Summary: Its 2026 and your at the Michael movie premiere, but, someones missing :(((
angst
word count: 3.8k
(oh just a note, i know theres complications about the Michael movie, and like how its not accurate and very sugarcoated, but for the sake of this fic pls pretend it was perfect)
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The lights of the 2026 premiere shimmer like something out of a dream.
You stand just outside the entrance for a moment longer than you mean to, fingers tightening around your clutch as the noise of cameras and voices rolls through the air. Flashes of cameras going crazy to catch a shot of the late Michael's wife’s rare appearance. Interviewers and journalists shouting over each other
“Y/N! Y/N look here—just one question!”
“Is it painful for you to watch someone else portray him?”
“Do you think the filmmakers exploited his life for profit?”
“Why appear now after staying private for so long?”
It is loud, celebratory, and overwhelming. But underneath it, there is something else too. Something quieter that you feel more than hear.
History.
Inside, the film is about to premiere. A story of him, ur best friend, ur husband. Of Michael. Except none of this feels right. He should be here beside you, shoulder brushing yours as you walk in, leaning in close to whisper that he already wants to leave, not even ten minutes into the night. His hand would be wrapped tightly around yours, like if he let go for even a second, you’d disappear into the crowd.
And then it hits you, sharp and sudden, twisting your chest into something hot and angry.
Why did he disappear?
How did he have the nerve to leave you standing here alone like this, in a world too loud, too bright, too full of people who don’t understand what he meant to you?
The anger should stay sharper than this, but it doesn’t. It softens against the weight of everything that came before it, against the long, careful process that made this film what it is. Because none of it was sudden. None of it was distant. It was built piece by piece, in the spaces between conversations, in the quiet insistence that if his story was going to be told, it had to be told right.
And your children, Prince and Blanket, are the ones who helped shape it into reality. You still remember the late-night conversations, the drafts scattered across kitchen counters, Blanket’s quiet intensity when he talked about preserving every detail with care, Prince’s steady determination to make sure it felt honest, not just polished. Nights where conversations never quite reached an ending, weighed down by the unbearable reality that Michael was truly gone, until eventually everyone would drift back to their own rooms, carrying their grief in silence, each person mourning him in their own way.
They had carried his legacy like something fragile and sacred at the same time.
And then there is Jaafar. Michael’s nephew. The one who stepped into Michael’s shoes on screen. The resemblance is almost painful in motion. The way he embodied his uncle doesn’t feel like imitation, but something closer to inheritance, as if fragments of Michael are being carried forward through him impossible to miss.
You finally step inside.
The auditorium glows gold and soft red, filled with family, collaborators, and people who once knew him in different chapters of his life. The Jackson family is scattered through the crowd, but you spot them easily. Familiar faces, familiar grief softened by time but never erased.
Jackie, Jermaine, and Marlon stand together in a loose cluster, talking quietly like they’re trying to keep the night lighter than it feels. Jermaine, as always, has done something unpredictable with his hair again, and it almost distracts you for a second before Jackie nudges him mid-conversation like he’s given up trying to figure it out.
A little further over, Katherine Jackson stands with La Toya beside her. Katherine holds herself with that composed presence she always has, like she’s learned how to carry an entire family’s history without letting it break her posture.
Prince catches your eye first from near the stage and gives you a small nod, like he is grounding himself through you. Blanket is beside him, quieter, hands folded, eyes flicking between the screen and the seats as if trying to hold everything together at once.
Then you see Jaafar.
He is already in costume for the Q and A afterward, still carrying traces of Michael even when he is just standing still. The way he tilts his head slightly when listening. The softness in his focus. The way his eyes light up when he smiles. It hits you in a way you are not prepared for.
Because for a second, it is not 2026.
It is years ago.
1970.
It is laughter in a sunlit room. It is running through corridors barefoot because someone dared someone else to race. It is a boy with a quiet smile and a loud personality whose only fault was loving too much.
Michael.
Your chest tightens before you can stop it.
“Hey,” a voice says softly beside you. You turn and find Katherine watching you, steady as always. She studies you for a second. “You alright, sweetheart?” You swallow. “It is strange, isn’t it?” you manage, voice a little uneven.
Katherine nods once. “Yeah. It always is for us.” You glance out toward the crowd, cameras flashing somewhere in the distance. “It feels like he should be here.”
“I know,” she says quietly. No hesitation, no attempt to fix it. A pause settles between you. Then Katherine adds, softer, “But he is here. Just not the way people expect.” Your eyes drop for a moment. You do not answer straight away. Before the silence can sit too long, another voice joins in.
“I keep thinking I’m going to see him walk in late like he always did,” La Toya says as she reaches you both, shaking her head a little like she is trying to smile through it. “And he’d act like nothing was wrong. Like he was here all along and we’re all just going insane.”
A small, breathy laugh slips out of you before you can stop it. La Toya notices. “See? You remember it too. He used to drive us all crazy.” “He drove everyone crazy,” Katherine says, but there is the faintest hint of warmth in it.
La Toya steps closer to you, her voice dropping a little. “He’d be so proud of you being here tonight. You know that, right?” That lands heavier than you expect. You blink, looking down. “I just wish…” You stop yourself before you finish it.
Katherine reaches for your hand, gentle but firm. “We all do.” La Toya nods. “But you know what he was like. He’d hate all this fuss and then secretly love it at the same time.” That finally pulls another small, shaky laugh out of you.
Katherine squeezes your hand once. “Come on,” she says softly. “You do not have to carry it all standing here.”
All together you start walking further down where it was filled with more interviewers and journalists, the press.
“Y/N! Over here!”
“Can you look this way?”
“Y/N, do you think you’ve ever fully processed his death?”
The last question hit you hard but there was no time to react, you weren’t new to all this and you knew any sort of reaction you gave would be picked on like crazy in the media tomorrow.
Flashes go off in sharp bursts. You try to keep moving, but it is impossible not to feel pulled in every direction at once. Everyone's saying your name.
“Do you think the film gets Michael right?”
“Is this premiere reopening old wounds for you?”
“Y/N, what would Michael think of this tonight?”
You pause as the questions overlap, your name being called from every direction, cameras flashing without a break.
When you speak, your voice is calmer, more measured.
“I think people will always have their own opinions about him,” you say gently. “But this film wasn’t made to answer everything or to change that. It was made with a lot of care, and a lot of love for who he was to us, not just who the world thought he was.”
You take a small breath, holding yourself steady under the lights.
“For me, what matters is that so many of the people closest to him helped shape it. It came from conversations, from memories, from trying to be as honest as possible with something that is never simple to tell.”
A brief pause.
“So I just hope people watch it with that in mind. Not as a final version of him, but as one way of remembering a life that meant a lot to a lot of people.”
You feel Katherine beside you before you see her. Steady. Present. La Toya is on your other side, close enough that you can hear her small, grounding “you’re okay” under her breath.
And then it becomes a blur of familiar faces moving through the same chaos.
Actors you recognised from the long nights of rewatching footage and personally meeting to make sure they completely encompassate the character they are playing. Colman Domingo pauses for photos, composed and calm in a way that almost feels unfair in all this noise. Nia Long gives a soft smile toward the cameras before leaning slightly closer to speak with someone off to the side. Juliano is there too, still carrying something of Michael's childhood in the way he stands, quiet but playful, like he is trying to stay inside the memory he helped recreate.
Ahead, the Jackson brothers is gathered in shifting pockets of movement.
Jackie, Marlon, and Jermaine stand together for a moment, Jermaine still somehow managing to distract everyone with his hair again, and Jackie and Marlon arguing, most likely over something that no one cares about.
Prince and Blanket are a little further in, staying close to each other. Prince’s posture is steady and humble. Blanket watches everything carefully, like he is noticing details everyone else is rushing past.
Jaafar moves through it all like he belongs in both worlds at once. When he catches your eye, he softens immediately, going back to all the conversations he has with you to perfect playing his uncle the best he can. There is a small nod, subtle but certain, like he understands exactly what this moment feels like for you without needing to say it out loud.
Someone calls your name again.
“Y/N! Over here!”
A wave of movement follows as you are guided forward again, the press finally loosening behind you. The sound shifts almost immediately. Not questions this time.
Cheering.
Your eyes lift before you even realise you are looking for it.
Fans packed behind barricades, signs held high, hands reaching out, voices overlapping in pure noise that is somehow warmer than what you just walked through.
“Y/N!”
“We love you!”
“Michael forever!”
You stop for a second without meaning to. La Toya glances at you and hesitates, like the words are too heavy to say out loud. When she finally speaks, her voice is softer than before, almost fragile.
“They’ve been waiting for this… for you,” she says, watching your face carefully, like she is trying to steady you with her gaze alone. A shaky breath slips out of her.
“You know, Y/N… ever since Michael,” her voice breaks and she looks down for a second, gathering herself, “ever since Michael passed away… it was like something in you went with him. Like you didn’t really leave, but you weren’t fully here either.”
The words land quietly at first, then all at once.
Your chest tightens in a way you can’t hide. For a second you just stand there, staring at the fans, your mind trying to catch up to what she actually said. Your fingers curl into your palm, nails pressing lightly without you noticing.
Your lips part, but nothing comes out right away.
When you finally speak, it’s barely above a whisper.
“I miss him,” you say, voice cracking on the edge of it. You blink quickly, like you can stop anything from spilling over if you just hold it in place. “I miss him so much it hurts in places I can’t even explain.”
“God I hate him so much” You let out a small, uneven breath, shaking your head slightly. You lift your hand, a small wave at first. The crowd erupts louder.
And then you’re moving again, gently guided forward by someone holding your arm.
You don’t resist. You just go with it. La Toya stays beside you as you walk, not saying much now, just keeping pace.
Ahead, you can see the entrance to the cinema where the film is being shown. People are gathered, lights brighter up there, voices louder again as you get closer.
Your breathing is still uneven, but you try to steady it. You keep your eyes forward and follow where they’re taking you, step by step, toward the screening.
You take your seat labelled with your name in it, sitting between Latoya and Marlon, Marlon gives you a warm familiar smile as the lights start to dim.
At the front, the director steps up first, speaking about the film, about Michael, about his work and legacy. Then the producers follow, talking about what it meant to bring everything together for tonight.
You listen, but it all feels slightly distant, like you’re hearing it through water. Then there’s movement at the front again. Prince steps up first, then Blanket beside him.
For a moment, they both just look out at the audience. Then Prince speaks first, his voice steady but emotional.“Thank you for coming tonight,” he says. “This film means a lot to us… to our family. It’s about our dad, but it’s also about everything he left behind for us.” They continue acknowledging the whole cast and thanking them.
Blanket takes a small breath before speaking, glancing briefly down and then back up. “And… we just want to say thank you to everyone who’s been here for us,” he says. “Especially our mum.”
There’s a pause. Prince looks toward your section of the room.
“She’s been everything to us, and we know this is hard for her,” he says simply. “But she is the strongest person we know. She’s kept us together.” Blanket nods slightly.
“And she’s been the best mum… and the best wife to our dad,” he adds quietly. “Even when things were really hard, she never stopped loving him.” The room is quiet for a second, then soft applause starts to build.
You don’t move right away. You just sit there, taking it in, your hands resting in your lap as people around you turn slightly in your direction. Marlon grinning and nudging you “Alright,” he murmurs with a small laugh, “I see what’s going on here… they’re trying to make you cry in public on purpose.”
You shake your head, smiling.
“If you start crying, I’m gonna start crying so you better not,” he adds lightly.
Eventually silence washes over the room like a held breath finally released. The screen flickers alive. For a second, anger flickers through you before you can stop it. And as much as you love Marlon, it’s not him you want here. It should be Michael.
He should be sitting there beside you, nudging you every few minutes during the film, leaning in to whisper something funny about a scene, or quietly complaining about the acting just to make you laugh. He should be there, like he always used to be. You shake your head, and look up at the screen.
On screen, little Michael appears.
Juliano.
The moment he steps into frame, something inside you fractures softly rather than breaks. It is not just the performance. It is the way he holds himself. The way his big brown bambi eyes search the world like it is both too loud and too beautiful at the same time.
He reminds you so much of him that it feels unfair.
Your breath catches.
Latoya notices first. She leans slightly toward you but does not interrupt. Just shifts closer, like an anchor without words. Marlon glances back too, softer now, like he understands without needing explanation.
“I’m fine,” you whisper automatically.
No one believes you.
You do not believe you.
The screen continues.
Young Michael smiles.
And suddenly you are somewhere else again, not watching a film but remembering a real moment that never fully stopped existing in your mind.
You are sitting across from him when he was still just Michael to you, not an icon, not a legend, just a boy with too much weight on his shoulders pretending it was normal.
He’s trying to act serious, but it doesn’t last long. You nudge his foot under the table. “You’re not concentrating at all.” He looks up immediately, pretending he’s been paying attention the whole time. “Yes I am.”
“You weren’t even looking at the page.” He glances down, then back at you, caught. “I was thinking.”
“About what?”
He hesitates for half a second, then says quickly, “Important things.” You squint at him. “That’s not an answer.” He smiles, a little cheeky now. “It is. Just a secret one.”
You shake your head, trying not to laugh, but you fail. “You’re so weird.” “Yeah,” he says, leaning back a little like he’s proud of it. “But you’re still sitting here talking to me, so it can’t be that bad.”
And he grins at you like it’s the easiest thing in the world to make you stay.
Back in the cinema, your hands are trembling now. You press them together so tightly it hurts.
On screen, the story moves forward. Pain and joy braided together. Fame and isolation. Love as both a gift and a burden.
And then he is there.
Not Michael, not exactly. But something close enough that your heart does not know how to separate the image from the memory. Jaafar moves across the screen with care, not imitation, but interpretation shaped by love and responsibility. Still, your mind does what it always does when it is overwhelmed.
It goes backwards.
Again you are not in a cinema.
You’re outside a house you barely remember the address of anymore, young and breathless, arguing over nothing important except everything feels important then. Michael is laughing at something you said, head tilted back, sunlight catching the edge of his hair.
“You always make everything sound like a story,” he says, smiling. “And you always act like you belong in all of them,” you reply.
He looks at you for a second longer than usual, grin softening a little. “As long as you're in them, I do belong,” he says quietly blushing.
You roll your eyes, but there’s a smile you can’t hide. “You’re so corny.”
“Was it?” he says, stepping a little closer. “I thought it was pretty good.”
The memory shifts again.
Years later, it’s quieter. You’re sitting on steps somewhere, shoulder to shoulder. He nudges your arm gently. “Be honest.” You glance at him. “That sounds dangerous.” He laughs softly. “It’s not. Not with you.”
You pause for a second, then look at him properly. “Fine. Ask.” He hesitates, then says a little softer, “Do you ever think we’ll still be like this when we’re older?” You bump his shoulder lightly. “Like what?”
“Like this,” he says, smiling at you now. “together.”
You don’t answer straight away. You just look at him for a moment, like you’re trying to figure out why that question feels heavier than it should. Then you shrug a little. “I don’t know about the future.”
His smile fades just slightly.
You bump his shoulder again, softer this time. “But I know you. So yeah… I think you’d still find me.” That makes his expression change. He looks at you properly now, like he’s hearing something he didn’t expect.
“Yeah?” he asks quietly. “Yeah,” you say, like it’s obvious.
