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abbyshands · 2 months

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for you

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♡ synopsis; making a home out of catalina island for years on end had been wonderful, but for most of it, you had been derived of the last piece of the puzzle: abigail anderson. you were a skilled medic, so when abby had showed up, you had cared for her, and nursed her back to the girl she was, helping her to heal, and to find home the same way you had. now, it’s abby’s chance to return the favor.

♡ pairing; abby anderson x fem!reader

♡ warnings; lot of game references, some of which include infected, the WLF, plot of the first and second game, loss, violence, etc, general angst (ish) in the beginning, but fluffy at the end, i promise, reader loses her dad in the backstory, and there’s a heavily established backstory for the reader, abby uses nicknames (my love, babe, gorgeous), reader calls abby baby, just general angst n’ fluff tbh!

♡ a/n; sooo this idea has been sitting in my notes app for the longest time, and to be honest, i’m not sure how i feel about the finished product! i don’t think it’s my best work? i don’t know. i like the idea but i’m unsure about the way i executed it. maybe i’ll revisit it at some point, but this is what i’ve got for now ♡

anyway ,, this is for my ray, n’ my ray only. happy bday, gorgeous! i genuinely can’t get enough of you, and getting to speak to you on a daily basis is such a fucking privilege to me. i’m so lucky to say you’re a part of my life, n’ i wouldn’t trade you for the world. i hope you like this, @andersonlore <3

♡ wc; 4.5k

divider creds !

YOUR LIPS, MY LIPS. APOCALYPSE.

If someone had told you four years prior that this is where you would be today, you would’ve checked them for a bite mark.

Because they would have been losing their mind.

2034, and all the years beforehand, were years unforgettable. The person you were couldn’t imagine a life that wasn’t the one you had. Infected roamed, and danger lurked. But love prevailed.

And you were lucky to be a part of it.

You were born in Boston, Massachusetts in the 2010’s at an unlucky hour. To an unlucky life. You had lost your mom before you could say your own name, and the only biological family you had ever gotten to know in your life was your dad, who was the reason you were where you were today in the first place.

When you were young, your dad joined a group once asked to by the leader of it, a woman named Marlene. Since then, and for as long as you could remember, this group has been your place to call home.

They called themselves the Fireflies for the very bug they took the name from: Their goal was to spread luminescence in a world full of darkness. Your dad, who was an incredibly skilled medic, was roped into it when you were younger, for that very reason. And because of the group’s dire need for medics at the time, their leader, Marlene, who was an old friend of your dad’s, asked him to join, all but begged him to, really.

Your dad wasn’t one to deny anyone in need. It was in his nature, and it was why he was such a great medic. So, of course, he agreed.

But only if there would be a place for you, too.

Your dad raised you up as a member of the Fireflies, and then later as a medic, and it was because of him that you were who you were: A resilient individual, a survivor, and yet, a person who embodied compassion, just as he did.

The years went by hazily, the older you got, anyway. You became just as immersed into your work as your dad did, bettering your medical knowledge on a daily basis, be it by old books, rusted cassettes, or your dad himself. But all the while, you managed to balance work, love, and family, and, in a world like this one, that was a lot more than most people could say.

For obvious reasons, you couldn’t remember the 2010’s. Then came the 2020’s, which sped by your eyes. But the 2030’s as a general consensus were years ingrained into your brain. Full of friendship, family, and love? At times. But they also encompassed chaos, despair, and pressure, and changed your life forever.

And forever was a long time.

In the year 2033, all that you believed was true about the world as you knew it, crumbled to the ground. In a land following an apocalypse, it wasn’t uncommon to feel as if there was no way out, as if the life you lived had hit a place of no return.

Now, if only there was a way to fix it. A cure, right?

It was late one evening while you were working on somebody in the Fireflies’ medical center, that Marlene came into the room, expression serious, and voice showing for it. Once you had the person you had been caring for under control, you followed Marlene out of the center, and into a room of a pair of people, one familiar, and one not.

Your dad, and a man who would later become a crucial figure in this tale: Surgical expert, Doctor Jerry Anderson.

You didn’t understand what Marlene, your dad, and Mr. Anderson, as you used to call him, were getting at when you were first pulled into that room. All that they were explaining to you was blurring inside of your head.

Because it was unlike anything you had heard before.

Your ears were told a tale that you had heard on numerous occasions. A girl who was only a few years younger than you, was bitten. You weren’t sure how. But it didn’t really matter, did it? Everyone who was bitten turned into an animal in a matter of days. It didn’t matter how she had gotten the bite mark. It didn’t even matter where on her body the mark was. All you knew was that in a few days, this girl that was being described to you, would no longer be human. That she would no longer have control over her body, and she would no longer know right from wrong, up from down, man from woman. All she would know, was kill. Kill. Kill.

Unless she was one in a million.

Ellie Williams was hardly a human in your mind when you originally heard, but a God given chance, to fix the world as you knew it. You never believed you would live to see the day where a bite mark was a good thing, and yet, it was here, gazing you in the eyes.

Immunity. She was immune. The auburn haired girl had been bitten three weeks prior to the date you heard about this, and zilch. As Marlene had explained to you, it was like the mark was healing, not worsening.

And in a desolate world, where danger lurked every corner, where sorrow was normalized, and where loss was ceaseless, you were desperate. The Fireflies were desperate. Hope like this didn’t come on a daily basis, now, did it?

You jumped on the prospect as soon as you became conscious of it. All of you did.

Graciously unaware that it would blow up in your face.

In the earlier days of 2034, Ellie was smuggled to a Firefly base in Salt Lake City, a medical center, where your dad, Mr. Anderson, and several Fireflies were residing. As head medic by this point, you decided to remain in Boston caring for the members of your group back home, especially in the absence of your dad and Mr. Anderson.

It’s your life’s biggest regret.

Marlene had asked that you come to the Salt Lake City medical center as soon as you could, and to employ someone else to take over for a bit. Mr. Anderson was a good doctor, but he had decided that to perform proper surgery on Ellie, he would need a few more hands. You were honored that it was you he had chosen. To you, it was on the same level as getting an award. And so, alongside Marlene, and a few more members of the group, you made your way to Salt Lake City, your hopes in your hands, and dreams in your heart.

There was a point during the journey, however, where you ran into some trouble. Infected. And naturally, you were not just a medic: You knew how to survive in a world like this, and you knew how to hold your ground.

Splitting up wasn’t usually recommended when it came to any scenario, and for good reasons. However, it was your only choice. You and everyone beside you aside from Marlene, split up to make sure that she was the first one to make it to the medical center. You remember the last thing you said to her like a movie on loop in your head. See you soon.

And it plagues your brain like the virus that grips your world.

See you soon. You wish you had never said it. You wish you had never split up.

You wish it hadn’t happened.

You did see Marlene. But she was no longer alive when it happened. Fear grasped your bones as your body paralyzed, eyes glued to Marlene’s bloody corpse on the second floor of the medical center’s parking garage.

Tears filled your eyes, slipping down your cheeks. And then, you remembered.

Dad.

You took off running, brain not even processing that you could be putting yourself in danger by doing so. Whoever had done this to Marlene couldn’t be faraway from the building for all you knew. Hell, they could even be in it. But you didn’t care.

You booked it to the highest floor, where your dad and Mr. Anderson were supposed to be, heart racing, begging and bargaining to the universe, or whatever God there was, or somebody, to ensure that they were okay. That they were just fine.

There are some days where you wish you hadn’t opened that door.

The pair of them, alongside a third medic in the room, were found by you in a shape similar to Marlene. Naturally, you ran to dad first, small, shaky hands reaching out to flip over his face down body.

But you were too late.

Your mind goes blurry whenever it goes back to recall the memory. You don’t remember much: Tears, nausea, shaking, panic. You remember screaming, loudly, at that.

And you remember passing out, before being pulled out of the room.

The second that Jerry Anderson was announced dead, all hell broke loose, and you knew, you knew, it was over. The chance that had been driving you and your family of Fireflies for the last year, was gone, and it wasn’t coming back. Unless a brand new surgeon was going to generously drop from the sky, you were hopeless.

And it wasn’t even just that.

Because the universe had taken from you the one person you held closest to your heart. To your soul.

Dad.

You had a chance. You all did.

And, then, it was robbed away from you.

You and your dying group made your way back to Boston knowing just that: That you were collapsing. The days passed by in blurs, each one gloomier than the last. You just weren’t sure what to do anymore. All hope for a cure was gone. All hope for yourself was gone.

In 2036, the Fireflies were disbanded by what little members of it were around to do so, and that was it. It was over.

Your home was paradise, and paradise was gone.

You didn’t know what to do. Most of the family you had found here in the Fireflies was leaving, searching for a life away from the one you all had known for years. You didn’t know if you wanted to do the same. Part of you wanted to follow suit and leave Boston. Renew who you were. Adapt, and move on. But Boston had always been home, and by leaving it, you were leaving a part of you behind.

But you didn’t have a choice.

It was an early morning in 2036 when you began to pack your bags, readying to go. Where? It didn’t matter. All you knew was that home or not, Boston carried way too many painful memories, way more than you could bear. Marlene was dead. Mr. Anderson was dead. Dad was gone.

You didn’t see what else Boston had to give, that it hadn’t already taken away.

But just, just, when you were about to say your goodbyes, the universe, who had screwed you over in the past, clearly had different plans.

A few members had heard word, from previous members who had left the Fireflies before you, that on the west coast of the country, there was a chance: A chance to find home again, in a place named Catalina Island, a gorgeous land in California.

Risks had failed you before, and so had second chances. But, for once, you wanted to give in. You had to.

So you did.

That’s not to say that the second you got to Catalina Island, finding home once again in your fellow Fireflies, who were just as shattered as you were, that your tale was over. God, it was really, really far from it.

Because there was one more piece to the puzzle.

Abigail Anderson.

Anderson. The last name rang a bell once it escaped her lips. A blonde woman, body bruised, bloodied, and covered from the arms down in oozing gashes. Her hair was short and poorly cut, and from the way her bones were pushing into her skin, you could tell that she was severely malnourished.

Alongside her was a boy, obviously younger than her. Tousled black hair, bruises wherever you looked, and fully unconscious. In your time at Catalina Island, and as a Firefly in Boston, for that matter, you had never seen any pair of people in worse shape.

Not unless they were dead.

You remained head medic once you arrived in Catalina Island, naturally, and you had been managing that way for the last four years. So, when this woman showed up, this young boy by her side, like this, it was you who took control. It was you who nursed them, and it was you who made their scars, in a physical and mental sense, not disappear, but easier to handle. To bear.

By looking at them, by looking at her, it was like a mirror. You saw you.

Which is why you saw her.

Now, if someone had told you four years prior that this is where you would be today, losing your dad, losing Marlene, and losing Mr. Anderson, but falling for his child, you would’ve looked for a bite mark. But now, come the year 2040, where you had made a new life, one that Abigail Anderson was a prevalent part of, happiness no longer seemed impossible.

Because it wasn’t far away anymore, slipping from your fingers, the way it had on numerous occasions.

It was in your hands.

And you were in Abby’s.

Your eyes were being covered by Abby’s large hands as she led you to a place unknown. You had to assume it was one of the several beaches on the island, sand under your feet, sounds of waves in your ears. A smile had been plastered across your face for what seemed like hours, as Abby dragged you along.

“Come on, Abby. Are you going to tell me what this is about or what?” you asked her for the second time in the last minute. You could hear her low chuckle from behind you, and the way it always happens, comfort surges into your veins.

You had learned from Abby, once you bonded over the mutual loss of your dad and hers at the same man, that once Mr. Anderson had been killed, her and her friends, a few former members of the Fireflies, joined a group named the WLF. You had hence learned that during her time there, she was commonly known as a rugged, scary person, who a lot of people in the WLF didn’t dare insult, nor disobey.

And you couldn’t lie: It was hard to believe that for a second.

You had learned from Abby, also, that her resolve began to slip when she met the young boy who she had made it to Catalina Island alongside, who you had also taken care of: Lev. To put it simply, Lev was a member of a different group, that the WLF was never supposed to come across.

Not unless it was in war.

But he changed her. He did. Some days, you could see how guarded Abby was, how she couldn’t help going back to all she used to know, which was being all but barbaric when she was in Seattle. Closed off, wary. But most days, like today? You knew in your heart, that deep down in hers, Abby Anderson was good. Not innocent, but good.

And that was enough for you.

“Just come on!” Abby chuckled as she walked, not letting up her hold on your eyes for a second as she led you along.

You smiled, shaking your head in mock disapproval. “I have work to do back at the center, and we’re not supposed to be roaming around like this. You know that, right?”

“Babe,” Abby responded in an almost firm tone of voice as her feet quit moving, forcing you to root your body to the spot. It was silent, before she pressed a series of sweet, sloppy kisses to your neck and cheeks, managing to keep her hand over your eyes all the while. She had you crumbling just like that, making you a giggling mess as her lips met your skin.

Her kisses subsided once a million of them seeped into you, and it wasn’t the island heat that had your face warm when Abby was done. “Can you just trust me, please?” she laughed, and you didn’t need your vision to know she was giving you that puppy dog look that had you falling to your knees every time. The one that you couldn’t resist if you gave it your all.

You were too easy. “Yes.”

It wasn’t long before you and Abby reached where she wanted to bring you, and once you did, she paused. She was perched behind you now, large hands over your face, the solacing sound of her sighs coming into your ears. “Okay. Are you ready, my love?”

There wouldn't ever be a day where Abby calling you that wouldn’t make your heart pound in your chest.

“More than,” you easily respond.

As soon as you said it, Abby returned your vision to you, and your eyes can’t help but widen at what you see before you.

Because you never pegged “rugged” Abby Anderson as one for picnics.

“Oh, my God, Abby,” you said more to yourself than the blonde as you slowly approached the scene. Laid out on the sand of the beach was a picnic blanket, a folded blanket, a few pillows, a basket, a few books, and playing cards.

Accompanied by a perfect view of the beach.

“Do you not like it?” Abby asked, and there’s an air of sadness to the way she says it. You turn to look at her on cue, your face one of complete, utter disbelief.

Like it?

“Like it? Baby, I love this. More than know,” you respond, meaning every word. It’s been a long time since someone has wanted to care for you. A long, long time, since you had been the receiver, not the giver.

“Abs, it’s perfect. You’re perfect.”

You can see Abby blushing as you approach her and take her face into your hands, her freckled skin burning in heat. She leans into your touch, pressing her forehead onto yours, and holding your hands in her own.

“I just,” Abby sighed, opening her eyes once more to meet yours, solemn expression across her cheeks. “I just don’t feel like I cherish you enough, babe, show it, that is. Because believe me, I do cherish you. S’just, it’s been hard for me to show you how much. All that you did for me and Lev when we got to the island. Taking care of us. Helping us find a home here. I’ll spend the rest of my life saying thank you for it.”

You can feel your soul healing the more Abby speaks.

“I know this isn’t nearly enough to make up for what you did for us, and I wish it was. But I just figured, maybe. . .it could suffice for now.”

“Abby, baby,” you let a small laugh escape your lips as you say it. “You don’t have to make it up to me. At all. I did what I did, because I saw someone in you. I remember asking for your name, and you responded by asking me where Lev was. You didn’t even care what shape you were in. All you wanted to know was if he was okay. You reminded me of me.”

“You reminded me of dad.”

You couldn’t help but sigh, letting silence seep into the air around you as your brain battled to process what you had just said. You didn’t speak on your dad as much as you likely should: Abby knew that, and so did you. Talking about him made your chest compress, and your throat would fail you, making it feel as if you were choking. As if you were helpless. As if you were there all over again. But Abby knew as well as you did, that when your dad came into discussion, it was for a certain reason.

And for that reason, Abby didn’t speak: She hung fire. For you. For you.

“We live in a world where people combat their own morals just to survive. There’s no good guys. No principles, no rules, no laws. Anyone you come across is just as bad as you, and if not, they’re worse. But when I saw you? I knew. I knew that wasn’t you. Not anymore.”

You know you’re rambling by now, saying whatever comes to mind as soon as it does, but you can’t find it in you to care as you go on. “You want to believe I don’t know how much you care for me. But you don’t need to show it, Abby. I know you do. Right here.”

You take one of Abby’s large hands into yours, and as cliché as it is, not that you care at all, you place it over your heart.

“You feel that, don’t you? That’s all for you, baby. And it’s there that I feel how much you care about me. It’s there that I know.”

The same silence that was here before comes back. But this time, it’s not sad, or dark, or eerie. It’s solacing. It’s warm. It’s home.

And Abby doesn’t need words in order to respond.

It’s her turn to take your face into her hands as she pulls you in close. Her lips meet yours like they have so many times before, her familiar scent hitting your nose as you settle your hands onto her hips. The kiss is slow, and sweet, but passionate, and a burning desire surges inside you to never let her go, to always hold her close. To always call her yours.

You pull back from the kiss once you tire from it, gasping, Abby’s body mimicking yours as she does the same. You gaze into her eyes, the pretty blue ones that always make your heart swell, smiling up at her as you press one last kiss to her lips for good measure. “I adore you, Abby Anderson. You know that, right?” you grin.

It’s the first time you ever hear her giggle. “Me more than you, gorgeous.”

You spend hours there alongside Abby, and it’s the best time of your life. You spend time indulging in a few snacks the blonde packed for you, playing cards, and running around and playing in the sand, smiling all the way. You even get to hear Abby read to you, one of the most endearing things in the world, accompanied by the calming sound of the ocean before you. And when it came time for sunset, you sat down beside Abby, gazing on as amber, ochre, and rose faded into night.

It was perfect.

When it was nearly time for the evening to come to an end, you used the second blanket Abby had packed for your shared night to cuddle up beside her, heads rested on the pillows she had carried along as well. The side of your face was pressed into her chest as you gazed into the sky above you, Abby’s hand rubbing your back in slow circles to console you. Small suns coat the evening sky like sweet, powdered sugar, accompanied by a full moon that looks incredible over the horizon. All you could hear was the sound of the ocean, alongside Abby sighing gingerly every once in a while, or her pressing kisses to your forehead.

Not that you needed much more than that.

Suddenly, the sound of Abby chuckling in your ears snaps you out of your head, and you turn your face upwards curiously. Abby’s smile makes you smile, and it’s no surprise you began to wonder what the blonde woman found so funny all of a sudden.

“Remember how I told you Lev and I had to cross those bridges that were really high up?” Abby asked, and you had to raise an eyebrow, wondering where this was going. “Mhm,” you mumble, which is when Abby goes on.

“Well, before that, we had to get there by foot once we got out of the aquarium I told you about, the one I used to go to all of the time. That part of Seattle is overrun in rushing rapids, so a lot of the buildings around there were a lot more demolished than they usually would be anywhere else,” she explained.

“And, well. . .”

“We walked into this building, and there was a painting of these dogs playing cards. And I asked Lev if he knew our dogs could really play cards like that. Then he asked me if anyone found me funny,” Abby laughed. “It cracks me up whenever I remember it.”

She wasn’t the only one laughing. “Sounds like Lev. And like you,” you smile, and the tale makes you recall a humorous memory of your own. “Once, I was working late at the medical center back in Boston. I was doing research on this girl who had been feeling sick, but I wasn’t sure by what. Mind you, it’s late, and silent, if you don’t count me flipping the pages in my books.”

You giggle just remembering it. “It’s the weirdest thing ever, but my dad was really good at making Clicker noises. Like, really good. Sounded so real it made your heart drop. I was reading when I heard it, and I remember wondering how the hell infected had gotten inside. ‘Course I grab what was closest to me, a scalpel, and I swivel around.”

“And it’s dad.”

That one got Abby to burst out chuckling. “Oh, my God. Of all the things you could get, gorgeous. A scalpel?”

You rolled your eyes in response, playfully so. “What can I say? I’m just a medic. I didn’t carry a gun.”

Once Abby’s done laughing, which seems to take forever, she smiles down at you, pressing one more kiss to your forehead as if to make up for poking fun at you. You cuddle closer into her, letting your body relax in her embrace as a sigh escapes your lips.

You fall back into silence soon enough, eyes glued to the sky as Abby rubs her hand over your back, holding you like you would fade away if she let you go. You run your fingers through her short hair as you press kisses to her neck, jaw, and face, giving her all the love you know she deserves. Your eyes scan her features like she was molded by some higher power, and you can’t help but want to worship her, endlessly.

Not just for what she looks like. But for who she is.

“My baby. It’s like you were made for me, you know?” you whisper in Abby’s ear as your eyes pierce into her blue ones. But Abby’s head shook quickly.

You can predict what she’s going to say in response. “No, gorgeous.”

“It’s you who was made for me.”

