#and then the studio floods but no one notices

[cordeliawhohung]

Core, what about a bit of competition with ps! Gaz? Some new girl who think's she's already the darling of the studio takes a liking to Gaz, but finds out about his ties with reader.

The one time she gets to film with Gaz, she overplays her role and absolutely covers his neck, collar, shoulder, everything with hickeys, hoping it will deter the reader.

So imagine her shock when the next day, she pops into his dressing room and finds the reader in there as well, applying foundation over the marks and littered with dozens from Gaz himself. ❤️

(I realize how dumb this sounds as an ask but it's been rotting my brain for days and I desperately need it gone so I can focus on my college classes 😭)

thanks this has also been rotting my brain because i just love putting people in their place (: more ps!gaz here <3

The crux of your ass sits in perfect place on Kyle's thighs while your legs straddle the expanse of his hips. Warm hands rest on your waist as you manhandle his jaw, tilting his head side to side to get better access to his neck. Thick, round hickeys litter the delicate skin around his throat and down to his shoulders in angry, red pinpoint marks that break the beautiful and even tone of his skin with something revolting. They look like proper bruises rather than the after effects of a... wild video shoot. As if someone had tried to strangle him rather than make love to him.

You remember the video well, along with that new model with her fake blonde hair and even faker tan that they had paired Kyle with to shoot the other day. You had only seen her in person one time, and you vividly recall the way her blue eyes rolled over your body, assessing every inch of you before ultimately deciding you were worth very little time. Confidence was a must when you worked in the porn industry, but her attitude borders on an arrogance you haven't seen since your teenage years in public school.

As you apply yellow color corrector onto the dark marks on his skin, you nearly shiver as the images of her stained lips suckling on Kyle's neck flood your mind. There was little room to feel jealousy about her ravaging your favorite co-star when you were too busy cringing. So childish. Over zealous. You nearly cried tears of laughter when you noticed Kyle's expression, grimacing at the wet tongue and annoying teeth that nipped at him, yet still having to pretend to enjoy it. Even the comments on the video joked about it.

Put him back with the other model.

"If I didn't know any better, I would have thought someone tried to strangle you," you tease.

"She might as well have," Kyle sighs. He adjusts his shoulders against the back of the chair, bare pecs flexing with the movement, bringing your attention to the uncovered marks that line his collarbone. "Haven't been able to go out in public without a goddamn turtleneck 'cause of her."

You chuckle as you finish applying and buffing out the rest of the color corrector along his skin. It leaves him looking sickly and discolored, which oddly enough is an improvement to what it looked like before. Setting the corrector to the side, you grab foundation next, hips swaying as you attempt to get some movement in your aching knees. Holding that position for so long without moving had them burning with fatigue.

"Need a break, doll?" Kyle prompts, hands sliding from your waist to your thighs.

"Don't know if we have time for a break. Got a lot of ground to cover before we start," you humor.

Kyle sits forward, throwing you off balance, yet he doesn't let you sway very far before his arms wrap around you, hands supporting your back. Adoring eyes crease as a grin floods his face. Even without the aid of studio lights he glows like a god as he leans closer and places a kiss on your neck.

"Show can't start without us," he says, teeth grazing your skin as he wanders down to your collarbone. "Could always give you a few hickeys to match, if you want."

He doesn't wait for you to answer before his tongue glides across your clavicles just for his teeth to follow right after. A chuckle rumbles in his chest at the tightening of your legs around his hips, and his hands only pull you closer. It doesn't take much for you to give in. Head rolling back, muscles melting as his lips conquer everything you're willing to give him. It's a delicate softness mixed with a brutal bite, something that leaves you gasping as he pulls the very air from your lungs and feeds on the sounds.

Kyle is more starved for you than usual. Sick of the fake, over dramatic screeching he got last week with that other model, he's hungry for the real thing. Hungry for you.

The unopened foundation falls free from your loose fingers and rolls along the floor into some forgotten corner when his hands wander underneath your shirt. It's a dance he has memorized; unclasping your bra without a second thought and tearing both it and your shirt off in a single, swift motion. He gives you little time to recover before his mouth is on your tits, kissing a sparse trail until he's rolling a perky nipple between his lips.

His bare skin feels like heaven underneath the palm of your hands as you grip his shoulders for stability. He'd take you on the cold, dressing room floors, you knew he would. A part of you wanted him to. Fuck the shoot, they should've learned well enough to put cameras in the dressing rooms by that point with how handsy Kyle Garrick always was with you.

"Can't wait until we get on set to try and undo me?" you ask breathlessly.

"Doll, I'll undo you right here and then again on set if you asked me to," he mumbles into your skin.

A quiet squeak interrupts your moment and the ambiance of the room shifts when the door to Kyle's dressing room opens. His hands grow stiff against your spine as you look over your shoulder at the figure in the doorway. You smell her perfume before you recognize her. Something drowning and floral, like a mall department store. It burns your nose, yet you're too distracted by the slack-mouth surprise etched onto the features of the new blood's face.

It's cute; her confusion. How her eyes flicker over your bare back and Kyle's hands pressed against your skin like he's cradling the only thing he cares for in the world. The dots just can't quite connect in her mind as to why he hasn't completely fallen for her yet, as if the only way she knows how to lure men is by butchering their neck with discolored marks. She can't comprehend why he'd rather have you in his lap than her.

Kyle draws a shocked groan from you when his teeth nip at your shoulder, and your eyes have no choice but to fall away from the woman in the doorway as he pulls you closer to him. His chin gently rests on your shoulder as he stares at the model, hands moving to rest on your hips.

"Need somethin?" he asks, bored.

There is very little you wouldn't have given to see the look on her face, but the small huff followed by the door slamming shut is good enough. Small giggles rattle your body as you lean back to get a better look at Kyle, as if your body would throw a fit if he wasn't within your sight. There's an inexplicable relief that floods his face as he looks up at you, and he mirrors your smile.

"What?" he defends. "Only asked her if she needed somethin."

"I think you broke her heart," you patronize.

"She'll live," he mumbles, lips falling against the crook of your neck again. "Your heart is the only one I care about, anyway."

[surielstea]

Schools Out!

Based on this request.

Pairing: Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary: Azriel and reader are in charge of picking Nyx up from school, but Az doesn’t like the way the teacher looks at his mate.

Warnings: innuendo of having kids

1.5k words

The final bell rang and children flooded from the brightly painted doors with wide grins on their faces as they lugged on their backpacks.

I stood beside a looming Azriel with a bright smile on my face as I waited for Nyx to exit the classroom. Feyre and Rhys had an emergency shipment at the art studio they needed to tend to and I was quick to jump at the opportunity to pick the young boy up from class.

Azriel— who has slowly become my personal shadow, goes wherever I go, so I wasn't surprised when he grabbed my wrist and led me to the front door without so much as a word.

A head of blue-black hair comes bounding out of the classroom. His sky-blue backpack hangs halfway off his shoulders as he talks to his teacher, looking up at the male as he clung to his hand.

Kids quickly found their parents but Nyx seemed too intrigued with his teacher to notice Azriel or I waiting.

People stared, perhaps it was Azriel's shadows swishing around us protectively or his large black wings, not many knew of the Illyrians and only about their reputations, I didn't blame them for staring, I wouldn't want the Illyrians near my kid's school either— but none of their eyes were on him, but rather on me.

Azriel's scarred hand snaked around my waist protectively and I smiled at the sentiment, my hand coming to his in an act to soothe him.

Nyx's eyes snag on us and his expression brightens. "Auntie! Uncle Az!" He rushes towards us, practically flying into my arms with a flap of his growing wings. "What are you doing here?" The boy asks excitedly. "Your parents are busy so we're here to pick you up," Azriel says, while I adjust him in my arms. "And, we might stop at the ice cream shop on our way home," I add, eyes flicking to Azriel with a mischievous grin, pinching my bottom lip between my teeth as Nyx's pupils practically morph into hearts.

"I'm sorry to interrupt," An unfamiliar voice sounds and my head whips up to see a tall male with a polite smile and finger-paint stains on his grey button-up. "Mr. Lockwood!" Nyx exclaims as if he hadn't just been with the teacher. "Hi Nyx," The male smiles at the boy, then looks back to me. "Nyx talks highly of you," A smirk curves his lips as his eyes linger all over me. Azriel's arm tightens protectively around me. "The both of you." The blonde corrects and I scoff a laugh, waving him off. "He does the same for you." I smile at him, setting Nyx down on his feet, his hand going into mine. "Always going on about Mr. Lockwood, you seem to make his day." I muse and Azriel's hand leaves my waist in order to pick a wanting Nyx up. "Please, call me Ezra." He presses a hand to his chest humbly and my brows raise a fraction.

I can practically feel Azriel tense beside me at the rushed familiarity. I bring my hand up to his bicep reassuringly as I continue my conversation with Nyx's favorite teacher.

"Right, Ezra," I smile politely at him, dragging my hand down Azriel's arm until reaching his hand where I intertwine our fingers. The teacher looks at our hands, at Azriel's scars I realize, watching as he swallows a lump in his throat. I bristle at the act, wondering what's so wrong with my mate's hands.

"Oh—" He catches the glare I'm subconsciously giving him and pulls a clipboard that was tucked beneath his arm.

"I just need you to sign here before you leave since you're not one of Nyx's biological parents." He holds the paper towards me. I skim through the fine details, the form essentially saying that Nyx's parents had consented to Az and me taking their child home.

I spotted the blank section at the bottom that I had to sign. "I'm sorry, I don't have a pen." I pad my pockets but find them empty.

Mr. Lockwood reaches into his breast pocket and pulls out a red pen, but before I can take it, shadows appear before me, holding a blue pen. I looked to Mr. Lockwood who was staring down at the shadows anxiously, like the dark tendrils might eat him alive— and if my hand wasn't in Azriel's the spymaster might've let them.

I choose to take the blue pen, pulling it from the dark tendrils with a grateful smile and they happily whisk away, down towards the ground where they pooled at my heels. Mr. Lockwood puts his pen back in his breast pocket with a slight drag in his movements, as if in defeat. I sign the space with a big looping signature then hand the pen back to my mate. "Thanks, Az," I hum, he simply nods and takes it from my hold. I turned back to the teacher who was staring at the both of us like he was beyond confused as to why we were together.

It was no secret Azriel and I were pure opposites. One could tell just by looking at my pink gowns and white skirts compared to his black leathers— but it went deeper than just our clothes. I was typically the center of attention when it came to social events while Azriel preferred to observe me. I was always talking his ear off while he just nodded and chimed in every now and again. So when we met strangers it was always a shock to them when they found out we were mates.

"All done here?" I tilt my head, knocking the blonde from his stupor. "Uh— yes." He tucks the clipboard back under his arm. "Perfect," I take Nyx's backpack and sling it over my shoulder. "We'll be seeing you." I smile while Azriel pulls me away. "Bye, Mr. Lockwood!" Nyx waves with a bright smile from over Azriel's shoulder.

——

The walk to the Ice Cream parlor was brief, since Nyx's school was located in the Rainbow everything was only a short distance away, still, the entire way there Nyx raved on about his teacher. Much to Azriel's dismay.

"—And Mr. Lockwood gives us a cool sticker every time we get something right!" Nyx exclaims, skipping slightly as he tugs on my hand. "Would you rather have a sticker or ice cream?" Azriel says and I toss the jealous male a knowing glare. "Oh ice cream for sure," Nyx licks his lips excitedly. "That's what I thought." Azriel mumbles and I playfully smack his shoulder with my freehand.

"Can I please get a chocolate cone, Auntie?" Nyx asks, ignoring his snarky uncle. A smile pulls at my lips. "I don't see why not?" I hum and a grin showing all his teeth blessed his expression. "Maybe I'll get one too." I wink at the boy as we reach the shop, Azriel opening the door for the both of us. The worker behind the counter smiles at us in a greeting and I return it.

"What flavor are you gonna get?" I ask the kindergartner. "I can't see," He says, standing on his tiptoes and attempting to peer over the edge of the glass. Without a word, Azriel swoops him up and props the boy on his hip.

"Ooh, that one," Nyx exclaims, pointing to a brightly colored tub. "I remember I had that kind with Uncle Cass before and it was so good," Nyx licked his lips as if he could still taste it. I shake my head with a growing grin and approach the counter, the silver-haired fae smiling softly at the three of us.

I order for all of us, making sure to get a chocolate cone for Nyx, per his request. The woman repeats my order back and I nod. "Your total is nine gold marks," She hums, but before I can shuffle through my coin purse Azriel puts down the money due and I look up at him. I slip my hand into his in gratitude as the cashier scoops the ice cream into the cones.

When she hands Nyx the chocolate cone he nearly runs laps around the shop, but in fear of his cold treat melting he instead licks up the side, the scoop seeming as big as his head. "You three are such a lovely family," The female smiles as she hands me my cone. "Oh, he's not—" I begin. "Thank you." Azriel interrupts before tugging my hand towards the door. "Have a nice day!" I wave to the worker. "You too!" She mirrors my expression. "Bye!" Nyx waves carefully, cautious of his ice cream toppling over. She waves back before the door to the parlor opens and we exit, the bell chiming behind us as Azriel guides me down the sidewalk, Nyx still in his arms.

I wrapped my arms around his free one, suddenly overwhelmed by some type of baby-fever. Watching the feared shadow singer be so innocent with Nyx made me want a child of our own. How I'd kill for a kid that looks just like him, hoping our child has his eyes— or better yet, his smile. I push the thoughts away as a pink tinge comes to my cheeks, I lean against his bicep as we walk side by side, enjoying our ice cream on the hot day.

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[95rkives]

wishes and kisses⼂m.yg

summary: sneaking into his studio with burnt homemade cupcakes to celebrate his birthday.

pairings: producer!yoongi x fem!reader

genre/warnings: established relationship, lover boy yoongi xx, light suggestive themes, fluff

wc: 0.8k

a/n: i’m back to celebrate the man who was send as an apology to all women!! happy birthday, please send signs you’re alive xxxx, everyone.

You hastily left 15 minutes before the clock struck 12.

You didn’t bother cleaning up the kitchen. You didn’t bother putting the milk back in the fridge. You didn’t bother catching a coat in your haste. You didn’t even bother locking the door behind you.

You silently hoped against the odds that he wouldn't miraculously decide to come home early this evening as you hurried through the vibrant streets of Seoul. Clutching a beautifully wrapped bag containing cupcakes that you weren't particularly proud of, you were driven by the closure of patisseries and bakeries. The urgency to surprise him tonight made waiting until morning seem too delayed.

Baking was among your cherished pastimes, so when the cupcakes emerged burnt, you nearly spiraled into a meltdown. The haste during a post-work shower led to this mishap, revealing that multitasking wasn’t your forte.

Stumbling through HYBE’s building, you were greeted by the familiar face of a guard whose shift ended at midnight. Relief flooded over you as your eyes met, signaling that you still had time.

Huffing and puffing from all the running, you allowed yourself leisurely steps toward the studio. Along the quiet hallway, you casually checked a wall clock. 3 minutes to 12.

Ruffling your bangs into place, you wiped away the beads of sweat trickling down your temples. Sucking in the inside of your cheeks, you opened the door to unveil the obsidian shade of your boyfriend's mullet, complemented by matching black headphones.

You bite back a smile as he remained unaware of your presence. Leaning back against the door, it softly clicked shut.

You observed him reclining in his studio chair, enveloped by its plush leather cushions. As he adjusted the headpiece around his neck, you took it as your cue to speak.

"Happy birthday," He flinched, and you grinned. His head snapped back so swiftly that the chair squeaked, spinning him around with the force of his movement.

"Baby," the pet name slipped past his lips in a sigh of relief, and you could physically see his muscles relax. All the days tension seemed to melt away from his features, flowing out the window like a gentle breeze.

"That’s tomorrow," his head tipped back as you stand above him, inviting the chaste kiss you bestow upon his lips.

"Is it?" you teased as he pulled you onto his lap, the small white bag finding its place on yours. He confirmed your words with a glance at the clock, earning you his lazy, gummy smile.

"Oh," he breathed cheekily. Bowing his head, his forehead nestled on the curve of your shoulder, his arm gracefully snaking around your waist.

It took him a heartbeat for his gaze to zero in on the bag resting on your lap, and his free hand sought out your fingers entwined around the silk straps. "What d’you get me?" he rasped in a soft murmur, a gentle reminder of the surprise that had turned your kitchen upside down.

You leaned your cheek on his head, glancing down as you skillfully undid the bow, revealing two cupcakes—one adorned with white frosting, the other with a pastel shade of blue.

"You baked these?" he grinned, lifting his head to catch a glimpse of your profile. He noticed the way your teeth gently sank into your bottom lip as you smiled sheepishly, so subtle that one might miss it, but not him.

“Yeah.”

“Yeah?”

"M’yeah," you giggled softly as his lips brushed the back of your ear, his hand trailing up your thigh, squeezing gently as it settled. Each kiss he bestowed was accompanied by the warmth of his breath, laughter dancing against your skin.

"Feed me some?" he murmured against your skin, his lips delicately gliding over your cheek. All you could sense was his suppressed smile as he neared the corner of your mouth, prompting you to tilt your head to the side, evading him.

"No," you teased.

"What..." he sulked, his hands squeezing your waist and thigh simultaneously, pressing you closer against his chest. He watched as your lips twitched in a grin mirroring his own, slowly forming as his forehead came to rest against your temple.

"Burnt them," you said, scrunching up your nose, and he had to bite his bottom lip to restrain from biting yours.

“No way.” he mocked.

“Way.” you whine.

"Okay," he laughed breathily, reaching into the box to scoop a finger off the blue frosting. "Let's taste test." You observed as the finger neared your mouth, only for him to smear it on your lips, earning an unamused groan from you.

"Why." you cried out in mock exasperation, your words muffled and drawn out into a whine as his fingers squished your cheeks, molding a pout he pulled into a messy kiss. Amid laughter, groans, and squirming against his mouth, he hummed, "Delish," smirking once he pulled away, rolling his lips into a laugh when you smacked his hand away.

[dumbsoftheart]

pas de deux

pairing: ballerina!reader x university!coriolanus snow

tags: 18+, mdni. dub-con, semi-public sex, oral sex (fem receiving), creampie, vaginal sex, dirty talk, power play, manipulation

summary: corio is tasked with writing an exposé on his university’s prized ballet student for the school’s newsletter.

notes: self indulging on my perfectionism being ruined for coryo’s self-pleasure!

word count: 4.9k

౨ׅৎ

coriolanus hated this assignment with the same fervour and passion he hated writing for his school’s publication. the only reason he’d even applied for the position was because he knew of the ways it would put him on the scene- articles and reviews with his name plastered over them were unavoidable to anyone who had half a brain to engage in thoughtful composition. he enjoyed writing critical pieces on political discourse or literature, anything that challenged him to peel back the layers of society and dissect it, persuade others to align with his mode of thinking, so the mere thought of his byline etched onto an article about ballet- of all things- made him want to curl up and die. he tried oh so desperately to pass on the assignment to one of his female partners, and even tried his hand at requesting his supervisor for a new assignment entirely, but he was coldly dismissed and cast away to the hallowed halls of the university's dance studio. he didn't notice how frustrated he’d actually felt until he flinched behind the sound of the studio door slamming behind him, clashing uglily with the buzzing noise of music that flooded his eardrums. it was unnecessarily loud, but he knew you could hear him enter. his jaw clenched the more you ignored his presence. 

instead, you focused on the strains of music you’d become uncomfortably accustomed to. the melodic rhythm of the cantilena you choreographed to consumed your body in a symphony of music. each note was dictated thoughtfully with the graceful movements you now begrudgingly danced for the stranger, weaving a story that transcended words, one only understood through the language of dance. as you traversed the space, your movements harmonised seamlessly with the refined tune, a testament to the years of dedication and passion you poured into this art form. you grew frustrated at the way his presence clashed discordantly against the elegance of your dancing and disrupted the harmony of the room. you watched in the corner of your eye how he marched his way to the centre of the room, lingering only a few steps behind you as you danced. you caught him clear his throat one, two, then three times. it grated against your patience, forcing you to stop dancing abruptly and march past him with the same conviction as he did to shut off the music, a huff escaping your lips at the sudden quiet as you stared expectantly at the tall boy before you. you watched his fists clench and then flex before he turned to face you, his pearly blond hair falling ever so slightly out of place from the speed at which he’d turned on his heel. 