He lets out a small breath, almost a laugh, but it doesn’t fully come out. Instead, he just looks at you for a second too long. “You make it sound easy,” he says. “It kind of is,” you reply.
A comfortable silence settles between you.
He shifts a little closer, knees almost touching yours now. “You’re really confident about that,” he says, softer, teasing but not quite. You raise an eyebrow. “About what?” “Me,” he says simply, like it’s not a big deal to say it.
That makes you pause.
You look at him again, really look at him, and your voice comes out quieter. “Maybe I just like you too much to imagine you disappearing.” His smile goes still for a moment, like he doesn’t know what to do with that honesty.
“Oh,” he says, barely above a whisper. You laugh a little, nervous now. “Don’t make it weird.” “I’m not,” he says quickly, but he’s still looking at you like that.
Another silence.
Then he shifts closer again, slow this time, like he’s asking without words. His hand rests lightly on the step beside yours, not touching you, just close. “Can I try something?” he asks softly.
You tilt your head. “Try what?” He doesn’t answer right away. He just looks at you, then down at your mouth for a split second, then back to your eyes.
That’s enough of an answer. Your breath catches slightly. “Michael…”
“Just tell me no,” he says gently, still not moving. You don’t.
Instead, you lean in first, just a little. It’s small, hesitant, like both of you are checking if this is real. When your lips meet, it’s soft and unsteady and over too quickly, like neither of you knows how to make it last yet. When you pull back, there’s no big reaction. Just quiet.
He’s smiling. Not his usual grin. Something softer. “Okay,” he says quietly. You let out a breath, trying to hide your smile. “Okay what?”
“I think I found my answer,” he says, still looking at you like he’s not planning on looking away anytime soon.
You do not notice you are crying until Latoya gently slides her hand into yours.
She does not say anything.
She does not have to.
Latoya reaches over a moment later, placing a steadying hand on your shoulder, grounding you between them like they are holding you in place so you do not drift too far into memory.
And slowly, the present returns.
The film is still playing.
Jafaar is smiling again on the screen, playing tricks with your fragile mind.
You swallow hard.
“He looks like him,” you whisper without meaning to.
Latoya nods once sadly. “Yeah.”
You look back at the screen and feel something shift inside your chest. Not healing exactly. Not closure. Something more complicated than that.
Understanding, maybe.
Or acceptance that love does not stop just because time does.
The screen fades to black at the end of the premiere segment.
Applause begins, slow at first, then rising like a wave.
But you stay seated for a moment longer.
Because for a second, in the quiet after everything, you swear you can still hear him somewhere in the memory of the room. Still your sweet lover boy, still your best friend, still Michael.
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😢
summary: Some get to pick their mate, an emptiness left by the divine to be allowed to get to know some and choose each other. Others are pulled solely by destiny, spending their lives looking for their one true match. A hollowness filled only by your missing half.
You never knew which it was. There was no intense pull guiding you to search for a match or a shared longing with any of your partners. Until one overly considerate guy turns your world upside down.
a/n: I don't completely know what direction this story will take. However, forewarning, though I plan on keeping this mostly fluffy, I am a sucker for savior stories so expect there to be some sort of violence that the reader will need saving from. I will add warnings as the story progresses.
TILL DEATH IS NOT LONG ENOUGH . . . one - shot (18+)
pairing : gomez!san x morticia!f!reader
genre : addams family au, smut, established relationship
word count : 1.2k
warnings : unprotected sex, morning sex, cunninglingus, being woken up with sex (but its consensual in case you're wondering), püssy talk, püssydrunk!san, both san and yn are devoted to each other
note : surprise!! this is a late birthday present for my lovely braincell @sanjoongie who brought up gomez!san and i wanted to do this for her 🖤 i hope you enjoy braincell and you don't mind me doing this for you 🖤 also the fence border credits to @/enchanthings!! sorry i'm a little rusty on the writing 😖
you and san are shameless when it comes to each other. from the moment you wake up san makes sure you know how devoted he is to you.
the storm that had been raging on since last night had, unfortunately, subsided by the time you woke up the next morning. it was truly tragic to wake up without the sound of vicious thundering and rain hitting the windows, but oh what are you supposed to do?
well, at least you didn't wake up with two disappointments. your eyes fluttered open, sheets pulled aside and you glanced down to see san, your disturbingly handsome husband, in between your legs. his dark eyes already looking at you as his tongue runs between your folds. you let out a moan as you feed your fingers through his black strands and you make sure to tug a little on them.
san moans in response and it sends a vibration straight through your core as he goes to suck on your clit. his fingers dig into the flesh of your thighs as he pulls them further apart to the point of where they rest on his board shoulders.
you let out a soft laugh, "you devil, walking me up in the most sinful way."
"it is not sinful if you are my whole reason. i am devoted and wish to worship you," san replies back before he's diving back between your thighs. head moving from side to side as he begins to get lost in the taste of you. "she was calling out and gushing for me so badly, how could i possibly resist her."
ah, there he goes, talking about your pussy like it's a person. treating your pussy like a proper lady.
"would you think you're married and devoted to my cunt more than me, mister," you tease, knowing it will rile him up.
"not true, i'm only making sure every part of you is taken care of, and that includes this beautiful cunt. you could poison me with her taste and i would die the happiest man," he says, before goes back down to make-out with your lower lips. your juices spreading all over his lips and chin.
he looked like a ravaged mess and you adored it.
"mm, san," you moan out, pulling on his hair once more before you try to pull his whole body up towards you. san understands what you are doing and you can tell he reluctantly pulls away with a parting kiss before his body is hovering over yours.
you pull him down, his lips touching yours and he kisses you like its the only thing he knows how to do. san is passionate when he kisses you, tongue slipping into your mouth and you taste yourself on his tongue. his hands begin to roam over your body, having it memorized since the first time he touched you many, many moons ago. he would rather die than forget what your body feels like against his.
"my goddess, you are so perfect, i just can't help myself," he says when he pulls away from your lips.
"my wicked love, then don't hold back. show me how much you are devoted to me," you tell him, a sly smile gracing your lips that leaves him groaning as he's positioning his body more.
you run your hands down his board chest as his hands grip your thighs to spread them, so he could fit between them. his cock was already hard and straining against his abdomen, the tip an angry red as it began to slowly leak. he took his cock with one hand, letting the tip run through your folds. his tip kissing your clit as his pre-cum smear and mixes with your juices from earlier.
you let out a low moan, "don't tease, my love."
san barks out a laugh, head tilted back and he looked like some greek god as the dim lights of the chandelier above shined down on him. breathtaking. "sorry, sometimes i can't help but tease you. i love seeing you a little pouty."
he then slowly began to enter you, pushing his cock past your folds and inside you – almost bullying his cock into your pussy. when he got halfway in, he leaned back over you, his hands gripping your thighs as he threw your legs over his shoulders. "s-so good, feels sooooo good," he mumbles to himself once he's fully inside you.
"like every time i'm inside you, you were made to destroy me."
he starts to thrusts, his cock moving in and out, in and out between your warm walls. you watch his eyes roll back slightly, a deep groan leaving his throat as you squeeze around him every time he sheathes himself fully inside you.
"o-oh fuck, you feel too good... too perfect."
your arms wrap around his neck, one hand trailing down his back and leaving marks as his hips continue to snap into yours. his lips trailed down your skin as he whispered every sin he could think of. and every word lit a fire in your blood and made you crave for more.
his name was like a curse on your lips. your name was a prayer on his.
he continued to thrusts, a little more slower now as if he's trying to savor the feeling of you around him. you could tell he was growing closer to the edge as he managed to maneuver and reposition one of your legs to wrap around his waist. the new angle makes you moan as his cock hits your sweet spot at a new angle.
"my love, you're close~"
"of c-course i am, how could i not when you feel this a-amazing," he replies back, head falling into the crook of your neck. you feel his lips pressing open mouth kisses, tongue trailing over your skin. "taste so divine."
when you finally reach your orgasm, you let out a loud, drawn-out moan as you cling to san. san isn't far behind you, stilling inside you as he pumps you full of his cum. he moans into your skin before he's lifting his head and kissing you. lips slowly molding against yours as your hand runs through his hair and playing with the ends of his black strands.
you both felt ruined, like nothing else in this world mattered more than being together like this in such an intimate way. the world could fall apart and burn to the ground and you would still cling to him despite the wreckage and ash around you. he's all you needed, if you didn't have him then nothing else mattered. you were as devoted to him as he was to you.
san rolled off you, laying next to you and chest still heaving as he looked at you with a lazy grin. you turned your head to kiss his cheek, hand coming to rest gently on his chest.
"the storm might have stopped outside, but you sure caused one inside, my devil," you say and san tilted his head towards the ceiling as he laughed, pulling you to him so you could rest your head on his chest.
"you remind me every day why i'm glad i said i do," he says, "till death do us part~"
you hover just enough to press your lips to his, "till death is not long enough for us, my dear~"
✦ summary: the one where you run into yungi at the hotel bar the night before the concert and they can’t get enough of you.
✦ warnings/tags: MDNI! 18+, explicit, smut, oral sex (f receiving), oral sex (m receiving), threesome, light spanking, light choking, praise kink if you squint, fingering, cream pie (x2), unprotected sex, mingi is feral, yungi are freaks in the sheets but gentle and tender in the streets, they fall FAST and i know thats unrealistic idc, reader is a big girl (like me!) and a lil self conscious about it (like me!!) and the boys are having NONE of that, they worship her
✦ pairing: idol!yunho x fem!plussize!reader x idol!mingi
✦ author’s note: this is a repost of the first fic i ever wrote over a year ago, edited for minor details and things! the original does still exist on my page but i just wanted to repost and put this one back out there because it is SO near and dear to my heart (and i am ACTUALLY working on a part 2 right now). this fic is ENTIRELY self indulgent and i am so attached to the way yunho and mingi are in this story. i hope you love it ᰔ
“Mom, it’s beautiful. Thank you again for helping me stay here.”
Your mom is on speakerphone as you unpack your suitcase in a hotel room you could never afford to book for yourself. She always asks you to call her when you’ve made it to your destination, whether it’s just up the street or across the continent. You look around at the forest green walls and plush, intricate cream colored carpet. Walking over to the floor-to-ceiling windows, you pull back the lacy beige curtains to look down at the city below you.
“Of course, sweetie. Those points were just collecting dust, so I figured I should let someone put them to good use.” Your mom chuckles and lets out a soft sigh. She doesn’t travel often, but she’s very savvy with her credit cards to save up points for you to use on occasion.
“I appreciate it, this place just feels way too nice for me to be allowed to stay here,” you laugh as you carry your toiletry bag and bath sheet to the bathroom. Hotel towels tend to be small for you, so you’ve started bringing your own.
If the expensive artwork that adorned the lobby walls wasn’t enough to make you feel out of place, the crystal water glasses on the marble bathroom counter sure were. The whole hotel has a dark elegant aesthetic that you find absolutely breathtaking.
“You’ve been working hard lately, y/n. You deserve a break! I know it’s been a while since you’ve been able to take time off,” your mom reminds you.
You take a deep breath as you head back into the main room, recalling the frustrating conversation with your boss that led to you being able to be here. Work has felt impossible lately given how understaffed the office has been, and you practically had to beg for a few days off. She reluctantly agreed as long as you put in a few hours of overtime when you returned. You complied with zero hesitation— you’d do anything to make it to the concert.
“You’re right, I know. I’ll definitely be making the most of my time out of the office.” You wait for your mom’s reply as you start pulling clothes out of your open suitcase. After another beat of silence, she takes a deep breath.
“Be safe, honey. You know how I feel about you traveling alone.” You can hear her nerves through the phone. She’s such a worrier.
Putting your folded clothes in one of the ornate dresser drawers, you attempt to reassure her. “I know, I know. I’ll be meeting up with some friends tomorrow so I’ll be in good company. I’ll send lots of pictures, and you have my location.”
“Okay, okay. You’re right. You’re a big girl, I know you can take care of yourself.” She chuckles at herself for being so overbearing. “Have fun, honey. I can’t wait to see pictures.”
“I’ll send you so many pictures, you’ll regret asking for some,” you laugh as you zip up your empty suitcase to stash it in the closet.
After finishing up your phone call, you head for the bathroom to wash your face. Feeling tired after the long drive, you need a quick refresh before settling in for the evening. You woke up before sunrise to drive here, so a nap may be in order.
Once you’ve sufficiently dried your face with a towel that probably costs more than your face wash, you waltz over to your king sized bed and flop down belly first. Your eyes feel heavy as you let your body relax for what feels like the first time in weeks. You have a long weekend ahead of you, with two nights in a row of seeing your favorite boys, so you should rest while you can. You let your limbs sink into the plush mattress and allow yourself to drift off. Just a short nap, and then you’ll go get some dinner downstairs.
You wake with a jolt as your subconscious reminds you that you forgot to set an alarm. You frantically reach for your phone to check the time, letting out a deep sigh of relief when you see you’ve only slept an hour. You roll onto your back, dropping your phone next to you and rubbing your face in an attempt to get your body to catch up with your brain. Once your heart rate settles a bit you sit up in your still-made bed.
As you lay atop the fluffy comforter, your groggy mind wanders to the events of tomorrow. You run through your plans for the day, starting with brunch down the street with some friends you’ve made online. You haven’t seen them since the last tour, and you know it’ll be a tearful reunion. Having long distance internet friends is tough, but the time you get to spend together makes up for it, no matter how infrequent.
After brunch, you’ll all be heading to the venue. Following the pre-show excitement outside the venue, it’ll be time to line up for soundcheck. It’ll be your first time experiencing soundcheck for Ateez, and the thought of being so close to the members causes a familiar uneasiness to settle in the pit of your stomach.
Butterflies. Every night before going to a concert, you have uncontrollable butterflies in your stomach. The thrill of seeing your favorite boys onstage never fails to give you a physical reaction. You have been loving Ateez for years now and have seen them in concert a handful of times, but that same feeling creeps up on you the night before without fail.
Amidst the fluttering, you feel a deep rumbling in your stomach. You realize you haven’t eaten since you stopped to use the bathroom at a rest stop. Hopping out of bed, you go to your dresser to grab your go-to black loungewear set and throw it on. High waisted sweatpants that accentuate your waist, and a matching crop top. You head over to the dark wooden vanity and plop down in one of the two plush armchairs accompanying it to tidy up your hair. The massive ornate mirror gives you the perfect spot to get ready.
As you reach up to tame your bedhead, your shirt creeps up a tiny bit, exposing your belly. You eye the way it pokes out over the waistband, but try to brush off the self consciousness creeping up. It’s best to shut those thoughts down now before you let them win and just order room service. Once you’re happy with the way your hair is framing your face, you get away from the mirror before it makes you alter your plans for the evening.
Surely treating yourself to a fancy dinner and a few drinks at the hotel bar will settle your nerves about tomorrow.
Two glasses of white wine and a plate full of pasta later, you find yourself ogling at the crystal chandeliers hanging above the bar. You make a mental note to do something special for your mom as a thank you. You adjust in the velvet barstool, trying to get the bartender's attention to order another glass of wine. A faintly familiar laugh ghosts past your ears, but you brush it off and continue your attempt to make eye contact with the bartender. Who would you possibly see here that you knew anyway? All your friends were staying at a hotel much closer to the concert venue.