—

reblogs are very much welcomed! <3

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lizzie-boo · 1 month

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Baby, You're My Type

Eddie Munson x GN!Reader

Words: 804

Summary: When someone unexpected asks you on a date it brings some new information to light. And long-overdue conversations are had.

A/N: Slowly getting back into writing, I'm very rusty so please bear with me. Hope you enjoy it. I should have a few more small fics coming out in the next few days while I still have some time off.

The Hellfire club was just finishing up a section of their campaign when you burst through the door, eager to share your news. You throw yourself into an open seat, leg bouncing as you wait for Eddie to stop talking. You lean over the table, fingers tapping as you stare at your best friend.

As soon as he closes his mouth the words were spilling out, “The funniest thing ever just happened.”

Everyone begins packing their things and Eddie quirks a brow in your direction. When all you do is stare at him with a wide grin he gestures for you to continue.

“Jason just asked me on a date,” you laugh as the rest of the room goes quiet. The older members of the group are quick to rush out the door not wanting to see where this conversation goes. Dustin on the other hand stops shoving papers into his backpack and settles in, ready to watch the drama.

Lucas and Mike tug at his arms, not wanting to stick around longer than necessary. “Let’s go,” Mike hisses. His eyes darting between you and Eddie.

"Now," Lucas urges.

“I want to see how this plays out,” Dustin whines, catching your attention. Your laughing dies as you take in the worried look of the younger group members and realize that maybe your news wasn’t as funny as you thought.

“You should go out with him.” You whip around, eyes wide. The click of the door behind you is all you need to let you know that only you and Eddie are left to finish this conversation.

You open and close your mouth, trying to figure out the right combination of words. Something that will get through to Eddie and let him know just how ridiculous he is being. Before you can find the words Eddie continues, “I mean you do seem excited about it.”

Finally you stand up and make your way toward him, leaning on the table just in front of his chair. Your fingers wrap around the edge of the table, gripping it tight.

“I was only excited to share the news because it’s crazy and I found it funny.”

“I don’t see what would be that funny about it.” He leans forward in his seat. The small gap between you grows smaller but neither of you back down. The smell of his cheap cologne floods your senses and for a moment you forget what you are talking about.

“He’s not my type, not even close to my type. Everyone knows that, so it’s funny that he thought he would ever have a chance.” The way you lips quirk up at the end of your sentence is not missed by Eddie. His eyes practically glued to your lips as you speak.

“Are you sure, he seems like he would be your type.” There’s an edge to his voice that has you gripping the table harder. How can he still think that you would be into someone like Jason when you have always made it clear that you would never be caught dead with someone that arrogant.

You chew on your lip, contemplating if you really want to say what you’re about to. Taking a deep breath you tell Eddie, “My type is metalheads, with crazy hair, tattoos, and a love for nerdy things like dungeons and dragons.”

He taps his fingers against the arm of his chair, pretending to think about your revelation. You scan the room, trying to find anything to hold your attention so you can avoid looking at Eddie.

“I thought you said everyone knew your type, but I never knew that’s what you’re into.” He stands from his chair inching ever closer. His warm breath hits your face and finally you turn your gaze back to him.

Your heart flutters as you take him in up close. Mustering all the courage in you, you tell him, “I made it painfully obvious for so long, but in case you still can’t see it this should help.”

He quirks a brow at your cryptic words and you bunch your hands in his shirt pulling him closer. Pressing your lips into his you let out all the pent up emotion you have been holding in. His arm slips around your waist pulling you closer as his other slides up to cup your cheek.

When you pull back, you can’t help but to smile. “In case it still wasn’t clear, you’re my type Eddie, just you.”

“Hmm, I never would’ve guessed,” he jokes. “That’s good though, ‘cause baby, you're my type too.”

Lifting you slightly he sets you fully on the table intent on making up for lost time. As your lips find his you wrap your legs around his waist and get lost in the happiness of finally being with Eddie.

#stranger things imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x you #eddie munson #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things season 4 #eddie munson fluff #stranger things s4

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jiniret-writings · 8 months

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Warm Blankets Pt. 1

Genre: angst, fluff

Pairing: platonic!skz x 9th member!reader

Warnings: Chan is really mean in the beginning

The actions of the members in this story do not represent how they are in real life. This is all fictional and should not be taken seriously.

Pt.1 || Pt.2 || Pt.3

If I knew you'd act like this, I wouldn't have fought for you to be in the group!

Chan's words still rung in your head as you walked with Hyunjin, looking down to hold back another wave of tears.

You didn't know how the fight even started. One minute you were walking into his studio and the next, you were being pulled out by Hyunjin. His soft reassurances clashed with the cold look in his eyes as he looked at their leader.

Hyung! That was low. Calm down and then talk. We're done for today.

The minute the words left his mouth you were stunned. All fight and fire had left your body, leaving you cold. It wasn't easy for Chan to fight for you. The company had too many factors to consider. You were considered a "risky choice", but day in and day out, Chan fought. He practiced with you, recorded with you, and helped you prepare to be your very best. Even if you were good, you stayed up with him to strive to be better.

And in the end, it all came together. Your fate was left in the hands of public opinion and it seemed you were more liked than you thought. With 97% of the audience voting to keep you in the group, you were officially a part of Stray Kids.

You were always pushing yourself, staying late nights and having early mornings to squeeze in as much practice time as possible. You wanted to prove that you had a spot in the group. Impressing fans was important, but more than anything, you wanted to make the members proud. You wanted to make Chan proud.

You didn't remember how the fight started, but you knew he didn't mean it. Still, the words stung more than any critique or hate comment you've ever gotten. Unable to hold back the next wave of tears, you pulled Hyunjin to the side of the road and turned towards a wall to wipe the tears away. As soon as you turned away though, you felt a presence behind you and a hand on your back.

"It's okay to cry, you know. You don't have to hide it", he reassured, running his hand up and down your back. "What he said was mean, but it was wrong. You have a big part in out group. Without you, we wouldn't be Stray Kids, only Stray."

You couldn't hold back any more and hugged the older boy. He was only a few months older but it was like he took it upon himself to be the 00's eldest; he always took care of his younger members, and never left them alone when they were down.

Hugging you tightly to his chest, Hyunjin gently ran his fingers down your back, occasionally running them through your hair. He made calm shushing sounds as you let go of every tear you'd been holding back since you left the company building. You didn't know how to describe the pain you felt, but being around Hyunjin was making it better. I'm not alone. I'm wanted, you thought as your breathing finally slowed.

"Is there anything you want to do? We basically have the day off," Hyunjin whispered, still holding you to him. It was a gentler hold so you could let go if you wanted to.

You didn't want to.

Thinking it over, you were just tired. You didn't know what to do so you just shook your head. Hyunjin hummed at that, thinking. A few seconds later he said, "how about we go back to the dorms and just eat and watch movies?"

The thought of seeing the other members made your heart lighter so you looked up and nodded before stepping away from him. "Yeah, that'd be nice," you said.

"Cool! Let's get some snacks before heading back?" he asked, pointing to the convenience store not too far from where you were.

"Sure! And some drinks?"

"You got it," he responded before grabbing your hand and walking to the store.

Unknown to you, Hyunjin had sent a quick text to the dorm:

SOS, y/n had a really bad day, extra tlc needed

You lived in a dorm with Felix, Seungmin, Leeknow, and Jeongin since that dorm had five rooms and the other had four. Your dorm was immediately dubbed the "cuties dorm" because it was the maknae line + Minho.

Today wasn’t really a day off but most of your schedules were in the morning so most, if not all, if your dorm mates were home. The moment they got the text, it was like a spell was cast over them. Felix was the first to react, running to all of their rooms and grabbing every pillow and blanket he could get his hands on.

Seungmin and Minho were watching a scary movie together and got up as well. Minho went into the kitchen to start cooking your favorite meal and Seungmin looked for their matching pajama sets. You had bought it on the fay you all moved, but hadn’t had a chance to wear it. Jeongin was out for a walk when he got the text and started running home. On the way though, he spotted a cute bear and bought it quickly before heading back.

At the same time, Hyunjin sent another text to 2/3RACHA:

Leader-hyung is pissed. Casualty=1 Tread carefully

He knew today was a track-day for 3RACHA so he left them to it, but decided they deserved a warning. Chan never hurt them intentionally, but when he was mad, words could be said that he didn’t mean. Hyunjin already had one hurt kid, he didn’t want to add more to the mix. Placing his arms around your shoulders, Hyunjin walked towards the convenience store and hoped the members all pulled through.

Here's Part One of my first mini-series here! I was originally going to make it one long post, but then it got really long so for my first one, I figured it'd be best to have this broken up into three parts.

The next two parts are being written and will be up in the upcoming days! If all goes well, the next part will be up in two days, and then part three will be up two days after the second part!

I want to reiterate the note I put in the beginning, I do not, in any way, think those words would come out of Chan's mouth. This is all purely fiction and in no way represents how I feel about the members. I love them all, but for the fic I needed an angst anchor.

Thanks for reading! Likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated! And as always, have a great morning, afternoon, evening, and night!

-Jini

Divider made by: @cafekitsune

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mixtape-racha · 9 months

Text

talk me down | sim jaeyun

you honestly couldn't comprehend why falling for your brother's best friend was so taboo... especially when said best friend was jake sim. // minors dni, 18+

words: 6.55k // warnings: established relationship, jock!jake, frat!jake x sorority!reader, brother!heesung, unprotected sex (pull out method is used - wrap it before you tap it guys)

loving jake sim was easy, like breathing. everything he did was the epitome of “boyfriend”, and it never failed to have butterflies in your stomach and a flush of red on your cheeks. you just wished you could love him out loud, show him off to the world as yours, and you knew deep down he felt the same.

you didn’t understand why falling for your brother’s best friend was so taboo. sure, heesung was jake’s only hyung, and that made things slightly more awkward - jake would never want to do anything that could offend or upset heesung, but falling for you was never on his agenda when befriending his older friend on the football team.

now heesung had graduated, it was easier for you and jake to just be together on campus, but sometimes it got difficult. he couldn’t just turn up to pick you up from home for a date over the holidays, and you had to be careful with your proximity and interactions when you were all hanging out as a group with their other friends.

part of you felt awful about hiding this from your elder brother, but no one knew how he’d react so you were biding your time in finding the right time to tell him. you hoped he’d approve - you needed him to approve. more than anything. you couldn’t lose jake, not after spending so long falling for everything about him. all his quirks and secret hobbies. all his guilty pleasures and his routines. his coffee order, the songs he uses to hype himself up before a game. the way he holds you, the way he kisses you - conveying everything he couldn't say through the way his lips meshed with yours.

however, what you weren’t expecting was for everything to come tumbling out when heesung gatecrashed a frat party with a bunch of other last years’ graduates from the football team.

—-------------------------------------------------------------

jake had met heesung when the younger was just a baby-faced college freshman. it was only a few years ago, but it felt like a lifetime. jake was a pledge for kappa nu, where heesung was already a brother - a legacy, actually. his father and uncles had all been in kappu nu during their time at the college, and it was safe to say heesung was one of their most active members.

heesung quickly adopted jake as his little brother, seeing a lot of himself in the bright-eyed kid. they became best friends almost as quickly, heesung introducing jake to the football team, which is where jake got his confidence to actually go to tryouts.

he had met you not far into the semester, at a mixer between his frat, and your sorority - where you were, much like your brother, a legacy. you were instantly attracted to him, and got chatting almost straight away. you told him about how your entire family had gone to HybeU, and that nowhere else even seemed like an option for you brother the previous year, or you when you had applied. it turned out HybeU loved legacy students, and were keen to take on as many as they could.

with the flush of alcohol running through your veins, you almost got the confidence to ask jake to take you back to his room, before your brother called out your childhood nickname - stunning both you and jake.

“(n/n)! you’ve met jake! he’s the kid i was telling you about!”

he was so excited for his best friend to meet his treasured little sister, but you couldn’t deny the awkwardness that developed between you and jake after. almost as if your brother being his best friend was an instant turn-off for him.

but as much as he tried to put distance between you to ignore the growing crush he developed on you from the first time he saw you - he couldn’t. it was like he couldn’t escape you. he was going to hang out off campus with his friends? heesung was insistent on bringing you along! a football match, or even practice? oh, you were in the stands because heesung was taking you out for some brother-sister bonding after. jake was struggling in his english lit class, which he needed to pass to stay on the team? you loved the novel he was learning about, heesung would see if you were free to tutor him sometime!

it was almost as if the universe, or even heesung himself was trying to push the two of you together. he almost got up the courage to ask heesung for his blessing to take you on a date, until he was stuck in a conversation with his hyung and another frat brother which changed his perspective.

“i dunno, man. your sister’s pretty cute, and she’s around all the time. i’d take her out, you know?”

heesung seethed at the mere thought of it. “if you, or anyone here for that matter, even think about touching my sister i promise i won’t hesitate to cut your balls off. she’s off limits, got it?”

oh.

maybe jake wouldn’t ask you out, after all.

but it was so difficult - to be around you so often and not be able to voice his feelings. he truly had no idea you felt the same way, especially clueless to the conversation you and heesung had after you ended up blushing and shy everytime you hung out with his friends. heesung didn’t know your feelings for jake, and so he couldn’t tell the boy in question, and you were happy to keep it that way. he just warned you that his friends were off-limits, and probably not the type of boyfriend material you were after. in fact, he warned you that most frat boys were not the type of boys he’d want his sister to be with.

it was only after your childhood best friend and sorority sister started dating a shared friend of heesung and jake - and by default, you - that you began to question hiding your feelings from jake. jay was lovely, and he was so perfect to mina that you couldn’t help but wonder…. why couldn’t that be you? why couldn’t it be jake picking you up from mixers when you drank too much, or bringing coffee to your morning lecture because you were tired? what was the harm in trying?

embarrassingly, your confession came when jake picked you up from a bar - entirely by accident. heesung was sick and all your friends were either busy, or had also been drinking. but jake came for you, like a knight in shining armor, and you couldn’t help it.

“you’re so pretty, ikeu.” you breathed, your eyes dancing like stars as you took in the way he stood against his car waiting for you. you watched as a pretty, pink blush spread across his cheeks and he shook his head softly.

“you’re drunk,” he started, opening the passenger door to help you in. “c’mon. you need some water and to go to bed.”

of course you listened, it was jake so why wouldn’t you? but you were still determined to prove your point.

“no, seriously, jake. you’re, like…. gorgeous,” you couldn’t look away from him as he pulled away from the curb to take you back to your sorority house. “everyone loves you and its not fair. it means i’m not special.”

he was taken aback by your words, glancing over at you slightly shocked when he reached a red light. his heart was hammering in his chest, but he was painfully aware that he couldn’t respond the way he truly wanted, especially while you were intoxicated in his passenger seat.

“you are special, (y/n). i don’t think you realize how special you are to me. but let's not talk about this now, yeah?”

“but if not now, then when? heesung wouldn’t let us be alone together if he knew how i really felt.” you huffed, opting to stare out the window instead. jake thought you looked like a child sulking, it was kind of cute.

“(y/n),” he started softly. “if you like me more than as a friend, it’s okay. it actually makes the way i’ve been pining over you less embarrassing. but you know we can’t act on it, right? heesung would kill me.”

you couldn’t help the tears that build it your eyes as jake pulled up to your house, the car drawing to a stop as you let out a sigh.

“i know. thanks for the ride, jake. see you around, i guess.”

you had left the car before he could even say another word, but he was too stupid and overwhelmed to go after you, which in hindsight was his biggest mistake. you started avoiding him after that, barely able to act normal when you bumped into him with your brother.

it went on for three weeks, and he couldn’t stand it. fuck what heesung thought. he couldn’t cope with the way you avoided him like the plague - not when he knew you felt the same way as him.

heesung had gone away on a trip with one of his clubs, and you felt restless and abandoned. you’d never been away from your brother for too long, and not having him within an arm’s distance was unsettling in every way. you started hanging out at the frat house again more often, as you saw the guys as brothers of your own by default, but that didn’t stop you from avoiding jake still.

it was only when he bumped into you in the kitchen at 3am one morning that he got up the courage to confront you, and neither of you could have expected the turn that the night would take.

“you know you don’t have to act like i don’t exist, right? it actually fucking sucks.”

you jumped, not expecting the voice behind you as you filled your water bottle in the sink. you knew it was jake, and as much as you wanted to avoid this conversation, you knew you couldn’t. you sighed, switching off the faucet and turning to face him, taking in the way he seemed exhausted in every sense of the word.

“jake, i can’t do this right now, okay?”

“but if not now, then when?” he snapped, mirroring your words from the night you told him of your feelings for him, and you had to admit you felt a bit ashamed. was it really eating him up that bad?

“you were right. heesung would kill you. so what’s the point of entertaining something that can never happen? being around you is too hard right now, so i’m keeping my distance until i’m over this. please don’t make it harder for me, jake.”

there was a beat of silence as jake processed what you had said and took a mental battle with himself. you could see the cogs turning in his head as he muttered to himself, angry with you ro himself, you weren’t sure.

“let’s just… talk about this another time, okay?”

you went to walk past him, but you didn’t get far before he grabbed your wrist with a silent plea to just wait and hear him out. the contact between you had your skin buzzing, and all of a sudden you completely forgot why you’d been avoiding him. why couldn’t you both just be normal people?

jake sighed, his eyes darting over your face for any signs of discomfort.

“just– fuck it. fuck what heesung thinks.” was all he said before pulling you closer and placing his lips on yours. and it felt magical. yeah, you may have been kissing in his fraternity kitchen at almost half past three in the morning, wearing one of his friend’s shirts as a sleep dress, but it was the most perfect first kiss you could have even imagined.

he couldn’t stop himself, pressing peck after peck to your soft lips, his hands cupping your face like you’d disappear if he let go. your hands, on the contrary, had dipped under his shirt, holding onto his waist like it was keeping you grounded. it took everything in you not to dig your nails into his gorgeous skin when his teeth nipped your bottom lip, and you let out an embarrassing whimper. god, were you really that touch-starved?

eventually, you had to pull away for breath, mumbling against his lips because you couldn’t bring yourself to be too far for him. “take me to your room, jake. i don’t care what we do, we could just sleep for all i care, i just need to be close to you.”

he grinned, softly caressing your cheek as he pulled away, and you blushed at the way he looked at you like you hung the stars in the sky. he was quick to take your hand and pull you up the stairs to his bedroom. once you were safely in with the door closed and locked, he practically begged you to change into one of his shirts to sleep in, his puppy-dog eyes making you weak in the knees.

“please, (y/n), i can’t sleep next to you knowing you’re wearing one of jungwon’s shirts. what about if– listen, whatever one you choose i’ll let you keep it, yeah?”

he was cute when he begged, not that he needed to. and the second you were curled up in his bed, one of your legs slung over his waist while his fingers drew soft patterns on your skin - you knew you were in love.

—-----------------------------------------------------------

almost two years had passed since jake asked you to be his girlfriend, exactly a year after you found yourself curled up in his bed with a shitty tv show playing in the background - and things were a lot different since then

you were both seniors now. jake was captain of the football team, while you were president of the musical theater society. heesung had graduated a year earlier, and while you felt bad about hiding a huge part of your life from him, being with jake couldn’t be better.

now heesung was no longer on campus, you could go out holding hands, or stay at each other’s dorms without the worry of being caught. you could kiss jake when he ran up to you happily after a successful football game, and he could meet you with flowers after one of your musical theater performances.

you just prayed that heesung would stay oblivious enough at least until after you graduated - you’d feel less bad about telling him then. in fact, you were impressed with how well you and jake were hiding it from him. unfortunately for you, it wouldn’t last as long as you hoped.

not long before the first semester of your senior year ended, kappa nu decided to throw a huge celebration party - mainly to celebrate the upcoming graduates, but also just to enjoy the end of the semester before christmas break.

of course, you and jake were keen to go - even more so when sunghoon had excitedly told you it was going to be a costume party. the concept of a costume party sparked many playful fights between jake and yourself - he wanted to go in hogwarts robes, but you felt that was too halloween-like and wanted something more…. couple-y? cute?

eventually, you decided to go as romeo and juliet, jake searching high and low for a non-metallic knight costume that was breathable and easy to move in, while you had it easy. you thrifted a really cute white dress, and found a pair of good quality, dainty angel wings online for a relatively cheap price.

the two of you decided not to show one another your costumes until the day of the party, where you’d have to meet jake at the kappa nu house where he was given the responsibility of greeting guests. it was exciting, and you decided to throw in your own twist to the costume as a fun surprise for him.

it felt like a given that you’d stay with jake after the party, crashing in his room and probably spending all your hangover recovery time with him, so why not make it interesting? you searched online high and low to find the perfect website - and when you did, you ordered a gorgeous lace thong in white (to match your dress) with the phrase “jake’s girl” etched into the hemline with crystal lettering. talk about a perfect early christmas present, right?

you tried to avoid talking about the party with him after that, afraid you’d accidentally spill your guts and spoil the surprise for him. but luckily he seemed more caught up in the love lives of his friends - more specifically, who they’d all be bringing to the party.