"can i help you?" the words slipped from your lips, delivered with a flatness that barely concealed the tinge of annoyance behind it. your hand found its place resting on your hip, a subtle gesture reinforcing your composed stance, determined to maintain an air of indifference. 

“coriolanus snow. i’ve been assigned to write a review on you and your dancing for the university newsletter,” his introduction sounded pompous, as though he assumed you already knew of his identity. of course, you knew the name very well- his reputation preceded him. you couldnt deny that you too had once or twice been privy to the occasional swooning over the quite popular boy, but you found that now as he stood in front of you, tall and beautiful as he was, you felt a growing discontent for the man and his obnoxiously bright hair. yet, you clung fiercely to the facade of ignorance, a guise of disinterest veiling the curiosity that lingered beneath the surface. you held your head high, refusing to grant him the satisfaction of acknowledging his perceived importance in your realm of artistry. 

you pretended to think before a moment, before turning back to the speaker and switching the sound back on, gesturing for him to sit. you rolled your eyes at his request to turn the volume down. despite you hating everything that had to do with this review, you were aware of the potential impact this coverage had on your burgeoning career. you acquiesced, lowering the volume to appease his demand, a concession made not out of respect for the boy but rather with your future in mind. you knew the power coriolanus held with his words, as much as you hated it, and you knew you couldn't risk jeopardising your future at the sake of a little attitude. 

so, with an inward sigh and a curt nod, you allowed him to observe. you positioned yourself within the room as you waited to pick up on the rhythm of the music where you left off, quickly finding your place among the complexities of the song in a manner that seemed impossible had it not been for your tireless work and memorization of every single note and harmony of the song. 

as snow observed your movements, he jotted down comments in a small leatherbound notebook, his pen scrawling his disdain. "lacks depth," he muttered under his breath, pausing to look up pensively at your figure.

the comment caught you so off guard it took every bit of strength in you to not fall with the abruptness at which you stopped. lacks depth? what the hell would he know? you felt rage burn inside your chest, only fueled by the way he stared at you as if he had said nothing wrong. 

“what about my dance lacks depth, snow?” the question hung in the air, and you watched his adams apple bob up and down through the mirror as he swallowed, glancing briefly at his notes before looking back up at you. 

"the dance is fine, quite beautiful, i might say, but your movements lack the emotional vibrancy expected from a performance of this calibre," he responded, "there's an absence of connection, it feels superficial and fails to convey the intended depth of expression."

he spoke with a measured confidence, and you scrunched your brows at his words. you didnt expect him to know the first thing about ballet, and you still stood by that sentiment, but part of you wondered if he was speaking truthfully- a consequence of the sensitivity you harbour in relation to your artistry. dance was everything, and while ballet trained you to accustom yourself to harsh criticism, you always held those criticisms to your heart, and it pushed you to always do better than you had before. 

despite this, your shoulders never slumped, nor did you show any physical acknowledgement to his critique, only moving to turn your gaze from his cobalt eyes in the mirror to look him in them truly, strutting your way back to the speaker and restarting the song, determined to prove him wrong. 

“you restart the song when you feel i’m ‘lacking depth’, so i can know whether or not to call bullshit.” 

the two of you went at it for a while. he only gave you a few seconds at first before he continuously restarted the song, but you danced for him nonetheless. over, and over again. when you thought you’d finally caught him, he’d restart the song a few seconds later, and it took everything in you to not scream in frustration at the top of your lungs. you wanted to strangle him, in truth, especially when you caught a glance at his smirk the 12th time he’d restarted the music. 

it was nearly midnight by the time he’d given you some respite, and you made no effort to be hospitable as you collected your things and stormed out the door without a word. you pretended to ignore the scribbles on his notebook as you rushed passed him, unable to make sense of the haphazard writing. you hated him. the way he seemed to try seize control of your creative space and your studio made you go mad. additionally, you were convinced he was only trying to get under your skin, and you hated that it worked- even if you refused to show it (or more appropriately, tried not to show it, because coriolanus reveled in the fact that he did, in fact, get under your skin). 

coriolanus, on the other hand, walked out of the studio feeling quite prideful. he adored the effect he had on you: how despite his ignorance on your mastered art, he absorbed the control in the room. he adored seeing you struggle to keep up to his standards, watching your face twist with effort as you danced over and over again, all for him. watching the muscles of your shoulders and legs flex, the arches of your back and neck, the way you exposed yourself to him repeatedly- it festered a strange desire in him to tear you apart. you were so meticulous with how you danced that it made you look fragile. with every twist and turn of your body coriolanus felt his breath catch in his throat as if he were afraid if you moved slightly too much, you would shatter. only, he wanted to be the one to break you: tear away that meticulousness and precision built into you and mould it in a way that was perfectly suited for him. he wanted to dismantle that untouchable image you carried, strip you away of your elegance and create a dependence that would tether you to him alone. it made him care about your performance more than he wanted to admit. not because he cared for you, per se, and your success, but because he’d developed a carnal urge to shape you into perfection solely for his own satisfaction. knowing that onstage, your dance was now catered just for him, to his own liking? the thought made coriolanus’s pants grow tight with lust. 

the week progressed following the same routine: he would sit and watch you overwork yourself at his beck and call until your eyes filled with tears of anger and your body would give out and he’d leave you panting on the dance room floor, killing yourself until you got it just right. the boy was acutely aware of the mental struggles that accompanied ballet- the pursuit of perfection, the strive for excellence, the intensity of the competition and the pressure to excel. he knew how hardly you critiqued yourself and used it to his advantage; knowing if he played his cards right, soon enough he’d have you wrapped around his finger, begging him for that validation you needed to keep going. 

your performance was on saturday, and the way you worked yourself over the dreadful symphony of music had you lacking sleep. you couldn’t stop- even after you and coriolanus parted ways. you found yourself practising in your dorm room, counting steps on your way to class- you knew deep down that coriolanus’s article really meant nothing, as the man knew nothing about what he asked of you, and your success wasn’t at all tied to his review; but you were unable to stop. a voice nagged at you that it did matter. that somehow his influence could ruin you and everything you’d worked for. you knew how badly he was getting to you when the two of you crossed paths on your way to class. 

he took in the sight of you: your hair done perfectly, not a single hair misplaced, your pink tights and leotard, the pink cover-up skirt you adorned neatly wrapped around your waist with a perfect bow. he took in your lips, swollen and red from the anxious biting you’d fallen into the habit of doing again, the way you messily tried to cover up your dark under eyes with concealer and draw attention away from it with haphazards amount of blush. in passing, you’d simply given him a nod, but he was quick to grab you, looping his finger under your chin and forcing you to stare into those piercing cobalt eyes of his as he studied you. 

“you should wear white instead. pink washes you out,” he mumbled to you before turning away, his tall figure disappearing into one of the lecture halls behind you. had it been a few days prior, you would’ve found it in you to bite back. only now, you bit at your manicured fingernails as you dragged your fingers across the silky white pointe shoes in your favourite dancewear boutique, followed by the white leotard and tights you brought home with you that night.

 

౨ׅৎ

“i need a break,” you sighed. it was the night before your performance, and only now did coryo have the decency to step back for a moment in his unrelenting pursuit of perfecting you. he nodded, shutting off the music as he watched you saunter towards your dance bag, downing half the contents of your water bottle with short pants. he stood to meet you, making his way behind you and resting his slender fingers on your tense shoulders. 

“whats bothering you, bunny?” the pet name sent a small shiver down your spine, and coriolanus threw his head back slightly at the feeling of you shudder, gathering all his strength to contain himself. you turned to face him, and he felt his dick harden at the vulnerability in your eyes. the fire that once burned behind them was fizzling, and he could tell. your mouth was parted as you searched for the right thing to say, but the words caught in your throat. 

“is it the dance?” he pressed, his face now dangerously close to yours, and you croaked out a small yes as his hand made its way up to your hair, his thumb stroking it gently, “you know it’s perfect, darling, you and i have been making it perfect all week long, no? show me which part is bothering you.” 

your head spun as he spoke to you- his fingers stroking your hair, the way his voice was now all of a sudden so soft; contrary to the stern way he’d spoken to you all week. but what really dizzied you was the sudden validation he’d given you. the casual way he threw it at you; as if it was what was known all along, as if you were crazy to think otherwise. 

you stumbled back towards the centre of the room, slowly positioning yourself as you waited for his go-ahead, form snapping into movement as soon as the music filled your ears. you watched in the mirror as coriolanus paced behind you, his chin in his hand as he watched you and pondered. your eyes closed with focus, moving with such ease that it felt second nature to you. then, the music seized, and you froze in place as you raised your head to look up at the man now in front of you. 

“you’re too tense,” he murmured, moving to press his hands into the soft skin of your shoulders, massaging the strained muscle gently. it did nothing at getting you to relax. inside, you were fuming as you replayed the past week in your head. you’d worked yourself dry all for the approval of a man whose opinion you couldn’t care less about. you let your guard down for a sliver of a moment and he used it to get inside your head. you hated him with every fibre in your being, and his breathing down your neck only fueled the fire burning inside of you. 

“get off of me.”

“just relax.” the way he whispered it was short of anything kind, spat at you with annoyance as he tightened his grip on you.

“i said get off!” it was the loudest you’d spoken all day. it was barely a shout, but it was enough for the man to recoil from behind you. you breathed shakily, hands trembling at your side. when you turned to face him, you nearly flinched at the sight of him. his usually perfectly combed back hair was now a mess, curls fallen out of place as he ran his hand through the golden strands harshly. you both stared at each other for what seemed to be an eternity, panting heavily, waiting for the other to say or do anything to loosen the tension that filled the studio air. 

he looked down at the floor for a second, tonguing his cheek with a smile before surging forward, crashing his chapped lips into your plump, soft ones with a groan. you tried to push him away, but his grip on your face was too strong- and you couldn’t ignore the way your legs turned to jelly from the way he kissed you with an undying hunger. one hand made its way down your waist as he moved you backwards into the large studio mirror, your head thumping painfully against the glass, pain mixing with pleasure as coryo attacked your lips and dragged his hands all over your body, savouring the warmth of your skin through the fabric of your garments. 

“so good for me,” he groaned against your neck, the hot breath of his words sending shivers straight down to your core, “so perfect.. so pliable.. all for me. isnt that right, princess?” 

it was truly embarrassing, the way his words made you moan softly and rub your thighs together with want. embarrassing how compliant you’d become for him, how eager you were to please him. he took notice of the pathetic state you were in, watching with glossy and swollen lips how your legs trembled and your hips stuttered in a desperate attempt to gain friction against your growing heat. 

“look at that, so fucking precious,” he continued to watch you struggle, laughing softly to himself before snaking his hand between your thighs, cupping your cunt and slowly encouraging you to rock your hips back and forth. you whined at the contact, relief and pleasure swarming you as you ground yourself into the palm of his hand, gripping tightly onto the curls at the back of his head for leverage. lost in bliss, you barely noticed when the man made his way down to his knees, lip bitten so hard you swore you could smell the metallic scent of blood peer through your senses as he toyed his fingers across your clothed cunt. you moved to remove your small skirt, untying the meticulous bow around your waist and tossing it to the side. when your hand reached to remove your leotard, coriolanus removed his hand with a small chuckle. 

“what do you think you’re doing?” he tutted, and you whined at the sight of him below you, willing and able to keep pleasuring you but withholding that power. you scrunched your brows together with confusion, and coriolanus thought you’d never looked so beautiful: face flushed with heat, writhing above him while your hips urged for his fingers to touch you again. too lost in the pleasure that lingered, head thrashing from side to side with pleads to keep going- he wanted to ruin you. 

“good girls wait and do what they’re told. are you gonna be a good girl for me?” he chuckled at the way you shook your head aggressively, savouring your small moans as he returned his hand to where you wanted it most. a loud gasp escaped your lips when he ripped your tights viciously, the soft torn fabric now giving him better access to the skin of your thighs. he splayed his hands over them, massaging your muscles and soft tissue before pulling your leotard to the side and diving his tongue into the wetness of your folds. 

he pulled back with a moan, gasping as he peered down at the mixture of his spit and your slick connecting your cunt to his chin, and he looked up at you like you were a god, sticky and wet from the most trivial of touches. 

“you’re so wet for me, princess- such a good girl. you’re so good for me,” you couldn't get a word out before he took a long swipe with the flat of his tongue, lapping messily and so, so loudly- chasing the taste of you. he loved teasing you with his mouth. he thought about it that day, unashamed as he jerked his cock into nothingness when he caught sight of you on campus earlier that day, dressed all in white- just for him. the small gesture was enough confirmation to him that he’d won at the game you two were playing, that you let him break you into submission and you were now his to claim. the thought of taking ownership of you by reducing you to nothingness with his tongue alone had him cumming onto his stomach with a loud, broken cry. now, he had you right where he wanted- and he wasn’t going to let that pass just yet. 

he relished every sound and movement you made when he flicked his tongue up and down your lips, relished the tears that fell when he slowly circled it around your swollen clit, rejoiced in the way you gripped his curls tighter when he tongued your hole, gazing up at your already fucked out faced with pure lust and admiration when you came undone and released yourself into his mouth. he continued to lap and suck every moan and whine out of you until you cried with overstimulation. he stood up, licking his lips and stared down at you like a predator who’d hunted its prey. 

“you did so good for me, bunny,” he mewled, kissing your neck softly as you came down from your high. you had started to gain back your senses, and a wave of humiliation washed over you. the man you claimed to hate had just given you the best orgasm of your life, and suddenly you could no longer find it in you to hate him again. every fibre in your body ached when he praised you, called you good and cooed in your ear as you regained your strength. you continued to cry, no longer out of pleasure but in self-disappointment. you felt the urge to scream and lash out at him for robbing you of your senses, for reducing you to a state where the tiniest shred of approval clouded every bit your perspectives until you couldn’t figure out left from right. he continued to coo in your ear as you sobbed, but your eyes widened with fear when you heard the small sound of a zipper and looked down to see his cock in his hands, pumping slowly as he made his way into you. 

he shushed every one of your protests, his lips pressed tight against your collarbone as you tried to push away from him when his tip made contact with your hole, “be good, bunny, be good for me,” he chanted into your skin and your body broke down into more sobs as you willingly let him push into you. alarms were blaring in your head for you to stop giving into him, but your body was unrelenting and begging with want- and so all you did was cry as he thrust slowly into you, small moans of praise nonsensically falling from his lips as your cunt struggled to take all of him in. 

the way he mumbled his sweet words into your neck and the slow stretch of his cock prying you open had your brain short-circuiting, the sweet tone of his voice once again making you lose all sense of what was unfolding before you. you winced as he tried to thrust his length deeper into you. 

coriolanus didn’t like that. he took the sounds of complaint as direct disobedience. he wanted to hear nothing but your begging- he wanted you to thank him for letting you have his cock, and hear nothing but your loud moans and pathetic mewls as he fucked you. he grabbed at your bun, yanking your head back with such force that the once perfectly smoothed back hair came undone painfully, strands falling to your face and wisping at your shoulders. 

“does it hurt?” he asked, and for a moment you thought he was trying to take you with care, but when you nodded and his grip tightened on your hair, you knew you were oh so wrong, “i thought i told you to be a good, fucking. girl.” 

he thrusted into you harshly with each word and you cried out in pain, his cock stretching you out far beyond what you could handle, overstimulation making your knees buckle and tears fall from your eyes again. 

“thats it, baby. take it, be a good girl and take my cock.” 

your fingers dug into his back and coriolanus let out a loud, lewd moan, unable to peel his eyes away from the sight of his cock thrusting without preamble into the slick mess of your cunt. he threw his head back as you moaned through your cries, and thrusted even harder when you wrapped a leg around him to let him fuck you even deeper. 

he moved to rip off the top of your leotard, licking his lips hungrily as he watched your tits fall and bounce in tandem with his thrusts. he dove his head down, latching his lips onto your hardened nipple and sucking harshly, nipping and biting the soft flesh while his hand pinched and flicked at the other one. 

you were incoherent. your stop’s had turned into more’s and your sobs turned into that of pure desire. you threw your head to the side and gasped at the spectacle the two of you were making of yourselves in the middle of the dance studio. the mirror you were pressed up against had begun to fog up along the silhouette of your body pressed up against it, the cool glass dripping condensation onto your back and through your ruined clothes as coryo fucked you into oblivion. he looked right at you now, his fingers making their way to lace into yours as he pressed you even closer to him, your arms now bound against the coolness of the mirror. 

“fuck, princess, you’re so fucking tight. so tight for me, yeah? gonna make this pussy mine,” your head spun with his words and the constant pumping of his cock, unable to contain the obscene sounds you let out. you were so close, and the way you tightened around him as you chased your release almost had him cumming prematurely. 

“you gonna let me make you mine, huh bunny?”

“fuck, yes!” 

“s’at right? gonna let me claim you? such a good girl.” 

you moved your hips against his with no rhythm, simply in pursuit of the orgasm that coiled in the pit of your stomach. you kept your eyes on his, your mouth open with pants as you urged him to keep going. he hiked one hand behind the knee you had wrapped around him, the other one pulling you up so you were off the ground, letting him fuck you in a way that hit all the right spots in all the right places, and you just about lost it right there. 

he smiled, “you like that?”

“uh-huh..”

“you want me to keep going?”

“please- please dont stop, coryo, please!” 

his cries got louder, moans twisting up into a slightly higher octave, his face scrunched with pleasure as your cunt clenched around him with each of his words. 

“gonna fill you up with my cum, baby. is that what you want? for me to breed you?” he babbled, voice trembling, “gonna fuck you full of cum ‘n make you mine. no one else can have you.” his voice got weaker as his hips pivoted upwards to thrust even deeper. he was in complete in control of you; his elbows hooked beneath your knees and opening a new gateway to your soul.

“naughty fucking girl, huh? ‘s alright, good girls get to be naughty sometimes..”

“i’m gonna cum,” you whined pathetically, rambling over and over as it was the only thing you could think of. you were so close, and each word he groaned at you brought you infinitely closer. 

“you wanna cum?”

“i want- i want it so bad.”

“s’at right?”

“please, coryo- god, please! ‘m gonna be good for you. so good for you, daddy—”

your words collapsed into meaningless cries and shattered sentences— fuckyesyesyes— and cumonmycockbaby— as you worked each other towards release. you pulled him deeper to your center, tightening around him as the coil in your stomach finally burst and you saw white. you both came with a loud moan, yours no doubt shattering through the walls of the confined space, and coriolanus released his load into you with a long, droned out fuuuuuck as he slowly pumped his cum into you, mesmerised by the way it mixed and swirled with the mess of your own release. you whined at the overstimulation, body still jerking from the aftershocks of your orgasm, but coriolanus only felt himself grow harder. 

“coryo, i cant..”

he snapped up at you, gaze softening as he took in your tear stained and fucked out face. he took your face in one hand, squeezing your jaw tightly and admiring the slight cross-eyed look you had on and the dribble of spit falling from your perfect lips. he cocked his head to the side, smiling coyly. 

“oh, bunny, you don’t have a choice..” 

౨ׅৎ

@dumbsoftheart, 2023

[blackhairandbangs]

That's What Friends Are For

Seo Changbin x Reader

info/masterlist

word count: 2.8K

genre: smut smut!! but its a little fluffy in the beginning

summary: you head to the studio to return bestfriend!changbin's hoodie and end up talking a bit about your friendship

warnings: smut! minors DNI, oral (f recieving), unprotected sex (don’t do it!) maybe a little choking? Reader is called “baby”, “baby girl”, and “bunny” Let me know if I’m missing anything!

a/n: this is currently unedited... i was too excited to post this and haven't given it a second look-through yet.

reblogs are MORE than appreciated &lt;3

You and Changbin had been friends for years. Chan had introduced the two of you just pre-debut and you both had been inseparable since. From late nights over at his dorm, to early mornings at the studio, he just seemed to get you in a way you others didn’t.