Finally, the bartender’s eyes connect with yours, lighting up in recognition that you may need to add another drink to your tab. A heavy pour of pinot grigio later, she’s trotting off to the next guest. Taking a long sip of your wine, you hear another familiar laugh from the other end of the bar. Different from the last one, but still familiar. Letting your curiosity get the best of you, you glance down the bar to find the source of the warm laughter.
By some devastating stroke of fate, he looks at you the moment you look at him. As soon as your eyes meet his, your heart stops in your chest. You can feel the blood rush to your cheeks, and your hearing gets fuzzy. All the bar patrons chatting around you suddenly sound like they’re talking underwater. Everyone else in the room seems to fade away, and it feels as though it’s only you and him. You feel a thudding pulse in your chest as your heart jumps back to life.
His dark eyes shine with a mischievous glint as they refuse to leave yours. Your breath hitches in your chest when he smiles at you. You turn back to your wine in an attempt to hide the bright red cheeks you’re surely sporting. The sounds of the bar come rushing back into your ears and hit you like a freight train. The music, the chatter, the clinking of glasses are deafening as your rationality claws its way to the forefront of your brain. You down a sizable gulp of your drink, feeling your cheeks heat even more.
Absolutely not. No way. No chance in hell. Your mind is running a mile a minute trying to come up with any excuse as to who you think you just saw. How could you have ended up at the same hotel as them? You thought surely they’d stay somewhere even farther from the venue to avoid running into fans. It must just be some other devilishly handsome man with the warmest smile you’ve ever laid eyes on. Just a coincidence, for sure. You brush away the unruly hair that’s fallen in your face before turning to sneak another look.
Staring right back at you with a knowing grin is none other than Jeong Yunho himself. In your starstruck stupor you failed to notice the equally tall, broad shouldered blond man whom you realize was the owner of the second familiar laugh you heard. Yunho must’ve drawn his attention to you after your little staring contest, inspiring him to start one of his own. Song Mingi’s dark brown eyes burn into yours, sporting the same smirk as his best friend.
They both look devastatingly gorgeous. Barefaced, wearing oversized t-shirts and sweatpants, and they still look ethereal. Mingi has thin, black framed glasses perched on his slender nose. Yunho’s damp, dark hair peeks out from under a baseball cap. Seeing them stripped of anything that identifies them as idols makes your heart lurch. They look so… real.
You suddenly wish you put a little more effort into your solo dining outfit, feeling hyper aware of the way your midriff is showing again. You tug your shirt down a bit, adjusting in your seat to hide as best you can.
You take a sharp inhale as you realize how long your eyes have lingered on your two favorite idols. You turn back to face the bar, frantically searching for the bartender despite your half full glass of wine. After you close your tab, you can retreat back into your oversized hotel bed and pretend this never happened. Feeling their eyes burning into the back of your head and hearing their familiar voices quietly murmuring, you know that they know you recognized them. You’re sure they’re talking about wanting to enjoy their evening without the prying eyes of a fan — not that your eyes were the ones prying.
You let your mind wander after your third failed attempt to flag down the bartender. The way they were looking at you was not out of annoyance… but intrigue. Is it possible that they’re interested in you? Was Yunho’s knowing look not recognition of you as a fan, but something more flirtatious? That would be insane… Right?
Curiosity killed the cat.
You take a deep breath and turn to face them once again, puffing your chest out to feign more confidence than you’re feeling. Before you can even process that they were already walking towards you when you spun your barstool in their direction, Yunho is sitting to your left and Mingi on your right. They both synchronously set their whisky glasses on the bar.
“…Hi.” You manage to squeak out a quiet greeting.
You feel yourself shrinking between them as they look at you in silence. They’re so big.
Despite how fondly they’re looking at you, the back of your mind is screaming at you that you’re encroaching on their evening. You should go back to your room to give them privacy.
You nervously glance between the two men before letting all your thoughts out. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable by…looking at you for so long, um, I-I’m sure the last thing you two want the night before a concert is a fan ogling at you from across the bar.” As you look at Yunho, you miss the way Mingi admires how well your round hips fill out your black sweatpants. The way your top rides up exposes a teasing glimpse of your skin, and he wonders if you feel as soft as you look.
Still oblivious, you continue your rambling. “As soon as I can close my tab,” Mingi drags his gaze from your exposed skin to your eyes as you turn to him, “I’ll get out of your hair so you guys can enjoy the rest of your evening.” As you hopelessly attempt for the fourth time to get the bartender's attention, Yunho kicks Mingi in the shin behind your barstool for looking at you like he wants to swallow you whole. He shoots him a glare that screams: Be a gentleman. Mingi chuckles lowly at his friend's silent warning and takes a sip of his whisky.
The bartender finally turns in your direction. Your hand is about to shoot up to flag her down, but you’re stopped dead in your tracks by the low timbre of Yunho’s voice.
“What if we don’t want you to leave?”
You turn to him in disbelief. Before you can stop yourself, the words leave your lips. “You want me to stay?”
All your life, you’ve shied away from attention. Not that attention was often given to you, but when it was, it was hardly positive. You’ve slowly become more and more comfortable in your body, learning to dress in ways that you feel accentuate your curves rather than hide them. It’s easy to momentarily retreat back into the mindset of the little girl who was surrounded by judgment. Now is one of those moments.
As if he could hear your thoughts, Mingi chimes in from behind you, his voice lower than Yunho’s. He feels closer to you than he was a moment ago, his scent of sage and jasmine mixed with the whisky on his breath intoxicating you. “What’s wrong with wanting to spend time with a pretty girl?” His deep voice sends a chill down your spine, and a familiar pool of warmth settles in the pit of your stomach. Get it together y/n, Song Mingi just called you pretty, what’s the big deal?
Noticing the reaction Mingi’s compliment elicited from you, Yunho realizes he needs to ground you so they can get a concrete answer to their proposal. The last thing he wants is a hazy agreement clouded by alcohol and attraction.
“What’s your name, doll?” He asks. Your heart skips at the pet name, but you try to keep your reaction internal.
“Y/n.” Your voice comes out barely above a whisper. Yunho chuckles at your shyness.
“Cute. Well, y/n, given how desperately you’ve been trying to get away from us, it’s clear that you respect our privacy. We’re not bothered by your presence in the slightest, in fact it’s quite the opposite.” Yunho smiles softly as he expresses his gratitude. You feel a blush creeping up your cheeks again at his recognition of your attempted escape. “Can we buy you a drink? If you still want to run away afterwards, we’ll help you lace up your shoes.”
Three rounds of drinks and two hours later, you find yourself laughing in a corner booth listening to Yunho and Mingi poke fun at their leader. The bar has cleared out, leaving you three and one other table.
“I can’t believe he already lost the team ring,” Yunho chokes out between giggles. His cheeks are flushed from his second glass of whisky, eyes shining at the server as he places down a third.
“How many pairs of Airpods has he gone through? I don’t know why he thought he could keep track of an expensive piece of jewelry.” Mingi rolls his eyes and chuckles thinking about Hongjoong’s complicated history with headphones.
“Be nice, he bought you guys those rings didn’t he?” You wipe the tears from your eyes after finally catching your breath. Hearing them so freely joke about their leader’s habit of losing things has left you in stitches. After a quick sip of the whisky that Mingi talked you into trying, you continue. “The least you can do is all pitch in to buy him a replacement.”
Yunho laughs at your suggestion, placing his glass down next to yours. “You don’t have to defend him, y/n.” He takes your hand in his, and you try not to make it obvious how the size difference affects you. “Even if we did get him a new one, who’s to say he won’t lose that one too?”
He absentmindedly rubs his large thumb across the back of your hand. You softly clear your throat in an attempt to silence the fangirl screaming in your head that he’s touching you.
Yunho must’ve mistook your response for discomfort and he pulls his hand away. The last thing he wants is to make you uneasy. If he only knew. You almost let out a whine at the loss of contact, but reel it in before it’s too late. Be cool, y/n.
Mingi picks up on your inner dialogue and wants nothing more than to resolve the tension. Yunho may not notice it, but Mingi sees the way your breath hitches whenever one of them gets close to you. He saw the way heat rushed to your cheeks when Yunho complimented the color of your eyes. He noticed how shy you became when he caught your gaze lingering on his lips. He even picked up on the curious challenge in your eyes when you caught him looking at the strip of skin between your top and the waistband of your sweatpants that he just can’t get enough of.
He sees that glimmer of confidence trying to shine through. He knows you can be bold, but he may need to force it out of you.
“It’s getting awfully late Yuyu, don’t you think?” Yunho looks at Mingi , his gaze laced with confusion. Your heart rate quickens at the thought of your evening coming to an end.
“Mingi, it’s 9:30.” Yunho looks at his friend quizzically, not understanding where he’s going with this. Mingi can tell if you don’t stop the night from ending early, Yunho will. Yunho wants you just as bad as Mingi does.
“Right, but we have a long day tomorrow. Don’t you think we should turn in soon?” Mingi side eyes you, but your nervous gaze lands on Yunho, awaiting his response. When his answer is just another confused look in Mingi’s direction, you decide to take matters into your own hands.
“Actually…” you take a deep breath. You fail to notice the way the corner of Mingi’s mouth quirks up, as if he already knows what’s coming. “I was going to offer up a few bottles of soju I have in my room? I brought them for my friends and I for tomorrow, but I can always grab more at the liquor store down the street. I feel like I owe you guys for the last few rounds anyway.” You swirl your big ice cube around your glass, watching it melt into your drink as you avoid eye contact with the men staring back at you.
There she is. Mingi gleams with pride as he waits for Yunho to catch up. After a beat of silence, Mingi hears a soft sigh of realization from Yunho, followed by a subtle under-the-table high five. They’re going to love playing with you.
“We would love that,” Yunho says with a mischievous smile.
It’s endearing to Yunho and Mingi how palpably nervous you are. You used up all of your courage to ask them up to your room, and you’ve retreated once again into your overthinking mind. You’re perched cautiously on the edge of your large bed, that earlier felt so safe to you. Bouncing your leg and staring at the floor, you’re wondering if the impulsive invitation you extended was the right decision. If you would just look up from the elegant detailing of the carpeting, you’d see how softly they were admiring you. Mingi can’t keep his eyes off of your plump thighs, imagining how they would feel on either side of his —
“Y/n, can I get you a drink?” Yunho asks, interrupting Mingi’s thoughts. Mingi burns a hole in Yunho’s cheek before turning to you, softening his gaze and awaiting your reply. They're sitting in the two lush armchairs accompanying the vanity, having turned them around to face you. Mingi’s legs are crossed, his cheeks are flushed, and his glasses are pushed up into his spiky blond hair. He’s gently gripping the arms of his chair, fiddling with a button fastened to the fabric, resisting the urge to show you how much he wants you right then and there.
Yunho’s legs are spread wide, and he’s perched up on his elbows, resting them on his knees. He’s taken his hat off, leaving it on your vanity. His dark hair loosely hangs over his forehead. “It feels odd to ask you that in your own hotel room,” he chuckles, finally getting you to look him in the eyes. Mingi looks you up and down with an unreadable smirk and bated breath.
“Yes please,” you replied softly, giving him a shy smile.
“You got it, where’s the soju?” Yunho replies, sitting up in his chair to over exaggerate his curious glance around the room.
“In the mini fridge,” you point down the hallway toward the bathroom, “it’s tucked away in the closet by the front door.” Before you can finish your sentence, he’s up and moving down the hallway.
In his absence, you glance at the big mirror propped on the vanity behind Mingi. Unbeknownst to you, you’re both looking where your crop top has shifted up once again and having very different thoughts on your bare stomach. Mingi wants to see more of you, yet you can’t look at it another second, pulling your top down to meet your waistband. It creeps up slowly again, a deep sigh of defeat leaving your lips.
Mingi feels your insecurity radiating off of you, seeing the way your brow furrows at yourself in the mirror. If only you saw what he and Yunho did.
He clears his throat, “y/n,” he says softly,
“Hm?” Your gaze softens as you look to him, immediately taken aback by the sheer adoration in his eyes, and you realize he was just watching you that whole time.
He chuckles at your realization, “you look incredible in that outfit,” he says, looking you up and down with a grin.
You feel a blush creeping up your cheeks “Mingi, I —“
The sound of rustling and clinking from down the hallway grabs both of your attention. Yunho reappears, balancing two bottles of soju and three crystal glasses in his large hands. “I missed my calling as a server,” he laughs, handing you and Mingi each a glass and cracking open the first bottle. In the silence he can sense your nerves and Mingi’s eagerness, wholly unaware of the interaction the two of you just had.
“Y/n, I can feel you thinking. Can I speak freely?” He tilts his head at you like a puppy, a look of genuine concern in his eyes. His sudden change in demeanor takes you by surprise.
“Of course, Yunho,” you reply, trying to put on a brave face.
“You have no reason to be so nervous with us,” Yunho starts, “we wouldn’t have spent the last few hours with you if we didn’t want to. We’ve had a lot of fun with you tonight, and we said yes to coming up here so we could continue to get to know you better, not just to be nice,” he says, as if he had read your mind. He pours a bit of soju into your glass, then Mingi’s, then his. The silence is palpable as you wait to see if he has more to say, Mingi not giving any non verbal clues as to how he’s feeling. He looks like he wants to say something but decides not to, letting his friend take the lead.
Yunho places his soju down on the vanity and walks over to you, squatting down to meet your eyes. The close proximity makes your cheeks warm, only worsening when he plants his hands next to your hips on the mattress, his thumbs grazing you. He smells like citrus and leather. “If you’re uncomfortable and want us to leave, we will. If not, we’d like to,” he glances at Mingi, who gives him a small nod, then back to you, “enjoy our night together.”
His eyes search yours, and you wonder if he can hear your chest thudding at the implications. They like you. You don’t know if it’s Yunho’s intoxicating scent or the way Mingi can’t look away from your exposed belly, but something compels you to finally let go of all the negativity that has been plaguing your brain all evening.
“Yes, please,” you sigh, suddenly breathless. Yunho glances down at your lips, then back to your eyes, inching closer to you. You feel dizzy being this close to him, the sudden onset of lust in his eyes making your head spin. Now that he knows you want him too, he’s not ashamed to let his intentions show.
Mingi stands up from behind Yunho, clearing his throat, effectively shaking you and Yunho out of your desire-fueled gaze. He picks up both of their glasses of soju, passing Yunho’s to him.
“Cheers,” he says, “to our paths crossing tonight.” He looks expectantly to the two of you, spurring both of you to stand up and raise your glasses. “Cheers,” you and Yunho say almost in unison, giddily clinking your glasses with Mingi’s and downing your drinks. You feel your face warming up as the alcohol burns its way down your throat, the tension in your muscles dissipating.
“Do your cheeks always get so flushed when you drink?” Yunho asks, a fond smile dancing across his lips. You laugh, walking to your bedside table to set your glass down. “Unfortunately, yes,” you say as you turn back toward him, your heart swelling at him noticing such a small detail about you.
“Cute,” he comments, stepping toward you and brushing a stray piece of hair out of your face. Your breath quickens at the compliment, his thumb gently caressing your cheek as you look eagerly into his warm brown eyes.
“I think she liked that,” you glance over Yunho’s shoulder to see Mingi grinning at your reaction. He takes the glasses off of his head to set them on the vanity. “Give her another compliment,” he says, stepping around Yunho to brush the hair off of your shoulder, exposing the column of your neck.
