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honeyhotteoks · 11 days ago

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in bloom - part one (j.yh + j.wy); section one

summary: one night, you and your boyfriend and your best friend are watching a movie, only you didn’t realize this movie would have a sex scene this long. or that they would notice how uncomfortable it made you. when you finally confess to them why, they take their time guiding you through every life experience you’ve always felt too late for, one kiss at a time. part one; section one | part one; section two | part two masterlist

note: this was inspired by my 🪻 anon who sent a suggestion about a yunwoo fic centered on loss of virginity. what was supposed to be an ask reply became a full fic. see under the cut for more detailed notes and disclaimers. part two coming soon.

warnings: virginity, late bloomer reader (she’s 26), demisexual!reader, complex relationships to sex, sexuality, and pleasure. fluff, angst, and emotional hurt/comfort, frank conversations about sexual experiences and norms including body hair and preferences, references to disassociation during sex but in the past, brief mention/question about sexual trauma (there is none), bisexual!wooyoung, bicurious!yunho, nervous / inexperienced reader, shy reader, embarrassed reader, slow and i mean SLOW sexual acts, lots of consent, kissing galore, nipple play, body worship, masturbation (f), fingering, oral sex (f receiving), oral sex (m receiving), hand jobs, yunwoo teaching how to and reader learning for basically ever sex act….. lots of soft pet names y'all know me, an extremely earned 'good girl'

pairings: boyfriend!yunho x best friend!wooyoung x fem!reader

genre: smut and more smut

word count: 18.9k

note! this post was too long for tumblr, be sure to read section two here! or check it out on ao3

disclaimer:

this fic deals with complex feelings around loss of virginity, the "right age" to lose your virginity, as well as exploring different kids of sexualities, specifically demisexuality though it is not named as such in the fic. I want to emphasize that there is no "right age" to lose your virginity, and virginity itself is a social construct, but our reader here is 26 and feels late and has a lot of shame around her relationship to sex and arousal. this is not to say that 26 is "late" or there's anything wrong with it, but there are moments in the fic that she is very unkind to herself and it's because she needs to unpack these feelings not because I believe them to be true. regarding demisexuality, I did my best to use my research and understanding of demisexuality to offer a different understanding of arousal for my character here. for her, she is awkward and uncomfortable with sex to the point that it feels foreign to her, and the way she experiences sexual desires or arousal is different to any characters i’ve written or what she sees in media. for her, she needs a romantic or emotional connection with someone to feel that desire, so of course enter our boys and some classic quiet yearning. if you are more educated on demisexuality than I am, and feel that this tag is misplaced on this fic, please let me know. I always seek to be a responsible writer, and want to be sure this is a safe and inclusive space for all. thank you, happy reading!

You’ve never understood sex in movies. It’s always full of heavy breathing, frantic pawing at each other, and the sounds. The sounds. There’s no way people in real life actually sound like that if they’re not acting, you can’t imagine it. The few times you’ve tried to watch porn made you feel the same way, uncomfortable and anxious.

So it doesn’t help that this action movie has an unexpected sex scene and it definitely doesn’t help that you're sandwiched on the couch between your boyfriend and your best friend.

The throwaway female character moans on screen, her head thrown back with a grimace of pleasure on her face and your hands tighten, your eyes looking down to avoid it completely.

At twenty-six years old, watching a sex scene in a movie shouldn’t make you want to curl up in your own body and die, but here you are. The scene is long, full of heated tension and steamy camera angles even before the couple on screen starts to hastily undress and moan together in the sheets, and it makes your whole body vibrate with uncomfortable energy.

Yunho is relaxed in the corner of your couch, legs spread out on the chaise, his arm wrapped around your shoulders as you nestle into his side. He’s sweet, your boyfriend of three going on four months, and he seems completely unfazed by the scene on screen.

Wooyoung is lounging on your opposite side, his legs cutting a diagonal line across you so he can rest his feet on part of the chaise too, all three of you tucked up under blankets.

You probably wouldn’t be so unable to process your discomfort had you not gone out with them earlier in the night, a few happy hour drinks and back to your place with takeout and some more beer to keep the good vibes going. If you were stone cold sober you would probably be fine, but you had a buzz earlier, and a buzz always makes you more emotional.

“Damn,” Wooyoung huffs a laugh at the screen and takes a long swig of his beer, “get it,”

Yunho exhales a laugh softly through his nose but doesn’t comment.

You can’t even bring yourself to say a word. The idea of sex alone doesn’t always make you uncomfortable, but more often than not it does. It’s worse right now though, the number of times you had thought about sex while simultaneously not having it with Yunho these past few months makes you feel like this movie is just shoving your own anxiety and embarrassment in your face.

“Holy shit is that position even possible?” Wooyoung says, but you keep your eyes downcast, the sounds of the tv telling you all you need to know.

Your stomach clenches when Yunho responds, “Possible? Yeah. Comfortable, not so much,”

Heat rises in your cheeks.

He’s your boyfriend, that should turn you on, make you flirty and funny like other girls your age, but all you feel is a stark reminder of your own inadequacy.

“I don’t know,” Wooyoung takes another drink and glances towards you and Yunho, and it’s just like your best friend to say the thing no one else will, when he laughs and nudges your knee, “y/n, what’s got you all embarrassed?”

Yunho looks down at that.

“Hmm?” You try to play it off, looking back up towards the screen as the scene finally fades to black, “What do you mean? I’m fine,”

Wooyoung snorts a little, “Yeah? Did the movie get you all flustered? Cute,”

“Shut up,” You cross your arms, rolling your eyes and trying to look back to the screen, “you’re missing the movie,”

Yunho’s hand slips from the back of the couch to your arm.

“Thinking about trying all that out when I leave?” Wooyoung gives you a cheeky eyebrow.

Heat pricks behind your eyes.

“That’s ambitious,” Wooyoung continues, oblivious to his word’s effects, but Yunho’s picked up on your tension.

“Hey,” Yunho says sharply, “leave her alone,”

“Oof,” Wooyoung holds up a hand in surrender, “sorry, sorry, she knows I’m just teasing,”

You look to the side, turning your head away from him to try to collect yourself, but there’s no stopping the conversation now.

“It doesn't matter,” Yunho strokes your arm, “she’s uncomfortable, lay off.”

“Fine,” Wooyoung sighs, “damn, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hit a nerve,”

He more than hit a nerve. In true Wooyoung fashion as only he can do, he reached right in, exposed the nerve, and squeezed. You nod, swallowing tightly, and your plan is to tell him it’s no big deal and go back to pretending this never happened, but when you take in a breath it comes sharply and tears slip down over your cheeks.

Yunho tenses, leaning forward to see you, “Baby?”

“Fuck, are you crying?” Wooyoung sobers, sitting up and reaching for you, “I’m so sorry, I’m… I don’t know what I said, but don’t cry,”

“I’m fine,” You suck in a breath and scrub your hands under your eyes, “I’m drunk, it’s fine,”

“It’s not fine,” Yunho brushes your cheeks with the pads of his thumbs.

“Hey,” Wooyoung wraps his arm around your back and gives your thigh a squeeze with his opposite hand as he leans into you, “it’s okay, you’re okay,”

“It’s not you,” You sigh, dropping your teary face into your hands, “it’s stupid,”

“It’s not,” Wooyoung starts to say, but you keep going.

“Yunho,” Your breath hitches, remembering how only two nights ago you had backed away from sex with him, leaving his apartment early again, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,”

Both men still, but then Yunho sighs, “I told you, it’s okay,”

“It’s not,” Your breath hitches again, and maybe it’s the alcohol or maybe it’s just the final tipping point of how angry you’ve been at yourself for months, years, but you say it, “it’s not okay that your girlfriend is fucking defective,”

Wooyoung’s hand tightens on your knee, and Yunho sucks in a sharp breath, “Hey,” he says, “baby, what,”

Something clicks in place, “You guys haven’t had sex,” Wooyoung blurts out.

“That’s not really any of your-,” Yunho starts to say, but you cut him off.

“No,”

“We’re just taking it slow,” Yunho shifts, drawing you closer, “and there is nothing wrong with that,”

You shake your head, and suddenly the sound of the television cuts.

“Yunho’s right,” Wooyoung rubs your back, “and I wouldn’t have teased you like that if I knew. I wasn’t trying to be mean, you know that, I just assumed we weren’t talking about stuff like that since we’re all friends, so it didn’t get weird,”

Nervousness bubbles through you, and you push their hands away, “I should go,”

“What?” Yunho says, confusion all over his face as you stand up.

“Go? This is your apartment,” Wooyoung follows you, the blankets discarded on the floor.

“To bed,” You manage, trying to recover as you try to physically remove yourself from the most uncomfortable conversation of your life, “I should go to bed.”

“It’s eight o’clock,” Wooyoung reaches for you, “what is going on?”

“Well, I’m tired,” Your legs are moving, heart pounding, but as you walk past the couch towards the hall Yunho’s hand closes around your wrist and pulls you to a stop.

“What did you mean, ‘my girlfriend's defective’?” Yunho asks softly, pulling you back to the couch, his voice gravelly with tension and concern.

“Yunho,” You sigh.

“No,” He shakes his head, “you’re running away,”

“Yun-,”

“I’ve been patient,” He insists, “I haven’t pushed, but what does that mean? What the hell would make you think there’s something wrong with you?”

You rest a hand over your eyes, taking a shaky breath.

“You can talk to us,” Wooyoung murmurs.

“It’s embarrassing,” You manage.

Yunho’s thumb softly strokes over the veins in your wrist, but he stays quiet.

“It can’t be that bad,” Wooyoung says warmly, “you know all my embarrassing secrets,”

You pull your arm out of Yunho’s grip and shake your head, “Fuck,”

“Baby,” Yunho murmurs.

“Fine, fuck it,” After years of biting your tongue, you’re not sure here in this moment you can do it anymore, and the truth all but bursts out of your chest, “I’m a virgin.”

You watch Yunho’s eyes grow wide with surprise.

Crossing your arms tightly over your chest, you take a step back, “It’s really fucking embarrassing, okay? So there, that’s it.”

Yunho’s still for a moment, and then he pushes off the couch, stepping over the chaise to get to you. Your stomach feels like it’s dropped out under you, and for once Wooyoung is absolutely silent, watching your boyfriend to see exactly how he’ll respond.

Yunho settles in front of you, sitting on the arm of the couch so that you’re eye to eye and then he gently touches your arms, “Sweetheart,” he says softly, “you have nothing to be embarrassed about.”

His hands run up and down your upper arms slowly and you soften, “But,”

He shakes his head, “That doesn’t make you defective,” he squeezes you, “I don’t want to ever hear you say that about yourself again,”

You sigh, “It’s not just that,”

“Then what?” He soothes you, pulling you a little closer until you’re standing between his open legs, “Talk to me,”

“I’ve tried,” You explain quietly, “but I just can’t, and it’s not fair to you,”

“You’ve tried,” Wooyoung processes those words clearly, and you finally glance at your best friend.

You can only manage a nod.

“To have sex?” Yunho infers.

“In school,” Your cheeks heat and you try to pull away but Yunho keeps you in his hands.

“That night at Yonsei,” Wooyoung blurts out as the puzzle pieces of his memory align and slot together.

You grimace. That was the night you figured out how mismatched you and sex were, the night in college you decided to throw caution and fear aside and get a little drunk and just get it over with. Only it didn’t matter how hot your almost-hookup was, or how charming, the minute he had his hands on you everything changed in your brain. It was like you were disappearing inside yourself, feeling bleeding out of you until you were just a body you didn’t recognize. It had spun you right into a panic attack that left you running out of his apartment and straight to your best friend’s arms.

“What happened at Yonsei?” Yunho tenses, looking between you both.

Wooyoung looks at you for a long moment, “She met a guy at a party, and two hours later she was crying on my doorstep. You said nothing happened, you said he was just a jerk,”

“He was fine, it was me,” You murmur, “I couldn’t do it,”

“That was years ago though,” Wooyoung offers.

You feel your cheeks heat up again, “I’ve tried to hook up with other people,”

“Oh,” Wooyoung’s shoulders drop, his eyes going tender, “babe, why didn’t you tell me?”

“It’s just so uncomfortable, I’m so mortified by the whole thing,” You rub your hands over your eyes, sighing into your palms.

Yunho’s watching you carefully, but you can see him thinking and finally he says, “Were you ever planning on telling me?”

Your stomach clenches and you can’t come up with anything to say.

“Oh god,” His eyes widen, “you weren’t going to tell me, were you?”

“I thought it might be different with you,” You murmur, “once I got up the nerve,”

Yunho stands, running a hand through his hair, “Baby,” he steps away, pacing the length of the couch, “you can’t be serious,”

You expected him to be upset, but confusion at why he’s angry fills you, “What?”

“I could tell you were a little inexperienced, that’s fine, but never? I could have hurt you, or gone too fast, y/n,” Yunho finally faces you, “we’re in a partnership, sex should be about both of us, and losing your virginity isn’t something to just get over with,”

“I know,” You tell him, even though you really don’t have a good grasp on that at all, “I’m sorry, please don’t be upset,”

“I’m not upset,” He sighs, “I’m… I don’t know,”

You’re quiet, panic curling in your gut that your worst fear of losing him was happening right in front of your eyes, but then Wooyoung interjects and the night seems to take the strangest turn with one sentence.

“If it helps,” He says, “I’m also a virgin,”

You and Yunho both swing around to look at him and you let out a startled laugh, “What? No you’re not, I literally know people you’ve hooked up with,”

“I mean,” He nods, “okay, not a total virgin, in terms of percentages I think you win,”

You laugh again at the absurdity of his words, clapping a hand over your lips.

“I’ve done pretty much everything except had my dick in someone,” He says earnestly, “it’s not that big of a deal, I’m sure it’ll happen at some point with the right person,”

“But,” You blink, “you’ve dated so many people,”

“Right, well,” He clears his throat, throwing a quick look at Yunho, “with girls it’s mostly just getting each other off and with guys, I’m uh, not exactly topping,”

“Oh,” You manage.

“My point is,” He steps towards you and cups your cheeks, “your very sweet boyfriend is right, there is nothing wrong with you. And if something is making you uncomfortable you’re not going to get over that by ignoring it or lying to people who care about you and want to take care of you.”

There’s nothing to say to that.

“Virginity is bullshit anyways,” He says firmly, “it doesn’t mean anything real, so if you’re a virgin so am I.”

“Woo,” You sigh.

“Yunho,” Wooyoung looks to the side, “come hug your girlfriend,”

You smile, and in a second Yunho’s arms are around you, pulling you up and into his embrace.

“This makes so much sense,” Yunho sighs, a little relieved as he rubs your back.

“You’re sure you’re okay with it?” You ask into his chest, “I think most guys think,”

“Fuck most guys,” Yunho shakes his head, “you’re not dating most guys.”

“But,”

“Woo,” He says, “back me up here,”

Wooyoung laughs, “He’s right, most guys wouldn’t care,” he says, “but we definitely would want to know,”

“You would?” You untangle yourself from Yunho to look at your best friend, “I mean, isn’t it all the same for you?”

You know the question is naive the second it leaves your lips. Yunho’s hand stills on your upper arm, and Wooyoung cocks his head to the side before answering, “No, not really,”

“At all,” Yunho adds, “there’s a lot I would do differently knowing that,”

Wooyoung nods, “Same,”

You run a hand through your hair, “I just feel like… I don’t know that’s not what it seemed like when I… or, fuck, this is so embarrassing,”

“Come here,” Wooyoung pulls you into his chest and gives you a solid hug, “stop worrying what we think, we’re not judging you,”

“Woo,” You murmur into his shoulder, “you don’t know, I think my brain is broken,”

“No,” He soothes you, “come on, let’s all sit back down, we can talk,”

You swallow tightly, but nod.

Wooyoung pulls you gently back to your original position on the couch and Yunho follows, sliding into his spot and pulling the blankets up over all three of you as you settle in.

“You can tell us,” Wooyoung says, tucking the blanket under your feet.

Yunho nods before brushing his fingers along your cheekbone and tucking your hair behind your ear, “You okay?”

You shrug a little, “I guess,”

“You can tell me anything,” Yunho squeezes your hand, “I really care about you, y/n, I promise you can trust me,”

You nod, and then you brace yourself for the questions, for the way you’re about to be more honest with these two men than you’ve been with yourself.

“When you say you can’t,” Yunho brushes his thumb over your knuckles, “what do you mean?”

You let out a slow breath, “I’ve never told anyone this,”

Wooyoung smooths a hand over your knee under the blanket, a comforting rub of his skin on yours.

“Um,” You don’t know where to start.

“Does it hurt?” Wooyoung prompts you softly, “I know for some girls that’s a thing, right?”

Yunho’s thumb stops moving, and he squeezes your hand again.

“It’s not that,” You shake your head.

“Okay,” Wooyoung murmurs, soft like he’s coaxing it out of you.

“It’s,” You search for the right way to explain, “I don’t know why, but whenever I’m, um, intimate with someone it’s like I’m not there,”

Yunho’s brow furrows as he studies your face.

“It feels like I’m, I don’t know, not in my body anymore?” You try to explain, “Like I’m watching everything happen from the outside, like i’m stuck like that, and then I just panic,”

Your words sit for a moment and then Wooyoung says, “That sounds really scary,”

The tension left in your chest snaps and you suck in a sharp breath, “It is,”

Yunho separates your hands and shifts closer to you on the couch, his body close and angled towards you, his hand cupping the back of your head, “You’re dissociating,”

“Yeah,”

He nods, “How many times has this happened?”

“Um,” You look up, flicking through your memory, “a few times, three times,”

“Was it always the same?” He asks.

“Mostly,” You nod.

“What really happened, then?” Wooyoung asks quietly, “At Yonsei,”

“I told you most of it,” You say honestly, “he and I went upstairs at the party to his room, we you know, made out a bit which was okay. He didn’t mind that I was a virgin, and everything was okay, but then he started touching me and I just… yeah, I shut down, and then I started to hate it, and then I freaked out on him and ran off,”

“And the other times?” Yunho’s hand slips down to settle on your neck.

“Pretty much the same,” You tell them, “the second guy was someone from a class at this party, and then I swore sex off for a while, but tried again a couple of years ago with a guy at a bar. I thought a few drinks would help me relax, but getting more drunk just made it worse. I stopped trying after that,”

Yunho’s hand tightens on your neck, “Jesus,”

“It’s bad, I know,”

He shakes his head, waving his other hand to dispel your assumption, “No, but I don’t like the idea of you in that situation at all.”

“It was fine,” You sigh, “I definitely freaked that guy out though, I started crying the minute he took my shirt off. He got me cup of tea and put me in a cab home after that,”

Wooyoung squeezes your leg and you turn to him, “Can I ask you something that’s a little… I don’t want to upset you, but,”

“Ask,” You nod.

“Did something happen when we were kids, or in school?” His eyes are soft, tender as he asks his careful question.

Yunho stiffens but you quickly shake your head, “Nothing like that,”

Wooyoung lets out a relieved breath.

“I know it’s awful to say this,” You admit quietly, resting your hand on Wooyoung’s, “but sometimes I wish it were that clear, at least then I’d have a reason, something to make sense of it, but I’m just… like this.”

Wooyoung nods, but doesn’t have anything to say to that.

Heat creeps into your cheeks and you figure you might as well keep confessing, “I thought about asking you, actually,”

“Me?” Wooyoung’s eyebrows raise.

“Yeah,” You laugh, “after the second time, I figured it was a mental block about losing my virginity or something, so I thought about telling you and asking for your help since we’ve been friends so long, but you were dating guys by then, so I figured, you know,”

“I still like girls,”

“I know!” You rush to correct yourself, “I just saw how good things were for you, I didn’t want to, I don’t know, be a charity case,”

“y/n,” He shakes his head, “you’ve been my best friend since we were six, I love you, you could never be a charity case to me. I would have helped you then, I would, well yeah,”

Wooyoung clears his throat, his eyes flicking to Yunho, “Not in a weird way, I’m not trying to,”

“Relax,” Yunho says, “I know you’re not.”

You sink deeper into the back of the couch, leaning into Yunho’s warm touch still anchored on your neck.

“Baby,” Yunho murmurs, “how has it been with me?”

“Oh,” You straighten up, turning towards him.

“Honestly,” He adds.

You think about all the ways Yunho upended you. Friends first, flirtations second, touches coming so much later. There’s heat with him, nervous bubbles in your belly, and you swear sometimes when he kisses you, you can feel the vibrating frequency of it on your lips for days.

“It’s different,” You tell him, “really different,”

He nods, encouraging you more.

“That’s why I thought maybe this would work out,” You confess, “I want more with you, but I also… if it is me, and I can’t do it, I don’t want to ruin this. I’m really scared of fucking this up,”

“You’re not going to,”

“Yunho,”

“You’re not.” He says firmly.

“Babe,” Wooyoung gives you another squeeze, “I think I know what’s going on,”

You and Yunho both turn to look, “What do you mean?”

“Those guys,” He smiles a little, “they were random hookups at parties, they were probably drunk and definitely not treating you right, but did you even like them? Were you even into them when you went upstairs?”

You blink, “Into them?”

“Yeah,” He nods, “like did you get hot and heavy on the dance floor and want to rip each other’s clothes off, or did you just… pick a guy to lose it to,”

“Woo,” The question alone embarrasses you.

“I don’t think you can just hook up with anyone,” He explains softly, “I think you don’t want to, or maybe, I’m not sure, but maybe you don’t feel arousal unless you care about the person.”

You sit silently in that knowledge for a moment. It’s something you thought about, the idea of needing the romance element. It’s not like you lacked a sex drive, it just never felt like other people’s. You weren’t a porn watcher, you didn’t think about sex or sexual things when you saw someone hot. Growing up people would always make comments about people’s bodies, the way it made them feel, the things they wanted to do, but you always just felt hollow. The only times in your life you’ve felt those deep in your gut stirrings was reading one of your romance novels, or from the two men on either side of you now.

“It would make sense why intimacy feels different with Yunho,” He sums up softly, “and why you would have felt safe enough with me to ask.”

Your mind is still turning that over when Yunho softly interjects, “With me,” he asks gently, “when we’re kissing, you seem to like it, to be there. Right?”

You nod immediately, “Definitely,”

“And have you thought about us doing more than that?” Yunho’s fingers gently card through your hair.

“A lot,” You admit, your cheeks heating up again, “I just… I was afraid it would happen again.”

“Okay,” Yunho murmurs, his fingers soft against your scalp.

“I’ve only ever felt that for you,” You confess, and at that you feel Wooyoung’s hand slip off your knee and you turn sharply, grabbing his hand to keep him from pulling away from you, “and you, I’ve also, I used to, yeah,”

It’s Wooyoung’s turn to soften, his eyes flicking nervously from yours to Yunho’s and back, “You’re uh,” he stumbles over his words, “you’re saying Yunho and I are the only guys who have ever made you, uh,”

“Horny?” You supply with a smile, “and I thought I was the embarrassed virgin,”

“Shut up,” Wooyoung rolls his eyes, “you know what I mean,”

“Yeah,” You laugh, “but yeah, I guess… what you said makes sense, sex has never clicked with me, I don’t really feel that kind of attraction at first, but you’re my best friend.”

Wooyoung swallows nervously.

Turning back to Yunho you cup his cheek, holding his gaze, “And I feel more connected to you than anyone,” you tell him honestly, “we were friends for a little while before you ever asked me out and things have been… the way I feel is so,”

You can’t quite get the words out, but he nods, “Me too,”

Yunho shifts forwards and places a single, soft kiss on your lips before leaning back and clearing his throat. He squeezes your hand again, his thumb still working an unconsciously comforting pattern on the back of your hand, and you wonder if he realizes just how at ease he puts you.

Wooyoung shifts next to you, “Can I ask something else?”

“Hmm?” You turn to him, pulling your gaze from Yunho’s, “Sure,”

“The movie,” He nods to the blank TV screen, “that kind of thing, were you just embarrassed because we’re both here, or do you not watch stuff like that at all?”

Your nose crinkles, “Are you asking me if I watch porn?”

Wooyoung laughs sharply, “I mean that was hardly porn, but yeah, I guess I’m curious,”

“Uh,” You shrug, “I mean, no? I don’t, no,”

“Why?” Yunho asks, and then clarifies, “It’s fine that you don’t, I guess I’m curious too,”

“It just seems so fake,” You admit, “all the moaning and the screaming, I mean I’ve never,”

Wooyoung’s eyebrows raise.

You clap a hand over your lips and shake your head, “Nevermind,”

Yunho looks positively amused, leaning his head onto his hand, elbow propped up on the couch arm, “Go on,”

You shake your head, hiding your own smile behind your fingers.

“When you jack off?” Wooyoung supplies with a grin.

“Woo!” You slap his arm and feel your face heating back up.

“Sorry,” He says, but he’s not, and he doesn’t lose the smile, “when you masturbate, you do masturbate don’t you?”

“Yes, I masturbate,” Your voice drops to a hushed, almost scandalized whisper.

Yunho’s hand brushes over the back of your head and settles on your neck, “Baby,” he says, “you’re fine, you don’t have to be shy.”

“Jesus,” Your eyes shut and you shake your head.

Yunho shifts back towards you, “We can stop talking about this though, if you’re actually uncomfortable we can be done.”

“I’m fine,” You manage, “I just… I don’t talk about this kind of thing regularly,”

He nods.

With a sigh you run a hand through your hair, “Yeah, so I don’t know, when I… well, you know, it’s just different than…. yeah, you know,”

Wooyoung snorts a laugh and Yunho grins at your word salad.

They wait for you to say more, but finally Yunho translates, “You’re saying when you touch yourself, it doesn’t feel like what porn looks like, like what the women in porn are experiencing?”

“Basically,” You let out a tense breath.

“Have you actually orgasmed before?” Yunho asks.

You separate your hands from the boys, and rest the back of your cool fingers on your cheeks, “Yeah, I mean, yes,”

“Listen,” Yunho smooths his hand over your thigh, “I’m not saying porn is realistic, a lot of it isn’t, but with the right person it can definitely make you feel a lot better than I think you realize.”

“Sometimes it’s pretty loud,” Wooyoung adds, leaning back against the couch cushions.

“Fuck,” You hide your face in your hands, “this is crazy, what am I like fifteen? You must think I’m such a baby,”

“No,” Yunho soothes you, “I think you needed to find the right guy, and if Woo’s right and you need the romantic part before the rest, I mean, it would make sense why porn isn’t your thing.”

Your mind flicks back to all the guys you’ve tried to lose it to in the past. The three you made it far enough with that it left a lasting impression, but also every other guy you considered.

“I’m just so behind now,” You admit your fears quietly, “if we can even have sex, I’m so… I’m just so late,”

“Learning’s half the fun,” Wooyoung says plainly.

Yunho’s hand slides over your back, “Mhm,” he murmurs, “and if I am the right guy, then, baby, I’d be more than happy to teach you,”

“Cute,” Wooyoung comments.

Something warm and tight solidifies in your gut at his words.

You don’t realize you haven’t responded until Yunho gently pulls your hands away from your face, “You okay? Jagi?”

You nod, “I’m good, just, thinking, I guess,”

He looks nervous, you realize.

“You’re definitely the right guy,” You take his hands in yours, “I’m sorry, I’m a little overwhelmed.”

Overwhelmed isn’t exactly the right word for it.

You’re starting to notice all the little ways he’s touching you, and then you start to realize all the little ways Wooyoung is touching you too. With other people, this kind of intimate touch would twist your stomach in the wrong way, but with them it’s a pleasant kind of warmth, syrupy and soft, and it makes you want to kick off the blankets and drink a cold glass of water.

Wooyoung’s hand brushes over your hair, “What are you thinking?”

“I don’t know,” You breathe, “I’m just glad I told you both.”

He nods, “I’m glad you told us too,”

“Yeah,” Yunho nods, “and whenever you’re ready we’ll,”

The words spill out of you, “I’ve been ready,”

Yunho’s eyebrows raise, his lips quirked up on one side into a smile. Now that the dam is broken, it seems all your thoughts and secrets just keep flooding out.

“Sorry,” You huff a soft laugh.

“Don’t be,” Yunho replies, “I like you more comfortable, you’re allowed to tell me stuff like that,”

You nod.

Wooyoung’s hand slips off your leg and you feel your stomach twist. He’s pulling back, putting distance between your bodies, and something deep down feels wrong.

“Well, I should probably get out of here,” He says, taking that as his cue to leave.

You can’t help the way your face falls at the idea, and Yunho’s eyes flick over your expression.

Wooyoung cleans up his little space on the table, walking into your kitchen, and something deeply unspoken passes between you and Yunho.

You hear the bottles clink in the recycling, and the sound of running water as Wooyoung washes his hands and cleans off his dish.

“y/n,” Yunho murmurs, “are you sobered up?”

You blink, but nod. He knows as well as you do that you’ve only had one slow beer since getting back from the happy hour several hours ago, but he’s giving you the chance to pull the emergency brake on the rest of the night if you need it.

Wooyoung walks out, finding his jacket and pulling it on, “Text me later, and uh, thanks for drinks earlier,”

Your best friend isn’t meeting your eyes.

“Wooyoung,” Yunho interrupts, leaning forwards with his elbows on his knees, “I think you should stay.”

His head snaps up, “What?”

“I think you should stay,” He reiterates, “I think y/n wants you here, but is too scared to ask for that.”

The curling, heavy warmth returns in your belly.

”But,” Wooyoung blinks.

”I’m not sure what we’ll do tonight,” Yunho offers, “but if y/n is comfortable enough to be this honest, and if we’re the only two guys that have ever made her feel the right way about sex, then I think you should stay.”

Wooyoung’s eyes widen and flash to yours.

Smoothly, Yunho turns to you, “If you want that,” he murmurs, “all of us figuring this out together, I want you to know that I’m good with it.”

“All of us as in all three of us?” You manage, surprise coursing through you.

Yunho stays the calm center between you and your best friend, and looks to Wooyoung, “Woo?”

A silent conversation passes between them, you can tell that much from watching their every micro expression, but then Wooyoung nods, “But it’s up to y/n,”

Yunho turns his focus back to you, “Only if you want it,” he says, “but you’d be safe with us, and you know us, and now that we know where you’re at we can take it slow and make sure you’re connected the whole time.”

A light bulb turns on for Wooyoung and he nods, “We also definitely don’t have to have sex if you’re not ready for that, we could just mess around,”

Yunho nods.

This is probably going to be something that you’ll regret, but you hope not. If nothing else, the feeling in your body now isn’t anxiety or fear or numbness, it’s want.

You want it.

And you’ve been trying to figure out a way to want this for as long as you can remember.

“Let’s do it,” You exhale, nodding, “let’s try,”

Yunho smiles.

“Shit,” Wooyoung laughs, “are you sure? We’re doing this?”

“I mean,” You pick up on the infectiousness of his laugh, “who knows maybe this ends in twenty minutes with a panic attack, but, fuck it,”

Yunho shakes his head, cupping your cheek, “We’re stopping before it gets that far,”

You nod, pushing down the litter flutter of nervousness in your gut, “S-so how do we start?”

“Let’s go to bed,” Yunho offers softly, “no rush, just to get comfortable.”

“Okay,” Your voice is soft.

Wooyoung reaches out to you and you slot your hand in his as he says, “Damn, who would have thought we’d be losing our virginity together,”

Yunho snorts a laugh behind you and you roll your eyes.

“Yeah, yeah,” you let him pull you to your feet, “you’re loving this, I see,”

Wooyoung shrugs.

Yunho stands and slides behind you, his hands softly gripping your waist, “Still good?”

“Mhm,” You nod, and honestly Wooyoung’s teasing has you more relaxed then before, “good,”

Wooyoung leans in and presses a quick kiss to your cheek, walking back towards your bedroom like it’s his own, “Come on,” he calls back over his shoulder, “let’s go pop some cherries,”

You fall apart into hysterical laughter, stumbling forwards with Yunho still close at your back, the three of you collapsing into bed together with an ease you’ve never experienced in your entire life.

Once the laughing starts to fade though, you’re acutely aware that you’re in the center of the bed and they are snuggled close on either side of you, just under the duvet and nestled close.

“This is nice,” Wooyoung breaks the ice softly.

“Mhm,” Yunho smiles, “I kind of thought this might happen someday.”

“A threesome?” You laugh.

“I mean,” Yunho shrugs, his hand brushing up and down your bare arm, “you two are kind of a package deal,”

Wooyoung snorts a laugh, “I’ve heard that one before,”

“I don’t mind,” Yunho smiles, “I like you around,”

He smiles back, rolling closer into you and propping his head up on a hand, “Dude,” he laughs, “do you even like dick?”

To your absolute surprise, Yunho smirks, “I dabbled in college,”

“You did?” Your eyes widen.

Yunho shrugs again, “Some,”

“Holy shit,” Wooyoung shakes his head, “this is going to be fun,”

“Slow down,” Yunho rolls his eyes and nods to you, “we’ve got a million things to get through first,”

A nervous knot starts to form in your gut at their attention, but you take a slow, steady breath.

“Sweetheart,” Yunho catches your attention, his fingers gentle on your jaw, “how are you feeling?”

“Good,” You murmur, “mostly,”

“What’s the not good part?” He asks.

You sigh, “I’m just nervous,”

“Me too,” He admits, his fingers sliding up and down your jaw, “Wooyoung, are you nervous?”

“Definitely,”

“Nervous is normal,” Yunho smiles a little, “and we’re going to take our time. There’s no rush, we have nowhere to be, and there’s no wrong way to do this,”

Your shoulders soften.

“If you start to feel scared or like you’re out of your body,” Yunho cups your cheek properly, “I want you to say ‘red’, okay?”

You’ve read enough romance novels to know exactly what the color system is and when to use it, but coming from your sweet, patient boyfriend, you’re a little surprised.

Your brow furrows, “Why not stop?”

He smiles wider, “Because,” he leans forward and presses a soft kiss to your lips before continuing, “if we do this right, you might start saying things like ‘don’t stop’, and I don’t want any of us confused about what we are hearing,”

Something inside you flutters and you nod.

Wooyoung smiles, an eyebrow raised, “Colors?”

“You’re familiar?” Yunho smirks.

“Yeah,” Wooyoung laughs, “a little surprised that you are, but what do I know,”

Yunho ignores that comment, and you try not to fixate on the fact that if Yunho is that experienced, it might mean something about his relationship to sex that you’re not ready for.

“Now, nice and slow,” Yunho’s voice is warmer, deeper in his chest and that pulls you right out of your thought spiral.

“We’ll get comfortable,” Wooyoung kisses your shoulder gently.

“Yeah,” You breathe.

“You like kissing me, right?” Yunho shifts closer, his fingers gentle on your jaw.

It feels like all the air has been sucked out of the room, but you nod, “Uh huh,”

He smiles a little, his pretty mouth parting as he leans towards you, “Just let yourself feel me,”

“Kay,” You breathe.

His lips connect to yours.

Warm, soft, and slow, just the press of his mouth. He’s gentler than before, now that he knows your secret, but instead of feeling overwhelmed, you just feel safe. He nuzzles you with his nose, taking a little breath as your mouths part, but then he kisses you again, not an ounce of urgency in his touch.

With gentle reverence, he lets you warm to being touched, he lets you adjust.

Yunho brushes his thumb back and forth over your jaw, and you feel your shoulders soften, physically relaxing into the bedding.

Your fingers grip down on his shirt, fabric bunching as the mere weight of your hand strains the soft cotton against the buttons. He’s warm, his skin, his breath. You can feel the thump of his steady heart against your fingers, and when he sighs against your lips you feel like his warmth has seeped right from his skin to yours.

You shiver, some knot of tension inside you starting to unspool.

Slowly, Yunho pulls back just enough to catch your eyes, “You okay?”

There’s no pressure in his eyes, no push for more or irritation under the surface. Nothing like what you’ve seen with any partner before this.

All you see in Yunho’s eyes is patience.

“Yeah,” You nod, “I think so,”

Yunho smiles a little.

“It’s nice,” You murmur, “you feel nice,”

“Nice is good,” Yunho smiles wider.