Him and Chan were spending another evening in the studio, finishing up songs for the next comeback. The booming of bass flooded out as you opened the soundproof door. 

“Hey,” you started to speak, giving the boy a small wave. “Hope I’m not interrupting, Binnie, you left your hoodie at my place last night and I know how cold the studio can get so I figured I would come run it by.” You saw the blush fall on his cheeks as you walked over to where he sat at the mixing table to hand him his tan hoodie. Truthfully, you had planned on stealing the hoodie, wearing it around the house, but you two were just friends and that didn’t seem like the appropriate “friend” action. A good friend would wash the hoodie, fold it up nice, and bring it to the owner’s place of employment, right?

“Oh my goodness, you are so thoughtful, thank you!” He takes the hoodie, slipping it over his broad shoulders. “Come have a seat! I was just finishing up this new mix before Chan gets back.” You nod your head, happy to have a chance to hang out with your friend. You loved watching him work. Something about the way his eyebrows furrowed when he was deep in thought, the way his hair would get ruffled underneath the booth headphones, the way he would bite his lip trying to get the audio effects just right, the way he… But all of the things you noticed couldn’t be anything more than platonic… You just loved to see your friend passionate about the things he enjoys and is good at. All friends love to see that!

“Do you want to hear a bit?” Changbin asks, snapping you out of your thoughts. You whip your head to look at him, taking the headphones he held out in his hands. 

You give him a sincere smile, “I would love to.”

He leans over the table, pressing a few buttons before leaning back in his chair to get a clear view of your reactions. You get engulfed by the sound, taping your hand on your leg as the beat carries. 

“Oh my God, Binnie, this is amazing!” You say, removing the headphones as the cut comes to an end. “My best friend has to be the most talented person in the world.”

Changbin gives a shy laugh at your praise. He is so grateful you enjoy his work, but the word “friend” hits him in his heart every time you say it. “I’m glad you like it,” He tries to hide his disappointment with a smile, just happy to have you here with him, even if it’s not in the way he wants.

“How has everything been going for you today?” he continues. You two saw each other the night before but were used to talking multiple times a day. However, his studio schedule left him with no free time to do so all day. 

“Oh you know, the usual,” You start. You look down at your lap, twiddling your thumbs a bit. “Just another failed date, I really need to get off these apps.” You give a small chuckle, hoping to move on from the topic. You had met a really nice guy through one of the many dating apps on your phone and had planned to meet for coffee earlier in the day. You waited at the shop for an hour before realizing he was not planning on showing up and went home where you threw yourself on the couch until you could muster the strength to get up and bring Changbin his hoodie. 

“I told you, you need to try meeting people in different ways!” He laughs. This was a conversation you two had often. You would constantly complain about all of your failed dating app dates. The dates you went on to clear your mind of the crush you had on your best friend. Your best friend would then suggest you meet people in person rather than on your phone. “Maybe you can find dates through hobbies, or maybe your friends?”

You give a small laugh before leaning closer to him. “You know, thats not a bad idea…have any friends I can date?” The question wasn’t serious, just a little joke to get a reaction out of him. You knew you didn’t want any of his friends, just him. 

Changbin laughs, scratching the back of his head. “Well, there’s me-” he starts before realizing what he was saying, “and Chan, of course.” His original comment was muffled and flew right over your head. “But, I don’t think you want to date Chan, hes practically married to that sound booth,” he says, gesturing to the open booth in front of the desk you two sat at. 

“Hmm… I don’t know, Chan is pretty cute…” You tease, avoiding eye contact with Changbin. What were you doing? Sure, Chan was good looking, but definitely not who you have been pining after. Actually, the guy you were into was sitting right next to you and you just told him you found his friend cute!

“Oh come on, I am not allowing you to date Chan,” Changbin says, playfully hitting your arm. 

“Ow!” you laugh, rubbing where he hit, even though it wasn’t even close to actually being in pain. “I’m only joking, Binnie.” You take the opportunity to lean your head on his shoulder, the contact making your ears hot. “Besides, I’d choose you over Chan any day.”

Changbin moves his shoulder so you pull your head up to look at him. He gives a small smirk, “Oh, really? Hm, well you know I’d have to think about that,” he says to tease you. He wasn’t sure where this confidence was coming from. Maybe it was the lack of sleep, but he was having a hard time keeping his feelings in tonight. He lets himself come back to the moment, remembering who you are. “You’re quite interesting, but our friendship will always come first,” he says, hoping you couldn't read the sadness in his eyes. 

“Right,” you speak quickly, looking away, leaning back to your chair. The space between you grew back to what it should have been. “And we are really good friends.”

“Yes we are, and I am so happy about it,” He gives a fake smile and places his hand on your knee. “You’re really special to me…” his voice trails of as he sees the blush growing across your face. He rolls his chair closer to you reaching his other hand out to gently cup your cheek. 

“I might have been teasing you earlier about Chan, but I mean it when I say you’re special to me. I..I like you, you know?” 

Your blush goes deeper, feeling his warm hand on your face. Sure, you two had spent many nights cuddles up watching a movie, but something about this contact felt different. It felt intimate. 

“Binnie, please don’t play with me like this…” You look down, not wanting to show the disappointment in your eyes. “You like me as a friend, right?

Changbin turns his head the other way, pulling himself away from you. “Yeah,” he nods, “As a friend, I promise. I’m just messing with you,” he says, trying to cover his tracks, hoping none of this is making you uncomfortable. “Friends do that, right?” He asks, turning his attention back to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder pulling you into almost a sort of side hug. 

You give a small laugh, “Yeah, totally! Friends can do a lot of things.”

He releases his arm from you, meeting your eyes. “And what kind of things can friends do?” 

You look down once again to hide the color of your cheeks, which you are almost certain are about as red as a tomato at this point. “Oh you know…” you trail off, trying to think of an answer. “Friends can cuddle, and…” you don’t allow yourself to finish the thought, feeling the tension sitting in the air. 

Changbin leans in, placing a small kiss on the top of your head, sending a shiver straight down your spine. “Well then, friend,” he says, placing an emphasis on that last word, “How about we cuddle for a bit? I could use a break from this song.” He pats his lap, motioning for you to come over. Without hesitation, you are straddling his lap, head resting in the crook of his neck. 

He smiles softly, feeling your warmth against him. “Good friends,” he sighs, reaching a hand to stroke your hair. “I’d say we make quite the comfortable pair.” 

None of this was feeling real to you, you had to bring yourself back to reality. You lift your head from his shoulder, “How much is left to finish on the song?”

He gives a small chuckle, feeling your breath on his neck. “Oh not much, actually. We’re almost done, just a few more lines,” he starts to rock you gently, feeling your hearts beat in sync.

“That’s good,” you reply, looking up and leaning close to him. “Binnie, just out of curiosity, is there anything else you think close friends could do?” You run a hand through his hair, loosing control of your brain. The words came out without a thought.

Changbin’s heart races slightly over the close proximity and your question. 

“Well, good friends can share secrets, and support each other…” he trails off feeling the warm breath of your lips above his. “But were just friends, remember”

You look him up and down, “Binnie, if we’re just friends, why can I practically feel your heart jumping out of your chest right now?” You let yourself be bold, knowing you need him in ways he will never understand. 

He swallows hard, unable to meet your eyes. “Friends…um friends…do that…we’re um…just really good…” He struggles to get the words out, reaching out to touch the side of your face. 

You decide to just go for it, letting all rationality leave your brain. Your hand comes up to grab his chin, turning his head to look at you. “Now, as a good friend, does this do anything to you?” you ask, practically feeling the heat of his cheeks radiating into the air. 

His breath hitches, your faces inches apart. “Well, um… a good friend might be curious about the feelings of another close friend.”

“I think this good friend has maybe had strong feelings for the other good friend, bit was too scared to ruin anything.” His heart races even more, wanting nothing more than to say the words he has been waiting to say for years now. 

“A good friend might have those sorts of feelings too…maybe..” You cut him off before he could finish, finally bringing your faces together, letting yourself lean into the kiss, your arms snaking around his neck. 

Changbin moans softly into the kiss, gripping your hips as he  leans back in the chair, allowing himself to be pinned against it by your weight. He pulls away momentarily, looking you up and down.

“Your lips, feel so soft against mine, I’ve always wanted to taste them.” A shiver sends through your body, feeling his grip tighten on your hips, leaning in to take more of his lips in yours. 

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this.”

Changbin’s tongue sweeps against your lips gently, begging for entry as he deepens the kiss. He is completely lost in the moment, his mind blanketed by the desire to have all of you.

Your lips part, allowing him access inside. A small moan leaves your throat as the kiss intensifies. You pull away for air, your mouth still lingering close.

“Baby, when was Chan supposed to get back?”

“Not for another hour at least,” he starts, peppering your neck with kisses as you through your head back. “He had some things to take care of.”

“Perfect,” you lean in to take him into another string kiss, this one feeling different. It lingered with lust and need. 

He pulls your hips closer, his tongue gliding against yours. A small whimper escapes the back of his throat as his hands travel up and down your back. You grind softly against him, feeling his hard grow underneath you.

“Fuck, yes…” he moans, kissing every part of your lips, down to your jawline and neck. He growls low in his throat as his hand moves down to grab your ass. “Tell me what you want, baby”

You moan, continuing to grind your hips, wanting to feel more. “Anything please, I just want you.” 

He takes this as an invite to stand up. You allow your legs to wrap around his waist as he carries you to lean against the back wall. 

“Binnie,” you whimper, feeling the contact of your head against the wall. 

“Fuck, that name,” Changbin breaths out, his hands exploring every inch of you. He tugs on the hem of your shirt and you lift your arms, allowing him to take it off in one swift motion. 

“You are so fucking sexy like this. All needy for me,” He starts to speak, lowering himself to his knees as his hands grip your thighs.

“Binnie, please” you moan out, desperate for his touch. He takes this as an invitation to swiftly remove your pants, leaving you in nothing but a bra and panties.

“Let Binnie make you feel good, baby” He says, brushing against your sensitive folds, pushing your underwear aside to leave kisses on your clit. He licks a stripe down you before inserting a finger inside of you, thrusting with precision. 

Your head hits the wall as you moan. “Fuck, how are you so good at this?” Your words come out as jumbles as he continues to please you.

“Come on, baby. I’m not stopping until you cum all over my fingers,” Changbin murmurs, picking up the pace of his fingers inside you, working you up to the edge.

Your hands reach down to grip his hair, feeling more pleasure than you’ve ever felt before. 

“Go ahead, cum for me baby. Let it all go,” he whispers against your clit, sending your legs shaking above him. He feels your walls clench around his fingers and presses his mouth against your clit one last time before standing up and sucking everything off his fingers. His breathing is ragged as he watches you come down from your high.

“Fuck, youre incredible, bunny.” You pull him into a needy kiss, moaning as you taste yourself on his lips. Changbin hums into the kiss, running up and down your back as he holds you close, “I could do this all night.”

“Please,” you whine, “Binnie, I need you to fill me up.” He laughs, picking you up and throwing you down on the couch that lays in the back corner of the studio. Changbin gets on top of you, leaning down for his tongue to invade your mouth once more. Your hands reach down to tug on the waist band of his sweatpants, pulling them and his boxers down. 

“Are you sure about this?” he asks, pulling away from the kiss slowly. You nod your head, looking at him, the hunger in his eyes making you flutter. He takes his cock in his hands lining up with your entrance before pushing himself in slowly.

“Tell me when I can move, baby”

“Please, Binnie, I need you,” You whimper, needing to feel him take all of you. With a hum, he starts a steady pace, hitting every spot inside of you. You throw your head back in pleasure, moaning out his name, his cock hitting places you never even knew about.

“I’m not gonna last much longer, you feel so good,” He whines, reaching a hand up to snake around your neck, squeezing gently. “Come on baby, cum for me, you can do it.” 

You feel your stomach tighten as you reach your high, trying to use your hand to muffle your screams, remembering where you two were. You clench around him as his body shudders in pleasure as his seed fills you up completely. He reaches down, planting kisses down your neck, not yet pulling out from inside of you.

You speak out, breathless between kisses, “You should probably finish that song before Chan gets back…”

“Mhm..,” he hums, pulling out and sitting up on the couch, his breathing finally stable. “Come here, baby girl,” he says as he pulls you up into his arms, nuzzling his nose against your hair. “You’re amazing.”

Your head falls in the crook of his neck, taking in everything that just happened.

“I take it we’re not good friends anymore, huh?” you ask, giving him a small laugh and placing a kiss on his cheek. 

He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear before returning a giggle to your question. “Definitely not,” His voice is soft as he leans your foreheads together. “You're mine now, and I promise I’m never letting you go.”

A/N: there ya go! this was my first time writing smut in years so I do hope this turned out okay! my requests and asks are open if anyone wanted to pop some hot takes, suggestions, comments or anything else you may want to say. Thank you for coming along with me as I finally return from my 3 year long fanfic hiatus. Happy Holidays guys!

[01zfan]

rotten valentine | p. wb

fwb!wonbin x fem. reader | 4.5k words

contains: red flag wonbin, he’s kinda toxic, this is like the evil version of necklace

happy (late) valentines day!

the fourteenth day in the month of february came and went for you each year. it wasn’t always a normal day in your life—it used to be an event. writing every single one of your classmates names on a note with candy attached and receiving what seemed like thousands back. the excitement and magic of the day devolved from elementary school, turning into the occasional candy gram you would get from your friends in junior high. by the time you got to college, valentine’s day had just become another day. 

you were well into adult life now, and your life was drained of all romance. you forgot what it was like to kiss someone you were dating and your last serious relationship felt like a distant memory. it felt like romance was make believe, something manufactured in movie studios to make profit. you had suitors and you had the dating apps, but nothing sparked that same feeling you found yourself chasing late at night.

wonbin was someone you yearned for. he came into your life like a meteor, crashing on the surface of your mind and killing all potential thoughts you had of finding someone else. 

you saw him first at a party, the dimly lit room failed to hide the way he looked at you. his gaze pierced through the sea of people and you found yourself thinking about the scenes in the movies. this was the part where wonbin came up to you and cracked jokes with you all night, woo’ing you and calling you pretty. you rationalized that wonbin didn’t have his script when he unceremoniously came up to you, pulling your attention way from your friends. you followed him like a moth to a flame deeper to the dance floor, where the music was so loud you could barely hear him. he took a sip from his cup, letting it rest in his hand. you barely had wonbin’s attention as he leaned over to request a song to the dj.

after making the request wonbin leaned against the wall and continued to drink. the previously muted yellow light that made you feel like the party was shot on film turned to a deep red. it felt almost choreographed as as wonbin’s eyes raked down your body. in any other instance you would’ve been disgusted by a man looking at you with so much lust. but you felt proud that you had piqued his interest. you didn’t want to lose him. 

the music changed to the song wonbin requested and he smirked. you found that he donned that look anytime someone did what he wanted, so smug like he knew no one could deny him. it was the same smugness that made his eyes stay on your chest as he took another sip of his drink.

“did you come alone?” wonbin asked.

you looked behind to your friends that kept a careful eye on you. you’re shocked wonbin didn’t notice them. maybe he was too caught up in you to notice.

“i came with my friends.” you said.

the lights started flashing red, making the party around you feel like a nightclub. people started dancing to the song more frantically than before, moving from gentle sways to jumping on the makeshift dance floor. some people bumped into you, making the drink in your cup raise over the rim and splash on your hand. wonbin remained untouched on the wall a look of amusement on his face as he looked at the partygoers have fun because of his song suggestion. the dj gave him a nod of acknowledgement and you could see it go directly to his head. the confidence made you dizzy just like his perfume did when he beckoned you to come to his corner. you placed a hand on the wall to steady yourself and wonbin brought a hand to your hip. his hand was comforting just like the smell of aged spice that flooded your nose. wonbin looked at you for a moment before leaning to your ear.

“wanna ditch your friends?” he asked. 

his amusing smile didn’t waiver, his curled up lips so close to your face you felt it on the shell of your ear. you knew he knew your answer. you didn’t even have to nod as you turned around to get through the dancing crowd. your mind was buzzing with alcohol as the beautiful man followed behind you. your friends had joined the cluster of partygoers as you walked up the stairs. they couldn’t even see you through the haze of smoke clouds and flashing lights. if you were in your right mind you would’ve joined them, squeezing your sweaty body through everyone till you made it to your group. but nothing else mattered to you except for getting wonbin alone, and wonbin’s hand on your ass was guiding you there.

wonbin’s collision with you that night wiped away all common sense you had in regards to him. if you had half a mind you would’ve told him you don’t fuck strangers at parties or fuck on beds that aren’t your own. but any rational thought was out the window when it came to wonbin. anything to feel the euphoria of being pressed into the sheets and hearing him moan because of you. his sloppy passion from his tipsy state paired with his precise thrusts made your throat raw from your cries. you had never felt that way in your life. that’s why each time he hit you with his late night messages you responded. it always started with a text, so non assuming and casual it made your head hurt.

you up?

you hated that your life had come to this, chasing after someone so bad for you. it had gotten to the point that you couldn’t bring wonbin up anymore in your friend’s presence, visible aggravation showing on their faces. you vividly remember when your friend gave you a wake up call. you should’ve listened, she wasn’t wrong when she told you about wonbin. he was hot and cold, only reached out to you when he needed to feel something wrapped around him, and took advantage of your lonliness. you nodded your head and felt the sting of tears as she comforted you through acceptance. 

the intervention was no use; you went back to him that night. you held strong for an hour, until wonbin attached an i need u to the end of his initial text. you couldn’t resist going back to wonbin when he said he needed you. you had gotten so used to seeing people kiss in movies that you started thinking kisses tasted like stale popcorn and artificial sweetener. but wonbin’s kisses tasted like vanilla and his lips felt like clouds. how could you not go back to him?

it didn’t help that wonbin knew it was wrong to play with your emotions. he wasn’t a bad person by any means, just someone who needed constant temporary company. he did all he could for the girls he had sex with and communicated what he was looking for before the arrangements started. but you were different. you were innocent and naive, still believing that the romance in movies was something obtainable. wonbin liked that about you, he believed the fact that you were a hopeless romantic made you better in bed. it made you ride him even if your legs were burning and it made you relax your throat and let your tongue go limp so you could take all of him. it also made you come back to him over and over again. it was almost too easy getting you to make the late night drive to his apartment. 

wonbin tried to ween himself off of you for your own sake, but you didn’t let it last long. it was usually wonbin to text you first, and he thought that you would just move on with your life if he never reached out to you again. so when the time came around that wonbin would send the infamous text, he just masturbated to get sex off his mind and went to bed. but while he was sleeping soundly you were tossing and turning, checking your phone every ten minutes waiting for your bat signal. 

you hated to admit it felt like you were at your lowest those three days you had no contact with wonbin. holding out and not texting him was the last bit of power you had in your dynamic with him. your mind rationalized that as long as it was wonbin texting you, you had some semblance of control. but you willingly tipped the scale on day three, telling wonbin you wanted to see him. the way he read your message immediately made your heart swell, the three bubbles in the gray text made you regret everything. it was like you were taking the biggest risk of your life waiting for a response from him. 

you were lucky that your risk played out well for you that night. you relinquished the last authority you had to wonbin by telling you that you needed him, but he made it up to you when you showed up at his door. the way he moaned your name and marked your neck made you truly believe that you were his. wonbin fucking you into the mattress made you believe that romance movies and couples holding hands had nothing on this.

when you woke up next to wonbin the next morning, nothing had changed. he was still uninterested in getting involved romantically, only offering you a tired goodbye as you got up from his bed. 

after that, you knew you had nothing else to gain from your relationship with wonbin. it never stopped you from putting on your coat and driving over to him, or knocking on his door. but that didn’t stop you from opening your phone when he sent you his text.

sorry for going ghost

busy week at work.

you scoffed and rolled your eyes like you didn’t miss him. atleast he had the decency to try and explain the situation. you knew that it was the truth—wonbin didn’t care enough to lie to you.

couldn’t stop thinking about my favorite girl though

you just wish wonbin wasn’t so fucking awful. you wish he didn’t know it either. he knew how awful he was for calling you his favorite girl even though you were on his backburner all the time. he knew how awful he was for hitting all your spots just right, for knowing your body so well within a few minutes. and he was so fucking rotten for knowing how to get you to show up at his door late at night.

you walked up the stairs to his apartment after he buzzed you in. you wish you could say you weren’t tingling with excitement going up the stairs. knowing that wonbin wanted to spend time with you regardless of the circumstance made you happy. it was hard to not believe you weren’t the most important person in wonbin’s life when he looked at you that way when he answered the door.

the view before you was shocking—wonbin stopped trying to be sweet about your hookups a long time ago. he had ditched the casual clothes and started answering in just his boxers and a white tee to let you know what his intentions were. he stopped leading you to the couch to uselessly chat you up and ask questions he didn’t care to hear the answers to. now all wonbin did was answer the door and immediately lead you to the bedroom, expecting you to ditch your clothes on the way. but this wonbin answered with a gummy smile and kissed you passionately in the hallway of closed apartment doors.