”Is that right, doll?” Yunho asks, his fingers ghosting down your neck to fiddle with your necklace, the pet name he used with you earlier in the evening sending a rush of arousal straight to your core. You nod, lips parted and breathing heavily. Your body feels like it’s on fire.
“If it’s compliments you want, it’s compliments you’ll get,” Yunho releases the chain around your neck and steps behind you, gently placing one of his large hands on your exposed waist. “You have the most beautiful body I’ve ever seen,” he teases, softly squeezing your supple skin before sliding his hand around to your belly and pulling you in flush to his chest. You let out a breathless laugh, putting your hand over his and threading your fingers together. You tilt your head to the side to lean into him, desperately wanting his mouth on your neck.
“How’re you feeling?” Mingi approaches you, softly taking your other hand in his, caressing it with his thumb. Yunho’s grip loosens on your belly, but you lean into him so he knows not to let go. You hear a soft chuckle of understanding from behind you.
“We aren’t misreading things, are we?” Mingi looks at you, a hint of cautious concern lingering under his lust blown gaze.
“Absolutely not,” you say, gripping his hand and pulling him closer to you.
After a beat of heavy breathing and searching eyes, you throw caution to the wind and let go of Mingi’s hand to bring yours up to his face, gently threading your fingers into his hair. He leans into your hand, letting his eyes close as he relishes in your touch. He lets out a breathy moan, letting his mouth hang open.
“We’re so glad we found you,” Yunho says, almost in a whisper against the shell of your ear, his hot breath down your neck causing your body to shiver in anticipation. Mingi nods in agreement into your palm, opening his eyes to get a good look at you.
“You are breathtaking,” Mingi gingerly wraps his hand around the back of your neck and you wish for a moment that he would stop being so gentle with you. “Y/n, please,” he asks, his breath heaving, “can I kiss you?” The desperation in his voice almost makes your knees give out.
You let out a giggle mixed with a sigh of relief, “I was thinking I’d have to start begging you,” you lean closer to him waiting for him to make his move. The image of you on your knees for him flashes through Mingi’s mind, pushing him over the edge as he crashes his lips into yours.
The hand on the back of your neck threads up into your hair as he presses further into your mouth, parting your lips with his tongue. You invite him in with a whine, gripping his hair to pull him closer. You feel crowded between the two of them, Mingi pushing you further back into Yunho. Yunho inhales sharply at the feeling of you pressed against him, letting out a low groan into your ear. Mingi coasts his large palm up to your waist as he explores your mouth, finally able to feel the skin of your stomach he had been fixated on all night. His fingers dance along your exposed belly, and he savors how soft you feel.
“Touch me Min, please,” you sigh, pushing your ass further back into Yunho. You feel him getting harder with each pulse of contact, and the thought of him getting hard for you has your mind reeling.
“You sound so pretty when you’re needy,” Mingi whispers, kissing down your jawline and settling on your neck. His hand creeps up underneath the thin fabric of your shirt as he ghosts his fingers along the underside of your bra. “Ask him again, sweetheart,” Yunho sighs behind you, you can feel Mingi smiling as he nips and sucks on your throat.
“Mingi, please —“ your words stop in your throat as Yunho’s hot mouth descends on the other side of your neck. You moan softly, reaching for both of them. They’re driving you insane — you want more, you want them closer, you need to feel their skin on yours.
”Have something to say, doll?” Yunho teases, sucking at the skin just below your ear, releasing with a pop and planting a kiss to your hair.
“I need someone to touch me right now or I’m gonna scream,” you whine, pressing your ass into Yunho and your chest toward Mingi, clinging to them like your life depends on it. You feel them everywhere but still not where you need them most. The deep pulsing in your core gets more and more intense with every kiss, lick, and frantic touch. “Please —“ you groan at a particularly sharp nip at your neck, followed by Mingi’s hot wet tongue to soothe you, “please, fuck, I need you,”
“I’m gonna need you to be a little more specific baby,” Mingi whispers, “need me where?” He pauses his assault on your neck to shift his hand to cup one of your breasts. “Here?” Your head knocks back into the firm plane of Yunho’s chest.
“Or here?” Yunho asks, boldly snaking his hand down to cup your heat, a whine leaving your lips.
“Anywhere, everywhere,” you pant, attempting to spread your legs to give Yunho better access. He pushes the heel of his hand down firmly on your pubic bone, drawing a whine up your throat. Mingi chuckles at your desperate mewls and it suddenly feels impossibly hot in your hotel room. “I want you to take my clothes off,” you sigh, running one hand up Mingi’s chest and the other around the back of Yunho’s neck, “and I want to feel your hands on every inch of my body.”
You turn your head to look up to Yunho, and he finally presses his lips to yours ever so gently. “There she is,” he smirks, sighing into your mouth as his tongue pokes out to swipe across your bottom lip.
“Anything for you, baby,” Mingi resumes his attack on your neck, and in a sea of sloppy kisses, whiny moans, and wandering hands, one of your lovers manages to pull your shirt up and off over your head. Yunho spins you around to face him, never breaking the kiss. You feel Mingi blindly fumbling with the clasp on your bra, finally freeing your breasts from their confines.
Yunho’s lips leave yours, his eyes wandering down to your exposed chest. He pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue, letting out a low groan. “Look at you, baby,” Mingi coos from behind you, “even prettier than I imagined they’d be,” he reaches around you to palm your plump breast, rolling one of your pebbled nipples between his rough fingers. “You look like a goddess,” he sighs, bringing his mouth to your neck once again.
“Couldn’t have said it better myself,” Yunho ducks his head down to catch your other nipple between his teeth, immediately soothing the bite with his tongue, “so fucking beautiful,” you lean into their touch, suddenly feeling so raw, an exposed nerve.
The praise paired with the both of them working your body like they’ve known it for years is overwhelming, the intimacy of it all tugging at your starved heart. It feels delicious, but you haven’t felt this cared for in a long time. You pinch your eyes closed to stop the tears, but the tightness in your throat causes your breath to tremble before you can stop it. Their movements still at the sound as they both realize the shift in emotion, arms and hands quickly surrounding you for comfort.
“Hey, hey, what is it, doll?” Yunho holds your face in his hands as he brushes a tear from your cheek. You open your eyes to see both of them looking down at you with concerned gazes.
“I-I’m sorry,” you start tapping each finger to your thumb, counting each one to calm your breathing, “I don’t want you to stop, it’s just a little overwhelming, in a good way,” you reach for Yunho’s cheek and Mingi’s hand simultaneously, needing to reassure them both that you just need a minute. They reciprocate your touch without hesitation.
“You’re just making me feel really fucking special and worshipped and I’m not used to it, it’s— a lot,” Yunho turns to kiss your palm, waiting for your breathing to even. You feel Mingi’s other hand rubbing circles into your lower back, the motion helping bring you back down to earth. Slowly but surely, your breathing steadies.
“You are special, y/n,” Mingi says, almost in a whisper, “and we want to worship you, it’s what you deserve,” he dips down, searching your eyes. You nod, signaling for him to continue. He nods right back, placing a tender kiss on your lips that knocks the wind right out of you.
“Let us worship you,” he sighs against your lips, gently kissing the corner of your mouth, your nose, your forehead, settling against your temple. His lips are so soft, peppering gentle kisses along your hairline.
”Do you trust us, sweetheart?” Yunho asks, still leaning into your palm.
“Of course I do,” you brush your thumb across his cheek.
“Let us take care of you,” he looks down at your chest and you see the lust reignite in his dark eyes.
“Take care of me,” you repeat. Yunho’s breath quickens as he meets your eyes again. You’re suddenly aware that your chest is exposed when they’re both still fully clothed, “but can someone else please take their clothes off too?” Yunho and Mingi both laugh at your straightforwardness, but the energy shifts when you run your hand down Yunho’s chest, stopping at the hem of his shirt.
Yunho nods and you pull his shirt off together. You marvel at his firm chest and his lean muscles, letting your eyes wander over every inch of his bare skin. Before you can catch your breath, he shucks off his sweats and is standing before you in just his boxer briefs. “Your turn,” he chuckles, pulling you towards him by the band of your sweatpants. You giggle, catching yourself on his chest and weaving your hands up around the back of his neck.
Mingi watches the two of you affectionately as Yunho dives down the back of your pants to cup your ass in his large hands. Mingi helps you shimmy out of your sweats, watching the way your plush skin molds to the grip of Yunho’s slender fingers. Mingi can’t resist any longer, wrapping his arms around your waist, effectively sandwiching you between the two of them once again. Your scent of lavender fills his nose as he buries his face in your neck again, intoxicating him. He wants you, badly.
”Yun, I wanna taste her,” he shivers with desire, the sudden change in his tone of voice drawing your attention to him. “Baby, can I taste you?” His eyes are dark as he searches yours. You feel a gush of arousal pooling in your panties, nodding before your mouth can get the words out,
“Yes, please, Mingi,” you lean into him. He plants a quick kiss to your temple, letting out a shaky sigh. Is he… nervous?
Yunho lets go of you to climb onto your bed and you watch him intently, trying to figure out how this is going to play out. He leans up against the headboard and makes space for you between his legs. You see his boxers starting to tent, and you know the anticipation of what’s to come is affecting him.
“Come here, doll,” he pats the bedding in front of him. Your belly warms as you realize how they’re about to position you.
Mingi slides his hands from your waist so you can go to Yunho, giving your ass a light smack as he lets you go. You give Mingi a teasing glare, earning a devious smirk in return.
You crawl to Yunho across the mattress on your hands and knees, agonizingly slowly, watching him watch your every move with hunger in his eyes. You make a show of looking him up and down, darting your tongue out to wet your lips.
“You are such a tease,” he lets out a breathy laugh, his comment only fueling your confidence. His chest heaves, glistening with sweat.
Mingi palms himself over his sweats with his eyes glued to the sway of your round ass. Running your hands over Yunho’s knees, up his thighs, and settling on his hips, you lean into him to plant a bruising kiss on his lips. He pushes his hips upward, looking for any kind of friction against your body, but you don’t give it to him, solely focused on his tongue exploring your mouth. He ghosts a hand up over your neck to wrap his slender fingers around your throat, gently squeezing before pulling his mouth from yours. He groans at the string of saliva connecting the two of you.
“I could do this all night, sweetheart, but I don’t think you wanna keep him waiting any longer,” Yunho nods in Mingi’s direction. Before you can turn to look at him, Yunho tightens his grip on your throat, pulling your attention back to him.
“Be a good girl, and turn around and lay down.” The deep, dominant tone of his voice has you nodding immediately, earning you a tender kiss to your forehead before he releases you.
When you turn around, your jaw drops. Mingi stands shirtless at the foot of the bed with his hand down his pants. His strong chest heaves, slick with sweat, and the muscles in his arm flex with each stroke of his cock. His eyes are clouded with lust, his lips slightly parted, letting out jagged breaths. You don’t break eye contact as you settle between Yunho’s legs, leaning back against his chest.
He leans down to whisper in your ear, “buckle up, doll, he’s very passionate about eating pussy,”
“Oh,” you whimper at the way Mingi is looking at you— like he wants to consume you. You realize what you interpreted as nervousness was actually him restraining himself. He is absolutely feral for you, and he’s about to let it out.
Before you can catch your breath, Mingi is on his belly between your legs, kissing and nipping at the insides of your thighs while he weaves your legs over his shoulders. His hands find purchase on your belly and he gently grips your soft skin, running his hot tongue over the marks he’s surely leaving on you. His mouth feels electric on your skin, and you want more.
“Fuck, Mingi,” you pant.
“Tell him what you want, sweetheart,” Yunho breathes against your ear, “he’ll do whatever you want,” he cups your breasts in his hands, massaging them gently with his slender fingers.
”Mmhm,” Mingi groans in agreement against you as he licks a firm stripe along your clothed heat, causing a whine to crawl up your throat.
“I wanna feel your mouth, Min, please,” you run your fingers through his hair, “really feel it,” you grind your hips down onto his mouth, desperate for him.
“Needy baby,” he briefly pulls his mouth from you, taking a moment to admire how beautiful you look in Yunho’s arms, letting his eyes linger on you. Your eyes blown wide with desire, your lips puffy, your chest heaving, your breasts gently cradled in Yunho’s hands.
“Mingi,” you laugh breathlessly, smiling coyly, “why are you staring at me like that?”
“Because, gorgeous,” he pushes himself up onto his knees, running his hands up your thighs and around your hips, “I know I’ve barely had you,” he hooks his fingers under your panties, “but I already can’t get enough of you.” He taps your hips with his thumbs, signaling you to lift them.
You feel a blush creeping up your cheeks as he peels the damp cloth from your body, discarding it on the floor. A sudden rush of embarrassment takes over now that you’re fully bare, but Mingi stops you before you can close your legs.
“Don’t get shy on me now, darling,” he runs his hands up your inner thighs as he spreads them wide, “let me see you,” he lowers his gaze to your core, a devious glint in his eyes as the corner of his mouth quirks up.
“What a pretty little cunt you have,” he settles between your legs again, his breath on your wet heat causing your body to shiver.
“Mingi, please stop teasing me,” you squirm under their strong grasps on your body, Yunho rolling your nipples between his fingers and Mingi kneading the soft skin of your thighs.
“If you say so,” he nips at your skin, “I’ve been waiting all night for this.”
Mingi licks you firmly from your entrance to your clit, finding the sensitive bud with ease and circling it with the tip of his tongue. You let out a cry at the sudden sensation, bucking your hips toward his mouth. He pulls you closer to him, dragging your thighs up onto his shoulders once again. His hands wrap around your hips and he squeezes your supple skin as he closes his mouth around your clit, sucking gently.
“Oh my—“ you gasp at the sensation, and heat rushes to your center, the pressure building.
“How does it feel, sweetheart?” Yunho asks from behind you, brushing your hair back to plant a kiss on the pulse point of your neck. “Does his mouth feel good on you?”
You nod fervently, threading your fingers through Mingi’s blond hair again to pull him closer. He feels your signal and sucks your clit a little harder, a moan leaving your mouth as you let your head fall back into the crook of Yunho’s neck. You feel the warm bubble in your core growing, until Mingi’s mouth pops off of you briefly.
You almost protest but are cut off when he quickly reconnects, licking you down to your entrance, his nose bumping your clit as he pushes his tongue inside of you. He looks up at you through his lashes, his eyes rolling back in his head as you clench around his tongue.
“Feels so good, fuck,” your grind down onto his mouth, needing more inside than he’s granting you. “Mingi please, I need more,” you pant, looking down at him.
He chuckles against you, swiftly running his tongue up through your heat and pulling away to rest his head on your thigh. “What do you need, angel?” He smiles softly up at you, the evidence of your arousal glistening on his chin. He massages your hips while he waits for your response, leaning into your palm as you run it down his cheek.
”I want your f-fingers,” you whine, wiggling your hips underneath his hands.
”Ask nicely, baby,” his voice drips with amusement. He nips at your thigh, dragging a groan up your throat.
“Mingi, please,” you sound absolutely shameless in the way that you’re begging him, “I’ll do anything,”
”Mingi, stop teasing,” Yunho coos over your shoulder, his voice low and husky, “she’s been so good for us, don’t you think she deserves a reward?”
