we saw a movie at that run down theater in middle school?” You giggle.

“Exactly like that. You would always make us take those!” Yoongi reminisces.

In the spirit of spontaneity and nostalgia, you agree, and soon, you three find the empty photobooth with a charming backdrop, pay the small fee and enter it.

The first photo captures all three of you in silly poses. Yoongi throws a peace sign, Jimin puckers his lips in an exaggerated kissy face, and you make bunny ears behind Yoongi's head. Laughter erupts as Jimin clicks the photo, freezing that moment of carefree camaraderie.

For the second shot, you find yourself sandwiched between Jimin and Yoongi, each of them throwing a peace sign while you sport an exaggerated surprised expression.

For the final shot, Jimin eyes Yoongi, seemingly having a pose idea that you’re unsure of. Yoongi nods curiously. Jimin positions himself on one side of you, and Yoongi on the other. Milliseconds before the camera clicks, Jimin and Yoongi simultaneously plant soft kisses on your cheeks. After the shutter goes off, the moment is frozen in time on the strip as it comes out of the photo booth machine. For a split second, you're caught off guard, the warmth of their lips leaving a lingering sensation on your skin. The shock registers on your face, captured perfectly in the photograph.

"Wait, what!" you exclaim, your eyes widening in shock.

"Surprise!" Jimin grins, stepping out to grab the photo.

"Yeah, gotcha." Yoongi adds, a playful glint in his eyes.

Your initial shock turns into shy laughter as you realize the mischief they've just orchestrated. "Hey! That was so uncalled for…"

Jimin chuckles, "Gotta keep things interesting, right?"

Yoongi smirks, "Consider it payback for all those times you surprised us being a minx."

You burst out laughing, which leads to them into a laughing fit seeing you feeling happy. Agh, they always gotta tease and expose you like this! You playfully swat at them, still processing their unexpected actions.

After leaving the photo booth, the tantalizing aroma of freshly baked bungeo ppang fish bread catches your attention. The scent triggers a childhood memory, and you excitedly share, "Hey, let's stop by this stall! I haven’t had a bungeo ppang since I was in elementary school."

Yoongi and Jimin exchange amused glances, remembering your tales of childhood cravings. You ate so many when you would go over to Yoongi’s house because his mom would make dozens of them for their church fundraisers. You even got the nickname “little bungeoppang” from Yoongi’s mom because of this.

The club's fish bread stall boasts an array of flavors, from traditional red bean to modern twists like chocolate and custard. They order a variety, hoping to recreate a bit of nostalgia for you.

While enjoying the warm, sweet taiyaki, you notice a towering structure at the far end of the quad—the Ferris wheel. Your eyes light up with curiosity, and you turn to Yoongi and Jimin, "What do you guys think about riding the Ferris wheel? I've always been a bit nervous about heights, but with you two, it might be fun."

Jimin grins, "That sounds like a great idea! We can keep you company and make sure you feel comfortable."

Yoongi adds, "Don't worry, we'll be right there with you. It'll be a fun experience."

Encouraged by their reassurance, you join the line for the Ferris wheel. It’s not a gigantic ferris wheel that you’ve seen at amusement parks, but it’s fairly midsize that would let you see a large portion of campus up at the highest point. The anticipation builds as the line inches forward, and soon, it's your turn to board one of the colorful gondolas. The Ferris wheel slowly ascends, offering breathtaking views of the night market below.

Is it the worst moment to admit that you’re a little scared of heights? Probably. You know you wanted to ride this, but now that you’re on it. You’re a little anxious. It’s not even that high! Get it together, Y/N.

Your fear must be easily sensed, because Jimin decides to wrap an arm around you, offering support, while Yoongi holds your hand on the other side. You wait for them to make fun of you for wanting to ride the ferris wheel despite being scared of heights, but those words don’t come.

As the gondola reaches its peak, you glance at your university campus and down at the bustling market, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. Yoongi whispers, "Look at that view, Angel. It's beautiful, isn't it?"

With their comforting presence, the nervousness begins to fade, replaced by a sense of joy and exhilaration. You’re okay. You’re safe with them. The Ferris wheel ride becomes a shared adventure, a moment suspended in time between the colorful lights and the starry sky.

As the Ferris wheel descends, you all step off and exit the area. It’s a relief to be touching the ground once again. You tag along behind Yoongi and Jimin and become the person to recommence the hand holding once again.

In the distance, the rhythmic beat of a live band permeates the air. The music carries a unique blend of energy and emotion, drawing you all toward the center of the quad where the performance unfolds.

Yoongi tilts his head, recognizing the sound. "That sounds like Sammy's band," he remarks, his ears attuned to the familiar tunes. With curiosity guiding your steps, the three of you make your way to the source of the music.

As you three approach the middle of the crowd watching the performance, the silhouette of the keyboardist catches your eye, and you're taken aback. It's Yijeong, playing alongside Sammy's band. You shoot a puzzled look at Yoongi, who smirks, "Sammy asked for Yijeong's number this morning. Dojoon got food poisoning, and they needed someone to cover for him."

The stage is bathed in a warm, golden glow, and the crowd buzzes with anticipation as the band gets ready for their next song.

“We are ‘The Rose’! Or ‘Windfall’...we haven’t decided on our official name yet. My keys guy got food poisoning so a good friend came to cover. We have two songs coming up next. One is a cover of one of my favorite songs and the other is an original song written by us, so enjoy!”

The first chords of the cover song, "Pristine" by Snail Mail, resonate through the speakers. Sammy’s, the lead guitarist, fingers dance effortlessly across the strings, conjuring a haunting melody that seems to linger in the night air. The drummer – which Yoongi comments is Hajoon – sets a steady beat, creating a rhythmic foundation that anchors the ethereal atmosphere.

As Sammy begins singing, his voice filled with both vulnerability and strength wraps around the lyrics. Each word is like a brushstroke on a canvas, painting a picture of longing and introspection. The crowd, drawn into the magnetic pull of the music, sways in unison, a collective dance to the emotional cadence.

Internally, you're caught in the vortex of emotions. The lyrics of the song, like a mirror reflecting your own inner turmoil, resonate with the complexities of your relationships. The notion of wanting to be one with someone echoes the silent desires you've been grappling with, a yearning for unity in the midst of uncertainty. You can’t be with just someone. You realize you have to be with them. But why is the answer so obvious, yet feels impossible?