Wooyoung’s fingers brushing along your hip bring you back to reality, and you turn your head just slightly, catching sight of your best friend.

He’s watching you both with such affection it nearly bowls you over. You expected heat in his eyes; hunger, lust, uncontrollable desire, all the things you’ve seen a million times before in movies. You’ve heard plenty about Wooyoung’s nights out too, his stories of hookup after hookup leave little to the imagination, but here in bed all you see when you look at him is your best friend.

“Hey,” You murmur a little lamely.

“Hey,” Wooyoung smiles, adjusting his position on his side, propping his head up on his hand.

For a second, you look at him, really look at him.

His skin is tanned from the summer sun, making his brown eyes a richer, deeper tone with warm flecks of amber. His dark black hair has gotten longer too, just starting to brush the top of his shoulders with a natural soft wave, making him habitually brush his hand through his locks. His straight brow, the distinct cut of his nose, the lovely crooked curve of his lips, one dark mole under his left eye.

“You’re staring, cutie,” Wooyoung wags an eyebrow to tease you, but keeps his tone kind.

“Sorry,” You feel your cheeks heat.

“You’re okay,” He assures you, “what are you thinking about?”

“Nothing really,” You fib.

He bites his lip to keep from shooting back a playful retort, and then he sighs, glancing between you and Yunho before ripping off the proverbial band-aid, “y/n,” he murmurs, “do you want to try kissing me too?”

Your stomach bubbles with something new.

Reflexively, you look to your boyfriend, surely if he’s not comfortable he would say something, but Yunho only nods.

“It’s okay,” Yunho promises, “I want you to,”

You nod, back to Wooyoung, and slowly you both shift towards one another.

“I got you, babe,” Wooyoung assures gently as he gets closer, the heat of his body resonating through his clothes and yours.

You take in a quiet breath, and then you feel his lips.

His kiss is different, lighter at first. Hesitant like he’s coaxing out a secret from inside you, letting you come to him. You think faintly in the back of your mind it’s the first time Wooyoung’s ever eased you into anything, you’ve been dragged along behind him in his chaotic orbit since you were kids, but this time he moves so slowly and so gingerly you can’t help but smile against his lips.

You exhale a little laugh, and you feel his lips curve upwards, his hand sliding forwards to find your hand, thumb gentle against the center of your palm.

With a breath his eyes flick over you, “Still okay?”

You nod again, and that bubbling strangeness in your belly returns, not nerves, but something else entirely.

Yunho shifts his body next to you, both of your boys now properly leaning on their sides on either side of you, before he leans in and presses a kiss to your temple.

Wooyoung grins, dropping his face to rest his forehead against your shoulder and he exhales a sigh of relief, “I can’t believe we’re doing this,”

Your chest tightens, “Why?”

“You’re my best friend,” He kisses your shoulder twice over the two freckles that stand out on your skin, “but I’ve wanted to do this for years,”

“We kissed before,” You lean into Yunho’s heat as you look down at him.

“We were eleven,” Wooyoung rolls his eyes.

“Cute,” Yunho smiles.

Wooyoung presses his lips to your shoulder again but stays still, just resting his mouth on your skin, before sucking in a breath and looking up at you, “Can I kiss you again?”

“Yeah,” You can barely breathe.

This time, he reaches up and cups your cheek, drawing your jaw towards him so he can lock your lips together properly.

“I promise,” He says between kisses, “we’ll take such good care of you,”

Your chest warms.

“Won’t we?” Wooyoung throws a look to your boyfriend.

“Mhm,” Yunho’s voice is rich and warm in his throat, “you’re safe with us.”

Your chest tightens and then loosens pleasantly, nervous jitters starting to fade.

Wooyoung leans back, and they adjust their bodies once again so that you’re cradled between them.

The quiet between you is soft, full of warmth. Not silence exactly, just no one rushing to fill the air.

You don’t need to say anything, or do anything, you just rest here in the moment with their hands anchoring your body and your chests rising and falling in time with each other.

Yunho finally nuzzles your hair gently with his nose, “Sweetheart,” he says softly in your ear, “can I touch you a little more?”

You can feel your heartbeat pick up, but you nod.

Yunho’s hand slides over the curve of your shoulder, fingertips gently skating over the swell of your chest, down your stomach until he rests there lightly at your waist. He doesn’t push or guide his hand anywhere else, he just waits, his palm a warm weight as he lets you get used to his hands searching your body.

“You’re trembling,” Wooyoung murmurs.

You hadn’t even realized, but you are. Just enough that they can see it, feel it, and your hand twitches in Wooyoung’s loose hold.

“Is it okay?” Yunho asks, so quiet it’s barely a breath.

You nod, turning your head to find his eyes, searching inside yourself for the right way to say what you’re feeling, “It’s not the bad kind,”

“Yeah?” His eyes, deep brown and round, search yours.

“I’m not scared,” You manage.

“Does it feel good?” He checks softly.

“Yeah,” You breathe.

Yunho leans in, kissing you once more, “Thank you for telling me,” he murmurs.

Your breath catches in your throat, emotion striking you deep in the center of your chest, and all you can manage back is a nod.

With deliberate slowness, their eyes steady on you, their hands start to move. They smooth over your body slowly, mapping your skin, your curves, but with a featherlight touch. They don’t take anything you aren’t willing to give or ask your body for any answers it doesn’t have yet, they just feel. Letting you get accustomed to them, the way Yunho’s long fingers tickle as they glide over your pulse points, and how warm Wooyoung’s rough palms are as he brushes your skin.

Wooyoung’s palm settles over the blanket on your thigh and rests steadily as Yunho cups your face and draws you into another kiss. You shift up into it, pressing towards him for a little more sensation, a little more pressure, and the blanket that was up around your shoulders sinks down to your waist.

Yunho glances down, fingers gentle on your shoulder, “How’s this?”

“Good,” You reply, a little breathless from the kiss.

Wooyoung squeezes your thigh and you let out a heavy exhale, feeling warmth spreading through your body slowly like molasses.

“More?” Wooyoung murmurs.

You nod.

Yunho’s fingers hook under the straps of your top and he gingerly slides his fingers up and down, knuckles brushing your skin as he nods towards your shirt, “Can we take this off?”

You hesitate, just for a split second. He hasn’t seen you like that before, neither of them have. Everytime you and Yunho had kissed, even made out, and gotten close to anything more the second his hand slipped under your shirt you had stumbled off his lap with an excuse to leave.

This was uncharted territory with them.

Wooyoung’s voice grounds you though, “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” he offers, “it’s just a shirt,”

“No,” You gather yourself, “I want to,”

With shaking fingers you reach for the hem of your tank top, shifting in the bedding to try and pull it up.

“Can I help?” Yunho says, hand hovering near yours, ready to touch you at the first breath of permission.

“Please,” You let your hands fall away.

He swallows tightly, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat and you feel something tighten inside you as you watch him. He draws your shirt up as you sit up a bit to make it a bit easier, and Wooyoung reaches up to help with the other side. Both of them tug your shirt free over your head as you sink back against the pillows.

A little chill runs through you, and you find yourself pulling up the blanket a little.

Yunho sighs though, his expression softening as his eyes skate over your full breasts, only the thin fabric of your black bra standing between you.

Your fingers nervously curl into the blanket.

“You’re so pretty, baby” Yunho murmurs.

Wooyoung nods, “God,” he says, shaking his head with a soft laugh, “sorry, it’s just, you’re so-,”

“Beautiful,” Yunho amends his words, “you’re beautiful,”

When he says it like that, it doesn’t sound like a question, or even an opinion, he says it like it’s a fact. An obvious, knowable truth just by looking at you.

No one’s ever looked at you like that or called you beautiful like that in your life.

Your eyes glance down, hands fluttering nervously on the blanket, but Wooyoung reaches down and slips his hand in yours, lacing his fingers with yours again like he always has.

“I-,” You smile, exhaling nervously, “I’m not sure what to say,”

“That’s okay,” Wooyoung murmurs.

“And I don’t know what to do with my hands,” You admit, tightening your grip on Wooyoung.

It’s embarrassing, nerve-wracking, to be this inexperienced and fearful at your age, tucked between two men who have probably lost count at the number of times they’ve had sex or perhaps even the number of partners.

“Put them wherever you want,” Yunho says, “or just let them be. You don’t have to worry about what to do, or if it’s what we want. Just let us take care of everything,”

Emotion tugs again at your chest, and you nod, biting your lip to keep from spilling out every thought in your mind, every worry and fear that you’re not worth this.

Your hand settles over Yunho’s chest though, and something in you eases at the steady thump of his heart against your hand.

Yunho looks momentarily shaken by your touch, something sparking in his eyes, but he recovers with a soft clear of his throat and covers your hand with his own, “That’s good,”

You manage another nod.

“Hey,” Wooyoung leans in again, brushing his lips over your shoulder and stroking your side, “You’re still with us?”

“Yeah,”

“Still good?” He checks.

“I’m good,”

“Keep going?”

“Keep going,”

Yunho presses your hand down just a little, a tender response to let you know he’s listening still.

You’re not sure when the fear in your belly started to shift, but the heavy stone in your gut has faded away into something warmer, something new, something far from the panic you were used to.

You feel Yunho’s hand brush over your legs, coaxing you to stretch out in the bed and get a little more comfortable, and they follow you lower into the sheets.

Wooyoung curls into you, brushing his nose against your cheek, familiar and soft in a way that makes you smile.

No one’s rushing you, no one’s trying to get anywhere.

You realize all at once that this is what you needed, not a hurried hookup to get through the discomfort you felt before. Just time, space, everything taken at your pace, with people you trust.

This time, you hardly notice when the blanket slides down further until it’s properly pooled over your hips. Yunho’s palm rests warm and steady on your stomach, and Wooyoung’s hand curls over your ribs, resting just under your breast without taking it any further.

It’s then that Yunho finally speaks again, his voice barely above a whisper, “Can I kiss you here, jagiya?”

Your stomach flutters as his breath drifts over your chest.

You nod.

He dips his head and presses his lips to your chest, this time letting his lips drag against your skin as he presses another over your heart, and then another over your breast, and then another.

Your eyes flutter shut.

Gentle fingers, Wooyoung’s, brush against your scalp.

Yunho’s lips brush over the swell of your breasts, your chest, your collarbones.

You take a shuddering breath, and for the first time in your life you don’t feel like you’re disappearing.

“Okay?” Yunho checks, lifting his lips for a moment.

“Yeah,” Your voice cracks a little, “yes, keep going,”

Wooyoung kisses your hair, “Feels good?”

“Yes,” You sigh, a smile blooming on your lips.

Yunho’s hand wanders, from its warm home on your belly he searches your waist, brushing against Wooyoung’s fingers, and then drifts lower and lower still. He kisses your chest all the while, his lips dangerously close to the edge of your top.

You make a noise you don’t think you’ve ever made before, a gentle catch of air, a little whine, and your hand curls into the fabric of Yunho’s shirt.

“You’re right here,” Wooyoung assures you, not sure if the sound was in pleasure or fear.

You shake your head, “I know,” you feel the heat rising in your cheeks, “don’t stop,”

Yunho hums pleasantly against your skin, and then you feel his fingers at the knot of your pants, “How about these?” He murmurs, “Can we take these off?”

You pause, breath stuttering, and your eyes open.

Your pants are soft cotton, comfortable, familiar, but suddenly with his hand on your waist they feel like a second skin. The idea of pulling these away makes your chest tight and your heart hammer in your chest.

Your eyes flick down to your legs.

“We’re not in a rush,” Yunho reminds you softly, “this is about you,”

“I want to,” The words slip out of you, “it’s just, I don’t-,”

“What?” Wooyoung prompts you softly when your words die on your lips.

“What happens after that?” You manage.

“Just this,” Yunho promises.

“Just kisses,” Wooyoung nods, “until you feel ready for more,”

“What if I don’t feel ready for more?” You search his eyes.

“Then we stop,” Wooyoung reminds you, “we go get food, we watch a different movie, whatever we were going to do tonight anyways,”

His words ease you immediately and you nod.

“You’re in control,” Yunho kisses your temple, “the whole time,”

You nod.

His fingers linger over the knot at the front of your pants.

You nod again, holding his eyes.

He tugs and the tie falls open.

“Here,” Yunho murmurs, “let’s help you sit up a second,”

They move like they’ve done this together before, not this, not you, but like they’ve cared for someone together. Their hands stay steady, smooth, never grabbing and never rushed. You rise slowly, the blanket falling away.

Yunho reaches for your waistband first, slipping under the edge and then glancing back up, “Still okay?”

“Mhm,”

He pulls the fabric down just a little, just enough to show you that he’ll take it as slow as you need him too, and Wooyoung moves beside him to slide his hand up and down your calf to steady you.

“Lift your hips, sweetheart,” Yunho murmurs.

You lift up, and both of them strip the pants down your thighs, past your knees, over your ankles until they’re tossed somewhere off to the side and you’re left in your bra and underwear.

The air on your skin makes you inhale, but you’re not cold, you’re just bare.

Somehow you’re okay with that.

Yunho’s eyes skate over you, his teeth brushing against his bottom lip, but he smooths his expression and looks back up.

“You’re gorgeous,” Wooyoung breathes, unapologetically staring at you.

You glance down, and immediately clap a hand to your lips. You had forgotten what pair of underwear you were wearing, not something sexy and lacy that would match, or even a simple black thong. You sink back into the bedding with an embarrassed groan at the blue cotton underwear, adorned with tiny rainbows and clouds.

“You’re so fucking cute,” Yunho presses a firm kiss to your forehead, sighing as he smiles, “you have no idea,”

“No, this is so lame,” You whine, hiding your face, “I’m not supposed to be cute, I’m supposed to be sexy, we’re about to have sex,”

Yunho snorts a laugh against your hair, but Wooyoung lets out a proper laugh, “That’s bullshit,”

“Woo,”

“I like cute,” Wooyoung draws your hands away from your face and kisses your cheek, “so does Yunho, obviously,”

Yunho nods, “But you’re still sexy,”

“Please,”

“Baby,” Yunho draws your eyes up with a crooked finger under your chin, “I am doing my best to be extremely respectful and trying not to overwhelm you, but don’t for one second think that I’m not in love with every part of you right now. You’re driving me insane,”

“O-oh,” You smile, your heart tumbling over the word ‘love’ on his lips.

“Exactly,” Wooyoung nods, his hand finding a home against your waist once more, “exactly what he said,”

“Now,” Yunho murmurs, gently returning his hand to your belly, “where were we?”

“Kissing,” You sigh.

“Perfect,” Yunho slides a little lower in the bed and this time his lips travel further.

Wooyoung trades places with him and cuddles into your side, pulling your face towards his so he can kiss you properly this time.

Sensation blooms through your body as Wooyoung deepens the kiss, your mouths parting, and his tongue ever so gently flicking against yours. Yunho hums again, kissing over your breasts and down the center of your chest, lower still until he’s pressed against your abdomen.

You take in a sharp breath, your body twitching under them.

“More?” Yunho asks, lips brushing against the skin just above your navel.

“Yeah,” Your breath tangles with Wooyoung’s.

They keep close, their hands exploring your body with new purpose, still soft but you feel their boldness growing. You stay relaxed in their arms as they touch you, your stomach, your sides, drifting over your trembling thighs.

They touch you, kiss you, until it feels like no patch of skin has been rushed over, no bit of you ignored.

“Still with us?” Wooyoung presses soft pecks over your jaw, down your throat.

“Here,” Your voice is just a whisper.

“Good,” Yunho sighs, warm air spreading over your skin as he travels back up your body.

You can feel your body responding, not in the way it usually does with a partner, but in the ways it does when you’re alone. Your muscles are starting to clench, core fluttering, and you’re sure that if you checked you’d find yourself starting to get wet. Something deep in your center aches, and your hips jerk again, just a little as they kiss you.

“Baby,” Yunho coaxes you away from Wooyoung’s lips so can look at you, “how are you feeling?”

“Good,” You nod, “it’s, I’m feeling good,”

“Do you want to try something more than kissing?” Yunho asks gently, “Or not yet?”

Heat crackles under your skin in an unfamiliar way, and your tongue darts out to wet your lips, “I think, yes,”

“We’ll go slow?” Yunho checks.

“Slow is good,”

Wooyoung finds your hand again and squeezes it gently.

“How about,” Yunho clears his throat softly, his hand skating over your skin, “why don’t you show us?”

“Show you?” You search his face.

“Mhm,” Yunho’s nails gently rake up and down your thigh, “show us what you like,”

“How I masturbate?” You blink, looking between them.

Wooyoung smirks a little at the directness of your words, but Yunho nods, “Teach us how you like to be touched,”

“O-oh,” You shiver a little.

“Then I’ll show you my favorite way to make girls come,” Wooyoung slides down in the sheets, kissing over your bare arms, the exposed skin of your abdomen.

You don’t realize where he’s going until he starts to shimmy himself between your thighs.

You take in a sharp breath, your hand flying down to cover yourself even though you’re still wearing your underwear, “You don’t have to do that,”

“I know I don’t have to,” He smiles, kissing your knee, “I want to, I like it,”

You swallow tightly, your hand finding Yunho’s chest again.

“Pause,” Yunho instructs, and Wooyoung stills, “baby, what’s going through your head?”

“This is embarrassing,” You murmur.

“No one’s ever gone down on you, right?” Wooyoung checks.

“Well, no,” You let your head fall back against the pillows, “but I also haven’t shaved,”

The words run together, but they hear you.

“That’s what you’re worried about?” Wooyoung says and you can hear the smile in his voice, “so what?”

Yunho’s fingers skate softly over your belly, edging close to the seam of your underwear.

“I mean,” Your breath hitches as his hand circles again, “if I knew we were doing this I would have prepared better,”

“I couldn’t care less,” Wooyoung says, “don’t worry about that,”

Your fingers close onto Yunho’s shirt, and he gets your eyes back on his with a soft sound, “Hey,” he murmurs, “relax, focus on me for a second,”

You nod.

“Can I feel?” He murmurs, his fingertips ghosting under the edge of your underwear, “Is that okay?”

“Yes,” Your throat feels dry, but arousal stays pooled in your gut.

His fingers slide under your panties, over your mound to the top of your cunt, slow massaging circles as he explores without ever dropping his hand lower to find more. He groans pleasantly as he touches you, eyes heavy with desire.

“Fuck,” he breathes, “you’re so soft,”

Your breath catches and you can feel your body starting to heat up and respond, sensation sparking through your every nerve ending. It’s strange how good it feels to be seen like this, and stranger still that the rising pleasure in your body doesn’t come with numbness, panic, or outright fear.

All you feel is want.

“I-it’s okay?” You check.

Yunho’s brow creases a little, his eyes flicking over your face, and you watch as he realizes what you’re unsure of, what you’re stumbling over. Your only context with sex was probably porn and college guys with very different expectations than two grown men.

His fingers smooth over the patch of soft hair on your vulva, neatly trimmed but present all the same. With a sigh, he grows a little bolder, cupping your cunt fully in his palm, his fingers resting over the seam of your folds, underwear straining over his knuckles.

Your breath comes quicker and you dry swallow.

“It’s not okay,” He murmurs, voice full of heat, “it’s good.”

You stop breathing entirely.

“Seriously,” Yunho says, “hair, no hair, we don’t care.”

“Not at all,” Wooyoung adds quietly, a little squeeze to your thighs.

“You’re letting us touch you,” Yunho’s hand slides up, returning to the top of your mound, fingertips ever so gently brushing along your lower lips, “whatever you think you know about sex, what men like, put it out of your mind.”

You gasp at his touch, hand fisting in the blankets at the unfamiliar jolt.

Breathless, you smile, “Porn’s unrealistic,” you manage, “isn’t that what you said?”

His gaze warms, “Mhm,” he notes, “and it’s your body, so you do whatever you want, but personally I like it,”

“Same,” Wooyoung nods, this time kissing your inner thigh.

“You d-don’t have to make me feel better,” You brush your hand over Wooyoung’s hair to get him to ease up a little and he smiles up at you, leaning into your touch.

Yunho grins, an amused expression on his face, “I’m not,” his fingers gently stroke the soft curls on your mound, sucking in a slow breath, “you’re a woman, I like that you look like one. I’d want you however, but I won’t lie to you about what I like or the things that get me hard.”

Stunned silent, all you can manage to do is nod, your hands falling slack at your sides as you surrender again to their touch.

They give you a second, just one, watching to see if that was the moment that pushed things too far, but when you don’t say anything Wooyoung nuzzles your inner thigh.

His hands smooth slowly up and down your legs, “Keep going?” He nips gently at the sensitive flesh there

Your breath is thready, and you nod.

“Words, baby,” Yunho prompts you gently.

“Y-yes,” You manage, “I’m okay,”

“Can we take these off?” Yunho asks, voice low and close, his thumb rubbing against the band of your underwear.

It’s your last layer, and you’re not afraid, but you feel everything. Every breath of air against your skin, every sliding touch, the way their hands press and hold, the heat of their lips. You can’t imagine what it will feel like for them to touch you there.

Yunho’s words echo in your mind - It’s not okay. It’s good.

You know he meant it.

“I’m ready,” You nod, your hands trembling at your sides.

They move as a pair again, Yunho slipping his hand under one side while Wooyoung reaches up to hook his thumb in the other. Slowly, they pull down your last layer, and Wooyoung drops them off the side of the bed to land somewhere near your pants.

“T-this too?” You reach for the clasp at the front of your bra.

Yunho sucks in a sharp breath, “Only if you want to,”

“I mean,” You unclip the connection and let the fabric part, “I’m already half naked,”

You push the bra off your arms and toss it aside.

“Jesus,” Yunho’s lips part, his eyes full of heat as he looks over you, “I can’t believe you’re ours tonight,”

You feel a kiss against your inner thigh, but your eyes are locked on Yunho, “Am I,” you swallow back the question, biting your tongue.

“You’re more than good,” He sighs, “you’re a fucking dream,”

You shudder a nervous exhale, smiling now, forehead pressed against his, “S-so are you,”

His lips turn up in a small smile, and he kisses your lips softly before easing you back down into the pillows.

A kiss to your thigh brings your eyes back down, and you feel your cheeks heat as you catch sight of Wooyoung. He’s resting between your open legs, lying on his stomach, one hand on your knee and the other gripping the sheets as if he’s doing his best not to touch you too fast.

His eyes are glued to your sex, an unabashed expression of need all over his face now, his teeth digging into his plush bottom lip.

“Woo,” You murmur.

He blinks fast, clearing his throat and looking up at you, expression smoothing, “Yeah, baby?”

“You’re staring,” You turn his words from earlier back around on him, giving him a soft smile.

“You’re wet,” Wooyoung says, exhaling shakily, “like really, really wet.”

You feel Yunho’s hand tighten just a little on your hip.

“I feel good,” You verbalize it.

Wooyoung nods, and then gingerly he reaches for your hand.

**reminder to go read section two, already posted!

#honeyhotteoks fic #honeyhotteoks updates #Yunho x reader #Wooyoung x reader #yunwoo x reader #Yunho #jeong Yunho #ateez #Wooyoung #jung Wooyoung #yunwoo #Yunho smut #Yunho fic #Wooyoung smut #Wooyoung fic #ateez smut #ateez fic #ateez ff

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honeyhaeya · 5 months ago

Note

I was up all night thinking about a wonwoo fic. Bunny hybrid x Wonwoo. it just fits wonwoo more cus like, he's a nerd, and a computer kind of guy, going to the dark internet just to explore some sht or for fun then he comes across a bunny hybrid for sale in the marketplace. Please notice. Ily and thankyou <3 (ps. i chose to request this to you cus i love your fics sm)

Lean On Me - 내게 기대

Jeon Wonwoo x F!Reader

genre / tags: fluff, smut, hurt/comfort, hybrid AU, bunny!reader x human!wonwoo, gentle dom!wonwoo, breeding Kink (mild undertones), cockwarming (i will never shut up about wonwoo cockwarming), aftercare, established feelings warnings: NSFW (18+ only): explicit smut, detailed descriptions of sexual acts, hybrid characteristics (reader has bunny ears, slight animalistic instincts), mentions of past mistreatment/trauma (handled with care), overstimulation, clingy/intimate dynamic due to reader’s heat cycle, emotional vulnerability during aftercare. smut warnings: fingering, oral (f. receiving), penetration (piv), breeding kink implications (no pregnancy mentioned), cockwarming 9it's just so wonwoo), unprotected sex, sensual dominance from wonwoo, consensual and soft tone throughout. wc: 10,379 a/n: i think i've been writing wonwoo fics too much. i'm in love with jeonghan pls come back. (honestly, i love wonwoo sm too). DON'T LIKE DON"T READ please wtf this is animal play. seventeen taglist: @archivistworld <33 (no pressure, but if you want to be added on my taglists, there's a form i made (check my pinned post and click on "join taglist".) Preview: "Wonwoo’s fingers traced along the edge of your thigh, moving with a patience that made you ache even more. The heat within you pulsed stronger with every gentle touch, every whispered reassurance. ‘Wonwoo... please,’ you whimpered, burying your face in his chest as your tears soaked into his shirt. His voice was low, soothing, as he kissed the crown of your head. ‘I know, bunny. Let me take care of you.’ When his fingers slipped inside you, the relief was instant yet fleeting. The heat still burned, demanding more. And as his lips brushed against your own, you knew you were in safe hands, even as your instincts screamed for something primal.In the aftermath, with his shirt draped over you and his scent everywhere, you curled into his chest. Wonwoo's fingers lazily stroked your ears, his quiet promise lingering in the air. ‘I’ll keep you safe, always.’”

Wonwoo sat in the dim light of his apartment, the soft hum of his computer the only sound in the room. The clock on the wall ticked past 2 a.m., but sleep was the last thing on his mind. He leaned back in his chair, fingers tapping rhythmically against the keyboard as he navigated a hidden marketplace on the dark web.

The site's interface was crude, with grainy images and glitchy text. He wasn't here for anything specific—this was just something he did when he was bored. It wasn't about breaking laws or finding trouble. For Wonwoo, the dark web was a rabbit hole of bizarre curiosities: forums about conspiracy theories, marketplaces selling counterfeit antiques, and coded discussions he'd never understand. Tonight, however, something caught his eye.

A new listing had appeared at the top of the page:

"Hybrid Companion for Sale - Limited Edition, One of a Kind."

The thumbnail image showed a woman, or at least, what looked like one. She had delicate bunny ears that drooped slightly, pale white skin, and wide, doe-like eyes that seemed to stare right through the screen. Her hair was soft and silvery, cascading over her shoulders like freshly fallen snow.

Wonwoo furrowed his brows, unsure whether to laugh or close the tab. "What the hell?" he muttered under his breath, leaning closer. It had to be a hoax, right? Some twisted art project or a desperate scam. But the listing's details were oddly... thorough:

"Bunny Hybrid #1438 Condition: New, untested. Perfect for companionship. Compliant and affectionate. Warning: For indoor use only. Price: 0.15 BTC (approx. ₩5,850,300 KRW - 4,000 USD) Delivery: Discreet, within 48 hours."

Wonwoo's skepticism grew. Untested? Indoor use? The phrasing felt clinical, like she was some kind of product. A chill ran down his spine, but curiosity gnawed at him. He clicked the listing.

The description expanded, revealing more photos. They showed her sitting on a minimalist chair in an empty white room, her ears twitching slightly. She wore a simple white dress, her hands folded neatly in her lap. The closer he looked, the harder it was to dismiss her as a mannequin or a clever CGI creation. She looked alive.

Wonwoo's hand hovered over the keyboard. This was insane. Why was he even considering this? But something about her expression in the photos stopped him. She didn't look scared or sad—just... empty, like she didn't know she was being sold.

"It's fake," he told himself. "It's probably fake."

But the listing had a countdown timer. "Auction closes in 10 minutes."

Before he knew it, Wonwoo had opened his crypto wallet. His fingers moved on autopilot, transferring the required amount to the provided address. The process felt surreal, like he was watching someone else make the decision for him. When the transaction confirmed, he stared at the screen, half expecting the site to crash or for the listing to disappear.

Instead, a message popped up: "Purchase Confirmed. Delivery instructions will follow shortly."

His stomach twisted. What had he just done?

Minutes later, an encrypted email arrived with a single line of text:

"Pick-up location: [Redacted]. Arrive at 11 p.m. tomorrow. Alone."

Wonwoo closed the laptop and pressed his palms against his face. This was either the biggest mistake of his life or the start of something he couldn't quite name.

The next night, Wonwoo pulled his hoodie tighter around himself as he approached the location—an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of town. The air was damp, and the faint sound of dripping water echoed in the distance. His heart raced, every instinct screaming at him to turn back.

Inside, the space was dimly lit, with a single crate in the center of the room. No guards, no people. Just the crate.

He approached cautiously, his footsteps echoing against the concrete floor. The crate was wooden, with slats that allowed him to see inside. He crouched down, peering through the gaps.

You were there, curled up and motionless. Your bunny ears twitched slightly, the only sign you were alive. Up close, you looked even more delicate. Your pale skin seemed to glow faintly under the dim light, and your breathing was soft and steady. You wore the same white dress from the photos, now slightly crumpled.

Wonwoo swallowed hard, unsure of what to do. He tapped lightly on the crate.

Your eyes fluttered open, and you sat up slowly, your gaze locking onto his. For a moment, neither of you moved. Then, you tilted your head, your bunny ears perking up slightly as if studying him.

"Hey," he said awkwardly. "I'm... Wonwoo."

You didn't respond, your expression unreadable. Slowly, you reached out, pressing your hand against the slats of the crate. Your fingers were slender, your nails neatly trimmed. Wonwoo hesitated before pressing his own hand against yours, the wood separating you.

"I'm here to take you home," he said, his voice soft.

You blinked, your ears twitching again. And for the first time, your lips parted.

"Home?" you repeated, your voice barely above a whisper.

Wonwoo sat on the couch, glancing at you from the corner of his eye. You sat on the floor near the coffee table, your posture tense and ears twitching as you took in your new surroundings. You hadn't said much since leaving the warehouse, only responding with short nods or quiet murmurs when he asked if you were okay.

The silence was suffocating. Wonwoo cleared his throat. "Uh, are you hungry? Thirsty?"

You blinked, tilting your head slightly. "Thirsty... what's that?"

His eyebrows shot up. "Thirsty. Like... do you want water?" He stood and walked to the kitchen, grabbing a glass and filling it from the tap. "Here."

You hesitated before taking the glass from his hands. Your fingers brushed his, and he noticed how cool your skin felt. Bringing the glass to your lips, you took a tentative sip, your nose wrinkling slightly at the taste.

"It's... plain," you muttered, setting the glass down.

Wonwoo chuckled softly. "Yeah, it's just water. I guess you're not used to it."

You shrugged, your ears flicking forward. "I don't remember what I'm used to."

That caught him off guard. He crouched down to meet your gaze, his tone careful. "You don't remember anything? Not even where you came from?"

You shook your head, looking away. "Just... flashes. Bright lights. Voices. Nothing else."

Wonwoo frowned, a pang of guilt settling in his chest. Whatever you'd been through, it wasn't normal. He couldn't shake the feeling that you'd been treated more like an object than a person.

"Hey," he said gently, "you don't have to figure everything out right now. Just... take it one step at a time, okay?"

You looked back at him, your wide eyes softening slightly. "Why are you being nice to me?"

The question hung in the air for a moment. Wonwoo rubbed the back of his neck, unsure how to answer. "I don't know," he admitted. "I guess I felt like I couldn't just leave you there."

Your lips curled into the faintest smile, and for the first time, your shoulders relaxed.

Later that night, as Wonwoo set up a makeshift bed for you on the couch, he couldn't shake the feeling that someone—or something—was watching him. He double-checked the locks on the windows and doors, his paranoia rising. It didn't make sense; no one had followed him, and the pickup had been clean.

"Wonwoo?" Your voice broke his train of thought.

He turned to see you standing by the couch, your bunny ears drooping slightly. "Yeah?"

"Are you... afraid of me?"

The question hit him like a truck. "What? No! Why would you think that?"

You hesitated, your fingers fidgeting with the hem of your dress. "Because... they were. The people before you."

Wonwoo's stomach twisted. He approached you slowly, hands raised as if to reassure you. "I'm not afraid of you," he said firmly. "Whatever happened before, it's over. You're safe here."

You studied him for a long moment before nodding. "Okay."

But as you lay down on the couch and he retreated to his room, he couldn't shake the unease creeping over him. Something wasn't right.

The apartment was quiet, save for the soft hum of the refrigerator. Wonwoo lay in his bed, staring at the ceiling, but sleep refused to come. His thoughts kept circling back to you—your hesitance, your fragility, and the way your ears twitched slightly every time he spoke.

A soft creak pulled him from his thoughts.

He turned his head toward the door, catching sight of your silhouette in the faint glow of the hallway light.

"Can't sleep?" he asked, his voice low.

You hesitated before stepping further into the room. "I don't think I've ever slept on a couch before."

Wonwoo sat up, rubbing his face. "Oh. Sorry about that. I should've—"

"It's not bad," you interrupted, your voice soft. "It's just... quiet."

The words made his chest tighten. "Do you want to sit?" He patted the edge of the bed.

You hesitated, your eyes darting to the floor before you shuffled closer, perching on the edge of the mattress. The tension in your shoulders was unmistakable.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked gently.

You glanced at him, your ears twitching slightly. "Talk about what?"

"Whatever's on your mind."

A soft, humorless laugh escaped your lips. "You really want to hear it?"

He nodded, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees. "Yeah. I do."

You sighed, your gaze fixed on your hands. "I don't know who I am. I don't know why I was there or what they wanted from me. All I know is... every time I think about going back, it feels like my chest is caving in."

Wonwoo's hands clenched into fists. He hated the thought of you being scared, of someone putting you in a position where fear was all you knew.

"You're not going back," he said firmly.

Your head snapped up, your wide eyes meeting his. "How can you be so sure?"

"Because I won't let it happen," he said, his voice steady. "I don't know how or why I ended up finding you, but I'm not going to let anything happen to you now that you're here."

The weight of his words hung in the air. Your ears lowered slightly, and for the first time, he saw a glimmer of relief in your expression.

"Thank you," you whispered.

Without thinking, Wonwoo reached out, his hand brushing against yours. Your fingers twitched but didn't pull away. It was a small gesture, but it felt monumental.

"You're not alone anymore," he murmured.

For the first time, the tight knot in your chest loosened.

The next morning, Wonwoo woke up to the smell of burnt toast. Groaning, he stumbled out of bed, rubbing his eyes as he made his way to the kitchen.

There you were, standing by the toaster with a frown, a slightly charred piece of bread in your hand.

"Uh, what's going on?" he asked, stifling a laugh.

You turned, your cheeks flushing pink. "I thought I'd try to... cook. But it's harder than I thought."

He walked over, taking the toast from your hand. "You're supposed to set the timer, not just guess."

You crossed your arms, your nose scrunching in frustration. "Well, no one told me that."

Wonwoo couldn't hold back his laughter this time. The sound startled you, and before you knew it, you found yourself laughing too. It was small and hesitant at first, but then it grew, bubbling up from somewhere deep inside you.

It was the first time he saw you smile.

And damn, it made his heart stutter.

After breakfast—well, what could be salvaged from your experimental cooking—Wonwoo sat across from you at the small dining table. He had insisted on making the second round of toast himself, and now the two of you sat in companionable silence, nibbling on toast and sipping coffee (or, in your case, a very sugary cup that he'd adjusted after seeing you gag at the first sip).

"So," Wonwoo said after a moment, breaking the silence. "Do you have a name?"

You froze mid-bite, your ears perking up. "A name?"

He nodded, his eyes soft. "Yeah. What do people call you? Or... did they call you anything?"

You frowned, the question pulling at a thread of memory that seemed just out of reach. "I... think it's Y/N," you said slowly, the name feeling both familiar and strange on your tongue.

"Y/N," Wonwoo repeated, testing it out. He smiled slightly. "It suits you."

A blush crept up your neck, and you quickly looked down at your plate. "It's just a name."

"It's your name," he corrected gently. "That makes it special."