“Hmm,” Mingi’s hand disappears from your hip, “I suppose so,” you feel his fingers graze your inner thigh, slowly moving where you need them most. “Do you think you deserve it, y/n?” He softly runs his fingers through your cunt, gathering arousal from your core.
“I do, please, baby,” you beg. He grins at you, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek as he slowly pushes two fingers inside of you. He watches your eyes roll back and flutter closed, a satisfied sigh leaving your mouth.
Yunho marvels at the way your face twists in pleasure as Mingi stretches you on his fingers, your moans music to their ears. He drags them out and pushes back in the tiniest bit faster and deeper, increasing his pace with each thrust. The heavenly stretch ignites something deep in your core.
“So tight,” his breath is hot on your center, “still need more, angel?”
You nod, biting your bottom lip as your words get stuck in your throat. Mingi clicks his tongue at you, “needy,” he chuckles, curling his fingers inside of you, your back arching in pleasure.
Yunho’s hand coasts up to your neck, gently wrapping his long fingers around your throat and squeezing firmly. “Tell us what you need sweetheart,” he taunts, “use your words.” He puts more pressure on either side of your airway, the lack of oxygen making you feel deliciously dizzy.
“I need you to touch me Yun, please,” you struggle to get the words out through his strong grip on your throat, getting distracted by Mingi splitting you open. You let your legs fall from Mingi’s shoulders, spreading your thighs as wide as you can manage, presenting yourself to Yunho.
A satisfied groan leaves Yunho’s mouth as he releases you to run his hand up your jaw and brush his fingers across your bottom lip. You gasp to catch your breath, leaving your mouth open to invite him in, and he pushes two of his fingers past your lips. Mingi slows down, watching the two of you in a daze while he lazily pumps his fingers in and out of you. Without hesitation you close your lips around Yunho’s fingers, sucking lightly and bobbing your head, your glazed over eyes not leaving his.
“Good girl,” Yunho pants, “you’re so pretty when you beg.” You clench around Mingi’s fingers at Yunho’s words, and you hear him chuckle from between your legs. He loves being able to feel your body reacting to the praise you’re receiving. You swirl your tongue around Yunho’s fingers, then release them with a pop.
Yunho inches closer to you, his eyes wide with hunger. You let out a soft whine when the tip of his nose brushes yours, his hot breath thickening the air between you. He’s almost challenging you by not kissing you right away, allowing his bottom lip to brush yours, but pulling back when you try to lean closer.
“Yunnie,” you whimper, pushing yourself down onto Mingi’s fingers as much as you could muster, “please,”
“Hm?” Yunho teases, drawing your bottom lip into his mouth and sucking on it gently. Your breathing turns unsteady and he chuckles. “Look at you,” he nips at your lip, a growl crawling up his throat, “if you’re begging like this for my fingers, I can’t wait to watch you beg for my cock.”
You whimper as he finally kisses you, and it’s catalytic. The moment his lips touch yours, the tension that had been building between the three of you all night long finally comes to a peak, and all control is lost.
Mingi bites down hard on your thigh, soothing the spot with his tongue and fucking you faster with his fingers, twisting his wrist slightly with each thrust. Yunho swallows your moans as he runs his wet fingers down your body, easily finding your clit and circling it firmly. The contact makes your head spin, a bolt of heat shooting to your center as you let out a shameless whine into his mouth.
You feel the pressure building with each rub and thrust, the feeling of both of them touching you almost too much to take. You weave your fingers through Yunho’s hair, pulling him closer to you. He bites down on your bottom lip, rubbing you faster with pointed precision. Sinful sounds fill the air around you; Mingi’s heavy breathing, your desperate whining, Yunho’s deep groaning, the sound of their fingers moving through your arousal.
“Fuck, I’m s-so close,” you cry, closing your eyes to focus on their ministrations.
“Help me out, Min,” Yunho pulls away from you briefly and you whine, your growing orgasm fading away. You look down at Mingi as he pulls his fingers out of you. You’re about to cry out in protest when he pops his fingers into his mouth, making a show of licking your arousal from them.
“Oh,” you marvel at the way his eyes roll back at the taste of you, your chest heaving, “Mingi, please,”
“I got you, baby,” he coos, pulling his fingers from his mouth and returning them to your entrance. He nods to Yunho as he pushes his soaked fingers back inside of you. Responding to his friend’s signal, Yunho spreads you open as Mingi spits directly on your clit.
“Jesus Christ,” you sob, throwing your head back.
“Not quite,” Mingi chuckles, resuming his relentless pace.
Yunho finds your clit again, gathering Mingi’s saliva on his fingers. The added lubrication has Yunho’s fingers gliding over and around your swollen bud. The two men quickly match their pace to one another and you feel your impending climax building in your core again.
“Oh my —“ Yunho cuts you off with a firm kiss, groaning into your mouth. His tongue tangles with yours, bringing you closer and closer to the edge.
“You’ve been so good for us baby,” Mingi says from between your legs, watching his fingers disappear inside of you. “Let go, I wanna feel you come around my fingers.”
“Come on, sweetheart,” Yunho grabs a handful of your hair, pulling your head to the side for better access. “Show us how good we’re making you feel,” he buries his face in your neck, licking and sucking on your skin.
“Mhm,” Mingi hums in agreement, pushing up onto his knees to pop one of your nipples into his mouth. He swirls his tongue around it as he pistons his fingers even faster, hitting that sweet spot inside of you.
“God, right there,” your eyes screw shut as the pressure builds and builds, but a firm nip to your chest makes you open them again to look down at him.
”Look at me,” Mingi growls, “I want to watch you fall apart, baby.” You nod wordlessly as his mouth reconnects with your nipple. A familiar heat settles in your belly at his words, and the determination in his dark eyes only fuels the fire. He feels your walls tighten around his fingers, and he knows that you’re almost there.
“I’m s-so close,” you cry, your legs starting to tremble. Mingi splays his free hand across one of your thighs to hold you open.
“That’s our good girl,” Yunho breathes against your skin, “come for us, beautiful,”
The praise is what pushes you over the edge, your head spinning at Yunho’s words. He rubs you just right as Mingi curls his fingers inside of you again, and the tightly wound cord in your core finally snaps, your orgasm ripping through your body.
“Oh my god,” you sob, your body squirming beneath them while they light your body on fire.
“There she is,” Mingi coos, his pace slowing ever so slightly to coax you through your climax. Yunho presses the heel of his hand down firmly on your mound, effectively holding you in place. He lazily swirls the pad of his middle finger over your clit, overstimulating you in a way that you’ve never felt. It should feel like too much, but it’s just enough to draw out your high just the way you need. You let your eyes flutter closed as you feel your body melting into their tender touches.
Your hearing goes fuzzy and you feel like you’re floating in their arms as they slow their motions to a stop, holding you gently. You feel Mingi pull his fingers from your center, peppering your inner thighs with soft kisses. He brings both his hands up to your hips, massaging your skin. You revel in his touch, each stroke of his fingers drawing you back down to earth.
Yunho carefully slips out from behind you, laying you down on the fluffy pillows. You snuggle into the satin pillowcase, letting him and Mingi manipulate your pliant body, feeling fully sated coming down from your high. Mingi gently closes your legs and drapes a sheet over you. Their hands never leave your body as Yunho settles in next to you, snuggling up to you with an arm thrown over your waist.
“Sweetheart, are you with us?” Yunho brushes your stray hairs from your forehead, planting a gentle kiss on your cheek.
“I think so,” you giggle, nuzzling into his touch, “that was incredible.” You slowly open your eyes, your heart skipping a beat seeing Yunho looking back at you. His hair is mussed, his cheeks are flushed, and his eyes are shining just for you.
“You’re so pretty,” you whisper before you can stop yourself,
“Me?” He rubs his thumb across your cheek, “look who’s talking,” despite redirecting the compliment to you, you notice his ears turning red. He nuzzles his nose into yours, planting a quick kiss to your lips.
“You’re cute when you come,” Mingi interrupts, crawling up the bed to lay next to you. He props himself up on his elbow, resting his other hand on your belly and rubbing soft circles into your skin.
“Mingi,” you laugh, “haven’t you teased me enough for one night?” Yunho chuckles from your other side and you nudge your elbow into his ribs.
“Definitely not, but that’s not the point,” he leans over you to kiss your forehead, “I just like complimenting you,” he kisses your cheek, “and I want you to see yourself,” he kisses your other cheek, “how we see you,” he finally kisses your lips, effectively silencing any witty reply you were trying to conjure up. Tasting yourself on his mouth reignites the flame in your core.
“And how do you see me, exactly?” you question him, your voice coming out much hoarser than you meant it to.
Instead of responding, Mingi thinks for a brief moment before his eyes light up, and he jumps up out of bed. You shoot a questioning look in Yunho's direction, but he just shrugs, equally as confused as you are. Mingi walks to the end of the bed, his sweatpants hanging low on his hips. You catch a glimpse of the outline of his half-hard cock when he turns back to face you, making your mouth water.
“Come here,” he holds his hand out to you, waiting expectantly.
You couldn’t say no to him if you tried, so you wrap your sheet around your body from the chest down and scoot down to the end of the bed, reaching out to meet his outstretched hand. He grabs your hand and swiftly pulls you up from the mattress, helping to steady you on your feet.
“Look,” he says, nodding toward the massive mirror hanging above the vanity.
“Oh, Mingi, don’t,” your cheeks warm immediately, and you absentmindedly bring a hand to cover your eyes. Your mind goes back to him watching you glare at yourself in that same mirror earlier in your evening. You felt so embarrassed in the moment, wishing he hadn’t caught you displaying your insecurity so openly. You’d been avoiding the mirror since then, trying not to think too hard about what you look like for your own peace of mind.
“Baby please, just look,” Mingi gently takes your hand in his, bringing it down from your face, “let us show you,” he kisses your knuckles when you look at him, his warm brown eyes full of admiration.
You take a deep breath before turning to face the mirror, almost gasping when you see yourself. The white sheet draped over your body falls gracefully, the soft fabric hugging your curves. The way it hangs on your body accentuates your full figure, outlining your plump breasts, your rounded hips, and the natural swell of your thighs. The pristine white sheet makes your skin glow, emphasizing your softness.
Maybe it’s the post-orgasm glow, but for the first time in a long time, you truly think you look beautiful. You feel beautiful. Without looking away from yourself you squeeze Mingi’s hand, and he squeezes yours right back.
Yunho scoots down the bed to sit right behind you, opening his legs and pulling you to stand between them. He runs his wide hands up your waist, eyeing the way his fingers glide over your sheet clad curves. His fingers tighten as his hands settle on the swell of your hips.
“I’ve said it once and I’ll say it a thousand times more,” Mingi leans down, brushing his lips over your ear, “you look like a goddess,” he murmurs. His hot breath raises goosebumps on your skin, and you’re suddenly hyper aware of the way Yunho’s hands fit perfectly around you.
“I wouldn’t say that,” you sigh, trying to hide that your body is already so reactive to them again. “I do like how I look right now though,” you tilt your head at your reflection in the mirror, trying to admire yourself.
“I would,” Yunho wraps his arms around your hips pulling you into his lap, “say you look like a goddess, that is,” he sets a steady kiss to the middle of your back, holding you tight.
“You don’t have to say that,” you look between the two of them, “really,”
“Hm, you still don’t believe us, do you, angel?” Mingi tuts, shaking his head slightly as he rubs the back of your hand with his thumb.
”It’s not that I don’t believe you,” you look down at your hand in Mingi’s, watching his thumb glide across your skin. “I just have a lot of trouble seeing myself… positively.” Yunho tightens his arms around you, nuzzling into you.
Mingi nods wordlessly, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. He lets go of your hand to run his own through his hair, assessing what his next move should be. Before you can question him about what’s running through his mind, he drops to his knees in front of you, his hands landing on your sheet wrapped thighs. A jolt of heat strikes in your core as you wonder what’s coming. His eyes meet yours, a searing heat lingering in his gaze.
“Mingi…” you hope that the suspicious tone in your voice will prompt him to share whatever plan he’s conjured up in his head, but he just keeps looking at you with fire in his eyes.
“Min, where are you going with this,” Yunho laughs from behind you. “Already need more?”
“Of course I do, but I can wait,” he smirks, turning his attention back to you. “I could spend all night between your legs baby, but right now, we need to help you see how beautiful you are.”
You can suddenly hear your heartbeat thudding, anticipation bubbling inside you.
“Oh, I’m in,” Yunho says, pulling you closer to him, “what about you, sweetheart?”
You don’t know what they could possibly mean by that, but you can’t seem to find it in yourself to care.
“I’m too horny and malleable to protest, especially with Mingi looking at me like that” you giggle, leaning back into Yunho, “do what you must.” You sigh into his touch, reaching back to pull him closer to you as he nudges at your neck with his nose.
“Atta girl,” Mingi beams, trying to commit your blushing, fucked out smile to memory.
“If there's anything we do that you’re not comfortable with,” Yunho shifts to softly kiss the curve of your shoulder, “just say the word.”
Mingi nods in agreement, “okay?”
”Okay,” you reply in confirmation, giving a small nod. Heat creeps up your cheeks as you wonder where your night is about to go. “I’m a little nervous,” you admit.
“We’ll take good care of you, sweetheart,” Yunho unwraps his arms from around you to massage your lower back, the tension immediately falling away.
“Really good care of you,” Mingi kneads the soft skin of your thighs through your sheet. You feel so safe with their hands on you.
Yunho’s hands travel up to where your sheet is tucked under your arm, tugging on it gently. You lift your arm slightly to help loosen its wrapping around you, and with Yunho’s help, it starts to fall. Cascading down your form, it pools around your hips into Yunho’s lap, your breasts fully on display again.
“God, baby,” Mingi groans, “you are unreal,” he can’t stop himself from reaching up to palm both of your breasts in his hands, coasting his thumbs over your pebbling nipples. You gasp at the sudden contact, reveling in the feeling of his hands on your bare skin again.
Yunho’s fingers ghost up your back, each fingertip blazing a trail of goosebumps up your spine until he reaches the nape of your neck. He gently wraps his fingers around your throat, running two fingers up your exposed neck and resting them on the underside of your chin.
“Look,” Yunho nudges at your chin, and you steady your breath before allowing him to lift your gaze to the mirror. You watch him brush your hair back before softly brushing his lips over your neck.
Mingi’s broad shoulders flex with each movement of his hands on your breasts, each caress more sensual and purposeful than the last. Yunho’s mouth molds perfectly to your neck, his hand snaking up into your hair to keep you steady.
With two of the most beautiful men you’ve ever laid eyes on worshiping you like you built the earth they walk on, you feel powerful. You look powerful. You dared to think you even looked… sexy. With Mingi on his knees in front of you and Yunho mapping your neck with his tongue for the umpteenth time this evening, you realize how wrapped around your finger they are.
Before you could fully feel the emotion of your revelation, Mingi’s hands leave your chest as he rises in front of you. “Come here, baby,” he sits next to you, opening his legs to make space for you. You slide out of Yunho’s lap, and Mingi guides your body to rest against his chest, turning you to face Yunho. You realize they’ve put you in the same position as earlier, only now it’s Yunho’s mercy you’re left at instead of Mingi’s. Your breathing quickens at the way Yunho looks at you with hunger in his dark eyes.