When the song finishes, The Rose transitions seamlessly to their original song, "I Don't Know You.” Sammy’s voice takes center stage, followed by bassist Jaehyeong pouring raw emotion into every note. The melody weaves through the air, intertwining with the radiance of the lights above. The keyboardist, Yijeong, adds a layer of depth, his fingers dancing across the keys like a silent storyteller.

With each lyric, you find yourself pulled deeper into a contemplative state. The longing expressed in the music mirrors your own inner conflicts. I want to know you. It's a phrase that reverberates within you, a sentiment that resonates with the intricate dance between friendship and something more.

In the midst of the performance, you glance at Yoongi and Jimin, their eyes reflecting a shared understanding. You wonder if the song is hitting them as much as it’s hitting you right now. The energy from the stage lets your surroundings become a realm where emotions are laid bare. Yoongi and Jimin both hold internal diaries with thousands of words that have not been said aloud.

The chorus swells, and you're compelled to reach out, gently tugging at their arms. The gesture, a silent acknowledgment, weaves seamlessly into the fabric of the music. The lyrics, "Do you want me? Your lover who will never change. Even your bitterness, makes me obsessed," echo in your mind, prompting introspection and a deepening realization.

Suddenly, against the backdrop of the music, Yoongi and Jimin exchange glances, and a shared realization flickers in their eyes. The intensity of the performance and the emotions it evokes push them to reveal what's been lingering in the air.

“Y/N, I’m in love with you.”

“I’ve loved you for a long time, Y/N.”

Jimin and Yoongi speak simultaneously, though Yoongi says a slightly different declaration. You’re speechless. You had anticipated hearing these words after being able to connect the dots, but to actually hear them. At this moment, it’s surreal. This feels like a dream. You don’t want it to end. Because when it ends, things might not ever be the same. And that scares you.

While their words of confession are simple, their love conveyed more in the language of shared gazes and repressed emotions that leave you with a myriad of questions. Even though you had a feeling, you are still left awestruck. The melody, the lights, and the atmosphere seem to crystallize in that moment, etching the beginning of a new chapter.

I love you. Despite such a simple three word phrase, you can’t sayt it right now, You can’t even gather all the words you want to say right now. Maybe because you feel nervous right now, but you will save it for when you go home. And that’s now. You all need to go back now. You need to be somewhere where you can throw all your love and make it known how much you care for them. You just can’t do that here.

The urge to go to the sanctuary that will let you liberate your feelings before it feels like it’s too late.

Without any other words, you respond with a smile, bright and with hidden intentions. “Let’s go home?”

With no questions asked, they seem to understand your intentions and take you away.

+++++++++++

The atmosphere in your room is heavy with unspoken emotions as you all made your way back home from the night market. The walk is quiet, with occasional flustered glances exchanged between you, Jimin, and Yoongi. The air is tense with anticipation and uncertainty.

Upon entering your room, the tension lingers. You go sit in the center of your bed and gesture your two friends to join you on it. It takes a moment to collect your thoughts, wanting your own words to sound heartfelt before breaking the silence.

"Yoongi…Jimin…." That sounds too serious, but there is no way to just confess something that has probably been 10 years in the making without you really realizing it.

Jimin looks at you with a mixture of hope and anxiety, while Yoongi maintains a calm demeanor, his eyes reflecting understanding. You take a deep breath, grappling with the weight of your decision.

"I don’t even know what to say, but I appreciate both of your confessions.” You pause for a moment, letting out a sigh, before continuing, “I want to say I love you both too. A lot. More than I ever thought I did before, and this whole deal really opened my eyes to those feelings.” You glance at both of them, trying to gauge their own reactions to your words. In a way, it’s like reassurance to convince yourself to keep going. You’d probably crawl into a hole and die if maybe you heard wrong earlier and now they’re incredibly confused as to why you’re saying this.

But it’s not like that at all. Yoongi’s cat-like smile right now is one of those things that has always reassured you when you were uncertain in the past. His eyes turn glossy, while trying to put up a composed exterior, as he patiently waits to hear you say more. Jimin, on the other hand, becomes flustered from hearing your confession. You notice him fidgeting with his fingers and biting his lips, which is something he only does when he’s feeling shy. If only you were aware that every beat of their hearts echo in silence and anticipation.

“I never imagined myself in this situation,” you admit, “But it’s clear that my feelings have evolved so much after realizing the small things that you’ve done for me, not just recently, but ever since I met you two. And eventually I realized that I love you two in different ways as well.” You take a deep breath, attempting to articulate the intricate dance of emotions within your heart.

“Yoongi, you’ve always felt like my other half.” You confess further, “It’s like we’re always in tune with each other’s thoughts and feelings. I feel like you complete parts of me that I couldn’t find on my own.”

"Especially during those times when my relationships soured and I struggled trying to socialize with new people," You admit, your voice taking on a more reflective tone. "You were there for me, Yoongi. Your understanding and steadiness became my anchor in those turbulent moments. When I felt lost, your presence brought a sense of calm and assurance. You've seen me at my lowest, yet you never wavered."

You reach out towards Yoongi’s hand, thumb tracing the back of it. "Jimin, you're someone who makes me feel so free," you confess, a genuine smile playing on your lips. "You've always managed to coax me out of my shell, and without you, I don't think I'd be the person I am today."

Jimin's eyes light up with a mix of gratitude and happiness.

“And," you add, a hint of playfulness coloring your tone, "I can't forget that you were my first kiss. It was a moment filled with happiness and warmth, a memory I cherish deeply. You made me feel safe, and I truly always look back to that time when we were young and innocent."

You lift up your hand to caress Jimin's cheeks, which flush with a rosy hue. A mix of surprise and joy twinkle in his eyes.

"Thank you for sharing your feelings with us," Yoongi speaks first, his voice a gentle melody that resonates in the room. "It means a lot to know that I mean so much to you in that way. We've been through so much together, and knowing that feeling is mutual is the greatest feeling ever."

Jimin shares his gratitude as well and adds, "I never expected to hear such beautiful words from you. It's like a dream come true knowing that you love me and think about those things too.”

They’re so sweet, you think. A part of you internally questions if you’re really deserving of their love, but you push it away. You can’t let anything stop you right now. “There’s a lot more I want to know from you, but for now, I wanted to ask if we could do something before…this all ends.”

Curiosity sparkles in their eyes as they turn their attention to you. "What is it?" Yoongi inquires, his voice filled with a blend of interest and anticipation.

Jimin, on the verge of voicing his thoughts, begins, "Is it..."

“Could we…try a threesome?”

The suggestion hangs in the air, catching them off guard. Jimin's eyes widen, surprised by the proposal, while Yoongi raises an eyebrow, a hint of amusement playing on his lips.