“i think sunoo’s going to bring that sophomore girl from his accounting seminars. at least i hope so, god, i’m so sick of hearing him pine after her. i swear i wasn’t that bad before we got together.”

looking over at jay who was sitting opposite you with mina in the cafe, he gave you a look that told you all you needed to know. jake was definitely that bad. probably worse. in fact, you did them all a favor by getting with him because he would never shut the fuck up about you.

when the day of the party finally arrived, you and your sorority sisters decided to all band together and get ready in your living room - helping one another with makeup, straightening each other’s hair, being each other’s designated photographers for instagram posts. you had no idea anyone off campus knew anything about the party - especially not last years graduates - until you got a message from your brother.

have fun tonight, (n/n)!!! send me a picture of ur costume :( im so annoyed i’m not there kappa nu didn’t do anything like this before i graduated

for some reason, the wording of heesung’s message felt ominous. you weren’t sure how he even knew about the party, but you shook it off the second one of the younger, freshman girls in your house asked you if you could braid her hair - which you agreed to, happily pulling out a box of hair ties.

by the time all the girls were ready, it was half past nine and you were a little late for the party - not that you minded. after shoving some essentials in the little purse you were bringing, you all left the house to start the short walk to the kappa nu house.

it probably looked insane - 15 girls all dressed in different costumes that definitely didn’t coordinate walked down the road in the student village. you all looked like you were going to completely different events, and the effects of the pre-drinks were starting to kick in with the way you were all giggling like maniacs. half of you couldn’t walk in a straight line sober, so the group of you stumbling across the curb must’ve looked rather amusing to passers-by.

you and the elder sisters in the sorority stayed to the back of the group as your approached the house, wanting all the younger girls to get in the house safely and make sure you hadn’t lost anyone on the walk there - the freshman and sophomores were feral, and sometimes you struggled to keep track of them.

you smiled as jake came into your line of vision, his freshly bleached hair in a dirty blonde adding to the effect of the costume. you liked it, maybe too much, but that was a problem for later. he grinned when he saw you, taking in your outfit and making you do a quick twirl for him.

“you look good, baby. i’ll be inside in a minute, yeah? they’re making me stay on the door until the last sorority gets here.” he pressed a kiss to your temple as you ran your hands over the armor of his costume - it was surprisingly good quality, and you couldn’t help but wonder where he got it so last minute.

“no worries, jakey, just come find me when you get in.” you pressed a sweet kiss to his lips, reaching up to rub away the remains of your lipgloss after. you took note of the soft hue of red coating his cheeks and turned to wave at him as you walked into the house. you would never get over the affect you had on jake, it was both endearing and so, so fucking attractive.

jake wormed his way through the crowds of people towards you about 15 minutes later, a red solo cup of punch in each hand. he passed you a cup and sipped his own as you danced with your friends, having the best time of your college life so far. when you’d finally had enough of dancing with jake and your friends, and your feet started to hurt, you took jake’s hand and began mingling - being a social butterfly was never on your agenda, but you loved knowing so many people and being able to say hi and know the names of most people at the party.

it was only about an hour and a half into the party that you remembered your surprise for jake, and the alcohol coursing through your veins gave you enough confidence to finally show him. you and jake were by no means new to sexual activity with one another, but he still always managed to make you shy and for once you wanted to give him the same effect.

you waved goodbye to jay and mina, quickly pulling jake towards an empty bathroom and giggling as he questioned where you were going. his cousin and frat brother had finally met a girl, so his bedroom was off-bounds as jake had loaned it to him for the night, so for now a bathroom was your best option.

pushing jake in and locking the door behind you, he’d never been so confused in his life.

“what’s going on, angel? you getting overwhelmed out there?” he asked as you hopped onto the counter shaking your head.

“got a surprise for you, jakey, but i couldn’t show you out there. trust me, you don’t want anyone else to see it.” biting your lip to try and contain your grin, you moved jake’s hands to the hem of your dress, urging him to lift it up.

he chuckled breathlessly, confused by your antics.

“don’t tell me you’ve got all needy for me already, huh? oh, baby, what am i going to do with you?”

you groaned as he simply fingered the hemming of your dress, your eyebrows furrowing slightly in frustration. annoyed with his waiting game, you lifted your dress, the light catching the crystals on your panties causing his eyes to go flying down to them.

it took him a minute to process what the lettering spelt, but once he did, he looked back up at you with a smirk. one that had you clenching your thighs together, anticipating what was to come.

“yeah, you’re my girl,” he hummed, the cockiness flooding through in this tone. “my pretty, pretty girl, aren’t you? you did all this for me, hmm?”

you nodded shyly, a coat of red settling gently on your cheeks as he caressed your bare thighs. you loved it when he got possessive, and he loved it equally as much when you willingly submitted yourself to him completely.

“nuh uh, use your words,” he chuckled, pinching the skin between his fingers and reveling in the way your breaths got shorter as he inched closer to your core. “you’re a big girl, aren’t you? my girl. use your words for me, my angel girl.”

“did it all you for, jakey,” you mumbled, nosing against his neck as he pulled himself closer to you. “just wanna be pretty for you.”

his fingers reached further up, fiddling with the lettering on the hem of your panties as he pressed a searing hot kiss to your lips.

“my pretty girl. got me all worked up now, you know that? can’t even take you to my room,” the grumble in his voice was only half-serious, knowing full well that he planned to ruin you right there on top of the bathroom counter. “will you let me have my way with you right here, pretty?”

you simply nodded, too overwhelmed in your lust for the boy in front of you that words failed you. he cupped your face in his soft hands, pressing his lips firmly against your own, and an embarrassing whimper fell from your throat. how had you been together for bordering on two years, but even a simple kiss had you melting under his fingertips?

you didn’t know how or when your panties ended up strewn on the bathroom floor, or when jaeyun had pulled down the top of your dress, your tits spilling out so prettily as he mouthed at them - but you couldn’t complain. not when you felt budding marks blooming across your skin, nor when he pulled you closer so your hips sat flush to each other and his cock aching in his pants pressed against you so deliciously.

while one of your hands was wandering lower, pressing between your bodies to try and get a grip on jake’s belt buckle, the other was wrapped in strands of his hair, the feeling of his lips leaving a fiery wake on your skin being both too much and not enough. he was panting and allowing little whines to leave his lips as you tugged on his roots - something you discovered that he thoroughly enjoyed quite early into your relationship.

almost as if he didn’t want to - which he probably didn’t in all honesty - he finally pulled himself away from your chest enough to help you unbuckle his trousers and lower them, along with his boxers, just enough so his cock could spring out of its confines. he was so hard you wouldn’t be surprised if it was bordering on uncomfortable, and you wanted nothing more than for him to bully himself inside you and fill you up only the way he could - so, so perfectly.

you spat on your hand before stroking his length, the boy in front of you slightly jolting at the sudden stimulation. although, as much as he wanted nothing more than to be buried inside your walls, he also seemed keen on the idea of teasing you, causing you to groan and throw your head back in frustration.

“please, baby. need you in me. won’t you fuck me, jakey, please?” you put on your best puppy-dog eyes in hopes of swaying him, and in one swift movement he hooked an arm around your waist to pull you closer to him as he eased inside your tight hole.

“fuck, angel. haven’t i fucked you good enough, huh? still so tight after all this time, its almost like your pretty pussy’s suffocating me.”

you keened at his words, head falling forward to rest against his shoulder as he began shallowly thrusting into you. you were well aware that jake was particularly endowed, but somehow it managed to catch you off guard every time he sheathed his entire length inside you. you’d never felt so full, and it was addicting. in fact, everything he did was addicting.

the way he rolled his pelvis into yours had you drooling onto his costume, your eyes rolling into the back of your head in a way beyond your control. maybe it was the alcohol in your systems, or the fact you were fucking in the bathroom of his frat house, but you swore jake had you seeing stars faster than ever before.

anyone who stood too close to the bathroom door would be fully aware of what was going on, the sound slapping sounds and moans echoing off the tiled walls easily overpowering the loud bass of the music for anyone in a close enough proximity. you slung both arms around his neck, tears welling up in your eyes at how good he was making you feel.

but then, a knock on the door caught you off guard, jake’s hand slamming over your mouth - he didn’t want anyone else to hear your pretty calls of his name, and he was sure he could get rid of whoever was outside the door easily.

“yeah? kinda busy in here, sorry!” jake called out through gritted teeth, his cock never stopping its assault on your gummy walls. his eyes were screwed tightly shut, and you couldn’t help but move his hand from your mouth and run your tongue over the veins popping out on his neck, collecting all the sweat on your tongue. it was so hot, the idea of one of his frat brothers catching you in the act.

“jake? bro, is that you?” suddenly jake’s hips stilled inside you, both of you in utter disbelief, not wanting to recognize the voice on the other side of the door that your eyes were glued to. “sorry, man, i’m looking for (y/n), have you seen her?”

you gasped, not expecting jake to shallowly start thrusting into you again, the fact that your brother was standing on the other side of a plank of wood doing nothing to fend off his impending orgasm.

“i dunno, man. have you asked the others? i’ll talk to you once i’m finished in here.” he groaned, heeseung letting out an amused laugh when he finally caught on to jake’s x-rated activities.

“yeah sure, bro. make sure you clean up after yourself, yeah?”

as soon as heeseung’s voice had quietened and you were sure he had walked away, jake’s grip on your hips became tighter as he pulled you into a bruising kiss and began pistoning his hips in and out of you at an animalistic pace.

you couldn’t stop the loud whines and moans from falling from your lips, gripping onto his biceps to try and support the way you were wobbling on the counter. you couldn’t believe how keen he was, especially after talking to your brother while his cock was buried in your walls.

“jake- oh, fuck– jakey, he’s gonna find out– hnn–” the knot in your abdomen was growing tighter and tighter by the second, and you were sure you looked a mess of drool and running makeup by now. but jake didn’t stop. instead he attached his lips back to your neck, mumbling against the skin.

“don’t care. just need to feel you cum around me. can figure out everything else later.”

and for once, you couldn’t bring yourself to care. jake’s fingers fumbled as he reached down to rub your clit, the extra stimulation hurling you right to the edge of your release. between his lips, his fingers, his cock, you couldn’t hold yourself back or give him any warning. your orgasm hit you like a brick wall, your body stiffening and walls clamping down on jake’s length like a vice.

you practically saw white, eyes rolling to the back of your head, mouth in a wide “o” as the waves of pleasure rolling through your body all the way to your soul. jake cursed, almost whimpering as he pulled his length out of you.

“sorry, baby. can’t fill you up, tonight.” he groaned, fisting his cock harshly and allowing his load to release all over your exposed abdomen. heavy pants filled the room, your hands on jake’s shoulders as he gripped the counter either side of you body while you tried to catch your breath.

silently, he pulled himself away to get some tissue, cleaning himself up and tucking his softening length back into his pants, before running a face cloth under the bathtub faucet.

“gonna clean you up, okay, pretty girl? just sit there and be good for me.” he murmured before bringing the towel down to your folds, gently wiping away the remains of your activity. he was always extra cautious about aftercare, painfully aware of where you were most sensitive before you even figured it out. he then helped you down off of the counter, telling you to go pee while he cleaned the counter - which, being his good girl, of course you did.

“now, act normal, okay? go sit by sunoo’s room, and i’ll go find heeseung and tell him i found you there.” he smiled softly, peppering kisses all over your face as you giggled. “you sure you can walk okay?”

you nodded, a blush spreading on your cheeks before tapping his butt gently.

“yes, i promise. now unlock the door before someone thinks i got kidnapped.”

“nah, you’d bore them to death talking about twilight. they’d give you back to me within an hour.” he joked, chuckled as you feigned offense and gently slapped his chest. he unlocked the door, opening it enough to slip out and pull you out with him, but he didn’t go as far as you thought he would. for some reason, he came to a dead stop almost instantly without warning you, and you ended up slamming straight into his back.

“ouch, jake, what the fuck–” but your words were cut short as you peered around him and were met with the figure of your brother standing across the hall, phone in one hand and a drink in the other, staring straight at you. “ah, shit.”

heeseung didn’t say a single word as he approached, barely looking you in the eye until he walked past you. “i think we need to talk, don’t we? i’ll meet you in the den.” and with that, he simply walked away.

heeseung’s emotions were hard to read at the best of times, but he was certainly hiding how he felt well in that moment. you looked up at jake, only to be met with his terrified face and his grip on your hand tightening slightly.

silently, you sighed and began leading him towards the den, where your brother would be waiting. whatever happened in there, you would stand your ground. you were hopelessly in love with jake, and if heeseung didn’t like it - well, he would just have to suck it up. he’d come around eventually, of course, but there was no way in hell you were leaving the love of your life purely because your brother told you to.

you softly pressed a kiss to jake’s cheek before walking into the den, as requested by heeseung. honestly, you were ready to go in all guns blazing, and you were never opposed to yelling at your brother if it meant he’d listen to you. when you entered, jake trailing behind you, heeseung was already sat on a beanbag, face unreadable.

jake, somehow, had the courage - or, maybe stupidity - to go and sit on the beanbag opposite heeseung, but you chose to stay standing with your arms folded over your chest.

“whatever you have to say, seung, just say it and get it over with. i’m not in the mood for a lecture.”

finally, heeseung pulled his gaze to you, but still, his expression was utterly unreadable. his eyes drifted over to jake before coming back to you, and you were more than relieved when he finally spoke.

“please just sit down, (n/n). i’m not going to lecture you, i swear.”

you huffed, avoiding his eyes as you plopped yourself into the beanbag next to jake. speaking of which, jake looked like he was about to vomit. his hands were almost rigid at his side, and if you couldn’t see the slight movement of his shoulders you would’ve probably thought he wasn’t breathing.

you had to stop yourself from taking jake’s hands in yours to comfort him - if heeseung kicked off over it, you weren’t sure how jake would take it, and you didn’t want to wind your brother up even more.

the room was eerily silent for a while; too long, for your liking.

you almost thought heeseung had lost his mind when he started smiling, assuming he was taking joy from yours and jake’s apparent fear. in fact, you could’ve sworn you hadn’t seen such a smile on his face since the day you told him that you’d been accepted to HybeU.

“god, you guys are so cute. did you really think i hadn’t picked up on it by now? i basically shipped you from the start.”

suddenly all the air came back into the room, and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“you knew? hyung, but– i thought you would’ve killed me if you knew!” jake seemed to be absolutely flabbergasted by this new information, and you weren’t in a much better state. had he feigned ignorance to see how long you could keep up the charade? had he faked his annoyance when he caught you, just to see you squirm?

“hee, how long have you known?” was all you could ask before your brother shrugged, as if he hadn't admitted something major the second before.

“i’ve known since the start. everyone except you guys knew that i knew, we all kind of had a bet going to see how long it would last before you told me…. i won, by the way. i gathered you’d wait until after your graduation.”

you spluttered as jake’s face turned beetroot red, unable to comprehend what heeseung was saying.

“listen, i’m not mad. i get it. you both thought i’d be mad, so you hid it. actually, it was kind of funny hearing you sneak jake into the house during the holidays, or watching him park down the street so i wouldn’t see him picking you up.”

you sat with heeseung a while longer, him gladly answering the bombard of questions that you and jake had for him. and slowly, you became more comfortable being touchy with jake in front of him. jake’s hand ended up on your thigh, which you ended up taking in your own. then, your legs were slung over his lap while he had an arm around your shoulder. yeah, heeseung fake gagged when jake kissed your cheek, but you knew it was all in good heart given the smile of your brother’s face.

in all honesty, heeseung was just glad you had someone to look after you. someone to love you as much as jake clearly did. he knew he couldn’t keep you wrapped up, protected from the world forever, but he truly couldn’t ask for a better boyfriend for you than jake.

eventually, you all went back to the party, deciding to enjoy the last few hours of fun before everyone had to leave and head back to their own dorms.

with a drink in your hand, and your arms around jake’s waist, you’d never felt happier. it was actually quite liberating, knowing that your brother knew and approved of your relationship, and you were grateful that you were blessed with a brother as good as heeseung.

swaying to your favorite song with jake’s arms around you, and your heart thumping in your chest, you leaned up to plant a soft kiss on his face. he grinned, returning the kiss and leant his head against yours.

“what was that for, bubba?”

“nothing in particular,” you admitted, shaking your head slightly. “just love you, that’s all.”

“i love you too, angel girl.”

taglist: join taglists here @pretty-racha

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bunnysbrainrot · 2 months

Text

Sinners - Teaser

Relationship: Sam Winchester x Reader

Content: Explicit sexual content, teasing, more kinks and details to come with the full version, nothing too warning-worthy right now?

Summary: Disguised as a priest and nun on a case, time alone with Sam back at your motel is everything but holy. The taboo of your situation has Sam dealing with some… impure thoughts. Will Sam be able to contain himself?

In the past few weeks you and the Winchesters uncovered some suspicious deaths in a remote area of Georgia. The locations of the tragedies spanned over 50 miles apart, meaning that the team had to split up to cover more ground. Dean had split from you and Sam two days ago, and the night before in the motel had been fairly normal. It seemed like Dean did this on purpose; you had drunkenly admitted to him of your affection for his younger brother.

Whether or not Sam knew of this, you had no clue. And now in your nun getup, it was all too fitting that you began to pray that Sam was unaware. The two of you calmly made your way past the yellow police tape, preparing warm smiles for a victim’s family.

Sam knocked on the door, letting out a bated breath. Weren’t nuns supposed to dress modestly? Your outfit was the proper attire, but the way it hugged your curves left too much to Sam’s imagination. It was his turn to pray that it didn’t stir too much in him, to let him keep his composure.

An older man answered the door, his expression easing at the sight of your attire. Turns out this costume was better received than you thought. You had to channel your tone and proper verbiage before speaking.

“Apologies for showing up unannounced, Mr. Peters. I’m Father Jeremy, and this is our sister from a local church.” Sam waved a hand for you to introduce yourself.

You chose to use your name, seeing that this was your first nun-appearance.

“We’re here on behalf of the church to offer support for your family, but we also have a couple of questions, if you don’t mind.”

Hopefully there were no questions about the nearest Catholic church, otherwise this whole façade would crumble. Mr. Peters’ face only softened further.

“I’m glad you’re here, Father, Sister,” he addressed you with a sad smile, “Please, come in.”

Sam stepped in first, using a beckoning finger behind him to have you follow him. The house was modest, but eloquently decorated. You recalled the murder that had happened, that brought you to this town, and shuddered. Mr. Peters’ daughter had been brutally murdered and discarded in a creek, signs indicating the presence of a vampire. Their daughter had been missing for two weeks before the time of death, which is what you and Sam aimed to discover.

“Mr. Peters, we are part of a youth outreach program at the church. Our aim is to help troubled youth, with restorative services and social connection. We were wondering if your daughter had any odd behaviors before she went missing. Perhaps she became more secluded?”

The man looked confused at first, “Odd behavior?”

Sam gave a small nod, “We notice that teenagers in need of help oftentimes become more distant with their families. Our goal is to provide better services to our youth, which does include finding the source issue.”

Mr. Peters have a small background of his daughter, admitting that she had become distant with the family. Not just that, but her anger had only worsened, amongst several harmful habits. It wasn’t uncommon for teens to become immersed in the occult and all things dark, but being surrounded by the wrong people can lead to harmful connections.

“I see,” Sam started, “and do you know what kind of people she was surrounding herself with?”

Another confused look from Mr. Peters.

You added, “This way, we’re able to identify warning signs - things to be wary of as our youth members meet new people.”

This seemed to clear things up, bringing out a detailed recount of his daughter’s recent social group. But, their social media had been recently deleted, preventing the family from getting their closure. As far as they knew, their daughter had made new friends, ran from home, and was found brutally murdered.

Sam’s eyes darted to you when you shifted in your seat, the fabric of your black dress sliding gracefully along your thighs. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but seeing you dressed up like this sent his mind spinning. The last thing he should be thinking of is taking you dressed like this, but he couldn’t shake it. His mind raced of scenarios the two of you could create, each one dirtier than the last.

But right now, the task at hand was covering the tightness of his pants. He leaned forward, the broad muscles of his arms flexing beneath his black shirt. Blush creeped onto your cheeks, much to the attention of Mr. Peters, who looked at you with concern.