“Can I take this off of you?” Yunho asks, tugging at the sheet still wrapped around your waist. Mingi sweeps your hair from your shoulders, pulling you closer to him as he trails featherlight kisses up your neck. You nod to Yunho, leaning into Mingi’s mouth.
Yunho gently unwraps the sheet from around you, letting it fall to either side of your hips, putting you on full display for them again. He taps on your leg, signaling for you to lift it up onto the mattress. You bend your knee, letting your leg fall down to present yourself to him. You push your hips toward him, resting your other foot on the floor. A groan rumbles in Yunho’s throat, your cunt glistening and wanting under the dim lighting of your hotel room.
“So perfect,” he admires your heat, letting his hands rest on your thighs to open you up even more for him. “Can I touch you, sweetheart?”
“Please, Yun,” you lean further back into Mingi’s chest, his lips traveling up to the sensitive spot right below your ear, pulling a whine from your throat.
Yunho holds you open with one hand while the other runs up your thigh, closer and closer to where you need him. He runs his slender fingers through your cunt, gathering your arousal before slowly pushing a finger inside you. Your eyes flutter closed at the sensation, and he immediately finds that tender spot inside of you. “Need more, beautiful?” He withdraws slightly waiting for your response, and you nod ardently, needing anything and everything he’s willing to give you.
He adds a second finger, stretching you deliciously, pushing both fingers as deep inside as he can go. He hits that spot inside you again, smirking as you arch your back against his best friend’s chest.
“Feeling good, baby?” Mingi murmurs into your ear, earning a whimper and a nod in response. “Good girl,” the deep growl in his voice sucks the air from your lungs.
Yunho’s thumb finds your clit, circling it perfectly in sync with his fingers thrusting in and out of you. You feel him scissoring his fingers inside of you, getting you ready to take him. His fingers feel incredible, but you need more.
”Yunho, baby,” you whine, grinding down on his hand.
“Yes, beautiful?” He cocks his head at you, a teasing lilt to his voice. He knows what you’re going to say, but he wants to hear it.
“I need you,” you know he’s gonna make you beg, you can see it in his eyes, and feel it in the way he slows his pace a bit.
“Need me?” He thrusts his fingers deeper inside of you, his free hand tightening its grip on your leg.
“Mmh, I need you inside of me Yun,” you reach behind you, wrapping your fingers around the back of Mingi’s neck to keep his mouth where it is on your neck.
“Uh-uh,” he scolds you, pulling his fingers from you, lazily running his fingers through your heat. Your cheeks heat with frustration, and you feel Mingi chuckle against your skin at your cute, needy little whines. “Ask nicely, sweetheart,” Yunho positions your clit between his knuckles, squeezing the swollen bud gently.
”Oh my god, Yunho please,”
“Please what? Use your words,” he teases your entrance with the tips of his fingers.
Another desperate whine falls from your mouth. “F-fuck me, please, I need your cock Yunnie please, god,” you wiggle your hips beneath his strong grip, trying to catch any bit of friction.
“Good girl,” he shoves his fingers deep inside you again, and you nearly scream before he swallows your voice, pressing a bruising kiss to your lips. “That wasn’t so hard, was it, doll?” He teases, nibbling on your bottom lip.
You kiss him back hard, grabbing for the waistband of his boxers blindly, swiping your fingers down his stomach before reaching the elastic.
“Eager, are we?” Yunho breaks the kiss, hooking his hands under your knees to pull you closer to him, making sure to move you onto the bed more so you’re not so close to the edge. Even when he’s teasing you, he’s being so thoughtful and careful with you. He stands up briefly, and you can’t do anything but watch him silently as he slowly pulls his boxers down, his cock springing free.
Your mouth goes dry at the sight of him, long and velvety, and you feel your cunt clench around nothing. He pumps himself once, twice, as he kneels on the mattress between your legs.
“Still feeling good?” Yunho spreads your thighs even wider, nodding to Mingi behind you, who reaches over you to hook a hand under your knee to hold you open. He’s stopped kissing you, seemingly settling in for the show.
“So good,” you breathe, “please Yunho,”
“Mhm,” he nods, giving you a quick kiss, running his cock through your arousal. You gasp as he bumps your clit, pushing your hips toward him. He nudges his tip at your entrance, resting his forehead against yours. He pushes in slightly, easing into you little by little, the stretch making you gasp. He pauses for a moment, waiting for a signal to keep going. A shuddering breath leaves your lips as you nod, and he pushes deeper.
“I can take all of it, please,” you whine, and with a roll of his hips, he fills you all the way up, finally fully seated inside of you. You both sigh, soaking up the feeling.
“Fuck,” he hisses, “you feel incredible y/n, god,” he kisses your forehead, giving you a moment to adjust. He is so deep inside of you, you’ve never felt so full.
“Yuyu,” you sigh,
”Hm?”
“Move.”
He chuckles, pulling out almost all the way before slamming back into you. You cry out, arching your back against Mingi, pleasure shooting to your center. Yunho sets a slow and steady pace, fucking into you deeply with each stroke.
“Do you realize how fucking good you look right now?” Mingi’s fingers tangle in your hair, gripping tightly, turning your head towards the mirror. “Look at how well you’re taking him baby,” he coos.
“So good for me,” Yunho has your legs spread at an angle so that you can see every bit of what’s happening. His wide hands splayed across your thighs, his cock disappearing inside of you, plunging in and out, shining with your arousal. Mingi’s cock presses into your back, making your mouth water.
“Oh my,” you stammer, “Mingi, let me touch you, please,”
He slips out from behind you immediately, laying you down on the mattress. Yunho slows his thrusts to let you adjust, while Mingi stands next to you at the foot of the bed, his sweatpants tented over his hard length. You roll onto your side, with Yunho still inside of you, propping yourself up on one arm and reaching your other to slip your fingers under the waistband of Mingi’s sweatpants. He helps you push them down, along with his boxers, hissing as the cool air hits his cock.
You reach for him, beckoning him to come closer. You wrap your fingers around him, his head falling back as you pump him slowly. A quick glance in the mirror has your head spinning, in awe of how both of these men are crumbling for you. You wiggle your hips, trying to scoot closer to Yunho. He shifts deeper between your legs, picking up the pace slightly, and the new angle has his cock hitting that tender spot inside of you. You whimper, squeezing Mingi’s length in your hand, stroking him faster. Mingi looks down at you, his mouth hanging open, his brow furrowing, watching you work him. Looking up at him through your lashes, you lick your lips before opening your mouth for him, inviting him in. He moans, leaning forward so his tip brushes your lips.
“Baby,” Mingi murmurs, his chest heaving as you flick your tongue over the sensitive underside of his tip. You wrap your lips around him, sucking him further into your mouth with each bob of your head. A sharp thrust of Yunho’s hips has you moaning around Mingi’s cock, the vibrations almost too much for him to handle. You keep pushing forward until Mingi is bumping the back of your throat, and you relax around him, giving him a quick nod to push further inside. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, and you wonder if you look as messy as you feel.
“You look so pretty with his cock down your throat, sweetheart,” Yunho matches his pace to how Mingi is fucking your mouth, rolling their hips in unison, stuffing you full. You feel the pad of Yunho’s thumb grazing over your clit, the gentle pressure making you tighten around him. “If you keep squeezing me like that, I’m not gonna last very long,” he adds more pressure on your clit, circling it in time with his thrusts. You feel the throbbing in your core intensifying with Yunho’s ministrations.
You moan around Mingi again, making him slow his pace. He buries himself down your throat, and you keep him there as long as you can, tapping his thigh when your vision starts to blur. He pulls back from your mouth, your throat burning as you try to catch your breath. You replace your mouth with your hand, spitting onto his cock, rolling your wrist as you stroke him.
”You’re doing so well,” Mingi coos, bending over you briefly to kiss your forehead, brushing your sweaty stray hairs out of your face, “so, so well.” Mingi grabs a pillow and props it under your head, laying you back down to relax into the feeling of Yunho inside of you. Yunho picks up the pace now that he has more of your attention, snapping his hips relentlessly, rubbing your clit just right.
“Yunho, f-fuck,” you whine, squeezing around him once again, the weight of your arousal settling in your belly. Your hand around Mingi’s cock falters, your strokes becoming erratic as you get closer to your climax.
“What did I say, sweetheart?” He emphasizes his words with a firm swirl of his thumb around your sensitive bud. “If you keep doing that, I’m gonna fucking come,”
“I am too, shit,” you cry, tears running down your temples into the pillowcase.
“Are you on the pill?” Yunho slows down just enough to make you whimper,
“Mhm,” you nod, hoping he’s asking you for the same reason you’re thinking,
“I need to come inside of you, beautiful,” he groans as you tighten around him again at his words, “fuck, please y/n,” he pumps into you deep, your back arching into the bed.
“Yeah, ngh, please, come inside of me Yun,” you whine.
Mingi pulls your hand from him, kneeling beside you to talk you through it. “You close, baby?” He licks up your chest, kissing every inch of exposed skin he can reach. You nod fervently, reaching for Yunho’s free hand, and grabbing Mingi’s shoulder with your other. “You’re taking him so well,” Mingi praises you, “I knew when we saw you that you’d be so good for us, our good girl.”
You flutter around Yunho’s cock, and he smirks down at you, his cheeks flushed and hair sticking to his forehead, “you really love being talked to like that, don’t you?” His pace falters slightly, and you know you’re both almost there. “I’m gonna fuck you so full, then Mingi’s gonna do the same, until you’re dripping with both of us, okay?” Jesus fucking Christ.
“Please, yes please, I need it,” the flame in your core is growing with each thrust of Yunho’s hips.
“So pretty when you beg,” Mingi whispers into your neck,
“Come around my cock, beautiful, I wanna feel you,”
Mingi kisses your temple while you fall apart for the second time tonight, Yunho’s name falling from your lips as your body trembles between your lovers. Yunho’s hips start to stutter, his thrusts getting more and more irregular.
”Yunho,” you whine, your climax still rippling through your body, “fill me up baby, please, come,” you squeeze his hand and he laces his fingers between yours.
“Oh, f-fuck,” he pushes in deep, his hips stilling as he spills inside of you. He exhales deeply before leaning over you to kiss you, slowly fucking his release deeper and deeper into you as you thread your fingers into his hair. “You are incredible,” he murmurs against your lips.
“So are you,” you giggle, trying to catch your breath. Mingi rubs a gentle hand down your cheek as you and Yunho remain fused, foreheads pressed together. The three of you sit in comfortable silence for a few moments, both of them peppering you with kisses, before Mingi breaks it.
“I know I said this already,” he starts, “but you are so cute when you come.” You roll your eyes at him and Yunho laughs at your bickering.
Yunho slowly pulls out of you, massaging your hips and easing your legs closed. “He’s right,” he smiles at you, kissing your nose. You stick your tongue out at him, earning a wink in return as he flops onto his back.
“Let’s see how you look when you come,” you taunt, turning your attention to Mingi. You flip over onto your stomach, arching your back and pushing up onto your knees to display your ass up in the air, like you’re a cat stretching after a nap. You turn to face Mingi, still on his knees at the foot of the bed. You point to the mirror behind him, “put on a good show for me, would you?”
“Ooh Min, someone’s had enough of your teasing for one night,” Yunho laughs. He rolls onto his side next to you, whispering into your ear, “I like you when you’re feisty.”
Mingi just looks at you, his mouth hanging open slightly as amusement plays across his gaze.
“Cat got your tongue, baby?” You know you’re instigating, and he’s surely going to make you pay for it… but part of you is hoping for that. “Hurry, before Yunnie’s cum starts to drip out of me,” you pout, faking disappointment in your voice.
“Oh, you are such a brat,” Mingi beams at you, loving what your newfound confidence is bringing out of you. He stands, climbing up onto the bed behind you, running his hands over your ass. You glance at the mirror, admiring the soft swell of your ass, Mingi’s hands gripping your soft skin. “Look at you, running your mouth asking to get fucked when you’re already full of cum,” he smacks your ass, the crack ringing through the quiet room. You moan at the sensation, the throbbing in your cunt coming back full force. “You like that?” He soothes the angry red spot with his fingers, massaging your stinging skin.
“Yeah, I do,” you breathe, “do it again,” you wiggle your hips, pushing back toward him. A drop of cum slips from your entrance, landing on the bed beneath you. Mingi groans at the sight, his cock jumping in response. He spanks you again, harder than the last, and you jerk forward, whimpering into the bedding.
“Dirty girl,” the low growl in his voice makes you shiver. You watch Mingi in the mirror as he strokes himself, lining up with your entrance. “Ready, gorgeous?”
“Mm, yes please,” you push back into him and he reciprocates, slipping inside of you. The combination of yours and Yunho’s arousal has Mingi sliding all the way in with ease, both of you shuddering when he bottoms out.
“I’d love to take this slow, baby, but I need you,”
“Please don’t,” you pull forward off of him slightly before pushing back again. “Fuck me like you mean it.” Mingi laughs, rolling his hips, pumping in and out faster and faster until the bed is rocking with your bodies.
“You feel so fucking good, y/n.” He has a vice grip on your hips, pulling you back into him to meet each thrust. “You look so good taking me like this,”
“So perfect,” Yunho chimes in from next to you. You turn your head to face him, and he wraps a hand around the nape of your neck, his lips molding with yours. You moan into his mouth as Mingi fucks into you, harder, faster.
“Want me to fill you up, baby? Have any room for more?”
“Please, yes,” you murmur against Yunho’s lips, fucking back into Mingi. Each bump of his cock inside of you has you inching closer and closer to your third orgasm of the night, your knuckles turning white from gripping the sheets. Yunho must sense it, moving his hand to slide under you, down your belly and between your legs. The second he makes contact with your clit, you feel pleasure spreading through you, getting more intense as they work you.
“I can feel you,” Mingi leans over you to bite down on your shoulder, “you gonna come with me, angel?”
“Yeah, ngh,” you turn back to face the mirror, remembering the taunting that got you in this position in the first place. Mingi is glowing, every muscle in his body flexing under his sweat-slicked skin as he pounds into you. His eyes meet yours in the mirror, and he draws his bottom lip between his teeth, smirking at you, before bringing his palm down hard on your ass again.
You cry out, your whole body shaking as your orgasm washes over you, rocking you in waves. You use all your remaining strength to keep your ass in the air as Mingi follows right behind you, letting out an animalistic growl as he fills you. You feel him twitch inside of you, finally stilling after he’s pumped every last drop into you. His chest heaves, easing his grip on your hips to lean over your spent form, trailing kisses up and down your spine.
“You’re cute when you come too,” you sigh, suddenly feeling sleepy.
“I’m glad you think so,” Mingi laughs breathlessly, easing out of you, groaning at the mess that drips from your center.
“Sorry for the mess, sweetheart,” Yunho reaches around you, pulling you down to the mattress, flush against his body. “Why don’t we get you cleaned up before you fall asleep?”
You agree, already feeling yourself drift off. They help you to the bathroom, Yunho helping you work all the tangles out of your hair as Mingi gets the shower going. The three of you lazily wash each other, teasing as you do. With Yunho’s lips on your neck and Mingi’s fingers between your legs, both your hands on their cocks, the three of you come again together. You wash all over again, finally agreeing to get out when the water runs cold. They help you dry off, and Yunho grabs you a pajama set from the dresser, letting you get dressed before leading you to the bathroom mirror. He brushes your hair for you while you do your skincare.