"W-Wow…holy shit…" Jimin stammers, his cheeks turning a subtle shade of pink. “Say no more, I’m fucking down.”

You chuckle nervously, "Really? It’s just for tonight. A final hurrah before…whatever happens."

Yoongi smirks, "Well, that's unexpected. Are you sure you're up for it? I mean, I’m willing to do it."

You nod nervously, determined to bring a sense of ease to the situation. "It's our last night under this deal we have. I’m also on birth control so we could try anything and everything. So whenever you’re ready—"

You stop speaking as you notice their eyes darken slowly, lust hidden behind them. Without a word, their actions become synchronized, and the atmosphere shifts subtly.

Jimin, always the bolder one, is the first to make a move. His lips press against the sensitive skin of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. You inhale sharply, the unexpected warmth of his kiss catching you off guard. Meanwhile, Yoongi's gaze remains fixed on you, a mixture of desire and uncertainty in his eyes.

As Jimin's kisses trail up toward your jawline, Yoongi gets closer, his fingers lightly tracing patterns on your waist. The room is filled with a soft, anticipatory hum as their actions synchronize, creating a symphony of sensations.

Their lips meet at the curve of your jaw, and for a moment, there's a gentle collision of their lips. It catches you off guard, though Jimin doesn’t seem too shocked and Yoongi remains neutrally curious. You find yourself gradually immersed in the experience and wanting to see how things could go.

Before things can get more interesting for you to see, their lips soon meet yours in a shared kiss that starts tentatively. An initial awkwardness you felt asking for this melts away, replaced by a growing sense of connection. The taste of both Yoongi and Jimin on your lips creates a unique and intoxicating blend. Sweet, intoxicating and sinful.

Yoongi unzips your dress from the left side and both men begin removing your dress, their hands move with a synchronized urgency. As your dress falls away, you sit there before them in nothing but your lingerie, vulnerable yet empowered by the raw desire written across their faces. You feel a rush of heat flood your cheeks as their gazes linger on your exposed form, their desire palpable in the air.

They immediately begin undressing themselves, losing to their own lust, throwing their clothes on the floor and pushing you down on the bed. Yoongi begins fondling your breasts, fingers inching toward your core. Jimin on the other hand, frees your right breast from your bra cup and attaches his lips to your nipple.

"Mmph," your moan escapes your lips as you arch your back, feeling the heated, sloppy kiss of Jimin's mouth all around on your tit. He's unrelenting with his hold and you are helpless under his touch. Your breasts have always been so sensitive that it makes you nearly lose it already. The idea of you so weak for him and nobody else that you can’t even stand. The sensation continues to shoot through your body like an electrical current, making your core clench and your hips buck slightly.

Yoongi inches closer, his gaze never leaving your face as he keeps one hand gently kneading your breast while he uses the other to slowly begin tracing circular patterns over the lacy fabric covering your clit. The anticipation is almost unbearable, building a crescendo of desire that threatens to consume you. You need more of them.

With a sudden urgency, you pull them down onto the bed, your eagerness surprising both of them. Their soft laughter only fuels the fire as you straddle Jimin to kiss him more, your hands grabbing his hardening cock under you and giving it several strokes. He deepens the kiss almost immediately and as soon as your mouth opens for him, your tongues brush against each other in fervor. It's so sloppy and carnal and just simply pornographic, but it's also filled with enough emotion and intimacy to make your knees buckle. You move your hand to massage his balls in time, and he nearly keels over, mouth falling open. He lets out a gasp when your thumb circles his throbbing tip.

On the opposite end, Yoongi kneels down, his free hand lifting your hips upwards before his mouth leans in and meets your swollen clit.

You hear smacking sounds immediately, and combined with how this feels, his skillful lips and hands have you crying out, squirming, and grasping onto Jimin for dear life. Yoongi called this ‘taking you to Hong Kong”. You still don’t know why, but fuck, does he do it so well. It’s literally your favorite thing in the world since this deal started.

With his tongue licking and circling your clit, you know you aren't going to hold on much longer. He moans against your hard bud, enjoying this just as much as you are. His fingers dig into the soft skin of your ass spreading them apart adding yet another sensation. You try to not let the coil in your stomach release wanting to hold onto this feeling for as long as possible. It feels somewhat embarrassing if you’re the one cumming so much so soon.

Though, it’s inevitable that you’ll go insane from all these different sensations.

The intensity of the moment is palpable. You continue devouring Jimin’s lips, feeling his body heat and sweat against yours. Yoongi removes himself from you, denying the orgasm from coming. But you’re too focused on Jimin to worry about it, which makes Yoongi irritated.

This leads to him slowly sliding up beside you and gently running a hand along your ass, his fingers grazing the lace of your panties. The sensation is electrifying, and you can't help but moan softly into Jimin's lips.

"You want more, don't you?" Yoongi whispers seductively into your ear. His voice is low and rumbling, sending shivers down your spine. You nod eagerly, unable to find the words to respond.

“Hehe…Darling’s so needy,” Jimin pulls away from the kiss, giving you a knowing smile. In perfect harmony, the two men begin to undress the remaining lingerie, their hands moving with a fluid movement, their eyes never leaving yours. You feel vulnerable and exposed, yet simultaneously aroused and empowered by their desire for you.

Their fingers gently caressing your skin, you feel an electric current running through your body. They lay you down on the bed, positioning you on your hands and knees, facing the large mirror on the wall. That cursed mirror that you had once faced previously, though just with Yoongi.

You take a deep breath as you see your reflection, your arousal evident in the flushed skin and dilated pupils. Yoongi moves in behind you, his hands on your hips, pulling you closer to him. You feel his erection against your ass, a silent reminder of what is to come.

Jimin kneels in front of you, grabbing his cock and slapping it across your cheek, bringing your attention back to him. And he says you’re the needy one. Ha. You aim your head towards his waiting length and open your mouth. He thrusts in slowly, filling your mouth without trying to make you gag on it. Not today!

As you begin to suck on Jimin's cock, you feel Yoongi's middle finger slide into your pussy, mimicking the motion of your mouth. He pumps his finger in and out, with each second making you go into a trance. The tiny moans you let out at just one finger pushes him to add another right next to it. The way your walls contract as if fighting back against him pushing and pulling and spreading you open is driving him insane. He wants to feel it for himself, squeezing and milking him for all he’s worth. Your sounds of pleasure fill the room when you pull your mouth away from Jimin to control your breathing.