“Sister, are you feeling alright?”

You nodded and gave a small wave, “Oh, I’m fine. Just a little warm is all. I apologize.”

Mr. Peters stood, “No need to apologize, let me get you some cold water. I’ll only be one moment.”

The room had gone oddly quiet paired with Sam’s intent stare at your face. You turned to find a concerned Sam inspecting you fully.

“You sure you’re okay?” He asked softly.

A slight nod, “Yeah, it’s just stuffy in this outfit.”

“Well, once we’re back at the motel we can get you out of it.”

A beat later Sam realized how that sounded. He tried to backtrack, but Mr. Peters had already returned with your glass of water, which you gratefully sipped on. It took everything in your power to resist the images that came to mind. Sam’s hands roaming your body, stripping that baggy dress off of your body, his mouth finding every nook and cranny of your neck.

Sam seemed to have taken over the conversation for the last few moments before standing. Mr. Peters had already given a short list of his daughter’s friends, and their usual hang-out spots. Your attention snapped back to reality; you placed the water glass down with a small thank you, being pulled up by Sam.

His hand could practically wrap the entirety of your arm, his grip stable and warm. Goosebumps rose on your arms, brushing against the tough fabric of your dress. The air outside carried the comfort of fall, the breeze being cool and refreshing on your hot cheeks.

At the car, Sam reached for your door to open it for you, something completely new to the both of you. You glanced up at him with wide eyes. The movements he made to reach the handle had pulled your bodies dangerously close, fully brush against his chest, pressed into the car. A inexplicable scenario that would raise a few eyebrows, for certain.

“Sorry, I just didn’t want you to trip on your dress,” breathed Sam.

Honestly, he was thankful for the little slip up - being this close to you had been a wish of his, but there had never been any excuse for it to happen. Your focus shifted from his soft, hazel eyes down to his parted lips. Sam’s attention shifted to your lips, lowering to your chest for a split second. A selfish move on his part, but the damage had already been done.

Your hand fumbled for the door handle, fingers sliding over his own. The two of you shared another longing glance before getting you into the car. Sam tucked in loose bits of your dress so the door wouldn’t snag on them.

“Alright, hands and feet it, watch out,” he whispered. You noticed how his hands fumbled more than usual, surely due to the nerves. Perhaps you had been reading this wrong, maybe you had taken things too far? Maybe you had overstepped and embarrassed him?

“Thank you,” you replied, giving him a genuine smile. Sam’s cheeks flushed, unmistakably a sign that maybe your anxieties been just that. Simple anxieties from overthinking this whole thing.

Now settled in the car, the two of you made the trip back to the motel. After stepping inside you beelined for the bathroom.

At least, until Sam’s voice stopped you in your tracks.

“Hey, could I talk to you about something?”

You turned to face him, eyebrows raised. You’d be lying to yourself if you said your heart didn’t skip a beat.

“What’s up?”

With the silence in the room, you took the cue to sit on the bed. Sam towered in comparison, his lean physique defined by the lamplight.

His voice softened, “I’m sorry about earlier. I didn’t mean to get that close, I-“

“Sam, it’s okay,” you cut him off with a laugh, “don’t worry about it. I wasn’t bothered by it.”

He relaxed his shoulders. Sam began to dig through his bag for another set of clothes.

“You look good as a priest, by the way. You sell the bit nicely,” you stated.

What you said made his heart skip a beat. Was that a compliment, or just conversation? Sam couldn’t tell, so he turned to you once more with a goofy grin on his face.

“Thanks,” his expression darkened as his eyes raked you over, “You look good as a nun.”

There was no mistaking it - he was taking his time looking over you. Your breath hitched in your throat when he turned, leaned casually against the desk your bags laid on. You transfixed on the way his hands moved around his belt buckle. Mildly fiddling, but you couldn’t help but imagine him following through.

“Not my best outfit, but thank you,” you replied. Sam pushed away from the desk, slowly stepping toward the bed where you sat, tense with every step.

“I would agree there, you’ve worn better,” he commented.

You head snapped up to meet his eyes. A surprise note of flirtation filled your voice.

“Okay, so what’s my best outfit, then?”

He scoffed, “We playing twenty questions?”

You pointed to your outfits, smirking proudly at him, “Look at our getup, man, it’s like a confessional.”

A bright laugh came out of Sam; he tilted his head back as he thought.

“My answer isn’t exactly… appropriate.”

“Sam,” you laughed, “Confessional. You gotta tell me.”

He let out a groan before lowering his head, steadily giving you his answer, “Your dark jeans, and that long sleeve shirt. The, um… the one with the v-neck, you wore it almost every day over winter.”

“And that was inappropriate?”

“It’s why I like it that’s inappropriate.”

“Okay, then, why do you like it?”

The last thing you expected was for Sam to close the distance. He stepped until he was directly ahead, arms crossed over his chest as he locked eyes with you.

“It made your ass look nice.”

His tone was surprisingly serious, like he had been thinking of this answer for a while.

“Hugs your body in the right ways. And it makes your, well, chest… look nice.”

Sam humored your shocked expression but pushing things further. If you could dish it out, he could dish it back.

“What’s my best outfit?”

As you collected yourself, Sam stepped closer, bringing a hand to your cheek. He lifted your head, hai thumb grazing over your cheek.

“It’s a confessional. You have to tell me,” he joked, earning a slight glare from you. That sour face melted away when Sam placed his hand beneath your chin. He tilted your head back to have you look at him.

Shit.

“Jeans,” you breathed, “V-neck black shirt.”

Sam leaned in, brushing his lips across your cheek. The closeness set your skin ablaze, each trailing lip and finger sending shivers up your spine.

“Is that all?” Sam whispered.

His eyes met yours once again, a startling seriousness lurking inside. You pushed past the shyness of your answer. The honesty could break the tension that had building all this time.

“Pajama pants… no shirt. When you just get out of the shower.”

Sam’s lips curled into a satisfied smile before planting a slow kiss to your cheek. He moved gradually to your jawline, sprinkling chaste kisses until his lips hovered over yours.

“Have you wanted this?” he asked.

Your frustration was intangible - a bottle that had been shaken too much, and ready to blow. He was centimeters, millimeters away from giving you what you’d truly wanted. The silence between you signified the utter defiance to give him this so easily.

“Confessional,” Sam’s voice reverberated against you, but he offered nothing to your pleading lips, “tell me, little nun, have you thought about this? Wanted my lips on yours?”

A small whine escaped you as Sam’s hand lowered to your throat, pressing softly to the tender flesh. The loss of blood flow muddled your thoughts into complete ecstasy, with no urgency to regain control. With just one move, it was clear to Sam that you were undoubtedly his.

You gave him a small nod. A low growl thundered in his chest before pressing into you further, laying you flat on the bed. Locks of chestnut hair framed your face, with a breathy Sam hovering his mouth over your neck.

“Nodding doesn’t count. You gotta use your words, sweetheart.”

Amidst the constriction on your throat you nodded and choked out a small, "Yes."

Sam's growing smile is all you need to know you've satisfied something deeper within him. Darkness floods his eyes seeing you like this, utterly at his will under his touch. If he'd known sooner that this would be the outcome, he'd have bought that nun outfit ages ago.

"That's better," he whispered.

------

Hi everyone! I know it's just a teaser for now, but I wanted to show you something I've been working on! I've also been pretty busy with work and writing for my book series, so things have been a bit busy for sure haha

I love you all, and I keep an eye out for the full version of Sinners!

#supernatural #spn fandom #supernatural smut #sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester smut #bunny writes #spn smut #smut writing #smut

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adascore · 3 months

Text

SWEET DREAM WAS OVER

pairings: lionesses x young!arsenal!reader / beth mead x arsenal!reader / vivianne miedema x arsenal!reader

warnings: swearing. reader acts hostile with viv after being knocked out of the nations league by the netherlands.

author's note: wrote this right after the match to deal with the heartbreak :(( but proud of all of them anyway!

masterlist

•••••••

December, 2023

''They scored a last-minute winner- we're out.'' The staff member read out loud, the scoresheet open on his phone.

The huddle, once filled with echoes of celebration, now hung heavy with disappointment. Their Olympic dreams were over, even after winning the match 6-0. Their win at Wembley had given them hope that they could do it, but the Dutch team pulled through, winning their fixture against Belgium 4-0.

One goal.

One goal is what it took for Y/N's world to fall apart.

Teammates exchanged glances, their eyes reflecting the shared sense of loss. The collective effort and triumphs all seemed to dissipate into the air, leaving behind a bitter taste of what could have been.

She could feel Lucy next to her falling to the ground, her older teammate groaning as she took in the news. Y/N patted her shoulder, a lame attempt at comfort.

Sarina started speaking, but she wasn't listening. Her head replayed each moment in their six matches where the young player could have made a difference, but didn't. Y/N knew deep inside that she was not solely to blame for their early exit, football is a team sport and they all had the carry the burden of ''what if”.

As the team dispersed, players walked toward the section where the dedicated fans had stood, expressing their gratitude for the unwavering support they had given them throughout their UWNL journey.

Y/N could feel an arm wrapping around her shoulders, suddenly feeling the warmth of another individual.

As she glanced aside, she smiled at who she found next to her. ''Hey, Beffy.'' The youngster mumbled.

''Hi, darling,'' The Arsenal star sounded just as dejected as she did, ''how you feeling?''

“Not good.” Y/N's usually monotone voice lacked its usual humor, a reflection of the heavy atmosphere.

The winger nodded in understanding. “I know, me too.” She pouted, sharing in the collective disappointment. ''At least we'll get a break next summer.''

''I don't want a break, I wanna play.'' Y/N immediately objected, her tone almost sounding like how a toddler would whine.

Beth remained quiet, knowing that nothing she would say could cure the current heartbreak going through her teammate at the moment. Sometimes, silence spoke louder than words.

In the midst of said silence, Beth gently squeezed Y/N's shoulder, offering a supportive presence.

The next day, the car ride back to North London wasn't the traditional gossip session it normally was. Beth carried the conversation, her younger housemate nodding or muttering a single word once in a while. As they drove through the familiar streets, Beth tried to lighten the mood with a subtle joke or two, attempting to elicit a smile from Y/N. The atmosphere in the car, however, remained heavy with the weight of the recent defeat.

The ringing of Beth's phone interrupted her thoughts on the upcoming Chelsea game, however, a soft smile appeared on her face once she saw who was calling her.

''It's Viv,'' She announced, briefly glancing at her teammate, ''hey, sweetheart.''

Y/N turned her head, attempting to admire the view, but the English weather was making it hard for her. She sighed loudly, the name of the Dutchwoman bringing her back to the group huddle of the day before.

''She's sitting next to me,'' Beth's words pulled her out of her trance, ''sure.''

The blonde tapped her arm, making Y/N turn back around. ''Hmm?'' She confusedly hummed.

''You wanna say something to Viv?'' Beth asked, sweetly.

The teenager simply shook her head, shifting in her seat so she could look out the window again.

The older one frowned at the action, expecting her to want to talk to Vivianne. ''Uh, Viv, she's sleeping, sorry.'' Beth lied, coming up with the quickest excuse she could find.

''Oh, that's okay, I'll see her soon.'' The Dutch striker answered, slight dejection audible in her voice.

They talked for a couple more minutes, but Y/N drowned their conversation out- daydreaming about the day she actually gets to play for Team GB, and winning the gold medal with them.

It was again Beth who took her out of her haze she was in. ''Hey, you okay?''

''Yeah, just tired. Don't feel like talking.'' It had been the longest sentence she had said all day.

Beth nodded understandingly, deciding not to push further, occasionally glancing at Y/N, who seemed lost in her own thoughts.

Eventually, they made it home and their chauffeur helped them with their suitcases.

As soon as they stepped into the house, Y/N swiftly retreated to her room without much interaction. Beth, sensing the weight of the recent disappointment, decided to give her space.

The house felt unusually quiet without the usual banter and laughter. Beth, while sympathizing with her need for solitude, couldn't shake off the somber atmosphere. She figured she would wait for her partner, who wouldn't arrive home for at least another hour.

Beth settled on the couch, flipping through the channels on the television absentmindedly. The sound of a key turning in the front door signaled Vivianne's arrival.

The Brit immediately got up, greeting her girlfriend with a warm embrace.

Vivianne reciprocated, sensing Beth's need for comfort. They held each other for a moment, finding solace in one another's arms.

They moved to the couch, catching up with one another and either offering each other consolation or congratulations. Vivianne noticed the lack of noise in their home- their teenage teammate usually filling the space up with whatever had happened to her that day, and if it wasn't her voice, it was the music from her speakers.

''Is Y/N taking a nap? She must have barely slept if she was already sleeping in the car.'' She asked Beth, frowning.

Her partner sighed at the question. ''Uh, no, she's just… she's having a hard time with it. She really thought we'd gone through to the final four,'' she explained, resulting in a sullen look on Vivianne's face, ''she was actually awake in the car, but she wasn't in the mood to talk.''

Vivianne's expression shifted to one of understanding, but also concern. “I get it, it's tough for her right now.”

''Maybe you can go check on her? We've been home for a while now, maybe that's helped.'' Beth suggested, believing the youngster to have come to terms with it by now, or at least more than in the car.

The striker gently knocked on Y/N's bedroom door, but there was no response. She cautiously pushed it open, finding Y/N laying sideways on her bed, scrolling on her phone.

''Hey,” Vivianne spoke softly, ''can I come in?''

Y/N didn't take her eyes off of her phone, not a single acknowledgement. ''Don't feel like talking.''

''I understand, just wanted to check how you were doing.'' The Dutchwoman sighed.

''Hmm.''

It's like pulling teeth, Vivianne thought to herself.

She hesitated for a moment before deciding to sit on the edge of Y/N's bed. Her eyes stayed fixated on the teenager, hoping to find a sign of openness or willingness to share her feelings.

''Football is cruel. We all wanted to win, and have a chance to qualify. It hurts when it doesn't happen.'' Vivianne tried her best to convey understanding, her voice gentle. ''I wish all of us could go next year.''

It was quiet for a few seconds, the uneasy tension growing. ''Yeah, but we can't.'' Y/N responded, an uncharacteristic harsh tone in her voice.

Vivianne was taken aback by the sudden change, never having heard that tone come out of the girl's mouth. ''I get it, it hurts.''

''You already got to go to the Olympics. It's not fair.''

The older woman sighed at the frustration steaming off of her younger teammate. ''I know it doesn't feel fair, but you have to keep pushing forward. There will be more tournaments, more chances.''

''I wanted to go with Beth. She didn't get to go last time.'' Y/N wasn't directly answering to what Vivianne was telling her, still present in her own world of disappointment.

The older one could sense the resentment. ''Y/N, I get it, I really do. It's not the end, though. You'll have more opportunities, and you'll get to share those moments with Beth.'' She spoke softly.

''Who even says that? The next one is in 2028, Beth might not even play by then anymore.'' The teenager retorted.

''2028 is still a possibility. She has a lot more football left in her, and I'm sure you'll get to experience all of it together.''

Y/N rolled her eyes, dismissing Vivianne's attempt at reassurance. “Just save it. Your team already ruined our chances. Don't pretend like you care about my opportunities.”

“Come on, don-“

Y/N seemed stuck in her moment of frustration. It was hard to think about the future, when the present had become such a huge letdown. ''Viv, I mean this in the nicest way possible, but can you please leave? You're just making me more upset.''

It felt equal to being slapped in the face, in Vivianne's opinion. However, she nodded and gave Y/N's foot a little pat before quietly leaving the room.

Beth noticed Vivianne emerging from Y/N's room with a weary expression. “I think I made it worse.” Vivianne admitted, sitting next to Beth on the couch.

“Why? What did you say?” Beth asked, concerned.

“That it's tough, and that I wished that all of us could go. She just thinks it's really unfair that I already went to the Olympics, meanwhile she and you have never been.” Vivianne explained, her tone dejected.

Beth furrowed her brows, a mixture of frustration and empathy in her eyes. “She's not in the mood to listen, huh?”

Vivianne nodded, “Yeah, she's being a bit… resentful, I don't know.”

The Brit wrapped her arm around her partner, pulling her in as she caressed her arms. “Just give her a bit time. She'll come around. Losing hits her hard. I think it's been a bit much with the World Cup and the Champions League.”

Vivianne agreed. “Yeah, you're right.”

As dinner time approached, the Dutchie decided to prepare a meal, hoping it might lift the heavy atmosphere in the house. She opted for Y/N's favorite dish, a small attempt to lighten her mood. However, the teenager remained in her room, showing no interest in joining them.

Beth decided to bring the plate to the youngster's room, figuring she still wasn't ready to be in other people's presence.

A soft knock on Y/N's door preceded Beth's gentle voice, “Hey, I brought you some dinner.”

Y/N, still upset but hungry, mumbled an acknowledgment.

Beth smiled, and put the tray of food on her desk. “I thought you might be hungry,” she said, trying to break the tension. “It's your favorite.”

Y/N glanced at the food, her expression softening slightly. “Thanks, Beth.”

“Viv made it.” She revealed.

The younger one chuckled. “Yeah, I figured that out pretty quickly.”

“How come?”

“It looks and smells nice.”

“Hey!” Beth jokingly slapped her arm, offended. “You liked that omelet I made you a few weeks ago.”

“I was being polite, Beffy.” Y/N said, a small grin on her face.

The offended woman rolled her eyes. “Whatever, enjoy your nice-smelling food.”

Beth lingered by the doorway, wanting to see her younger companion eat the food with her own eyes.

“You know, Viv spent quite some time making sure it's perfect.“ She spoke up once she noticed Y/N just picking at the food.

Her gaze shifted from the plate to Beth, a hint of curiosity in her eyes. “That's very sweet. I'll thank her later.”

Beth smiled, appreciating the subtle shift in her youngster's demeanor. “I'm sure she'd like that. She put a lot of care into it.”

As Y/N began to eat, Beth hesitated before speaking again. “You know, it's okay to be upset about the game. We all are. But you don't have to take it out on her.”

The teenager looked up, meeting Beth's gaze. There was a moment of vulnerability in her eyes, a silent admission that the disappointment weighed heavier than she let on. “I know,” she whispered, “it's just too much at the moment.”

“I understand, lovey,” Beth stepped away from the door, walking over to Y/N, “we're here for you, okay? You can come talk to us when you feel ready.” She pinched her cheek, hoping her affection showed her genuineness.

Y/N couldn't help but crack a small smile. “I know, Beffy. Thanks.” She mumbled between bites, grateful for the comforting presence of her older teammate.

“You can come and put your plate in the dishwasher once you're done, and maybe apologize to someone…” Her eyebrow was raised.

The Arsenal prodigy chuckled, knowing exactly who Beth was referring to. “Yeah, I will.”

“She doesn't like when people are upset with her, especially you.” Beth admitted.

“I'm not upset with her. I just wasn't ready to be told that everything would be fine and that there would be more chances to go.”

Beth smiled at Y/N's words. “She cares about you a lot, you know? I understand it was a little too early- I'm also still upset. But she meant well, she hates it when you're sad. She wasn't trying to tell dismiss your feelings or anything, she just wants to be here for you.”

Y/N sighed, appreciating her perspective. “Yeah, I know. I'll talk to her later.”

“Good. Now, enjoy your meal, and take your time.” Beth said, leaving Y/N to her dinner and thoughts.

“Does she like it?” Vivianne asked as soon as her girlfriend walked back into the dining room, eager to know the answer.

Beth nodded. “She's eating from it, and said she would thank you later.”

Her partner smiled, a mixture of relief and satisfaction crossing her features. “I'm glad. It's hard seeing her upset.”

“She's still young. You know how these young players get when they lose.” Beth noted.

“Yeah, but still. She also deserves a chance to go to the Olympics, I'm sad for her.” Vivianne knew how much the teenager worked each day, one and off the pitch.

“I know, but we knew from the start that it was only gonna be one team.”

Vivianne nodded. “I just hope she'll understand that it's not about her abilities or efforts. Sometimes, it's just the way things go in this sport.”

Beth squeezed her hand in reassurance. “She knows deep down.”

The couple started their own dinner, taking their minds off the last couple of days and just focus on one another.

It was about two hours later that the Arsenal homegrown came out of her room to go put her plate in the dishwasher- most of that time was spend trying to find the right words to apologize to her Dutch housemate.

As she walked into the living room, she could see that the tv was running, but neither half of the pair was there. Y/N hesitated for a moment, debating whether to disappear into her room again. However, she resumed her walk to the kitchen, not wanting a dirty plate in her room.

In the kitchen, she was met with Vivianne, who had her back turned while being busy trying to make tea.