Your heart aches in your chest thinking about your time with them coming to an end. Yunho looks so content, standing in your bathroom with a towel around his hips helping you get ready for bed. Mingi returns from remaking the bed, wearing just his sweatpants and his glasses, sipping his long abandoned soju. You’d been moving around your room in a comfortable silence since getting out of the shower, and your eyes burn at the thought of them leaving you soon.
“Y/n, you okay?” Yunho sets your brush down on the counter next to your skincare products. He gently grabs your shoulders, turning you around to face the both of them.
A silent tear falls down your cheek. “I don’t want you to go,” you sniffle, suddenly feeling so small.
“Hey, woah,” Mingi is at your side, “we are not going anywhere, y/n,” he takes your hand in his.
“You have a show tomorrow, you guys need to rest,”
“And we can rest here, with you,” Yunho assures you. “We already know that bed is big enough for the three of us,” you laugh at his effort to ease your nerves.
“You really want to spend the night with me?”
“Of course, baby,” Mingi says, “we would never leave you after all of that. Plus Yunho is a clingy baby the night before a show and I’m not gonna be his little spoon all night.”
“He’s right,” Yunho shrugs, “I do need a little spoon. You interested?”
A short while later and the three of you are dressed and in bed, and you’re wedged in between your two lovers. Your backside is pressed against Yunho, whose arm is wrapped around your waist, holding you close. He fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow, now snuggled up to you, lightly snoring in your ear. You lay nose-to-nose with Mingi, fiddling with each others’ fingers.
“Not to keep repeating myself, but I am really glad that we met you tonight, y/n.” In the darkness you can feel him looking at you. “I think I can speak for both of us when I say we really like you.”
“I like you both too,” you whisper. “A lot.”
Mingi kisses your nose, then your lips, resting his forehead against yours. “Were you scared we were gonna leave you earlier?” You can hear the hesitation in his voice.
“Yes,” you reply honestly.
“Why?” Silence hangs in the air for a moment.
“It’s not because of you. Or how you both had been treating me all night, you’ve been so good to me, it’s just—“ You hesitate, trying to find the right words. “Typially when guys want me… that way… they never want to stick around afterwards.”
“I don’t know how anyone could ever walk away from you like that,” he squeezes your hand in his. “And I could never in a million years regret you. Maybe Yunho and I are just suckers for aftercare, you’ll actually never get rid of us,” he chuckles quietly.
“Or maybe you’re just obsessed with me,” you tease him.
“That, too.” He gives you a soft, quick kiss. “We should sleep,” he whispers.
”Fine,” you sigh,
”We’ll both still be here in the morning,” he assures you.
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
You fall asleep tangled between them, your heart feeling so full.
The next morning Mingi orders the three of you room service, charging the order to their room. Yunho’s clinginess seems to have carried over to the morning, as he’s made you sit between his legs while the three of you eat in bed together. You all run through your plans for the day, the boys talking about what time they need to be at the venue to run through their private soundcheck, then getting hair and makeup done for the VIP soundcheck. You tell them all about the friends you’re meeting up with, and they joke about setting one of them up with Yeosang.
Saying goodbye felt impossible, none of you wanting to let go. Both boys put their numbers in your phone, Mingi immediately starting a group chat for the three of you. They promised they’d see you again, and you hope they mean sooner rather than later. They sandwich you between them, hugging you tight.
“You guys need to get ready to head to the venue,” you murmur between them, not wanting to make them late.
“Fine,” Mingi says, kissing the top of your head, rummaging through his sweatpants pocket for their room key. “See you at the show,” he winks.
Your heart flutters thinking about seeing them on stage after the night you’d just spent together. “It’s too early for you to be making me blush, Song Mingi,”
“Sorry!” He kisses you quickly before slipping out the door, leaving you and Yunho alone.
“Sorry I fell asleep so early last night,” he holds you tenderly, running a wide hand up and down your back.
“Don’t apologize, your snoring was kind of soothing,” you poke his stomach, “plus, I liked being your little spoon. We’ll have to do that again sometime.”
“I’d love to,” he looks at you with such a wholesome admiration in his eyes. “I’m glad we met, y/n.”
“Me too, Yunho.” He dips down to kiss you, capturing your lips with his.
“I’ll see you soon, sweetheart,”
”Promise?”
”Promise.” He kisses you once more before slipping out of your room.
You stare at the closed door for a few moments until you hear the distant ding of the elevator. You miss them so much already. You wonder how you’re gonna keep it together in front of your friends all day, laughing as you imagine each of their reactions to the events of last night.
Turning to walk back toward your bed, you start running through all the things you need to do in the next hour to get ready to leave. Shower, hair, makeup— you stop dead in your tracks as your eyes land on your vanity. Right next to your makeup bag is Yunho’s hat. Your heart races as you see the corner of a piece of paper sticking out from under it. Moving the hat over, you laugh at his message, written in his scrawling script on hotel stationary.
(n.) a place where you feel safe and at home, where you are your most authentic self; a place from which your strength is drawn.
everyone has needs. and everyone deserves to have those needs fulfilled. alphas have ruts. omegas have heats. do they not deserve partners? should they suffer in pain through their cycles because of biology? Alpha and Omega Services were created for this very reason, to help those who need it. you signed up to be a Service Omega months ago, and you’re happy with this life, helping your clients get through their ruts to the best of your capability.
but something is missing.
when a team of professional volleyball players request a Service Omega to help them through game season, you agree to the job, hoping the change in pace might help you break this strange emptiness. but the feeling only deepens, grows, along with a whole bunch of other emotions you are not ready to handle.
content warnings: omega!reader, fem!reader, this is set entirely in omegaverse so read at your own risk! exploration of secondary gender and pack dynamics, ruts, heats, knots and scenting. angst, fluff and smut. insecurity, the feeling of being lonely, abandoned, hurt, being ‘othered’. jealousy, some hostility. unprotected sex, nsfw, mentions of breeding, mating, knotting, omega subspace, multiple orgasms. there’s love between all subgenders. all members of seventeen are featured: alpha - seungcheol, jeonghan, junhui, soonyoung, wonwoo, seokmin, mingyu, hansol. beta - joshua, chan. omega - jihoon, minghao, seungkwan.
𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐗
☆ prologue (wc: 1.4k)
☆ chapter 1 - (wc: 7.2k)
☆ chapter 2 - (wc: 8.9k)
☆ chapter 3 - (wc: 8.3k)
☆ chapter 4 - (wc: 9k)
☆ chapter 5 - (wc: 8.4k)
☆ chapter 6 - (wc: 9k)
☆ chapter 7 - 07/11/25
☆ chapter 8 - 11/11/25
☆ epilogue - 14/11/25
a/n: okay, this has been a long time coming! i’ve been working on this series for a while now, and im very proud of the story I have lined up. ot13 omegaverse is already an interesting concept but my haikyuu loving ass decided to through volleyball in there LMFAO and this might just be my magnum opus ㅠ but full disclaimer there isn’t really that much volleyball in it. ANYWAY I hope everyone likes it. you can add yourself to the taglist here
series warnings: heavy bdsm dynamics, subspace, rules and punishments, kink exploration, eventual romance, heavy/extreme kinks in later chapters. the characters engage in consensual controlling behaviour under the agreement of a 24/7 bdsm dynamic. this story does not represent ateez in any way; i merely use them as muses for my own characters. specific warnings will be in each chapter.
chapter warnings: discussions of bdsm dynamics, allusions to previous unhealthy dominants.
words: 4k.
welcome to in full bloom! this is my new (and first) series that i’ve been working on for a while now. you may remember an old fic of mine, new girl—this is a reworked & expanded version of it! so if you think you’ve read a similar thing before, you probably have, though this is (i hope) much better than the earlier version. your feedback is much appreciated🖤
—
There’s a chill in the air today. Not quite cold enough to be biting, but noticeable; an early sign of autumn, perhaps—it’s why your nose is tinged red and a little stuffy when you finally make it to the bar where you’re supposed to meet your friend.
She’s behind the bar when you walk in, leaning over the counter with her weight rested on her elbows. She looks bored—unsurprising, really, when you’re pretty much the only people here right now.
It’s a slow day, as it always is in the middle of the week, but she knows that’s how you like it; the busyness and the happenings of the weekends, even if largely contained to the private rooms, are a little overwhelming, particularly for someone who hasn’t technically done anything more than observe since college.
It was Maya, who rounds the bar when she spots you with a relieved expression, who first introduced you to the world of kink—you’d heard about it of course, like any other person your age, but it wasn’t until a drunken dorm party and a slurred answer in a game of truth or dare, that you took any interest in it.
“Never have I ever tied someone up.”
A few years later you hear the question in your head as clearly as if the drunken frat boy were right next to you shouting it out still.
The question that started it all—when Maya raised her hand, all confidence, and seeing the way you stared in shock at her admission, asked with her eyes fixed on you if you wanted to give it a try.
You never got much further than that, never dared to explore anything more than leashes and riding crops and yes ma’ams, but it laid the groundwork.
Is it groundwork, though, if nothing has actually come from it yet?
Maya says no. Perhaps that’s why she’s been so eager to set you up with one of her regulars—or maybe it’s because, even from a distance, she can tell you’re in desperate need of it.
You won’t deny it—you’re in a rut, literally and figuratively; your job is boring, your love life is so depressing that you’ve given up on romance all together, and the whole world just seems…duller than usual. Or maybe you’re duller than usual.
Either way—life is stagnating. You’re stagnating. And she knows better than anyone exactly what you need to bring you back to life.
You need release, she says. You need care and guidance and a chance to surrender it all, even if only for a moment. And if not that, then you at least need fun.
She must be at least partially right, you admit; you must want this on some level, or you’d have told her to knock it off already.
It’s entertaining, at the very least, to hear about all the people who have an interest in you, even if you always end up finding a reason to shoot them down.
And if you don’t, she usually will.
She wouldn’t just hand you off to anyone, after all; when it comes to her best friend, particularly given it was her who introduced you to this lifestyle in the first place, her standards are even higher than yours. She’d take you back under her wing and give you that release herself if she wasn’t in a relationship with someone else now.
Today, though, she seems optimistic. Perhaps she’s found someone good.
“You look happy,” you say, pulling away from her slightly crushing hug. “Got something good?”
“Like you won’t believe,” she smiles. “Let’s go.”
You let her drag you to your usual booth, tucked in next to the bar where it’s a little more private. You slide in next to her as always and watch silently as she pulls out her phone; she puts it on the table, face down, and turns to you with what you can tell is a barely restrained grin.
“I have someone,” she says. “Like, someone legit.”
Okay. That’s promising. She doesn’t use the word legit lightly. “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah,” she says. “Not too much older than you and really, really hot.” She pauses for a moment, hesitant and you bite back a smile—here it comes. The great and terrible but.
He’s perfect for you, but he’s 47. You’ll love her, but she smokes seven packs a day and coughs like she’s swallowed a blood clot.
“Come on,” you say. “Out with it. What’s the catch?”
“There’s no catch,” she says quickly. “It’s just…”
“Just?”
“Well, uh. There’s eight of them.”
“Eight?” You don't realise you’re shouting until Maya clamps a hand hurriedly over your mouth, hissing at you to be quiet. You pull it off with a mumbled apology and she rolls her eyes and slaps you lightly on the arm.
”Keep calm, alright?” She says. “I know eight is… a lot, sure, but I know these guys. They know what they’re doing. I’ve played with them before, actually, a couple times.”
Well, that has your attention. You raise an eyebrow, intrigued; Maya is a switch, technically, but she far, far prefers being in control—which means either they’re switches too, in which case you, being submissive to the core and not a fan of sharing your dominants, might not be a good fit, or…
“Played with them as in…” You trail off, but she knows what you’re getting at.
“I was their sub,” she says. “Just for a couple of scenes, but yeah.”
Oh. Wow. You’ve never actually seen Maya submitting to someone, even when you tagged along nervously with her to the actual, proper BDSM club she frequents, but you know her well enough to know that it takes a particular kind of person—and a particular kind of skill—to get her to submit. To make her even want to submit in the first place.
Intrigued would be an understatement.
“Okay,” you say. You can’t quite believe you’re even entertaining this, the idea of submitting to eight people at once, but the words are leaving your mouth before you can stop them. “Tell me about them.”
You’re at the bar at 6.30 sharp the next day; this time, you’re clad in a blue dress that falls just below your mid-thigh; modest but enticing. Just like any other first date you’ve been on, you tell yourself—and it is just another first date.
Though admittedly most of your first dates didn’t involve eight men and a long, long list of kinks.
The list is in your hands, printed for you by Maya at their request. You were told to take your time going over it, but the sight of it when she pushed it into your hands this morning made you nauseous so you decided to put it out of your mind until you calmed down. Luckily, well, by design actually, you’re here early—they’re not supposed to arrive for another hour, which gives you time to sit down in your usual spot and mull it over. Maya is opposite you this time, sifting through the week’s accounts and helping you with anything you don’t understand, but she’d pressed the importance of doing this alone.
After all, you’re the one they’d be doing these… things to.
It starts fairly gently, by design you presume; you carefully fill in the ‘yes’ boxes next to praise, verbal commands and spanking — hand.
“Maya,” you say. “What’s breath play?”
“Choking, usually,” she says. She looks up briefly from her work like she’s trying to gauge your reaction. “Anything that restricts your breathing.”
Oh. You’ve been choked before, of course, but the term they’ve chosen makes you think this could be a lot deeper than that. A lot more intense. You fill in the box that says ‘interested.’
The next page, you find when you reach the bottom of the first and flip it over, is titled impact play. You’ve already checked ‘yes’ for hand spanking, so it starts with a few different implements and positions—but what really grabs your attention is that beneath the title, in a small subtitle, are the words impact play — ass.
The implication is clear and it makes your stomach twist with a feeling you can’t quite place. Where else, exactly, are they planning to hit you?
You’ll find out in a moment, you suppose.
In the first subsection you mark ‘yes’ to belts, paddles, rulers, hairbrushes, wooden spoons and riding crops. Floggers and canes go in the ‘interested’ section—you certainly want to try, but the words and the images they conjure up are a little too intimidating to straight up say yes to. Only whips go in the limit — soft section.
Maya explains the positions listed, and though some of them sound awkward and a little painful to hold, the thought of it is strangely thrilling. Maybe they’d tie you in place; maybe hold you down, even. Or maybe they’d leave it all up to you, letting the punishment continue for as long as you fail to stay still. You mark ‘yes’ to each one.
The next subsection is called impact play — pussy.
Well, that answers that question. You say yes to hands, rulers and wooden spoons. The rest go in ‘maybe’, and the whip goes in limit — hard. You don’t think you’d enjoy that.
Most of the items in the bondage, sex toys and roleplay sections go in ‘yes’ and by the time you reach the end, having filled out the very appropriately titled extreme kinks section, you feel about ready to keel over. Maya looks like she’s trying not to laugh.
“You know they don’t actually want to cut you,” she says gently. “They explained it to me before too. They just want to cover all bases so you know what to expect.”
“Okay,” you nod. “That’s…better. Most of it seems fun, though, I just…”
“Have limits,” she says, finishing the sentence where you’d trailed off, unable to find the right words. You nod and she smiles, reaching to squeeze your hand. “Limits are important. I’m certain they’ll always respect them but if they don’t, you haul ass out of there, alright?”