“Make those pretty sounds louder. You already know how much I love to hear them.” Jimin coaxes you further. You’ve known he gets off on your moans since the first day you fucked him.

Yoongi watches your reflection in the mirror, a mix of lust and satisfaction playing across his face. He's always been fascinated by the way your body responds to him, the way it seems to crave his touch. He feels euphoric whenever he gets to fuck you like this, but even more right now.

Jimin’s aware of Yoongi’s possessiveness as he watches this exchange, his heart pounding in his chest. He wants nothing more than to fuck you and even him if the opportunity presented itself. Though the latter is not for today. It would be a dream to just do this in the future and give his best friends the pleasure they so desperately crave.

As you continue to suck Jimin's cock, Yoongi increases the pace of his fingers thrusting inside you. You feel like you're on the edge of something incredible, a pleasure so intense that you can barely breathe. He's unrelenting with his grip and you are helpless under his touch–his fingers are pumping faster and faster until you’re a trembling mess. Yoongi holds your hips up with one arm to keep you stable.

After your quivering stops, he pulls out his fingers.

“Mmh.” You groan around Jimin’s dick, which entices him to go faster.

“Hold on. You’ll get what you want. Be patient.” Yoongi chuckles in response as you whine from the loss of feeling him. After, he positions himself behind you, his cock throbbing against your entrance. He pushes himself inside you, filling you completely. You moan around Jimin's cock, the sensation of being filled by both of them in different places is overwhelming. Yoongi grips your hips, setting a leisurely pace as he watches the mirror. You glance upwards at Jimin, whose head is thrown back in his pleasure. Your fingers dance across the toned muscles of his stomach before gripping his hip urging him to push further.

Jimin pulls out of your mouth when he feels himself getting close. He doesn’t want to finish in your mouth. He’s done that many times before, and wants to change things up. There’s something that he has in mind that he wants to try.

He moves towards Yoongi and tells him that he wants to trade positions, telling him to lay under you instead. Yoongi immediately gets what the younger man is plotting and moves to position himself under you, his cock glistening with your juices. He lines himself up with your entrance, slowly pushing into you. A soft moan falls from your lips. This new angle hits new spots inside you. When Yoongi doesn’t immediately thrust, you rock your hips watching carefully for a reaction on his face. He grabs your hips holding you in place as Jimin situates himself behind you. “Darling, is it okay if we try double penetration?” Jimin asks, very shyly.

Your eyes widen a bit. You haven’t tried this with either of them before simply because the thought of it scared you and you also thought it was unsanitary. So you haven’t done this with anyone. You don’t know if you’re ready for that tonight. You’re honestly more open to doing it in one hole for now…Wait could you even do it? Could they both fit… Well it’s worth the shot.

“Could you guys do it in the same… hole?” You try to word out. This feels embarrassing. Your horniess is going to jump out the window trying to have this conversation. Please just agree to it, guys.

The two men sense your timidness and nod.

“Yeah, that sounds more exciting.” Jimin smirks.

“We’ll try it.” Yoongi moves some strands of hair behind your ear to have a better view of your face. God, you’re glad they can’t see you blushing so hard in the darkness of this room with only the moonlight coming in.

“There’s lube in my bedside table.” You mumble not wanting to believe you are saying that out loud.

Both men raise an eyebrow and you playfully hit Yoongi’s chest. Behind you Jimin opens the drawer to retrieve the lube without a comment.

“Damn, Y/N, were you planning this?” Yoongi smirks and you lean forward to kiss him so he won’t be able to say another word.

He takes his opportunity to hold the back of your neck and thrust into you until you have to pull away. Your moans fill the air only fueling the fire inside of Yoongi and Jimin. After a few more seconds Yoongi pulls you off his cock and against his chest stroking your hair. Behind you Jimin opens the lube bottle squirting a generous amount onto his hand. You hear the bottle click shut and he tosses it to the side.

Your head lifts enough to see Jimin stroking his cock in the mirror. Yoongi’s grip on you tightens momentarily as a shocked gasp is pulled from his plump lips. With a look over your shoulder you see Jimin coating Yoongi’s cock with lube. His small fingers wrap expertly around his best friend’s length.

There’s definitely something here you need to uncover in the future, but for now, you enjoy their acts.

When both men are properly lubricated you guide Yoongi back inside of you. He slips in easily and Jimin carefully lines himself at your entrance, and very, very slowly pushes his way in. Oh no, there’s a sting already. You feel a few tears pooling as you try to accept more of him. Fuck. You don’t think you can do this.

“Angel, it’s okay. Just take a deep breath and relax your body. Take as long as you need.” Yoongi reassures you and you nod. Things like this remind you why you love this man so much.

You take his advice, taking short breaks in between to get comfortable as Jimin keeps going. You feel both of them filling you, their cocks stretching you wide. Once they’re fully in, you wait a bit to adjust to the sensation, taking deep breaths to relax yourself. It feels so weird, but so comforting. It’s something you can’t explain unless you experience it.

Yoongi starts to thrust, his cock slamming into your pussy with quick force. Meanwhile, Jimin starts to match his pace, his cock sliding in and out of you in perfect sync with Yoongi's thrusts.

You cry out in pleasure, the sensation of being completely taken overcoming you.

You can't help but scream as the ecstasy builds inside you. Your body starts to shake, and you know you're close. Yoongi and Jimin are not far behind you being much more vocal than any other time you’ve been with either of them. This must feel just as earth shatteringly pleasurable for them as it does for you.

"Fuck, yes!" Jimin growls as he slams into you, his eyes locked on your reflection in the mirror. "That's it, take it all! You’re so good!" His voice is deep, hoarse with desire as he watches your arousal grow with each thrust.

Yoongi’s eyes never leave yours, his expression a mix of pleasure and anticipation. He thrusts deeper, harder, feeling your muscles clench around him as you near your release.

"Fuck, angel, you feel so amazing," he whispers, kissing your sweat-slicked forehead.

Suddenly, the three of you are lost in the throes of passion, your bodies moving together in perfect harmony. The sounds of flesh slapping against flesh fill the room, mixed with your gasps and moans of pleasure.

Just as you think you can't take any more, Yoongi and Jimin both pick up the pace, their bodies moving with a rhythm that's both primal and beautiful. You can feel their erections throbbing inside you. Yoongi takes this opportunity to start kissing your breasts and sucking your nipples. Jimin moves his hand under you to flick at your clit, adding an extra layer of stimulation that sends you over the edge.

Your body tightens around them, signaling that you're about to cum. Yoongi and Jimin feel your muscles contracting around their cocks, and they know that you're about to explode. They both thrust harder, trying to push you over the edge.