You glanced at him, your chest tightening at the sincerity in his gaze. No one had ever spoken to you like this—like you were a person, not a thing.

"But," he added, leaning back in his chair with a playful smirk, "I think I'll call you Bun instead."

"Bun?" You blinked, your nose wrinkling slightly.

"Yeah," he said, his smirk widening. "You've got bunny ears, and it's cute. Just like you."

Your ears twitched furiously at the compliment, and you couldn't stop the blush from spreading across your cheeks. "You can't just—say things like that."

"Why not?" he teased, his voice light. "It's true."

You glared at him, though the effect was ruined by the way your lips twitched upward. "Fine. Then I'm calling you Woo. See how you like it."

He chuckled, the sound warm and rich. "Woo, huh? I think I can live with that."

For the first time in what felt like forever, you felt a genuine warmth blooming in your chest—a feeling you didn't quite know how to name.

That evening, the two of you ended up on the couch, a random movie playing in the background as Wonwoo showed you how to navigate the TV remote. You had leaned closer to him, your curiosity outweighing your usual cautiousness.

"And this button changes the volume," he explained, his voice low.

You nodded, your face scrunched in concentration as you tried it out. The sound of the TV grew louder, and you quickly pressed the button again to lower it, a triumphant smile lighting up your face.

"See? Easy," he said, his lips quirking up as he watched you.

You turned to him, your smile fading slightly as you realized how close you were. His face was only inches from yours, his dark eyes steady and unreadable.

"Woo?" you whispered, your voice barely audible.

"Yeah?"

"Why are you so nice to me?"

He tilted his head, his gaze softening. "I already told you. You deserve to feel safe."

"But why do you care so much?" you pressed, your eyes searching his face for answers.

He hesitated, his throat bobbing as he swallowed. "I don't know," he admitted finally. "Maybe because you remind me that... not everything in this world is as cold as it seems. You're... different, Bun. And I want to protect that."

Your breath caught in your throat. No one had ever spoken to you like that—like you were something worth protecting, worth caring for.

Without thinking, you reached out, your fingers brushing against his. It was a small gesture, but it felt like the world had shifted.

"Thank you," you whispered, your voice trembling.

Wonwoo's hand turned, his fingers curling gently around yours. "You don't have to thank me," he said softly. "Just... stay. That's enough."

Your heart ached at the raw honesty in his words. And for the first time, you allowed yourself to believe that maybe, just maybe, you had found a place where you truly belonged.

The night deepened, the warm glow of the living room casting soft shadows on the walls. Wonwoo had stepped into the kitchen to grab some water, leaving you curled up on the couch with a blanket draped over your shoulders.

You tugged the fabric closer, your thoughts swirling. For the first time in forever, you didn't feel like you had to be on guard. You didn't have to hide or brace yourself for what might come next.

But that didn't stop the memories from creeping in.

"Bun?" Wonwoo's voice broke through the fog. He was standing in front of you now, holding out a glass of water. "You okay?"

You blinked, quickly nodding. "Y-Yeah."

He didn't look convinced. "You sure? You've been quiet for a while."

You hesitated, your fingers clutching the edge of the blanket. "I was just... thinking."

"About what?" he asked, sitting down beside you.

You swallowed hard, debating whether to tell him. But something in his gaze—steady, patient, understanding—made you feel like you could.

"It's about... me," you said slowly, your voice barely above a whisper. "What I am."

Wonwoo stayed quiet, giving you space to continue.

"I'm not like you," you said, your ears flattening against your head. "I don't just... exist like a normal person. There are... things about me—about my body—that I can't control."

He tilted his head slightly. "Like what?"

You took a deep breath, your cheeks burning with shame. "Like when I go into heat."

Wonwoo's eyes widened slightly, but he didn't say anything, waiting for you to explain.

"It happens every few months," you continued, your voice trembling. "It's... painful. And if it's not treated, it gets worse. But..." You paused, your chest tightening.

"But?" he prompted gently.

Your voice broke as you said the next words. "But the people who used to 'treat' me... they didn't care about the pain. They only cared about using me for themselves."

The silence that followed was deafening. You couldn't bring yourself to look at him, too afraid of what you might see in his eyes—disgust, pity, or worse.

But when Wonwoo finally spoke, his voice was calm and steady. "That's not going to happen again."

You blinked, glancing up at him. "What?"

He shifted closer, his expression firm. "No one's ever going to hurt you like that again. I promise."

Tears pricked at your eyes, and you quickly looked away. "You say that, but... what if it happens? What if I can't control it, and you—"

"Stop," he said, his tone gentle but firm. He reached out, his hand resting lightly on yours. "I'm not like them. I'd never take advantage of you."

The sincerity in his voice made your chest ache. For the first time, you felt like someone saw you—not as an object or a tool, but as a person.

"Do you... do you really mean that?" you whispered.

He nodded. "Every word. And if you ever feel like it's too much, we'll figure it out together. On your terms."

You couldn't stop the tears from falling now, the weight of his words breaking down the walls you had built around your heart.

Wonwoo reached out, his thumb gently brushing away a tear. "Hey. It's okay. You're safe here, Bun."

For the first time, you believed him.

Wonwoo watched as you nodded off on the couch, your breathing evening out, though your grip on the blanket was still tight. Even in your sleep, it seemed like you were holding onto years of fear and mistrust.

He sighed softly, standing to grab the glass you'd left on the coffee table. The sound of his footsteps was faint, careful not to wake you as he moved to the kitchen.

It wasn't like him to get involved in something so... complicated. He usually preferred simplicity—quiet evenings alone, a book in hand, the hum of his PC in the background. He didn't go out of his way for people, not because he didn't care, but because people rarely gave him a reason to.

But you? You were different.

He leaned against the counter, arms crossed as he stared at the glass. There was something about you that tugged at his attention, something beyond the strangeness of finding you on a marketplace. You were guarded but vulnerable, sharp but soft. It made him want to protect you, even if he wasn't sure why.

When he returned to the living room, you were awake, your wide eyes watching him from beneath the blanket.

"Did I wake you?" he asked, his voice low.

You shook your head, your ears twitching slightly. "No. I just... I couldn't sleep."

He sat down on the armchair across from you, his movements slow and deliberate. "Something on your mind?"

You hesitated, your fingers curling around the edge of the blanket. "It's just... strange," you admitted. "Being here. With you."

He tilted his head slightly, waiting for you to elaborate.

"I'm not used to this," you said quietly. "Not used to... feeling safe."

Wonwoo's gaze softened, though his expression remained neutral. "You don't have to get used to it all at once," he said after a moment. "Take your time."

Your lips parted slightly, surprised by his words. Most people didn't give you time—they expected things from you, demanded things you weren't ready to give. But Wonwoo? He was different.

"Why are you being so nice to me?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He shrugged, leaning back in the chair. "I don't know. Maybe I just like rabbits."

A small, breathless laugh escaped you, and his lips quirked into a faint smile.

"I mean it," you said, your tone soft but insistent. "You don't even know me."

"You don't know me either," he pointed out. "Maybe I'm just trying to get on your good side so you don't eat all my snacks."

You laughed again, the sound lighter this time. "I don't think that's how this works."

He shrugged, his eyes glinting with quiet amusement. "Maybe not. But if it makes you laugh, I'll take it."

For a moment, the room was quiet again, but it wasn't the heavy, suffocating silence you were used to. It was... comfortable.

"Wonwoo?" you said softly.

"Yeah?"

"Thank you," you said, your voice barely audible.

He didn't respond right away, his gaze steady as he looked at you. Then, with a small nod, he said, "You don't have to thank me, Bun. Just get some rest."

You smiled faintly, your heart feeling a little lighter as you settled back into the couch.

And for the first time, you felt like maybe, just maybe, things could be different.

The morning sun filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the living room. You stirred awake, stretching slightly under the blanket. Wonwoo was already up, sitting at the dining table with his laptop open, headphones on, and a cup of coffee in hand.

His attention was glued to the screen, his expression calm but focused. You watched him for a moment, feeling a strange sense of peace.

"You're up early," you said, your voice soft.

He glanced over at you, pulling one side of his headphones off. "Couldn't sleep much," he replied. "Thought I'd get some work done. How about you? Did you sleep okay?"

You nodded, sitting up and clutching the blanket around you. "Better than I expected. Thanks for... everything."

He gave you a small nod before returning his attention to the screen.

As you rubbed the sleep from your eyes, you realized something: you hadn't had a proper bath in... well, you couldn't remember how long. Your ears twitched slightly at the thought, and you stood, glancing toward the hallway.

"Wonwoo?" you called hesitantly.

"Hmm?" he replied, not looking up.

"Where's the bathroom?"

He pointed down the hall without breaking his focus, but when you hesitated, he finally looked at you. "Everything okay?"

"I..." You fidgeted with the hem of the blanket, avoiding his gaze. "I don't really... know how to do it myself."

That caught his attention. He blinked at you, his eyebrows slightly furrowed. "You don't know how to... take a bath?"

You shook your head, your cheeks warming. "I always had someone help me before," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

He stared at you for a moment, processing your words. Then he sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Alright. Come on."

"What?" You looked at him, wide-eyed.

"You said you need help, right?" He stood, closing his laptop. "Let's figure it out."

Your ears twitched nervously as you followed him down the hall, clutching the blanket tightly around you.

When he opened the bathroom door, you peeked inside. It was clean and simple, with a glass shower and a bathtub on one side. Wonwoo turned to you, his expression unreadable.

"Alright," he said, crossing his arms. "What do you need me to do?"

You hesitated, your cheeks flushing. "I don't know... maybe just show me how it works?"

He nodded, stepping into the bathroom. He turned on the faucet, adjusting the temperature and letting the water fill the tub. "It's pretty straightforward," he said. "You just..."

He trailed off when he noticed you still standing by the door, fidgeting nervously. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"It's just... a little overwhelming," you admitted. "I'm not used to doing things on my own."

He sighed again, softer this time. "Okay. Look, I'll help you get started, but you're going to have to trust me, alright?"

You nodded, biting your lip.

He grabbed a fluffy towel from the rack and handed it to you. "Here. Wrap this around yourself and let me know when you're ready."

You stepped inside, closing the door halfway before wrapping the towel around you. "Okay," you called out nervously.

Wonwoo stepped back in, careful to keep his eyes on the faucet. "Alright," he said, his voice calm. "You can sit on the edge of the tub for now. I'll show you how to use the showerhead and the soap."

You followed his instructions, perching on the edge as he adjusted the water. He handed you a bottle of soap, explaining how to lather it and rinse it off. His voice was steady, patient, and somehow soothing.

When you fumbled with the soap, he caught your hand gently, guiding you. "Like this," he said, his fingers warm against yours.

You glanced up at him, your heart skipping a beat. For someone so quiet and reserved, he had a way of making you feel... safe.

"Got it?" he asked, his eyes meeting yours.

You nodded, your cheeks flushing. "Yeah... thanks, Wonwoo."

He gave you a small smile, standing up. "I'll give you some privacy now. If you need anything, just call me."

As he left the bathroom, closing the door behind him, you couldn't help but feel a strange warmth in your chest. Maybe, just maybe, this new chapter in your life wouldn't be so bad after all.

It started out small.

You didn't even notice it at first—just a faint, restless warmth in the pit of your stomach. It was subtle, ignorable even, as you moved through the rest of the day. Wonwoo had gone back to working on his laptop while you explored the apartment, your curiosity keeping you distracted for a while.

But as the hours dragged on, the warmth grew. It wasn't just in your stomach anymore; it spread through your chest, your arms, and your legs, like an itch just beneath your skin that you couldn't quite reach.

By evening, you found yourself sitting on the couch, knees pulled up to your chest, biting your lip as you tried to focus on the TV. But it was impossible. The sensation was overwhelming now, and your ears twitched uncontrollably as you fought to keep your breathing steady.

"Hey," Wonwoo's voice pulled you out of your thoughts. He stood in the doorway, his brow furrowed as he looked at you. "You okay?"

You didn't trust yourself to look at him. Your cheeks burned as you nodded quickly. "I'm fine," you mumbled, your voice tight.

He didn't look convinced. Wonwoo stepped closer, his hands shoved into the pockets of his sweatpants. "You don't look fine," he said. "What's wrong?"

You shook your head, curling up tighter. "It's nothing," you insisted. "I just... need a minute."

But he didn't leave. Instead, he crouched down in front of you, his dark eyes scanning your face. "You're warm," he said, his voice soft but concerned. "Do you have a fever?"

You flinched as he reached out, his hand brushing against your forehead. The touch sent a jolt of electricity through you, and you jerked back, your ears flattening against your head.

"It's not a fever," you said quickly, your voice trembling.

Wonwoo tilted his head, his gaze narrowing. "Then what is it?"

You hesitated, your cheeks burning as you tried to find the words. "I... I think it's my heat," you finally admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

He blinked, clearly caught off guard. "Your heat?"

You nodded, burying your face in your hands. "It's normal for hybrids," you explained, your voice muffled. "It happens every few months. But I didn't think it would happen so soon..."

Wonwoo was silent for a moment, and you dared to peek at him through your fingers. He looked... surprisingly calm.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" he asked, his voice steady.

Your heart skipped a beat at the question. You hadn't expected him to take it so seriously. "I don't know," you admitted. "It's usually... manageable. But it's worse when I'm alone."

He nodded, standing up and holding a hand out to you. "Come on," he said.

You stared at his hand, confused. "What?"

"You said it's worse when you're alone," he said simply. "So don't be alone."

Your cheeks burned as you hesitated, but eventually, you reached out and let him pull you to your feet. He led you to the couch and sat down, patting the spot next to him.

You sat down tentatively, your heart racing as the warmth in your chest seemed to grow even stronger. Wonwoo didn't say anything, but he placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, his touch grounding.

"Better?" he asked after a moment.

You nodded, leaning into him slightly. "Yeah... a little."

As the evening went on, you found yourself growing more comfortable in his presence. The warmth was still there, but it was less overwhelming now, tempered by the steady rhythm of his breathing and the gentle weight of his hand.

For the first time since the heat had started, you felt like you could breathe again.

Your whole body was burning. It wasn't just the heat in your stomach anymore—it was a desperate ache that throbbed with every passing second, pooling low in your core. You squirmed against the couch, trying to find some relief, but it only made it worse.

Wonwoo's hand was on your head, his fingers lazily stroking through the fur at the base of your ears. The slow, comforting rhythm sent shivers down your spine, but instead of soothing you, it only stoked the fire inside you.

You swallowed hard, trying to ignore it, trying to focus on anything else. But the longer you sat there, the harder it became. Your thighs pressed together involuntarily, your body instinctively searching for some kind of release.

Wonwoo noticed.

"You're fidgeting," he said quietly, his deep voice cutting through the haze in your mind. "Are you okay?"

You froze, your ears twitching at the sound of his voice. "I-I'm fine," you stammered, even though you weren't.

He didn't buy it. His hand moved from your ears to your shoulder, gently turning you to face him. His dark eyes searched yours, and the concern in his gaze made your heart ache.

"You're not fine," he said softly. "Talk to me. What's going on?"

You bit your lip, looking away. How could you possibly tell him? How could you explain this unbearable, shameful need that was consuming you?

"It's... it's my heat," you finally admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "It's bad this time."

His eyes widened slightly, but he didn't pull away. If anything, his grip on your shoulder tightened, grounding you. "How bad?" he asked.

Your cheeks burned as you avoided his gaze. "It hurts," you murmured. "My body... it's aching. I feel like I'm going to explode."

Wonwoo was silent for a long moment, his hand still resting on your shoulder. When he finally spoke, his voice was calm and steady, but there was an edge of something else—something you couldn't quite place.

"Have you ever... had anyone help you before?" he asked carefully.

You nodded, your throat tightening at the memory. "Other hybrids would help sometimes," you said. "But it was never... gentle. They only cared about... breeding."

His jaw tightened, his expression darkening slightly. "And the men?" he asked, his voice dangerously low.

You hesitated, your ears flattening against your head. "They didn't care about me either," you admitted. "They just used me for their own pleasure."

The silence that followed was heavy, filled with unspoken anger and something else—something softer, more tender.

"You deserve better," Wonwoo said finally, his voice firm. "You deserve to be cared for."

Your heart skipped a beat at his words. "Wonwoo..."

His hand moved to your cheek, his thumb brushing against your skin. "If you'll let me," he said softly, "I want to take care of you."

Your breath caught in your throat. The heat in your body flared at his touch, but it wasn't just physical anymore. There was something deeper, something that made your chest ache just as much as your body did.

"Are you sure?" you whispered, your voice trembling.

He nodded, his dark eyes holding yours. "I want to help you," he said. "But only if you want me to."

You hesitated for only a moment before nodding, your cheeks burning. "Okay," you murmured.

Wonwoo's lips curved into a small, reassuring smile. "Good," he said. "Just tell me if it's too much, okay?"

You nodded again, your heart racing as he leaned in closer, his warm breath brushing against your skin.

Wonwoo's hand stayed on your cheek, his touch impossibly gentle. His thumb grazed along your skin, grounding you even as your body trembled. The ache inside you was unbearable, but somehow, his presence made it a little easier to endure.

"I'll go slow," he murmured, his voice low and soothing, as if he could sense your nerves. "Just trust me."

You nodded, swallowing hard as his other hand came to rest on your waist, pulling you closer. Your knees pressed into the couch on either side of him, and you felt his warmth radiating against you. It was overwhelming, but it wasn't bad. It was... comforting.

His fingers slid to your ears, brushing over them in a way that sent a shiver down your spine. You couldn't help the small, breathy sound that escaped your lips, and his eyes darkened slightly at the sound.

"Does that feel good?" he asked, his voice soft yet weighted.

You nodded, biting your lip as your hands instinctively gripped the fabric of his shirt. "Yeah," you whispered, your voice shaky.

His lips curved into the faintest smile. "You're sensitive," he murmured, his fingers continuing to trace along your ears. "I'll be careful."

The way he spoke to you, the way he looked at you—like you were something precious, something worth protecting—made your chest ache almost as much as your body burned.

"Wonwoo..." You didn't even know what you were asking for, but his name slipped from your lips like a plea.

"I know," he murmured. "I've got you."

His hands slid down your back, pulling you flush against him. Your forehead rested against his shoulder as his fingers traced small, soothing circles along your spine. It wasn't enough to stop the heat, but it was enough to make you feel safe.

Slowly, he tilted your chin up, his dark eyes searching yours. There was no rush, no impatience. Only warmth and care.

"Is this okay?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded, your breath hitching as his lips brushed against yours—tentative at first, testing the waters. But when you leaned into him, he deepened the kiss, his hand sliding to the back of your neck to hold you steady.

The heat in your body flared, but this time, it wasn't unbearable. It was electric, sparking to life with every touch, every movement.

His lips left yours to trail along your jaw, down the column of your neck, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake. You couldn't stop the small, breathy noises that escaped you, and you felt him smile against your skin.

"Still okay?" he asked, his voice rougher now, laced with something deeper.

"Yes," you whispered, your fingers curling into his hair. "Please... don't stop."

He didn't. His hands explored your body with a gentleness you'd never experienced before, his touch careful and measured. He was patient, never rushing, always watching your reactions to make sure you were comfortable.

Your body moved instinctively against his, searching for relief, and he guided you through it, his voice a soothing constant in your ear.

"You're doing so well," he murmured, his lips brushing against your temple. "I've got you. Just let go."

And for the first time, you did.

Wonwoo's gaze softened, his fingers gently retreating from your trembling body. He leaned closer, cupping your flushed face with his hand. "You're lying," he murmured, his deep voice steady yet filled with concern. "Your body's still burning up."

You avoided his eyes, embarrassed by how the heat in your core seemed to intensify again, worse than before. It wasn't something you could control, and you hated feeling this vulnerable in front of him.

"It's... just how it is," you whispered, your voice shaky. "I'll be fine. I don't want to bother you—"

"Stop that," he interrupted, his tone firm but still gentle. "You're not a bother, and I told you I'd take care of you."

His words made your chest tighten, a strange warmth blooming there, different from the feverish heat that raged through the rest of your body. You looked up at him, your ears twitching slightly as his thumb brushed over your cheek.

"But... I've never done this with anyone I trust," you admitted, your voice barely audible. "I don't know what to do."

Wonwoo's lips quirked into the faintest smile, his hand moving to gently stroke your ears again, as if to soothe you. "You don't have to do anything," he reassured you. "Just tell me what feels good, and I'll handle the rest. Okay?"

You hesitated for a moment before nodding, your fingers clutching onto his shirt like it was the only thing keeping you grounded.

He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before pulling back to meet your eyes. "Let's try to make this a little easier for you," he said, his hands moving to carefully lift you into his lap.

The shift in position sent a jolt of warmth through your body, and you instinctively buried your face in his shoulder, your arms wrapping around his neck. His hands settled on your waist, holding you securely as he whispered against your ear.

"Just relax," he said softly, his breath warm against your skin. "Let me take care of you."

His hands began to move again, trailing down your sides, his touch firm yet unhurried. The contrast of his cool fingers against your heated skin made you shiver, and a soft whimper escaped your lips as he dipped lower, tracing the curve of your thighs.

"Wonwoo..." His name left your lips in a breathy plea, and he responded with a low hum, his lips brushing against your temple.

"I'm here," he murmured, his voice steady and comforting. "I've got you."

As his hands worked their way back to your aching core, you felt your body tense in anticipation, your breath hitching when his fingers slid between your folds once again. He was slow, deliberate, as if he was determined to learn exactly what made you feel good.

You couldn't stop the soft moans that spilled from your lips as his movements grew more confident, his thumb circling your clit in a way that made your entire body tremble. He watched you carefully, his dark eyes filled with a mix of concern and fascination, as if he couldn't get enough of the way you responded to his touch.

"You're so beautiful like this," he said softly, his voice laced with something deeper, something that sent a shiver down your spine. "Don't hold back. Let me hear you."

His words broke through the last of your hesitation, and you let yourself fall into the sensation, your head tilting back as waves of pleasure rolled through you. But even as your body tensed and finally released, you could feel the heat building again, stronger than before.

You let out a shaky breath, your forehead resting against his shoulder as your ears drooped slightly. "Wonwoo... it's not stopping," you admitted, your voice trembling with frustration and embarrassment.

He tightened his hold on you, his fingers gently brushing through your hair. "Then we'll keep going," he said simply, his tone unwavering. "I'll stay with you until it's over."

You looked up at him, your eyes wide and filled with uncertainty. "You... you'd really do that for me?"

He smiled, the kind of soft, reassuring smile that made your heart ache. "Of course. I'd do anything for you."

The desperation in your voice, the way your trembling body clung to him—it was enough to make Wonwoo's self-control unravel. He brushed your tears away with a gentle hand, his dark eyes meeting yours, searching for any hesitation. When he saw none, only the pleading desperation in your gaze, he nodded softly.

"You sure, bun?" he asked, his voice thick with restraint, but the nickname rolled off his tongue like honey.

You could only nod frantically, your hands gripping his arms. "Please," you whispered, the ache too unbearable to handle any longer.

Wonwoo moved carefully, lowering himself between your legs, his broad shoulders holding your thighs apart. His fingers slid down to spread your folds again, his touch deliberate, making sure you were still ready for him. The sight of you, wet and needy, made him groan low in his throat, his cock straining against the last layer of fabric between you.

He pulled his underwear down in one swift motion, his length springing free. You gasped at the sheer size of him, the heat in your core only intensifying as you realized what was about to happen.

"I'll go slow," he murmured, positioning himself at your entrance. The tip of his cock teased your slick folds, and you whimpered at the sensation, your hips bucking instinctively.

The moment he started to push in, you moaned loudly, your body arching as the stretch sent a wave of pleasure and pain through you. He froze halfway, giving you time to adjust, his hand stroking your side in soothing circles.

"You're doing so well," he murmured, his voice a mix of praise and restraint. "Relax for me, bun. I don't want to hurt you."

His words melted into your ears, and you tried to relax, focusing on the way his hands steadied you. Slowly, he pushed in further, filling you inch by inch until he was fully seated inside you. You let out a breathy moan, your hands clutching at his shoulders as the overwhelming fullness consumed you.

"God, you're so tight," he groaned, his head dropping to your shoulder. "So perfect."

The heat in you was relentless, but the way he stretched and filled you brought a strange sense of relief, as if he was the only thing that could soothe the ache. When he started to move, pulling out slowly before thrusting back in, your body reacted instinctively, your hips lifting to meet his.

"Wonwoo... faster," you begged, your voice trembling as the pleasure began to overshadow the pain.

He didn't hesitate, his thrusts growing faster and deeper, each one hitting a spot inside you that made you cry out his name. The sounds of skin against skin filled the room, along with your soft cries and his low, guttural groans.

"You're so good for me," he rasped, his lips finding your neck, kissing and biting softly as he pounded into you. "Taking me so well."

Your ears twitched at the praise, and your hands slid up to tangle in his hair, pulling him closer. Every movement, every thrust seemed to push you closer to the edge, the heat in your core intensifying until it felt like you might explode.

"Wonwoo, I—I'm close," you whimpered, your nails digging into his back as your body tensed beneath him.

He nodded, his pace quickening as he held you tighter, determined to bring you over the edge. "Let go, bun. I'm right here. Let go for me."

His words were all it took to push you over, your orgasm crashing through you like a tidal wave. You cried out his name, your body shaking as the heat finally broke, leaving you breathless and trembling in his arms.

Wonwoo followed shortly after, his thrusts growing erratic as he buried himself deep inside you, groaning your name as he came. The feeling of his warmth filling you made your body relax completely, the last remnants of your heat fading away.

He stayed there for a moment, his forehead resting against yours as you both caught your breath. His hand came up to stroke your ear gently, his touch soothing as you leaned into him.

"You okay?" he asked softly, his voice laced with concern.

You nodded, a small, tired smile tugging at your lips. "Yeah... I feel so much better now. Thank you, Wonwoo."

He chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "You don't have to thank me. I'll always take care of you, bun."

Wonwoo's arms stayed wrapped around your waist as you sat perched on his lap, your legs straddling him. His forehead rested lightly against yours, and he let out a soft hum, his thumb tracing gentle circles over your lower back. You were still catching your breath, your body trembling slightly, but the closeness between you was soothing.

"You're adorable," he murmured, his lips brushing against yours in a soft kiss, as if testing the waters.

Your hands slid up his chest instinctively, clutching at his hoodie for balance. "Says the guy who just—" you paused, cheeks warming, "—made me feel things I didn't think were possible."

Wonwoo smirked faintly, his hands resting on your hips. "Well, I guess we both learned something new today," he teased, leaning in to capture your lips again.

The kiss deepened, slow and unhurried, like he was savoring the taste of you. His hand wandered to the small of your back, holding you securely in place as you pressed your body closer to his. The warmth between you both was intoxicating, and for a moment, it felt like the world outside didn't exist—only the two of you tangled together on the couch.

You broke the kiss, panting softly, your forehead resting against his. "Wonwoo..." you whispered, voice shy yet yearning.

His eyes searched yours, filled with a tenderness that made your chest ache. "What is it, bun?"

You smiled softly, your fingers brushing against the nape of his neck. "I feel... safe with you," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

His heart swelled at your words, and he pressed another kiss to your lips, gentle and reassuring. "You'll always be safe with me," he said firmly, his hand stroking your ear affectionately, earning a soft whimper from you.

As the heat of the moment lingered, Wonwoo shifted slightly, careful not to move too much and overwhelm your still-sensitive body. The weight of the intimacy between you felt heavy but comforting, like a quiet promise unspoken.

"You're really something, y'know," he muttered, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear.

You let out a quiet giggle, your cheeks flushing. "And you're not so bad yourself," you teased, nuzzling against him, your ears twitching slightly from the affectionate strokes of his fingers.

He let out a quiet laugh, his chest rumbling beneath you. "Guess we make a good pair then."

The two of you stayed like that, wrapped in each other's arms, sharing soft kisses and whispered words. The tension from earlier was gone, replaced with a warm, unspoken connection that neither of you wanted to let go of.

Wonwoo let out a soft groan, his hands firmly gripping your hips as you shifted slightly on his lap. The motion sent a jolt through both of you, and you gasped, your body still sensitive from earlier. His length was still buried deep inside you, and the intimate connection left your cheeks flushed and your heartbeat erratic.

"Careful," he murmured, his voice low and strained, the warmth of his breath brushing against your cheek. "I'm trying to take it slow, but you're making it hard."

You bit your lip, your hands braced on his shoulders for balance. "I-I wasn't trying to do anything," you whispered, your voice shy yet laced with a tinge of mischief.

He smirked at your flustered state, his hands sliding up to your waist to hold you steady. "Sure you weren't," he teased, leaning in to kiss the corner of your lips.

Your ears twitched slightly at the sensation, and you couldn't help but let out a soft whimper, your body instinctively clenching around him. The reaction drew a deep groan from Wonwoo, his grip on you tightening as his self-control teetered on the edge.

"You're going to drive me insane," he muttered, his forehead pressing against yours.

You giggled softly, a shy smile playing on your lips. "Maybe I like seeing you like this," you teased, your voice barely above a whisper.

Wonwoo's eyes darkened slightly at your words, a playful smirk curling at the corners of his mouth. "Oh, is that so?" he asked, his tone dripping with mock challenge.

Before you could respond, he shifted his hips slightly, the movement sending a spark of pleasure through your body. You gasped, your fingers digging into his shoulders as your breath hitched.

"W-Wonwoo!" you stammered, your cheeks burning.

He chuckled softly, his hands guiding your hips to keep you steady. "Relax, bun," he said gently, his tone soothing yet teasing. "I've got you."

The way he looked at you—like you were the only thing that mattered in the world—made your heart flutter. You leaned in, capturing his lips in a tender kiss, your body instinctively responding to his touch. The warmth between you was overwhelming, yet you couldn't bring yourself to pull away.

As the two of you stayed locked in each other's embrace, the world outside faded away. It was just you and Wonwoo, connected in a way that felt deeper than words could ever describe.

Wonwoo's hands slowly roamed up your back as you remained seated in his lap, the warmth between your bodies making you feel like you were melting into him. His lips brushed against yours in a slow, lazy kiss, and the intimacy of the moment made your ears twitch slightly.

"You okay?" he asked softly, his thumb brushing soothing circles on your hip.

You nodded, nuzzling into his neck, but your body betrayed you. The heat still lingered, subtle but growing again, your sensitivity making you squirm slightly. Wonwoo's hands tightened their hold on you, sensing your restlessness.

"Still not enough, huh?" he murmured, his voice low and filled with understanding.

"I-It's not..." you trailed off, too embarrassed to finish your sentence, but he tilted your chin up, his eyes meeting yours with a gentle, reassuring gaze.

"I'll take care of you," he promised, his lips brushing yours softly before his hands gripped your hips. With a slow movement, he adjusted your position, and the subtle shift made you moan quietly.

Wonwoo leaned back on the couch, guiding you to move at your own pace, letting you take control. You slowly lifted yourself before sliding back down, and the stretch had both of you exhaling in unison. The intimacy of it—the closeness—made your chest tighten with an overwhelming mix of emotions.

You began moving with his help, finding a rhythm that had you both panting softly. The warmth of his hands on your waist, his whispered words of encouragement, and the way he looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered made your heart race.

"Wonwoo..." you moaned softly, your hands braced on his chest as you moved.

"You're doing so good," he praised, his voice strained but tender. His hands guided your movements, his thumbs brushing over your skin in soothing strokes as he watched you lose yourself to the moment.

The pace gradually increased, your movements becoming more desperate as the pleasure built higher and higher. Wonwoo met you with soft thrusts, his control evident in the way he moved to match your rhythm perfectly.

When you finally reached your peak, your body trembled in his arms, and he held you close, whispering soothing words as you rode out your release. He wasn't far behind, his grip tightening as he followed you over the edge, his groan muffled against your shoulder.

You both stilled, panting heavily, and Wonwoo's arms wrapped around you to pull you into his chest. The weight of exhaustion mixed with relief settled over you, and you nuzzled into him, feeling safe and cherished.

"I think you're trying to kill me," Wonwoo joked softly, his lips pressing a gentle kiss to your temple.

You giggled, your ears twitching slightly as you leaned into him. "Sorry," you mumbled, though your tone was anything but apologetic.

He chuckled, his hands gently stroking your back. "Don't be. Just... don't move for a while. Let's stay like this," he whispered, his voice filled with affection.

And for a moment, everything felt perfect. But as the heat of the moment faded, the reality of your situation began creeping back in. The two of you had crossed a line, one that could never be undone.

Still, you stayed curled up in Wonwoo's arms, savoring the peace before the world outside the walls of his apartment could interfere once more.

The soft sunlight filtered through the curtains, warming your skin as you stirred awake. You blinked sleepily, the ache of last night still lingering in your body. The weight of his arm around your waist was grounding, protective. Wonwoo was still fast asleep, his chest rising and falling steadily, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to admire him. His face looked softer in the morning light, his sharp features relaxed into something impossibly gentle.

Your bunny ears twitched as his grip tightened slightly, pulling you closer even in his sleep. It was... cozy. Too cozy. You weren't used to this—waking up somewhere that felt safe. You almost didn't want to move, afraid that it would shatter whatever fragile bubble the two of you had formed.

But the warmth between your legs made you squirm slightly, a reminder of everything that had happened the night before. Your face flushed at the memory. You'd never been cared for like that—never had someone look at you like you were more than just... something to use. And yet, there he was, holding you like you were the most precious thing in the world.

Your ears perked up when you felt him stir. His hand flexed on your waist before his eyes fluttered open. His gaze was hazy, still heavy with sleep, but it softened immediately when he saw you.

"Morning," he mumbled, his voice deep and gravelly.

You nodded shyly. "Good morning."

His thumb traced lazy circles on your skin, and you could feel the heat rushing to your cheeks again. "How are you feeling?" he asked, his eyes searching yours.

"I'm okay," you murmured, though your voice wavered slightly. "A little... sore, maybe."

Wonwoo's brows furrowed slightly. "Did I hurt you?"

You shook your head quickly. "No, no! It's not that. I'm just... not used to it. To... someone being gentle."

He didn't respond immediately, but the way his hand tightened on your waist said enough. "You deserve gentle," he said quietly, his tone firm like he wanted to make sure you believed him.

Your chest tightened at his words, and you looked away, unsure of how to respond. This was all so new—too new. And yet, you didn't want it to stop.

The moment was interrupted by the sound of his phone buzzing on the nightstand. Wonwoo sighed, reluctantly letting go of you to grab it. His eyes scanned the screen, and you saw his expression shift slightly—his jaw tightening.

"What's wrong?" you asked softly, your ears drooping slightly at the sudden tension.

He hesitated for a moment before setting the phone back down. "Nothing," he said, though his tone betrayed him. "Just... work stuff."

You tilted your head, unconvinced, but you didn't push. Instead, you sat up, pulling the blanket around you. "Do you have to go?"

"No," he said quickly, sitting up to meet your eyes. "I'm staying right here."

His hand reached for yours, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. The look in his eyes was steady, reassuring. But you couldn't shake the feeling that whatever was on his phone wasn't just "work stuff."

Still, you smiled softly, letting yourself believe him for now. "Okay."

"Why don't we get some breakfast?" he suggested, his tone lighter now. "I'm sure you're starving."

You nodded, your stomach rumbling at the thought of food. As the two of you got up and started moving around the apartment, you couldn't help but wonder—what exactly was he hiding? And how long would this little bubble of safety last before reality came crashing in?

Wonwoo's lips brushed against the crown of your head as you curled up in his lap, his arms wrapped securely around you. The soft blanket he had draped over your shoulders kept you warm, but it was his steady heartbeat under your ear that gave you real comfort.

"You're awfully quiet now," he murmured, his hand absentmindedly stroking between your bunny ears, earning a soft hum from you. "Is something on your mind?"

You tilted your head slightly, meeting his gaze. His expression was gentle, almost serene, but his dark eyes held an intensity that made you feel bare yet safe all at once.

"It's just... I don't know how to say it," you admitted, chewing on your bottom lip.