The teenager awkwardly moved to the dishwasher, and put her plate in, closing it afterwards. The noise startled her teammate.

Vivianne turned around to where Y/N was standing, her hand on her heart. ''Jezus, you scared me.'' She sighed, taking a deep breath to calm herself down.

''Sorry.'' Y/N nervously smiled.

The older woman simply shook her head. ''Don't worry, you just caught me off guard.'' She chuckled.

''Oh, okay.'' The youngster cringed internally at her tense answer. Vivianne offered a smile at the kid's obvious distress, but went back to focusing on her tea-making.

The kitchen atmosphere felt slightly awkward, although it might just have been all in the youngest's mind. Y/N cleared her throat, attempting to break the silence. “Uh, thanks for the food. It was really nice.”

Vivianne turned to face Y/N, her expression softening. “You're welcome. I'm glad you liked it.”

''Uhm, Viv,'' she started fiddling with her hands, ''I'm sorry for earlier. I was upset about the outcome of the matches, but I shouldn't have taken it out on you. You and your team really deserve to go to the Olympics. I'm really sorry.''

The Dutchwoman appreciated the apology, relieved Y/N recognized her behavior. ''Thank you for saying that. I understand it's a tough situation, and I would have had a hard time with it as well, so don't worry about it.'' She told her with a warm smile.

''Thanks, Viv.'' Y/N moved from where she was standing, approaching Vivianne and wrapping her arms around the striker's waist. ''And congratulations, by the way. I'm really happy for you. You worked really hard.''

Vivianne welcomed her hug, reciprocating with a gentle squeeze. ''Thank you, that means a lot to me.''

The tension from earlier had disappeared, and Y/N could feel all the anxiety from earlier, leaving her body.

''Oh, mijn meisjes!'' (''My girls!'') Beth broke the silence, running over and joining the embrace, relieved to see Y/N having followed up on her words. ''I'm so happy to see this. Only smiley faces!'' She exclaimed, her infectious enthusiasm spreading through the room.

''Beth, we were having a moment.'' Vivianne said in a monotone voice, but with a smile on her face.

The Brit jokingly rolled her eyes. ''I'm joining your moment.''

Y/N and Vivianne gave each other a glance before speaking. ''No!''

ideas are always welcome for this series!

#woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #arsenal wfc x reader #arsenal x reader #engwnt

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grimm-writings · 1 month

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Hiiii, I would like some Dungeon Meshi headcanons please! Reader is the oldest human in the main group and they're really motherly towards them. Like they're always fretting over their well beings and acting like a doting parent. And if you want, could you also add that Chilchuck's kinda into that so he falls for them?

That's all thank you!

…ft! chilchuck x gn! reader, platonic touden party & reader

…tags! fluff, some crack, headcanon format, mild manga spoilers, reader is referred to as ‘mom’ once

…wc! 847

…notes! the way i nearly screeched in delight when i got this ask. chilfuckers i’m one of you let me in. you used they/them for the reader so i’m gonna assume this is a maternal gn reader! i hope it is for your liking ty for being my first request 🥺

Having a more wise, of age individual in the party is always a plus when you need some advice.

And when most people in the party are absolute lunatics.

You have your hands full trying to stop Laios acting recklessly in action, or doting on Marcille when her emotions get the best of her. Goodness, even Senshi has your hair going grey from how he gets sometimes!

Laios just sort of… lets your doting happen.

He can get slightly grumbly if you get too mad at him. Still, it’s not the worst thing a parental figure could do. Go easy on him!

Marcille takes psychic damage upon learning your age. She’s staring at you, at the age in your face, and taking the years into account.

It’s simply not computing. You… You should be, like, a pre-teen or something! Human ageing baffles her once again.

Still… she is incredibly receptive to you doting on her. She’s more of a carer on instinct but she finds herself falling into you whenever her spoons are low.

Senshi just sort of hits you with the “why tho” when you try fretting. It’s actually slightly frustrating. Still, you can recognise his wisdom and take a step back. He can take care of himself… most of the time.

Izutsumi… oh the dear girl.

You must have recognised the signs immediately. Her lack of table manners, her reclusive nature… she’s so young.

The girlcat was a bit prickly to any doting at first. You would probably remind her a bit too much of Maizuru for her liking.

With time, perhaps sometime after he run-in with her succubus, Izutsumi would be a bit more welcoming of how you treat her. It’s… It makes her feel nice, or whatever.

She accidentally calls you Mom once. She was mortified as Marcille squeals in delight and Laios laughs to himself. You couldn’t even ask if she thinks of you as a mother figure before she’s already stomping away to hide in a corner somewhere.

Then there’s Chilchuck. Oh, what to say about him.

You probably thought he was a young human at first too. He’s taller than other half-foots after all. Still, as soon as you even try to act maternal around him, he yells at you and tells you he isn’t a kid.

Keep your distance for a bit, and he’ll warm up to you again.

Watching you do your thing with the other party members will have him commenting that he has no idea how you can just keep up with everyone like this, and he’s the one with three kids here.

You just smile gently and reply that it helps you keep stability knowing everyone in the party is doing alright. At that, Chilchuck will give you a glance, and internalise your words.

Upon Izutsumi’s arrival into the party, Chilchuck’s perspective on you begins to alter slightly.

Initially, he respected you a fair bit. You were more like the two older co-workers constantly giving each other looks at the younger ones’ antics.

But he sees you with this child he also has to admit he’s grown attached to. You really were a natural maternal figure to Izutsumi. He watches you tend to her sometimes, a smile slowly curling on his lips.

Then he catches himself, and his blood runs cold.

…Ohhh, shit.

Chilchuck is level headed most of the time, but when he’s panicking he can’t keep his cool to save his life.

Around you, he becomes more… frantic, in a way. Lecturing others to give you a break, even if he can just have a small talk with you. If asked what’s up he’d raise his voice defensively and say it doesn’t matter.

One time, Izutsumi decided she can’t choose between her two favourite human heaters, and practically forced you and Chilchuck to sleep on either side of her. Even with the girl slotted in between you two, Chilchuck was internally losing his mind at the closeness.

He even lets you dote on him a bit more again. Not too much, though. He’ll accept the occasional checking in and headpat but that’s it!

You can very easily pick up on his feelings for you. It’s not hard to notice the shift in his attitude.

Well… It’s not like you can complain. You may offer to help him out with his future shop once you’re out of here, giving him a slight wink.

Cherish how red his face gets. He won’t let anyone else embarrass him so easily. Maybe pinch his cheeks if you’re feeling brave, but he may swat you away depending on his mood.

At the end of the day, he’ll give you a small smile, and wonder aloud where the Hell all the party would be if it weren’t for you.

(Bonus! I think Falin would also super appreciate your presence. She’s the kind to simply take her own parents’ treatment of her and shrug it off in a ‘it is what it is’ sort of way. Your doting attitude would leave her slightly discombobulated, but she’s very welcome to it.)

#✮ grimm's fics!#chilchuck #chilchuck tims #chilchuck x reader #chilchuck tims x reader #chilchuck tims imagines #chilchuck imagines #dungeon meshi #dungeon meshi imagines #dungeon meshi x reader #delicious in dungeon #delicious in dungeon imagines #delicious in dungeon x reader #laios touden #marcille donato #senshi of izganda #izutsumi #falin touden

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setsugekka · 1 year

Text

❥5 weeks (m)

↳ In which a freelancing stylist gig puts you between a rock and a hard place.

The rock being ‘never slept with a client before and not looking to start now,’ and the hard place being a younger than you and much too daring for his own good, Jung Wooyoung.

jung wooyoung x older stylist fem!reader — coworkers to lovers, mutual pining, porn with plot, explicit sexual content. [12.1k wc] cws: unspecified age gap!! they’re both down atrocious but he is the one making all the moves, mutual masturbation, a metric fuckton of dirty talking, praise, humiliation, pet names including ‘mommy,’ and the use of ‘noona’ but really it’s his kink and not hers (a drop of ‘daddy’ too but it’s more for comedic purposes than anything), drop of a breeding kink (also kinda comedic), oral sex (m+f), unprotected penetrative sex, creampie, wooyoung has a Big Dick and is wildly kinky and confident.

“Oh, give me a break!”

Shoulder sling of your bag dropping from you in exasperation and barely caught by your hand as to not allow your belongings to fall to the floor, you roll your eyes briefly towards the man informing you of the terrible news of the day. Of the month.

“Are you kidding me? This isn't what my contract said.”

“It sort of is,” the man reluctantly replies, avoiding eye contact that he knows will not help make the situation any better for either of you. “Blah blah blah 'in the event of a personnel shift then we have the freedom to place you wherever we need you.”

You knew, you were lying in hopes of being able to get out of it.

Unfortunately, when you took the job and signed the contract, you did know that this would be a likely outcome. Freelance stylists were able to choose three groups of which they had preference in working for throughout the show — bigger groups come with their own stylists and full slots majority of the time, but occasionally need additional hands on, which is where you come in. Smaller groups have less on board staff and require more freelance help on set — also where you come in, although, not ideally.

Of the six groups on broadcast, you had worked with four. three you enjoyed, they went on the list of preferences.

The one that you didn't enjoy working with, along with the other that you hadn't become acquainted with, were left off. Nothing against them, just better to play it safe with what you're familiar with.

And now you have to find out which group you got assigned for the next five weeks.

Slinging your bag back onto your shoulder with a huff, you thank the man for his time even in spite of not really being all that thankful, and make your way down the white walled hallway, the names of groups you're familiar with passing you by — slowing down as you pass the ones you had wished to work with and happily waving towards the members as you carry on — it's a brief relief, you'll still get to see them and have fun with them, just not as much as you would have given alternate circumstances.

And then you reach the room number, 3B.

ATEEZ.

Squinting slightly, you recall that you're actually not completely unfamiliar with them, and happily, they're not the group you didn't enjoy working with. You already know the names of everyone in the group, and you think you remember doing some behind the scenes broadcast work when they were still in their first year, albeit, not much.

It could have been worse.

Walking into the room, you first introduce yourself to the entire lot of people, then focus towards managers and the other stylists — all very welcoming and happy to receive the help, it seems.

Then, the members.

All of them gathered around, clamoring to accommodate you in such an overwhelming way that you can't hardly make out a single word being said one way or another, Hongjoong finally shushes the rest to get a word in edgewise and calmly welcomes you on board, along with apologizing in advance for whatever it is that may take place as a result of working with the lot.

You don't know what he means by it exactly, but you're familiar with working with boy groups — some things are pretty standard across the board. The dirty jokes, the messiness, the crudeness — if you're lucky, it mostly ends there, immature young men just trying to fit in having a good time in the midst of their otherwise busy schedules — you're used to giving it a pass.

But you sift through your mental rolodex of stories that you've heard about groups through the grapevine — water cooler among stylists type talk — and fail to land on anything in particular about them.

When it comes to this sort of stuff, no news is good news.

The boys scatter back to where they had come after the warm welcomes, and you dart your head around in an attempt to find a place to put your personal belongings. Truthfully, the room is small for the amount of people in it, and you're seemingly the last to join the crew. You wish not to place your purse down on the floor next to the door, but without another option at hand, you resign yourself to the fact that this will have to make due. Phone and wallet sticking out of the top, you kneel down to scoot the items against the wall when a strong hand comes from the side, taking you by the wrist. It's gentle even in it's abruptness, and takes you by surprise all the same.

“Sorry, didn't mean to scare you,” he says, quickly letting go of you but remaining in his knelt position next to you. “Don't put it there, I got a place.”

Eyebrows furrowing at the words, and the implications, you cock your head to the side before responding to him. “Problem with thieves? I mean, I know it's a pirate concept—“

“Oh, very funny!” he says, matching your playfully mocking tone with wide eyes. “No, but the door has loose hinges and if someone comes through that thing fast enough it's going to destroy everything you've got in there.”

Come to think of it, you had noticed that upon entry. Not as funny as what you had said, though.

The both of you stand, your items in hand again, and he leads the way towards a small area of the room that he appears to have made out for himself. It's simple: two folding chairs, one for sitting, and one to serve as a table, with his food already set out on it — the man points towards under the table-chair. “Put it there.”

“Thank you.”

“Do you know my name?” he asks, no discernible tone to it, but you can't recall an idol ever asking you the question outright — especially knowing that you're a freelancer.

You watch him only break eye contact with you long enough to seat himself back down, taking his lunch into his hands and nodding towards the makeshift platform, communicating to you that he wishes for you to use the chair for its intended purpose now.

“Is this a test? Or some kind of, I don't know—“ you pause, leaning back comfortably. “Am I like, supposed to?”

And he laughs in response, a sudden chuckle as if not having expected the retort at all. You watch him wipe his mouth with a napkin and take a sip of his drink before settling in to respond to the comment. “No, I was just curious because I wouldn't introduce myself again if you already had. I'm Woo—“

“Wooyoung, I know who you are.”

“Wow, all of that just for you to already know who I am?” he questions, wide eyed again — you can tell that he's enjoying the banter between the two of you. You'd be lying if you had said you weren't doing the same. “Enjoy playing games, is it?” he asks.

Typically, you would say no. But right now?

There had been a handful of idols that you had worked with over the years where the two of you hit it off naturally, comfortably. A welcomed lack of professionalism in an area of work that didn't normally allow for any room for it, being able to meet people that truly allowed for you to simply be yourself — it made going to the job everyday just that much easier.

“So,” you begin, not wanting to allow the conversation to die down as the man with the two-toned hair in front of you continues his meal with all eyes on you as you speak. “Who has the problem head in this group?”

“Problem head? “ Wooyoung exclaims, having never heard the verbiage before.

“Yeah, like who is going to be the biggest issue. Who doesn't wash their hair like a normal person or never brushes it or whatever.”

“Oh!” he yells, finally having caught on, and wipes his mouth with the napkin again before pointing across the room and loudly calling out towards another member. “It's Seonghwa! It's 100% Seonghwa! Never seen that man brush his hair in my life!”

Laughing, you turn to look behind you at Seonghwa seated in front of a mirror, another stylist going to work on his hair — roughly, at that — and as you make eye contact with a Seonghwa who is shaking his head, you move your eyes up and towards the stylist behind, solemnly nodding in accordance to Wooyoung's claims.

You turn back, Wooyoung shoving more food into his mouth. “Told you,” he mumbles between chews. “You got a boyfriend?”

You had let the conversation die down, and just as quickly, Wooyoung sparks it up again, still gnawing on the chicken in his mouth as he gets the words out.

“No,” you carefully reply, question lacing your tone that the man is sure to pick up on, but he only grins, swallowing, wiping and leaning forward towards you so that he doesn't have to carry his voice in more than a whisper.

“Good.”

By the end of the first week, you had a good idea that you might have sex with this guy.

On a surface level, you weren't too thrilled with the prospect, though. In all of your years working in the industry, you had never crossed that line. You knew colleagues who had, and worked with idols that regularly did, but despite not being morally or fundamentally opposed to the idea, it seemed better for everyone to just not. It was easy enough, usually. You had met some people that you had hit it off with and sure, the thought had crossed your mind occasionally — the sneaking 'what if' of a fling with someone, but it never felt especially in grasp. You weren't going to go out of your way to make it happen, and as far as you could tell, no one else had on their end, either.

Until now.

An entire week of friendly banter and heavy flirting that only came on stronger and stronger with each day, it's the first friday when you have Wooyoung in your chair and hair in your hands that the glances shared felt especially loaded.

Pulling on his hair slightly at a particularly tricky knot, you apologize, watching him wince vaguely in the reflection — only for him to glance up from his phone with a half grin and a wicked pointedness to his eyes.

“It's fine, I like it.”

And you want to be able to ignore it. Ignore the implications of the words. Feeling foreign eyes on you, your vision quickly darts over to make contact with Hongjoong's — seated next to the two of you and being dealt with on his own. He chuckles under his breath, having overheard the comment, and you pull on Wooyoung's hair again, this time on purpose.

A silent insistence for him to behave.

“How old are you, noona?” Hongjoong suddenly asks from beside you, eyes glued back down to his phone screen, and you're not sure why he's asking.

You have your suspicions, though.

“Older, old enough,” you respond. It pulls another chuckle from the leader of the group.

“Makes sense,” he says, finally receiving the go ahead to get up from the chair after having been finished with. “He likes that. Good luck with this one.”

Feeling heat rush to your face, and not particularly enjoying the fact that everyone in the room seems to be in on the situation at hand, you look back at Wooyoung in the reflection: still grinning with not a care in the world related to the topic.

'Play it cool,' you tell yourself with a deep inhale. “You do this often? Flirt with your stylists?”

“I wouldn't say often,” he responds plainly. “It's not unheard of, though.”

“You run off a lot of stylists?” you laugh, playfully pulling at his hair again.

“No,” he says, a certain cuteness taking his tone before leaning his head back against the headrest and looking up at you directly. “They don't run off.”

You want to be better. Stronger. Able to ignore it. Not to be like them, you don't flirt with idols you work with and you certainly don't sleep with them, either.

But you're guessing Wooyoung has plans for that, as well.

On the next Wednesday when filming runs late, with the majority of the staff having left, Wooyoung, Yunho and Yeosang are kept behind to refilm some shots. For only three members needing attention, and the normal staff for the group having to accompany the rest to their other schedules, you're left in charge of the three — along with their managers.

Which is simple enough: Yeosang, as off the wall nutty as he is, is relatively easy to work with, and Yunho being so kind and willing to do whatever it takes to make your job easier, you're only left with the one problem-child, as it were.

When filming for the three finally wraps at a quarter past one in the morning, you thank everyone for their time and willingness to accommodate you as they all head out to meet up with the rest of the members...until a PD comes in last minute once again and requests for another shoot for Wooyoung.

“It's fine, I'll catch up with you guys later,” he tells the rest, including his manager — tired and worn no doubt from a hectic schedule of, well, managing Wooyoung.

“How are you going to get home?” you ask him, confused about his dismissal of his handler as he hurriedly shakes his black and blonde hair free of the half ponytail it had been put into as they were leaving.

“I know how to get home, I'm an adult,” he laughs in response.

“I mean with the fans.”

“Oh,” he pauses, slipping on the shoes from wardrobe that they had had him in prior. “That's easy to deal with, honestly. Already scoped out the escape!”

For some reason, you don't even question that to be the truth. It sounds like something he would have already had planned.

“Are you leaving now?” he asks, rushing out towards the hallway, only lingering in the doorway long enough to catch your response.

And you know that deep down, you should — that the best way to avoid trouble, and subsequently Wooyoung, is to leave while he's caught up, with no chance of roping you into some nonsense that you wish you didn't want to be roped into.

But at the same time...what could it hurt?

What's a little adventure?

And the way that his lips curl at the response is devilish — has you second-guessing your choice already. Evidently, a man with an extremely devious plan that he has every intention of putting into action with the older stylist that he barely knows anything about.

Suddenly, you recall Hongjoong's words just a few days prior. A warning. 'Good luck.'

“Be back soon!” Wooyoung chimes, “and then we can get out of here.”

As if the 'we' wasn't bad enough, it's the way his bottom lip catches on his teeth as he exits the room, eyes locked with your own before disappearing into the madness of idol life once again.

You had sort of hoped that something would have come up that barred this scenario that you had originally agreed to. Now darting and weaving through dark, empty hallways of the entertainment building — quite possibly the last people in there that night besides overnight security, when Wooyoung finally brings you to the VIP entrance that he had briefly mentioned before, dual hearts sink at the sight just beyond the large, glass doors.

Pouring rain — unable to be heard from inside of the massive concrete building, but now plain as day in front of you, Wooyoung huffs at the sight, scanning the scattered construction equipment also littering the outdoors — not taken into account, but now definitely hurting the escape plan that had already been set into action.

“I guess we just make a run for it,” Wooyoung sighs, raking his fingers through his hair. “This wasn't really part of the plan, you know.”

“I gathered, but—“ you pause, bringing his attention down to the three bags of your heavy and also quite expensive belongings that you would rather not get soaking wet. “I'm not running anywhere, not well, at least.”

He huffs again, looking up again to stare back out of the window pane. “Well, we can't stay here, don't think we have much of a choice.”

You had already accepted the fact, but hearing the words only causes a pleading sigh to drop from you. “Yeah...where are we running towards, anyways? What's the plan?”

Bringing a hand up, Wooyoung points out towards what appears to be just large equipment for moving and storing concrete and other such things, before elaborating further.

“Across the parking lot and then across the street there's a small, 24-hour convenience store where we can wait and call a cab.”

“How is that safe?” you question, dumbfounded. “How is it safe for you to be seen running around in convenience stores in the middle of the night with a random woman?”

“No one is going to see us, first of all, the weather is terrible and no one knows about this exit,” he begins, “second of all, my friend owns the place, so we'll hang out in the employee lounge until it's time to go.”