"Fuck, I'm going to cum!" Jimin growls, his hips bucking wildly. "Finally going to fill you up!"

"I'm close, too," Yoongi gasps, his eyes locked on yours. "You feel so fucking good, angel."

Your body trembles uncontrollably as they continue to fuck you, their cocks hitting your sweet spots over and over. The pleasure builds and builds, until finally, you can't take it anymore.

“F-Fuck! Mmh!” Your orgasm explodes once again through you like a lightning bolt, your body shuddering and quivering. Almost simultaneously Jimin and Yoongi finish inside you. The sensation of their cum fillig you to the brim feels so odd, but equally satisfying. Jimin collapses onto your back panting in his euphoric post orgasm haze.

Jimin pulls out first watching as the mixture of his and Yoongi’s cum drips down the length still inside you. Yoongi pulls you off his length watching as your legs quiver their cum trailing down your leg as he lays you beside him. Jimin goes into your bathroom to grab a towel, dampens it in water, and dabs it gently on your lower regions to clean. Feels as if the evidence of what transpired earlier is being erased. Just like when the clock struck midnight and Cinderella’s transformation became undone. Though, it’s not even midnight right now.

With a soft sigh, you lay down beside Yoongi after Jimin finished cleaning you, your body trying to get comfortable on the bed. The sheets beneath you are a soothing touch against your skin and surprisingly, not really wet at all from the orgasms. You can even feel the residual warmth from the shared moments with Yoongi and Jimin.

Jimin, attuned to the unspoken rhythm of the moment, gracefully positions himself on your other side. He mirrors your movements, creating a seamless transition as he settles beside you. The bed becomes a canvas for this intimate tableau, the three of you forming a gentle embrace.

Now, you find yourself sandwiched between the two men who have become such integral parts of your life. Imagining the scene right now in third person feels weird to think about. The afterglow of shared experiences paints a soft glow on each face, and a sense of tranquility permeates the room. The warmth of their bodies on either side of you creates a space of comfort, a sanctuary.

With a synchronized movement, both Yoongi and Jimin turn onto their sides, facing you. Their arms encircle you in a tender embrace. You really do feel so safe here in their arms. Their fingers trace soothing patterns on your skin, and their touch becomes a delicate dance, a silent expression of their feelings for you.

As you bask in the post-intimacy tranquility, Jimin breaks the serene silence. His voice is a gentle murmur, "So, about what we talked about earlier... any thoughts on who you're leaning towards?" His eyes, a mix of hope and excitement, search yours for an answer.

Many thoughts flood your mind about what to say, and you take a deep breath before responding, "I…still need another day, Jimin. It's not an easy choice. I think this whole thing made it harder for me to decide…" Once you finish speaking, you can sense the disappointment that flickers across both of their expressions, but it's Jimin's reaction that stands out. The excitement that had danced in his eyes begins to fade, replaced by a subtle irritation.

Yoongi nods in understanding, his expression stoic. "Take the time you need, Y/N. We want you to be sure."

Jimin, however, turns his back to you, a silent gesture of frustration. Despite staying in the bed, the shift in his demeanor is noticeable. He remains present physically but seems to withdraw emotionally. Unable to ignore the tension, you decide to address the unspoken. "Jimin, are you okay?" you inquire gently, your voice barely above a whisper. His back remains turned to you, a subtle resistance in his posture.

A sigh escapes him, and he shifts slightly. "Yeah, I'm fine," he mumbles against your pillow, his voice a delicate blend of resignation and disappointment. It's too obvious that he’s not okay with this.

Yoongi, sensing the undercurrents, tightens his hold around you, offering silent reassurance. He understands the complexity of the situation, respecting the need for time and clarity.

In the quiet moments that follow, Jimin speaks up again, his voice softer this time, "I just thought... I don't know. It's frustrating, that's all."

His vulnerability becomes more apparent as he wrestles with the emotions stirred by the unfolding events.

You reach out, your hand gently finding its way to Jimin's shoulder. The touch is a tender acknowledgment, a silent assurance that the complexities of your emotions are not lost on you. "Jimin, I promise to give you guys an answer soon. I just need a little more time…” You think you should tell them about Namjoon telling you he’s in love with you. Transparency rule, right? They would understand you want to think this through more knowing how this is a tough decision. “Namjoon told me he likes me awhile back. He told me I didn’t have to give him my answer right then and there, but now that’s also been stressing me lately.”

Jimin, still facing away from you, visibly tenses at the revelation. It's as if the room, already steeped in complexity, has become even more intricate. Yoongi's grip around you remains steady, but you can feel him tense up a bit from the mention.

"Namjoon?" Yoongi's voice carries a mix of surprise and, perhaps, a hint of insecurity.

"Why didn't you tell us sooner?" Jimin, still facing away, speaks, his voice edged with a touch of frustration. "I... I wanted to figure things out on my own first before bringing it up," you admit, your gaze shifting between Yoongi and Jimin. "It's not like I kept that from you intentionally. I just needed some time to process and evaluate everything."

Jimin remains silent for a moment before speaking, his words measured, "Evaluate things now that you're considering him too?"

Yoongi nods, his expression unreadable. "This doesn't make things any easier for us." he remarks, a hint of weariness in his voice.

He's right, and you know it. Maybe you shouldn’t have opened your big fat mouth. But you had to be honest with them about what’s been going on. Taking a deep breath, you continue, "Namjoon is our best friend too, and I don't want to ignore his feelings. I need to figure out what’s the best thing to do and how it might affect all of us."

Your words hang in the air as you all settle into an uneasy silence. There’s just too much right now leaving you grappling with uncertainty. With a shared understanding that words might not provide the resolution needed at the moment, you decide to let the night take its course.

Yoongi, sensing the need for a change in the atmosphere, suggests, "Let's get some rest. We can talk more tomorrow." He turns to face away from you and wraps himself up more with the blankets and sheets on your bed.

Jimin, still facing away from you, doesn’t say anything.

As you lay there, staring at the ceiling, you can't help but wonder if there’s even a good ending in store for you. You think through hundreds of different scenarios, but can only imagine hurt at the end of them. Sleep eludes you for a while, the pressure of your decision stressing your mind.

The room gradually quiets down, and the soft sounds of nighttime take over.

+++++++++++

February 15 [Friday] You wake up the next morning, entangled in limbs and surrounded by the body warmth from the men who made love to you the night before. You are still half-asleep when you hear a voice calling out your name.