"Try me," he coaxed, his fingers shifting to lightly pinch your ear, a smirk tugging at his lips when you squeaked.

You hesitated, feeling heat creep up your cheeks. "I... don't think I've ever felt this safe before. Like... you actually see me as me. Not just some... hybrid with—"

Wonwoo silenced you with a soft kiss, his lips lingering just long enough to melt away your worries. "You're not just anything, Y/N," he said quietly, his forehead pressing against yours. "You're you. That's what matters."

Your heart swelled at his words, and before you knew it, your arms were wrapped around his neck, pulling him into a tight hug. "Thank you, Wonwoo," you whispered.

"For what?"

"For being... this," you said, leaning back just enough to gesture at him, though you didn't really have the words to explain.

His lips quirked up in that understated smile of his, the one that made your stomach flip. "I guess you're welcome, then."

The moment felt too perfect to break, but your stomach had other plans, growling loudly enough to make you both pause.

Wonwoo chuckled, his chest rumbling against you. "Hungry?"

"...Maybe," you mumbled, your ears drooping slightly in embarrassment.

"Well, let's fix that." He shifted, preparing to stand up with you still in his arms.

"Wait! I can walk!"

He raised an eyebrow. "And miss the chance to carry my cute bunny to the kitchen? Not a chance."

You couldn't fight the grin that spread across your face as he carried you bridal style toward the kitchen, his teasing making your heart feel lighter than it had in years.

After a warm meal that left you feeling full and happy, Wonwoo guided you back to the couch. The evening air had turned cooler, and your soft pajamas were still in his room, far away from where you wanted to be—next to him.

"Here," he said, reaching into the basket of clean laundry he had yet to fold. He pulled out one of his shirts—a soft, oversized black one that smelled distinctly like him, that comforting mix of woodsy cologne and something warm, like coffee.

You blinked up at him, tilting your head. "That's... yours?"

"Yeah." He shrugged, holding it out to you. "You'll be more comfortable in this for now."

"But it'll smell like you."

"And that's a problem because...?" He gave you a lopsided grin, clearly enjoying the slight pout on your lips.

"It's not a problem," you muttered, cheeks warming as you tentatively took the shirt from his hands.

Wonwoo turned away to give you some privacy, though he couldn't help sneaking a quick glance over his shoulder as you slipped into the shirt. It draped over you like a dress, the hem brushing just above your knees, the sleeves far too long for your arms. You tugged at the collar nervously, your bunny ears twitching as the fabric enveloped you in his scent.

"Cute," he said simply, his voice soft but filled with affection.

You froze, your cheeks heating up. "Y-You think so?"

Wonwoo stepped closer, his hands gently landing on your shoulders before he tugged you into a hug. "Of course," he murmured, his chin resting lightly on the top of your head. "You smell sweet, like always. But now..." He took a subtle inhale, his arms tightening slightly around you. "Now you smell like me too. I like it."

His words sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn't help but snuggle closer, your head pressing into his chest. "I... like it too," you admitted shyly, your voice muffled against him.

He leaned back just enough to tip your chin up, his dark eyes meeting yours. "Good," he said softly, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. "You should get used to it."

Your heart fluttered at his words, and you couldn't stop the small smile that tugged at your lips. "You're so smooth sometimes, you know that?"

He chuckled, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "Only with you."

The warmth of his shirt enveloped you like a snug cocoon, and with the soft scent of him lingering on the fabric, you couldn't help but feel a little dazed. Wonwoo's shirt was oversized on you, the hem brushing against your thighs as you shifted your weight on the couch. The mix of his scent and the subtle sweetness you naturally carried made the air feel warm and comforting.

He pulled you close again, his large hands gently resting on your waist as he settled back into the cushions. You melted into him effortlessly, his solid chest a perfect pillow. Wonwoo's heartbeat was steady under your cheek, grounding you in the peaceful silence.

"You smell like me now," he murmured, his deep voice low and laced with affection. His lips ghosted against your temple, lingering there in a gentle kiss. "I like it."

You tilted your head up to meet his gaze, your cheeks flushed from his tender words. "That's unfair," you teased, voice soft as you traced a finger along the line of his jaw. "You keep saying things that make me weak."

A chuckle rumbled in his chest, and his lips quirked into that small, crooked smile that made your heart flutter. "Only because it's true. You look perfect like this." His arms wrapped around you tighter, pulling you into his lap effortlessly.

You let out a happy sigh, curling up against him, your legs draped over his as he rested his chin atop your head. "I don't think I've ever been this comfortable," you admitted, your voice muffled against his chest.

"Good," he replied simply, his hand finding yours and intertwining your fingers. The gesture felt as natural as breathing, his thumb idly stroking your knuckles as the two of you relaxed into each other's warmth.

Sleep was tugging at your eyelids now, the day's tension melting away with every gentle kiss he pressed to your forehead, your hair, and even your bunny ears. You nuzzled closer, letting out the smallest, most content hum, which made Wonwoo's heart skip a beat.

As your breaths evened out, he couldn't resist murmuring, "I'll keep you safe, always." He didn't know if you were awake enough to hear it, but it didn't matter. The words were true, and they hung in the quiet air like a promise.

His shirt wrapped around you, his scent lingering on your skin, and his strong arms holding you tight—it was a kind of peace you hadn't known existed.

And as the night stretched on, the two of you stayed that way—wrapped in each other, hearts beating in perfect rhythm.

a/n: let's all thank anon for the request, especially if you liked it (hope you did) mwa's

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physics-of-one-piece · 4 months ago

Text

Merlot & Primroses (Doflamingo x Reader)

Chapter 2

(read on AO3)

Summary: Your husband’s brother finds you. Life with him and his sham of a family is as cold as the snow your husband was found buried in. You're going to wilt slowly living with Doflamingo, you’re sure. No flower can survive in such snow.

Chapter Navigation: 1 , 2 (you're here), 3, 4

Tags: Doflamingo x Reader, Rosinante's Wife!Reader, Civilian!Reader, Female!Reader, Rosinante x Reader (mentioned through flashbacks), Canon-Typical Violence, Attempted Murder, Gun Violence, Threats, Blackmailing, Kidnapping, Manipulation, Attempted Gaslighting, Mentions of Murder, Body Control (Doflamingo's Devil Fruit), Forced Proximity, Mentions of Fratricide, Grief, Angst, Hurt, Post-Minion Island, North Blue Doflamingo, Red Suit Doflamingo, Touch-Starved Doflamingo, Doflamingo is His Own Warning, Protective Donquixote Doflamingo, Donquixote Brothers, Adult Themes, Oda Made Us Cry Over a Ship I Will Attempt To Make Us Cry Over a Couch

Word Count: 9.6k

A/N: Y'all were so supportive on Ch1 I was blown away like Doffy after Luffy hit him with Leo Bazooka, THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH ❤️❤️🫶🏻🫶🏻😭😭. Thank you all so much for the comments, I'm sorry I was late replying to some, but work and life and all that boring stuff. Thank you for all the reblogs and likes and the tags in your reblogs+comments in your reblogs, I loved them all 🥹💕 There is a dangerous lack of Red Suit Doffy GIFs, and I will single-handedly change that. I absolutely adore every single comment you guys left, thank you all so much for the support. Enjoy Red Suit Doffy kidnapping you 😉❤️ P.S. get your "punch Doflamingo in the dick cus you can reach there" here 🦩🍆💥🤛🏻

Taglist: @fanaticsnail @moonbaby26 @daydreamer-in-training @queenmimi2817 @dummyduck44 @pinejayy @tellynojelly @capycapy-bara @dilf-destroyer-04 @yataidiot @orioncipher @isabeauwolf @r-amenegg @skullfacedlady @wrennyx @yan-love-reader @caldrien @rujellyroll @bonzaibaby @emilyfeetumbrella @ghostiequill @pipsterz @graceland321 @panthorastormheart @thesmolestsage @thesaltycrisp @hurricanebrownie @heroinicyfingers @t-sarah @aganhim @smol-flower-kiddo @vaniiiavengeance @sagyunaro @froggiewrites (I think you might be interested 👉🏻👈🏻🥺) @saracrossing02 (if it's your vibe)

Also... DO NOT READ THIS CHAPTER IF YOU HAVEN'T WATCHED EPISODE 706 OF ONE PIECE. THERE ARE SPOILERS FOR EPISODE 706 IN THIS CHAPTER IE MENTIONS OF HOW ROSINANTE DIED.

Chapter 2

A month after moving into your house in North Blue for Rosinante’s mission, the only thing you two didn’t have was a couch. So, your first outing off the island you moved onto was a trip to Mall Island, an island full of shopping malls. It was only a three hour sail away, and with the marine ship transporting you and Rosinante, you and him found yourselves standing in front of a massive building of the most popular furniture store in North Blue an hour later.

“Rosinante… I don’t think this is the shop for us… are you sure you want to go shopping for our couch here?”

“Of course I do!” Rosinante said. “This is the best furniture shop in North Blue!”

‘It’s a good thing I pulled out the money from my paycheck slip as Corazón this morning from the bank.’ thought Rosinante. ‘I’d go broke if I shopped here with my paycheck as a commander.’

“This is one of the places where royalty shops, isn’t it?” you asked as the two of you entered the massive building. From inside, it looked like a palace, with marble staircases and pillars on the walkway supporting the other four floors. The people passing through the lobby and walking to the moving staircases were dressed in expensive clothes. Feeling incredibly self-conscious — normal people like you and Rosinante didn’t belong here — you leaned into his leg. You would have dressed into something nicer than a sweater, blouse and trousers, but Rosinante had done the same.

Then again, Rosinante was rather lax about dressing. His formal outfit for formal events was his commander outfit. You were lax about clothing too, most times. This time, though, you certainly felt underdressed.

“Yeah,” said Rosinante cheerily, picking up a guide flier to locate the living room section quicker. He noticed the way you leaned into him; he wrapped his long arm around your waist, his large hand settling on your hip, bringing you a sense of safety and comfort.

“Don’t worry,” He pulled out thick stacks of money he brought in his pockets, smiling at you. “I’ve got extra money if we need it!”

You frowned. It didn’t take a genius to know where he got the money from, from who he got it from, and for what he got it as payment.

“Your pirate older brother’s money,” you said.

You didn’t very much like Rosinante using his paycheck as Corazón for you. You wanted him to keep it for his undercover mission. Doflamingo would get suspicious if Rosinante suddenly asked him for more money and told him he’d spent it fast.

Rosinante started to sweat. “W-We can look at it as his present for our wedding!”

“Rosinante,” you said sternly. “Do you want to have sex on that couch or not? Because the mere thought of our couch being bought by Doflamingo’s blood money makes me as dry as the desert of Alabasta.”

Rosinante flushed red. “We’re in public!”

“At least we’ve got a new safe word,” you said.

“Doffy cannot be our safe word!” cried Rosinante.

“Flamingo, then.” you decided, fighting back from smiling; your husband's gawping, handsome, shocked, blushing face was adorable.

“Y/N!” your husband cried.

You giggled. “Speaking of Alabasta and deserts... Doesn’t Crocodile have this drying power with his Sand-Sand Fruit? Isn’t that a bit... You know... Unfunctional when...”

“He’s a Logia, he can deactivate his powers at will, including his drying power.”

“Devil Fruits are weird...” you mumbled. “Well, if I ever see your brother, I’ll just run.”

Rosinante looked at you with a severe, serious expression. “You can’t.”

You blinked. “Huh?”

“You can’t run away from Doffy.” said Rosinante; it was his Navy commander tone, no longer relaxed, but calm and steely. “It’s not about speed, or height, or how long your legs are. You can’t run away.”

“The strings can cut flesh, but they can’t reach that far...” you said.

“I thought so, too.” said Rosinante. “Then I saw Doffy decapitate a man fleeing from him because the guy got a lucky cut on my arm. The poor bastard was thirty meters away.”

“But they’re strings!” you argued. “Strings! Strings shouldn’t be that long!”

“The limit of Devil Fruits is your imagination. As long as you imagine it, possibility is, you can do it.” Rosinante frowned. “And Doffy’s got a big, wild, dark imagination.”

“Don’t worry. You two will never meet.” Rosinante gives you a smile; it looks rigid, and forced, uncertain in a way you’ve never seen before. “So don’t worry about it.”

You and Rosinante went to the first floor where the living room section was and headed to the section of four meter couches.

Rosinante fell to his knees when he saw the price of a sectional couch he liked, tested out and loved the feel of; it cost four million berries. His soul appeared to leave his body as he muttered, “F-Four... M-million?”

In the end, the furniture was too luxurious and too tacky for both your tastes. It was comfortable, yes, but it didn’t validate the massive price tag.

You could see Rosinante started thinking the same thing; it was all in his face, growing more sullen and depressed the more you two browsed through the big four meter long L-shaped and sectional couches. You wondered if the furniture reminded him too much of the furniture in Mariejois, or of his home in that island before people burned it down.

You were feeling quite discouraged yourself. You wanted Rosinante to be happy with the couch. After all, he would be the one mostly napping on the couch while you cooked lunch or dinner, and it needed to be of good quality, including the soft cushions for your husband’s bones.

“Maybe we can transport our couch from our apartment in Marineford to here?” you suggested as you two sat in the cafeteria of the marine ship transporting you back to your island.

“No! I want to buy one!” yelled Rosinante fiercely.“You’re going to be spending more time in that house than I will! I want you to be comfortable, and I want you to be happy with how the house looks!”

Your eyes widened, your chest warming up. “Rosi...”

“We’re gonna find the perfect couch for us, no matter what!” yelled Rosinante, clenching his fist in the air determinedly.

“Y-Yeah…” you said, not sure how to react at the surge of inspiration your husband showed over a couch except to stare at him, awed and in disbelief that such a wonderful man was your husband.

Oh. you think, staring at your husband’s older brother. I get it now, Rosi.

I really can’t run away.

Wulf lit his cigarette and took an inhale. He puffed out smoke through his lips. He and Rosinante stared at the white, sectional, four meter long couch in front of the porch wrapped in plastic wrap.

“So, of all people, why call me?” asked Wulf. Rosinante stood beside him, in his Corazón disguise, black coat, make-up, pink shirt and all, smoking alongside him.

“Well,” replied Rosinante, smoke coming from his cigarette, “it was either you, or actually calling my brother and explaining to him why I have a house and a wife and then if he doesn’t try to move in to bother us and cockblock me for the rest of my life and flirt with my wife every second, asking him to lift this with his strings because no way would Doffy bother with carrying furniture, saints forbid he does something as plebeian as that -”

“Okay, I get it!” yelled Wulf. “Your blame card has been successful, heart boy! Just let me finish smoking and then we’ll move it in!”

Rosinante smirked victoriously.

“I can’t believe you listened to my advice and took a white one...” said Wulf.

“Our kitchen’s blue, and right next to the living room, and white goes with blue.” said Rosinante.

“It’s quite a big one,” said Wulf, walking around the couch. “Is it modular?”

“Yeah. The sections can be separated, so it can be two couches. I think I’ll just put the ottoman as a footrest.”

“Make sure to put a blanket over it,” said Wulf. “If you get your muddy boots on it, your wife will kill you.”

Rosinante chuckled.

After they were done smoking, cigarettes discarded on the ashtray on the coffee table on the porch, Rosinante unlocked the doors of the house and he and Wulf decided to lift the left sectional first.

“Where’s the missus?” asked Wulf as he lifted the couch sectional under its base, hoping to seas Rosinante wouldn’t trip over a stair.

“Out in the market buying groceries for lunch,” said Rosinante, lifting the couch at a higher angle to get it up the wooden stairs. “I only came back thirty minutes ago, and the couch was delivered fifteen minutes ago.”

“Talk about nice timing,” said Wulf, chuckling. “It’ll be a nice surprise.”

Rosinante beamed brightly. “Yeah.”

“Where’d you find this one?” Wulf asked.

“In one of the furniture magazines Doffy gave me,” chirped Rosinante. “I went to the island where the store is and tried it out and it was the perfect one.”

“Furniture magazine?” asked Wulf, confused, blinking repeatedly. “Doflamingo gave you a furniture magazine?”

“Ah, um,” said Rosinante, blushing. “I stacked up on them to find the perfect couch, and Doffy caught me reading them. I told him I like reading furniture magazines. He’s started buying loads for me. I’ll have to read furniture magazines until I’m done with this entire undercover now, though...”

Wulf let out a “pf” before he burst out laughing.

Rosinante frowned at him. “It’s not funny, Wulf.”

“Oh, it is!” said Wulf, cackling, his chest shaking with his laughter. “It’s hilarious! Your evil older brother buying you all furniture magazines just so he can get his little brother his most fun stuff to read! Oh saints, I’ll die laughing!”

Rosinante, however, was growing more serious by the second.

“Don’t laugh at him.” said Rosinante, turning serious. “He might be evil, but he’s still my brother. Don’t laugh at him. Not over that. He’s buying the magazines because he thinks I like reading them. He has no reason to buy them. He buys them because he wants to make me happy, in his own way. Don’t laugh at him over that.”

Wulf sighed. “All right. Sorry. I didn’t mean it in a bad way.”

“I know,” said Rosinante. They made it into the living room. “It’s okay. Don’t worry about it. Let’s put it here. Three, two, one…”

The two marines put down the sectional. They both let out huffs, and sat down on the sectional, panting for a few moments, catching their breath.

“It really is good… ah, like a cloud…” Wulf smiled happily.

“Told ya,” said Rosinante, smiling happily as well. “It’s so comfy.”

The two marines sighed in bliss.

“Let’s get the other one,” said Wulf.

Rosinante groaned.

“Come on, big guy,” said Wulf, grabbing Rosinante by the arm, pulling him up as Rosinante groaned some more.

Five minutes later, you walked through the fence gate and closed it behind yourself, entering the large front garden, carrying bags of groceries.

When you climbed the porch, you heard Rosinante’s and Wulf’s voices.

“We did it! Screw you, Doflamingo, I’m Rosi’s number one guy to call for moving furniture! High five, Rosi!”

Your heart leapt in joy. Rosinante was back. You fumbled with the keys in your excitement — you had far too many keys on your keychain — and after unlocking the doors, you heard the two marines squawk.

“Shit! Your wife’s back! Act natural!”

“There’s a four meter long, white sectional couch of eight hundred thousand berries in my living room, how am I supposed to act natural?!” asked Rosinante.

“I don’t know, light yourself on fire?” Then, “Not on the couch, Rosi!”

“Saints, she’s gonna kill me.” said Rosinante. “Maybe I shouldn’t have bought this...”

“No, no, she’s gonna love it.” Wulf assured. “All this space for the fun times you two can have. She’ll love it, and so will you. This is the best use of money. For sex.”

“Is that why you said it should be four meters?!” shrieked Rosinante.

“Duh!” said Wulf. “Why do you think you took a white one?!”

“Gah!”

Your heart racing in your breast, you stepped into the living room, and felt your breath hitch.

Rosinante was sitting on the large white couch.

The black feathers of Rosinante’s coat flattered the white couch, like a black-and-white checkerboard. For a moment, you were too mesmerized by Rosinante’s beauty, sitting there on the couch in the setting sunlight casting a heavenly glow on his frame, that you forgot to speak.

Rosinante lit up like the sun the moment he saw you, his brown eyes glowing with joy.

“Heya!” Rosinante says cheerily, showing you a peace sign, giving you his big, goofy grin. “Surprise!”

You dropped the grocery bag and leapt on him, hugging him. Rosinante doesn’t fall, catching you in his arms with ease, slightly shocked and wide-eyed.

You hold him tight, so tight your knuckles turn white, holding onto the black feathers tight, basking in their softness in your hand.

“Welcome home, Rosi.”

Rosinante’s entire body softens. All the makeup he masks himself with melts away, and he puts away the mantle of Corazon within a moment, returning to you in full, all soft and gentle, his strong arms lifting, wrapping around you, and all he is now is your husband.

“I’m home,” he whispers lovingly, smiling into your shoulder. The two of you bask in each other, in your heartbeats, your bodies, your touch, in comfortable, loving silence.

“And with a new couch!” said Wulf, breaking the silence.

“And look!” said Wulf, hopping over the backrest and onto the couch beside Rosinante, grabbing your husband in a headlock.“It can take a full ton!”

Rosinante tapped furiously on Wulf’s forearm for his best friend to release him from the chokehold, which Wulf did.

“What, did you two suddenly go from hundred-ninety kilograms to five hundred kilograms each?” you teased, smiling at them.

The two men gasped.

“(Y/N)-chan, how could you call me — and sweet, sweet Rosi here — fat?”

Rosinante nodded furiously, tears in his soft brown eyes.

“You’re the one who said a ton,” you said, lifting your eyebrows at Wulf.

“It’s a manner of speech from South Blue! Darn!”

You could feel Rosinante’s gaze on you.

“Wulf,” you said, staring at Rosinante; he was staring at you longingly, but was too polite to tell Wulf to leave. “We’ll hold a barbeque tomorrow if you leave in the next ten seconds.”

It didn’t take Wulf a single second to realise the meaning.

“Oh, I’m out the door, Mrs. Donquixote!” sang Wulf cheerily, giving you and Rosinante a wolfish grin, getting up from the couch, heading straight to the doors. “You know me and barbeque and my best friend! Can’t betray either of them!”

Rosinante blushed. “Thanks, Wulf. I’m getting you beer with that barbeque.”

“Don’t mention it, Rosi.” said Wulf. “Bye! Have fun, lovebirds!”

You and Rosinante waved Wulf away. The moment the doors shut, you and Rosinante broke the distance with a desparate, long kiss, your lips meeting. His large hands settled on your back, hugging you tight, and your own arms settled around his neck before burying into his soft, fluffy hair.

When you parted after numerous kisses, needing air, you whispered into his collarbone, “I hate your brother.”

“Why?” asked Rosinante, laughing. You leaned away from his chest, and looked up at him; Rosinante froze. He could see it. He could see how much you missed him, how much you worried for him; it was written all over your face.

“Because he’s keeping you from me,” you whispered, full of ache and longing.

Rosinante went quiet. Carefully, he grabbed your hips and settled you atop of him; it was your turn to gasp, to blush, to clutch him tight.

“I’m right here, mi amor,” he said, deep, warm brown eyes staring into yours. His fingers caressed your cheek, took your hand, brought it to his mouth, and placed a firm kiss on it, leaving a lipstick shape on your knuckle. He looked at you again, offering you a small, soft smile. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m all yours for the next two days.”

You smiled, staring lovingly at him. You ran your fingers gently through his hair.

“Do you... like the couch?” Rosinante asked nervously.

“Yes, Rosinante,” you said softly, smiling at your husband. “I love the couch.”

Gently, Rosinante leaned down and kissed you again, uncaring for his lipstick; you found you rather loved getting lipstick marks from him, and ever since you’d told him such, he wasn’t as hesitant to kiss you with his make-up on.

You pulled your arms tighter around his head, pulling him down, the black feathers of his coat tickling your arms and face. You wanted him closer, until there was no space between you two. Gravity and weight did the rest, and you ended up laying on the softest couch you’d ever laid on. Rosinante fell atop you, bending his legs beside your thighs to support himself well enough to keep his weight from pressing into you, kissing you deeply. You sighed happily into his passionate lips, holding him tight, relieved he was back.

Rosinante’s lipstick tasted of roses.

It’s wrong, you think, staring wide-eyed at a man that doesn’t belong here, that shouldn’t be near you, that isn’t your husband. It’s all wrong.

Doflamingo’s slicked up, spiked up blond hair is the same colour as the bouquet of primroses sitting on his thigh. The blond spikes reminded you of a golden crown worn by a king.

His face was completely different from Rosinante’s; where Rosinante had round cheeks, Doflamingo had lean, sharp ones. Doflamingo also had a more narrow facial structure and chin than Rosinante. Some things were similar, so similar the resemblance deeply unsettled you. They both had the sharp, refined, thin nose, the strong jawline and beautiful lips. Their facial shape was different, giving entirely different impressions. Where Rosinante’s face was angelic and gentle — even boyish from some angles — in shape, fitting the picture of a kind, sweet prince charming, Doflamingo’s face was tough-looking, masculine and extremely aristocratic, painting the picture of a devilishly handsome mob boss or a cruel, cunning, ruthless king. Doflamingo’s forehead was bare, tanned, with furrow lines above his sunglasses.

Doflamingo’s entire appearance looked incredibly threatening and unfriendly. If you met him on the street, you would have kept away from him and shivered after he finally passed because of the air of danger surrounding him.

Draped over his broad shoulders, fluffy and humongous, covered with thousands of flamingo feathers, was his extravagant pink feather coat, spread along the white surface of your husband’s couch. You were used to the black feathers on the whiteness, not pink ones.

The change of colours startled you. Doflamingo was a malignant juxtaposition of colours that didn’t have a place in your home. Red and black instead of blue and white, pink feathers instead of black ones.

Doflamingo spoke.

“Don’t try to run, or call for help.”

Doflamingo’s voice was deep like thunder, commanding like a god’s, unsettling you deep to your core, your limbs freezing up with instinctual, animalistic fear.

Despite it, you bared your teeth at him, full of hatred and anger, because he shouldn’t be here, he shouldn’t be sitting on Rosi’s couch, it was supposed to be Rosi sitting there, not…

Him!

“Otherwise, I’ll turn this entire island bloody.”

You don’t move. You don’t move a single inch, but your lungs lift and fall rapidly in absolute fear as you stare at the tall demon in terror.

Are you breathing?

You don’t know.

You can’t think about breathing, too busy frozen by terror.

“By that look, I suppose you know who I am,” he said conversationally, his dark, deep voice resounding all across the safe haven of your house which Rosinante’s soft laugh used to fill with warmth and comfort.

Doflamingo turned his head fully toward you, flashing you a sharp, malicious smile full of teeth.

You felt cold under the massive, powerful weight of his gaze. And small. So very, incredibly small.

How? How did he find out about you so quickly, how did he find out where you live?

The spy.

The damned spy.

If you ever meet that spy, you’ll strangle them.

Doflamingo was the kind of terrifying that would send you running, but you knew you wouldn’t make it far.

“You’re Donquixote Doflamingo.” you said shakily. Maybe you’re already dead, and this is hell, with your husband’s older brother as your assigned tormentor. “Captain of the Donquixote Pirates.”

“Yes. And you’re Donquixote (Y/N).” He said this with the nastiest, most evil smile, speaking the name Donquixote arrogantly and smugly, like the royal title of godhood he must see it as, and most likely didn’t consider someone like you worthy of. “My dead brother’s wife, and my sister-in-law. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

Dead brother’s wife.

The words stung at your heart.

“Yes. Very nice.” you said with an impressive amount of politeness considering how much you loathed him. “I’d like you to leave now.”

Doflamingo burst out laughing; you jumped at the sound. He howled with laughter. He cackled, throwing his head back with a wheeze, bursting out into a full on raucous demonic laughter, loud and uproarious, the sound crescendoing into unnatural territory. The sound of his laugh made the hairs on your nape stand on end; it truly sounded like the laugh of an evil demon from the darkest, deepest pits of hell.

You didn’t know someone’s laughter could freeze you in terror, but here you were, proven wrong. You wished to never hear such a thing again. The sound of Doflamingo’s laughter would haunt you for the rest of your life.

“Mmm…fufufufufu! Fufufufufufufufufu!”

You put down your grocery bag — slowly, because you weren’t a fool. Even if he was holding his stomach and trying to stifle his laughter with his hand over his grinning, stretched out mouth, you knew he was keeping you in his sights.

“You’re hilarious!” he chortled, gasping. “I haven’t… hahahahaha… laughed this hard since… I forgot!”

You stayed silent, waiting for him to be done laughing.

“It breaks my heart, you know.” he said conversationally, moving his tanned, long, large fingers around the air, crooking them like a puppeteer. You froze on instinct, all your limbs going stiff; your body’s misguided attempt not to be caught in the strings that could come out any time, like the concealed claws of a tiger.

You didn’t know where to look; at his face or his hands. Doflamingo was so big that if he weren’t five meters away from you, sitting on your couch, your eyes wouldn’t be able to see all of him within your range of eyesight.

Doflamingo knew you were watching. He used his fingers like a lure he knew people would fall for all too well, and he’d managed to hypnotize you with their movements, too, forcing your attention onto them without you realising.

“I wasn’t invited to the wedding,” he said, smile completely gone, and somehow, his downturned lips were worse.

What?

“He didn’t...” you started.

Speak, dammit.

Unfortunately, it’s hard when your lungs are barely grabbing in enough air. The pressure of his presence suffocated you.

“...want you there.”

Doflamingo’s chuckle is as dark and deep as his voice.

“Fufufu, I bet.” Doflamingo said. “Must’ve been paranoid I’d steal you away. In the end, I found you, anyway.”

He smiled again. It wasn’t a nice smile, nothing like Rosinante’s smile. It was the sort of evil, triumphant smile the devil smiled knowing he’d won.

“What do you want, Doflamingo?” you asked coldly, tone icy and full of restrained anger you fought to bury.

“What do I want?” he asked, and laughed again. He lounged back on the couch, the picture of arrogance. His entire body language told you the truth Rosinante’s been telling you since you met him — his older brother was an arrogant, overconfident asshole who thought he deserved the world because of what he was born as.

“For starters, I’d like you to come live with me,” said Doflamingo.

What?

Nevermind, you thought. He’s actually insane. He’s mentally unstable.

“I refuse,” you said firmly.

Doflamingo laughed again, startling you once more.

“That’s not how it works, though.” said Doflamingo through his chuckles, placing a hand on his bared forehead, continuing to giggle; he sounded like he needed to be admitted into a psych ward. His entire body shook with his amusement; his chest, his shoulders, the feathers of his coat swaying. “That’s not how it works at all, Mrs. Donquixote.”

What do you do? He’s not going to kill you? He wants you to come live with him? That sounds worse, so much worse.

Do you run? There’s no way. You can’t run. You’re barely forcing yourself to stand as it is, full of terror from being in Doflamingo’s mere presence, in the same room as him. If you try to run, you won’t get far. He’ll stop you with his strings, or just catch up to you in no time with his long legs that are longer than your entire body. Who knows what he’ll do to you if you try to run.

You still have the revolver in your back pocket. You need to get it. It’s the only chance you have.

You cast your eyes around the room in an attempt to find something to help you. What you noticed on the side table near the seat where Doflamingo sat, however, grabbed all your attention.

An empty plate with only chocolate syrup.

You knew what the plate had held.

Somehow… somehow, that little thing was the last straw. First he kills your husband, then he breaks into your house, and then, like he hadn’t already done enough, eats the pancakes you made like he’s got any right to them.

“Where are my pancakes?” you asked. You hated how weak your voice sounded.

“Ah,” said Doflamingo. “I ate them.”

“You...” Your brain was scrambling to make sense of it. “Ate my pancakes?”

Those pancakes were supposed to be your last meal, and the pink-feathered fucker couldn’t even leave that alone?

Doflamingo shoots you a grin, big and remorseless. “They were delicious.”

For a moment, you were flabbergasted by him. First, he killed your husband, broke into your house, and as a cherry on top, he decided to make himself at home and eat what was supposed to be your last meal. Had he not done enough to you? Did he enjoy twisting the knife? You were already dead inside. Now Doflamingo was just kicking your corpse for fun.

If you didn’t shoot him, you were going to smash his skull in to wipe that big, cocksure smile off his face.

But how... How to draw the gun without Doflamingo stopping you?

“Move his eyes,” said a calm voice, and you froze. It was Rosinante. Rosinante’s voice. You felt gosebumps on your spine; it felt like he was standing right beside you; your eyes filled with tears. “He needs to move his entire head away from you. His entire field of sight needs to be away from you. Distract him with something he wants, something he’ll immediately go to investigate. A sound, an object he’s looking for, a threat.”

Something he wants...

“There’s more in the fridge,” you said calmly, with the resignation of someone who could do nothing to stop someone like Doflamingo from doing whatever he wanted.

You didn’t even offer it. However, it was like how pirates were with treasure. Apparently, Doflamingo considered your pancakes delicious enough to treat them as such — like treasure — because he turned his head completely away from you, over his back, pivoting his body to the left to be able to fully look where the light blue kitchen was.

With immense speed, you pulled out the revolver hidden beneath your shirt, aimed it at him, and pulled down the safety hammer.

The moment the safety lock clicked, Doflamingo turned his head to you.

“Woah, woah!” he called, laughing again. “You’re that angry about the pancakes?”

He’s laughing. You’re aiming a gun at him, and the bastard is laughing. He killed his little brother, his little brother, he killed your husband, and he’s laughing.

He really is insane.

“Rosi was right,” you growled, fury and anger spitting past your lips, a snarl on your lips. “You are crazy.”

“Fufufufu! You’re the one aiming a gun at me, woman!” he said between his bouts of manic laughter.

“You’re the one with a devil fruit that can control and cut people, and the one who killed his brother, pirate.” you hissed.

Doflamingo smiled, sharp and wide, yet despite the smile, you couldn’t tell what was going through his head at all.

What now, Rosi?

“Start stepping back. Get out of there. Keep your pistol pointed at him. Do NOT look away from him.”

You could do none of those things. You knew you should, but you couldn’t. If you did those things, if you ran away, you wouldn’t be able to look at Rosinante in heaven. It felt like it would be the greatest dishonor to him.

“How about you lower the gun?” asked Doflamingo.

The way he said that pissed you off. Like he was talking to a pet that decided to try to bite him when he went to pick it up.

“How about you burn in hell, you piece of shit?” you growled, baring your teeth like a wild, wounded animal at the predator circling you.

You didn’t know how to fight. You didn’t have a Devil Fruit. All you had was this gun in your hands, the grief welling in your eyes, stinging in the shape of tears, and your angrily beating, shattered heart in your chest.

“(Y/N), run! Run, run, run!”

Doflamingo gritted his teeth. “It’s not my fault he’s dead.”

You feel a vein on your forehead snap.

“Huh?” you growled, baring your teeth.

“It’s not my fault he’s dead,” he said firmly, angrily, as though he didn’t do it, as though he didn’t shoot him. As though he was innocent.

“Rosinante died because he was weak.” Doflamingo sneered in disgust. “Because he had that same dumb worldview like our father, believing he was human. He let his stupid emotions and misguided, worthless sense of justice interfere, and betrayed me.”

You saw red. Red like blood stains on clothes, leaking on white snow. Red like flames enveloping a city, eating away at every building and life they touch. Red like the lipstick Rosinante wore.

All the fear vanished from your blood.

“You. You bastard. Shut it.” Your voice was different. Cold. Enraged. Deadly. Full of hatred. Your eyes were full of icy fury, your face cold and expressionless. You were ready to kill him, and you wouldn’t feel a thing when you did. “Don’t talk about my husband.”

“Why are you angry?” asked Doflamingo. “I’m only telling you what happened.”

“You're not,” you said, your heart shaking in your ribcage. “That’s not what happened. You’re badmouthing him. I know what happened.”

“Do you?” he asked, frowning. “My brother betrayed me. He betrayed me. He stabbed me in the back, he nearly destroyed my entire life. What part of that isn’t getting through to your head?”

“Lower that gun,” he ordered, sneering, the command making you momentarily freeze. Your muscles nearly obeyed him before you got a grip on them. “I’ve had enough of my family pointing guns at me.”

Your hackles raised. Doflamingo was not your family.

Doflamingo stared you down with such a cold-hearted, apathetic expression you felt your stomach drop, as though trying to escape from that heartless gaze. You could see yourself in the crimson lenses of his sunglasses.

“You’re not going to shoot me,” Doflamingo said, frowning at you, frightening and intimidating all at once; he looked angry with you, offended by the perceived weakness he thought you held, which infuriated you further. “You’re just like your husband.”

Rage brewed inside you. You never knew such a storm was possible for a person to feel. You hated hearing his voice. You hated hearing him badmouth Rosinante.

To you, Rosinante was the very very strongest. To you, Rosinante was the most kindest, bravest, fiercest man in the entire world. Doflamingo didn’t hold a candle to Rosinante.

“He’s baiting you.” Rosinante sounded panicked; he sounded scared. “He wants you inside here. Don’t let him. Get out. Get out and run!”