”i missed you.” wonbin said sweetly when he pulled away.

you were too busy staring at him with wide eyes to answer. he pulled you into his small apartment, closing the door and locking it. wonbin took in. your shocked expression and laughed—he was so fucking awful.

you hated that wonbin’s apartment was tidy. you believed that if you could find just one disgusting thing about him you would be able to take off the rose tinted glasses, but his apartment was even cleaner than yours. it was always dimly lit but you could make out the decorations and see the color palette he was trying to achieve. you could tell a musician lived here, from the edited sheet music that laid on the coffee table and his guitar resting on the couch. you had dreams of him leading you to the living room and playing you a song that made him think of you. but you had to settle for wonbin leading you to his bedroom.

wonbin walked to the edge of his bed while you took off your shoes and jacket. usually guests take them off at the front door, but you weren’t given the privilege to put your things on the coat rack or your shoes by the front door. you had to settle for throwing your jacket on the back of his chair and your shoes by the door. you don’t know wonbin was like that, but you’re sure finding out would’ve only made you feel awful.

after taking off your coat and shoes, you walked around wonbin’s bed to him. his head followed you all the way from his door, watching you with careful eyes.

you stood in front of him, playing with the ends of his hair. wonbin wrapped his arms around your waist, pressing his face into your stomach. it was hard to not feel somber in these moments, with him being so touchy. you had seen wonbin in the mornings when you’d sneak away, hair splayed out on the pillow as the sun caught on his eyelashes. he looked so pure in those moments, nothing like the man that put you through emotional hell. his lips were soft even in the morning. even though wonbin was the devil in some aspects you couldn’t deny he wasn’t an angel, especially in the morning when his face was the first thing you woke up to. he was rotten but also so sweet, awful but so good. he was an enigma in your life, and it was a shame he didn’t want to be yours. but maybe if you sucked his dick good enough you’d change his mind.

wonbin continued to look at you as you got on your knees before him, slotting yourself between his legs. wonbin lifted his hips off the bed to take off his boxers, letting them pool at his ankles. his dick was hard and heavy in your hand. you rested your head on his thigh, bringing his tip to touch your tongue. wonbin propped himself up on his arms after taking a look at you, he knew you knew what to do. he ran a hand through his hair and let out a sigh when you took in as much as you could, using your hand to occupy the space you couldn’t reach.

you head still rests on his thigh when he brings himself upright again to look at you. you want to make sure he’s watching when you relax your throat and touch your nose to his stomach. wonbin grunts now, bucking his hips up in the slightest way to make you gag.

you take wonbin from your mouth to try and regain your composure. the hold he has on your hair tilts your head up. wonbin looks at your teary eyes and swollen lips. his dick pulses in your hand as he looks at how ruined you are. inside and out, all because of him.

“you’re so fucking pretty.” wonbin says.

you whimper at his compliment and take him back into your mouth after licking a long strip down the shaft that makes wonbin hiss. he’s cruel and enjoyes withholding the sounds he truly wants to make. he believes it makes you work harder. when he hits the back of your throat he lets you hear a whimper and when your throat vibrates as you gag on him he moans. 

“so good,” wonbin whispers. “almost there.”

and you are so good. wonbin has hands in your hair is just for show. he doesn’t have to push your head or buck into your mouth to get what he needs to cum down your throat. you just do it because you like him more than you should. the premise of being close also gives you the vigor to continue, ignoring the pain in your knees from kneeling on the ground and the soreness of your jaw. it makes you flick your tongue over wonbin’s tip, and when his hand suddenly tightens in your hair he cums without warning. wonbin’s legs stiffen under your palms, and he lifts his hips up slightly to meet your lips.

the only time your defiant is when it comes to swallowing wonbin’s cum. you never turn down eating it but each time your eyes switch from lust to disgust. you take it all because wonbin wants you to, but each time you stick out your tongue and make a bleugh sound.

“you need to drink some fucking water,” you grimace. “your cum tastes like toxic waste.”

that’s the only peak of your strong personality that wonbin gets to see. any other time you are so docile and pliant, saying your yes’s and please’s and thank you’s. you are more mysterious than him sometimes, the way you successfully hide so much of your personality from wonbin. maybe he just doesn’t care enough to pick more at your surface to find out. but maybe if you knew how to use the mysteriousness to your advantage wonbin would be more intrigued by you. regardless, you always go back to the same docile fuck buddy when wonbin lifts your chin up to look at him.

“you like eating it though, don’t you?” wonbin says simply.

you mindlessly nod you head and your eyes are filled with the same look of adoration before he came in your mouth. it makes wonbin equal parts turned on and smug, his limp dick already working back up to a semi.

wonbin moves back on the bed and you get up from the floor to follow him. you stumble onto the sheets, doing everything in your power to not show how stiff your knees are. you crawl towards wonbin sitting against the headboard with that stupid smirk on his face. he looks down at your chest. the way your breasts hang freely makes him want to put them in his mouth, or hold them tightly until you squirm.

when you’re leaning against the headboard wonbin hands you a water bottle resting on his bedside table. the bottle has collapsed in on itself slightly and had condensation inside. you thank him anyway for the room temperature water—it’s just what you need because wonbin is the one who gave it to you. you finish the bottle, but the taste of him still remains on your tongue.

“thank you.” you say

wonbin still looks at you as you place the water on the other bedside table. he smiles at how shy you suddenly are, waiting for him to initiate the next part of the night. something about you makes his libido increase tenfold. his dick is already hard and straining against his lower stomach.

“how do you want it? want me to be romantic?” wonbin said sarcastically.

you looked at him in confusion, not sure where the second comment came from. did you let something slip again in the heat of the moment? did he pay attention to your instagram story that was indirecting him?

whatever wonbin meant, it was long forgotten when he leaned into you to kiss you again. it was sick how good he was at kissing, even more sick that passionate kisses meant nothing to him. someone should only kiss their lovers the way wonbin was kissing you. he was so gentle pressing his open mouth against yours, pressing his tongue against yours so gently. you have never been kissed this way you’re entire life, it was twisted that wonbin expected you to not catch feelings by the way he carefully touched your face and didn’t pull away from you until you lost your breath.

he was rotten for treating you like glass. when you had sex with other men, they would tear off your clothes impatiently to fuck you as soon as possible, but wonbin always took his time. he would pull down the waistband of your sweatpants while still kissing you, all you had to do was lift your hips. he never took off your panties with your pants either, always giving your under garments extra care. he knew how to take off your bra with one hand and shimmy you out of your panties with the other, pulling away from your lips to sigh contently when you were completely naked for him.

“so gorgeous.” wonbin said, almost like he couldn’t believe it.

wonbin guided your body to straddle his hips, letting your pussy rest on his hard dick. he enjoyed this part the most, being able to feel how wet you were without being inside. he liked how shy you got sitting on top of him, swiveling your hips to spread your slick on his shaft. wonbin liked that you were just as dirty as he was and that you were able to adapt to what he wanted so quickly. he looked down to where you two were almost connected then looked up to you. wonbin liked the glint you had in your eyes, like you were waiting for him to say something.

“wanna ride me?” wonbin asked.

you nodded and lifted your hips up. wonbin maintained eye contact as he grabbed his tip and used the knuckle of his finger to rub down your folds, until he found your entrance. he let go of his dick and his hands found your hips. wonbin looked to you, waiting for you to give him permission to slowly pull you down to him. but you took matters into your own hands, sliding your body down his shaft slowly.

wonbin couldn’t stop his moan from coming out, and you could only look down at his face for a moment before feeling heat creep on your face. you let out a tiny moan and collapsed your body down to tuck your face into wonbin’s neck. you also gave up trying to ride him, making him thurst up into you.

“so cute.” wonbin said breathlessly.

he pressed your lips to his absentmindedly while he continued to fuck up into you. you don’t know why wonbin kept craning his neck awkwardly to see your face that rested on his shoulder. you don’t know why he was making himself uncomfortable just to see your face contort in pleasure. you had spent so many other times having sex with wonbin while your face stayed buried in his neck. this was to personal, especially when he used his hand that was holding your ass down to tilt your head up. it felt like wonbin’s blown out eyes were looking straight into your soul, watching you be consumed by him completely.

seeing wonbin so enthralled by you was what brought you to your peak. your moans pierced through your throat, and wonbin finally let you go to your safe place in his neck. while your body went stiff from pleasure, his slow speed increased significantly. the sound of his skin slapping against yours filled the room and your hands on his shoulder dug into his skin for stability. he was awful for letting the pain from your nails only spur him on. he didn’t stop while you clenched around him uncontrollably, or when your moans turned into babbles and cries. wonbin wrapped an arm around you and held you close, still thrusting up into you.

“take it baby—fuckkkkk.” wonbin groaned.

you could feel the sudden heat inside of you and wonbin pulling you even closer. his hips stilled and you milked him, both of you basking in the heat and electricity of the moment. it was you pulling away from wonbin now, looking into his face that he pressed against the pillows. you raised your hips up before gliding back down, feeling white molten lava seeping out of you. wonbin got whiny almost immediately, wincing from the overstimulation and the feeling of you still seizing around him. you loved this part the most, seeing him completely at your mercy. you basked in the thought of his other girls walking in and seeing you two like this. like you were the dominant one, the one cooing at him that it’s okay. but you were reminded who called the shots when wonbin used his strength to still your hips and pull himself of of you. 

you rolled off of him and caught your breath, wonbin did the same but took significantly longer than usual. the next time you inevitably end up on top of him you’ll have to do the same thing again.

while wonbin composed himself you walked to the bathroom and peed, cleaning up the wet patch on your thighs when wonbin pulled out. the worst part was after everything when you were in the bathroom alone, contemplating if your relationship with wonbin had changed. fuck buddies didn’t fuck like that you would always think to yourself. but then wonbin would come in and have that same smug look from the party. you were reminded who you were and who wonbin was and what your relationship was. it was painful, but it was necessary. you got up from the toilet wordlessly and flushed so wonbin could do the same.

you go back to his room to put your clothes on and head for the door. you’re sure wonbin would come out of the bathroom and not spare a second thought about the empty space on his bed. it was for the better. you decided in that moment you would leave his apartment and never come back—this time you were serious. maybe you would make something of your day tomorrow to celebrate your freedom. you thought that rotting in your bed and regretting your decision about wonbin seemed way more appealing than going on a walk or watching a movie. when you turned the doorknob to get out you heard wonbin’s sink turn off and the sound of him speed walking through his apartment.

you looked at the wonbin, eyes flitting to his marked neck and bed head. he still had sleep in his eyes when he took your head in his hands. you gave into him completely as he bent your head down. he pressed his warm lips to your forehead. it caught you by surprise the sudden affection. it kept you frozen in place as he pinched your cheeks, smiling as he opened the door.

“happy valentines day.” wonbin said while opening the door fully.

you are frozen at his door as he kisses your knuckles. you had forgotten what day it was and that the fourteenth of february was supposed to mean something. you wordlessly walk out his door and wonbin closes it behind you, walking back to his bedroom to go back to sleep.

[thesherrinfordfacility]

this is going to be the speediest speculation you have ever seen in your life because it is gone 3am and im losing my mind BUT. this little snippet? from rob wilkins? well i think - i think - i found what he was referring to.

in the frame behind the bentley and aziraphale, it's clearly flooded. we know the set was built within a studio, so elemental factors can't be at play here - this is deliberate. and noone seems to notice it, but it's very neatly framed between the two.

now, let's consider references to flooding re: second coming. well, matthew was a bullseye:

"as it was in the days of noah", there will be a flood that arrives when the second coming does. it will be there before anyone knew it, and swept them away. ergo, i think we can assume that the second coming has in fact already happened (still think it's greasy but whatever)

but also look at the splitting of humanity; sound familiar to the final fifteen? one will be taken, and the other left? marrying and giving in marriage - failed in our boys' case 💀 but did nina set a timeline, saying "one day", when she's ready to be with maggie?

also - people eating and drinking? sounds familiar also, when you consider how ham they went on pushing the vol-au-vents, the tiny dinners (thanks jim) on people at the ball.

im not okay.

[koqabear]

Hiii congrats on 2k sol obsessed with everything you write!!!!💓 Could I request revisiting emo boy? Like what their relationship is like after and dates and how sex is like? Maybe beomgyu’s band really blows up and he’s quite busy, how does oc respond to this? And with smut? Tysm!!💝

playlist // beomgyu's encore outfit hehe // cont. of hey emo boy!

 “The day of your one-year anniversary with Beomgyu was expected to be spent away from each other— but not if either of you can help it, far too in love to let anything get in the way of you two.”

bassist!beomgyu x fem!reader // wc: 6.6K (everyone stfu rn) // genre: band au, opposites attract trope, established relationship, smut, tooth rotting fluff tbh, MDNI.

warnings: they are in love and it’s fucking GROSS!! barely edited, the two have hella piercings hehe (bg: snake bites, tongue, eyebrow // mc: smiley & nipple piercings) pet names (sweet thing, pretty, etc.) use of the L word bc they are literally obsessed w/ each other.

smut warnings: hard dom! gyu, sub!mc, needy sex sorry 😖, marking, manhandling, dry humping, biting, breast play, possessiveness, unprotected sex, bg picks the mc up, scratching, dacryphilia, dumbification, a lot of kissing lol, degrading, slight praise, fingering, creampie, cum eating…? lmk if i should add anything !

Notes: happy (late) birthday to the fic that’s probably my peak… this story single handedly changed the course of my blog me thinks. thank you to everyone who was just as affected by emo gyu as i was. 

Being in a committed relationship with Choi Beomgyu, bassist of Tomorrow x Together and an absolute unattainable heartthrob, was not very easy. 

It was at first; with their blossoming career, it was more about the music than their looks. Fans were loyal simply because they liked their sound, their message, the way their concerts were filled with such energy and passion it left their hearts beating with adrenaline after— but of course, it’s hard to not notice the absolute eye candy on stage; low-lidded gazes, dark stage lights that barely highlighted their stunning features, and clothing that was just as alluring and flattering as the rest of them; inevitably, their popularity sky-rocketed, for better and for worse. 

Beomgyu was left with more money than he knew what to do with. Most of the time, it was used to spoil you, his pretty girlfriend he brought with him everywhere because he was just too obsessed with you— it made his band members wonder if he simply had attachment issues by how much his world revolved around you. But no, you were just as bad as him; present during rehearsals, always in the studio to cheer them on or give them a second opinion on a new song; it wasn’t long before you ended up befriending the rest of them as well, a tight bond forming simply because of all the things you went through together. 

As unfortunate as it was, they weren’t the only ones forced to bear with negative and hateful encounters from the public; while they had their experiences of being mistreated early in their career, you had to deal with immature or creepy fans that had taken a liking to harass you— inboxes on all social media platforms flooded constantly, your number even leaked once as you were forced to buy a new phone all together from how badly you were being spammed— Beomgyu had been quick to lash out and tell them to leave you alone if they didn’t want a lawsuit on their hands. 

Overtime, they adjusted to their popularity. Schedules slowly became filled to the brim, their dream now a reality as they spent months on tour— and while you were more than happy and proud of them and their flourishing career, it’d be a lie to say it was all one happy and perfect life. 

You hadn’t seen Beomgyu in ages— decades, centuries, eons— in other words, two weeks. 

The band had more interviews and performances than you could keep up with; if they weren’t on some random talk show, they were at a photoshoot, getting interviewed for the next issue of a magazine you’d undoubtedly have on your coffee table the day it came out. Promotions, nights at the studio, it all added up— and before you knew it, your one year anniversary began to creep up, and all hopes to celebrate it properly dwindled down in your heart— but, having him here with you today was enough. 

You didn’t blame Beomgyu; you weren’t angry or upset, because it was simply something neither of you could control. And though it did suck knowing you wouldn’t be able to spend such a meaningful day together, it felt a little better to know that you weren’t the only one hung up on it. 

On the contrary— you think Beomgyu might be handling this worse than you. 

“Baby, baby please,” he cries, refusing to let go of you and cuddling closer to you instead, a mess of tangled limbs and blankets as he cups your face fondly, “pleaaase I know you said I shouldn’t feel bad but please come on tour with us this week, I think I’ll seriously die if you’re not here this time.”

“Gyu, baby, I really shouldn’t—” you say quietly, only to get cut off by his excessive whining and teary eyes. His bottom lip is jutted out in a ridiculous pout, squeezing your cheeks and holding back a smile at the way your lips puff out as a result; you attempt to push him off you, only for him to retaliate by rolling entirely on top of you, a loud squeal escaping you at the feeling of his weight pressing you into the mattress, his stupid face hovering over yours as he continues to plead you quietly. 

“Pleaaseee?” he whines, pressing his flat palms against your cheeks and getting your lips to puff out again; he ignores your half-hearted protests for him to get the fuck off, choosing to punctuate his every word with a kiss instead, his piercings a sharp contrast to his plump lips that crash against you with every word. 

“Please?” kiss. “Won’t you,” kiss. “come with us?” another kiss. 

“Please. Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease—” 

He’s practically suffocating you at this point, refusing to pull away and mumbling the words against your lips, laughs breaking between the two of you as you yell at him to get off, that you can barely breathe with him on top of you; you’re pushing at his shoulders weakly as he continues to tease you, your unabashed laugh contagious as he quickly finds himself smiling as well— he only pulls away once he hears you yell a loud fuck, okay! Hovering over you with bright eyes and a wide grin. 

His arms snake around your waist before he’s rolling over, successfully switching so that you’re the one on top of him— he ignores the loud and exaggerated sigh of relief you let out. 

“It won’t make much of a difference though,” you say quietly, hiding in the crook of his neck as you confess your doubts, “You’ll be too busy and exhausted the whole day, I really don’t want me to be added to your list of concerns.”

You went on tour with him, once— but you learned it was better off to not be anywhere backstage with him during those times, the boy too concerned and constantly doting on you to remain focused; any mistakes he made hitting much harder, a subconscious pressure to be perfect and give his all only trifolded by your presence.

“What? No,” he says immediately, sitting back on his elbows and causing you to look up at him in response; his brows are furrowed and he seems a bit baffled by your comment, shaking his head adamantly to emphasize his point, “I like having you there. I know you like being there, I want you there— I wouldn’t be asking you to come with me if I thought you were a burden.”

He managed to pull out the exact words you were trying to skirt around— your face heats up at his reassurance, much too intimidated by the intensity of his gaze as you bury your face into his chest instead; his chest bounces from the laugh he lets out, flopping onto his back once more and hugging you close, bodies pressed flush against each other and one of his legs thrown around your waist in a childish attempt to pull you even closer. 

“Plus, don’t you wanna visit Europe with me?” he asks, a teasing lilt to his voice as he feels you nod shyly; he knows just how much you enjoy the travel aspect to his career, constantly asking for pictures or to facetime while he’s gone, “I wanna show you all my favorite spots this time, and not through some glitchy facetime— I wanna spend time with you, sweet thing.”

“Ugh, shut up,” you groan, hitting his chest weakly as he simply laughs at you softly, “you’re so corny.”

“You love it,” he coos, rubbing a soothing hand up and down your back, biting back a smile at the way he can feel your breath even out— you remain silent. Partly because you’re falling asleep from his touch, and partly because he’s right. 