“Y/N…”

When you get up, your eyes bulge out from the immediate sight of Jungkook at the foot of your bed.

“Jungkook? What the fuck.”

You’re so close to yelling, but quickly remind yourself where you are and what day it is. It’s your room at the Beta Tau house and it’s Friday. Wait fuck! Why are Jimin and Yoongi still in your bed? The jolt you did in reaction to Jungkook causes the two men beside you to wake up. Yoongi looks grumpy as he slowly gets up, while Jimin cutely rubs his eyes. Once they make eye to eye contact with Jungkook, they’re wide awake.

“Y/N… Jimin…Hyung… you all need to be more careful.”

“Jungkook, how the fuck did you get in here?” Jimin groans.

“Through the door like a normal fucking person.” Jungkook looks at each of you and sighs. “I knew about Honey and Yoongi that one time, but when the hell did this all happen?”

“Long story.” Yoongi takes this time to respond, rather shortly as he puts his hands through his hair. “I’m not even going to ask right now. It’s 7am in the morning. I was about to go to the gym before class, but saw Jimin didn’t even come back last night and his location was off. I was worried so I came in to ask you and then I see this…” You’re not going to lie, you feel embarrassed that you got caught like this. “Anyways, get back to your rooms before anyone else notices.”

“Jungkook…” You look at him with sincerity in your eyes.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to blabber about this. I wouldn’t want to cause anything bad in the house.” He reassures you and leaves the room. Yoongi and Jimin get off the bed, get dressed and exit the room. They don’t address you as they leave, which leaves you feeling a bit hurt. But you can’t blame them. They were definitely expecting you to pick one of them. Now you told them Joon’s in this …”competition for your affections”. And you said you’d need one more day to give them a response. You wouldn’t be too surprised if they’re mad, even if they’re not explicitly showing it. But you’ll do it today. Nothing will stop you today!

++++++++++++++++++++++

Anxiety gnaws at you more with time.

As the day progresses, you find yourself immersed in thinking about your school work, while the unresolved situation with Yoongi and Jimin lingers in the background. Despite the attempts of your friends to engage you in conversation during lunch, you can't shake off the cloud of unease that shadows your thoughts.

After your only noon Friday class, you join Taehyung, Namjoon, and Jin for lunch on the lawn behind the Redwood Literature Hall. The atmosphere is somewhat warm as the sun shines brightly. The laughter and casual banter between the guys fills the air. However, your mind remains preoccupied, distant even as you nod and smile along with the conversation.

Namjoon, perceptive as ever, seems to catch on that something is bothering you. Instead of directly addressing it, he smoothly transitions the conversation, attempting to involve you more.

"So what game are we playing for Friday Night Game Night?" he asks, a twinkle of excitement in his eyes.

"Huh?" You're momentarily caught off guard, the shift from your internal thoughts to external conversation a bit disorienting.

"What? Did you forget we scheduled game night this week, Tiny? We've been trying not to miss doing this at least once a month with everyone," Namjoon chuckles as he reminds you.

"I'm sorry. I've been busy thinking about school work."

"You don't have anything tonight, do you?" Namjoon inquires.

"I..." The truth is: you don't want to have game night tonight. It's ironic how, just a few months ago, you were in Namjoon's shoes—eagerly asking if people would join game night and witnessing the waning interest in one of your favorite pastimes with the Beta Tau boys. Skipping out now might raise suspicions, especially since you assume Yoongi and Jimin will be there. Running away from the situation is not an option.

"No, I don’t. Maybe we could play drunk Jenga with the rules on the blocks? I think it's in Hoseok’s room. I'll ask him for it later." you suggest.

"Ooh, we haven't played that since last year!" Taehyung chimes in, with food in his mouth before swallowing.

"Sounds chill then." Namjoon continues eating some of the salad in his bowl before adding, "Wait, I'm going to have to leave game night a little early because I have to finish helping San and John with a film project in the library. Gonna pull an all-nighter. You guys won't mind?"

"No, we don't mind!" You and Jin say in unison, reassuring him.

"Yeah, go help them. You won't miss too much, well maybe Jimin getting naked or something." Taehyung's playful remark elicits laughter from the group, momentarily lightening the atmosphere. You join in the laughter, appreciating the effort to inject some levity into the conversation. As you all finish your lunch and head separate ways, you continue to prep yourself internally to confront them with a final answer. But when?!

+++++++++++++++++

Before you know it, you’re there.

Night falls, and all the boys gather around the expansive U-shaped couch in the living room of the Beta Tau house. The room is bathed in lighting of string lights hung haphazardly across the walls. Jin hung them months ago after he found out how much nicer the house looked with ambient lighting on at night. The music resonates from the Samsung TV, streaming from someone's Spotify account—most likely Jungkook's, given how similar the songs are to your music tastes.

On the coffee table sits an array of American and Korean snacks, creating a tempting spread that the guys start to grab. The assortment includes chips, popcorn, and desserts, complemented by an enticing mix of beer and soju. You grab one of the Strawberry flavored sojus and take a sip out of it. Mmm. Still gives you trauma from your first college hangover, but you need it to get through this night. Your eyes shift to Yoongi and Jimin, who sit to your right, conversing with Namjoon and Jungkook. You haven’t talked to them all day and you’re wondering if something is actually up beyond what they say.

Sudden anticipation rises as Hoseok makes a grand entrance, unveiling his stash of hard liquors from the top kitchen cabinet, eliciting cheers and excitement from everyone in the room. Hoseok, holding up a bottle of whiskey, interrupts the banter, "Enough chit-chat. Who's up for some real fun?"

Taehyung, his eyes gleaming with excitement, exclaims, "Count me in for anything that involves these bottles." He starts looking through all the bottles..

“You really went all out tonight! Some of these are expensive as fuck.” Jungkook, clearly impressed, examines a bottle labeled "The Yamazaki" and asks, "Hyung, how did you manage to snag this one?”

“My sister’s boyfriend gifted this one to me.” He giggles, grabbing shot glasses to place on the table for everyone. "Enough about that, we're doing shots out of this whiskey.” He gestures for everyone to grab a glass as he pours everyone up. Raising their glasses in the air, Jin proposes a toast, "To being single, wild, and free!"

That’s…for fucks sake.

The room falls into an awkward silence as everyone stares at Jin, confused by the unexpected toast. “What? Are we not single, wild, and free?”

“Hyung, it’s...that was just weird.” Jimin narrows his eyes, clearly puzzled by the sentiment.

