#00 line fanfiction | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

neopuppy · 2 years

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Saturday Drip (M)

Preview: “Can you believe while we were sitting swamp ass in misery— Jaemin was fucking my favorite cam girl?!” Jeno blurts out before his roommate can recall the actual events that took place.

“We didn’t do anything like that, but..” Jaemin takes in his friends intrigued stares, nervously mumbling. “She’s looking for Alphas..”

Renjun’s brows twist, inching closer with interest. “For what?”

“To film content.”

Pairing: alpha NCT Dream 00line x female omega reader

Word Count: 15k+

Genre: a/b/o AU, broke college boys, pure and utter filth, cnc(don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable.), pwp, dom alphas, one shot(do not ask for a pt2😾)

Smut Warning: rough sex, breeding, knotting, rough oral(m/f), double penetration(both), choking, spit, squirting, praise/degradation, big mean alphas, camera use, manhandling, mind break, wet & messy etc

Playlist: Saturday Drip/NCT Dream, Big Ole Freak/Megan The Stallion, Super Freaky Girl/Nicki Minaj, Hi, I’m A Slut/Lil Mariko, Cyber Sex/Doja Cat, Sexxx Dreams/Lady Gaga

It’s hot, it’s way too hot. Sweats already begun to pool under Jeno’s back, limbs gone heavy stuck to his bed. It’s useless trying to get off when all he can focus on is the lack of cool air blowing out of the vent. Everything feels dry and musty around him making it impossible to even breathe peacefully.

The AC unit just had to break last night, again. Only an hour after he’d just rushed home from his shift at the gym. Opting to skip showering in the locker rooms after clocking out when his phone pinged with a new notification.

‘Riding an inflatable sybian, how long can I last?’

“Fuck.” Jeno mumbles to himself, quickly grabbing his belongings. He’d just rinse off real fast once he gets home. It’s gonna be a long night anyway. Not in the way he’d imagined with his palm wrapped around his cock, edging himself for hours on end in front of a computer screen.

It’s not as if he has a paper due on Monday, prioritizing his favorite Omega fucking a sex machine over his grades without question or worry. He paid for a monthly subscription for good reason. It’s not like it’s his goal in life was to be a nutritionist anyway. Most of his time in class was spent on daydreaming of how he could just fuck his way to success and fortune instead.

Not that this had anything to do with the amount of porn acquiring his desktop, or the hours he wasted away watching obscene videos. If only his essay was about how to properly eat ass.

“Hey.” Jaemin greets him upon entering. Standing in front of the open freezer door with sweat trickling down his bobbing throat.

“Dude what the fuck? It’s disgusting in here.” Jeno can’t stand the heat. Having to psyche himself out to believe he didn’t just stand too close to multiple bodies in a hot subway cart. Ignoring hot breath reaching his neck as he stood taller than those around him making his journey home all the more uncomfortable.

“Yeah,” closing the freezer door, Jaemin lays his torso on the kitchen counter sluggishly. “Pretty sure the air conditioning broke, again. I called up Mark to let him know. He said no one can come fix it until Monday.”

“Last time he said that, no one came for three weeks!” Jeno exclaims, ripping open the fridge for a frozen water bottle to rub on his sweltering skin. “Jaem, I can’t live like this! It’s over 100 degrees outside.”

“I know, trust me. I’ll keep badgering him, alright?” Jaemin sighs. Already drained of energy he needs to get through the rest of the evening.

“I have to get going, you can use my fan for now.” Jaemin offers, using paper towels to dab away sweat before heading out. Knowing he’ll be dripping in it with a heavy bag of camera equipment on his back.

“Where are you going?” Jeno’s already removing his clothes. Jamein mumbling for him to not plaster his wet naked ass to their couch.

“I got a gig finally, I should be back late.” Hauling on his equipment he waves a ‘later’ before stepping out. Head tilting up curiously as he hears shouting.

“Answer me you fucking piece of shit!!”

“Dude what happened to you? Why are you drenched?” Jaemin pauses mid-walk. Adjusting the camera gear weighing on his shoulders as he spots Renjun on the phone outside of his apartment.

“A pipe busted above my room! There’s a huge leak in my closet!” Renjun’s frantic, arm waving around behind him as he explains. “And our fucking AC isn’t working! Again!”

“Oh my God, I’d tell you to crash at mine but ours isn’t working either!” Jaemin sighs, shaking his head. “We need to move out of this shit hole.”