You put your other trembling hand on the grip of the revolver, glaring at him, your grip steady around the gun, staring at the man who killed your husband.

“Do you want to stake your life on it?” you asked in a deadly calm, cold voice; it didn’t sound like your own. It sounded heartless.

“Before you shoot me…” said Doflamingo slowly. “Do you want to know how he died?”

Your breath hitched.

“Your husband died alone,” said Doflamingo calmly, the red-orange lenses of his sunglasses reflecting you. He was not smiling, his frown deeper and deeper, angrier and angrier. “He died cold and alone, buried in his own blood, lying in the snow.”

Your eyes blurred with tears holding the memories of Rosinante, your lips quivering from the lack of his lips’ warmth on yours, your teeth gritted in a vicious snarl, your knuckles turning white how tightly you clenched the grip of the gun.

Rosinante’s voice came back to you, the last words he said to you, and you remembered all of him, of his smiling face and warm, loving eyes as he said...

“I love you!”

Rosinante couldn’t press the trigger because he loved Doflamingo. In the end, no matter what Doflamingo did, to Rosinante, he was still his older brother.

That’s why Rosinante couldn’t press the trigger.

But you can.

You will.

It frightens you how easily you can pull the trigger with Doflamingo on the other side of the barrel.

You have nothing but pure hatred for Doflamingo. To you, Doflamingo is nothing but your husband’s murderer.

That’s why you didn’t hesitate, didn’t linger, or felt any guilt at all.

You pulled the trigger.

The bang of the gunshot filled your ears, but you didn’t care. You didn’t stop with one press of the trigger, ignoring the whiplash in your arm given by the gunshot. You pressed the trigger five more times, in quick succession, filling the house with five more deafening, explosive bangs rending through the air, aiming the barrel at Rosinante’s older brother.

You hear Doflamingo click his tongue. A glimpse of strings shimmering under the light catch your gaze, a sound of wires, Doflamingo moving his hand —

The bullets, which were the size of a peanut, clattered to the ground together with your gun, both in pieces.

Doflamingo lowered his hand. You had only seen him swing his fingers in a slashing motion, barely able to follow the swift movement of the red sleeve and glove with your eyes, but you were sure he cut the bullets into numerous tiny fragments.

Doflamingo’s cold look never wavered, his face never twitched to show a single sign of panic. There was no hesitation or fear in him before or after cutting the bullets into tiny shreds. He just sat there with his usual calm presence.

“Did Corazón teach you how to shoot?” A dark smile split across his face, more a sneer than a smile. “Too bad it won’t work on me.”

You stared at him, and he stared right back.

“Are you done now?” he asked, rough tone both deceptively curious and mocking in its amusement, the scythe-shaped grin pasted on his strong face.

“What do you want?” you asked through gritted teeth.

“I told you what I want.”

“And I told you,” you hissed, breathing hard. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“Are you hiding anything else from me?” Doflamingo asked you.

“I don’t have anything else,” you said, knowing you were lying.

“Is that what we’re going to do?” Doflamingo asked. His tone wasn’t mocking, but sharp and direct, unforgiving in a rough, terrible way, his smile gone, the sight of his frown turning your blood to ice; you feel like you’re going to throw up from fear. “You’re going to lie to me, just like your stupid husband did?”

You opened your mouth to reply, to tell him to go throw himself into the sea…

“Purupurupurupuru.”

You froze, your eyes widening.

Doflamingo’s frown fell into a deeper one. He stared at you in dead, terrible, lethal silence. You never knew someone could look so mad without saying a single word.

Damn it.

“Purupurupuru… purupururupurupuru…”

Damn it!

Wulf must be calling. He must have gotten a ship.

“Unbelievable,” said Doflamingo with a sigh, his merlot suit deflating with his chest, his voice full of disappointment as the snail continued to ring.

“Pull it out, then.” said Doflamingo, sounding resigned in his dissapointment.

You didn’t want to test your luck anymore. You pulled out the snail. Your breath hitched when a string latched onto it and it came flying into the space between Doflamingo’s fingers.

“Look at that,” said Doflamingo, holding the tiny white-blue snail, his tone oozing with patronizing superiority. He spoke to you with such thick condescension, it pissed you off more and more. “A transponder snail. A marine one at that.”

It looked like a chocolate bar between Doflamingo’s long fingers. The transponder snail was still ringing.

Another sound of wires — no, they sounded like the pulled taut strings moving across the surface — and you watched, helpless, wide-eyed, as the snail was cut to pieces.

Doflamingo let it go, discarding its slimy remains on the floor.

A small gasp left your lips, your eyes stinging with tears for the small snail that had done no harm. It was the snail Rosinante had given you before he went on his mission. The snail was a life, a living creature, and Doflamingo killed it. He could have shut it off and put it on the table, but he killed it.

All to teach you some sort of lesson about not lying to him.

You clenched your jaw, glaring at him with hatred which grew more fiercer by the second.

“You want to test me again?” he asked dangerously, his smile gone, veins throbbing on his forehead. “Maybe the next thing I cut to pieces is this house.”

Your heart stopped.

“Me telling you what I came here for, that I’d like you to come live with me...” said Doflamingo, staring at you. “That was me asking. That was me being chivalrous. Showing manners. Showing you respect, which you keep failing to show me.”

“You don’t deserve my respect,” you spat hatefully. “And I don’t want your false chivalry.”

Doflamingo’s brows furrowed.

“Fine,” he huffed. “I won’t ask this time. Do you know how it looks like when I don’t ask, darling?”

His voice was still so terribly condescending, but now it was darker, turning more malicious, more cold.

“Let’s see…” said Doflamingo coldly. “You can come with me quietly, or you can try to fight me.”

Fuck you.

“If you resist… I’ll kill every single person on this island.”

Obey or people will die.

“The choice is yours.”

The choice was not yours. All you could choose was whether he would hurt everyone or not. It was a choice, but it was a shit one, and you knew it.

The smile Doflamingo smiled was dark and giddy, almost delighted by the prospect of you saying no, of you giving him a reason to use his powers. Like he wanted to carnage another island, as casual as going for a walk and buying groceries.

This wasn’t what you signed up for. You signed up for death, not life.

But you couldn’t let people die. You had friends here. There were families here. And what would saying no do? Doflamingo would grab you and take you either way. It would be better to make sure he doesn't hurt anyone.

“I’ll come,” you forced through your trembling voice. “Don’t... Kill anyone.”

If you could protect the island from Doflamingo’s murderous whims and tendencies by obeying and not fighting, you’d do it.

“Fufufu… What a reasonable little sister-in-law I have. Cute, too.”

Your skin crawled uncomfortably.

Doflamingo took the primroses off his lap and offered them to you.

“For you. To cheer you up.”

You didn't want to accept them.

Just do it. Just take them.

You clenched your teeth. You just had to do it. You reached forward and took the bouquet from him.

“Thank you,” you said.

That caught Doflamingo off guard. His frown fell away, his browline and forehead relaxing, his downturned lips parting slightly.

A small smile quirked on Doflamingo’s lips; it unnervingly reminded you of Rosinante's small smiles, the kinds he smiled in secret with you, when you told him something that made him happy, or the first time he’d given you the same flowers and you were overjoyed to get them, as they were your favourite.

How did Doflamingo know these were your favourite? Did he pick them randomly? You didn’t know, and you decided you didn’t want to know.

“Can I bring my —” His deep voice cuts you off, “No.”

“Why?”

“Your clothes aren’t good enough,” Doflamingo said.

You were too tired to try to make sense of that.

“No, that’s... why don’t you kill me?”

“You have nothing to do with the marines, or my brother’s failed mission,” said Doflamingo. “I checked.”

“I work for the Navy,” you said.

Doflamingo waved it off. “Civilian servants work for everyone, that doesn’t make them loyal to the institution they happen to be employed in.”

You frowned.

“Do you want me to kill you?” asked Doflamingo.

“Honestly?” you ask, feeling like there are a thousand worlds of weight on your shoulders, the emptiness in your chest spreading more and more. “Yes.”

The demon in red chuckled. “I see. I’m not going to kill you. And nobody else is, either.”

“Are you sure?” you asked.

“Fufufu... I’m sure, little one.”

Doflamingo stood up from the couch, standing at his full height, and you felt your gut drop.

Doflamingo was huge, standing above three meters of height. You were used to huge men — Rosinante was huge himself after all, and both brothers had the exact same lanky build — but the way Doflamingo held himself upright, with class and confidence, gave him an air of intimidation you never experienced with your husband, whose legs were taller than your entire body. The same went for your brother-in-law; you were quite below his waistline. And he was taller than Rosinante; you noticed it just by looking at him. With Doflamingo, you were left staring eye-to-eye with vivid merlot suit pants, above his knees. As you did with Rosinante when he stood close to you, you tilted your head upward to look at his brother. Fear struck you.

You stepped back from him.

(You never stepped back from Rosinante in all the years you’ve known him.)

Idiot. Don’t step away.

It was too late for that now. The damage was done.

The pink feathers of his coat brushed the couch as he approached you. His face looked heartless and cold, looking down at you with a condescending arrogance, like you were a pebble that got in his way.

“Well? Won’t you greet your brother-in-law properly?”

What?

“Tch,” he said, annoyed. “You’re a translator, but you don’t know the Dressrosan greeting custom?”

“I know the custom,” you said, glaring up at him. The Dressrosan greeting custom for women when greeting men and men greeting women in family interactions were cheek kisses, one on the right cheek and one on the left cheek. “I just don’t want to do it with you.”

Doflamingo chuckled, putting his gloves back on, slipping his fingers into them. “Too bad.”

He bent down to be at your height, and his hand grasped your face. His fingers could easily wrap around your head and crush it; his palm was bigger than your face.

His face got close to yours.

You stopped breathing. You froze. You could see your own face reflected in the sunglasses now. Doflamingo’s face got closer, and you clenched your eyes shut, your entire body tensing up.

Doflamingo kissed your right cheek, then your left cheek; his lips were soft and warm. The smell of his cologne enveloped you; a fresh, clean scent of coconuts and salt.

“Now you,” he said, tapping his right cheek, grinning at you devilishly, the painting of arrogance. “Right here. And then the other one.”

He even turned his head to the side, offering you his right cheek to make it easier for you.

Oh, you never wanted to slap a man as much as you wanted to slap Doflamingo in that moment.

You inhaled, gathering your guts, and kissed him on his right cheek, then on his left. It was neither quick or slow, but the usual tempo of the greeting, the same speed he’d done it with — though his had been slower, most likely to freak you out.

His cheeks were warm, his skin smooth and soft under your lips, and you could feel the way his cheeks stretched with his smile.

You leaned back, fighting back from wiping your lips on your arm.

“Give me a hug.”

What the hell?!

Before you could react in any way, Doflamingo hugged you under the arms, crossed his long arms over each other on your back, his large hands covering half of your upper back, and hugged you tight, cradling you to him until your face was smushed against his red tie. The fabric of his black dress shirt was soft and smooth as your breasts pressed to his broad, strong chest. He settled his head on your left shoulder, and that was that.

It was a nightmare. You were absolutely horrified. You didn’t move; you couldn’t. You were too numbed by shock.

You felt his right pinky finger lift from your back, and before you knew it, your frozen arms started lifting, going under Doflamingo’s arms.

My arms...

No. you thought, realising what was happening. You hadn’t even felt the string, how...

No no no no —

The next instinct that came to you was to break free. You could feel your arms, and you tried to tug them, move them, but it wasn’t working. They were moving on their own. It made no sense. Your brain was telling your arms to move away, you even attempted to jerk the muscles but it was like your bones themselves were under the control of Doflamingo's string.

You couldn’t control your arms. You couldn’t control your arms!

They slid around Doflamingo’s back, gliding across his suit before wrapping completely around him — you could feel how strong he was, could feel the thick muscles on his back — and squeezing him to you. You felt the feathers on the inside of his coat brush against your palm and fingers. Your fingers, which Doflamingo controlled to clench around the fabric of his suit, holding him tight.

Doflamingo hummed; it sounded like the sound a person made when they were having a nice dream.

You were on the verge of a panic attack. He was close, intimately close, far too close, so close you could feel his chest rise and fall as he breathed, so close you felt the thump of his heartbeat against your breast. You were small and tiny against him; he completely enveloped you.

Breathe. Breathe. Calm down. It’ll only get worse if you panic. Breathe. Just breathe.

You tried to move other parts of your body. You blinked, you breathed through your nose, you cast your eyes around the room, you parted and closed your lips. There were no weird thoughts going on in your head, and your heartbeat seemed... as fine as a heartbeat could be when the most dangerous pirate in North Blue was hugging you.

Doflamingo couldn’t control your facial expressions, or anything on your face. He couldn’t control your eyes. He couldn’t control your heart, your mind, or your soul.

All he could control was your body. But that was already terrible enough.

Doflamingo sighed through his nose, the flutter of his breath caressing against your neck, tickling your skin. “See? This is what you do when you see your brother-in-law.”

“A nice -”

This was not nice. It did not feel nice. It felt like a cage more than an embrace. Doflamingo was squeezing you to him like you were his new favourite, human-sized teddy bear.

“— warm —”

This was not warm! You felt cold, like you were surrounded by a thick, impenetrable wall of ice which would make you bleed if you tried to move out of the embrace. You were shaking so much you forgot to breathe.

“— hug.”

Help! you prayed to whatever god existed, begging for salvation, tears stinging at your eyes, your heart thudding fearfully in your chest. All the anger you managed to gather was gone, replaced by the cold, massive sense of fear.

Doflamingo was going to crush your bones, your organs, your muscles. You didn’t think it was possible to squeeze someone to death, but you were starting to believe a man of his size could do it without trouble.

The Demon of North Blue leaned to your ear. His hand slid up your body, cradling the back of your head; your head was like a small ball in his grasp.

“I’m going to pick you up,” his voice was deep and warm against your ear; you fought back from whimpering at the closeness of his mouth to your skin. “And you’re going to be a good little sister-in-law and stay quiet. We’re going to head out, and you won’t squirm. You won’t make a single sound. And if you do that, I won’t touch this house, or this island, or its people.”

“Yes, sir.” you said before you realised what words you were saying, the instinct from work kicking in all because of Doflamingo’s commanding, authoritative tone. The moment you realised what you said, you were horrified. Your face burned with shame.

It wasn’t your fault. Doflamingo’s was the sort of voice and tone people naturally obeyed to.

Doflamingo huffed disapprovingly. “Not ‘sir’. Doffy.”

Your stomach sunk. No. No, you couldn’t call him that. That was how Rosinante called him, because they were brothers. You couldn’t just call him that.

Rosinante had asked you to call him Rosi a month after you started dating.

“It’s how…” Rosinante’s thumb drew more circles on your palm; he was stumbling over his words slightly, a pink blush rising to his cheeks. “The people dear to me call me… so… if you want to… you can call me Rosi.”

At his request, you’d called him Rosi — it sounded so cute to you, and you loved how it felt to say it — and after that, he blushed, fell to the ground, and started rolling on the grass of Marineford Park while giggling and kicking his long feet.

“Aaaa! I can’t! It’s so cute!” he opened his palms, revealing his reddened, smiling face; he was smiling from ear to ear, gazing at you with those big brown eyes of his. “Call me Rosi again, please!”

You giggled. Rosinante was so wonderful; he looked so happy, his smile was so infectious you started smiling too.

“Rosi,” you whispered lovingly.

Rosinante let out a squeaky sound in his throat. He went back to rolling on the ground to try to cool off his heated body.

Then, suddenly, Rosinante stopped moving. When you turned to check on him, he was bleeding out of his nose. A lot. So much it was getting on his collar.

“Help!” you called, and as the park was filled with people who worked in the Navy, medics and marines in civilian clothing came running to help you. “My boyfriend’s gonna die!”

You could move your hands and arms normally again. You didn't even feel the strings let you go.

Dressing like a gentleman does not mean being one. Doflamingo, in no polite terms, manhandled you like a brute. He picked you up by wrapping his immense hand around your wrist, his long fingers completely encircling your arm, the width of his hand so large it covered your forearm. Without giving you a warning, he lifted you off the ground - you yelped when the solid ground vanished beneath your feet.

Doflamingo settled his gloved hand beneath your curled knees, his arm wrapped around your body like a wing, the back of your head resting in the crook of his elbow. You felt like a puppy being carried like this.

Doflamingo exited through the doors, climbed down the staircase of the porch, and then looked up at the sky. Now that he was in the sunlight, his hair really was the exact same colour as the bouquet of yellow primroses you held.

Doflamingo didn’t warn you before he launched into the sky, his left arm firmly keeping you in place beneath his chest.

You let out a shriek as you ascended up into the sky, the ground getting further and further away until it looked like a terrain on a map in books. Your left arm flailed for purchase out of panic, on instinct, grabbing onto the closest support; his red suit jacket.

Before you knew it, before you could process it, you were high up in the sky, the sea passing by in a blue blur beneath you, the wind gathered by Doflamingo’s flying movements pushing into your face and waving your hair around.

Understandably, you screeched again.

Doflamingo laughed.

“You screech like a canary, fufufu!” he said, his chest shaking with his laughter.

Your entire body clenched up and froze, your eyes closing shut. You thought you weren’t afraid of heights. You were definitely afraid of flying, it seemed, because that was height and moving quickly over a large height.

You wondered how quickly the marines would figure out you got kidnapped.

It wasn’t anything new. Pirates always targeted a marine’s family and spouses, especially if they were civilians. A team would be sent out to find you. Unfortunately, you didn’t leave any signs of struggle, but the next rule of action would be to call your personal transponder snail, which you were to keep at your side at all times. The transponder snail Doflamingo sliced into bits. At least that would alert the marines something happened to you.

Wulf would know. Your plan worked. Wulf had free reign to find Law while Doflamingo had wasted his time travelling to get you.

You let out the breath you’d been holding.

The chuckle reached your ears, his chest rumbling with the sound. “Look who’s breathing.”

You flick your eyes open.

“You could’ve… warned me,” you said, wondering whether he heard you over the wind his movements created. Your mouth felt dry.

“Now where would the fun in that be, little canary?” he asked with a sly smile, the wind ruffling at his blond slicked up hair, pushing at the pink feathers of his coat; they looked like the flapping wings of a flamingo.

Something stirs in the void of your chest. It feels like anger. Or something close to it.

“The fun in that would be that I wouldn’t hold my breath for an hour, cuñado.” you say in full Dressrosan.

Doflamingo makes a slight, barely audible sound of surprise. He tilts his chin down at you, surprise on his face as you frown up at him. Then, he grins, and you think you may have made a grave mistake.

“My cute little sister-in-law knows Dressrosan.”

“Translator, remember?” you said.

Doflamingo was too busy grinning down at you like you gifted him the best birthday present he could ask for, offering a simple hum instead. You wondered how his cheeks didn’t ache from smiling so wide.

“Fufufu! Guess we have our secret language, then.” he says, switching effortlessly back to Common, just like you did seconds prior.

Getting kidnapped by a pirate wearing a full formal red suit like a wealthy businessman is one thing. Being carried in the aforementioned pirate’s arm as he flies through the sky over the sea is completely another. That pirate being your brother-in-law who your husband died to protect you and Law from was just the cherry on top.

“While we’re here, I’ll tell you about the family,” said Doflamingo. “You need to know about them.”

Family? What a joke. Doflamingo killed his real family.

“I know you have three top executives, Trebol, Diamante, and Pica. I know you have officers, and I know you have apprentices. There’s the underlings, too, but they’re not part of the family.”

“Corazón’s been running his mouth, huh?” asked Doflamingo. You felt your face grow pale. Doflamingo chuckled. “Well, that’s fine. It’s nice to know he actually talked about me in some way to you.”

“You might know about them, but you don’t know them. You should make your own judgement, not depend on my little brother’s subjective view.”

Doflamingo flashed you another of his wide smiles. You had to admit, with it on, he lost that rough, ruthless look. He looked handsome in a devilish, charming way, like a ruffian.

Instead of the smile soothing you or making you drop your guard, it made you feel deeply uneasy; there was something wrong about his smile. It didn’t feel like a smile. More like an evil grin.

You glared at him. Why on earth would you want to know about criminals who kill people, plunder and destroy cities without any sense of remorse or thought to how many lives they ruin?

“Let’s see,” said Doflamingo thoughtfully. “I’ll start with Lao G. He’s the oldest among us. He likes to make puns with words containing the letter g, and is a martial arts master…”

“Please drop me,” you begged hoarsely.

Doflamingo guffawed, the wind pushing at his blond hair, his raucous laughter carrying across the sky.

“Then there’s Giolla. You’ll love Giolla. Everyone loves Giolla. She loves art, and she’s great at making clothes.”

You braced yourself for a long, tiring flight of Doflamingo talking about his crew.

Rosinante… you thought, fighting not to cry. You didn’t say your brother loves to talk!

***

A/N: Just fyi, Doflamingo was being condescending because man was jealous, seething with jealousy, and you know, bcs he's an asshole and likes to play with his prey. This is the only time he will speak like this to Reader. North Blue Doffy is quite calm in speech but also commanding - you know he means business. It's just how he talks, which makes it harder for anyone to tell how he actually feels which is the fun part about North Blue Doffy. He can look at you like he's bored by you but is actually deep in thought planning your wedding. The moment Reader walked in, Doflamingo's heart skipped a beat. Love at first sight. He is also quite angry with Rosinante for not fucking telling him he has a wife, and not fucking asking him to be his best man - Rosinante might as well have shot him instead, it would have hurt Doflamingo less! In short, this is the only time Doffy will speak THIS patronizingly to Reader. I mean, he'll taunt, he'll act like the "man of the house" but it won't be so rough considering how this first time got. Guy's going through his emotions in his own way. Current emotion - seething with jealousy cus goddamn Corazón is a lucky bastard and how could he leave such a sweet thing like you while also absolutely adoring Reader cus the woman actually took the shot, and not just one but ALL THE SHOTS. That did it for him. Doflamingo adores you now. Good luck.

Some fun Japanese words for my fellow Sub fans:

義兄 (gikei) - brother-in-law (especially older brother of your spouse) -> word Doflamingo uses for himself when referring to himself to Reader, if he says "your brother-in-law" it is "omae no gikei"

otouto no tsuma - "(younger) brother’s wife"

義妹 (gimai) - younger sister-in-law, a more archaic formal word in Japanese, how Doflamingo refers to Reader when talking to her/about her, "my sister-in-law" would be "ore no gimai"

Japanese section, done! 👍🏻

#doflamingo x reader #doflamingo x you #doflamingo x y/n #x reader #one piece x reader #donquixote doflamingo #doflamingo #doflamingo one piece #op doflamingo #one piece #merlot & primroses #one piece fanfic #fan fiction #doffy x reader #doffy x you

326 notes · View notes

theprioryorange · 8 months ago

Text

blood and glitter ➛ a sienna shaw x fem!reader twoshot (part one)

pairing(s): sienna shaw x fem!reader

summary: sienna shaw is an enigma with wings and a sword, destined. oh, she’s also your friend who you may or may not be a little in love with…

tags ~> fem!reader, fluff, smut, romance, friends to lovers, explicit sexual content, explicit language, no mentions of art the clown/any deaths, not really canon tbh, semi-public sex, cunnilingus, fingering, scissoring, praise kink, d/s undertones, gay panic, awkward romance

warnings!: nsfw, pretty graphic smut, explicit language

word count: 11.3k+

a/n: this is my first ever time posting any writing of mine on here so i hope you all enjoy, i’m also going to be posting this to ao3 if you guys ever read stuff on there :) i’m currently experiencing terrifier 3 brain rot especially because of sienna so i need to write this to get it out of my system cus DAMN.

i've tried to make the reader's character not super specfiic as to be as inclusive as possible - the only things described physically is that the reader has female anatomy

The steps that led up towards Sienna’s bedroom looked a little menacing as you stood at their bottom. It felt like you were about to enter a whole other private world you previously had never had access to. The situation was strange, not strange in nature, but because of the fact that although you and the other girl had been friends for months, you still had yet to step foot inside her bedroom.

You had been to her house before, especially when Allie and Brooke wanted to hang out too but had never been in her bedroom. The upstairs of her house was uncharted territory.

But it was normal right? It was completely normal, you were just a friend visiting another friend’s house, about to enter their room so the two of you could get ready for a Halloween party. Every teen movie had this exact moment of calm where the characters could have dialogue and bond a little before moving onto the last big final act.

Sienna wasn’t just your friend though, to you she was something more. You didn’t want to just be her friend.

You had known she was special ever since she had waved you over one near summer afternoon to her lunch table and had complimented you on the iron-on patches that were littered across your jacket. The two young women sitting with her had looked a little confused when she started rambling on about Daft Punk and French Police (the band, not the law enforcement), but you had understood.

Like a puzzle, you two had fit perfectly together, two pieces clicking into place.

At first the fluttery feeling that bombarded your stomach at the thought of her was mistaken as relief. Platonic affection, and slightly pathetic gratitude that finally you didn’t have to sit alone at lunch. That you would now have some people you actually knew.

But once the four of you had begun to hang out, even though you and Allie got close fast, and Brooke at least tolerated your presence, your ever-growing bond with Sienna was different.

That bond, the thing you had labelled as different, should’ve made it easy for you to climb the stairs and waltz into the bedroom like it was yours. Instead, it had your feet glued to the floor. Barbara, Sienna’s mother and the one who had let you in, finally noticed your hesitation.

The woman didn’t seem to find it strange, simply chuckling and gesturing for you to go up. “She is expecting you honey, don’t worry.”

Giving her a small smile to try and seem relaxed only aided in making you look more nauseous. And to save yourself further embarrassment in the company of your new friend’s mom, you went upstairs. A few of the room doors were opened, but instantly looking within the second one you knew it was Sienna’s.

The room faintly glowed with dim lamp light, and the walls were covered in posters and pieces of art that were sure to have been done by the brunette herself. Every time you had the pleasure of being shown something she had created it always managed to take your breath away. You yourself weren’t exactly terrible when it came to a pencil and pad, but your talent laid more in academics than anything truly creative.

Sienna had actually offered to teach you how to draw one evening after you had caught a glimpse of her notepad; design sketches for costumes and makeup looks covering the pages. The temptation of spending more time with her outside of classes and lunch break had won you over. So far, with her help, you now knew how to draw something reminiscent of a detailed cat. Nothing Picasso-like, but it was a start.

One of the things on her wall that caught your eye was a neon white LED light in the shape of a skull. It showcased there was something a little morbid about the beauty of Sienna’s aesthetic too. Both of you had bonded over your love for all things morbid and you regularly had horror movie nights – sometimes with Allie and Brooke. Most of the time it was just the two of you though, the way you preferred it.

“Hey” the young woman had noticed you standing in the doorway and got off the bed to greet you.

Holy. Shit.

She had messaged you pictures of the costume she had created throughout the months, showing you the tiresome but fulfilling process of how it came to be. But none of them had been of her actually wearing it. You subtly tried to grab onto the doorframe, so you didn’t fall over flat on your face.

The Valkyrie armour your friend had adorned was a shiny bronze, and the intricate details of everything needed a few looks to really sink in. It wasn’t only the outfit itself that was making your heart palpitate; half of her hair was down, and the other half was sorted neatly into pretty braids.

The realisation she had actually made all this herself added another extra reason to your speechlessness – the main fact being though that she looked like something out of a fantasy nerd’s wet dream. But in a good way, definitely in a good way.

“Wow…” was all you could say, making her laugh and spin around so you could see the back of her costume. The two majestic wings sprouting out of her back seemed ironic then as you were almost sure she was an angel.

“What’d you think?” Sienna asked, turning back around so she could gauge your reaction. Not that there was much to analyse there though, you were still silent – but thankfully had managed to close your mouth. Running a hand through your hair you tried to find the words to express how ethereal she looked.

“It’s great, really great.” Way to go, loser.

Her face dropped just a little, did she think you were being insincere because your response was so short? Quite the opposite. You quickly scrambled to try and rectify your statement.

“No, like I really mean it. I-I mean the shoulder piece, the wings, it’s so detailed and pretty. And your makeup, I mean wow you look so…sparkly!” Although what you had just said embarrassed you even further, Sienna’s disappointed expression had been replaced with fondness and amusement.

“Yeah?” the cosplayer murmured, turning back to the mirror, and admiring herself for another moment. The truth was, she was extremely proud of how it had turned out, and your approval had meant a lot to her especially considering her mother’s likely disapproval when she saw what she’d be going out in. The weight of your opinion to Sienna was more than what was standard or acceptable for the average friend, even if she couldn't admit that.

You nodded. “Yeah.”

“I can’t wait to see your costume” she smiled, looking down at the backpack you had put down on the floor. The reality was setting in that you’d have to show her your costume.

Seriously, compared to Sienna’s costume, everyone else’s would be very much underwhelming – it was mean of her to assume everyone just was as talented as she was. The chic vampire look you were about to try to achieve would definitely not live up to standard, but you couldn’t spend the entire evening in her bedroom doorway.

“Can I get changed in your bathroom?”

Sienna’s head tilted a little in confusion at that, but realised you weren’t comfortable with getting undressed in front of her, so she smiled and said: “Sure, it’s the first door when you turn right, you’ll easily find it.”

Running a hand down your crisp shirt to smooth it out, you glanced at yourself in the mirror - so far you just looked a bit like a fancy Victorian aristocrat. It was agreed that the girl in the other room would help you do the special effects (and general) makeup for your costume, and you hoped that it would help elevate it to be a little more Halloweenesque.

No doubt your other two friends were doing the exact same thing right now, Allie putting a lot more effort into her costume than Brooke though.

“You ready for your makeover, Dracula?!” Sienna shouted from the other room, making you almost drop the comb you had brought with you into the sink (slicking back your hair was a harder affair than first thought).

You cleared your throat before replying. “Umm yeah hang on!” Grabbing what she’d need to transform you into a citizen of Transylvania, you walked back into the bedroom.

Standing in front of the bed, you gave her an awkward half sort of twirl. It made your cape swish around at least.

Sienna bit her lip as she tried not to laugh. “Wow, umm, it’s actually quite cool. I think the makeup will give it that extra oomph though, can’t have a vampire without fangs.” Both of you looked towards the package that contained the fake fangs. Also splayed out on the bed was a collection of makeup: eyeshadow palettes, mascaras, lip gloss, concealer – all Sienna’s, and some fake blood, glittery fake blood. You supposed that was where the chic part of your costume came in.

The armoured girl looked at you for a moment for patting a space on the bed, silently asking you to sit down so she could get started. You complied a little too quickly, feeling almost lightheaded by being in her presence and by being so close.

“Fangs or makeup first?”

You pointed to the fake, glue-on fangs a little apprehensively, hoping the glue wouldn’t fuck up your teeth.

Sienna worked quickly and efficiently, like how she did most things – you knew this because you spent admittedly quite a lot of time looking at her when she was in the middle of doing something. Brooke sometimes teased you for it, but you were pretty confident you had the others convinced your admiration for the artist was purely platonic.

“Open your mouth” the brunette instructed, you shifted on the bed a little and did as you were told. Her fingers tingled as she touched your face, tilting your head up so she could press on one of the fake fangs to your tooth, holding it until the glue stuck.

Whilst it wasn’t exactly what you had hoped for when you sometimes wished for her fingers in your mouth, it felt adrenaline-inducing all the same. You couldn’t take your eyes away from her face, even though you knew it was rude to stare, and even though you were almost certain she was aware of your staring. Sienna’s outfit and makeup was breathtaking, a homage to just how talented she was – how beautiful she was too.

The idea of her as some sort of mystic Valkyrie warrior fit, it fit perfectly and made you want to faint every time you looked at her.

“Okay, second and last one, just stay still for a moment.” The brunette applied a tiny dab of prosthetics glue to the end of the other vampire tooth before gesturing for you to open your mouth again. You did so and glanced away as she held the fake fang in place, trying not to acknowledge how flush your face was getting.

After they had been applied, and your teeth really did resemble ones of a bloodsucking creature of the night, Sienna moved on to doing your makeup.

The close proximity she had to your face was beginning to make you feel a little sweaty. The first step she took for your transformation was making you look a little more pale than usual, sickly. Not wanting to make it too obvious or campy by using face paint she instead used foundation, concealer and powder a few shades lighter than your natural skin colour.

Next came the eye makeup, Sienna dabbed very small amounts of what seemed to be eye shadow under your eyes to give the appearance of dark circles. Not that she needed much help with that, you were a bit of an insomniac.

The eyeshadow she used around your eyes was black and glittery, drawing attention to your irises. It felt weird trying not to look at the other girl when she was staring so intensely into (or rather, around) your eyes. The same thing happened when she was doing your lip gloss to quote unquote ‘draw attention to your mouth’ and subsequently, your fangs – you thought she might have been staring a little too hard.

And finally, the fake blood. Sienna had dipped the end of a very fine makeup brush in the fake crimson, tickling you slightly as she dabbed your lower lip with it. For a little extra effect, she let some run down your chin, staring a little intensely as some of it ran down your neck a little as your head was tilted back.

Trying not to take the moment as more than it was, and trying to calm your racing heart, you got off the bed to admire your friend’s handiwork in the mirror.

“Holy shit” you laughed, looking at your face from different angles. You could pass as Dracula himself if it wasn’t for the glitter in the fake blood Sienna had running down your chin. Unless he was a very campy Dracula.

“Sparkly Dracula” she commented, looking a little distracted as she assumably admired your costume. You turned around back to her and shot her a genuine smile.

“I love it, thank you.”

The girl shrugged a little and tried to brush the compliment off, but you could tell she was secretly happy to be praised. Sienna always acted humble and dismissive whenever someone complimented her artistry, but you could tell it made her feel good. She, in your opinion, should have been used to compliments by then as everything she touched turned to metaphorical gold, Halloween costumes were no different.

“Right come on” she followed you in getting off the bed and grabbing her phone as the two of you were already running late. “If we’re not there soon we’ll miss all the fun.” A part of you wanted to ask what was fun about a bunch of gross sweaty teenagers getting drunk and rubbing up on each other on a dance floor.

You’d much rather just spend the evening in her bedroom watching cheesy 80’s slasher movies and eating popcorn. But you could tell Sienna was looking forward to it, seeing it as an opportunity to blow off some steam, and held your tongue. The things you did for love.

The floor under your feet vibrated with music as the two of you tried to weave your way through the crowd to where Allie and Brooke were. You, thankfully, saw no sign of Brooke’s boyfriend (small mercies). Finally reaching the two of them, you all got a chance to admire each other’s outfits.

Neither of their costumes were as well-crafted (or as hot) as Sienna’s but both looked cute, passable for Halloween. Allie thought the glitter in your fake blood added a nice touch.

“What are you? A gay Dracula?” Brooke snorted, taking another swig of whatever was in her cup. Without knowing any better, and going by her facial expression, it looked like she was drinking straight up gasoline. At her best friend’s remark Sienna tried not to roll her eyes.

“Leave them alone, I think they look great.”

Brooke gave her a look.

“What?”

The blonde smirked, simply shaking her head as she looked around. “Nothing.” The slightly awkward moment was broken when the song changed to a favourite and Allie pulled all of you to the middle of the dance floor. A thing you had yet to mention to them was that you didn’t dance, not well at least. The idea of embarrassing yourself in front of Sienna made you want to dig a hole in the ground to crawl into.

“Come on” Sienna goaded you. Suddenly it seemed like the entire room faded away as she grabbed you by the hips and made you dance with her. Allie and Brooke and everyone else suddenly didn’t exist. The strobe lights on the ceiling made the glitter paint on Sienna’s face sparkle, her eyes equally so.

It felt like looking into a galaxy. Your heart was about to jump into your throat.

Perhaps she thought you looked silly almost frozen in the middle of the dancefloor as she started to laugh, head tilted back like an amused goddess. After a little bit of encouragement, and after the fear of looking like a socially awkward freak in front of the other girl took over, you started to dance with her. Properly this time.

A part of you didn’t want to just let go, you were hyperaware of the people all around the two of you. That was the way it had always been for you, so focused on if others were looking at you, and if they were, what they were thinking.