“Yeah,” you agree. “Of course. I’ll be fine.”
“You always are. Ah!” Her face lights up in recognition and you turn around, watching silently as she strides towards eight men standing by the bar. That must be them. Your stomach twists.
They smile politely at her as she approaches, greeting her with friendly embraces but their gazes find you quickly and stay fixed on you like they’re stuck.
You’ve never felt so small in your life.
The sound of Maya calling your name pulls you from your thoughts; you look up to meet her gaze and she beckons you over with a reassuring smile. “C’mon, babe,” she says. “Don’t be scared.”
There’s a teasing lilt in her voice and you roll your eyes before you can stop yourself; the men next to her smile, and a few of them laugh softly. It sets you a little more at ease; at least enough for you to gather the courage to stand up and shuffle nervously towards them.
Maya showed you their faces yesterday—they’re idols, apparently, and almost stupidly handsome—and helped you learn each of their names, but still you’re not sure where to look; who to look at—even under the low lighting of the bar they’re far more striking in person; they’re taller and larger than you, with a presence, an energy that’s even more intimidating. You’ve never wanted to run—whether away from them or directly into their arms and control, you’re not sure—more in your life.
“Hello.” None of the confidence you’ve trained yourself to project on usual first dates is present in your quiet, shaking voice, but if they notice, they don’t mention it as they bid their hellos.
“Well.” One of the men, Hongjoong, claps his hands cheerfully, jovially—like this is a business meeting or a conversation between friends instead of…well. This. “Let’s not stand around out here. Maya, is our usual place free?”
“Reserved it for you,” she says and he nods, pleased. You swear you see her cheeks tint a little, faintly pink. Huh.
He turns his attention back to you, and the warmth and friendliness on his face takes you by surprise. There’s none of the desire or predation you usually see in people’s eyes here; none of the quiet, barely restrained leering you always found yourself shrinking under on the rare occasions you’d allowed Maya to introduce you to other dominants in the past. He—all of them, in fact—just looks…nice. Curious. You like that, you think. It’ll make it easier to survive what’s surely going to be the weirdest first date of your entire life.
“We have a nice little private booth here that we like to use,” he explains to you. “It’s just behind some curtains, so you can leave at any time if you’re uncomfortable, but we find it’s better to talk in private. Is that alright?”
He’s careful, too, yet he doesn’t seem hesitant or unsure even as he awaits your response; confident, but not presumptuous. You like that, too. You smile. “Okay,” you say. “I’ll follow you.”
The booth is oddly calm; thin, almost translucent curtains shield you from the rest of the bar but don’t hide it entirely so you can look through it and just scarcely make out the figures on the other side, shuffling about as usual. Inside, low blue lighting casts the little nook in a dim glow. They let you sit at the end, not wanting you to feel trapped; the gesture is thoughtful, but it does little to mitigate the weight of their gazes on you. Their attention is constricting and suffocating as much as electrifying.
It doesn’t exactly feel wrong, though.
“We’ve already placed our orders, but would you like a drink?”
It’s the first time someone other than Hongjoong has spoken properly; Seonghwa’s voice is deep, velvety; seductive in a way that feels effortless. Much about him in particular, sat next to Hongjoong and twirling a ring absentmindedly around his finger, is seductive, but it’s gentle, too; tender and warm. A balance you haven’t encountered in quite such intensity before, yet somehow makes perfect sense. You nod. “Just water, if that’s okay,” you say. “I don’t really drink much.”
“That’s good,” he smiles. “Water it is.”
The waiter arrives a minute or so later, though the nerves make it feel like a lot longer, and places the drinks carefully down before leaving; Jongho, sat directly opposite you, hands you your water with a smile before passing the other drinks down the table without a word like he already knows exactly what each of them want. They must be close. Or they must do this a lot. You’re not sure how you feel about the latter.
Jongho, who turns back to you with a friendly smile, seems a little more reserved than the others, but there’s a glint in his eyes that hints at something else—at another side of him waiting to be discovered. Already you desperately want to be the one to unwrap it.
“Shall we start, then?” Hongjoong asks. For a man who, despite being the shortest, is also somehow among the most intimidating of the group, his voice is oddly calming; the low, level tone soothes nerves you weren’t even fully aware of. “We heard a little about you from Maya. Do you want to tell us a bit more yourself, or would you rather we go first?”
He has a careful way of speaking, of addressing you that makes you feel oddly safe; speaks to the care and seriousness Maya had assured you they all viewed this arrangement with. You nod. “You can go first, please.”
“Alright,” he says. “I’ll make you a deal, then. I’ll go first, but you have to look at me. No more staring down at the table.”
You flush a little, feeling strangely chastised but still you lift your gaze with as much confidence as you can muster and the pleased smile on his face makes it all feel worth it. “Good,” he nods. “Very good. Did Maya tell you what we do?”
“You’re idols,” you say. “I looked you up, too.”
“Ah?”
“Yeah. You’re good.”
He smiles, seeming genuinely flattered, a little shy even, and it makes you smile too. “So I’m assuming you’re aware of our need for discretion,” he says.
“Of course,” you reply quickly. “I…I prefer discretion too. This stuff is private, for me. Personal.”
“Great, we’re on the same page then.” He leans back a little, curling his hand around his glass. It’s around halfway full with a drink you don’t immediately recognise; whiskey, maybe, if you had to guess. “Tell me, why did you decide to meet us? I’m sure Maya’s tried to set you up with a lot of people, knowing her.”
You pause, a little hesitant. They don’t make any move to rush you. “Well,” you start. “To be honest, it’s mostly that Maya was so eager for it. She usually isn’t this excited, but she thought you’d be good for me—and that I could be, you know, good for you.” The last words make you flush a little, but they look nothing but pleased.
“That’s what she said to us too.” All of their voices are nice, but something about Yunho’s is especially pleasing; calming. There’s a small, knowing smile on his lips as he continues. “She told us all about how good you’d be.”
“Oh.” You can’t think of another response, especially not with all your blood rushing to your head at a million miles an hour. They don’t seem to mind, though.
“Mhm,” Hongjoong hums. “As for us, we usually find our partners through matching sites,” he says. “Then we meet them here for the first time. But we’ve not had the best luck recently, so we thought we’d try it the old fashioned way, here.”
“The old fashioned way?”
“In person,” he clarifies. “Blind dates, sort of. We spoke to Maya about it and she told us what a natural submissive you are, so of course we wanted to meet you for ourselves.”
Your face warms and you feel yourself shrinking in embarrassment a little, not just at his words but at the idea of Maya offering you up to these men so wantonly—and at the way your stomach twists at the thought with a feeling you wouldn’t dare to name.
“And, um…” You start to trail off, already second guessing yourself but they give you an encouraging smile, and you let yourself relax a little. You’re fine. “What do you think so far? About me?”
There's a beat of silence that seems to drag on before Seonghwa speaks. His words are slow; careful. Deliberate. “Well, we heard about you and saw some pictures, and I can tell you we all liked what we saw. We wouldn’t be here otherwise. And I can tell you that personally, I think you’re even better in person.”
When you look up, smiling shyly, you find all their gazes fixed firmly on you and for the first time since you met them, you see an unmistakable desire in their eyes; a lust that burns hot against your skin. But it doesn’t make you feel ashamed or objectified as it had with others in the past, for some reason—perhaps because these men have been so respectful so far, or perhaps because of how much you want them too.
What you do know now, though, is that you absolutely, unequivocally need this to happen; need this to go ahead. You want their hands on your body, their marks on your skin, and you want them.
And miraculously, they seem to want you too.
You just…you’re not entirely certain of why.
Obviously you’re compatible, that’s clear—but they’re gorgeous. And famous. And if Maya is to be believed, extremely skilled. You are, comparatively at least, nothing.
“Can I ask you something too?” You say quietly. They hum, affirmative and you swallow your nerves. You’re a big girl, you tell yourself—you can ask a question. “You’re idols. You could have…anyone, really. Why choose me?”
“I wouldn’t say we can have anyone,” Wooyoung responds, chuckling slightly. The others smile a little, seeming amused but you don’t get the sense they’re laughing at you. It feels more fond than mocking, actually. Sweet, even. “Not many people are willing to uproot themselves to submit to eight people at once. Which is understandable of course. And among the ones who are willing, even fewer are suited to our tastes. We can be quite demanding.”
“Demanding?”
“Strict,” San clarifies. “We have high expectations for our submissives. Most can’t or don’t want to meet them. We think you could, with our help.”
You think you could too. The knot in your stomach tightens at the image. “Yeah.”
He hums, nodding a little. “And you’re obviously beautiful, of course, so there’s that too, but it’s your gift for submission that’s particularly difficult to find. That’s what made us so eager.”
“Ah.” There’s something thrilling in the way he talks to you, about you; lapping praise on you in a way that feels so…emotionless. Unaffected. Factual, rather than complimentary.
Like they’ll give you everything you earn and nothing more.
“What’s on your mind?” Hongjoong asks. “You seem a little dazed.”
You huff out an awkward laugh, trying to ease the tension that’s wrapped itself around you like coils of rope. “Yeah,” you breathe. “Just a lot to take in.”
“I understand,” he says. “This would be overwhelming for anyone. You’re doing really well, though.”
“Thank you,” you mumble; everything they say is making you feel smaller and more embarrassed.
It’s not a bad feeling, though. Nice, even. Something about being tiny and helpless and exposed beneath their gazes, beneath their control, feels like everything you could ever want.
The rest of the evening passes comfortably; even with the lingering elephant in the room, you find yourself talking happily, even casually with them. The weight that usually presses on you when you meet a new dominant; the feeling of being intimidated and scrutinised and with everything to prove, isn’t present tonight.
There’s tension, yes, but you feel at ease with them; natural, even. It’s not a feeling you thought could exist in this sort of relationship.
You don’t realise how tired you are nor how heavy your eyes are becoming until a large, uncertain hand closes on top of yours. Mingi’s touch is cautious, tentative; like the simple act of feeling your skin on his is something monumental and significant to him. You like that; the carefulness of it all. The humanness, even. Too often you’ve found dominants unwilling to do anything but, well, dominate. Unwilling to be human, to show a crack in the facade.
Everything about these men is refreshing; novel in the best way. Though you’ve been doing these things for years now, you somehow feel like you’ve discovered an entirely new world. Like you’re just on the cusp of everything.
“Sweetheart.” Mingi’s voice is gentle, a little raspy and there’s a soft smile on his lips. “I think it’s time for bed.”
“Oh.” Suddenly you’re acutely aware of the exhaustion pressing down on your shoulders; the mental and physical toll of today that’s crept up on you like a hanging cloud. “Yeah, you’re right.”
“Can we take you home?” Yunho asks. “We can drive you back to your place.”
You shake your head. “I’m okay, thank you,” you say. “I’m pretty overwhelmed, to be honest.”
“At least let us pay for it, though,” Seonghwa suggests. You concede to that, and they look pleased; even you find yourself a little giddy—the feeling of being taken care of, even in such a small way, is admittedly one you’ve missed.
You sit around for a little longer before Hongjoong speaks, sounding serious. “Unfortunately we have to leave the country soon.” He sounds regretful; so are you, frowning sadly. He notices; his lips quirk with a small smile that almost feels fond. “Just for a few weeks. But that will give you a chance to think everything through by yourself, and we’ll text and call as much as you’d like while we’re gone. Then, when we’re back, we can give this thing a go, if you’re willing.”
“I am,” you say quickly. A few of them laugh again, and Mingi squeezes your hand.
“I meant if you’re willing then,” Hongjoong clarifies. “But I’m glad you’re eager.” You don’t miss the slight teasing in his voice. You wonder if that’s the type of dominant he is, too; the kind that likes to play with his food.
They don’t touch you as they walk you out, careful to keep the distance, though you can tell (you hope, but your intuition hasn’t failed you yet) that they’re holding back. You suppose that’s what being with a celebrity will entail, if this really does go ahead, but it feels a little disappointing all the same.
They do, however, pull you into quick, hidden hugs, concealed by the other members crowding around you like a protective herd, before helping you into the taxi.
They’re still standing on the curb, watching you leave, when the taxi rounds the corner and disappears out of sight.
‼️FOR ANYONE WHO WAS PLANNING TO BUY A LIGHTSTICK AT THE US STOPS FOR DOMINATE‼️
there will be no skz lightsticks sold at the us (maybe other places but everywhere I saw said us stops) concert venues with other merch so if you planned on getting it there to take with you to the concert or just to have pls make sure to get it before your concert date.
there are lots of good "cheaper" (less expensive than other places) options for them on amazon or mercari they also sell them at places like subk or other kpop shops usually priced higher but still good options!
just wanted to let usa stay/people going to usa stops know!
also for anyone who didn't know version 1 does NOT connect with the venues via bluetooth/do not have a little little screen like version 2. but they're still super cute!!
additionally (kinda unrelated but also related) PLEASE try to keep the batteries out of any lightsticks you have if you're not using them!! keeping batteries in lightsticks for longer than needed may cause damage to them!!
series summary: What if Aniteez appeared on Ateez's ship, Twilight, after being sent through a Cromer wormhole? How would the two crews work and live in harmony when worlds collide?
warnings/tags: slice of life pirate au! silly times, this is the closest to a crack fic ive ever written but its also done in earnest lol. this is pure fluff for the most part. babied aniteez, shenanigans, poly ateez!
summary: Seonghwa's mistaken text, meant for his CEO, lands in the inbox of South Korea’s most untouchable woman—the Crown Princess of the Monarchy. Bound by anonymity and something strange lurking between their words, a conversation begins. But with the weight of the crown and the glare of the spotlight from both sides, how long before their worlds collide?
pairing: idol!seonghwa x crown princess!reader
genre: smau, strangers to friends to lovers, angst, fluff, attempted humor, smut in later chapters, fantasy
warnings: adult themes (mdni), talks of mental health (depression, anxiety, adhd), talk and use of substance (alcohol, weed), crass language, king charles slander (lmk if i missed anything)
a/n: now i know that South Korea is not a monarchy, BUT just imagine. i tried to put together a world in which a monarchy like this fits in - modern but tied by traditions and expectations. I did a good deal of research on what it would/may look like in SK with their traditions, but still - there may be glaring inaccuracies. now, if i unknowingly inserted or said something culturally/traditionally offensive or problematic, let me know IMMEDIATELY. thank you and happy reading <3
the han royal (extended) family
the media
ateez official
the inner circle
the idols
a/n: as someone who’s taller/the same height as 5 out of 8 of the members and not too much shorter than the big bitch line, this one is VERY self indulgent
warning(s): swearing, general tall bitch activities (I’ll make one for a short reader one day but I haven’t been shorter than my current height in over a decade, it’s gonna take me a minute)
Me & My bestie have 2 tickets to the July 31 Duluth, GA
show for sale @ face value ($197). We impulsively bought more tickets for the 30th (Tuesday) show and are trying to sell our tickets for the Wednesday show. If anyone would like to buy or even (v SLIGHTY negotiate) please reach out !! Can send proof of purchase and seat location ! we don’t even care abt making profit,, if you wanna see ateez this tour pls reach out 😭.
(so sorry for the smut tags but i had to call all the freak 403s 🫶🏾)