⤬⤬⤬ 

Europe is breathtaking— you’ve never been so grateful for Beomgyu’s stubborn, persistent mind. 

The tour has gone as perfect as always, spending a few days at their shows before you simply resigned to stay at the hotel instead; after seeing that Beomgyu was so distracted trying to look for you during a show that he missed his cue (and played the notes wrong to another song) you found it better to wait for him and see him after instead— ready to help him wind down and relax after another energetic, adrenaline-inducing show. 

Most nights consisted of you practically carrying him to the bathtub; cooing soft reassurance as he whined about how tired and sore he felt, shampooing his hair, massaging his scalp and tense shoulders— most of the time, he’d fall asleep then and there, and it’d be another hassle to wake him up and get him out. You’d lure him out of the tub and wait for him to change into your matching pajamas— hello kitty ones, his idea, not yours—  and greet him in the bed with a warm embrace and lips that peppered kisses all over his face.

It was during these moments you found humor in the contrast of his stage persona to his true self; from his usual attire, chokers and ripped clothes, wardrobe consisting of black and multiple piercings that decorated his ears and face, your thumb brushing over his newest eyebrow piercing fondly— versus the man that slept soundly in your arms now, long hair tied back and cute pink barrettes clipping back his bangs, donned in hot pink fuzzy pajamas— and you’re sure that if his band members saw him like this, they’d never stop teasing him. 

You didn’t have to wait long to confirm that thought; Beomgyu didn’t bother changing as he met up with the others in Yeonjun’s room for breakfast the next morning, tugging you along and remaining unfazed at the way his band members burst out laughing the moment he entered the room— you felt a bit bad at the way you found yourself laughing as well, even more so because you’re the only reason he’s found himself dressed like this. (But again, he was the one who bought these clothes in the first place.)

“Happy anniversary, you two,” Yeonjun muses, smiling at the way you’re the only one who seems to process that, chirping out a cheery thank you! as you proceed to drag Beomgyu to the couch, “I feel bad that we have a concert today, ___. As vomit-inducing as it is seeing you two, you do deserve to spend the day together.”

“It’s okay,” you immediately say, brushing his teasing comment off and holding back a smile at the way Beomgyu is still struggling to gain consciousness, more tired than you thought as he simply stares at his waffles for a moment before finally digging in, “at least he’s spending the day doing something he loves.”

“Gross,” Hueningkai says, scrunching his nose playfully before laughing at the glare you send him, “you two are so mushy, it’s painful.”

The rest of the day leading up to the concert is spent peacefully; once Beomgyu has gained enough coherence to fight back against the member’s jabs, he’s pulling you away to show you new sights and stores he discovered from his previous visits, spoiling you beyond belief and buying anything you look at for a second too long; you end up with more bags than you know what to do with, and Beomgyu refuses to let you carry a single one as he proceeds to take you one of his go-to restaurants, as he told you; saying he’s been wanting to bring you here since the moment he found it, smiling brightly when he sees you enjoying the food as much as he did.

To say he’s reluctant to leave you to go to the concert venue is an understatement; you think he might start crying at any given moment as he stares at you with shining eyes, unable to let go of your hand as he stands by the door of the hotel room— not quite ready to leave yet, but knowing that he must eventually as he chooses to bring you in for another slow, loving kiss instead. 

“Are you sure you’re not coming tonight?” he asks you, trying to hide the sadness in his voice and failing miserably.

“And make you fuck up your setlist? I don’t think so,” you try to joke, only to panic slightly at the way his eyes gloss over; your hand immediately jumps up to cup his face, laughing softly at his expression as he simply pouts at you ridiculously. 

“Hey, hey, it’s alright,” you grin, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips before you lean over to his ear, voice dropping to nothing but a whisper as you let your lips brush against his ear, “I’ll have a nice surprise for you tonight, so you better give your best show out there, okay?”

The low lilt of your voice is enough to have him perking up immediately; mouth parted slightly as he stares at you, unsure of what else to do but nod pathetically, knowing he won’t be able to control himself if he thinks about what you might have in store for too long. 

With one last chaste kiss, he’s leaving— and only because Soobin was pounding at the door, telling him they’d be late if he didn’t go out this instant— you think he might start crying as he gives you one last pouty glance, waving to you sadly before he slips out the door. 

You’re left alone, the room suddenly much lonelier and quieter than it was a few seconds ago— and you laugh, checking the time and running to your suitcase to get your makeup and outfit for tonight. 

A revealing shirt, a mini-skirt that’s a bit alarmingly short— you’re pulling out a sparkling, pink outfit like it’s nothing, throwing it all on and doing your makeup as you check the time absentmindedly; your phone lights up while you’re in the middle of doing so, and a notification reads that the staff are waiting for you outside to take you to the venue once you’re ready. 

Beomgyu loves performing knowing you’re in the audience more than anything; it’s something he’s made blatant to you, knowing that despite his mistakes, despite his small distractions, his energy always goes out the roof the moment he spots you there. So you knew how distraught Beomgyu would be to hear that you’re not going to the show tonight despite being able to, but the thought of surprising him is much more enticing than you’d like to admit. 

With one last check of your appearance in the mirror, you grab a jacket before you go; Beomgyu’s favorite oversized zip-up, the clothing item a stark contrast to the rest of your feminine and bright attire— and you smile, adjusting the purse on your shoulder before you’re off to the hotel lobby, where the staff are waiting and ready to escort you safely. 

The venue is almost full by the time you get there; you’re escorted straight to your barricade seats front and center, smiling shyly and waving at fans that seem to recognize you; your face feels hot and you walk faster at the way they get excited at the sight of you, not used to the fame that comes with being Beomgyu’s girlfriend— hell, you really don’t know how Beomgyu does it. 

You’re more than relieved once the concert begins, any attention that still lingered on you immediately getting stolen by the boys that appeared on stage; you winced slightly at the loud screams all around you, unable to help the way you eventually joined in— morphing into another fan in the crowd, the venue much too dark for any of the boys to recognize you just yet. 

They looked stunning in their concert outfits; the professional, matching and dark outfits tailored perfectly to each member, intricate with chains and rosaries and pretty layers. Your eyes widen as you watch Beomgyu walk to his position, taking note of his hair that has now been dyed back to black— you hadn’t realized how long it’d gotten until now, the layers framing his face and falling into his eyes as he goes to push back his bangs with a delicate hand. 

There are no introductions tonight— the music begins immediately, loud and abrasive and making the crowd jump along excitedly, screaming the lyrics and reaching out to try and get one of the members to pay attention to them— on the contrary, you try to remain hidden, looking away and bowing your head every time Beomgyu’s gaze sweeps around your area. 

God, you wish Beomgyu didn’t turn into such a ditz whenever he spotted you in the audience— because then you’d be able to enjoy more of their concerts, addicted to the borderline euphoric feeling you get from attending them, only for it to be multiplied as your eyes catch onto your boyfriend performing, your heart pounding against your chest at the sound of his voice ringing out into the venue— a surge of pride and love fills you as a grin spreads on your face, and it isn’t until you notice a member walking around that you’re able to look away from him.

Looking up, you make eye contact with Hueningkai. 

His mischievous smile and raised brows are immediately returned with a violent shake of your head; telling him to not say anything to Beomgyu, rubbing your hands together pleadingly the moment he glances back at the said man— then he turns to you, sending you a playful wink before he’s off to another section, not without sending you one last teasing grin and a wave; you’re glancing at Beomgyu in a panic, unsure if he’s spotted you, only to be relieved at the sight of him too concentrated on playing to even look up at the crowd.

It isn’t until the encore that they’ve all begun to move around, (save for Taehyun and Soobin, bound to their instruments as they’re resigned to simply wave at the crowd when they can) changed into more comfortable outfits during a small intermission— Beomgyu is decked in baggy jeans and an equally baggy shirt, long hair messy and makeup smudged as he walks along the stage, smiling and waving at fans that reach out for him— he plays his bass so effortlessly as he does, truly mesmerizing as he stops a few times to interact with fans; the sight has your heart fluttering hopelessly. 

But the closer he gets, the more you’re buzzing with nervous energy. Gripping onto the barricade tightly, having stood up long ago with the rest of the fans that are eager to get their attention. Beomgyu’s eyes scan through the crowd thoroughly, smiling cutely and returning hearts until he spots you. 

He freezes entirely. 

He’s no longer playing bass— he’s just standing there, in complete shock as he stares at you. You can only muster to give him a sheepish wave, an uncontrollable grin on your face as you laugh at his dumbfounded expression, trying to yell at him to go back to playing. But he doesn’t, and you’re jumping slightly at the way he takes off his bass and jumps off the stage, security frantically following behind as he rushes over to you.

His hands are on your face and he’s pulling you in for a kiss quicker than you can process; you hear the screams of the crowd around you, but Beomgyu’s got you in his hold so tightly that you’re unable to pull away, left to give in and melt against him as he kisses you for a little longer. Your face feels as though it’s on fire by the time he’s pulled away, his own alight entirely with joy as he grins at you, your head still in his hands as he leans against the barricade excitedly— you think he might just jump over it any moment now.

“You’re here?” he says exasperatedly, eyes scanning you frantically as though he were imagining you, “why didn’t you tell me, you should’ve— I would’ve—”

“Beomgyu,” you cut him off, placing your hands over his and laughing at the way he can only stutter stupidly, brushing his hair behind his ear fondly— watching the way his eyes crinkle cutely as he smiles, your own sweeping over the array of piercings that decorate him, hello kitty earrings glinting under the light— and pry his hands off your face, ignoring the pout he sends you as you scold him instead. “Get back on stage!”

Your words seem to snap him out of his reverie; his head is whipping back to look at the stage, at the way his friends can only laugh at him teasingly and yell at him to get back here— the way Yeonjun yells directly into the mic is slightly embarrassing, shrinking at the way all eyes are on you as the man’s words ring out the venue— Beomgyu, get the fuck back here!

He’s only able to leave with one last chaste kiss— the crowd is screaming at the sight, and you’re resisting the urge to cover your face in weak hopes that it could take all this attention off you— but you’ll bear it, especially with the way Beomgyu mouths a cute I love you! before he’s jumping back on stage. 

The poor boy is unable to take his eyes off you for the rest of the night— but on the bright side, there are no missed cues or wrong notes played. He’s just entranced with you for the rest of the encore, his energy seemingly replenished with the way he jams out to the music; mouthing the lyrics even when it’s not his part, maintaining eye-contact with you during songs he knows you’re particularly fond of— and suddenly, the idea of spending his anniversary at a concert isn’t as depressing as it was earlier tonight— because now, he had you by his side. 

⤬⤬⤬

“Beomgyu— Beomgyu please, not here…” you whine, unable to do much but bite your lip and swallow back whines that threaten to escape you, left to Beomgyu’s mercy as he immediately led you to his dressing room after the show— the said man is much too focused on kissing and marking your neck to listen, soft hair brushing against your face as he pulls you flush against him; back pressed against the wall, arched prettily from the way his hands snake around your waist and press your lower half against his— you’re holding back a groan at the way he’s already hopelessly hard against you. 

“Why didn’t you tell me you’d be coming? Hmmm? Just wanted to be a tease? Was this your little surprise?” he asks, biting at your skin and huffing out a laugh at the whine that escapes you; your hands are gripping onto his shirt tightly, fisting it in your hands and wrinkling the material as he lets his teeth sink slightly near your collarbones, “god, you look so good tonight, you’d really expect me to be able to hold myself back?”

His hands are wandering down your waist; over the swell of your ass, fiddling with the hem of your mini-skirt before he’s venturing under it— feeling the way you shiver against him the moment his hands squeeze at the soft flesh, fingers decorated with rings cold against your skin as he comes back up to kiss you. It’s rough and desperate, lip rings scratching as he kisses you with such hunger it leaves you breathless; he grinds his cock desperately against you, eliciting a small gasp from you and allowing him to slip his tongue inside— the piercing that decorates it scrapes along your mouth, unable to help the way your knees weaken at the feeling of him— his touch is everywhere, leaving you dizzy and lightheaded as you can only melt against him, allowing him to press you flush against the wall with his own body; your miniskirt is riding up along your hips as he situates himself between your legs, panties already a mess as he begins to rut his cock into you. 

“Are you sure you want to wait now, pretty?” he asks, looking down at you with low-lidded and fucked out eyes— he punctuates his words with a particularly harsh thrust, laughing at the way you yelp and tighten your hold on him, “I could stop everything right now, send you back to the hotel like this and make you wait, just like you said— is that what you want?”

Oh, he’s cruel— even more so because you’re left shaking your head no deliriously, your mind fogged with such need that your eyes are glossing over at the very thought of not having Beomgyu inside you right now; your voice is pathetic as you plead Beomgyu to finish what he started, throwing a hand over his shoulder and entangling your fingers into his hair as you pull him back into you— he’s more than eager to return the kiss, tilting his head and pressing himself more against you as a hand reaches down to your thigh; grabbing the back of your knee, guiding you to hook it around his waist as he begins to rut into you mindlessly.

“So cute, my pretty girl,” he mumbles against your lips, eyes trailing down your low-cut top to spot his favorite zip-up, a smile tugging at his lips as he merely sends you a cute smile, “did you miss me that much? Already so needy from a little bit of kissing— god, I love you so much…”

You think he’s mostly talking to himself at this point— spewing nothing but filth as his hands shove your shirt over your chest, grinning as he remains impatient enough to not take off a single item of clothing, choosing to push tug your bra down harshly before he’s swooping down to mark your breasts with a cruel smile.

“Looked so fucking hot out there, just made me wanna take you backstage and fuck you there,” he confesses, listening to the choked whine you let out, his pierced tongue playing with your hardened nipples, leaving them swollen and sensitive. He’s looking up at you with doe eyes that contrast greatly with the way he sticks his tongue out for you, letting you watch the way he circles and toys with the cute jewelry he bought for you earlier today, pulling away with a coy smile and leaving them soaked with his spit— he blows softly on them, watching with tentative eyes as you keen at the feeling. 

“God, you know I’ve been wanting to do this every time I see you at one of our shows? To make sure that everyone that looks at you knows just who,” he rolls his hips into you, nice and slow and letting you feel the length of his cock press against you as you flutter your eyes shut from pleasure, “you’re here for?”

“Fuck, gyu,” you pant out, snaking your hands under his shirt and up his back, grabbing at his shoulders and pulling him into you— as if there’s still space between the two of you, as if you’d die if you weren’t touching him at all times, “‘m only yours, only want you…” 

He’s sneaking a hand down to move your panties to the side, the two of you much too desperate to shed off any layers— and as you listen to the clinking sounds of his belt, undoing his jeans and pulling out his hardened cock, you busy yourself by sucking and biting at his neck, listening to his stuttered breaths as you suck and tease at the joint of his neck, his most sensitive spot as you bite at it playfully— you’re only pulling away at the feeling of Beomgyu grabbing at you hair and tugging you away, letting out a baffled laugh at the satisfied look you give him in return. 

“Want everyone to know you’re mine,” you coo out softly, grinding your pussy slowly against Beomgyu’s tip that teases your entrance, your mouth falling open at the feeling of him mirroring the action, running along your folds and swiping at your clit, “all mine, my pretty boy…”

He laughs fondly against your lips at that— bringing you in for a slow kiss, feeling the way your mind goes blank the moment his tip slowing enters you; he’s swallowing a soft moan from you as he bottoms out slowly, keeping himself deep inside and grinding his hips slowly against yours— and he stays there, a tease like always as he watches your brows furrow and your lips pout, telling him softly to move, to do something.

“Mmmh, all yours,” he mumbles softly, pulling out slowly to let you feel the way every vein runs against your walls, clenching and fluttering against his length as he hisses at the feeling, “I’m yours, belong only to you, fuck…”

He’s not able to keep this agonizingly slow pace up for long— as much as he wants to tease you, to have you crying and pleading for him to fuck you stupid, he isn’t fairing that well himself— so it isn’t long before he’s beginning to snap his hips into you, cock curving and aiming for that spot that has your knees buckling, pretty nails digging into Beomgyu’s shoulders and biting at the skin in order to try to stabilize yourself.

“Such a perfect cunt— fuck, ah, just wanna fill you up, wanna see it dripping down those pretty thighs— stupid fucking skirt can’t hide anything, ugh—” his voice is deep and breathy as he continues to talk into your ear, his hands sliding down to the swell of your ass before he’s holding it there— lifting you up, forcing you to hook your legs around his waist as you’re left to his mercy; his chest is pressed flush against yours as he fucks you, and you can only bury your face into his neck to try and muffle your sounds, the rough way you bounce from his thrusts causing your nails to slip and scratch down his back— he hisses at the feeling, only to be spurred by the stinging sensation it leaves behind. 

“So loud, shit,” he laughs meanly, grinning at the way you only bury your face into him more to try and muffle your sounds, “want everyone to hear you? All the staff, the members— I’m sure they’d like to see what a pretty doll you are for me.”

You shake your head at that— but your body gives you away as your cunt clenches around him pathetically, the wet sounds of skin against skin filling the room and undoubtedly filtering outside— but you remain persistent to keep your moans to yourself, choking back on sounds of pleasure as Beomgyu only begins to fuck you rougher; your silence is a challenge, one he’ll gladly take as he begins to roll his hips into you just the way you like it. 

“Come on pretty, I wanna hear you,” he purrs into your ear, a hand snaking around to rub at your clit while the other remains firm on your ass, “don’t you feel good? I can make you feel even better— so, so so good, just let me hear your cute little sounds.”

You’re playing hard to get. And Beomgyu takes absolute pleasure in it, watching the way you shake and dig your nails into him helplessly, your body being wound up from how good he fucks you; your thighs are sticky and shining from your arousal, poorly concealed pleasure only fueling Beomgyu’s ego further as he reaches up to tug your head out from it’s hiding spot.

He thinks he might just cum on the spot; your makeup is ruined, tears of mascara running down your cheeks as you merely let out soft hiccups of moans, your lips parted and brain completely empty as you stare at him— he smiles at you in return, capturing your lips in another kiss as his hand begins to trail down; toying with your breasts, nimble fingers pinching and rolling your nipples as you jolt and whine into his mouth at the sensation. 

“Gyu— gonna— need to, ah…!” the choked whimpers you let out aren’t enough for Beomgyu, and he only slows down at your request; fresh tears stream down your cheeks as you plead softly, breathy voice barely above a whisper as you whine quietly to keep going, don’t stop, please gyu, pleeaaase…. 

“Hmm? What’s that? I can’t hear you, baby,” he murmurs softly against your lips, slowing to nothing but a grind as he presses himself against you— pelvis grinding against your clit, the feeling making you tremble as you dig your nails into his shoulders once more. “Come on sweet thing, tell me what you need.”

You’re telling him— begging, pleading, breathy whimpers and soft cries escaping you as you roll your hips into him, biting your lip and sighing exasperatedly at the way he simply watches you with dark eyes, slowing down until he’s simply bottomed out inside you. 

“What do you want?” he asks softly, breathy voice intertwined with a lilt so sweet you’d almost think he pities you— and by the way he’s looking at you, he just might, swollen lips caught between his teeth to try and suppress a smile. You’re still weak and quiet as you try to voice your wants, looking at him through wet lashes, a pout on your face as your hands run absentmindedly up and down his back.

“Wanna cum?” he coos, pretty hand reaching down to circle and pinch your clit teasingly, “Want me to fuck you? Fill you up? Hmmm?”

All you can do is nod along to his words stupidly— and obviously, it’s the very last thing your boyfriend wants, abandoning your clit and reaching up to grab your face roughly; fingers digging into your cheeks, forced to look at him as he merely glares at you and speaks through gritted teeth. 

“Tell me,” he says, voice sharp and dangerous as he narrows his eyes, “use your words— or, don’t tell me I’ve fucked you dumb already.”

He’s unhooking one of your legs from his waist at that; you’re stumbling slightly, leg too weak to let you stand as you merely cry at him to wait, bringing him closer to you in fear that he might pull out and leave you like this— his fingers still dig into your cheeks as you speak, drool building up at the corners of your pouty lips as you stutter out exactly what you want— what he wants to hear.