You visibly frown at the plan, still worried about your work items, but Wooyoung catches it — gently placing his hand on your wrist just as he had the first time the both of you met.

“We'll...figure it out, okay? Trust me. But we gotta get out of here before security calls security.”

Darting through the doors, Wooyoung holds your hand tightly into his as the two of you slosh through the downpour of the great outdoors — cold and windier than you both had anticipated, when the wind catches you and the bulkiness of your belongings just right, Wooyoung tightens his grip even more as he feels you veer off of the trail. You call out to him once, pulling your things against you as best as you can and he only calls back, “I know!” before finding some sort of shelter where you can hide for the time being.

And once inside, you realize how cramped it is.

It's a totally spur of the moment decision obviously, and not much else to work with, you know this — crammed face to face between two metal sheets in an otherwise packed construction shed — but you're able to shrug your bags off of your shoulder and push them to the side with your foot to grant you a bit more space as you attempt to wring out your hair, dress, and cardigan.

Eventually, when Wooyoung comes back to mind, you look up at him — thin, wet, t-shirt clinging to every curve and dip of the muscle in his chest, hair windswept and just as wet as everything else — and you try not to take notice, or allow your eyes the freedom to trail down, because you remember that he left in sweatpants, and that's plenty good enough to go off of.

But with not much space between you and the hastiness in which you arrived, Wooyoung's thigh ends up not so gently crammed just between your legs.

You notice. You can't help but to notice, you can only hope that he doesn't.

However unlikely that may be.

The first violent shiver of the cold air taking the wetness of your body, you insist that Wooyoung ignores, and he does, at your request — but by the second, he's not so willing to listen to orders.

Taking you by the wrist, the man pulls you forward and against him, your hands only able to catch yourself on his shoulders to keep from falling completely flat against his body, and you have no choice but to force down the sound that being pulled up and along his leg threatens to elicit.

'Bite it back, bitch,' you tell yourself in thought.

“Don't be difficult, it's freezing out here,” Wooyoung finally says, wrapping his arms around your waist to keep you pressed into him. “Keeping you from catching pneumonia isn't really my go-to move.”

You chuckle, the only thing you can do at the ridiculousness of the situation. Turning to look outside as the rain beats loudly against the shed that the both of you take shelter in, Wooyoung shifts again, causing the top of his thigh to press upwards and harder against you. Eyes screwing shut, you try to steady your breathing — it's so dumb, you think as the situation unfolds, feeling like a teenager who can't keep it in her pants but in a situation where it otherwise wouldn't be an issue if it weren't for the fact that the hot guy that you work with — who almost definitely wants to fuck you — is currently lodged against your pussy with either not a clue and therefore doesn't have the knowledge to keep still, or very much aware and no interest in keeping still.

You didn't even really want to know which one it was, you just had to wait for the rain to lighten up.

“Hey.”

You turn your head to match Wooyoung's gaze, air finally drying out his hair a bit to leave it more air dried than soaking wet. He looks good, you hate that.

“You ever hook up with anyone you worked with?”

Mind reader? Gross.

You choose to ignore the implications, answering in a way that doesn't satiate the curiosity that he's hoping for. “Yeah, I used to date a guy who worked for the same company I did before I went freelance.”

“That's not what I mean,” Wooyoung frowns. Of course he wouldn't let you get away with it. “I mean an idol. The talent.”

Clearing your throat, you find that your proximity to Wooyoung that once offered a comforting warmth was now emitting far more of a scalding heat, and with your palms pressed to his shoulders, you manage to free yourself from him slightly, back against the metal sheet behind you and creating space between you and the nosy man just in front of you.

“No, I have not.”

“Why not?”

“I don't know!” you snap, not angry but unsure of what it is that he's fishing for. “Just...never been in a situation where that was a realistic thing that could happen, I guess. It's not really something that I seek out. I'm there to work.”

“You've never wanted to?” Wooyoung then says, tone dropping slightly and a small shift of his leg. It's enough that you can ignore it, but with your face fully visible to him now, you're not sure how much you can fake it if he starts to catch on and get braver. “Never desired someone?”

He's extremely perceptive.

“And what about you?” you ask back, table turned to grant you some proverbial breathing room. “Hongjoong sure made it seem like this was the sort of thing you do often.”

“Hongjoong is terrible at keeping his mouth shut, that much is for sure,” Wooyoung chuckles, then reaching forward with one hand and finding the hem of your dress — pressed up the length of your thigh only slightly due to his own having your legs agape. “But he is right, I do like older women.”

“So you just hit on every stylist that comes into contact with you?” you laugh, trying to ignore the burning sensation of his fingers playing with the cloth on your thigh, or the way that his eyes are smoldering and locked onto you.

“No, of course not, I'd have had a reputation that you'd have heard of by now if that were the case.”

That was true.

“So no, hitting on the stylist isn't a first for me, if you must know,” he adds coyly, hand now slowly sliding up and against your bare skin. You freeze against his touch. Is this really happening? Here? Now?

“I play with a lot of them for fun, and they play with me, but rarely does it leave the fitting room.”

You swallow hard, and when he shifts again suddenly you aren't prepared — his words, his touch, it's all too distracting for when the press against you comes — breath hitching in your throat for a split second before biting your lip in an attempt to pull the involuntary reaction back.

Too late, though.

Wooyoung looks down, seeing the positioning of his leg between your own and finally makes the connection with a devilish grin — looking up at you from through eyelashes, he hums in response, hand that had once begun a journey up your leg now stilled at the outer side, fingers playfully dipping into the elastic of your panties as if having a plan in mind all along.

“Oh, I see,” he sing-songs at you, deliberately pushing up and into you for the first time, and it certainly makes the difference — your head falling back against the steel lightly. “You know it's funny, I genuinely did not mean to do that.”

“Don't laugh,” you sigh out, now on your last leg of having the composure to not give in to him, and to yourself. “I'm not going to have sex with you, I don't have sex with clientele.”

Humming again, the man begins a steady, slow pace of flexing his thigh up and against you, hand coming around to feel what he can of you that isn't taken up by the space of his leg, and with his fingertip only finding slick wetness that water doesn't have, he smiles again.

“Fine,” he responds with a tone that's only just above a whisper. “But I can still make you come.”

“Shut up,” you whimper out, knowing that your resolve is falling away with every second that you're near him and even faster with every word that he says. You say that you won't fuck him, but truth be told: you're not completely convinced of it yourself. “I—, I—“ you attempt to say, always cut off by the way he feels against you, and even distracted by the lone finger that gently rubs at you from the side as best as he can.

You open your eyes, an attempt to come back down to earth from how quickly you're giving yourself up to this man, but your eyes immediately drop to catch the protrusion in his sweatpants — still wet and fabric clinging to the girth, you swallow hard and bring your eyes back up fast.

That knowledge was the last thing you needed if you were to make any sort of strong attempt not to have sex with him.

“Like what you see?” Wooyoung says playfully, a nod to the silly line often heard in comedies or pornography.

Unfortunately, you do.

You feel him shifting again, having to mull up the braves to allow your eyes to fall back down that way to find out what it was he was up to, and once the courage is mustered, you grant it to yourself.

It was a mistake.

“God,” is all you whisper out at the sight — Wooyoung's beautiful hand wrapped loosely around himself, lazily stroking in time with the ministrations of his leg up and against you, and it's all just a little bit too much.

“Watch,” he says, this time no jest in his voice and the pace of his thigh picking up just slightly. “You don't want to watch me?”

In the moment, you think that you would literally not ever want to watch anything other than that ever again.

Eyes coming back down, first to meet his own — half-lidded and mouth slightly parted, a beautiful sight before you, the visual of him palming over himself for your viewing pleasure — getting off on nothing else but the sight of you riding his leg.

The visual serves to be more stimulating than you'd have liked to admit, feeling the familiar bubbling in your abdomen, you try to find something that you can brace your hands on to give yourself more leverage — since the both of you are now resigned to letting this moment play out — and Wooyoung catches on quickly, choking out a “use me,” between steady, rhythmic pumps of his fist along himself.

You lean forward, hands on his shoulders again — now able to feel him work himself beneath you as you rut against his leg and if you weren't already so worked up, you might have been embarrassed about how quickly your orgasm approaches you.

“W—Wooyoung, I—“

“Good, good girl,” he groans, rhythm of his arm beginning to give out at the implications of your orgasm fast approaching, but it's the next words that truly wreck you. More than you may have ever anticipated outside of that singular moment in time.

“Use me.”

And it breaks you. Orgasm washing over you — it's not particularly hard or overwhelming, the circumstances not exactly granting themselves to having an earth shattering sexual experience, but Wooyoung follows you shortly after — high pitched whine escaping him as his eyes screw shut, ropes of cum painting his fisted fingers as he gently finishes himself just next to you.

Taking his messy hand from himself and into your own, you bring it up and to your lips, the man before you catching on quickly despite a hazy come down and shortened breath; two of his fingers part your lips and press inside shallowly at first, then slightly deeper as he feels the way that your tongue wraps around him to clean his cum from them.

All the while with unbroken eye contact, when Wooyoung finishes imagining the way that your mouth would feel around his cock, he snorts, pulling his hand from you and grinning.

“Nah,” he begins, gently attempting to dislodge himself from between your legs. “You're definitely going to fuck me.”

With two weeks down after that late night stuck in the rain, without so much as a single sly comment about the goings on of that evening, you resign yourself to the understanding that he had gotten the interest out of his system.

And you suppose now, with the imminent danger of potentially going where you've never gone before and crossing that line, you can admit to yourself that deep down, you're a little disappointed in that fact. He had made quite the compelling case, after all.

And a beautiful cock, at that.

You do, however, find it charming that his behavior never really changes towards you. Even in spite of the bizarre intimacy that comes with watching the other come without having ever so much as shared a kiss, Wooyoung plops himself into your stylist chair just as he always has — hair a mess and tank top a bit too loose for your liking given your coming to terms with not ever having sex with him, you allow yourself one good look across the expanse of skin he's happy to show, and even with knowing that he sit in the reflection watching your eyes rake over him with a slight curl of his lip, you still can't help yourself.

Besides, what's one more good look? It's not the only part of him you've seen.

Tapping on his phone as you begin brushing into his hair from behind, Wooyoung asks you how you are today, just as normal. No suspicious tone, seemingly no ulterior motive.

“The same as always, how are you?” you respond, still tugging at the strands.

“Better now that I get to see my work wife,” he quickly responds, as if the entire premise of the conversation had simply been a set up for him to lay this one on you.

And if his intent was to trip you up, you were ashamed at how well it worked, freezing up instantly just before shaking it loose and carrying on. “Work wife? Is it okay that you joke like that?”

“Why not?” Wooyoung chuckles, looking up at you through the reflection of the mirror in front. “Also, your legs look crazy in those jeans.”

Heat rushing to your face, not wanting to look to either side at whether or not another stylist or member is listening in on the conversation, you lean down toward him and rush to a whisper. “Okay you definitely can't say that!”

“Of course not,” Wooyoung whispers back, turning his head just an inch to nearly meet your skin with his mouth. “Let me see you.”

Instantaneously, you pull back from him — back into working position and fight back the embarrassment of what's taking place. Wooyoung only grins again, looking back down to his phone and not pushing the topic any further.

When the guys begin exiting the room one by one to begin shooting, Wooyoung exits last, but not before stuffing his hand into the back pocket of your pants and maintaining a knowing eye contact with you for far too long.

You want to think that he left something in your pocket, but knowing him, just wanting to touch your ass isn't a possibility you can completely write off.

When the rest of the staff leave besides the other stylists, you manage to pull away just enough to check your pocket, feeling the presence of a small slip of paper — clearly what Wooyoung had intended on you finding, with a phone number scribbled on it. Nothing else.

Sure, you wish to be stronger than to give into the allure of the sexy, younger guy that you work with, but you'd be lying to yourself if you said that you weren't delighted at the prospect that he had not, in fact, lost interest just yet.

>you: hey, it's me.

It's all you send. Playing it cool and not at all desperate being paramount in this exchange now in order to maintain your dignity.

After all, you said you wouldn't have sex with him and now here you are, texting him knowing fully well that that is precisely what he's after. Perhaps you just needed a push in the right direction, but not without being able to feign a lack of interest, first.

It's only fifteen minutes later that he responds, and given you know they're recording, you expected it to be longer.

>big trouble: who is this? who is me?

You roll your eyes, but immediately move to reply.

>you: you know who, the woman whose ass you just groped so that I would contact you.

The signal of his typing pops up just as quickly.

>big trouble: you'll have to be more specific :p

He begins typing again.

>big trouble: kidding, what do you have me saved as in your phone? don't use my name!!

>you: oh darn I actually had it saved as group name plus full name and flashed it around when you replied, is that going to be a problem?

You become hyper aware of how you're smiling at your phone in the presence of other people, you try to bite it back as to not raise any awareness, but relatively unsuccessful in doing so.

He is so fucking charming, and fuck if you didn't enjoy his company.

A few more minutes pass before he begins typing again, close to ten when a response finally comes through.

>big trouble: sorry replies are gonna be spotty until we get out of here. let me see you.

You realize now, upon him saying it to you again — that you're not even entirely sure of what he means by that. See you: naked? Date? Outside of here? Too many options to just assume, but you also hate to ask — stomach bubbling with anxiety at the prospect of what it could mean, you realize that even you have to figure out just what, exactly, your intentions are with this guy.

But if you want to know something, all you can do is ask.

>you: what do you mean “see me”

Immediate typing again.

>big trouble: not at work, preferably with your legs over my shoulders and my face buried in your pussy.

Locking your phone you immediately press it face down and into the couch cushion next to you. Inhaling deeply, you close your eyes for a second to recollect yourself; steady breathing, and desperately trying to ignore the ache growing between your legs from just a single line of text.

You feel your phone vibrate again and can't even be sure you're ready to read whatever insane thing he's sent next, but suppose you can't just leave him on read. Not on that note.

Not when you're particularly interested in the proposition yourself.

Slowly picking your cell back up, carefully looking around to make sure no one can spy in — now not necessarily about it being who you're texting but generally speaking sexting is frowned upon in professional settings — you illuminate the screen to confirm that the incoming message is indeed, from him.

You open it.

>big trouble: i'm flexible though, actually hope you are too <3

Sick with how you can hear his tongue in cheek tone even through text, you get it together enough to finally begin typing out a response — not entirely sure what to say, given you don't necessarily want to agree to doing anything with the man just yet, and especially not like this.

>you: is that a good idea?

With some time having passed since his reply, you know that he's probably off working again — setting your phone down you exhale heavily, leaning your head back against the couch.

But all you can think about is Wooyoung's sandwiched between your thighs.

The buzzing from your phone brings you back, and you open it in more of a hurry than maybe you would have liked — much too eager to find the next insane thing that the man has to say to you.

>big trouble: oh no it definitely isn't

>big trouble: that's kind of the fun of it though

>big trouble: get into a little trouble with me, but i'll make it worth your time if you let me

You don't doubt him for even a second. Another text comes in.

>big trouble: I think you want to play with me, like a little bit

In the moment, the only thing that you can offer in response is that you'll think about it, still not completely willing to give yourself up to the desire of having him, or letting him have you — an obvious conquest of sorts on his end, of which he seemingly stacks up notches on his bed post — but you need time to decide if you're willing to make peace with being just that in exchange for getting what it is that you want from him, anyways.

Mutually beneficial? Absolutely. You just have to decide if the juice is worth the squeeze.

Two days out from wrapping filming, backstage is hectic — corridors lined with people running back and forth, darting in and out of rooms and racks of clothing and shoes serving as a make shift obstacle course everywhere you go, it's nothing you're not used to, and despite working for ATEEZ as a group, in ways you found yourself assuming the position as Wooyoung's handler in particular — occasionally Hongjoong's as well, enjoying his quips and stories as sort of an old soul in the body of a young man who took comfort in placing himself in otherwise awkward scenarios between you and the man you were almost definitely going to have sex with — you could only assume that Hongjoong had caught wind, and not because Wooyoung told him, but because he was quick on the uptake.

And he found it humorous.

Winding through the halls pushing the both of them out and ahead of you towards where they need to go, it's Hongjoong first who greets the senior idol exiting their dressing room to the left, then Wooyoung, and then you.

But you know them already.

One of the idols of the groups that you already get on with quite well, it's a friendly greeting, and you certainly can feel Wooyoung watching it all too intently — as if trying to poke a hole in a story once told to him in fabrication.

Saying your goodbyes, the three of you push forward again, not long before reaching just back stage and to your destination. You pull Hongjoong first, doing some last minute touches on his hair and eye makeup before sending him on his way, then Wooyoung — pouting like a baby as you press fingers into the sides of his hair that had fallen and now needed retouching.

“Oh geez, what?” you huff out quietly, thankful for the goings on around you that no one would hear you even if any one had time to stop and eavesdrop on the conversation.

“You two were cozy, huh?” he says — playfully, but you think it might be a ruse.

Wiping excess hair wax from his temple and shoving a clip into your mouth due to lack of hands, you look him dead in the eyes. “Wooyoung, I haven't slept with him, oh my God—“ you exasperate, slicking more product into his head, “and even if I had, none of your business.”

You watch as his eyes narrow, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth at your bitter words and begins to curl his lips into a smile just before telling him that he's finished and to go do his job.

“I know,” he says under his breath, leaning forward momentarily. “Was just hoping to hear the story if there was one.”

It's sinister in tone, like he's already getting off a little on the prospect of hearing about you getting fucked by another man, and the more you think of it in that split second, the less you would even be surprised if that had been the case. But Wooyoung continues to look at you as he steps backwards and towards where it is he needs to go — a display of power, in ways.

You're not sure you could run this guy off if you tried.

Hours later into the evening and close to midnight, you just about finish packing up your things, placing bags by the door next to all of the other stylists and managers items also eager and ready to head off and get rest before the last day of filming before you catch from the corner of your eye — phone laid out on the table and face up, illuminated in the dim lighting of a room soon to no longer be occupied for the day. Stretching your arm out and reaching towards it, almost immediately you recognize the length of name on the screen that alerts you of who it is that's contacting you.

You glance around yourself, just to be sure.

>big trouble: let me see you tonight.

Stomach jumping into your chest, to say yes to him is a big step. You're aware that at any point in time you can rescind said yes, but all the same — even just the logistics of getting him into your place to begin with comes with it's own set of worries and challenges and truth be told; you hadn't put any thought into such a plan.

But you still kind of wanted to.

>you: how?

He begins typing just as quickly as your response sends.

>big trouble: i'll take my managers car, just say yes if it's yes don't worry about the rest.

Realistically you know that it's him on the line. Sure, it wouldn't look great for you as a freelancer if it started getting around that you take home men from work, but not nearly the same career expectations are in place. You take a second to mull it over before attempting to respond. He sends another text through in the meantime.

>big trouble: please if I have to see you in those jeans again and not suffocate in your cunt I think i'll fucking die.

You appreciate his eagerness, as does the throb between your legs in anticipation. He sure knows how to talk to a lady.

And despite the reluctance, you give in, sending over your address in the next text, along with the demand that if he not be there by 12:30am to not bother showing up at all, it's a long work day the next one, after all.

An immediate reply again, you pull your bags onto your arms and head out of the doorway before reading his response.

>big trouble: I have every intention of putting you to sleep.

When 12:18am ticks on the oven clock in your kitchen, one glass of wine down in anticipation and an attempt to calm your nerves, you start to assume that he's not coming. Perhaps he had come to his senses, or got held up and wasn't able to make it.

But just as suddenly as the thought comes to you, a buzzing on your door sounds, and your heart drops to your stomach — bubbling in anxiety and the possibility of what's going to happen now. Now that the both of you will be properly alone. Now that...he's here, and with hours to spare.

Setting the glass down onto the table, you clear your throat and make your way towards the door, checking the peep hole despite knowing precisely who it is that you will find — it's charming, in a way: Wooyoung standing there in baseball cap and mask, heavily bundled in an attempt to not be found out on his naughty little rendezvous. He's brave, you gotta give it to him.

Opening the door slowly, Wooyoung slips in, pulling both adornments from his head before you're even able to close the door completely, then moving to kick his shoes off. He looks at you, shrugging his jacket off and placing it onto the rack just next to him.

“I can't believe you're still wearing those fucking jeans.”

And as taken aback as you are by it being the first words to leave his mouth upon entering your apartment, more than that, you're taken by being immediately pushed back and towards the couch — his eyes flat and narrow and completely darkened by lust as your behind eventually finds the cushion and Wooyoung immediately falls to his knees between your legs.