“Just take the shot already, guys!” Jin chuckles, his ears reddening from embarrassment in the face of the disapproval of his toast. The room erupts into laughter, breaking the brief awkwardness, and everyone throws back their shots, the smooth whiskey burning down your throat. The hints of fruit to the wood-like taste made it somewhat bearable. You’re definitely a soju and wine girl. You don’t know how the guys love hard liquor.

As the whiskey warms everyone up, the group gathers on the floor around the coffee table, where the Drunk Jenga tower awaits its fate. The wooden blocks contain a unique challenge or rule at the bottom of it that you must do when you decide to move it.

Namjoon, already showing signs of tipsiness, gives the tower a skeptical look. "This better be worth the trouble."

Jimin, on the other hand, seems more excited, his eyes glinting mischievously. "Come on, Kim Namjoon, where's your sense of adventure?"

The first few turns are light and easy, with challenges like “Arm Wrestle", “Make an animal noise” and "clothes swap". The atmosphere is lively, and the guys are getting into the spirit of the game.

As the rounds progress, you all reach for your drinks more frequently, the clinking of glasses punctuating the room's growing merriment. The initial caution around the game transitions into a more carefree atmosphere as bottles are passed around and everyone takes hearty swigs between turns.

Namjoon, always one to embrace a challenge, starts pouring stronger drinks for himself, Yoongi, and Jimin. "Let's spice things up, boys!"

The room resonates with laughter and cheers as the alcohol takes its toll. Yoongi, normally reserved, finds himself loosening up, his witty remarks becoming bolder. Jimin, with his playful nature, encourages everyone to take bigger sips, and everyone starts getting more suggestive blocks.

The tower, now a precarious construction of wooden blocks, becomes the focal point of the party. Namjoon, fueled by liquid courage, seizes a block that reads, "Twerk on a table."

A hush falls over the room as Namjoon considers the challenge. Without a second thought, he positions himself on a sturdy table, sending the tower into a swaying frenzy. The guys watch in a mix of shock and amusement as Namjoon begins a twerking performance, his moves dangerously close to toppling both the tower and the table.

Jin, caught between laughter and concern, yells, "Namjoon, be careful! We can't afford to lose the Jenga tower yet!"

Namjoon, lost in the moment, twerks with unbridled enthusiasm, nearly bringing chaos to the game. The room erupts in cheers and applause as he completes the challenge, stumbling off the table with a triumphant grin.

As he gets off the table, he seems to be out of it, but then sobers up suddenly to say, “Fuck, I gotta go meet up with the other guys. I’m gonna call it a night for me!”

Everyone bids him goodnight as he probably won’t be back until the next morning. He grabs a jacket, a hangover drink from the fridge and water before you watch him head out the door. You hope he’ll be fine.

You all continue playing, the tower becomes less stable. It was Yoongi’s turn next. He pulls a block with finesse, reading it aloud, "Kiss, Marry Kill? You mean Fuck, marry, kill?"

Taehyung grins, rubbing his hands together, clearly enjoying the chance to make Yoongi spill. "Alright, pick 3 of Honey’s girl friends."

Uh what. Did he just seriously just ask that? You immediately raise an eyebrow at Taehyung for saying such a thing, but he doesn’t notice. Wait, is it bad that you're reacting like this? But that’s so weird to ask in general.

"I don't think I can answer that." Yoongi responds directly with a cold tone. He grabs one of the bottles of soju from the variety pack next to the table in preparation to pour in his shot glass as he chooses to take a drink instead of answering. It makes sense to you why he wouldn’t answer, given what he confessed the night before.

Though, the tension in the room becomes palpable as Taehyung's question hangs in the air, seeming to try to think of a way to convince him to respond. The playful atmosphere takes a sharp turn, and you can sense Yoongi's discomfort with the unexpected question.

A tense silence lingers for a moment before Jimin, unable to resist the opportunity to stir the pot, chimes in, "Why not, Yoongi? It's just a game. Scared your choices will upset someone?"

What’s he up to? You don’t get what he’s talking about. He must be drunk. You see Jungkook and Hoseok rush to get water to sober him up, sensing trouble. Taehyung and Jin sit there watching, unable to move as they’re also confused as to why Jimin is trying to incite something.

You shoot Jimin a sharp look, your patience wearing thin. "Jimin, he can answer it if he wants. It's just a game."

He smirks, an edge of bitterness in his tone, "Yeah, just a game. Just like this whole situation we’re in, right?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Your eyes narrow, the playful atmosphere taking a sour turn.

Yoongi, sensing the escalating tension, intervenes, "Alright, enough. Let's not ruin the night with unnecessary bullshit. I’ll take the shot and we move on."

The other guys are very confused at the sudden argument happening. Oh god, if Jimin doesn’t shut up right now, everyone’s going to find out.

You roll your eyes, growing weary of the veiled remarks. "Jimin, seriously, just drop it. This is not the time or place. It’s Friday Night Game Night."

He smirks again, a calculated move to get under your skin, "Oh, but when you’re the one deciding the time and place for stuff and never going through with things, that’s fine?"

"Hey, we talked about this already. Why are you acting like this?” Yoongi becomes growingly frustrated. Okay? What did they talk about that you’re missing out on exactly? This is getting ridiculous. You’re clearly missing a big piece of a puzzle that you didn’t know existed.

Jimin ignores his efforts of mediation, unwilling to let it go. "Maybe if someone could actually make a decision, we wouldn't have to keep playing these games."

Your patience snaps, and you retort, "Maybe if someone wasn’t acting like a child, we could go outside and have a mature conversation about whatever you’re fucking on about!"

“Maybe if I fucking told you earlier about the pact me, Yoongi, and Namjoon made in high school. We wouldn’t have ever gotten in this dumb ass de—” Jimin’s words are immediately cut off by Yoongi’s attempt to shut him up by covering his mouth. A struggle ensues as Jimin fights to break free.

Your eyes widen, a mix of shock and seething anger crossing your face. "Hold on. What? What pact? This is all news to me."

Your mind races, trying to comprehend the revelation. A pact made in high school? Over what? Don’t fucking say it’s a pact so they wouldn’t sleep with you. What the fuck. The realization hits like a sucker punch, leaving you feeling betrayed and blindsided. How could they have gotten into this fuck buddies deal and have clearly broken the honesty rule since day 0? Even though you were feeling bad only a few months ago when you had slept with Jimin. But at least you came clean to Yoongi as soon as you could.

But what the hell is this?! Who in this damn world would be okay with hearing their own best friends making some fucking bro code deal under the table?