“Want you to fuck me, use me— wanna cum, please,” you cry out, eyes squeezing shut as he shakes your head teasingly, as though to say and what else? “Want you to cum inside, baby please, just wanna feel good—”

You’re rambling at this point. But Beomgyu enjoys it nonetheless, telling you to keep going as he begins to move again; slowly at first, allowing you to feel the drag of his thick cock against your walls as your words become stuttered through weak moans, the sight making your boyfriend laugh as he slowly begins to pick up his pace. 

“Like it when I fuck you like this, yeah?” you’re nodding in confirmation to his words; staring at him with pleading eyes, whimpering a soft harder, faster, that the man is immediately obliging as he coos at the way you yelp at the sensation. “Want it harder? Hmmm? Want me to fuck you ‘till you can’t even walk—? Have to carry you out of here, let everyone see the way your sweet cunt is filled up by me?”

All you can do is nod to his words at this point; whimpering a weak yes, yesyesyes, want you to fill me up, use me, more more please—

Everything crashes down on you unexpectedly; your eyes are shutting tight and you think you might just black out as your orgasm hit you suddenly, cunt squeezing and fluttering around Beomgyu’s cock as he groans at the sensation— he lets you ride it out, cooing soft praise into your ear before he’s pulling you in for another kiss; you’re barely able to kiss him back, moaning into his mouth and letting him do whatever he wants with you.

It isn’t long before he’s cumming inside you as well; you’re so tight he can barely move, your cute whimpers and warm cunt guiding him through it as he fucks into you slowly, making sure none of his release slips out as he continues to fuck you, even after he’s become horribly sensitive. Then he’s still, lips still on yours and arms wrapped tightly around you as though he’s afraid to let you go.

“You okay?” he asks quietly after a moment, still lingering close to you, taking in your appearance with tentative eyes. You nod softly, still attempting to catch your breath as you chest heaves against his; he huffs out a soft laugh, caressing your cheek fondly before he’s going to fix your clothes— your mini-skirt remains up on your hips, his cock still bottomed out inside you as he coos about how good you were for him, caressing any skin he can get his hands on (which is a lot, considering your wardrobe) with a smile.

“Pretty girl, so perfect,” he coos, finally pulling out and tucking himself in before he’s going to fix your clothing; not without slipping his fingers inside your cunt one last time, watching with hungry eyes as you curl into him and cry that you’re sensitive— he’s only satisfied after his cum is left snug in your pussy, smiling darkly at the way he brings his fingers up to your mouth for you to clean— you do it without any hesitation, and Beomgyu swears he might just be getting hard again. 

“Love you so much, thank you for coming to see me today,” he says instead, bringing you in for a warm hug and a loving kiss; you merely hum tiredly in response, hands slipping out from his shirt only to be thrown over his shoulders leisurely.

Your face feels hot the moment he’s trying to get the two of you to leave back for the hotel— because your legs are absolutely not cooperating with you. 

“Holy shit, I was joking about that whole fuck you till you can’t walk thing,” he laughs, only to get cut of by the way you hit him in response— he’s letting out an exaggerated whimper at that, rubbing his arm and telling you sorry, sorry baby, with a cute pout.

“Ugh, I don’t want anyone to see me like this, fuck,” you mourn, only for Beomgyu to pull you into his side firmly, sending you a smile that’s not as reassuring as you wish it was. 

“I’m sure no one will notice,” he says simply, swinging the door open and immediately being met with Soobin passing by. 

He slows down at the sight of you two, glancing at your appearances briefly before he keeps walking. 

“Try to keep it down next time please,” he yells out, turning the corner and disappearing from your sight before you can retaliate. You feel slightly mortified by his words, but Beomgyu isn’t affected in the slightest as he leans over to murmur softly into your ear.

“Should we continue this at the hotel, pretty?”

You don’t answer his question. But he already knows the answer, sending you a giddy smile and intertwining his fingers with yours as he leads you to where the staff car is waiting for you two— and you hold back a smile of your own as you trail (limp, kinda) behind him. It’ll be a long night, but you couldn’t ask for a better way to spend your anniversary, no matter how unconventional it is.

[dear-bunnyboo]

hey!! I absolutely love your fics 💕 can I please request for you to write a crossover fic. Like, it begins with y/n and her relationship with either Trevor or Jack and he cheats with y/n and their breakup is very public cause y/n is famous and then it skips months later and she is spotted joe burrow and rumors go around that they are dating!!! I would love for this idea to turn into a one shot or better yet a SERIES!!

been loving the requests i am getting lately and this might top everything… love a good crossover between two worlds!!!

important note: my face claim will be madison beer but you can imagine whoever you desire. also the songs mentioned are not all technically all madison’s i will be incorporating other songs from other artists.

all the pictures seen below are not mine, however they were edited by yours truly. credits to the owners.

short fic! this will be a prologue before everything starts and no Joe in this one— not yet anyway. i want to build the story first before they finally meet ;)

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐄: 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄 || 𝐉𝐎𝐄 𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐖

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Joe Burrow x Singer!Reader / Brief Ex!Jack Hughes x Singer!Reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: A three year long relationship between your long term boyfriend, hockey star Jack Hughes meets its very public end.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: angst, cursing, cheating, emotional breakdown, cheater!Jack Hughes, media, paparazzi, haters, gossip, rumors

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 || 𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 || 𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐜. 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 || 𝐍𝐇𝐋 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Numb

You felt numb.

Yet why do you feel— Pain?

then— Sadness,

Betrayal,

and, Anger.

Heartbreak was strange.

A strange feeling that makes you feel so much.

Your heart was shattered to pieces, with no idea on how to piece it back together— it was broken.

Yet, you felt every single thing.

Every emotion. Every frustration. Every regret.

You sat on your kitchen floor with your phone clutched in your hands. Your tears slowly yet surely dropped on the lit screen as you remain motionless.

Today was an extremely busy day for you.

You spent almost the entire day in the studio preparing for your upcoming album.

You loved your job.

You loved it so much, you wouldn’t let anything distract you when you are in the middle of either recording, producing or writing lyrics— which is why you had your phone off.

Your phone remained off till you gotten home and opening it back up was the worst thing you could have ever done.

The first thing you noticed was the flood of notifications you have received— social media notifications from Twitter to Instagram. Then there was the messages from your friends, family, and your team— missed calls left and right.

Before you could even try and process what was going on, your manager sent you the same link everyone has been sending you for God knows how long.

Your fingers acted on their own accord and before you knew it, the video played.

It was Jack. Jack Hughes was your boyfriend of three years— you met Jack at one of his hockey games where he managed to ask for your number right after.

The rest was history.

And it seems like it would remain a history.

Your couldn’t pry your eyes off your phone screen. The video showed Jack with a blonde woman— this would normally not bother you. You trusted Jack.

You really shouldn’t have.

Before you could blink the pair were making out.

Your heartbeat was beating just as fast as your fingers were— moving to click another link.

It was another video where the woman was seen climbing onto his car covering her face because of the paparazzi that was surrounding them.

You were so focused on your phone that you didn’t even realize that you have slid down the kitchen wall landing yourself in the ground.

Articles after articles are being sent to you.

‘Y/N Y/L/N and Jack Hughes in Splitsville’

‘Was Y/N Y/L/N cheated on by beau Jack Hughes?’

‘Is it the end for Jack Hughes and Y/N Y/L/N after three years?’

He cheated.

Paparazzi saw him cheating.

He was kissing another woman.

You didn’t know what to do.

So you did the only thing you knew was right to do.

Opening your phone back up, you sent every video link and article link to Jack and after making sure he has seen it you blocked and deleted his number.

He cheated on you.

Yet it hurt to even delete his number.

He cheated on you.

Yet looking at the messages of his brothers and close friends to you pained you.

“Y/N, i have no idea why Jack would do that. Are you ok? Text me back please.” From Quinn.

“Y/N? I’m so sorry. Idk what has gotten into him. Please reply.” From Luke.

“I’ll fucking kill him. Y/N? Please answer my calls!” From Trevor.

You looked at the messages, numb— numb yet in pain.

You weren’t only mourning your three year relationship that Jack just ruined but you also grieved the friendships you knew would never be the same again.

Quinn and Luke were Jack’s brothers first and foremost. They might’ve not known or not agree and side with him but they’ll be forever be associated with him— Trevor was his best friend, almost his brother.

It would never be the same again.

And you hate Jack for that.

You hate that you love him enough to hate him.

You hate that he made you feel so much in so little time— so much that you felt your heart explode into pieces, it couldn’t take it.

You hate that you know it will take you years to recover from this.

You hate that he had to embarrass you in front of the whole world.

You hate him cause he’s making you doubt your self worth.

You hate him for being selfish.

He is selfish.

Selfish.

You hate him for being reckless with your heart that you willingly entrusted to him.

He is reckless.

Reckless.

Wiping your tears of your face you silently walked to your room— grabbing your pen and notebook.

Selfishly Reckless

Too Damn Selfish

Reckless with my Heart

Selfish.

Reckless.

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･

Twitter

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭:

ೃ⁀➷ comment or message me to be added to the tag list :)

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ SUBMIT A REQUESTS AND ASK ME ANYTHING!

: ̗̀➛ requests are always open ♡

-𝐛𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲ఌ

[astraystayyh]

hello 🤍 can i request chan comforting reader during a thunderstorm? thank you 🤍🤍🤍

Chan x reader. comfort and fluff. thank you for waiting <3

You’re sprawled on top of Chan's chest, your favorite cheesy movie playing in the background. You've watched it together five times already- you can probably recite some dialogue by heart by now. Still, you both can't help but giggle each time the main characters get too close to one another, gasping in shock as if it’s your first time seeing it.  

You are both wrapped around in a fuzzy blanket, bodies tightly pressed to one another. Your cups of finished hot chocolate are sitting on the nearby table tray. Chan's hand is on your back, and he taps it repeatedly with each funny scene unfolding on the screen, his laugh reverberating through your entire body.

Every touch, every chuckle of his filled you with an immeasurable sense of safety and warmth. In that instant, you wished you could stop the relentless march of time and stay in this moment forever. 

But then, thunder booms loudly, tearing apart the serene peace that surrounded you.

A shiver courses through your body, your heart now beating wildly in your chest. You try to still your breathing, hoping that Chan didn't notice your newfound nervousness. You never told him about this fear of yours, deeming it too irrational. 

But thunder rumbles once again, and you can no longer hide how your body tenses, fear freezing you in your place, your breathing suddenly erratic. 

"Baby, what's wrong?" Chan asks, his eyebrows furrowed in worry. He pauses the movie when you stay silent, standing up from his place so he'd be able to look at you properly. 

"Sweetheart?" he tries again and you clasp your hands together, trying your best to conceal your shaking fingers.

"I'm really scared of thunder," you admit breathlessly, bracing yourself for his reply. Chan doesn't waste another second, grabbing the blanket and pulling it over your heads, enveloping you in a quiet darkness. 

"Close your eyes," he murmurs, his large hands trailing up your face and cradling your ears, muffling the thunderous roars from you. 

You feel his breath fanning across your skin before his lips land softly on the tip of your nose. Then, your cheeks, your forehead and finally your eyelids. Soft kisses that make your nerves dissipate ever slowly. 

You lose track of time as all your senses are clouded- except for the gentle way in which Chan brushes his lips against you. He's being cautious with his touch, as his hands never leave your ears. You can tell he's whispering sweet nothings to you, but you can't clearly hear him. It feels as if you are underwater and he's calling out to you softly from the shore. 

Sometime later, Chan finally lifts the blanket from your heads, and you blink repeatedly, trying to adjust to the sudden light flooding your eyes. 

"It passed," he smiles reassuringly at you, and you nod. You couldn't speak, overwhelmed by your love for him, and a tinge of embarrassment. 

"Hey. It's okay, baby. You did well," he tells you gently, his thumb caressing your cheek with infinite tenderness. 

But then he glances at the clock and you feel yourself tense once again. He has to leave, responsibilities to cater to, but the thought of being alone right now terrifies you. 

"It's dark outside, isn't it?" Chan speaks again, cutting off your distraught train of thought. You gaze outside through your window- it's still light. It's only four pm. "And the walk from here to my studio is so long," he adds with a whine. It's not, it's only five minutes away. "I should probably stay the night, right?" he asks with a smile, and you nod timidly. 

"Let's finish this and then start a new movie, alright?"

"Yeah, I'd like that," you finally speak, as he pulls you back on top of his chest, his arms tightly wrapped around you as if to physically shield you from any of your fears. 

"Thank you for staying" you whisper, placing a tender kiss on his neck. "The world always feels less daunting with you here."

[moonhoures]

One Night Stand

🕷️ kinktober — day 2: anonymous sex / roleplay 🕸️

pairing: hoshi (svt) + reader (afab/fem)

genre: non-idol!au, fluff, smut

warnings: 18+, minors do not interact, explicit smut, established relationship, unprotected sex, vaginal penetration, quick mention of spitting on a dick, pet name: ‘gorgeous’ (for reader), creampie, roleplay, anonymous (?) sex

word count: ~2.5k

synopsis: you and hoshi have been married for a few years now. to keep the spark between you two alive, you decide to go out and have a one night stand

a/n: writing this nearly made me a hoshi stan so i hope it effects you like it did me. enjoy <3

posted: october 2, 2023

kinktober masterlist

Clubs were in your past, or so you had thought. You couldn’t remember the last time you had been in one; it had to be well over five years by now. Dancing and drinking were things you indulged in only on occasion nowadays, rather than every weekend like you used to. Since you finished college and started a steady career, you had slowed down a bit, even more so when you got in a serious relationship with your now-husband, Soonyoung.

Your husband was far from boring or conservative, but you found a comfort in each other that mellowed you two out. A sense of ease came with the normalcy that your relationship provided you. But with that normalcy also came routine. Soonyoung was a co-owner of a dance studio in the city, and you were a higher-up at a local marketing business. He got up at five a.m. to head to the gym before opening the dance studio, and you slept in until seven a.m. to be at work for nine.

The two of you would come home anywhere between five and seven p.m. depending on how busy you were. You enjoyed reading or watching a couple episodes of whatever show you were watching. Soonyoung would come home and review the videos he had taken of his choreography that day, or he would watch other people’s choreographies on social media for inspiration. On most nights, dinner time and the hour or so right before you fell asleep were all you had to be with each other. Your sex life was fine by most standards, but both of you had noticed it had dwindled in the past year or so with your work schedules growing more and more tight.

That’s how you ended up alone at a club one Saturday night. You sat at the bar, a few sips left of your favorite drink in front of you as you people-watched. There was another girl at the opposite end of the bar, probably freshly twenty-one if you had to guess. She was pretty, and she had an equally attractive guy hitting on her. Whatever he was saying was making her laugh, and it made you smile a little, your heart growing warm. You remembered when you were her at one point, years ago. Soonyoung was the guy making you laugh back then, always the best mood maker. You missed those nights.

“Excuse me,” a voice startled you, coming from someone closely behind your shoulder. Your head swiveled to see a man around your age with blond hair and sharp, slightly-slanted, dark eyes. He was around 5’10”, towering over your seated figure. He was dressed in a simple, chic outfit, fit for a night of going out and getting laid—which you assumed was his goal. The low-cut, white tank top he wore that exposed his collarbones certainly gave that impression, “Is this seat taken?”

The man gestured to the seat directly to your right, and you shook your head, “No, go ahead.”

“Are you here by yourself?” he asked as he sat, an almost concerned look in his eyes.

“Yeah,” you admitted, taking a sip from your drink. There was a ring of water left from the glass on the counter.

“Wow,” he smiled incredulously.

“What?”

“I just don’t understand how such a beautiful woman like yourself could be at a place like this alone. Are you waiting for someone?”

You smiled, warmth flooding your cheeks from his flattery, “No, I just came for a good time.”

“And are you? Having a good time, I mean?” he asked.

If you were honest, the answer would be no. You had only been here less than twenty minutes, but the closest thing you had to “fun” so far was the DJ playing your favorite song. You had tried to do some dancing when you first got here, but it felt weird knowing you were by yourself, so you tapped out after two songs.

“No,” you bashfully confessed, averting your gaze to escape the pitiful look he was sure to give you.

“Would you like to dance?”

Why not?

You took the hand he offered you, letting him lead you to the dance floor. And for the first time in years, you let go. You danced to your heart’s content, feeling more carefree and loose than you had felt in a long time. A grin settled on your face as you danced with the man that flipped your night upside down, a wide smile on his lips as he watched you dance with him. At one point you were grinding against him, his arms circling your waist. His forehead was pressed against yours. It felt like you two were the only ones in the room, the two main characters of your own movie while the DJ orchestrated the soundtrack just for you.

“You wanna go back to my place, gorgeous?”

The question was spoken directly into your ear so you could hear over the music, but you would be lying if you said his breath fanning over your neck didn’t make you shiver. Right now you wanted nothing more than to say-

“Yes.”

A ride in his fancy car later, down familiar roads, led you to a nice house right on the outskirts of the city. The man took your hand, your fingers naturally intertwining with his as he took out his keys and smoothly got the front door open for the two of you. He didn’t bother turning any of the lights on as he continued to lead you throughout the home, swiftly moving through the main hallway until he paused. He hesitated, glancing at the closed door to his right. His eyes held a playful look in them when he gazed at you over his shoulder before opening the door and bringing you into the room.

It was a mostly unused room from what you could see, one big, wooden desk was pushed up against the wall with only a laptop, a notebook, and a few assorted pens and pencils strewn on top. Aside from the desk, there was a desk chair, a sofa, a rolled-up yoga mat, and some other small sets of work out gear.

You watched as the man carelessly pushed the notebook and writing utensils to the floor across the room. He at least had a heart to nudge the laptop to the edge of the desk and close it. Before you could say anything, he was using his hands to hoist you up onto the desk, bunching your dress up higher on your thighs as he did.

“Are you always this careless?” you asked him, giving him a pointed look.

He merely shrugged, “It’s my roommate’s stuff anyways.”

You tried to keep your composure as his hands snaked under the edge of your dress, dangerously close to your underwear, “Oh, your roommate, huh?”

“Yeah,” he said absentmindedly, “It’s just shopping lists and stuff. Don’t worry about it.”

A giggle erupted from you as he buried his lips into the space of your neck, pressing kisses and teeth along the skin. It tickled there, and it’s almost like he knew that. While he distracted you, his hands expertly peeled your underwear off, letting them fall at his feet. It wasn’t until your rear was dragged practically off the edge of the desk that you realized how close he was getting to having you. All he needed to do was get his cock out.

“You want this, right?” he asked, looking for consent before going any further. His eyes were warm and genuine meeting yours, but he was met with only a flurry of lust-clouded eyes looking back.

“I need it,” you corrected him, bringing your hand up to the back of his neck. You pulled him in for a fiery kiss, a mesh of tongue and teeth and spit that was so messy but so perfect. He hummed in surprise at the sudden force, but you felt him smile against your lips before his hands reached up to hold your face while he showered you with more kisses.

In the midst of making out, you got ahold of his belt, tugging at the buckle until the leather slipped out of it easily. He grunted into your mouth as you swiftly pulled the belt undone and unzipped his jeans. Your fingers dug into the top of his pants, pushing the denim down, but you were met with a little resistance from his hips.

He took over, pushing the pants down to his ankles before kicking them aside. He then bunched your dress up higher on your waist. Your mouth watered watching him get a grip on his erection, the tip flushed and the shaft decorated with veins. You felt yourself already clenching on nothing, and it only got worse when he let a long glob of his spit fall straight onto his dick. He caught it effortlessly, as if he practiced this multiple times a day, and then used it to lubricate himself for you.

With his hand still pumping his cock, he looked at you, tilting his head just the slightest, “Open up for me.”

You didn’t even need him to elaborate, you simply widened your knees, allowing him to take your thigh in his hand. He held you just like that as he fed the tip of his dick between your folds, a wanton moan involuntarily leaving his lips. As he continued to seat himself inside of you, you held back, biting your lip.

“God, you’re so tight,” he said, tilting his head back before looking back down where you two met. He watched himself slowly pull out before bucking his hips forward again. The desk rattled the tiniest bit, and he loved the sound it made. Some primal part of him wanted to fuck you until the desk broke, but the rational, clear-headed part kept him cool.