Pulling himself up and beginning to grapple with the button and zipper of your jeans, he leans up and finally kisses you — for the first time, you're reminded again — plush, hot lips messily pressing into your own, it's evident just in that contact alone how much he's been wanting this moment, greedy and quick and not at all making a point of taking his time before pulling away to loosen the fabric from your legs and toss it elsewhere on the floor beside him.

Wooyoung comes back up, kissing you again and just as hungrily as before — feeling his fingers dip into the elastic hip of your panties, before once again pulling back to release those of you as well.

He breaks the cycle then, bringing up the flat of his fingers against your pussy to feel the heat radiating off of your skin before looking up at you and resuming said cycle — pressing his mouth hard against yours again, trailing down the corner and along your jaw — teeth grazing lightly against the skin as the tip of his middle finger gently dips between your folds to tease at you. Breath hitching in your throat at the contact, you feel him grin into your skin.

“W—Wooyoung,” you choke out, intensity of the situation all consuming and somehow more heavy set than you had even expected.

“What?”

But you forget what it was you were even planning on saying once his finger makes proper contact with your clit — perhaps it was nothing, just an airy exasperation of his name altogether, but just as quickly as everything else the man between your legs pulls from you and pulls you down by the legs, ass edging on the side of the sofa and propping your legs up on his shoulders just as he had said he would — wasting no time thereafter going to work on you.

And you didn't expect him to be lying about what he would or wouldn't do if given the opportunity, but his eagerness right then and there — tongue pressing hard circles into your clit just before applying ample suction against you with his lips, not unwilling to make a mess of himself in the process and, from what you can tell, all the more delighted in doing so as his face glistens with each time that he pulls away to reposition — with eyes screwed shut and one arm tossed over your face in an attempt to stay grounded, the other reaches down, finding its way along the top of his head, fingers curling into hair that only hours earlier you were neatly decorating and clipping into place — hair now entangled and tightly gripped as Wooyoung makes alarmingly quick work of your body from your living room floor.

Bringing a hand up, he delicately presses one finger in, finding little resistance, and adds a second upon his following drive into you. Hand pumping into you at a slow, almost excruciating pace, Wooyoung focuses all of the attention on sucking you harder, faster with the way that your breaths pick up and become weaker, whines higher pitched than before — and if you weren't close before, the additional stimulation gets you climbing that peak all that much faster, gripping hard into his hair as you whimper out his name again, this time far more broken than the time previously.

But like a good man, he doesn't stop — bringing his eyes up to watch as you fall apart above him, you open your eyes only briefly to take in the sight, his eyes smiling back at you with the pretty little adornment of the beauty mark just beneath one.

You cuss, grinding hard down and against his mouth, and come undone against him just like that. Wooyoung sucks you through your orgasm, shallowly pressing fingers into you before removing them altogether as your high dissipates. Chest heaving, you lie in the afterglow of your peak, eyes still closed from exhaustion in the aftermath.

Wooyoung chuckles from between your legs. Cracking open your eyes, you find him settled back and on his heels, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he looks at you with unbridled satisfaction.

“I've been dying to do that,” he finally says, leaning forward and snaking the palms of his hands up your bare thighs, thumbs catching on the hem of your shirt and pressing upwards with insistence that you allow him to remove it. You grant him the access, pulling your back off of the couch long enough for him to pull the fabric up and over your head and watching as he happily tosses it elsewhere before leaning down and pressing his mouth against your own again.

The kiss is brief though, before a man on a mission makes his way back down from where he came but with stops along the journey — nimble hands reaching around the back of you and working to remove your bra — before you even have a moment to settle, plump, warm lips and tongue press into your now exposed flesh and the feeling of him; so encompassing and overwhelming has you squirming in desire beneath him as if you hadn't just come already.

“I need you,” he whispers into your skin, tongue circling your nipple between commentary. “Please, I need to feel you so bad, you drive me crazy.”

You're not sure what it is, the unabashed neediness or just the fact that it's him or maybe even the combination of the two — a man so young and famous and sexy that he could have anyone he desired and yet right now, in this moment, he makes you feel as though the only person or thing he's ever desired so badly in his life...is you.

It's as if the burning throb of arousal never even left you.

“Noona, please.”

It wasn't typically something that did it for you, and in fact, you never understood why it really 'did it' for anyone — but you had to be honest, it was working for you now.

Needy whining, begging, spilling from Wooyoung as his mouth lingers across the expanse of exposed skin. You ask him to take his shirt off and he follows through immediately, only to come back up to pick up where he had left off, but the feeling of his own hot skin against your own only serving to light you up even further.

“Switch places,” you whisper to him, and he follows order without question, pulling up quickly and allowing you space between his legs. Palms grazing over the top of his thighs, you smile up at him at the sight before you. “Same sweats as that one night?”

“Coincidence,” he answers, voice already slightly broken at the implications of what's to come, so you waste no time gripping into the waistband of his pants and pulling down his legs, freeing him and finally becoming more acquainted with what it was that had your interest really piqued since that night only a couple of weeks prior.

“Don't seem so tough now, you know,” you mock, taking his length into your hand and lazily pumping him, his eyes glued to the way you make contact on him.

“Wait until I get you in the bedroom,” he answers, tone lower and less broken now — as if snapping back to reality to assert some form of dominance that had never really had a place in the interaction prior.

You inch forward, taking him into your mouth shallowly, tongue wrapping circles along the tip as he melts into your mouth — both hands coming forward to hold onto your hair. He's not rough, and not assuming the pace, but with every press down of your mouth along him you take him deeper and deeper, his mouth dropping open just that much more at the feeling of your warmth along his shaft.

“Feel so good, you feel so good,” he chants under his breath as you bob along him — a steady rhythm but not so fast with intent to get him there, Wooyoung's head falls back to take in the feeling. “That's it baby, you take it so well.”

The praise has your pussy throbbing all over again, pace on his cock quickening unbeknownst to you just at the prospect of what other filthy things will fall from those beautiful lips.

So, you play along.

Pulling off of him briefly and replacing the sensation with your hand, you look up at him, quickly fisting him and occasionally licking a circle around the tip. “Yeah? That why you like older women? Like the experience?”

Wooyoung groans at the words as if you accidentally stumbled upon some kink that he hadn't made you all that privy to to begin with, hips bucking up into your hand as his eyebrows furrow, “Yeah, know your way around a cock, don't you?”

“I do,” you answer, stuffing him back into your mouth without warning and taking him down a few times just to listen to him groan deeply at the sight and sensation before pulling back up. “Hoping I fucked that guy back there just so you could be sure?”

“Little bit,” he chuckles through a whine as you continue to jerk him off along side the conversation. “Kinda like hearing about it, too.”

“Nasty boy,” you tease in reply, licking a stripe up his shaft before circling around the head of his cock again and watching the way his eyes roll back.

But just as suddenly, Wooyoung snaps forward, pulling your hand off of him and standing up to pull you with him towards the bedroom. “This one?” he asks, simultaneously shoving you inside of it as if the answer you provided wouldn't have matter to begin with, but you assure him that it is, in fact, the correct room as he continues pulling you towards the bed — turning to lie himself on it first before reaching for your wrist and pulling you down to straddle his hips.

You assume the position, grinding gently against his length as he brings you into a sloppy kiss again, you pull off of him not long thereafter, hands flat against his chest as you slide against him.

“All this talk just so I can ride you, eh? Lazy boy,” you say with the same teasing voice as before.

But Wooyoung shakes his head, hands quickly making their way up the length of your thighs and settling on your waist as you hover above his aching cock.

“I just have to see you ride my cock, please, I'll fuck you stupid afterwards, I'll have you begging for it, baby—“ he pleads, one hand slipping down between the two of you to align himself with your entrance, other hand gently pulling you down onto his shaft as he continues on. “—Wanted me to fill you up that night, but I'll do it tonight instead.”

It's an unfortunate giveaway the way his words have such an affect on you, already nearly fully seated on him when the nasty implications of the plans he has for you that evening drop from his sinful lips — walls clenching hard around him, so much so that he groans at the feeling as you sink down to fully take him in. Wooyoung's fingers dig into the skin of your hips as you gently begin to rock against him, thick girth of him tugging at you in all of the ways that you knew it would when you saw it — so full and stretched that even the slightest movement pulls at your clit as you ride him ever so delicately. You whimper shortly thereafter at the feeling he provides you, your nails now digging into the skin of his chest as he watches the space between the both of your hips — watching how your cunt struggles to accommodate his size and yet does so regardless, he allows his head to fall back against the mattress, taking in the feeling of the moment as you bite back your pathetic, flustered, sounds.

“Feel so good, baby,” he finally says, rubbing your thighs as you attempt to ride him to any useful degree. “Is it what you wanted? When you thought about it, is it better?” he adds, pressing his hips up ever so slightly to meet your own as you drop down onto him, a louder hiss dropping from you at the added friction.

“Awww,” he coos teasingly as he watches the way you struggle on top of him. “Mommy's good at talking but not so good at taking it, huh?”

You're not proud of the way that sentence goes straight to your pooling arousal.

And just as quickly, Wooyoung pulls you off of him to switch you places, pressing your back to the mattress as he adjusts himself between your legs.

“I can come in you?” he asks suddenly, and it feels almost random, as if breaking scene in a film. So sudden that you almost don't catch it, but coming back to reality, you nod.

“Uh, y—yeah.”

“Oh, this is going to be so much fun,” he replies, leaning back down and pressing his chest into your own to kiss you — head of his cock teasingly dangling just against your pussy and occasionally grazing your sensitive clit, you press your hips up and into him in an attempt to make the contact that you want, Wooyoung chuckling devilishly against the skin of your chin and neck as you struggle to achieve what you set out for.

“Not as good at taking my cock as I thought you'd be,” he playfully pouts, lips attaching into the skin just at the juncture of your neck and shoulder to suck red and purple blotches into it. “But mommy, you were supposed to be so good.”

The tone in which the words drop from his lips, quite evidently mocking, playful, toying with you and the idea of the age play of it all. You knew that this was part of it for him, you had been warned.

But you didn't know it was going to do it for you, in addition.

“Guess we have to try again,” he whispers, lips trailing up a bit higher and just under your ear. “Probably better off if I'm in control, huh?”

With that, Wooyoung begins his slow drive into you once again — for a man that talks so much about your inability to take him, and being in control, you find his attention to your comfort almost surprising — not taking it quickly and giving you ample time to adjust to the intrusion even in spite of it not being the first time that night that you had taken him, once bottomed out, he settles for a few moments; kissing and sucking along your neck, along with babbling words of affirmation and encouragement all the while before pulling his hips back and slowly pressing forward once again.

The fullness of him is almost stifling, though — and paired with the fact that he won't shut the fuck up through it.

Five or six more delicate drives into you and Wooyoung begins to settle into a more fluid pace, rocking his hips against your own with hard impact but not entirely quick, every push of his cock into you more brutal than the last as he hovers above you and watches the way your face contorts with glee.

“Look at you, so good,” he groans in between snaps of his hips, hands flat against the mattress and on either side of your head to watch the way your cunt takes him. “Aww, I was wrong, you take my cock so well, I knew you would.”

Clenching hard around him with praise, your hands clasp around his arms, nails digging into the tan, hot skin with every drive of himself against you — the sound of wet skin against skin reverberating through your bedroom, and more than that, the sight of Wooyoung's bottom lip sucked up and between his teeth — arms and chest flexing with every movement of his hips.

The familiar feeling of your impending orgasm felt building once again at a particularly hard thrust from him, you cry out, catching his attention. Wooyoung slows, not entirely sure of how to take the sound, but is just as quickly met with your babbling and begging of him not to stop, to which he grins and resumes his rough pace into you.

Leaning down and wrapping an arm up and under your shoulder for more leverage to pull your body down and against him, chest to chest like this, Wooyoung continues his previous ministrations on your skin with his mouth, nipping and sucking at the skin of your neck, collar bones, jaw and mouth as he fucks hard into you — harder now with the positioning, you cry out again and louder even, much to his delight.

“Fuck, Wooyoung—“ you whisper against his mouth, feeling your orgasm threatening in the not so distant future.

“Yeah baby?” he coos back, so gentle in tone and completely opposing the brutality of the way he's fucking you. “Gonna come? Gonna come for me? Just from my cock, nothing else?”

You nod wildly, the way he's talking to you bringing you to the edge even faster — muscles tightening in your abdomen and losing the ability to verbally communicate to much extent at all.

“Good, good, you're so good,” he babbles into your skin, grip on your shoulder tightening even more. “Love it when you say my name, God you're so perfect.”

You whine, pulling forward to press your mouth into his shoulder just in front of you.

“Want me to come inside of you now? Make you mine? You know I want to so bad, want to fill you up so bad.”

Your insides twist at the way he's nearly begging to, despite already having been given the go ahead to do so. All a part of the game, you figure.

It's working, though.

You nod again, but Wooyoung brings his free hand over and to your clit, taking it between his fingers and thumb to force you into eye contact with him.

“Gotta say it, noona, can you say it for me?”

Your fingers dig into him harder, you're reaching inevitability much faster than you had originally intended with the way that he's talking to you, and the anticipation of just what it is he'll say next.

You knew he was gonna be a wild ride, but you didn't anticipate him to be this much of a freak.

“God, noona, please say it, please noona say you want me to come in you, I want to so bad.”

“Wooyoung, Jesus, I'm gonna—“

But he stills, cock buried deep inside of you as you whine at the loss of your incoming peak, shocked at the fact that he would do it.

You're not proud of your next step, either.

“Wooyoung, please, please, don't stop—“ you beg, trying to fuck yourself onto him in an attempt to reach your orgasm, and he does start a drive into you again, albeit much more delicate and less hearty than previous.

“Wow, so whiny,” he chides against your ear, shallowly thrusting into your soaking wet cunt with no intention behind it at all. “I'll give you what you want noona — thick, young, cock to come around, yeah?” he whispers, the words sending chills down your spine paired with the way that the tip of his length dips in and out of you teasingly.

“That what you want?” he whispers again.

“Yes,” you whine in response.

“Want me to come in you too, don't you?” he adds, nose nuzzling into the side of your face as he begins a proper push of his length back inside of you. “Fill you up? Pump a nice, hot load into your tight little cunt?”

It's the first time in the night that his dirty talk had been so lewd, so filthy. Slow drive of his cock back into you and even with the tiniest friction that it provides, just the words alone have you building back up to that place that only moments ago he had stripped from you just as quickly.

You'll do and say anything, now.

“Yes, Wooyoung, please,” you whisper, his hips snapping into you two, three times at the words. “Please daddy—“

The both of you stop as a point of both shock and confusion, neither expecting the word dropping out so suddenly, and not one typically on your repertoire, but Wooyoung seems to take it happily and in stride with an accompanying small giggle, quickly falling into the role that is required of him and driving hard against your hips at the pace once lost all over again — teeth baring against your cheek as he does so.

“Daddy? Well I wasn't planning on it but if you want it so bad,” Wooyoung grits out, reaching down with one hand and pulling one of your legs up and out. “I can fuck a baby into you, too. That why you want me to fill you up so bad? Want me to give you one?”

“Oh my God, Wooyoung, I—“ you groan, nails digging so hard into his skin that you fear you may actually hurt him, muscles in your abdomen tightening so suddenly, so hardly that it takes you by surprise — thick cock still pounding hard into you at an even better angle now, and Wooyoung begins kissing against your skin again.

“Feel so good around me, God, noona, come for me baby, milk me dry, wanna feel you come around my dick.”

muscles locking up, sound catching in your throat, your orgasm rips through your body with little more warning and nearly silently — stilling beneath the man as he continues to fuck you through your high, chasing his own and praising you through it as you do.

“Gonna come baby,” he groans at the impending orgasm of his own. Pulling up and off of you slightly he looks back down between the two of you before meeting your fucked out gaze again and screwing his own eyes shut. “Fuck, noona, fuck you full of me, God I'll ruin this pussy, yeah?”

Two, three more drives into you, Wooyoung buries his cock deep before stilling, head dropping as he growls through his release into you — gentle, shallow thrusts accompanying him as he begins to pull himself out of you. “Fuck, fuck, fuck—“ he whispers as he finally expels his body from yours completely at the feeling of the overstimulation on his dick, flopping over onto the side of you and clenching his eyes shut for a moment as he attempts to steady his breathing in the aftermath.

Even having had more time to settle than him, you're not that much better off.

Silence takes the room beyond heavy breathing, you look over to take in the sight of the light sheen of sweat adorning the man's beautiful body, unsure if you'll ever even get the chance to enjoy this again — if you were to want to, that is. Wooyoung cards his fingers through black and gold hair, pulling most off of his slick forehead before turning to you to meet your gaze. Somewhat embarrassed upon having been caught looking at him, he only smiles gently, as if to tell you that it's okay. That the two of you are past such silly formalities, as it were.

“Hey,” you whisper, searching for his stray hand among the crumpled sheets beneath you.

“Yeah?”

“You're kind of a sicko, you know that?”

Wooyoung laughs, so much so and with such a dry throat that it sends him into a coughing fit as a result. You reach for a bottled water that you have on your nightstand and hand it to him for him to lubricate with, clearing his throat and handing the bottle back to you before attempting to respond to such accusations.

“Maybe so,” he finally says. “But you sure liked it. What's that say about you?”

“Who knows,” you reply, staring at the ceiling as if soul searching for the answers to such questions. “Maybe we're just particularly, disgustingly matched.”

“Maybe so.” Wooyoung nods, adjusting comfortably into the bed beneath him.

On the last day of filming, everything carries on as normal.

You're not entirely sure what story Wooyoung told the others as to why he never came home last night — having slept the rest of the night with you and the two of you having to devise quite the plan to leave from the same place and arrive to the same place without anyone being in on the pick up, but you figure that you manage with no bizarre or questioning looks upon your entry — and Wooyoung already seated and waiting, ready for you to begin to get to work on him.

As he ticks away on his phone, you lean down towards his head questioningly.

“Did you use my shampoo?”

“What was I supposed to use?”

“Probably not the thing that smells like me?”

You watch in the reflection as he stops for a moment to mull the concept over, quite evidently having not thought about it prior to this moment, only to shrug and go back to typing on his phone.

After shooting wraps and everyone is saying their goodbyes, you thank the members and their staff for the warm welcoming and all of their help to make sure that the work environment was comfortable and smooth for you. For Hongjoong and Wooyoung especially — who you worked with most closely — the two hug you, sending you on your way, but not before Hongjoong makes some snide comment about finally being able to escape Wooyoung.

It was true, that you would finally escape the grip of that man, however, wanting to escape? You weren't so sure.

Gently tossing your belongings into the back of a taxi, you climb in and pull your seatbelt over you, reaching towards your purse and pulling out your phone to see what your next schedule would be for the upcoming weeks, only to find a text on your phone that had come in hours prior.

>big trouble: let me see you again (not just sex way)

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ hope you enjoyed! please check out my navigation for more (´｡• ᵕ •｡`)

—this is a oneshot, there will be no part 2.

#wooyoung smut #wooyoung x reader #wooyoung x you #wooyoung x y/n #wooyoung scenarios #wooyoung imagines #wooyoung fanfic #ateez smut #ateez x reader #ateez x you #ateez x y/n #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez fanfic

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the-roo-too · 7 months

Note

hi i have a lesserafim request too if u dont mind ^-^ how about chaewon x 6th!member reader where reader is kind of like a tsundere and rarely does sweet acts for others.. then one time theyre at an year end award show (its winter) and chae somehow got shorter clothes than usual so she's close to freezing so reader gives her a coat or something.. then it goes viral LMAO ty

hot n cold -> bandmate! kim chaewon

-“y/n of le sserafim being cold to everyone for four minutes (and nice for one minute) straight”

warnings: fuck the stylist; written from the third person pov

genre: fluff!

notes: it’s winter from aespa

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : clip one

“y/nnie!” the le sserafim member visibly rolled her eyes.

“yes, sakura unnie?”

the oldest member happily ran towards her dongsaeng with two controllers.

“you promised me you’d play mario cart with me!”

the younger out of the two nodded her head slowly. “that’s true… does it have to be now?”

sakura pouted at the other girl. “don’t you want to spend time with your unnie?”

“not really?”

“yah!” sakura started chasing y/n through the room. “come here, you little-!”

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : clip two

y/n sat talking with the manager as one of the stylists was working on her hair.

“so i have that photoshoot planned tomorrow-“

suddenly into the room ran a certain american blonde. “y/n! my favourite le sserafim member!”

y/n quirked her brow. “what now, unnie?”

“i stole sakura’s pikatchu plushie..?” the american laughed awkwardly. “help me hide it?”

as if on cue, everyone could hear sakura yell ‘huh yunjin!’ from afar. y/n smiled playfully at the blonde.