Yoongi groans, speaking calmly, "It was supposed to be a stupid thing, just a way to avoid drama between us. I didn’t think it mattered anymore. We didn't think it would become a big deal anyways."

Your voice trembles with a mix of anger and hurt, "A big deal? You guys are my best friends and hid some fucking pact that you made a few years ago? How is that not a big deal?"

Jimin uses whatever strength he has while drunk to free himself from Yoongi's clutches. Though, his expression remains unapologetic, he shrugs, "It was for the best…at the time. We didn't want to ruin our friendship over a girl. Didn’t think it would affect us as much as it did. "

You scoff, disbelief coloring your tone, "A girl? I’m literally your fucking best friend, Park. So, what, you guys broke it how? Deciding to fuck me and forget your bro code!?”

Fuck.

As if the universe was suddenly signaling the end of this ordeal, the sudden jolt you made as you yelled at him causes the jenga tower to fall. The wooden blocks scatter across the table and on the floor, making the impact of the argument land even harder.

The bomb was dropped.

The room is engulfed in a heavy silence, the weight of the revelations settling in like a thick fog. The other guys exchange uncomfortable glances, sensing the gravity of the situation. Taehyung’s jaw is on the floor as he glances around, but cannot say anything. You hope to God he just doesn’t either. Knowing him, he’s going to make things worse without trying. Jin rubs his temples, while looking stressed, but somehow not that surprised. Jungkook and Hoseok return with water bottles, trying to diffuse the tension by offering it to Jimin. They also heard everything as they were in the kitchen, but do not comment on it. Jungkook was the only one who knew, but even then, the deal and pact is definitely news to everyone else.

This doesn’t stop the emotions swirling within you. Unlocking Pandora’s box that revealed the pact feels like a betrayal. You just can’t believe a secret pact between your best friends was kept hidden for years. How long? Was this when you were dating Yeonjun or even before those events? What about during the virginity race? Jimin's nonchalant attitude adds fuel to the fire, leaving you feeling beyond upset, hurt, and confused. He’s choosing not to answer your question.

It has to be because you hit the nail.

Yoongi, attempting to diffuse the tension, steps forward, "Look, we didn't plan for this to happen. We didn't think it through, and it got out of hand. We're sorry for not telling you earlier."

His apology hangs in the air, and you struggle to find the right words. You’re livid and they don’t even get it. Anxiety builds within you and now, the air starts to feel thick in this room, and everything seems to close in on you. You think you’re going to throw up if you continue staying in this room around them.

“Um, guys…maybe we should take a step back, cool off a bit. I have a lot of questions, but we can talk about this more calmly later." Jin, always the peacemaker, breaks the silence cautiously.

“Yeah, let’s take a break for now to sober up.” Hoseok adds.

Yoongi nods, a mixture of frustration and resignation settling in. "Yeah, maybe we should."

It would be good to step back right now and get your head wrapped around all of this, but you need to leave the house to do that. You can’t be around them right now. You need to go see Hwasa. Jieun. Soohyun. Soyoon. Fuck if you know who else, but you just can’t be here any longer.

"I'm leaving." Standing abruptly, you snatch your phone from the couch and grab your hoodie hanging by a chair. The room falls silent as you declare your departure, the heaviness of betrayal settling in your chest. Fueled by anxiety – the urge to throw up and the sting of unshed tears. You never envisioned yourself in this situation, feeling deceived and in a way, taken advantage of.

"What?" The question from Yoongi hangs in the air, a desperate plea for an explanation. You move towards the door in a hurried rush, a whirlwind of emotions overwhelming you.

As you make your way to the exit, Yoongi, Hoseok and Jungkook rush towards you, concern etched on their faces. They don’t want to let you out while you’re drunk and vulnerable, but you’re too out of it to consider that. Jimin remains seated on the floor next to Taehyung and Jin, waiting for the inevitable. Yoongi attempts to grab your hand, a gesture of known comfort, but you vehemently shoo it away.

"Don't touch me!" The words escape you, laden with hurt. You’re caught offguard by your own voice coming out. You come to a sudden halt, attempting to regain control over your breathing, needing to calm the storm within before you say things you don’t mean. The truth hangs heavy in the air, and you feel compelled to address the turmoil.

"I...I genuinely love you guys a lot." The confession spills out, a raw and explicit expression of the emotions coursing through you. "I struggled so much, agonizing over who to choose because I can't imagine a world without either of you by my side. The same goes for Joon. I enjoyed the times we had during this deal, but I wasn't going to pick any of you.” You turn to look at Jimin’s direction, who refuses to face you. “I wanted to put our friendship first and minimize any damage out of love and respect for you guys. But it seems like you guys weren't even considering that when breaking your little fucking pact!" The words linger, a bitter truth exposed in the wake of shattered expectations.

Yoongi stands there unable to respond, frustrated. Your eyes lock with his. Tears glisten on the brink of falling, reflecting a different kind of hurt behind his eyes – a hurt you can't bring yourself to delve into at this moment. Not in your current state.

Choosing to break the eye contact first, you turn away and head out the door, leaving the Beta Tau house behind. You don’t know when you’ll be back. You don’t want to be back anytime soon.

You headed to Hwasa's dorm, hoping to God that she's in that dorm on this Friday night. Because you're going to fall apart at any second as you trudge through the streets and onto campus.

As you make your way through the campus, you find your gaze involuntarily drawn towards the library. The familiar sight triggers the reflex to seek solace in Namjoon's company. Under normal circumstances, he would be your go-to person when something immediately troubled you or when things went awry with Yoongi and Jimin. However, this time feels different.

You shouldn’t go see him for now.

You carry on going onto the path toward Hwasa's dorm, hoping she's there to provide you support and understanding you desperately need in this moment of vulnerability. The anticipation and anxiety mount as you reach the building, your hands trembling as you dial Hwasa's number, yearning for a comforting voice in the chaos that has engulfed you.

“Y/N? Hey? What’s up—” “Please come to the front of your dorm building.” You interrupt her before she kept on speaking.

“Wait, Y/N what’s wrong—”

It’s this simple question that becomes the tipping point to you finally bursting out in sobs. No guys to hold you back, no deal to keep thinking about anymore.

“I-It’s over.”

–

tbc ?!!??! :O a/n: welp. the bomb was dropped. um. yes, that really just happened. the next chapter will be ... insane as well. I'm already writing it and I want you all to prepare yourselves! Anyone have any thoughts or theories on what will happen to our favorite quad and the rest of the house? i'd love to hear about them so lmk hehehe thank you all for reading!

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