“Tell me about it!” Renjun groans, slamming a thumb down on his phone to hang up. “Haechan’s gonna be so pissed off when he gets home. He’s been working overtime today cause we’re short on rent again.”

“We pay way too much to live in this crap, just because it’s a mile away from SNU.” Jaemin says with a roll of his eyes. “So much for college being the best years of our lives.”

“That’s high school,” Renjun corrects, waving him off. “I have to check on the leak. Catch you later man.”

Nodding to his friend Jaemin continues toward the exit. Passing the broken elevator that Mark claimed would get fixed 5 months ago, never once spotting a maintenance person in sight.

Out of desperation he ended up searching for freelance photographer jobs. Weddings required too much experience, editorials asking for examples of work and complete portfolios.

It felt hopeless until he landed on an ad seeking someone with less experience. Specifically stating they wouldn’t mind an intern level type who is still in the process of learning. Wishing for more ‘gritty’ and ‘real’ photography that can pass off as homemade.

‘Must be comfortable with full nudity and sex acts. You will be shooting and filming content for my xxx website. 21+ with ID proof and examples of your work. Contact me directly via email to set up a time.’

Jaemin decided to neglect mentioning that part to his roommate. It was either this or he’d be short on rent like his next door neighbors’ current struggle. Knowing Jeno he’d hear ‘pornographic content’ and ask to tag along as his assistant for the day. Casually joking about how he could fuck better than the Alphas in video links shared through their group chats.

‘I guess if I’m ever desperate enough for money I’d do it. My dicks big enough.’

Jaemin always thought his friend was too brash for saying such ridiculous things nonchalantly.

He could never have anticipated reaching that level of desperation himself mere hours later.

He’s not sure what to think as he stands in your bedroom. Struggling to process a thought while you continue explaining your field of work, tossing different sets of colorful lingerie onto a king-size bed decorated like something straight out of a home decor magazine.

“We don’t have to take the photos in my room, I’m open to whatever you’re thinking.”

“Oh, yeah yeah..” he nods, taking in the lacey sheer frilly garments splayed out before him. Glancing between the heavy sweats and hoodie you have pulled on covering any bit of scandalous flesh.

Of course you’re covered up, with cool icy air filling the room, silently blasting from a vent above. The sweat pouring off his skin immediately evaporated after being welcomed inside. “What type of theme did you want to stick with?”

“Hmm,” swinging a stringy pair of panties around your index finger, your head tilts thoughtfully. “Summer? I guess baby oil, suns out buns out type of vibe.”

Jaemin clears his throat, twisting his eyebrows up asking if he can take a look through your drawers. “Do you have ice cream by chance?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Flavor?”

“Strawberry popsicles, I think I have some Vanilla Bean too. Are you hungry?”

Turning back to face you, he holds up a two piece micro white bikini. “I have an idea, I’m thinking out on the balcony would be best.”

Jaemin’s very professional considering the lack of experience on his resume. He asks permission before touching anything, double checks that you’re comfortable with any of his suggestions. For an Alpha, he’s kept cool and collected, even as you start to disrobe. The bathing suit he handpicked doing little to nothing to subside less than pure thoughts from unraveling. He gulps, forcing himself to focus on pretending to set the camera up.

Suddenly he was beginning to understand why Jeno’s been dropping absurd amounts of money to jerk off to your content.

“Is this okay?”

His eyes drag up slowly, from your manicured white painted toenails, up the expanse of glistening oiled up skin leading to your pressed together thighs where a miniature triangle shape conceals nothing in-between.

“Uhh..” he salivates, lapping at the roof of his mouth like a thirsty dog.

“Jaemin?” Your tone changes from one of concern to amusement, continuing to spritz your hair with water for a wet summer look.

“You look great.” He nods rapidly, quickly averting his attention to your chest jiggling beneath two tied together triangles with each movement you make. “Sorry, was just a little surprised.”

“You must be mated?”

Jaemin blinks, taken aback by your forwardness, shaking his head before words can exit his dry tongue. “Not at all, why would you think that?”

“Oh, you’re well-mannered, for an Alpha.” You note, shrugging and gesturing to the deck area. “How should I pose?”

“Let’s get some close-up shots first.” Jaemin directs you to catch sunlight draping streams of golden rays across your face. Half shadowed and lit up by the natural light. Instructing you to slowly unwrap one popsicle and take your time to suck on it.

“I think you’ll really like these.” The click click of his camera continues, zooming in to capture your lips pouting around sugary red liquid dripping down under the heat of your mouth paired with hot weather. “Let it spill.”