Surely Sienna’s carefreeness had started to rub off on you, as right then you were so tired of caring what others thought, so tired of feeling a knot in your stomach.

Everyone except Brooke and Allie seemed too drunk to even notice anything. Why did it even matter?

The two friends were near but kept their distance, almost as if they wanted to watch you and Sienna rather than dance themselves.

“Do you want a drink?” Sienna’s voice cut over the loud bass. Maybe liquid courage really was a thing. You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak at that moment in time. The brunette simply grabbed your hand, goading you to spin her around a final time before she whisked off towards one of the refreshment tables; a pair of angel wings the only thing you could spot of her in the crowded room.

A total of about five seconds passed before someone had grabbed your arm, turning you around so you could face them. It was Allie, who was sporting a grin like the Cheshire cat. Immediately you felt defensive, the look Brooke was giving you too increasing it tenfold.

“What?” you frowned, slightly backing away as you wrestled out of Allie’s grip. She didn’t say anything herself, instead looking at Brooke to voice their joint thoughts – that was how it usually went.

The blonde took a sip of her vodka and tonic through a straw as she took a quick glance to where you assumed Sienna was. “She looks hot in her costume, doesn’t she?”

Arms crossed tightly over your chest, a picture of insecurity, you shot back: “Sorry?” It wasn’t even jealousy that caused the reaction, you were just overwhelmed with everything that was happening.

“Sienna looks hot in her costume, doesn’t she?” Brooke repeated, voice dripping with patronisation. Sometimes it felt like she thought your brain processed things twice as slow as the average persons. Currently it was as you were beginning to suspect what they were implying.

Trying to control your tone and keep your reaction impartial, you shrugged. “Yeah, I guess so, it’s pretty cool.”

Allie giggled. “You guess so? Please, me and Brooke have been watching you stare at her all night.”

Shit, okay, the suspicion had been right. Both of them had caught onto exactly how you felt. Fear was like a punch to your stomach, making you feel a little nauseous. “Please don’t say anything” was the only sentence you could come up with.

The two girls’ eyes widened, realising they had finally just got conformation on the thing they were only carelessly teasing you about. In reality, they had no more than an inkling towards how you really felt about Sienna. Brooke then laughed. “Shit, dude, I only like kinda suspected it but wow we were right!”

The seconds passed by like an eternity as the tension in the atmosphere could’ve been cut with a knife.

You could only breathe a sigh of relief when Allie reassured you: “I won’t say anything to her I promise,” then sending a very stern look to the definitely tipsy blonde next to her, “neither of us will.” She punctuated the word ‘neither’ particularly harsh – both of you knew gossip was as crucial to Brooke’s survival as oxygen was.

As if reading your minds, the young woman in question put her hands up almost in surrender. “Yes, yes fine, I won’t tell her anything.” Her expression shifted. “However, I’m not going to lie and say if you continue the way you are that she’s never gonna put the pieces together. That is if she hasn’t already.” Brooke slightly nudged you on the arm, trying to drive her point home as gently as possible.

Were you really that obvious?

Before you could ask her to elaborate on how your very intense crush on Miles County’s resident Valkyrie warrior was obvious or defend your honour (and the semblance of pride you had left), Sienna glided up next to you in a flurry of bronze armour and gorgeous hair.

Pressing a red solo cup into your hand, she raised an eyebrow as she looked around at the three of you standing static in amongst the moving crowd.

“What’s up guys?”

Allie, Brooke, and you all equally detested the fact sometimes that your friend was so able to read the room. Sienna’s emotional intelligence was normally something that set off butterflies in your stomach, but currently it made you want to throw your drink all over someone, Brooke seemed the most appealing option currently, and make a dash to the nearest exit.

“We’re just talking about who we’ve seen here tonight so far” the lie came quickly and smoothly from Allie’s lips, leading you to internally note that she might have been less innocent than you gave her credit for.

You and Brooke nodded enthusiastically, as if it didn’t make the whole scene look even more weird. The two of you were like water and oil, when you got along something was usually up. Simply brushing it off as you guys not wanting to divulge something to her, Sienna took a swig of her drink and changed the subject.

“Where’s the boyfriend?” she asked Brooke. The grimace on her face indicated she disliked the guy as much as you and Allie did.

The blonde shrugged with a roll of her eyes. “Probably dancing up on some bimbo somewhere, I don’t know, I don’t keep him on a leash.”

Allie snorted. “You should.”

You and Sienna tried not to laugh, shooting each other a look as Brooke visibly got pissed off. “Yeah whatever.” Without even sending a glance to the rest of you she walked away – clearly the comment had struck a nerve, and she wanted to find Jeff to make sure he wasn’t actually dancing with someone else.

Allie watched her go with an expression a mix of guilt and irritation. “She can never just be pleasant.”

“Duh, it’s Brooke” Sienna laughed, once again shooting you a look. This time you didn’t know what it meant, it seemed she was sneaking glances at you just for the sake of it now. “Maybe you should go check on her? She was drinking quite a lot.” There, that was it, what made Sienna special. Despite your friend being a bitch to you all moments ago, the brunette still had her best interests in mind.

Allie bit her lip and you could tell internally she was battling between being petty and putting that aside to be a good friend. The other side won out, as it usually did where you guys were concerned. “Fine, I’ll go find her.”

At first glance it seemed that Brooke couldn’t have gone far, but Allie’s small form soon was swallowed by the ever-growing crowd.

“You, okay?” Sienna asked you as you looked around the room. She knew you weren’t the biggest fan of large crowds, or people in general rather.

“Yeah, I’m good.” Taking a deep breath you finally took initiative for once and extended your free hand. Your friend didn’t need to ask what you wanted, and grabbed it, leading you both to a less crowded area of the dance floor.

One drink turned into two and soon the both of you were tipsy, constantly bumping into each other as you danced. Sienna didn’t seem to care, she looked as if she was having a really good time. That realisation sent warmth straight down to your toes, the fact she found pleasure in your company was a miracle in your opinion.

The time you spent dancing together felt like hours as you grew increasingly tired, but you were slowly starting to sober up. Sienna seemed to be sobering up too. Soon she was grabbing your arm and pulling you out of the crowd, and down a deserted hallway that was much further into the building than everyone else was. She double checked no one was around before levelling you with a serious expression.

“I kinda need some advice.”

Instantly you were on high alert, worried that something had gone wrong throughout the evening. So instead of exposing yourself as the anxious freak you were, you tried to act irritated.

“What about? Aren’t we supposed to be having fun right now?” You weren’t completely lying; the middle of a party wasn’t exactly the best opportunity to pull someone aside for what seemed like a serious talk. But Sienna looked as if something was troubling her, and you didn’t want to push her away.

“No, no we are, I am I promise. But I need to ask you something.”

Had you done something wrong? A million scenarios ran through your mind, most of them ending with you heartbroken and without her in your life anymore. Maybe if you acted more annoyed, she wouldn’t be able to see how scared you were about what she was going to ask.

“Ugh fine but make it quick I wanna get another drink.” The last thing you wanted in the world was more alcohol, but you needed to make it seem believable.

You had rarely seen Sienna so nervous. “Umm let’s say hypothetically someone is here, and I really like them.” It felt like a fist had taken a hold of your heart and was squeezing so hard you couldn’t breathe, but she continued talking. “And I’m pretty sure they like me too, and I really want to kiss them, but I don’t know how to go about it.”

Oh, you should’ve known. How could someone like her ever feel anything for someone like you?

“What?”

Immediately she looked guilty, perhaps she had realised from the surely heartbroken look on your face that your affections regarding her were more than just friendly. “Look it’s fine we don’t have to talk about it, we can just go get more drinks- “, she tried to backtrack, but you knew if she didn’t explain fully, you’d be (even more of) a mess for the entire night.

“No, its fine I’m just…surprised that’s all… who is it? if I can ask?”

This was going to hurt. Was it Daniel, the artsy kid who she always joked around with in history class? Or maybe Davonte, one of the guys you knew she had grown up with. Truthfully the options were endless, Sienna was the type of person that you just couldn’t dislike. It didn’t help that she was stunningly beautiful on top of that.

What she said next wasn’t particularly weird but wasn’t what you had expected. Usually, friends would be all about telling each other who they liked, she seemed hesitant to divulge that particular piece of information. Didn’t she trust you? “Oh um, would your advice be different depending on the person?”

“…Probably.” You knew the only true advice you wanted to give to her on the topic of kissing someone else was: please don’t. But the bitter truth overcame you that you two weren’t together. She saw you as a friend and nothing more. You had no right to control Sienna’s life that way.

“Okay what about just in general?”

Shrugging, you tried to give the most impartial advice you could muster up. Inside though all you wanted to do was drive home and go to bed – you could wallow in self-pity tomorrow. You just hoped she wouldn’t kiss this guy in front of you.

“Well, um, I don’t know… I guess just ask them if they’re drunk, because consent is important, and if they’re not and they seem into you just go for it you know.”

“Right. Okay.” Sienna took a deep breath and bit her lip. The silence between you began to grow strange, why was she acting so weird? You were about to question why she was acting so off before she blurted out: “Are you drunk?”

Confusion washed over you, you assumed both of you were basically sober now – neither of you were lightweights. And also, you practically had to be as you were supposed to be the one driving you and her home. “No, not really, I’ve kinda sobered up basically. Why are- “

Suddenly her lips were on yours.

Oh.

Your teeth nearly bumped together with the force of it as she crowded you against the wall, before gaining composure and pulling away. The air felt warmer somehow as you both caught your breath. Then you moved forward, and that time were the one to initiate the kiss, a lot more softly. Her lips were tacky from her lipstick and your lip gloss, but you didn’t care.

She tasted like mint, the type of mint flavour you’d expect from chewing gum. It was odd that you could probably guess now that she used spearmint toothpaste.

When you both pulled away again, she finally spoke. “You’re such a dumbass for thinking I wanted to kiss someone else you know, my feelings for you weren’t exactly a secret.”

Her feelings for you?

“Oh.”

Sienna bit her lip to stop herself from laughing. “Did you not know?” You shook your head. “Brooke and Allie have been teasing me about it nonstop for weeks I swear.” They knew, and suddenly you felt quite stupid for believing they were as clueless as they acted.

“Assholes” you could only laugh. You were once again cut off when Sienna grabbed you by the hips and pulled you into for a deeper kiss. Clearly, she had been holding this back for a while and you would have been lying if you said it didn’t make you feel weak in the knees to have her be so rough with you.

The way you were being pressed against the wall would most likely leave you with a bruised spine later, but you couldn’t feel anything in that moment except for Sienna’s warm hands moving under your shirt to feel your bare skin, and her tongue eager and skilled against your own.

The sensation was almost dizzying as she moved away from your lips to kiss down your jaw, leaving a trail of lipstick and fake blood across your face. You honestly didn’t care if anyone could see the both of you, and if you looked ridiculous covered in the proof of your current make out session.

For once in your life, you didn’t care about playing it safe, doing what seemed like the most socially acceptable option – all you were focused on was how it felt.

Sienna’s breath was warm against you as she took a moment to try and compose herself, before failing to and losing it completely as she began to bite and suck bruises down your neck.

Maybe she should’ve gone as the vampire instead as you were sure those marks would stay for a good couple of weeks. But it made you hot to think that days from now you could have a physical reminder of what was currently happening. Proof that this wasn’t just another particularly adventurous wet dream involving your newest yet closest friend.

Sienna had always seemed so gentle in every way, but now she was gripping your hips so hard it started to hurt. Shit, she really did have a different side to her. It made another bolt of heat go straight between your legs. Your underwear was already soaked and none of this was helping.

Pulling away she said: “Can I touch you?” and the question made your brain short circuit for a moment. You had no idea she had even wanted to kiss you until moments ago, and now she was basically saying she wanted you that way. If in any other situation or with any other person, you probably would’ve told them that this was moving way too fast – but oddly with Sienna, it just felt right.

Insecurities weren’t a foreign concept to you, quite the opposite actually, but the area was pretty dark and you trusted her enough to go further.

So, despite your heart basically beating out of your chest, you nodded. “Yeah.”

“You sure?” her eyebrow was raised, clearly not pegging you as the type who was down for doing anything affectionate let alone intimate basically in public. There wasn’t anyone around, and probably wouldn’t be for a good while, but there was always the risk of getting caught. You suspected Sienna found it exciting, whereas you felt a little paranoid but were going along with it anyway because she was clearly really into it.

And if, God forbid, someone was going to walk past or spot you guys, they wouldn’t see much. You were firmly set on keeping most, if not all, of your clothes on, even if you were in Sienna’s bedroom you would probably consider that option too.

“Sienna please, just, yeah.”

Clearly that was good enough of an answer for her as her hands were sliding up slowly under your shirt. “What about here?” she asked, meaning your chest.

Consent was the most important thing, and you found it sweet she was so adamant on making sure you were comfortable, but if she didn’t touch you there or even lower soon you thought you’d genuinely explode from pent up tension.

Nodding, you pushed yourself forward and let out a sigh as her hands finally met your breasts. Surprisingly, her hands weren’t cold, and it was satisfying to feel her one of the places you needed it most. You were still wearing a bra, but it didn’t even matter if you had kept your shirt on or not as Sienna was reaching around behind you to unhook your bra with one hand anyway.

It was a little awkward to get it fully off and out of your shirt but once you had Sienna was all too ready to feel your bare tits. You tried not to gasp as she squeezed them softly, before pinching one of your nipples and laughing when you squirmed (very much not out of discomfort, but something else).

“Are you sensitive?” she teased, laughing as you tried to send her your best imitation of an annoyed look. “Can I use my mouth?”

“Please just…” the request was too embarrassing to ask out loud, but you could see that Sienna liked watching you squirm. She wasn’t going to budge until you admitted what you wanted. “Yes, please.” You were repeating yourself now, too much of a mess to really consider how to word anything.

She unbuttoned your shirt just enough to get access to your breasts and you immediately shivered as the rush of cold air that hit your chest. “You’re going to be the death of me I swear” she laughed as she leant down as low as possible to take one of your nipples into her mouth.

“Shit” the curse was out of your mouth before you could stop it. Sienna’s mouth was so warm and felt so good already. When it came down to the actual business of physically getting you off, you knew you wouldn’t last long. Even her just playing with your tits had you feeling like putty in her hands.

The girl let out a moan as she stopped sucking to kiss all over your chest and neck, nipping you here and there with her teeth to make you shudder. Just when you thought you couldn’t take it any longer, she stood up fully and asked if she could unzip your suit slacks.

“Fuck, okay” you tried to catch your breath, air coming out in puffs as you tried to steady yourself.

The effort proved futile as she moved forward and kissed you with an open mouth yet again, pulling at your bottom lip periodically with her teeth to drive you just that little more insane. Damn, she really did like biting huh? You made a note of that for future purposes, although the “future” in question was most likely less than hours away.

Sienna’s hands moved quickly at your belt, unlooping it before pulling it off and throwing it carelessly on the ground. Next was the zip of your slacks and the top button, once opened she slid her hand swiftly down into the front of your suit trousers. No time to waste, you supposed, someone could walk past any minute.

Besides, her urgency was incredibly sexy. It was like she needed you as much as she wanted you. At first, she began to touch you over your underwear, marvelling at how wet you were.

“Shit, you’re so wet, all of this is because of me?”

“Yeah” your voice was shaky. The understatement of the century.

She groaned as if your words had physically done something to her, and you swallowed hard. “Jesus I can’t believe we’ve waited until now to do this; I could’ve had you like this for me so long ago” she sounded frustrated. You wanted to admit that you shared the same sentiment, that ever since you had first saw her you had wanted to kiss her until the both of you had passed out from lack of oxygen.

You were going to agree, say ‘me too’ or even just kiss her again, but suddenly her fingers were putting pressure right on your clit. It felt just as good through your underwear due to the friction and just how worked up you already were.

She seemed to be observing your face as she added more pressure and then took it away again over and over, starting to rub little circles slowly.

“You like that?” Sienna moaned, then she needily sighed as you pushed off the wall slightly to push your hips further towards her. “Hang on baby” she kissed you and moved her hand away, making you groan into the kiss a little annoyed she was such a tease.

The frustration didn’t last long as this time she was moving her hand back into the front of your slacks, but also inside your panties this time too. Her face was now buried into your neck, kissing, and licking at the bruised skin there, so you could feel when she gasped as she was met with the feeling of your bare wet pussy against her fingers.

“Holy fuck” Sienna sounded almost winded as she pulled her mouth away from your throat, like she was just as worked up from this teasing as you were. “Can I put them inside?” she asked.

“Yes.” and suddenly her index finger was pushing inside you, eager and warm walls practically sucking her in. Your whole body felt electric, and you moaned as she added another digit alongside her index finger – her middle finger this time, stretching and filling you perfectly.

There was a theory that artists tended to be more dexterous with their fingers, and you were starting to believe this was true as the brunette easily found your g spot. Kissing you hard to muffle the sound of your moans, she pressed her fingers up against it again and again. Her thumb moved up to your clit and began to rub circles and in all honesty, you thought the noise you were making (even when muffled) would attract the attention of the rest of the party rooms away.

Sienna’s entire hand was soaked now, some of your arousal dripping down her wrist. The noises being produced were so obscene that you’d feel shameful if you weren’t currently on cloud nine. You were so close, hands gripping onto the sides of her arms as you needed to hold onto something to stop yourself from shaking so much.

It was also a good thing she had you pressed so harshly against the wall as now your knees were Jello. She could tell from how your cunt was tightening around her fingers that you were close to cumming and, to her credit, thought she had teased you enough – so doubled down on her efforts.

The tension inside of you finally snapped and you came with a muffled half moan, half scream as you absolutely drenched her fingers (shit, you had no idea you could even cum that much). Sienna kept on kissing you, taking her thumb off your clit but still keeping her fingers moving inside of you as to not overstimulate you too much as you rode out your orgasm.

She broke the kiss, and you gasped for breath, both from lack of sufficient air and how overwhelmed you were with pleasure. The aftershocks made you clench a little around her fingers every few moments and she watched in fascination as your chest rose and fell, face so warm your flush could be seen in the dark.

Finally catching your breath and regaining (most of) your composure, you felt as Sienna finally pulled her fingers out from inside you, already making you feel a little empty.

She, instead of wiping her hand on your suit pants or her own leg, instructed you: “Open your mouth.” It wasn’t a question. There was no please. You knew you could refuse anytime you wanted.

Immediately doing as she said, your stomach fluttered at the dangerous edge to her voice. You were met with the taste of your own cum as you sucked her index and middle finger into your mouth eagerly, wanting to prove yourself. Prove yourself as what exactly, you didn’t know. But you were beginning to learn that whatever pleased her, pleased you.

“Good girl” Sienna praised without seemingly really thinking about it, and your hands clenched at her biceps, almost accidentally biting down on her fingers with how hard your body physically reacted at that with something. The dark-haired girl could judge from your reaction that you had definitely took the compliment well. “Oh? You like when I call you that?”

She took her fingers out of your mouth and let out a breath of amusement as you couldn’t meet her gaze. “I expect you to look at me when I’m speaking to you.” Well shit. A hint of intimidation mixed in with your arousal as you let go of her arms and tried to meet her eyes with your own.

“Sorry” you murmured. You had no idea why you were even apologising, but something about Sienna’s words had unbalanced you. In a good way though.

After a moment she backed off of you, making sure you weren’t going to collapse due to how weak your limbs felt now.

“Can you-“ she paused for a moment to take a deep breath, “can you get on your knees for me baby?” She was looking up at you with pupils so blown her eyes were practically black and you felt the sudden urge to have your mouth on her somewhere. Maybe her mouth; it was sparkly, no doubt from all the glittery fake blood that resided around yours. It made you want to giggle, until what she had just asked you registered.

Holy fuck. Was this really happening? Did she mean what you thought she meant?

“Of course you don’t have to- “, the makeup artist was already backtracking, paranoid she had suggested something which made you uncomfortable. You shook your head a little too enthusiastically.

“No, no, i-it’s fine… I want to.” You reassured, moving the two of you so that your positions were now flipped, you crowding her against the wall this time. It was strange though, as even though currently you were acting as the more “dominant one”, you were hanging off of her every word. Like she was the one who was meant to be calling the shots.

Sienna’s head tilted down as she watched you get on your knees in front of her. Her facial expression was one of pure surprise, with a hint of arousal. She looked as powerful in that moment as you believed her to be, a winged warrior whom your heart was in the hands of. But in that moment, she was also just your friend: courageous, and smart and funny.

You wanted to give her the world, but that was currently impossible, so you supposed this would have to do.

“Can I touch you?” the question was shaky as you looked up at her. It was weird to see her from this angle, so used to looking down at her slightly due to the height difference being more so in your favour.

There was no hesitation. “Please.”

So, with trembling hands, you ran a palm up her thigh, marvelling how soft her skin was. Some people were a boob person, some were an ass person, you preferred thighs. And you wanted Sienna’s wrapped around your head as soon as physically possible.

The brunette obviously agreed that the anticipation had gotten too much, as she was then taking off the bottom part of her costume carefully as well as the undershorts she had worn under it. You had (very reluctantly) stopped Sienna when she had reached her underwear and was about to take those off too, wanting to do that yourself.

With her legs slightly spread you could see that her wetness had soaked through her panties. Trying to not bite your lip so hard it bled, you took them off and helped her step out of them carefully.

The sight you were met with had you internally scrabbling to remain composed. In between Sienna’s legs was a triangle of dark trimmed hair, and when she spread her thighs apart you were hit with the realisation of just how wet she was. The arousal was dripping down her inner thighs and making your mouth water.

You looked up at her for a signal to go ahead, and once you had received one you kissed your way up her thigh before grabbing her leg and resting her left foot on your left shoulder. Marvelling at her spread open you could feel from her body language that she was a little nervous. The feeling was mutual, so you tried to ease the tension a little bit.

“I can’t believe you’re letting me do this” you giggled. Jesus, socially awkward much? Sienna Shaw had you between her legs with no panties on and you were giggling like a loser. The thought did nothing to dispel the fluttering feeling in your stomach, it was as if the weight of her foot on your shoulder was the only thing keeping you from floating off the ground.

The brunette let out a huff of laughter, leaning back until her head hit the wall, rather in disbelief herself. “I can’t believe this is happening to begin with.” Your facial expression must’ve turned into something a little less light-hearted as she quickly rectified her statement. “Not that I’m not loving this, you look really cute right now.”

Heat simultaneously rose up to your face and down between your legs at the compliment.

“Seriously, you’re being so good for me”. One of her hands ran through your hair and then moved down to caress your face, you leaned into her touch.

Although technically this was just a hookup between 2 good friends at a Halloween party, the moment felt special. You had no idea why she had feelings for you of all people, but the way she was looking at you right then made you believe that she was genuinely telling the truth. That you were the one she wanted to be with, the one she wanted to do this with.

You leaned forward impossibly closer to her, face just mere inches away from what laid in between her legs. Looking up at her, you wanted to make sure it was okay before you finally got what you had wanted for what felt like forever.

“Go ahead baby”.

The permission she gave to you was the final thing to shatter your composure entirely, you gripped the back of her thighs and finally tasted her. Moaning as you buried your face without any shame into her pussy, you heard as she gasped, most likely from the eagerness of which your tongue was exploring her cunt.

“Jesus Christ” Sienna swore as you licked one long stripe from her entrance right up to her clit, repeating this until she was a trembling mess. Her façade was slowly cracking as you felt her get more desperate to cum, the dominant persona she had shown earlier melting away slightly. In all honesty you didn’t care about the dynamic between the two of you right now, you just wanted her to cum all over your face.

The shorter girl’s blunt nails dug into your scalp as she grabbed your hair harder to grind against your face, deciding the pressure and pace you were going at (which was admittedly rather to tease than anything) wasn’t enough.

The taste of her plus the fact she was practically fucking your face made you moan so loud you almost felt embarrassed. The idea of her using you like this was too much to handle, and shifting a little on your knees you discovered you were wet again already.

You were only almost embarrassed at your own noises because they were clearly sending vibrations straight up to the brunette’s clit and making her let out a string of curses. Her arousal had drenched the bottom half of your face and was dripping down your chin, you wished this could last forever. You would gladly spend the rest of eternity doing this with her if it was possible.

“Fuck that feels so good baby” Sienna tried to say more, before the words trailed off into a groan. The only thing stopping you from moving a hand between your own legs was the fact that you were more worried about holding her up. Sienna’s legs were shaking with pleasure, and it was hitting some sweet egotistical spot in your chest.

Her breathing was getting faster and more ragged as she leant against the wall, clearly on the edge. It made you want to both slow down and speed up at the same time – you wanted to make this last as long as possible. For all you knew, tomorrow it would be like nothing had happened, like you two were just close girl friends. Like you didn't now know what sorts of sounds she made when she’s being eaten out.

But Sienna’s hands were tightening in your hair, and you needed to know more than anything how she sounded like when she came. What her cum tasted like. The uncomfortable ache in your jaw was immediately forgotten as you doubled down your efforts. She tasted absolutely amazing and you knew you’d never forget doing this, could never forget doing this.

She sounded so pretty coming apart above you, panting and moaning as you abused her clit with your tongue.

As the both of you were already pent up, within a few more moments she was coming with a loud gasp, pressing herself against your face as close as physically possible as if she was scared you were going to move away. The reality was that you were more likely to just stay there and never leave. The noises she made were hopefully unheard by anyone else, but you, you were sure to hear them in many wet dreams to come.

Is this what heaven was like? Was she actually some sort of ethereal being? More wetness flooded your mouth, and you were thankful that your feelings for her were so obvious, as otherwise she might not have dragged you here under the guise of needing ‘friendly advice.’

Soon the loud gasps had quietened into barely concealed whimpers, and you were holding yourself back from kissing your way up her inner thigh to do it all over again.

Sienna was trying to catch her breath coming down from an admittedly very intense orgasm, and her grip on your hair was a lot gentler as she stroked your face. “Holy shit.”

You seconded that sentiment, feeling almost dizzy with both satisfaction at making her cum and need for relief again yourself. The ache between your legs was becoming unbearable again, but the current position you were in made you hold off on relieving it so soon.

For a moment, it was quiet except for her quiet breathing and the much louder sound of your racing heart. The two of you could also hear the faint music from the party happening somewhere off in the distance.

“Are you good?” the brunette checked up on you. It made you want to laugh and cry at once – good? You had just acted out your biggest fantasy with someone who you were borderline in love with. Good didn’t cover it.

“Y-yeah.”

Sienna stroked your hair, silently glad that she hadn’t pushed any boundaries with you. It made your heart swell to feel her being so gentle with you, showing she could be as sweet as she could be rough. The perfect balance. You managed to gather enough strength to get up off of your knees and on your feet again to kiss her.

The other girl’s arms wrapped around your neck as she pulled you close, the two of you needing a minute to take in what had just happened.

You realised both of you were still partially undressed and pulled away from the kiss to button your shirt back up and grab the discarded part of her costume as well as her underwear and undershorts. “You should probably uh,” you gestured to her naked lower half, secretly appreciating the sight but more paranoid than anything that some stranger was going to come past and get an eyeful of her ass or more.

Sienna giggled a little at the expression of pure anxiety on your face, thinking that sometimes you were prone to worrying over nothing. There had been no one where the two of you were the entire night. “Calm down, I’ll put my clothes back on” she teased you light-heartedly as she took her underwear and undershorts from you. “Wanna help me put them back on?”.

With all the sex stuff you had forgotten she was almost as much of a dork as you were. Either that or a really big flirt. Probably both.

You ignored the fact you still were incredibly pent up and let her grab your shoulder for balance as she got dressed again. “Can we go back to your place?” you asked, handing her the Valkyrie skirt, and watching as she adjusted it around her waist.

“Oh?” Sienna shot you a look, “of course”. She gave you a peck before taking a hold of the knot of your cape and tightening it, somewhere down the line it had loosened and was close to falling off. “Are you okay to drive?”. Both of you had been sober for quite awhile now, and you trusted that you were fine to get you both to her house safely. You told her you were going to be okay behind a wheel.

The thought of being with her in the privacy of her own bedroom sounded like something to look forward to right now.

As soon as Sienna’s bedroom door slammed behind the two of you, she was pushing you towards the bed, neither of you even bothering to turn on the lights so the room wouldn’t be encased in darkness. Jonathan was out with his friends at some party, the same with Sienna’s mom, meaning the two of you very thankfully had the house to yourselves.

You both collapsed onto her bed in a tangle of limbs, your lips working their way down her neck. Taking charge seemed far away for a brief moment to her as you climbed on top of the Valkyrie warrior, before she remembered how deliciously pathetic you had sounded moaning into her.

Without even thinking, Sienna pushed herself up off the bed and against you, hooking her legs around your back and flipping you two over so now she was the one on top.

You let out a noise of surprise as you looked up at her. “Shit, okay, not complaining about this”.

“Of course you’re not complaining you loser” she laughed, not really meaning the insult. Even if you were a loser, maybe she liked that.

When you grabbed her hips, Sienna responded by grinding down into you, making your breath hitch. Her face showed a mix of concentration and arousal as she tried to take off her wings, shoulder piece and breast plate as carefully and as quickly as possible – sure the costume had taken months to create, but she also really wanted to be inside you right then.

It took a moment, and you having to actually sit up and help her, but finally she was naked from the waist up and you were rewarded with the sight of her bare chest.

Her breasts were perfect, as you had expected them to be, even if they hadn’t been you still would’ve wanted them in your mouth as much as you wanted them right now. The brunette’s hair was framing her face perfectly as she looked down at you, the lamp light illuminating the space around her almost creating the impression that she was glowing.

Grabbing her by the hips and pulling her towards you, the warrior shifted in your lap as you teased one of her nipples using your mouth.

“Fuck” she swore, grabbing the back of your hair when you moved one of your hands away from her hip to fondle her left breast a lot less gentle than you were being with your mouth. Sienna couldn’t believe this was happening still, she had known about your crush on her for a while now but was surprised either of you had the metaphorical balls to do something about it.

Oh, but was she glad though, now pulling you away from her chest and pushing you forcefully down on the bed. “Enough of this teasing bullshit” she practically growled, ripping your shirt open so hard that some of the buttons popped off.

Frankly you didn’t care, the whole costume was bought on a budget and besides, you were too turned on to think of any of the practicalities.

Once your shirt was open, she shimmed down you to take off your belt again, this time for good, and throw it across the room to land somewhere on her bedroom floor. Next came your cape, which would’ve made you giggle in any other situation. Sienna pulled down your slacks with an urgency that, coming from her, was previously unbeknownst to you.

She unhooked your bra and threw it to the side to join the other clothes that were on the floor. “Take these off baby” she was gesturing to your suit trousers.

You kicked them off, leaving them in a bunch at the end of her bed. The half-naked girl bent down to kiss you again as she worked on taking the rest of her costume off, now both of you were basically only in underwear (you still in your shirt somehow – neither of you seemed to care, more concerned with the feeling of her hips pressed against yours).

“You’re so beautiful” you couldn’t help but comment, running a hand down her arm and noticing the gold shimmer of her glitter paint in the dark. Sienna’s face flushed but you didn’t notice, a fact she was grateful of.

The two of you both didn’t feel like you needed to say anything else to each other for a while, simply kissing and enjoying the sensation of her bare chest against yours. The brunette’s breathing was getting heavier though and soon she was reaching to pull down and take off the last article of clothing she had on.

She asked you: “Can we try something?”.

That question made you as curious as it did aroused. “Umm okay”.

Sienna stroked your thigh comfortingly, worried you were anxious for no good reason. “I can do all the work just-” she sighed as she climbed off you for a moment to take your underwear off too, “lift your leg up and put it over my shoulder baby”. Feeling a mix of apprehensive and overwhelmed you did as she said – your stomach fluttering as you noticed how strong her hands were.

Then you realised what she was doing, no stranger yourself to porn. And could only moan as she pushed her hips forward and down, so that her cunt met yours.

“Does this feel good for you?” she asked through pants, clearly enjoying it herself. She felt so wet, and you had to bite your tongue to stop yourself from swearing when your clits rubbed together. It was too much and not enough at the same time – this was going to be the death of you.

You could only reply to her question with a string of curses and moans as she experimented with different angles, trying to get the most direct contact with your pussy as possible. Some led to more contact than others but all felt as equally good, and the noises that were being made caused your face to feel hot.

Sienna seemed to go harder when you tried to speak but found you couldn’t form any words, it was becoming clear to you that she liked when you were a desperate mess.

“You look so cute right now” she said, knowing that neither of you were going to last long. “God I love you so much” leaning down, the dark-haired girl kissed you, still rocking her hips against yours as much as she could in the position.

Even though you weren’t getting as much pressure on your clit before now, you still opened your mouth into the kiss – noticing how close you were. She had just said she loved you.

Sienna was pressing her face into your neck now, overwhelmed, her breathing growing more ragged by the minute. “We can’t go back from this you know. After this you’re mine” she sounded close to crying, “I can’t just be your friend, I can’t”.

You didn’t know what to say, so you kissed her again and held her until you both came hard. It was the truth though, the both of you couldn’t be friends anymore after what had happened.

You tried to catch your breath, body still trembling, and told her: “I love you too”.

On the Monday two days later, the weather was warm and got increasingly more unbearable as you pulled your hoodie up, hoping to whatever God was listening that the concealer on your neck wouldn’t rub off anytime soon. Sienna had rocked up to class in a similar fashion but seemed to pull it off better than you did. Neither of you had approached each other in public for fear of embarrassing yourselves.

Pretences were tiring to keep, and after the weekend that had passed you wouldn’t be able to look the brunette in the eye anymore without blushing.

You would call her your friend as you hadn’t necessarily put a label on your relationship yet; however, it was a lot more complicated than that now, and you had never been so happy about complications before. Allie and Brooke had texted you a few times over the weekend talking about aimless stuff, and mainly just making sure that you were alive after disappearing on Friday.

But you couldn’t tell if they had realised what had gone on – going off of what Sienna had told you about them the night of the party you guessed it was only a matter of time before it would be confirmed to them.

Actually, the idea wasn’t as daunting to you as it would have been mere days ago though. It felt like something in you had unravelled, like a rubber band had snapped; you were no longer as fearful of being judged anymore. Maybe it was just because you were so happy, for the past three days now you had woken up in a good mood and it was all down to one person.

Sienna, even when she had just been your friend, made your biggest troubles seem like mere inconveniences when she was around. Her presence was so calming and self-assured. As long as she was with you, nothing could ever hurt you. The girl had said that to you before and you had believed it wholeheartedly. You still did.

And now you two were making the metaphorical (and in this case kind of literal) walk of shame to the lunch table you guys shared with Allie and Brooke every weekday. Both of them seemed a little distracted, but upon realising you and Sienna’s presence they then seemed all too alert. Brooke actually put her phone away. Was this the Twilight Zone or something?

“So” the blonde coughed as you sat down next to Allie. Sienna taking the place next to Brooke. Keeping a distance between you and your crush right then was a good idea as you were sure they were about to borderline interrogate you guys. “What have you guys got for lunch?” Brooke asked, stabbing some salad with her fork.

What a pleasant surprise, for once in her life Brooke Valdeon wasn’t being a complete bitch.

Allie seemed to be following suit, silently asking Sienna to open a bottle of soda for her as she couldn’t do it herself. Neither of them seemed to care that you and Sienna had definitely hooked up and were probably more than friends. The only thing that they said that even showed an inclination of their knowledge was when Allie complained about now being the only single one amongst you all.

“Seriously guys, there’s so many single people out there – surely one of them’s for me, why haven’t I found them yet?”

Brooke rolled her eyes; “Cause you say cringe shit like that.” You all laughed and even Allie had to crack a smile at that, knowing it was pretty much true.

After lunch break Sienna had offered to walk you to class, just the two of you, leaving a surprisingly supportive Allie and Brooke in your wake. She had her hands stuffed into the pockets of her jeans and looked incredibly nervous. You had literally seen her entirely naked not even three days ago, and she was still acting like you guys were at the end of a first date or something, you would’ve poked fun at her if it wasn’t so cute.