His thrusts grew in pace and accuracy, aiming to find your g-spot with every stroke. It only took a few tries before he found it, your eyes nearly rolling back and your jaw going slightly slack when he did. A satisfied grin appeared on his lips, and he continued to thrust in that specific pattern that he pioneered. He held you at the waist, keeping you in the position he wanted as he dove between your hips again and again. The desk was shoved against the wall with every movement, sure to make marks on the pale structure, but neither of you cared enough. It can always be repainted.

“Gonna cum for me, gorgeous? Huh?” he spoke through bated breaths, absolutely eating up the way moans were freely cascading from your mouth as if you couldn’t stop them even if you wanted to. As if he had fucked you into a babbling idiot, “You wanted me to show you a good time. Is this not good enough?”

His voice was patronizing but also as sweet as honey. His hand reached up to cup your cheek, urging you to look him in the eye. But it was difficult to look at him steadily when he was pounding into you the way he was, making your entire body bounce.

“N-no,” you managed to say, “So good. Perfect.”

“Perfect,” he repeated with a short laugh, “That’s right.”

Wood creaked underneath you and thumped against the wall behind you, but the man fucking you still grabbed your thighs, hoisting them up a little. The kisses on your shoulder lightened up as he focused on getting you to finish. He was going to ask if you were close, but when your breath quickened and your lower back arched, he knew he had thirty seconds (tops) to prepare for your orgasm to hit. He kept the same pace and force he had, letting it coax the climax out of you. His pride swelled as he felt you clench on him, multiple times, while you came. Warmth and arousal flooded your core, leaving his cock wet and dripping when he pulled out. A mix of your clear fluid and his creamy seed slathered on him.

“Fuck,” he breathed out, his palm soothing over the skin of your thigh, from your knee down to your hip. He was trying to loosen your legs up so that you could relax, “How was that?”

“You definitely know how to show a girl a good time,” you mumbled, making him laugh.

“Yeah, well, it’s a one-time thing for me, sorry to disappoint.”

You sighed, “I knew it was too good to be true.”

He laughed some more, placing a kiss on your temple before landing a gentle slap on the side of your rear, “Let’s go clean up. Then you’re out of here in the morning.”

You chuckled, letting him help you down onto your feet. The two of you quickly made your way to the bedroom, and he picked out clothes for the both of you to wear before you headed into the shower. After cleaning up, you two got comfortable in the large bed, and he didn’t shy away from spooning with you like you expected him to.

When you woke up the next morning, the space beside you was empty, but the smell of breakfast being cooked wafted down the hall to you. You groaned as you stretched your limbs out, peeling the sheets back so you could get out of bed. Your feet shuffled against the floor all the way to the kitchen where you saw your husband standing at the stove. A towel was draped over his shoulder while he prodded at the bottom of some pancakes with a spatula. You tried to stifle a laugh when you saw his unruly bedhead, but a small squeak escaped you, notifying him of your appearance.

Soonyoung’s face lit up, “Good morning, gorgeous! Sleep well?”

“Sure did,” you smiled, walking up to him so you could give him a morning kiss on his cheek, “You?”

“Like a baby,” he smirked, flipping the pancakes over to reveal perfectly golden, fluffy discs, “Oh, and uh, sorry about the spare room. I’ll clean that up in a bit.”

You rolled your eyes, but your grin remained, “Yeah, just be thankful you didn’t knock over my laptop, or we would have had an issue.”

After a few moments of comfortable silence, only broken by the sound of you gathering plates and cups for you two, Soonyoung spoke up again, “Did you have fun last night?”

“Yeah, I did,” you felt your cheeks grow warm under his glance, recalling what took place in the club and the spare room, “It felt a little weird, but in a really good way.”

“Yeah? How so?” he asked, setting the pancakes on a plate and grabbing a fork for you.

“It felt like we were in college,” you said, leaning your cheek against his arm as you side-hugged him, “It felt like I fell in love with you all over again.”

“Good, that was the point,” he smiled, kissing your temple. He added, “And I did too. Fall in love with you all over again. We should do that again some time.”

“Yeah, we should.”

— taglist #1

@jaylaxies @xiaoting999 @kookthief @zaddywilk @wonrangwoo @pedriswrld @ikykleeknowww @odisdad @abby-grace @jungwonloveer @pinklemonadeflav @celestialplatinum @luvkpopp @nlklstan @kisses4denji @jenos-eye-smiles @a-l-i-y-a @channiesprincess @bekah931215 @mrsdacherry @heerinnie @fairygirl18 @cinnikoi @im-ur-calico-cat @unlikelysublimekryptonite & i’ll tag my fav hoshi stans @hoshiseon and @hoshologies 🖤

[glitterjay]

jay request? he had a weverse live today, so imagine if you sent him a video of yourself and he accidentally played the first few seconds of it 👀😳

⭒ idrk what warnings to put on this one so, uh, suggestive content under the cut mdni!

⭒ c's note: live laugh love jay

⭒ taglist: @hollyoongs @moon7jay @wondipity @defnotfertilizedtoesw @kwiwin

jay decided it was time to spend some time with engene. he got himself into one of the studio rooms in the agency building and turned on the live stream. he was having a good time catching up with his fans, reading through every comment, and laughing at those he found silly.

you received the notification from weverse. you hesitated at first, thinking it could have been any other member. jay usually told you when he would go live so you could watch it, but you didn't get anything this time.

you opened it regradless. maybe it was heeseung showing a new playlist, or sunoo could be singing his heart out. to your surprise, the man on the other side of the screen was none other than your boyfriend.

you tried not to think too much about not getting a notice beforehand. It could have slipped his mind. you sat there as you watched him talk and laugh at the screen. every time he turned toward his guitar, you could perfectly see the birthmark that adorned his neck. not only that, but his hair was long enough to fall over his eyelashes, making him look even more attractive.

your legs started brushing against each other as you thought about how you could mark the spot where jay's birthmark lay, making it more noticeable. despite all the comments calling him handsome, you were the only one who could touch him. he was all yours, to yourself.

five minutes went by, and an idea popped into your head. you closed the love momentarily, quickly pulling out your laptop to open it there. you positioned yourself so that your core was right in front of the screen, and recorded yourself as you played with your clit with your boyfriend talking in the background.

you sent it to jay without hesitation and waited peacefully for a reaction. your hand was moving slower, not wanting to come undone before seeing how your boyfriend would react.

jay excused himself as he moved out of sight for a moment, looking through the messages that showed on his phone screen. he smiled when he saw your name, using the lame excuse that his mom had asked him what he was doing.

he made sure the sound was completely off when he pressed play on the video.

his jaw hung open, his eyes full of hunger, and there was a visible change in his posture and aura. he moved the chair closer to the desk so that his lower half was no longer visible and set his guitars aside. he cleared his throat and kept trying to act normal.

you, on the other hand, noticed how his breath was starting to pick up, how his left hand wouldn't see the light of day, or how he'd roll his eyes from time to time. you knew him just well enough to know he was playing with himself under the desk. bingo.

jay excused himself once more, picking up the phone that was resting on his lap and typing away on it. your phone rang as soon as jay's attention returned to the comments flooding the live.

songie 💘

making me hard during a live... your cunt and I will have a real talk when i get home.

oh, and you're not allowed to talk, touch, or cum until i say so.

© glitterjay | tumblr

sheeesh, this took me a while... feedback, suggestions, new ideas, requests, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[rachalixie]

stray kids reactions | when you’re sad

how the boys act when you are experiencing depression/depressive symptoms

warnings: stray kids x gender neutral reader, depression/mental health, mentions of food

genre: hurt/comfort

word count: < 3k

a/n: for my love @ moonacholy. i love you baby :( feel better real soon, okay? also this is a broad spectrum of depression symptoms, nothing too extreme! mostly comfort than anything else.

chan

you don’t move as you hear the front door open and close; the thought of shifting from your curled up form on the couch sounded more exhausting than it was worth. you normally loved greeting chan at the door, loved kissing him hello and dragging him to bed when he gets home late but you can’t unglue your limbs from one another enough to even sit up, let alone walk all the way to the door. 

your eyes drift to the clock on the wall as you take in the time and realize that you should have already been in bed hours ago. you never wait up for chan when he gets home past midnight, and yet you are wide awake at 3 in the morning, having laid here since noon after he left to go to the studio. your phone lays dead on the table in front of you, untouched for hours, and you just now notice how tired your eyes feel.

“sweetheart?” chan’s voice floats to your ears, loosening your tightened muscles a bit. chan’s here now, he can take care of you, your tired brain supplies. you hum as he approaches, closing your eyes when his hand runs through your hair and whimpering softly when it leaves. the couch dips by your head as he sits next to you, his warmth already reaching your cold heart and thawing the edges a bit. “you’re not in bed yet?”

“can’t,” is all you can say. you don’t have the words or the energy to tell him that you didn’t even realize you should have been asleep, you didn’t realize how many hours had passed as you just laid there staring at nothing.

but he understands.

he pulls you up, catching you when your sore limbs buckle under your sudden upright weight, and he leads you to your bedroom, depositing you on your side of the bed. he leaves and comes back with a bottle of water before you can blink, pushing a straw into your mouth and coaxing you to drink, praising you when you take a few tentative sips. you feel a little silly by how good it feels, him telling you how good you are just for drinking water, but you let it drape over you like a comforting blanket as your mind finally loses the battle against sleep and you drift off in the comfort of his voice.

minho

“hi honey,” minho’s voice floods your brain from where you’re still curled up in bed. it’s well past noon, past the time where you were supposed to meet him at your favorite coffee shop in town during his lunch break. you feel a pang of guilt that makes you curl up even more, soft despair settling into your bones. you want him to leave. you want him to never leave you alone again. 

his hand finds the nape of your neck, massaging there gently before his fingers run up to your scalp. the action soothes you, and you can’t help but find comfort in him even though you’ve just let him down. you don’t even know why he’s here, taking care of you when he should be out doing something else-

“whatever’s going on in that pretty head of yours, stop it.” he orders, sitting next to you on the bed and tilting your chin up so he can meet your eyes. “i love you, okay? i want to be here with you. i want you, during the good times and the bad.”

it’s like he’s read your mind.

next thing you know he’s easing you into a seated position and massaging the feeling back into your fingertips. you hadn’t even realized they had fallen asleep until he started, and you wince as the pins and needles sting against his touch. he’s pulling you up then, waiting a moment for your eyes to adjust to the shift before tugging you into your bathroom. before you know it, your clothes are off and you’re under a hot steam of water, his hands on you in the most comforting way as he massages shampoo into your hair and rinses the day off of your body. he’s humming idly, his soft voice echoing off the shower tiles and absorbing into your brain. you feel like a sponge, taking all of his love and keeping it inside of you like it’s the one thing that’s keeping you upright. 

as he dries you off with a fluffy towel, you lean in to press a soft kiss to his cheek, causing the tips of his ears to burn pink; it’s silly that such an innocent gesture makes him blush like that, but you think of it as an physical imprint of your love on him, your gratefulness, everything you want to say but can’t. 

changbin

“we’re going outside,” changbin suddenly announces, his voice deep under your ear from where your head is snuggled into his chest. you jump a bit, peering up blearily at him.

“outside?” you ask, voice slow and confused. you had been content laying there with him all day. you preferred that, in fact. you had no desire to move, no energy to make your muscles work, no motivation inside of you to do anything other than lay and hope the day passed soon so you could go to bed.

so why is changbin saying that you’re going outside?

“yes, outside. up, up!” he’s too enthusiastic, his voice is too loud in your mushy head, and you glare up at him with squinted eyes.

“have to?” you say, knowing that you’ll lose this battle against a man who can physically pick you up and make you go outside if he wanted to.

“have to.” he nods, interlacing his fingers in yours and yanking, bicep flexing, wrapping his arms around you tight when you stand up on wobbly legs. he holds you there for a second, letting you breathe him in before he pulls you through your house, out the back door and into the backyard.

the worst part was that the air felt good. the soft breeze on your face felt so refreshing, washing over you like a brand new day. the soft grass felt nice under your feet, your toes curling into the cool blades. his hand was warm in yours, guiding you around the perimeter of the fence, walking and walking until you begin to feel the band around your temples loosen, the furrow of your brow unwind, the tenseness of your muscles deflate, like you’re a puppet whose strings were loosened just enough for you to garner some control.

“better, yeah?” he said, soft and satisfied. you him in response, squeezing his hand as you keep walking.

hyunjin

you sigh as you enter through the front door, body weighed down and leaden and each step feeling like a mile from the way they made you exhausted. you immediately collapse onto your couch and click the TV onto the kdrama you’ve been using as background noise for the past few weeks. the episode continues from where you left off, and your eyes don’t leave the screen even though you’re not absorbing any of the content. its just swirling colors and words in a box to you right now, your brain is not comprehending anything, but it’s a nice distraction from the swirling thoughts that were there before.

even when hyunjin leaves your room to pad over to you, draping himself beside you on the couch and wrapping an arm around you, your eyes remain on the screen.

and you sit. and sit. the minutes were ticking away, slow as ever, and you just sit.

until hyunjin turns the TV off, and you don’t even complain because it had gotten to the point where your eyes hurt. you relax into him, startled when he moves to stand up instead, leaving you slumped into the cushions instead of him. 

“dance with me,” he says, putting a song on his phone and setting it on the side table. you blink up at him from where he’s standing, hand outstretched waiting for you to take it. he tilts his head a bit when you don’t move, smile encouraging and eyes in crescents, and you sigh and take his hand. you let him pull you up and move your hands around his shoulders as he takes your waist, and he leads you as you both gently sway and step to the beat of the song. 

with each step, you felt lighter and lighter, the lead weights you were feeling before disappearing with each breath you can feel on your neck from where his face is pressed. the music he has playing is swirling around you both in a flurry of notes and chords, the rhythm you’ve set with your steps is soothing, and you feel more content in this moment than you’ve felt in days.

jisung

“baby?” you hear from outside your bedroom door, stirring you out of your fitful nap. you never fell into sleep, you’ve been lying there for hours with your eyes closed and you couldn’t sleep. you’re so tired. 

you hear him knock again and a whimper leaves your throat when you try to answer. the words won’t come out, they’re stuck, trapped down deep. he opens the door anyways, closing it gently behind him before walking slowly over to you and kneeling by you. his hand brushes your hair back, stopping in surprise when he sees that your eyes are open. 

“thought you were asleep?” he says, voice soft and timid in the darkness of your room. you shrug, lips twisting into a frown. is it bad that you were awake? that you were awake and hadn’t left your room, even though you knew he was home for hours? “well, if you’re not, then-”

he cuts himself off as he climbs right into your bed, slithering under your covers and plopping himself right on top of you. his chest covers your back, his legs tangle with yours, and he presses his head into your neck, fluttering small kisses there until he can hear your breath catch on a laugh.

“get off of me, jisung,” you croak out, the first words you’ve muttered all day. the smell of his shampoo is invading your senses, his cologne is seeping into your skin. 

“if my baby gets to stay in bed all day, they i get to stay there too.” he declares, squeezing you tight, better than a weighted blanket, trapping all the bad things inside and replacing them with his good.

“can’t breathe,” you choke out in another laugh, the noises you make sounding foreign to your ears. has it really been so long since you’ve laughed? smiled like this?

he rolls off of you suddenly, pulling you along so you were trapped on top of his chest instead, the blanket rolling along with you and wrapping you both in tight. 

“better?”

“yeah, sung. i’m better, now.”

felix

he passes you a whisk, looking pointedly at you when you don’t move to the counter where he’s standing. you roll his eyes at him before finally moving your feet, standing from where you’ve been sitting at the kitchen island on a barstool watching him work. he has dinner ready on top of the stove, and a bowl of brownie ingredients on the counter waiting for you to mix together.

“c’mon, love,” he says, perking up a bit when you finally get the whisk inside of the bowl. “we can’t have dinner without dessert, hmm? and we can’t have dessert without you. the most important ingredient in the recipe.”

“lix,” you whine, voice tired and a little furled around the edges. i’m not important, you want to say. “i’m not an ingredient,” is what you say instead.

“oh, really?” he said, reading right through you. he arches a delicate brow at you before moving behind you while you’re whisking to wrap his arms around your middle. he presses his cheek to your shoulder, nuzzling it there like a cat. his lips find your jawline, where he lays a few wet kisses there. “then why do you taste so sweet? sweeter than chocolate. and you’re tough, like unmelted butter. and don’t forget sharp, like cocoa powder.”

his words dig into your brain, battling against the negative thoughts that have been living there for weeks. your self doubt, your insecurity, your low mood fight against them, trying to tell you that he’s lying, he’s just saying that, he doesn’t really mean it. but the longer he stays there, his skin right up against yours, the more those thoughts get beaten down, slayed by the blades of sugar in his voice.

he dips his finger into the finished batter, sliding it into his mouth and swirling it off with his tongue. 

“mm, i was right. you taste much better than this.”

seungmin

your feet drag as you walk to your apartment, exhausted from just the one class you had today for no reason at all. it was fine, but even getting out of bed this morning was almost impossible. you felt absolutely drained by the time you got to your lecture, and you don’t think you absorbed a single piece of information for the entire hour and a half you were there. 

when you finally made it through the front door, you felt as if there was a pile of bricks in your bag weighing you down, and you quickly dropped it to the floor in favor of collapsing onto the couch next to seungmin. he looked cozy, dressed in an overside hoodie and sweatpants, glasses perched high on his nose and a smart looking novel in his hands. you wiggle your head underneath his arms and press your head to his thighs, feeling bad about taking up his reading time but not willing to stand another second being alone. you’ve been so lonely, all day. he made you feel lighter already, just by his presence, the pressure on your shoulders and around your temples beginning to fade already with his touch.

“bad day?” he asks, not drawing his eyes away from his book but moving one hand to card through your hair, fingers light on your scalp. you hum, not wanting to explain to him that this was just one bad day in a series of bad days, that it wasn’t any better or worse than the last yet you felt even more exhausted by the end of it than you had the day prior. you didn’t want to tell him that you felt tethered to him like he was your lifeline, the one think keeping you afloat in a sea of helplessness. 

“read to me?” you say instead, wiggling a bit as you get comfortable in his lap and looking up at him with wide eyes. he looks down finally, expression softening when he takes in your face, and he nods with a soft smile before beginning the chapter again just for you.

jeongin

when he finds you spread over the couch, arm hanging limply over the edge and eyes glazed over from looking at the ceiling, you don’t even realize how much time has passed since he left for work. he’s already home? you swear it had only been an hour, or two max. 

“did you eat?” he asked, walking over to you and pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, letting his lips linger for a moment, a stamp of compassion. 

“no,” you said, only realizing now that you hadn’t eaten all day. the sun was setting outside, bathing the room in a golden glow, and you couldn’t bring yourself to be hungry, let alone make food and eat it. he clicked his tongue, fox eyes narrowing before leaving your side completely. you sigh at his absence, knowing that he was going to get a snack that you simply wouldn’t want to eat.

“ramen, soup, or grilled cheese?” he asks, materializing in front of you, holding a pack of noodles and a can of soup in one hand and a bag of week-old bread in another. you’re honestly surprised it hasn’t molded yet; probably helps that you haven’t even opened it since you bought it.

“none. i’m not hungry,” you say, crossing your arms and curling up into yourself. you’re sure that you’re pouting, making the picture of an angry toddler with your bunny slippers on your feet and your hoodie swathing your frame. you don’t care. he leaves the room with a sigh again, making you deflate into the couch cushions; you thought he would have fought a little harder, but it’s not his responsibility to make sure you feed yourself, is it?

he startles you out of your pity when he sits next to you, the sofa dipping under his weight and the warmth of his thigh feeling nice next to your head.