“of course…” yunjin visibly cheered. “…not.”

“what?”

“huh jennifer!”

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : clip three

“unnie, im bored.” y/n looked at the younger girl on her side. they were currently coming back from a photoshoot for the upcoming album.

“okay?”

kazuha pouted at the older’s response. “unnie, talk with meee!”

“i’m sleepy.”

“unnie!”

the japanese could do much as her member turned in her seat, leaning her head on the window and closing her eyes.

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : clip four

y/n was laying down on the couch in the dorm, when a wild eunchae suddenly appeared.

“unnie, have you seen my plushie?”

“which one?”

“the penguin?”

the older hummed before answering. “i think sakura took it with other things to wash?”

eunchae almost shrieked at that. “what? stop her!”

“…but i’m comfy…”

“y/n unnie!”

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : clip five

the group’s usual stylist was called in sick, so one of the company’s replacement guys came in. ever since that guy appeared on the award show, y/n disliked him.

the show went on without any errors, the girls won one of the awards, yet y/n had a frown on her face.

they all were currently standing on the stage, side by side as sakura held the trophy. she was giving her speech to the fans, although not everyone paid attention.

it was the middle of winter, so the temperature outside was freezing. while everyone else in the group had acceptable outfits, the group’s leader was shivering in her shorter clothes.

“chaewon unnie?” y/n whispered to her leader quietly.

“y-yeah?”

“you’re freezing…” the younger out of the two suddenly took of her jacket that came with the outfit and wrapped it around the leaders waist.

“y-y/nnie?” a small blush appeared on chaewon’s cheeks at the gesture.

“d-don’t mention it unnie…” she responded, her face equally heated up.

none of them noticed all the cameras recording the unusually cute interaction.

ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇ!

#chaewon #kim chaewon #kim chaewon x reader #chaewon x reader #le sserafim #lesserafim #le sserafim imagines #le sserafim x reader #lesserafim imagines #lesserafim x reader #kazuha #sakura #yunjin #eunchae #kpop #kpop x reader #wlw #fxf #men dni

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lizsos · 4 months

Text

Do I ?

Summary : team BEBE joins sfw2 bada cant help but notice how all the leaders are falling for you so she starts to question herself if she likes you

Genre : fluff , smut

g!p bada x reader

Your Aren't the youngest in team bebe .

Heck , your basically older than most of the girls except bada. It was your personality that made people think your younger than your actual age . You easily lit up any room with your cheerful and bubbly mannerism .

Bada always thought that her teammates are cute babies that she had to take care of ,but you in particular were different than the rest of the girls . Where she takes the role of an older sister for the rest of her members .

It was strange for her, team Bebe is a new team . It started with her gathering some students that she thought were fit for joining the competition . Were she , Lusher and Tatter were close because of their joined proformance for Kai , and the others were students from her classes , y/n was chosen to join the group because Young J recommend her to Bada .

At first Bada was skeptical, the girl looks very merk and shy , she saw her a couple of times talking with other members of Just Jerk while passing . But she didn't really believe that the girl is actually one of the famous instructors there .

But the moments that Bada joined one of her class , she was blown away

The girl can dance for sure

Compered to her innocent and cute looks , her dance was the complete opposite . Every move and every step that she takes looks very sensual and seductively. It makes her heart clench for a second then it recovers . That felt weird for her . She didn't know how to explain it but she knew she was in completely and utterly captivated by the sight in front of her .

The rest is history for them . After she finished gathering the rest of the members, the girls became very close quickly, some of them already knew each other from dancing classes together .

Bada is the playful and strict leader . Meanwhile Lusher took the role of the sub-leader who was always there to fill bada's shoes whenever she has some business anywhere . Tatter ,kyma , and cheche are the energisers and sowoen is the quite maknae , that leaves y/n as the team bebes unofficial maknae .

Why do you say that ? Well since you're a very clingy individual, you are always seen at least clinging onto someone thg you trust . So its normal to see you hugging while talking to the girls your smile itself can easily brighten up the room and its not rare to see you listening to the girls ramble , always with bright smile on your face . The girls really did adore you .

Bada wasn't an exception . Youw ere particularly clingy to her since she was older and she seems to like taking care of you . She sometimes buys you food or even takes you home whenever your practice runs late .

The girls had a suspension that their leader had a crush .

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

This was enough proof that the work payed off , cuz team bebe were invited to join Mnet newest dancing show . They finally have the chance to join the biggest dancing show in Korea and prove themselves , both to the dancing community and also the rest of the world .

Entering the fight zone , the members of the team bebe is actually the first team to enter . Sounds of excitement and amazement filled the big room , when team bebe enters , The stage has really improved compared to season 1 .

Bada walks in with y/n latched to her arms . Looking around in awe at the view in front of her , their team banner hanging on top of the wall .

"This looks really fun right ?" Y/n whispered to badas ears , slightly tugging downwards to actually be able to whisper to her .

Bada smiles in response, her heart with that same feeling again , the feeling that she still can't figure about, she shrugs it , and focuses on the younger girl gesture and expression.

Not long after the screen infornt of them turns on , playing what seems to be other teams commentary of team bebe .

"They're just bada copycats"

"Being badas student is their career"

"If they don't watch it , it'll start and end with bada "

This comment continued coming from each team , that lead to the members faces immediately turning sour after hearing the statements of other teams .

Even y/n has a frown on her pretty face .

They glanced at her before going to their designed seat . Sowoen ,Cheche,Kyma and minah on the second bleacher while Lusher , Tatter , y/n and bada on the front . Team bebe shows their frustration at being bad mouthed. All of them being quite .... awfully quite

" don't worry guys ... we'll prove them wrong right?" A bright voice rang out of y/n grinning at them , trying to lift up the mood . Grabbing the banner from badas head and waving it at them . After seeing that they have cheered up , she goes to put it back badas head , not forgetting to pat it lightly making the leader smile a little at the sweet gesture .

Soon after , the rest of the teams began to come one by one . And seats being finally complete, the door in the stage coming out of it kang Daniel. The room breaks into cheers after seeing the legendary hosts of the show .

"Whahh ..... two seasons in a row" somone from the crowd said .

"Its finally starting" . Another one said

"Hello . Welcome to Mnet original show ,Street Woman Fighter 2 . I'm your host Kang Danial , now let's welcome the judges for this season "

Monika of PROWDMON , monsta X shownu , and Mike songz of Kinjaz came out and went to their seats. Cheers could be heard throughout the room, each member fangirling over the judges .

Y/n wasn't an exception . When monika was called , she screamed as load as she can making the rest of team bebe shocked never have they seen her scream this load .

" I LOVE YOU MONIKAAA!" Her screams can be heard by everyone there .

Bada feels a small burn of jealously burn through her , never actually seeing the younger girl being g this excited over someone else before . "Ive had the biggest crush on her ever since I watched season 1 " y/n excitedly tells her members "its a dream to be able to see her in real life . Someone please pinch me"

Her last comment made her recive a pinch on her side , courtesy of Tatter excited to be able to annoy the older girl

"Owww... it hurts " y/n pouted .

"Well you asked for it . I just followed your order " Tatter gives her unnie a teasing grin.

After sometime they were finally given a break time to change into their clothes into a more battle appoprite .

Following her members to their waiting g room, y/n walks with bright smile, now hugging tatter , as she tries to annoy her for actually pinching her before.

Bada just walks behind the rest fo her members, happy that hey are in this together. She can't think of joining this show with other people.

They have finally finished changing and finishing up their makeup ,and now they were making their way back to the fight zone . Y/n was wearing a simple outfit consisting of a light blue baseball Jersey with a crop top underneath it and a white cargo pants , trying to show off her team color.

"The first battle is the (No respect) battle of the weakest" kang Daniel announced. He then began to explain the rules for the battle , making some of the girls look at their own no-respect sticker , wondering who gave them that .

"First to battle is 1 million redy"

Redy than comes out of her seat going around each teammfor a quite some time , knowing that her comments during the first video has really offended team bebes leader .

"The first person that I have no respect for is Bada from team bebe" redy said , moving towards team bebe section . Hearing that bada immediately stands up from her seat quite pissed at redy . The rest of the girls stood up from their seats to hype up their leader .

"I don't respect you that's it " redy shrugged , both of them facing each other ? "Not redy ... but soo Bin ! You're still an eight grader to me " bada snapped back ,hearing her respond the other teams scream hypes for the battle knowing the history between them .,

"Redy began to dance , her body moving along the rather of the song ,bada just looked at her while smirking , nothing how redy uses the same moves as before. She thought that this was going to be an easy since her opponent hasn't really improved from their younger days .

After redy stopped dancing , the music began to change . Bada stared to dance she walks over to redy , pointing out their obvious height difference and a form of taunting . Seeing her moves , the girls began to scream loving the confidence that bada has . A certain girl from bebe has become shy in particular, seeing another side of her leader as she saw her grind the air and showcasing sexual moves, a permanent blush seems to stuck on her face .

After bada finished dancing , she glanced at her team , notching one of them seems to blushing , smirking inside , she went to stand again inthe center of the stage waiting for her battle result

"Judges card open"

The three judges open their cards to show a 3 blue cards for team bebe insinuating that the Leader has won the battle . Team bebe began to scream in excitement when bada arrives at her spot , Tatter goes to put the Winner badge on their board , while bada goes to put the loser badge on 1 millions board .

The rest of the battle then continues with some them being drama-heavy . It wasn't long before y/n eard her name being called out to enter the fight zone . Tackimg the mic she decided to walk around , looking at the people around her ,whispers could be heard among the contestants,. "Shes really pretty she could pass as an idol " Capri whispers to Biggy . The girl nodding to her comment , not believing that there are a lot of pretty girls this season .

"She looks cute . I wonder how she will dance " Kirsten said to the members of jam Republic . "Yeah , she has the same vibe as Audrey, sweet and innocent " ling nodded agreeing to her . "Its rare to see you invested babe" ling said as she nudged kirsten. "What ?? No , I'm just curious about her I havent seen her dance yet " Kristen trys to defend herself "hmm .... sure , whatever helps you sleep at night" latrice decided to join in .

Their gaze simultaneously drifted to you when they hear you talk .

"The dancer that I don't have respect for is Chocol" y/n called out , making the room shout in surprise . "Waaaaa . No way ! I know I have no guts to call someone out from WolfLo " harimu screamed

"She really has some guts " mina myoung nodded at the small girl sitting next to her .

Chocol then nodded and got inside the battle zone , nodding to the younger girl " its not that I don't respect you unnie , I heard alot about you so I wanna see for myself " y/n said " Well I won't disappoint you then " chocol winked at her playfully making the younger girl blush , suddenly felling shy from the girls charm

Standing up to try getting a clearer view of her battle , bada silently watches the scene infront of her , the rest fo the bebe girls decided to follow along their leader to the side of the stage to watch their favourite member.

"Ready ? Fight ! " kang Daniel said . The music starting right after .

Chocol get to dance first she lets her body move along the beat . Her style was bery groovy and relaxed compered to the other dancers that she saw previously . Y/n just standed at the side watching seriously, face flat , trying to cover her excitement at seeing chocol cool moves . Without realising it , y/n is surprised that chocol is moving forward , body moving closer to her . Suddenly the both of them are face to face , h/n tried to step back , her body moving on its own . Chocol just smiles at her and blows a kiss her before moving back to the center and doing a flashy move before the timer runs out

Y/n is left there in surprise. Cheeks redder than tsubakill colo , trying to hide her face with her hands . The music then changed and she prepared herself . Removing her hands from her face , her expression immediately changed from its previously embarrassed state to looking cold and fierce .

As angles of Tibet by Amaarae started playing she began to jump a little

( your preformance )

You began to make your hips to the rythem hitting every beat , hips moving . Your gaze remained fierce , not giving any fucks to your surrounding , while staring at Chocol with cold eyes. Surprising the crowd around her , not expecting the bubbly shy girl to be dancing this way looking intimidating. She continued her dance with passion shaking her ass at chocol at the end . "Three two one . Battle over " Daniel said into the mic .

Y/n then stopped her movement. Throwing her gaze to her team who are screaming at her excitedly waving their arms to cheer her one . Both she and chocol move to the center waiting for the battle result . "Judges card open " danila announced.

The shy girl , covers her face with her hands , anticipating the result of her battle . The judges then open their cards showing all thee blue cards . The girl gasped in shock not believing she's able to beat such a strong dancer. Especially one that's really hard to beat .

"Y/n really surprised me . To be honest I wasn't really expecting much at the begging , but after seeing her dance I've stared to wonder how come I've never seen her before . Your moves are really fun to watch especially the details in it and the power behind it ." Monika said

"It was a really close battle to be honest " Mike started " y/n really showed us that unique kind of dance that is rarely done and even Chocol showed us the basics of hiphop and how not everyone can pull it off "

Y4n bowed to the judges after hearing their comments , happy and shocked at the same time after listening to the results she goes to face Chocol who smiled at her "its a pleasure to battle with you" y/n bowed

"Its a Pleasure to be dancing with such a beautiful and talented women " Chocol winked and went to hug her placing her arms around the girls waist . Surprised at the unexpected gesture , y/n just squeaked in response and after sometime she goes to uwarp her arms away from the girls neck . Their hug ended. And the girls went back to their teams , one with a smirk on her face and the other one why a shy redded face and a shy smile .

Upon getting closer ,team members wore a teasing smirk on their faces , ready to bully the shy older girl . What she didn't notice is one face that frowning and glaring at the figure of the wolflo members .

Yah, Unnie, what is that?" Tatter exclaimed at the girl in shock. Not believing her eyes that her shy and small unnie can dance that sexy. "And the hug too, are you perhaps flirting with Chocolunnie?" Minah added, gazing questioningly at the girl in front of her. This seems to make the leader frown deepens upon hearing

the younger girl question, questioning herself ( Do i like y/n ?)

"What? No!" Y/n denied the accusation immediately, crossing her arms into an X to further prove her point. "It's just heat of the moment I'm sure.' They goes back to their respective seat. Y/n choosing to cling to Lusher, seeing as the girl hasn't made a move to tease her. After watching battle after battle, they are finally done with filming for today. The teams are going to their waiting room and preparing to go back home, tired after a long day of filming.

The girls of Bebe follow along, moving up the stairs and walking to their room, chatting quietly along the way. After resting and packing their bags, the girls all walk together outside. Their steps are soon stopped by a silver-blonde haired girl that calls Y/n, "Hey, Y/n right?" Kirsten approached the Bebe group. "Huh? Yeah, hi, nice to meet you" Y/n replied in English. "Im Kirsten, nice to meet you guys!" she cheerfully introduced herself to the rest of Bebe, "Anyways, I'm realy surprised with your dance move earlier and would like to congratulate you for winning that battle, it's definitely a cool battle to watch" Kirsten complimented.

The shh said girl blushed after hearing her comments, not used to being praised, especially by a very talented dancer. "Ah, not really, I'm really glad that you enjoyed the battle. Your battle is really cool too, I want to learn your dance style for sure," she complimented, giving Kirsten bright smile to support her statement. "Haha... thank you for your compliment. I'll make sure to teach you some move in the future" "Well, I'l be going now, see you later guys!" Kirsten waved to the rest of the Bebe girls and blowing a kiss to Y/n "Bye pretty!"

The girls immediately teased Y/n after Kirsten figure disappear from their sight. "Wow, Y/n the Ladies Collecter," Cheche commented, making the rest of the girls burst out laughing with the exception of their leader and a blushing Y/n. "It's not like that guys, she's just being friendly" Y/n try to defend herself.

"Uh huh... friendly" Kyma makes a teasing gesture. The rest of them then walk outside, going to their respective vehicles, teasing Y/n along the way. The still quiet Leader finally speak up after the whole thing, "Y/ n, do you need a ride home?" she asked. "Yes, if it didn't bother you" the said girl answer, going to cling herself to Bada's arm, missing the unusually quiet girl touch after being ignored throughout the shooting.

"Okay... Bye girls, take care!" Bada announced to the rest of the girls, walking with Y/n that's still latching on her arm towards her car. Going to the passenger side first, and opening the door for Y/n, taking her bag before making Y/n enter the car. The smaller girl smile and thanked her for her actions. Going to close her door, Bada then went to open her car trunks and putting both her bag and Y/n bags inside before closing it and going inside the driver seat.

Bada started the car before driving . She gave Y/n her phone to play songs, knowing that she likes listening to music , Y/n just takes the phone, entering the password before opening spotify and choosing a calm song, God's forbid she can't hear any more hype songs after today long shooting. Both girls stay quiet during the drive, having thoughts in their minds for today events. Bada decided to end their silence, "How are you feeling?", Snapped out of her trance, Y/n goes to answer the question of the oreo haired girl, "Im fine. It's just very exhausting. I can't believe how exhausting it is to film this show" the smaller girl groaned out, lips turning into a pout. Chuckling at her response, Bada took a quick glance at the cute girl beside her. "Yeah, I mean, I didn't expect to watch so many dance battle's in a day".

"I know right?" the smaller girl pout deepens. "But it's still fun to meet so many new people" Hearing her response, Bada mood turns sour again, remembering how many girls flirted with Y/n throughout their shoot. She didn't like the fact that people are flirting with her girl. Well, not her girlfriend exactly, but Y/n is hers. The girl frown at her thoughts, she didn't like Y/n right? or did she .

After today events, she's starting to think that she has been denying her feelings for the smaller girl. The realization hits her like a truck. Wow, she really likes the girl beside her. Not long after they arrived in front of Y/n apartment. The girl thanked Bada for the ride before going to get out of the car. "Thanks for the ride unnie" she smile widely at Bada, giving her a close eyed smile. She then closed the door and move into her apartment. Realizing that the girl forgot her bag in the trunk, Bada turns off her car, getting the girls bag from the trunk and went to follow her. Pressing the number to her floor, Bada went out and press the bell to the girls room. Not long after she heard footsteps

approaching and the door opening. "Bada-unnie, why are you here? Did you need something?" the h/c haired girl asked, confused on why her leader is in front of her door. "Im here to give you your bag" she showed the bag that is slung over her shoulder, " You forgot it in the trunk". "Thank you so much" Y/n takes the bag that Bada handed to her before moving forward to hug the taller girl. Arms wrapping around her waist before going to release herself from the hug,mher movements is stopped by Bada arms wrapping around her.Tucking her chin on top of the girl head, and hugging her closer. Both girl just sigh in comfort, the hugs seems to take away all their stress of filming. "I love you, Y/n" Bada suddenly blurted out.

Shocking both herself and the girl that she was hugging. Releasing herself from the hug, Bada quickly composed herself and take a hold of the surprised girl hands. "Ive always liked you ever since I met you .

You were kinda shocked from what bada just said but something about that made you feel relived so you answered her back " I love you to bada unnie " bada responded to your answer by pulling you by the neck and kissing , you immediately, kissed her back

Bada was satisfied by finally tasting your lips . Bada slowly pulled away from the kiss and said " how about I show how much I love y/n " in a slow sudctive voice . You were kind of surprised with how bada said that but you answered her "please bada "

Bada couldn't stop herself anymore she kissed you one more time but this time more rough , she pushed her tongue in your mouth and carried you to your apartment and closed the door behind her .

"Please be rough bada " bada was kind of suprised by your comment but she didn't complain

"Anything for you princess" she said but soon said

"on your knees," Bada's jaw was clenched, palms flat against the door, effectively trapping you in. Scoffing, you tugged on her shirt yanking her closer to you, "why don't you make me?" You could almost see the shocked expressionon badas face , "so you're playing that game, huh? fine, have it your way." Was the last thing she uttered before you were pushed down to your knees, a large veiny hand tangled in your roots as you winced in pain.

"ow! Bada− it took me like 3 hours to style my hai−" you were cut off by your bada's hardened length slapping against your cheek, effectively shutting you up. "I don't want to hear your blabbering," she sighed, pushing the bulbous tip past your lips as she shuddered in delight. "now, get to work, slut."

You whined at the derogatory name, licking the underside of her cock before taking her in your mouth again, suckling lightly on the tip. She hissed when you slowly started to take hierfully into your mouth, fingers tangled in your hair tightening with each inch you swallow. You took half of her before abruptly pulling off− her brows twitched in annoyance and she breaths a quiet "enough" before slamming into your mouth forcefully, the mushroom tip reaching the very back of your throat as you sputter and gag on it, not expecting her to be so rough but you asked for it so thats what you get . She keeps going before pulling out almost completely− then brutally thrusting back into the wet heat of your mouth.

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The end

#bada lee #bada lee x y/n #bada lee x reader #swf2 #swf2 x reader #smut #fluff #bada imagine

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