“Would you wanna come round mine tonight? We could watch a movie, I just renewed my Shudder subscription” she offered quietly.

You tried not to smile, “Like a date?”

She looked down at her converse, nothing like the girl you had been with on Friday. “Yeah, I mean, if you want it to be…”

Instead of giving Sienna a verbal response you checked the hallway was empty before grabbing her by her hoodie strings to pull her close and kiss her. You pulled away after a few moments, happy you could now do that without risking making a complete fool of yourself. Watching you as you turned around and opened the door to your next class, Sienna looked surprised. Surely that was a good enough answer to her question.

“So, is that a yes?!” she shouted after you, flustered.

“Duh, Sienna! Of course it’s a yes!”

a/n: and then you guys had a super cute date/movie night and watched the Texas chainsaw massacre and lived happily ever after with no scary borderline immortal clown ruining your lives ::))

a/n: okay but part two will be out soon promise promise just working on a yellowjackets thingy atm!!

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accio-victuuri · 2 months ago

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THANK YOU, FILMMAKER WANG YIBO… 💕🫶🏼

this is a sort of recap post for the huabiao awards and basically a post to celebrate yibo and the amazing actor that he is. i know that we all have mixed feelings about this, and every other nomination that he didn’t win, but it’s important to go back to why we are here and support him. it’s because he is yibo and his works do not disappoint both the fans and the general audience. we already won when we watched those films — whenever that was for you.

we were all holding our breath if he will make it to the red carpet, sadly, he didn’t. that actually went on hs. his schedule was already so tight with the race and flying to qingdao. thankfully, his team took some excellent photos of him and with all the racer 85 related props 👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼

then as soon as he sat down, he was a bit late to the ceremony too, the host cued him and mentioned his name. he stood up and bowed to the audience. i love the cheers for him!

the award for outstanding actor was early, i guess all of us got nervous and hopeful that he will get it. he didn’t but he was so gracious. he was nodding and clapping. the tag on hs for him is how you can’t lipread what he’s saying. some are guessing that he said that it’s not easy, meaning it’s not easy to win it. and considering he was up against zhang yi, it makes sense.

you probably read about how hard it is to get nominated for this category. this award is given every 2 years. no distinction between supporting and main actor and there are only 2 nominees. just imagine all the eligible movies and actors — but still, yibo was chosen. he is the first post 90s actor to get nominated. and this is technically, within his first year of being a movie actor and releasing his works.

i have no bad blood with zhang yi. he is a well loved actor and what a coincidence that they both posted about each other’s movie before, and now, they ended up being nominated side by side.

yibo recognizes excellence. if anything, i’m sure this makes him want to strive more to be on that level. i’m trying hard to not quote timothee chalamet’s SAG speech here but it fits so well — “ i know we’re in a subjective business, but the truth is I’m really in pursuit of greatness. I know people don’t usually talk like that, but I want to be one of the greats.” and he is on his way to becoming one of the greats. it’s a privilege to watch him grow into that, and i hope we all stay on for years to come and see it happen.

the surprise was how he was actually gonna be onstage. not only that, he was there with zhang ziyi and jackie chan to give a tribute to Chinese Cinema. it makes me proud to see him be the representative of the young generation. because he really is. and he doesn’t even need to pretend and perform to be that — he already is. it comes natural to him.

overall, he was in a good mood. why wouldn’t he? he is attending an event celebrating the movies he worked hard for. tho my favorite is when he smiled like a kid after he presented on stage and how he was interacting with his seat mates — especially Ma Li.

lastly, i’ll talk about some pre-awards chatter. weeks before, people were talking about if yibo would go or not. moreso, if he will be nominated. it’s so ironic cause his antis were babbling about how people that are not invited are blacklisted cause it’s the 120th anniversary celebration. but lo and behold — not only is he attending. all the films he participated in are nominated. he is nominated as best actor. and during the broadcast, he went onstage with jackie chan and zhang ziyi. 😂😂😂😂

it’s the usual song and dance. it’s yibo’s favorite past time. proving his haters wrong.

same thing with them saying he is “banned” because it’s been a while since his last movie project - mermaid. clearly not. tonight’s program showed how he is the movie darling. he is just doing what he said he will be in his past interview, that he wants to experience the world to be able to be better in his craft. i couldn’t get that out of my head when he said it and that explains all his decisions. he is gonna be so selective with his next movie project and i’m excited what he picks next! he’s always had an excellent intuition of what roles will work well and challenge him. the rest can breathe for a while cause he is not coming for their wigs — yet. lol. i have a feeling that as soon as mermaid is out, he is gonna raise the bar again. we just have to wait patiently.

anyway, that’s all. the road ahead is long and we will continue to accompany actor wang yibo! 💪🏼💪🏼💪🏼

#wang yibo #I AM TOXIC ACTOR WANG YIBO FAN MOST OF THE TIME #just an excuse to talk about yibo lol

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distantsapphicdream · 2 months ago

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The Birthday Blues

This is my first attempt at fanfiction so I hope you enjoy :) Partly inspired by 'Who will love a little sparrow?' By @littlcdarlin, so please check out their work!!

Pairing: Jackson!Joel and GN!Reader

Wc: 1.7k

Tags: Fluff, a little angst, mentions of child loss, post outbreak.

❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀

A birthday was the celebration of birth and life itself, a dedication to the years someone had spent upon the Earth and usually a hope for many more. Often accompanied by cake and awkward, out of tune song, birthdays were a joyous occasion that were held dearly by most.

For Joel, celebration had not been seen for years. The day was always covered by a shroud of grief that had long slipped between his ribs and nestled right into his heart. He had no right to celebrate, not when he had failed so miserably to protect his little girl, forced to watch as the light of his life faded in his arms.

The watch had never come off his wrist since then, the glass shattered and the time forever immortalised at the moment of Sarah's death. She had only gotten it fixed hours before as his birthday gift.

Getting older was a privilege he had never thought himself deserving of, why him? So many others lost their lives young, before and after the outbreak, innocent and full of hopes that lay crushed in the dirt of their graves. Sarah deserved to grow old, to grow up in the first place, not Joel.

An early riser he had always been, up before the birds managed to chirp their good morning greetings as the sun made its appearance. But today? Joel slept in. The dreaded day had come, and he refused to face it.

When he finally turned over in bed to let the day begin, nothing lay beside him as he reached out in the soft sheets. Right. You were on the early morning patrol, and he likely wouldn't see you until noon. Maybe it was for the best, you deserved better than to see him sour and sorrowed first thing in the morning.

His feet carried his weight across the floor, the old wooden boards creaking softly with each step he took. A glance at the mirror spoke everything of his age, not that he had miraculously transformed overnight, but the significance of the day had him noticing just how worn he looked.

Lines had embedded themselves into his forehead, no longer hidden away when he relaxed his features, along with the telltale flecks of crows feet at the corners of his eyes. Had he always looked so grey and so glum? The longer he looked, the deeper the reality settled into the pit of his stomach; Joel was old.

Old or not, he had started his day with coffee since the ripe age of fifteen and had no plans of stopping now. It was the one consistent thing throughout his life, a comfort that reminded him of simpler days back in Arlington when he sat on the porch and held a scalding cup in one hand, watching the sun rise.

Mornings in Jackson could be started the exact same way, but it was never truly the same, a mere replica of the past that could never scratch the itch of home.

Unwillingly, his body stiffly trudged along through the house as the dregs of sleep clung to his system, begging him to lay back down and never get back up. But he continued the journey to the kitchen, eventually stopping in his tracks at the sight of you there.

"Good mornin'." Joel muttered in greeting, his voice still slightly rough from waking up. "What happened to patrol? I thought you were meant to be out." The question came off harsher than intended, as though he had wished you weren't there, which was far from the truth.

Shaking his head in a sheepish manner, his hands raised in a placating gesture as he stepped towards you. "Not that I ain't happy to see you, just wonderin'." Apology came in the form of a gentle brush of his lips against your forehead, meant to soothe any ideas you may have gotten about his initial questioning.

"You think I was going to miss your birthday? Tommy agreed to swap with me, said it was no problem." You answered, a slight smile curving across your lips as Joel brought you into his arms. "Happy Birthday." It was a mere whisper against the shell of his ear, as though the day were some big secret that no one else could know about. Though that made it more intimate, more quiet.

Joel bristled at the mention of the occasion, yet forced himself to bear it for your sake; you were just being nice. "Thank you, sweetheart." He spoke lowly, the smallest of smiles tugging at his mouth as you pushed a hot cup of coffee into his hands. The mug was old, worn, and familiar, fitting into his hands perfectly from years of continual use.

"You know you don't have to make a big fuss about it, just gettin' older, ain't a big deal." But it was, it was a bigger deal than he truly cared to admit. The signs of age had already sank into the depths of his bones, the odd click of a joint sounding like a mockery of how life had passed him by.

You, on the other hand, still had a bright glimmer in your eye when you looked at him, undeterred by the years that came with him. Growing old was a sign of strength, especially after the outbreak, a display of survival as the world itself crumbled.

"If you don't want a fuss, I won't make one. But.." The words trailed off as a spark of excitement grew clearer in your expression, mixed with nerves that threatened to make your stomach topple over. "I got you a present." A gift, that was a fuss.

Joel thought to argue, to deny whatever you were surely going to thrust into his hands any minute now. However, the way you looked at him made him stop midway through forming his rebuttal. You were excited, even giddy to give him the gift, and who was he to ruin that joy, even if it meant a little discomfort?

"Alright, alright, lay it on me. Better not be anything you traded an arm and a leg for." The idea that you would disadvantage yourself just to get him something for his birthday was one that made his heart ache.

"It's not, I promise. Pretty small actually." You assured, delivering a feather-light kiss to the curve of his cheek to soothe the worry knotted into his brow. The wrapping was simple and even slightly messy, tied together by a little bow made of twine.

Setting his coffee down on the counter, the paper crinkled as you placed the present into Joel's hands with a smile, watching as he tested its weight and felt the shape of the object, running a finger along the edges. "Now, just what is this?" He murmured, letting his hands roam over the surface of the paper in curiosity.

"Open it and you'll find out." You mused, jabbing a finger at the wrapped gift to coax him into opening it. His fingers were precise as they reached for the twine, gently tugging at the bow to unlace it and set the crinkled paper free.

Inside lay a worn copy of a book long published before the outbreak, the pages slightly yellowed with age and torn at the edges. The title read 'A Woodworker's Guide to Whittling' in faded lettering, the image on the cover depicting a carved horse that had clearly been crafted with care.

Joel stood in silent reverence as he allowed his fingers to peruse the page, flicking them over in admiration to commit each design to memory; a rabbit, an owl and a buck to name a few. "This..this is really somethin'." Something, that's what he had deemed it.

When you looked at him to nervously seek his approval, he let out a soft huff of laughter before nodding his head. "More than somethin', sweetheart. I'll use it, promise, maybe even make one of 'em for you." It was his birthday, and Joel was promising to carve you something nice from his gift.

"You don't have to make me anything, Joel, it's for you. I know you like to keep yourself busy." His workspace was a testament to that, an array of projects with some frozen in the middle of their progress, just waiting for the day his hands would whittle a knife into the wood once more. Joel had never liked to remain idle for long, often becoming restless if left with no task to busy himself with. The gift gave him an outlet for that frustration, offering his still hands something to focus on.

He gently set the book aside to allow his arms to wrap around you again, soft yet strong as they cradled you in a tender embrace. "You're too good to me." Joel blurted, his face hidden from view as he tucked his chin atop your head. "That mind of yours is real thoughtful, sweetheart." You had taken the time and the care to find something that interested him, something that let him delve deeper into his passion; you were far too good for the likes of him.

So he held you closer, angling his head down until he could pepper another kiss to your brow as a silent reminder to himself that you were really there in his arms, that you were with him.

"That coffee's gonna get cold." You quietly teased, poking a finger at his ribs to push him back just slightly. But his grip was insistent, reluctant to let go of you.

Relenting to his unyielding grasp, you tilted your head up to capture his lips with your own, soft and sweet as you melted against him. "Happy Birthday, Joel." A half giggled whisper came against his lips as you pulled back to offer your well wishes.

"Thank you." If only for a fleeting moment, you could have sworn that Joel's eyes appeared to be misty with the glossiness of unshed tears. Though as soon as they were there, they were gone, and he put on a brave face.

It was a hard day, nobody could blame him for feeling the weight of his long-standing grief. But with you in his arms, it felt a little easier to bear.

Maybe this year would be better, and a birthday would feel like less of a burden.

#joel miller fluff #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller one shot #first fanfic #first time fanfic

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feelbokkie · 6 months ago

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L♡VE IN F♡CUS | Chapter 20

PAIRING: idol!Changbin x fem reader

WARNINGS: swearing, mention of food/eating

GENRE: smau, crack, angst, fluff

P♡V: 1st/2nd person (depending on how you view it)

SUMMARY: Amateur concert photographer Y/n has recently been promoted to junior music journalist. Her first assignment? An exposé on the popular Kpop boy group, Stray Kids. Spending an entire tour doing in depth interviews with eight men seems simple enough, but one member isn't exactly open to the idea. Will Y/n be able to break down the walls around his heart, or will her big break turn into a big disaster?

TAGLIST: open

SCREENSH♡T C♡UNT: 9

A/N: surprise, 2 updates in one day! ch 20 is short because it was going to have a written part but the written part is long so i decided to split the chapters up. and since i’m splitting them i decided to just post 20 now because I was already done

PREVIOUS | MASTERLIST | NEXT

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lightdancingwords · 6 months ago

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Come Find Me - Part Eight

Pairing: Beau Arlen x F. Reader

Series Summary: You are a new arrival to Big Sky, Montana, and found gainful employment with the local insurance department next door to the sheriff’s department. A whole new life with your past haunting you, while Beau is still dealing with the entanglements with his ex-wife. Can either of you succeed in overcoming your ghosts?

Word Count: 3,369

Tags/Warnings: Fluff, mentions domestic violence/intimate partner violence, mentions police work, a little bit of angst, communication problems, profanity, discussion of teen sex (18+ character)

A/N: Comments, Likes, Reblogs, Kind feedback are always highly appreciated. Please let me know if you want to be added to the tag list! Please see this post regarding future story posts.

Divider: credit to @tsunami-of-tears

Chapter Eight: A Bump In The Road

It had been almost a week since you and Beau went on your official ‘first’ date. Life complications kept interfering and being a sheriff meant Beau was busy, especially when he was coordinating calls about cars sliding off the road and citizens needing help.

You absolutely understood and had no problems waiting… because now you knew something was happening with him. Every time you flashed back to that kiss, to that restaurant, you felt your heart swell with love and adoration.

Doris caught you that Monday morning with the goofiest smile on the planet and keyed right in. “Well, it’s about damned time!”

You blinked at her, startled. “About time..?”

“Oh don’t get me started with your innocent look,” she said with a fond scoff. “Beau’s been walking about with the same silly smile.”

You couldn’t help it, you grinned. “Really?”

Doris rolled her eyes and smiled. “Yes, really. He isn’t on Cloud Nine. I think he’s in Cloud Heaven.”

Your smile warmed and widened. “We kissed,” you confessed. “He took me to Ciao Bella and oh, Doris… it was wonderful.”

“I’m glad,” she said, and there was a firmness to her tone that spoke volumes. “You two deserved some happiness.”

You paused, then admitted, “I didn’t think I could trust again, Doris. But every step of the way, Beau proved I could, even when I didn’t ask him to.”

“He’s a rare man,” she said with a nod. “Stubborn, Lord yes, but a good man.”

“I’m scared.”

Doris studied you for a long moment, then said, “It’s okay to be scared. Even when I knew it was going to happen, I was scared of facing this life alone without my Stan. I loved that son of a bitch and I also hated him. When he was gone and I was free, Adam snatching me up terrified me.”

“How… how did you get over it?” You dreaded asking that question. Doris seemed so strong, you envied her strength of character. You hated how you constantly felt weak.

“I did it anyway. That fear only works if it wins in holding you in place. So do it scared.”

You thought back to how you finally confronted Beau. It worked, because it gave him the kick he needed… and where your relationship was now.

“Do it scared,” you mused.

“Exactly.”

You thought about that all day as you fielded phone calls from clients who needed their insurance because they apparently forgot how to drive in snow. Just as you were grabbing paper from the printer, you heard the door chime. “Hi, I’ll be right with you,” you said absently, and then turned around.

With a start, you saw it was Emily! With a smile, you got up and greeted her. “Emily, hey! Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”

“Hey Y/N,” she said with a shaky smile.

That cued you into realizing something was up. “Is everything okay?”

“Um… can I talk to you? A-and you won’t tell my dad?”

Your brows swooped up. Carefully, you sat back down and regarded this young woman. You recalled Beau telling you Emily had just turned eighteen, so legally, she was an adult. But she was also just a kid….

“I can’t make that promise, Emily,” you said gently.

“It’s nothing bad! I just… I can’t ask my mom because she’s my mom, but I also need to talk to a woman.”

Baffled, you stared at Emily. Alarmingly, you worried if it was because maybe she was pregnant and wanted a ride to an abortion clinic. “I… um…”

“C-can I just… tell you?”

You nodded, praying you wouldn’t be caught in a situation where you’d have to help someone in a difficult situation.

“So… I’ve been with this guy, Tyler, for a few months now. He… I guess he’s my boyfriend—”

“You guess?” you asked in disbelief.

“We never really made it official,” Emily said defensively. “He said he wasn’t ready and I didn’t want to be one of those girls who pressured the guy, you know?”

Oh God. You had an inkling where the conversation was going, and prayed you were wrong. “Yeah, I’ve… been there. Go on, Emily.”

“Well, Tyler wants to take me on this really romantic date and… I think he wants us to do it.” The way she fidgeted made you think of Beau, and you wondered if he was ever an awkward teenager.

“‘It’?”

She blushed, and looked away skittishly. “You know… it.” She dropped her voice to a loud whisper despite no one else was in the office with you. “Sex.”

You found yourself wishing a giant sink hole would form and swallow you up. You actually waited several seconds, before deciding you weren’t so lucky.

“Emily… are you a virgin?”

Her face turned redder and she ducked her head. “Oh God,” she said, rubbing her face. “I… y-yeah. I really want it to be great and I really like Tyler. I just… don’t know what to do!”

“Emily, this is really something you should talk to your parents about—”

“No, I can’t!” She let out a breath. “Dad would turn all red and stutter and mom… when she gave me the ‘talk’, she kept harping on how love is really special and…”

“You felt patronized and shamed at even thinking about sex without love,” you hazarded. For some reason, Carla gave you that impression. Emily confirmed it a moment later.

“Yes! And I just… oh God, this is so embarrassing!”

She had no idea. You took a breath and decided to do your best. “Emily,… I was in college before I slept with a guy. We were both rather drunk and it was so embarrassing, I ended up being single for a year after that.”

Her eyes widened at your bluntness. She leaned forward, listening.

“Sex… can be really great. Exciting, even, especially if it’s with someone you have great chemistry with… but you shouldn’t rush into it.” You tried to articulate your thoughts. “You shouldn’t have sex just to get it over with or think it’ll make the guy love you. You should have sex when you feel ready for it. Whether it’s a one night stand or the beginning of a relationship, you need to be the one who decides to take that step for the right reason.”

Emily pondered that, biting her lower lip just like the way Beau did when he was lost in thought. “Does it ever get easier?”

“Relationships?”

“Yeah. Like… it’ll get easier… right?”

“I wish,” you said with a rueful smile.

“Ugh. Great.” She fixed a curious look on you. “Is it getting easier with my dad?”

“It is, actually,” you admitted. It was so weird having this conversation with Emily. She was your—God, did you dare call Beau your boyfriend?—she was Beau’s daughter.

“Can I ask how did it change?”

You thought of a random text message that you boldly sent, of the way you confronted him after he began avoiding you. Of how he gave you the space you so desperately needed, that when it finally happened, it was perfect.

“I found my voice and I used it,” you said. “I took that bold step, put my heart on the line, and I got so lucky.”

“Wasn’t it scary doing that?”

“God, yes,” you admitted with a breathless chuckle. “Your father could’ve ignored me, turned me away, but he didn’t, because we were actually wanting the same thing. A relationship works when the two in that situation feel the same way.”

In that moment, you caught a glimpse of the person she might turn into. Wise, intelligent, with enough sense of humor to balance her out. “Thanks, Y/N… I really needed this.”

“You’re welcome,” you said kindly. “I hope your decision is, whatever it turns out to be, makes you happy.”

“Thanks.”

—

“God, darlin’,” Beau grumbled over the phone as you drove home Friday night. “It was supposed to be our third date and instead I have to cancel, again. I’m about to go mad.”

You chuckled. Beau sounded so frustrated, because even as he grumbled, he’ll do his job. He wouldn’t leave people without help. Oh, he could have assigned his deputies to it, and he was, but he was one of the rare specimens of leadership where he actively participated as well as ordered. He refused to sit in his warm trailer while people were out in the cold.

Montana had the rare bout of snow every night and chilly days that left slick patches of ice everywhere. Friday night was the first night in a week that didn’t have snow. However, there were issues with black ice and a particularly bad accident on a bridge led to numerous calls to redirect, assist, or otherwise manage.

“Well, TGIF? You can always stop by afterwards and we can at least see each other,” you suggested as you carefully turned a corner.

“Careful there, darlin’,” he said, and a trace of flirtatious energy came through. “I just might use that invitation to neck you all night.”

The mental image of your neck covered in hickeys had a flash of heat through your core. “That actually sounds like fun. I’ll pencil you in up until midnight.”

He groaned through the phone. “Christ, darlin’. Just midnight? I was thinkin’ at least ‘til dawn.”

“Someone’s ambitious,” you replied, your voice rich with humor.

“Someone has a gorgeous neck that I wanna—Jesus Christ, Pop!” You heard him cuss a blue streak, the phone held away. “Just five minutes, darlin’,” he sighed when he returned to the phone. “Just five goddamned minutes with my girlfriend. That’s all I ask. The universe is conspirin’ against me.”

Your breath hitched at being called his girlfriend, and smiled shyly. “No matter how late it is tonight,” you decided then and there, “I want you to come knock my door.”

“Yeah?” He sounded so hopeful, it warmed your heart.

“Yeah. Knock on my door, Beau.”

“And what will I get when I do?”

“The best kiss this side of the Mississippi,” you offered, pulling into your driveway.

“Now that, darlin’, will make putting up with this insanity worth it,” he declared. “Best prepare those lips of yours. I’m claimin’ them tonight.”

You grinned. “I look forward to it.”

“I gotta go, darlin’, but…” He paused and you wondered at the hesitation. “I’ll see ya tonight.”

—

It was supposed to be a quiet night. Some tea, maybe a book to read. A chance to spend a minute with Beau. Everything positively domestic, peaceful, something you needed after the weeks of heightened anxiety and the mess with Mark. Instead, you got a call.

From Emily.

Seeing her name pop up on the Caller ID surprised you. For a moment, you couldn’t recall why she’d be bothering you late on a Friday evening. Then you remembered it, her visit to your office.

“Hello,” you answered.

The sudden crash of sobbing and a partially hysterical Emily was not what you expected.

“Emily?” You sat up straighter in your easy chair. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“C-can you come get me?” she asked, hiccuping as she swallowed air to calm herself down.

Dread flooded your being. What if she’d been—You couldn’t even finish that thought out of dread. “Of course I can,” you said instantly. “Where are you?”

She rattled off an address. “I… I got into a fight with Tyler,” she said sobbing. “I’m at the gas station. He refused to take me home.”

Anger boiled in your belly. Tyler was definitely rapidly going down the list of men you disliked. “I’ll be right there,” you said firmly, getting out of your easy chair. “Just hold on, okay?”

“Okay,” she said, sniffling in the background.

You hung up and quickly grabbed your winter boots and coat. You barely paused to snatch up your car keys and headed out the door, the sound of her crying echoing in your mind. You should call Beau, you knew that, but he was busy and Emily… she needed a friend more than a parent.

It took you longer than you liked to get to the gas station due to the black ice. Your car barely crawled across the ice and you didn’t want to be added to the list of people needing help. When you got there, you saw her outside, eyes red-rimmed and puffy. At first glance she looked okay, but you had to make sure.

“Emily,” you said, getting out of the car.

She let out a sob and nearly bowled you over in a desperate hug. “I’m so sorry, I just didn’t know who else to call and if I told my dad he’d kill Tyler and—”

“It’s okay,” you said soothingly, cutting her off. You wrapped your arms around her and rubbed her back. “Just tell me: are you okay? He didn’t… he didn’t force himself or anything?”

“No,” she said with a firm shake of her head. You felt the knot of fear in you loosen. Thank God. It would not have been a conversation you’d want with Beau. “He just…. C-can we talk about it in your car?”

“Of course. Come on, honey,” you said gently, leading her to the car. Once she was in the passenger seat, you went to the driver’s side and sat down. You turned on the car for the heat, and faced her. “What happened?”

Emily sniffled, wiped her eyes. “We… we were at this party. He took me to one of the rooms, locked the door, and was all ‘I’m so glad you decided to do this, baby’,” she said in an approximate male voice, then screwed her face in disgust. “I actually felt like he… like…” She made a sound of frustration.

“Like you were a prize to claim?” you suggested, watching her.

“Yeah! It was like that! I felt so gross. I told him I changed my mind and he… he was mad, asking if I didn’t love him, and—and I just told him I wanted to go home,” she said, the distress leaving and anger took its place. “He said that because I wasn’t going to be a loving girlfriend that I should just leave. So I said fine! I’ll leave!”

You smiled, feeling a spark of pride for her. “That was very brave of you.”

“I just… y-you said that it should feel right. And it didn’t.” Emily looked at you beseechingly, seeking reassurance.

“Hey… if you weren’t ready, you weren’t ready. I’m not the one who gets to decide that, Emily, you are. Not Tyler, you.” You placed a hand on her shoulder and gave her a reassuring squeeze. “That Tyler didn’t respect that is unfortunate. But you did the right thing by leaving and calling someone.”

She swallowed hard and rubbed her face. “I don’t know what to do, Y/N.”

“Tell you what… why don’t I take you back home with me, get you some tea, and then I can take you home?”

“Yeah…. Yeah, please?”

You nodded, started the car, and drove her back to your home. She rode the way quietly, calming down. At one point she looked at her phone, rolled her eyes, and turned it off. She said nothing, and you decided not to press the point.

However, when you got home, you saw Beau’s truck. He was outside your door and turned when he heard you pull into your driveway. “Darlin’, hey, there you—Emily?”

Beau froze at seeing his daughter come out of your car. He glanced at you, then at her, more than a little confused and uncertain. “Em, everythin’ all right?”

“Hey dad. Yeah, I’m okay,” she said. She was quite the sight, red-rimmed eyes and puffy.

He frowned and walked over to her. He put one hand on her shoulder and pulled her into a hug. “I’m here for you, honey,” he murmured.

Your heart ached at seeing the worry on Beau’s face. Maybe you should’ve made her call Beau, but you wanted her settled and feeling safe first. This kind of conversation would be a difficult one at any age, for any parent or child.

Beau gently pulled Emily away, and you heard them speaking in low, indistinct voices. You stood there, uncertain, and decided to just wait. Yes, it was cold, but you’d be okay. Right now, Beau having this conversation with Emily was more important. He was important to you, and by extension, so was Emily.

“He what?!”

You looked up, saw the fury on Beau’s face. Emily was desperately trying to calm him down.

“That son of a bitch—”

“Dad, stop!” Emily grabbed a hold of Beau’s arm.

“Beau,” you said his name gently. “Listen to your daughter.”

He closed his eyes, and mustered up his composure, his calm. He took a few breaths, let them out slow, misting in the cold air. “You’re right, darlin’.” He turned back to Emily, gave her a weak smile. “I’m sorry, Em. Just… God, I’m sorry ya went through that.”

Beau pulled his daughter into another hug, planted his lips in her hair. “I just want to protect ya, honey. I know there are some bad people out there.”

“I know, dad,” she said, clinging to him for a long moment. It broke your heart at how tender the sight was before you. “But… nothing bad happened. I left, I called Y/N….”

“Em, why didn’t you call me? Or your mom?” Beau asked, his puzzlement clear.

“I just…” Emily looked down and mumbled, “I was afraid you would get mad.”

“God, no, Emily, never,” Beau insisted, pulled her into another hug. “Mad at him, God yes. But never you. I promise, never you.”

Emily burrowed into her father’s arms, clung to him. You watched, absurdly feeling like an outsider in a family moment. Maybe Beau picked up on that, because he glanced over at you, and fixed an intense look of adoration on you.

“Thank you, darlin’,” he said quietly. “Thank you for being there for my Em.”

You smiled slowly, warmth blooming in your heart. “You’re welcome, Beau.”

He took Emily into his truck, planning to take her back to Carla’s home before he headed home. Once she was settled in the passenger seat, he came right over to you. Without a word, he pulled you into a passionate kiss that took you by surprise. Then you let out a soft sigh and melted, returning the kiss with fervor. He lingered, savoring the moment, cherishing you. When he finally broke the kiss, he rested his forehead against yours.

“So much for neckin’,” he whispered to you with a smile.

You let out a small laugh, your heart racing. “That’s okay. Maybe tomorrow.”

He met your gaze, pulled back enough to brush his hand across your cheek. Something flickered in his eyes and your breath hitched, wondering what it could have been. “Tomorrow, darlin’. Maybe lunch?”

You smiled, leaning into his touch. “Absolutely.”

He kissed you again, a quick peck this time. “Good night, darlin’.”

You watched them pull out from the curb. Emily waved at you from the passenger window, and you waved back with a smile. It made your heart ache to watch Beau leave. How did he become so wrapped up in your life that just him leaving made you miss him that much?

He called you his girlfriend. The thought still made your heart flip and swell. He was just so… you couldn’t even find the words. You smiled to yourself; the first throes of a relationship were always jittery, exciting, and full of energy that made you bounce everywhere. You definitely couldn’t get enough of him. It was different now than it was when you just went over to sleep outside his trailer.

You took a deep breath and went back inside your warm home, your heart full, even as you missed him. Just as the door shut and locked behind you, your cellphone pinged with a text message. Curious, you looked and your smile widened.

It was from Beau.

It read: I miss you already.

Tag List: @spxideyver, @deadlymistletoe, @bitchykittenconnoisseur, @aarpfashionvictim, @stoneyggirl2, @foxyjwls007

#come find me #beau arlen #big sky #jensen ackles #jackles #beau arlen x female reader #beau arlen x f. reader #beau arlen x reader #beau arlen x y/n #beau arlen x you #big sky fanfiction #beau arlen fanfiction #jensen ackles fanfiction #taylor writes #taylor's writing #divider by tsunami of tears

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ashethecoolperson · 1 year ago

Note

OUU WAIT.. can you do a dom x r where essentially they’re both in the judgement day and there tg but hide it cus they think it’ll ruin the dynamic of the group. so like HIDDEN TOUCHES, GLANCES, THE WHOLE SHEBANGHG😫

No One Will Know

A/N: This is like one of my first requests so apologies if it’s bad 😭

Dom is my favorite himbo thooo 💗

Tags: Mentions of sex, kinda sorta allusions to smut but not really, Rhea knows everything, some spanish 🤭

“Where in the hell is he?” You thought to yourself as you walked around backstage. You two had driven to the arena together, and you went to talk to Rhea for a minute, then he was just..gone.

“Dom?” You called out as you neared the dressing room. A chorus of ‘he’s not here’ rang in your ears but you continued on anyway. Dom wouldn’t just up and ditch you like this.

You walked next to a janitor’s closet when suddenly you got pulled in, pinned against the door by him.

“Did I scare you, mami?” He asked as you looked straight up at him, honestly stunned at how close his face was. His hand gently brushed away some hair from your face before moving back down to grip your waist. Your eyes darted between his eyes and lips. He smiled sweetly, but it didn’t make the butterflies in your stomach settle. He really wanted to kiss you, and you couldn’t help but wonder what this little surprise even was.

“Why were you just..hiding in the janitor’s closet?” You asked as he started peppering kisses onto your neck, leaving goosebumps all over your skin. You closed your eyes, trying desperately to calm your heartbeat. It only seemed to speed up more whenever he did that.

He finally stopped kissing you and whispered, “Just wanted to surprise you, mami.” He leaned down and pressed a light kiss into your jawline. When his lips met yours it left an overwhelming sensation behind. One that made you want to pull him closer and never let go again. His hands traveled lower on your body until they found their place around the base of your thighs, lifting you up and holding you flush against him.

While you two kissed, you both heard a knock, breaking the kiss as you two looked at each other and contemplated what to do. He smirked, “Maybe we should get going. Wouldn’t want anyone to think we snuck off or anything.” You blushed as he slowly placed you back on your feet. He reached forward to grab your hand and you intertwined your fingers with his.

The rest of the evening passed by pretty quickly, then RAW started and both you and Dom were hanging out in The Judgment Day clubhouse, waiting for your segment to start.

Dom was currently on his phone while he occasionally shot glances at you. You were looking through your Instagram feed, reading the posts about Dom’s match today.

You always enjoyed getting to see what fans were thinking of your boyfriend, your Dom. It made you feel special.

Your thoughts were interrupted by him putting an arm around your waist, pulling you into his side. You looked up at him with a raised eyebrow and a smile. He returned it with a smirk of his own before he spoke, “You know how I always get sweaty after my matches?”

You nodded slowly, “Yeah…”

“Well, I could use a shower tonight so…want to join me?” He mumbled so only you could hear and gave you another smirk that made your knees weak.

You tried to play it cool as you tried comprehending what he said and why the fuck he sounded so hot saying it, before he just smirked and whispered, “Piénsalo, mami.” Before walking off.

He turned to look over his shoulder at you with one final wink before disappearing from sight.

What the fuck just happened? You thought to yourself as your mind raced to catch up with everything Dom said. You knew Dom had a dirty streak. He definitely liked to tease people, and you knew that he did that because he liked seeing them blush.

While lost in your own thoughts, Rhea approached you and tapped you on the shoulder, almost towering over you because of those big ass platform boots she always wore.

“What’d Dom say?” She asked, snapping you out of your thoughts as she looked at you expectantly. You blinked a couple times before answering. “Oh y’know, just shit about how he’d win and all that.” You lied, and Rhea raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Uh yeah. Why?” You felt stupid for lying to her. She was your best friend, sure, but that didn’t mean you could tell her everything.

“No reason, just wondering why I heard stuff in you two’s dressing room last week.” She said with a shrug, and you immediately blushed and scrambled for a reply, knowing damn well what you two were doing. After you caught your breath, you said, “Oh, uh he was just talking to me about some stuff, you know, personal stuff.” You lied, (again), and Rhea nodded with a scoff.

“Personal stuff? So why was he saying ‘oh fuck, right there mami’?” Rhea asked again, sporting a smirk as your face was flushed. She heard?! Well, shit.

“Don’t worry,” She laughed as if she sensed your panic, “I won’t tell anybody.” You let out a sigh and relaxed a bit, smiling at her. “Thanks..” You trailed off, still unsure of what else you could say without being too obvious about how embarrassing this even was.

“No problem. But don’t fuck in my dressing room, please. I like having a clean room.” You chuckled nervously and nodded, thanking her before walking towards the monitors to watch Dom’s match.

While he was doing pretty good (still paired with that fucking bobblehead, you hated that guy) he kept doing moves that made you wince or go ‘damn’, knowing full well that he’d be okay.

Obviously they lost because of JD, but Dom didn’t care as he just went over towards you, smiling as he looked down at you.

“Did I do good?” He asked, his smirk growing wider.

“Yeah, but you keep scaring me with those big ass flying moves. You’re gonna bust your face open one day cause of that.” You said as you crossed your arms, and he pouted like a child before rolling his eyes.

There was a beat of silence before you smirked, looking at him as you fiddled with those shirts he wore around his waist.

“Hey, Dom?”

“Yeah?”

“I think I’m ready for that shower now..”