“up,” he instructs, nudging at your shoulder until you sit up simply to stop him. he’s holding a half-eaten tub of your favorite ice cream in one hand, two spoons in the other, and he’s wearing a big smile on his face. “i know we’re not supposed to be eating ice cream for dinner, but it’s not like chan hyung is here to say no, is he?” 

you grab a spoon wordlessly when the thought of ice cream doesn’t make your stomach turn. one bite couldn’t hurt, right?

the encouraging smile he gives you when you tentatively take one bite doesn’t hurt, either.

masterlist

taglist: @daceyena @isilentprincess @woahfruity @chvnnie @katieraven @agustd-essert @chanssmiles @sweetestcherrywine @foivetimesacharm @sstarryoong @bakugossanity @skzho

[hsr-texts]

find your cinderella

꒰‧₊˚✩彡‧꒱ ┊ ━━━━ prologue

꒰⸝⸝₊ʚ♡ɞ ┊ streamer!reader x mystery hsr character ꒱

꒰⸝⸝₊ʚ♡ɞ ┊ otome event ꒱

꒰ ☰ WORD COUNT ┊1.4k ꒱

꒰ ☰ DESCRIPTION ┊ ━━ When you do an unboxing livestream for your subsribers, you find an invite to an exclusive event called the "Find Your Cinderella" masquerade gala where you are guaranteed to find your supposed true love, as a rather enthusiastic manager told you. ꒱

꒰ ☰ NOTES ┊HIII omg you guys THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE SUPPORT!! Getting 1k followers is so crazy for me because I've never had a blog be received with this much love and support before so I've decided to make an extra special otome game style fanfic! ꒱

“Guys, look! The package just came in!”

You rushed into your studio, holding a sizable metal box. Inscribed on the sides was a logo of two masks, resembling a certain Aeon. Placing it down on the floor, you gave a sigh of relief. “Aeons, that was heavy!”

Your eyes glanced at the live chat and saw all the messages, curious about the package.

“Seems like you guys are more excited than I am,” You couldn’t help a small chuckle leaving your lips. “It took me quite a lot to get a hold of this limited edition package from LumiPro. Like, do you guys know how much it cost?”

A few comments popped up trying to guess the price.

You shook your head. “100,000 credits.”

The chat then flooded with shocked emotes and comments. It was more than a fair reaction. You found yourself silently thanking the stars that your current occupation as a streamer granted you a steady income. Otherwise, you probably would’ve had to eat the same type of cup noodles for months.

“Anyway!” You clasped your hands together. “Let’s open it up already! I’m dying to see what’s inside. What could possibly warrant such a steep price?”

Your index finger pressed on the button at the top and heard a voice.

“Vocal identification. Please state your name.”

You uttered your name. It was a good thing you added an auto-censor to your setup so that any sensitive information that could get you doxxed would be redacted in the stream. You didn’t want stalkers showing up at your home after all.

“Permission granted.”

Faint clicks of metal against metal could be heard as the mechanisms worked to unlock the box. A hissing noise came from it as the lid opened. You watched, feeling anticipation and eagerness bubble within your chest.

A hologram was projected from the box, showing a person wearing professional attire. They smiled.

“Thank you for purchasing from Luminous Productions. We’ve curated a package that we believe would be of most use to you. For further questions, you may contact support on our site. We hope you enjoy it to the fullest.”

You took a peek and gasped at the sight. “Guys, oh my god, they just gave me a new PC!”

They must’ve done their research because you did mention in your stream a month ago that you were looking for a better PC.

The chat seemed to be as excited as you were, knowing this meant you’d be able to go back to your regular streaming schedule.

You could tell this was a real high end PC after seeing the graphics card and CPU model. Not only that, but it came with a new headset, keyboard, and mouse. You took out the stuff and gently placed them on the floor, letting the viewers see it.

After noticing that there was more in the package, you rummaged around for the other objects. Your hand made contact with some sort of fabric so you pulled it out.

Your eyes widened as you realised that it was a fancy outfit. Upon looking, you could estimate that it was your size too. Was this tailor made?

“Holy shit…”

It seemed like it was for a real special occasion, not even just your run-of-the-mill party that regular people go to. This outfit would probably fit right in with a red carpet event for rich folks or celebrities. Well— One may say, “Hey, aren’t you a celebrity too?” but you weren’t cocky enough to claim the same status as those with inter-galactic levels of fame.

A slip of paper fell out of the outfit’s pocket and you turned to see what it was.

You squinted in confusion. A ticket…? After picking up, you couldn’t help but notice the holographic shine to it first. How pretty.

“Find Your Cinderella Masquerade Event?” You mumbled in confusion. Who was Sugo? You couldn’t recall knowing anyone that went by that name.

Suddenly, the screen flickered for a moment and a new window popped up next to your stream.

A person showed up, wearing what you could only describe as a pink clown outfit that somehow combines cuteness and gaudiness in one. They grinned at you with amusement.

“Heya to all those viewers watching at home!” Even the way they spoke seemed to have a theatrical ring to it. By the way the chat was going insane, the people watching the stream could also see them.

“My name is Sugo and I’m the event organiser of the Find Your Cinderella Gala, or the FYC Gala for short,” they introduced themselves with a flourish. “Pleasure to meet you.”

“Uh… hi?” You didn’t know how to respond. This was quite a bizarre experience to have someone hijack your stream to introduce themselves. Was this legal…?

They chuckled. “Yeah, sorry for the sudden appearance but I figured that it would shake things up a little. I’m sure your dear fans appreciate having two exciting things happening at the same time. You can bet that this’ll go viral too~”

“Right… So what exactly is this Find Your Cinderella Gala?”

“Glad you asked, dear anomaly!” They beamed. Eh? Why were they calling you anomaly?

“See, I’m doing a collaborative project with LumiPro. I proposed to them a large-scale event with celebrities from all over the galaxy, which would be broadcast to every streaming platform out there. The premise is simple, all attendees are there to find their one and only, their true love, their Cinderella, you get the idea.”

“So it’s a speed dating event for rich people?” Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. It sounded like a stupid idea. And yet, a part of you was intrigued.

“Right on the money! What a clever streamer, it’s no wonder you got such high compatibility ratings with the other attendees~”

“A what?”

Their eyes gleamed with amusement. “So, we didn’t just pick the celebrities at random. I bet you’re wondering why a small time streamer is getting an invite to such an exclusive event, right?” They tilted their head, leaning on their desk.

You nodded slowly. It was still a mystery to you why you’d be invited when there are far more famous people in the galaxy.

“Behind the scenes, we’ve been developing an advanced algorithm that can find your best match in a group. How it works is that we pick a participant, feed it available information on said participant, then it calculates how well the person would get along with those within the group,” they explained, “What’s interesting for your case is that your average compatibility score with the group is 90%. Most folks that got tested only came up with a 60% average compatibility rating.”

You raised an eyebrow at this in skepticism. “Don’t you think that’s just a bug or something?”

They shrugged. “It could be, but we’ve done several tests and it always came out the same. We were hoping to add you in to act as an outlier to our pool of data.”

“So I’m just a guinea pig for your weird little experiment?” You gave them an unamused look.

“It’s just to see if your results were really true or if it was just a mistake on the algorithm’s part.” They shrugged. “I’m sure it’ll be a fun time for you regardless of my motives. A win win for all parties involved, don’t you just love that kind of thing?”

“I guess but doesn’t this come with strings attached?”

Sugo whined. “Ughhh, you’re gonna make this way less fun if you go in already knowing what you’re getting!”

“What kind of sane person would do something without knowing the full details?!”

A groan came from them. “Booo, that’s so boring! Life needs a special surprise factor that keeps things fun and interesting.”

They sighed after. “But fine. If you’re so skeptical, then I can throw in a 500,000 credit compensation if you end up not enjoying it. So even if you do lose, you still gain something!”

You stayed silent, trying to figure out if this was really worth the trouble of dressing up and going to a party.

“Anyway, that’s all the information I’m contractually allowed to give out. It’s your choice whether you want to go or not.”

“Can I have some time to decide this?” You asked them.

Sugo nodded, smiling in amusement. “Of course! It’s not good for a show to spend too much time on exposition, after all. Let’s give the player some time to shine, hm?”

“I have no idea what you’re saying.”

They giggled, ignoring what you said. “Bye bye! I’ll see you at the gala!”

Their window disappeared, leaving you with your viewers again.

You sighed. What a strange person. Did you really wanna go? It’s not like you had much to lose. Plus, you would be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t want to find out what that compatibility rating was all about.

“What do you think, chat? Should I go?” You turned to the screen, waiting for their input.

[malarign]

studio nights

(when you help him write lyrics for his new single)

contains: idolbf!Jake x fem!reader | genre: a little bit of angst and a little bit of fluff | tw! crying | wc: 0,6k

reblogs, likes and comments are highly appreciated!!!

author’s note: guess who is back 😼 honestly as a musician, it is probably the most disappointing part - not being able to come up with any good melody or just being unsatisfied with your work, but i guess all creators can agree on that :’)

Jake buried his face in the palms of his hands as yet another phrase slipped his mind. He never thought writing lyrics would be so difficult yet here he is hopeless since all the good words seemed to be nonoperative. Not only lyrics were his problem, but all the melodies also didn’t sound as good as he wanted. He thought all those years of musical education and violin playing would be helpful but somehow made it even worse, setting expectations so high, it was almost impossible to reach.

Suddenly the sound of a new message notification resounded in the quiet studio. He immediately reached for it thinking it could be you. Thankfully it was.

y/nie 💞: hi my love! are you done or should I come over?

He thought for a while and bit his lip. The last thing he wanted is you to see him in that state. His hair was messy, he didn’t shave for a while, and his eyes bloodshot red from crying and being in front of a computer for a whole day. The only moment he left the studio was to go to the toilet and when Jungwon asked him if he had maybe seen their choreographer.

He finally decided to just apologize for being at work until late hour once again.

His phone lit up again showing another message from you.

y/nie 💞: well too bad cuz i’m already at hybe :)

The message made him freeze. He really didn’t want you to see him like that, having a feeling that you were going to scold him for not taking proper care of himself. He quickly grabbed his phone to take a quick shower before you came only to see you as soon as he opened ten door. He noticed the bag of his favorite snacks and a bright smile on your face, which slowly faded away as you saw how in bad shape your boyfriend was. He thought about how disappointed you were, not knowing the only person you were mad at was yourself, feeling guilty for letting that happen.

“My love…” you finally spoke and caressed his cheek lovingly. This faint touch made his lip quiver as tears started to flood his eyes.

You closed the door behind you for some privacy and engulfed him in a tight hug, that he needed so much.

“I feel like a failure. I can’t even come up with the easiest lyrics,” he cried trying to calm down at the same time.

“Jake, look at me,” you spoke and cupped his cheeks. “It’s okay to have a block, I know how difficult it is to write good lyrics and that’s why I’m always so proud of you and how far you’ve come. You never fail to impress me and many others.”

He nodded at your words which spoke to him perfectly and resolved his doubts.

“Thank you,” he simply said and smiled at you.

“Can I maybe help you? Can I see what you have already?”

A little skeptical about your idea he showed you his notes full of scribbles and crossed-off words. You took your time in reading his work and soon gave your feedback, which to your surprise seemed to untie some knots in his mind. You watched as he slowly nods and writes it down hastily, regaining his confidence thanks to both your comment and good remarks.

You spend long hours in that one small studio, thinking of good and catchy phrases and tunes in the hope that maybe both of your names are going to be listed in the final credits of the album.

thank you for reading! back to the masterlist

permanent taglist: (send an ask to be added) @nicholasluvbot, @en-chantedtomeetyou, @kpopstanmeg, @skzenhalove, @nfrgirl

[sl-vega]

♫ 00; ↠ TEAR DROPS ON MY GUITAR-(prologue)

↳ my heart beats for you-a scaramouche smau

The door of the CRUX swung open, the familiar jingle of the door chime sounded as you entered the building. You were greeted by some familiar faces frantically running around the room.

Some employees were rushing around, frantically trying to salvage what they could from the flood waters that had recently devastated the CRUX. Guitars lay broken and waterlogged on the floor, while sheet music and CDs floated in the murky puddles.

Kokomi and Furina were holding rusty buckets, and they placed them underneath leaky spots from the ceiling. Yoimiya was helping Mona move a busted keyboard outside, and Lumine was holding a box full of old records and CDs.

"Oi!"

You turned around to the source of the voice, it was another one of the employees. She had dark hair and deep blue eyes, she would've been awfully pretty if she wasn't too busy scowling at you.

"Hey Furong..."

"Don't "hey Furong" me!"

She shoved a heavy box in your arms, and another smaller (but still very heavy!) box on top of the one you were already carrying. "And get out of the door frame! Being Beidou's favorite won't earn you any special treatment from me."

"Speaking of which, do you know where-"

Furong stormed off to scold more of her fellow co-workers before you could finish your question.

"-she is..."

Lumine passed by you, her hands also full.

"Don't mind her, she's just jealous."

"Well who wouldn't be?"

Lumine chuckled before gesturing to the back of the store. "We're supposed to move the CD and record boxes to the studio, Beidou wants us to sort through all of them."

You nodded and let Lumine lead the way, your vision was obscured due to the boxes in your arms, so you had to rely on Lumine's directions to make your way into the CRUX's music studios.

"Archons, I don't know how much longer I can hold these things. Why the fuck are these boxes so heavy? They're CDs!"

You complained as you almost slammed yourself into a shelf for the hundredth time.

"Tell me about it." you heard Lumine groan. "I should've forced Aether to come, could've unloaded all this work on him."

"Like he'd actually do all that for you."

"Never said I had to be the one he was working for⁓"

You could hear the smirk in her voice, even though you couldn't see her expression. Your face started heating up, you were suddenly grateful for the boxes hiding your head. Lumine adored poking fun at her brother's crush on you, she'd lessened up with the jokes after your break-up, but alas, there was no escape from her wrath.

"Shut up..." you muttered, your face growing redder by the second.

"What? It's true ya know." she continued, she must've noticed your silence, which she mistook for discomfort rather than embarrassment.

"Okay, I'll stop."

You heard a door creak, which must have been Lumine opening the door to one of the studios in the building. You set down the boxes, feeling relief from the absence of the heavy objects in your arms.

You looked around the room, the studio wasn't a professional recording studio, not by any means. It was a simple room with a few power outlets and speakers, but it was more than enough for you and the rest of C✧LESTIA.

You and Lumine sat down on the floor, taking out some of the contents of the boxes and laid them out in front of you. Lumine sorted the piles by genre, while you sorted them by colour.

"You know, maybe this isn't so bad, there are only a few boxes, so it won't take as much time as I thought-"

Lumine's hopeful thoughts were cut short as Furong and her co-worker Xinyan, along with several other employees dropped ten more boxes in the room (and big ones at that!).

"Thanks you guys, you're the best!" Xinyan gave you a big thumbs up as she exited the studio with the rest of her co-workers.

"-I take that back" Lumine sighed, at the pile of brown cardboard cubes. "I really should've forced Aether to come here..."

The two of you heard the studio door creak open again.

"You girls need help?"

It was Furina! Along with all the other C✧LESTIA members too! The others joined you and Lumine on the floor and helped sort the records and CD's. You and the girls chatted for a bit, brief small-talk about school work and a few rumours that have been going around about your classmates.

You heard Yoimiya groan as she was rummaging through a box for a certain CD. "Lumineee! Why didn't you just ask your brother to come! He would've done all this for us!"

"Believe me, I wish I did." she sighed, and glanced over to you.

"Okay, what's with you guys and using Aether for free labour?" you joked. You had lost count of all the times Lumine had baited the poor boy into doing favours for her under the pretext that "(Y/N) would be so grateful if you did this for her!"

"He's my brother, and he still has a crush on you, who happens to be my best friend, who wouldn't take advantage of that?"

"He doesn't have feelings for me Lumine-"

"Ooo, who doesn't have feelings for (Y/N)?"

You whipped your head around after hearing a familiar voice come from behind you.

"Beidou!"

You stood up and tackled the older woman into a hug, she returned the gesture, ruffling your hair while doing so.

"Hey kid!" she pulled away from the hug to squish your cheeks together, which made your lips pout. "I missed you, ya know."

She looked towards the rest of C✧LESTIA, who were still on the floor, sorting CD's and records. "Thanks for doing this for me you guys., I appreciate it."

Suddenly, you could hear Mona clear her throat from her side of the room. "We're getting paid right?"

"Mona!" Kokomi exclaimed scolding her friend.

"What?"

"Nah it's fine, but I don't think I can afford to pay you guys properly, sorry 'bout that."

Mona sulked, clearly disappointed in the lack of rewards, though her expression quickly changed after Kokomi swatted her shoulder, clearly ashamed by the astrologist's behaviour.

"No Miss Beidou, it's fine really, you've already done so much for us." Furina said, expressing her gratefulness, making up for Mona's lack thereof.

"You letting us practice here is more than enough!" she continued. Furina glanced around the room, just realizing the terrible condition the room was in. "We'll still be able to practice here, right...?" she asked.

Beidou's expression darkened slightly, as she looked up at the ceiling, observing the leaks, and cracks, even without the flood affecting it, the studio was always in terrible shape.

She took a breath, "Sorry girls, but you'll probably need to find a new place to practice, and to perform."

Suddenly, you and your fellow bandmates let out a chorus of "What? Why?"s and several other expressions of disappointment and grief.

"This whole room looks like it's going to collapse any second, the last thing I need is a lawsuit because one of you guys got hurt." she sighed again. "I'm sorry girls."

"But hey! I'm sure Furina can use her actress connections to find you guys a new venue."

"I don't think the Opera Epiclese is looking for amateur rock bands, Beidou." Yoimiya said as she sighed, still sorting through the contents of the boxes.

You, and the others heard a faint voice in the distance calling for Beidou, it was probably Xinyan or Furong asking her for help.

"I'm coming!" she shouted back, before she left the room, she gave you another hug, this one longer and more tender.

"Don't worry, I'm sure you'll figure something out, you always do."

She opened the creaky studio door once more and waved goodbye to you and the rest of C✧LESTIA.

You decided to not tell Beidou how lost you were, and how there was no way you guys could afford to rent another studio, much less find a new place for gigs.

"I'm sure you'll figure something out!"

You hoped that she was right.

additional notes:

-GUYS I DID IT

-I FINALLY WROTE SMTH

-i am SO sorry for not posting any fics recently

-i lost motivation, and i had an exam to study for and lots of stuff has been happening lately

-BUT I'M BACK YOU GUYS

-(partially)

-anyways additional notes on the actual plot:

-it might seem a bit strange that lumine is joking about y/n's ex, but you and aether ended it on good terms so there's no malice in it

-ngl i'm starting to see a pattern where my prologues r super boring, srry abt that you guys

-xinyan being an employee at the crux just fits yk? and furong actually is a member of the crux crew in game, i just chose the first name i saw on the genshin wiki ngl

masterlist

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Pairing: [BASSIST!] Scaramouche x [GUITARIST!] Reader

Genre: rivals/enemies to lovers, rivals to friends to lovers, fluff, crack (?), comedy, angst (?), slowburn, high school au, band au, modern au, social media au, smau

Synopsis: You're the lead guitarist for your band, C✧LESTIA and Scaramouche is the bassist of 5WIRL. The two of your bands have a friendly rivalry, but you and Scaramouche don't. On top of being academic rivals, you and him have never been on good terms. Always one-upping each other in grades and in music. Even your bandmates have grown tired of your constant bickering with each other. But when your usual practice hub gets flooded, you and the rest of C✧LESTIA are forced to find a new place to rehearse. So when 5WIRL offers to share their studio with you who are you to refuse? Of course, this forces you to spend time with your sworn rival whether you like it or not. But maybe the two of you can overcome your differences and actually be friends?

Or maybe even more?

(OPEN) TAGLIST: @featuredtofu, @levianamor, @danfelions, @thatoneswordgirl, @lolmeowing, @bananasquash, @xiaosantenna, @glxssmemories, @kaitfae, @mujiwuji, @peaceindreams, @freyao7, @rinquinq, @justpeachyteastea, @ladyninggs, @b2ne, @skyoverkill1, @scaradooche, @morallyrainyday, @adres-tia, @justadvena6, @agaygothicmushroom, @huanator, @seaofdata, @kyon-cherri, @aether-darling, @ukinya, @sketcheeee, @ibawa, @shutingstar, @eutopiastar, @kunimix, @wonderful-worlds, @ectomotive, @yourfavoritefreakyhan

(names in bold mean i can't tag you)