#dominik mysterio #wwe #dominik mysterio x reader #the judgement day wwe #wwe judgement day

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mooonjin · 2 years ago

Text

A Little Needy

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x f!reader

Warnings/Tags: 18+ work!! minors shoo flyyyyyyy - piv (wear protection cus they didnt), losing v-card mentions, no y/n mentions, implied f!reader but i dont use pronouns (i think), sub!Miguel, fantasy talk, cowgirl position, lowkey a short drabble sorry <3 ⁠— tell me if I've missed anything!

"Tell me, have you ever fantasised about me?" You asked Miguel.

His breath became ragged and laboured, each inhale was a desperate attempt to try answer you. The rhythmic pounding of your hips as you came up and down drowned out any last thoughts.

You simply watched him, his chest tightened and his gasps of air grew more intense at the sensation of your tight cunt. He was struggling to keep up with your pace despite laying there for you.

"Answer me." You mentioned once more. However, you smirked, enjoying this affect you had on him. A sheen of sweat formed on his forehead and he inhaled, finally being able to answer.

"Um y-yes.. I have." He finally whimpers out, sounding a little embarrassed. This was his first time, of course he was. He'd never ever think in his life he was here, probably about to share what he imagined with you.

You smirk, "What have you thought about?" The pace of yours hips continue to catch him off guard, he nearly forgot you were even talking to him.

He moaned out, "I've thought... I've thought about us d-doing, hngh, a lot of.. things-" He scrunched his eyes shut at the feeling of your warm cunt.

You couldn't help but smirk again. You knew an exact answer wasn't going to escape him, after all, you seemed to have completely invaded his mind, "Like?"

Miguel gulps, grunting every time your hips met his pelvis, "L-Like.. the stuff you'd expect, ungh, people to-to fantasise about." He slid his hands to your thighs, savouring your soft skin.

Ah, he was going to play this game. To tease him, you slowed your movements, watching as his neck craned up to wonder why you stopped.

"I want to hear it from you." Your cunt was gently clenching around his cock, making him gulp every more and then. You gently rocked back and forth, letting out soft exhales from the feeling of being filled.

"Oh- okay," Miguel looks up at you, his eyes wandering over your figure and mainly the bra you had on, "I uh, imagine you.. on top of me." He groaned, your warm cunt keeping his cock snug.

"Mhm?"

"And you making noises... your heavenly sounds of you enjoying yourself." He bites his lips, already imagining it himself. He sits up, pressing soft kisses to your collarbone and tries to pump his cock in and it of you again.

"Yeah?" You taunt, pushing his hips down, keeping him still.

He seemed more nervous now with his words, "Can you please move, I can't take it..."

"Not until you tell me your fantasies." You smirk.

He lets out a frustrated sigh, his cock pulsating inside you desperately. You slowly started to bring yourself up the length of his cock to tease him and let out a choked whimper in response.

You pitied him as you slammed your hips back down onto his, causing his eyes to shoot open and strained moan to escape his throat. He felt like his lungs were suddenly punctured.

He groaned with a mix of pain and pleasure.

With your beautiful figure straddling him, Miguel swallows lightly, his face turning red. He was too needy, his hands making their way to your hips to hold you in place. His hands gently fondled your plush. Miguel wants to thrust his cock in and out of you but you wouldn't let him.

He didn't imagine being the submissive one when he planned on losing his v-card.

But he'd be submissive for you.

Only for you.

Post-Notes: what a suprise that the first miguel thingy i put iut is smut!!!!! also my requests are opne now as well as an updated taglist form! :D

~ ~ ~

my taglist form!

#marvel #miguel o hara #spiderman #spiderman 2099 #miguel #miguel x reader #miguel o hara x reader #miguel o hara smut #atsv miguel #astv #2099 #sub!miguel o’hara #happy reading!!!#SUB MIGUEL #mooonjin #drabble

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guusagi · 9 months ago

Text

MCR Fanfic Rec/Review List!

tl/dr: This is an MCR slash fiction recommendation list with various ratings, multiple ships, AUs and sections; not only with summaries but also my non-spoilery thoughts. I'm going to be yapping a lot in this one. MINORS DNI (as in i cant stop you from reading these but no comments plz🙏) Section 1: Danger Days / Fabulous Killjoys Section 2: The Infamous Fics (for example: Unholyverse) Section 3: Desolation Row Section 4: Various MCR AUs Pairings listed: Frank/Gerard; Fun Ghoul/Party Poison; Jet Star/Party Poison; Jet Star/Party Poison/Fun Ghoul; Frank/Mikey; Pete/Patrick (from FOB)

Welcome and be warned (or enjoy), this is a pretty long and wordy list! I've been actively reading mcr fics for about a month and a half now, so I felt compelled to do something with all this energy. The idea for this blog post came to me because I had to share my newfound knowledge!!

Part 2: https://www.tumblr.com/guusagi/766055506866569216/mcr-fanfic-recreview-list-2

If you can't stand RPF (real person fiction), feel free to just browse the Danger Days section, as I personally think it's disconnected enough from the band to be enjoyable. I was uncomfortable with rpf at first but I ended up loving these fics so much I stopped caring lol! I will still mention how much real life is involved in each fic so there are more options with different levels of comfort for you.

The most common ship on this list will be Frerard, because not only it's the easiest to find, but also cus a lot of amazing fics are written about these two! I also included some Frikey, cus it's underrated in my eyes and so good! I also found some Rayrard and poly ships yay!

I will start with some Danger Days fics cus that's how I started reading MCR fandom fics, and I LOVE the setting of this album and the Killjoys comic series! Party Poison/Fun Ghoul is the main ship, but you’ll also find Party Poison/Jet Star! There's also a poly ship (Party Poison/Fun Ghoul/Jet Star).

I decided to also yap about the most infamous fics in the fandom, like Unholyverse and A Splitting of the Mind (plus a 3rd one). I was skeptical at first, but what a ride it was reading these fics!

I also included a few Desolation Row AUs cus there's not tons but I ADORE the music video and it makes for an interesting punk/rebellion theme.

And finally, I’ll highlight some other general AUs, as well as a few MCR as a band fics for those who enjoy rpf in particular. This is my longest section.

Please feel free to explore the full tags on AO3, as some fics might have stuff that's triggering to some. If you want to avoid smut I will specifically mention if there is any, sometimes we just want cute fluff! I also will mention if there's something iffy like an age gap, or non-con, I personally do not go out of my way to read either, but there are 2 fics on this list that include those.

Also I love longfics so this is gonna have a lot of stories with around or over 100k words.

The structure of each fic rec is as follows:

-Name of the fic, and the author. -Rating and if the fic includes smut. -The main pairing, as well as sub pairings if relevant to the story, also what type of AU it is. -Main POV, who’s the main character of the story! -Are the characters MCR? If the fic is written with mychem as a band similar to real life (also if it follows their trajectory in life, like their wives and kids, or if it’s an AU where those relationships don’t happen), or if they use the same irl names but are not in a band like an AU. In the case of the killjoys, if their ‘city names’ are the same as mcr or not. -Status is if they are completed fics, works in progress, or abandoned/on hiatus. I also added amount of chapters and word count, and if it's a oneshot or otherwise. -Links will send you directly to the fic on AO3, if it’s a collection of stories I link that instead. -My summaries are just what I personally thought was the main plot of the story. -Personal thoughts are my observations on the fic, how much I enjoyed it, what I found unique about this story, and my feelings overall. I also will specifically mention if the fic has a happy or angsty ending, for those who either enjoy or don’t enjoy sad endings. I love happy endings but I did give some sad endings a try, even if I don't go out of my way looking for them.

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Section 1: Danger Days AUs

This is how I got started with MCR fanfiction. I wanted to read fics about mcr and was uncomfortable with rpf at first (like I mentioned before, I got over the discomfort cus I ended up loving the non-DD fics as well). Danger Days is a super fun universe, and I really enjoy the idea of the Killjoys. I hope I picked a good variety of options!

Don't Need the System by LiberXI

Rating: Explicit (smut in final chapter) Pairing: Frerard - Party Poison/Fun Ghoul Main POV: Fun Ghoul Are the characters MCR?: No, but they use the same irl names. Status: Completed, total of 25 chapters and 144k words Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55799308 My Summary: This is a Party Poison origin story! Fun Ghoul gets captured by Bl/ind to reintegrate him into Battery City's society. Little does he know, the supervisor he's been assigned to is none other than Gerard, the face of Bl/ind's Propaganda! Gerard doesn't really know how human interaction works and shenanigans ensue. Personal Thoughts: This is actually quite the unique spin on the danger days formula compared to most I've read, where Party Poison is not yet themself but being an active part of the System! Gerard uses he/him pronouns throughout half of the fic, then they switch to they/them. Korse is sort of their guardian and grants them privileges most don't get. For example having a lot of luxuries, as well as being off pills. They are still mostly controlled and very naive about the world. Most of the fic takes place within Gerard's apartment, as Fun Ghoul is not allowed to leave. The writing is super compelling and you can't help but read the next chapter as soon as you finish the previous one! The relationship between Gee and Ghoul starts off on the wrong foot but it's honestly super cute after that. I'm still actively reading this one, so once this story is complete I’ll attach an updated review.

Edit 10/23/24: So the fanfic JUST ended! I read the final chapter today and man, yep, there was smut alright! There's only smut in the final chapter, so you're safe if you want to avoid those types of scenes (also I want to warn that there is usage of the f-slur in one portion of the final chapter, but it's used with consent). My thoughts on the story have not changed, I still love it to bits!! I'm sad that it's already over but that's life for you haha, all things come to an end. If you are iffy about reading WIP fics, now you can totally read this one start to finish!

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I Believe We're the Enemy by Test_subject_306

Rating: Mature (no smut) Pairing: Party Poison/Fun Ghoul Main POV: Fun Ghoul Are they MCR?: No, only Frank is mentioned by his real name. Status: Completed, 39 chapters and 104k words. Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8097178 My Summary: Party Poison gets captured by Korse, and is presumed dead by Fun Ghoul and the others. However, Party returns in an altered state, completely brainwashed. It's up to Ghoul and the others to get the old Party back... will they succeed? Personal Thoughts: Good god, this one was a wild ride! I actually had to take breaks to read a softer/less angsty fic between chapters, cus man this story HURT. Party Poison is brainwashed as all hell, and pretty nasty with the others... A fair warning, I think it's important to mention that this does NOT have a happy ending, but man the ride was so worth it! It's sort of an open-ended conclusion. If you read A Splitting of the Mind, that's how I'd describe the ending's structure.

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Graffiti On Your Grave by Honestmouse (Part 1 of "Sing It Out")

Rating: Teens and Up (implied scenes but no smut.) Pairings: Party Poison/Fun Ghoul & Jet Star/Kobra Kid Main POV: Various! Are they MCR?: No, they use unique names. Status: WIP; 3 out of 4 parts have been completed so far, with a 4th one in the works. As of 09/16/2024 there has been a collective total of 64 chapters and 269k words. Link: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1909105 My Summary: Post-SING music video, our Killjoys are near death when they get rescued by an underground resistance in Battery City. This story takes place after The Girl is safely secured. They navigate their new home, and meet many new people, most notably The Youngbloods. Personal Thoughts: The world-building in this one was awesome! A new place to navigate, a lot of characters to meet, and overall a compelling story! I was pleasantly surprised that our killjoys had their own original names and not just the usual MCR band member's names. This really helped with keeping the immersion, especially if you enjoy Danger Days fanfics cus of the ease of separation. This is also only part 1 of a series called Sing It Out, and I'm not done with reading the others yet!

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Tongue Tied, In Distress by tired_stressed

Rating: Not Rated (there's only implied sexual content, aka ‘fades to black b4 they bang’ kinda deal, so I’d personally say teens and up) Pairing: Fun Ghoul/Party Poison/Jet Star (yep, it’s poly over here!) Main POV: Fun Ghoul Are they MCR?: No, and only their killjoy names are used. Status: Unfinished with no updates since 2023, 31 chapters and 152k words. Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/41650503 My Summary: Fun Ghoul and Jet Star reconnect after losing each other as kids. Ghoul also HATES those from Battery City, which is ironic because it was thanks to Party Poison and Kobra Kid that he gets to see Jet again. Ghoul has to reluctantly accept a deal between them, and they somehow end up teaming up for longer than he expected. Personal Thoughts: Despite this being an unfinished/maybe abandoned story, I still wanted to recommend it! I honestly really enjoyed the writing, and how much Ghoul HATED Poison's guts at first. This is sort of an enemies to lovers trope for Ghoul and Party, while being a childhood friends to lovers trope for Ghoul and Jet. Also not to mention how it's the only poly relationship I found and read from the fandom so far. I can't delve deeper into it without spoiling so that's all! Plz read it!!

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doesn't have to all be destruction by spelling bee

Rating: Mature (implied sexual content, no smut) Pairing: Party Poison/Jet Star & pre-established Kobra Kid/Fun Ghoul Main POV: Jet Star (for once, poor Ray is never the main character) Are they MCR?: No, they use unique city names. Status: Completed, 26 chapters and 156k words. Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17909432 My Summary: In this universe, people can manifest superpowers! Bl/ind wants to find them all and train them to work for the government, but Poison and Kobra manage to escape without their powers being revealed. Fun Ghoul has been abandoned in the desert since he was young, and Jet Star is an agent for Bl/ind, although reluctantly. Poison, Kobra and Ghoul team up as teenagers, and when Poison gets captured for conversion, Jet Star helps them escape, and decides to join them. It's up to Jet to figure out how to live in the desert, and perhaps become a killjoy himself. He also needs to learn how to control his strange superpower... Personal Thoughts: This fic was recommended to me by a fellow mcrmy friend! I really enjoyed the plot, not to mention the fact that it has some rareships imo! It’s so refreshing to have the protagonist be Jet Star/Ray for a change! Party Poison/Jet Star is really not explored very often, and what a shame cus with Poison's sass and energy, and Jet's kindness and..grounded..ness, it makes for a nice dynamic where they compliment each other very well! Fun Ghoul/Kobra Kid is already an established relationship, which is a nice change of pace, though I sort of felt disappointed that we only got a bit of backstory on how they got together cus, they're so stinkin cute (and later I came to learn that I just love frikey..)! Also the sexual content is only implied, so you're safe if you don't want to read smut.

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Overall Thoughts on this Section:

And that wraps up my Danger Days AUs, there are MORE I've read/completed, but I wanted to highlight the ones I thought were either unique, and/or have very decent writing. Danger Days and the Killjoys make for an excellent background for fiction, and many people have created self-inserts and OCs. There's probably plenty of original killjoy character fics that I haven't found yet.

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Section 2: THE BIG THREE!

I wanted this next section to focus on three very (in)famous fanfics from the MCR fandom. I started reading Unholyverse sorta ironically, expecting a My Immortal moment, but I was super pleasantly surprised! After finishing that series, I decided to read the other two and man I'm glad I did. So yeah, whatever I say here may be nothing new but I wanted to share my thoughts on them!

So, without further ado..!

Unholyverse by Bexless

Rating: Mature (lotsa blood, especially in Part 1, there's eventual smut at part 3 i think? i forgor...) Pairing: Frerard - Priest!Gerard/Body Piercer!Frank (with sub-pairing Mikey/Ray) Main POV: Frank Are they MCR?: No, they use MCR's irl names but this is an AU with no relation to the band. Status: Completed, 5 parts total and 186k words. Link: Republished on AO3 by bexless, separated by the main parts (full collection: https://archiveofourown.org/series/9795) My Summary: Frank works in a tattoo shop as a body piercer, training under Bob (Bryar) to become a tattoo artist. Mikey works as their receptionist, and Brian is the owner of the shop. Ray is sort of a hair stylist and makes herbal concoctions I guess?? Frank's world turns upside down, when he gets himself a mysterious tattoo one night from a stranger that is itching him badly...suddenly he's bleeding all over?? He also meets Gerard, Mikey's brother, who's hot and also a priest, oops! I guess they also have to travel together and vanquish demons as a team?! (If you know of the movie Stigmata, this is basically the plot of that movie apparently? I didn't watch it myself) Personal Thoughts: I have a lot to say about this one. Due to the nature of Gerard's job as a priest, this story has MANY discussions about religion, specifically Catholicism. If you aren't comfortable with that, I understand if you skip. My personal relationship with religion is that my family is Catholic, but my parents are non-practicing so the most we've done was attend Church for weddings and Easter? I also went through Communion. I personally do not identify with the Catholic faith, but I still managed to enjoy this fic a lot and was glad I gave it a chance. It's really hard to find where to begin with this one, cus honestly... this was one of the best fanfictions I have ever read, period! Which is shocking to me cus when there's a famous fic in a fandom, it's usually because it's like, My Immortal or something (aka so bad it's good). Rarely have I seen popular fics with genuinely high quality writing. This could also be cus I do not interact with fandoms much and have always kept my distance? The writing was genuinely clever and quick-witted, as well as super compelling. I'm a fairly calm reader and don’t often react out loud to things I read, but I found myself cry-laughing at many parts of Unholyverse. Maybe it's cus it took itself a little bit more seriously due to the era it was written in, and it could be seen as cheesy by today's standards. I also just think the writer is very good at writing funny dialogue, maybe it wasn’t taking itself that seriously after all (idk im neurodivergent lmao). The characters feel so believable, and I found myself seeing them as completely original characters pretty quickly. The relationship between Frank and Gerard is SO slowburn it hurts, but it hurts so good! The tension and pining is crazy, and I wish I could say more but I don't want to spoil!! I want to revisit this fic again soon, in fact I'm itching to re-read it now! This story is so good I wish for it to be published one day with changed names to make it original. Also, Fall Out Boy is in this fic LOL!

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A Splitting of the Mind by Shoved2agree

Rating: Explicit (smut mostly at the end, this is a mental institution AU so fair warning) Pairing: Frerard Main POV: Gerard Are they MCR?: No, they use their irl names but no relation to the band. Status: Completed, 21 chapters and 144k words. Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/535958 My Summary: We follow Gerard, a mental institution patient, who believes he's the only normal one there. Gerard believes there is a group of people who want to kill him, so he has selective mutism to keep “them” from finding him. There he meets Frank, a new addition to the ward, and instantly feels a connection with him he's never felt with another person before. The story is very psychological so be warned. It's not a fluffy story at all, and doesn't have a happy ending, but it's at the very least a hopeful one! Personal Thoughts: What isn't there to say about this one..? It's also in my top list of fanfiction in general. It's a truly well-written story, you think you start to understand how Gerard's mind works, and then you don't. It's not a spoiler to say that he suffers from Schizophrenia, he's just completely unaware of it, or in denial it's hard to say. The way his inner thoughts are described are very compelling, I personally do not know anyone who suffers from this condition, nor do I know much about how it works, so I will not judge which part of the portrayal was good or bad, but at the very least it didn't seem offensive and it seemed to be respectful. I actually got super immersed in his thought process and I couldn't tell what was real and what wasn't at times, just like him. I can at least say that it didn't feel like it was glorified at all. Frank's reason for his admission to the institution is also super heartbreaking and raw. Overall this story was definitely not a happy one, but I truly enjoyed this fic, the ending was just, god my heart😭... one of the best written scenes in fiction, not even kidding. I highly recommend you read this if you can stomach a sad yet hopeful ending.

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The Anatomy of a Fall by novembersmith

Rating: Explicit (smut near the end of the fic, this is a high school AU and there’s an age gap (kind of, not really, can't say without spoiling) but Gerard is 18 from my understanding.) Pairing: Frerard Main POV: Gerard Are they MCR?: No, but they use the same names though. Status: Completed, 12 chapters and 107k words. Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/155168 My summary: Gerard moves to a quiet town in the middle of nowhere with his mom and little brother Mikey. Imagine a sort of Forks in Twilight kind of gloomy and mysterious atmosphere. Gerard goes into the woods one day and meets a strange boy called Frank. He doesn't seem to go to their school despite being his age, or at least, he hasn't bumped into him yet. This boy is super cool but really mysterious, they become close friends quickly and hang out together after school in the forest. There are also a lot of strange acts of violence happening in this town, and Frank wants to find out what is going on in this weird small town. Personal Thoughts: There's a twist that's hinted at super early and kind of obvious, this is a ghost story after all, but it doesn't ruin the experience at all. Gerard takes longer to realize what Frank's deal is than the reader but it's totally the point! This story was another great one from the line-up, and it DOES have a happy ending, yay! I really enjoyed the relationship between Gerard and Frank, the progression felt natural, and the mystery is great and has an excellent payoff methinks. The world building in this one was really good as well, I could totally picture this little town. Also, it comes with ''official'' art!

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Overall thoughts on this section:

I started off reading Unholyverse, assuming it was the most popular fic because it was similar to My Immortal in infamy. However, that could be further from the truth! Without repeating myself too much like in the review, it was super well written and compelling and I fell in love with this story! I also loved the other two I read. If I had to ''rank'' the fics to my personal preferences it would be something like Unholyverse > A Splitting of the Mind = Anatomy of a Fall. If you have been hesitant with reading these famous fics like I was, please give them a chance! I do have to admit, I deliberately ignored “A Dove Keeper” due to its severe age gap. Let’s pretend there’s just 3 infamous fics ok??

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Section 3: Desolation Row AUs

I wanted to give the AUs based on the Desolation Row cover/music video some love! They are few and far between, which is a shame. This MV altered my brain chemistry not gonna lie, it was one of the best looks for the band imo. These fics are mostly oneshots, but on the lengthier side!

Truth on the Airwaves by stoplightglow

Rating: Mature (implied sexual content, no smut) Pairing: Frerard Main POV: Gerard, but it switches out of his POV often. Are they MCR?: Despite it being an AU, i’d say yes. They call themselves My Chemical Romance and sing their songs. Status: Completed, Oneshot with 34k words. Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15704250 My Summary: This is a prequel to the Desolation Row music video, it also includes a ‘what happens after’ epilogue. Gerard is an office worker in a boring job, but the government is censoring the world more and more, they even banned booze and fun apparently! Gerard and company decide it’s time to take matters into their punk rock hands. This is an AU where MCR become a band to protest against censorship and illegally tour to spread hope and rebellion. With the help of a radio host, they spread their illegal music to the masses. They call themselves My Chemical Romance and create the Bullets album and more! Follow their shenanigans and see what happens :D Personal thoughts: This was the first desolation row fic I read, and man was it fun! This fic is transparent about the members being MCR, but it’s still an AU. The writing is super fun, Gerard is confused about how he feels about Frank throughout the fic in the cutest way possible. I love it! I also like the fact that they included what happens after they get arrested in the music video. It’s a happy ending yay!

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Heaven's Not About Your Reputation by impertinence

Rating: Mature (some smut) Pairing: Frerard Main POV: Gerard mostly. Are they MCR?: Pretty much yes! Still AU though. Status: Completed, oneshot with 28k words. (this might actually be one of the oldest fics on this list, from 2009) Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27280 My Summary: This is a collection of scenes with Gerard and the gang touring with their music, rebelling against the government and overall pissing off the cops. Gerard and Frank got some shit going on, after kissing each other to prove a point on stage, they’re confused about what this all means. Personal Thoughts: Not too much to say about this one, the writing is very good and is the main reason I recommend it. The scenes of their shenanigans are super entertaining too, lots of bickering and banter in this one! It’s quite short (for my standards) but definitely worth a read!

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Overall thoughts on this section:

There aren’t many fics here, as truthfully there isn’t too much to work with in Desolation Row, but the ones that I did read were pretty great! My personal headcanon is that this AU takes place before the apocalypse in Danger Days, as the government is starting to get super involved with people’s freedom of speech but isn’t completely controlling everyone just yet. I wanted to put this section before the other AUs, so that we can give our Desolation Row AUs some extra attention!

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Section 4: Various MCR AUs

Finally, I’ll be highlighting some other MCR AUs that don’t fit in a specific section. I’ll add an extra description for each one; like high school, or college, other jobs, childhood friends, enemies to lovers ect. This is also the section with the most recommendations so buckle in!

I'll start with some "MCR working at a store" AUs!

"that was easy" by metaleaterz aka The Staples Fic

Rating: Explicit (smut included) Pairing: Frerard & background Ray/Mikey Main POV: Frank Are they MCR?: No, they have their own separate paths in life. Status: Completed with 14 chapters and 88k words. Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25903483 My Summary: Frank is in college and running out of money fast, Mikey tells him to apply to Staples and work there with him, Ray and Gerard. Brian is their manager too! Frank and Gerard's relationship blossoms from there and shenanigans ensue. This story was based on a tweet Frank posted about working at Staples one time, but just being high and not actually working much LOL. Personal Thoughts: This is actually another very popular fic, and was written in 2020! Most of the popular fics I've read were written before mcr's break up, so it was a pleasant surprise! This story was honestly super funny, the Staples setting is iconic asf, but the romance in this one was also extra cute and it was super satisfying when they finally get together hehe! I highly recommend this one, it also has excellent writing.

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Emotional Brilliance by kopperblaze

Rating: Mature (no smut) Pairing: Frikey (Frank/Mikey) & some poly?Lindsey/Ray/Gerard Main POV: Mikey (for once lmao) Are they MCR?: Nah, but Frank is part of a band and so is Ray. Status: Completed, Oneshot with 20k words. Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/501146 My Summary: Mikey loves working at Lush, he really does. Despite his music career not working out for him, he loves working there with Ray. Unfortunately, Frank, who used to bully Gerard in high school, gets hired to work with them. Mikey hates his guts, but Frank is much more friendly than at school, maybe people do change..? Personal Thoughts: Finally some Frikey! (Hope the ship name is correct lol) No for real, I love frerard like everyone else, but frank/mikey is a close second. I'd like the ship even more if there were MORE FICS about them!! This one was pretty cute, and Mikey's hatred of Frank is super funny to me, because he really doesn't have a reason anymore, does he? Lush is also another funny setting, I can't imagine how they can stand the fruity smell in that store, it's so overpowering I never stepped into it much. This one was short but it felt complete! Anyways please give this one a try we need more frikey appreciation in this house!!!

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We Used To Be Friends by ladyfoxxx

Rating: Explicit (smut included near the climax/end) Pairing: Frikey; bassist!Mikey x School Teacher!Frank Main POV: Frank Are they MCR?: No, Mikey is a bassist for The Used and Frank is a school teacher. Status: Completed, Oneshot with 50k words. Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/458760 My Summary: Frank used to be a part of a band before it split and ultimately ended his music career. Mikey managed to join The Used as their bassist, but Frank had not been contacted by him in years. Frank has since become a high school teacher, and one day Gerard finds a way to make the two reconnect! Mikey invites Frank to join them on their tour around Jersey during Spring Break, and he agrees reluctantly. Follow Frank on his tour as he navigates some old feelings and has a taste of what it's like to tour again. Personal Thoughts: Eeeek this was so cuuute! I usually don't read oneshots because I love me a longfic, but 50k words ain't nothing to sneeze at either. Also this fic made me fall in love with the frikey ship, like seriously it's too cute. I like Mikey's aloofness in fanfics, he's so deadpan in an endearing kind of way. I felt bad for Frank being insecure and it hit me a little too close to home cus he was so relatable haha. This is a fun story with some drama, but it ends happily! Honestly this fic will make you love this ship.

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When We're Both Thirty by Helena_Hathaway

Rating: Explicit (smut near the end) Pairing: Frerard (childhood friends, to enemies to lovers) Main POV: Frank Are They MCR?: Nope! Just the same names and a "if MCR wasn't a band" AU. (Gerard works in art for example) Status: Completed, 30 chapters and 84k words. Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2757812 My summary: Gerard and Frank had been inseparable as little kids, they loved each other before they could put a name to it. They sign a contract saying if they don't get married at 30 years old, they will marry each other! Unfortunately they have a falling out and end up hating each other's guts throughout most of their school life, and lost contact after high school. They are both approaching 30... and their moms try to reconnect them once more. However, both Gerard and Frank still hate each other, so they both agree to help find themselves partners to avoid getting married! Personal Thoughts: This was a super fun story, I also devoured this one. It's like, an enemies to lovers too so one of my fave tropes hohoho! I love how supportive their moms were, so much so that they shipped their kids together! The writing was very solid, and these two are total idiots! I love when ppl write this ship as idiots in love, it's just so obvious they have a thing for each other but are holding old petty grudges. Their attraction towards one another, despite trying their darndest to still hate each other, is highly entertaining. I strongly recommend this one! It’s super sweet, funny and the payoff is so worth it!

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Before the Second Show by CharredLips

Rating: Teens and Up (no smut, this is a fluffy one) Pairing: Frerard (Bullets Era) Main POV: Frank Are they MCR?: Yes, but this is an AU where they don’t meet their irl partners. Status: Completed with 18 chapters and 75k words. Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32276128 My Summary: This story is set during the Bullets era, and as the title suggests, it takes place during the very early days of MCR. Frank is the new addition to their band as they start their first tour, cramped van and all. However, he’s starting to have weird feelings about Gerard and is unsure what to do with them. Gerard is also feeling something but Frank is unaware that it's mutual. These two are complete idiots in love! This story also just follows the typical early 2000s band tour shenanigans; sleepless nights, driving all day and all night, eating junk food, getting wasted and smoking cigs, little to no showers etc. what's not to love?! Personal Thoughts: This is the only “true” rpf story on this list, the only difference is that in this AU Gerard and Frank don’t end up with their irl partners. Also this is a teens and up rated fic so you don’t have to worry about smut, perfect if you like the ship but don’t want to see em bang. I gotta say, this fic was SUPER FUCKING CUTE! Their mutual pining, how obviously they like each other and try to be near each other at every waking (and sleeping) moment, this is just so fun and precious. They’re so dumb, omg! I might be biased towards the idiots in love tag. There’s a lot of secretive intimacy (non-sexual) and hiding to do gay stuff together and man it was fun to read. I do wanna say tho Gerard has pretty bad self-esteem issues, and talks down on himself a lot, and it might hit a bit too close to home for some (like me). This one also has the cutest happy ending ever though!! Another banger!

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Did You Miss Me? 'Cus I Missed You by LiberXI

Rating: Explicit (smut with plot) Pairing: Frerard Main POV: Frank Are They MCR?: No, this is a college AU Status: Completed with 3 chapters and 35k words. Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48104839 My Summary: Frank is starting college and is super excited to enjoy the freedom that comes with that. Mikey and Ray go to a college party with Frank, and he bumps into Gerard, who also lives on the same college campus as the others. They used to hang out a lot more back a few years ago, and Frank is super happy to see him again. While chatting it up and having a smoke together, Gerard and Frank realize that they had missed each other much more than they both expected. Personal Thoughts: This is the 2nd fic from LiberXI that I'd like to recommend, but it's also the most explicit I apologize lol. They wrote a lot more fics than I thought and found this little gem after reading the latest chapter of their DD fic (Don't Need The System). This is definitely a self-indulgent fic rec, it's short and sweet, with smut and their relationship is just rly cute and wholesome. So sort of fluffy smut?! IDK I just wanted an excuse to recommend this one here if anyone likes shorter fics, since I put so many long ones on this list lol. I also love this author's writing style a lot.

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The Calypso Initiative by theficisalie

Rating: Explicit ("activities of the alone variety" in some chapters, smut near the end) Pairing: Frerard (small age gap, Frank is 11 and Gerard is 16 when they meet; they don’t hang out much nor pursue each other till they’re both over 21) Main POV: Frank Are They MCR?: Nope this is a superhero/school AU Status: Completed with 20 chapters and 91k words. Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/280176 My Summary: A superhero AU, where ppl with "mutations" are heavily monitored. They have to either work for the government or live in the streets as fugitives. Frank is 9 years old when his family abandons him, he is found by heroes-in-training Mikey and Gerard, and joins them in their school/compound which educates young mutants and teaches them to control their powers. Frank and Gerard's relationship becomes distant after Gerard becomes a part of an official hero team, and doesn't seem to have time for him anymore and is constantly ignoring him. Yet Frank still wants to join their team, will he succeed? Personal Thoughts: I was super hooked by this one! It's honestly a great story and the format is super satisfying. We follow Frank's journey from living with a group of other abandoned mutant children in the city, to learning how to control his unique powers at the compound, and growing into an adult who is ready to fight crime with his best friends (Gee, Mikey and Ray). I will say though, there is a bit of an age gap between Frank and Gee, Frank being the younger one. I feel like what the author did was pretty tame compared to other fics like a dove keeper (which is waaay worse like the age gap is 17/40 ew, sorry.) Gee and Frank are friends when they're younger and drift apart in between, interacting barely until Frank's 25-ish? So it doesn't feel predatory at all in my opinion. That's about as much as I'm willing to spoil, feel free to skip if any sort of age gap makes you uncomfortable!

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Marked like a bloodstain by drunkonyou

Rating: Teens and Up (no smut) Pairing: Frerard, with sub-pairing Rikey Main POV: Frank Are They MCR?: Nope, this is a vampire AU. Status: Completed, 12 chapters and 56k words. Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29563299 My summary: This story is set in modern times (aka youtube, tiktok stuff is mentioned.) Frank and Ray work in a record store, and one day a tall pale man named Mikey asks to get hired for their night shift, and mentions having a brother with a chronic illness. He gets hired right away! One night, Frank goes to a haunted mansion, and there was Dracula working there, scaring guests...and he was really hot?! He comes back another night just to ask him out, and it's the start of something new! Personal Thoughts: Gosh this was a cute one too! I don't particularly seek out vampire stories, but this one also had a unique spin! Gerard and Frank's relationship is more angsty fluff, but it's so good!! I don't want to spoil much else, so that's all I've got to say! This is another one that's safe for the no-smut enjoyers.

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I am not the Phoenix that you wanted by GhostintheBathroom & Xygenscenic

Rating: Explicit (the first chapter has smut, then it cools down for most of the fic with smut sprinkled in more sparsely) Pairings: Patrick/Pete from FOB; Frerard and Ray/Mikey Main POVs: Various Are They MCR?: Yes and so is Fall Out Boy. AU story still! Status: Completed with 18 chapters and 98k words. Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1659725 My Summary: SO this one is unique, it’s actually a Fall Out Boy / MCR / Danger Days crossover. FOB’s Patrick and Pete have an unhealthy relationship; Pete is always on and off with his current girlfriend, while also taking Patrick to his bed. One day, they are taken to the future of California in 2019, where they meet the Killjoys of Danger Days! Time-travel, dimension hopping, fighting hot babes who want to kill them. Courtney Love is somehow involved in all of this as well. This fic is a wild ride from start to finish! Personal Thoughts: This fic isn’t a pure MCR fic, if anything it focuses more on FOB’s Pete and Patrick, which is why I put this as my last fic rec. I still added it to my recommendation list cus it’s honestly one of the craziest, most unique plots I’ve seen in a while. I gave this story a chance despite me not being super familiar with FOB, and glad I did. The plot is absurd but somehow still able to keep its focus, the villains and overall premise are hilarious, and the way they tie together MCR and Danger Days is super unique. Give this story a read if you wanna have a great laugh and go through an emotional rollercoaster as well. The amount of times I laughed or gasped at certain reveals, really got me excited to recommend this one. My summary is super vague cus I don’t want to spoil the absurdity of some plot twists and reveals haha.

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Overall thoughts on this section:

This collection of fics were a super entertaining read. I honestly started out being weirded out by rpf fics of the band, but I quickly was able to suspend my disbelief and enjoy these stories as their own separate thing. AUs save the day once more! It might have helped that MCR as people have changed a lot since then, and they feel like a separate entity from their past selves. I also read so many of these that their irl names don't bother me anymore thanks to exposure therapy lmao!

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That concludes my MCR fic list!

Thank you so so much for reading, this took me a few weeks to work on and I'm so happy to finally be free from my shackles! I am still actively reading new mcr fics, probably until I get super sick of them like I did with ffxiv fics a few months prior. If you read this whole thing you're a trooper. I'm saved. I'm FREE!!

In conclusion: Thank you to the Danger Days album for starting this all; Frerard is an awesome dynamic for slash fiction; Frikey is so cute and underrated but is growing on AO3 from what I've seen; mildly embarrassed to admit I read mcr smut now; I'm cringe and I'm free; I know I'm having my teenager mcr fan phase at age 28 but I don't care! Anyways, enough yapping. Now I rest, thank you again!

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