Growing confident with his position, Jaemin motions for you to hold the popsicle above your parted lips, allowing the treat to pour down your throat. The majority of it missing, staining white lycra fabric stretched over your breasts.

“You’re getting hot right?” He switches to record, nodding to the lounge chair for you to sit on. “Cooling off with a popsicle?”

“Mhmm”

Jaemin stays silent, capturing the wet droplets of red passing down your abdomen to land between your thighs. He lets you pose lewdly, tracing the popsicle down to melt against your bikini bottoms, lighting up hot where your cores melted the fabric to you like a second skin.

“I’m so hot, Alpha.” Hazy eyes and a tempting tone mesmerize the man behind the camera, sinking down to squat and zoom in on slick gushing out onto your spread inner thighs. “Need you to cool me off.”

You rub the popsicle up and down, pushing against the crease that's melted into your dripping wet slit. The red dye used in the treat leaves a stain of sweetness on your bottoms. The white bleeding out into a pink the more it melts, left to wither down to nothing but a wooden stick with a phrase that reads “Today is your lucky day!” hidden under the frozen liquid that’s altered your swimsuit.

Jaemin clenches his teeth to contain a muffled curse. Twitching inside the confinement of his jeans as you arch up higher, pushing your chest up. Round mounds call to his tongue, sticky and wet from oils and sweat.

“Hmm, no I was thinking more like..” The Alpha seems more heated now, possibly from the sweltering heat burning down on your backs. Possibly from the close proximity or the obscene positions you’ve fallen into under his command. He scoops two digits into the tub of melted Vanilla ice cream, lifting them to your lips to lap at. Camera shutters sound as your tongue swirls, sucking some of the sweetness while the rest trickles out pouring down your chin to your exposed chest.

“That’s good,” he whispers, scooping more to dribble down your cheeks and breasts. Watery white cream creates a more lewd image, paired with heavy eyelids shielding your seductive gaze.

“Tell me what to do, Alpha.”

“Turn around.” He instructs, nodding in approval when you get onto all fours and crane your neck for more direction. You’re a natural, he thinks, propped with your ass up at a perfect angle. The sun hitting just right to define the dip in your back and heady gaze staring back at him.

Jaemin can’t believe it when his free hand reaches for the tub of ice cream, pouring the remnants down to land in globs on your buttcheeks. The indecency in front of him feels like a punch to his gut, having to snap photos of the cream trickling down the back of your thighs. The sight before him more pornographic and delicious than he can fully process.

He croaks for you to spread, losing his cool demeanor as your knees slide further apart, playing with the thin strings on your hips. The flossy material cuts between the meat adorning your hips and backside, squishing the shiny delicacy displayed.

“Alpha..” you breathe, falling to your side to give him a full visual of your body lines. Dips and curves shadowed like art with sun rays sliding across your skin.

Jaemin debates with himself, thoughts spiraling that you could just be acting, or you could actually be calling for him to do something. To make the first move, to touch you where you begin to part and show off glistening slick dripping down to the backs of your thighs.

“You’re doing really good.” He swallows, mercilessly throbbing inside of his boxers. “How far are you—..”

He drawls off, following the pathway your digits make between your covered folds. Chest rising and falling rapidly as more sweat sprinkles down from the back of his neck to pool at the dips on his lower back.

“Alpha.”

Jaemin thinks he’s imagining your saccharine vocals whining for him, each letter passing through his ears like dry cotton. Snapping out of it as the heel of your foot nudges his knee, trailing up to rest your toes just where his pants have begun to tent out.

“Uhhh..”

“Alpha, I’m so hot.” You tease, sucking sticky ice cream residue off your fingers. “Won’t you cool me down?”

He wonders what his breaking point will be, fingers shaking around his camera more and more with each photo snapped.

“We’re losing light.” He mutters to save his ass, biting at the back of his tongue to prevent himself from getting fired by unleashing the amount of impure thoughts racing through his mind.

“Do you need a ride home?” Sitting up, your demeanor swaps in an instance, returning to the relaxed mood you had prior to the shoot.

Jaemin’s breath lodges, head shaking as he swiftly adjusts his shirt to hang lower before his crotch before standing up. “All good, no worries.”

“I’m a mess.” You laugh, sporting an expression of disgust while swiping a towel up and down your arms. “Are you sure? I can call you a cab.”

Jaemin refuses to meet your gaze, too embarrassed with his cheeks lit aflame by heat and mortification. He waves breezily, beginning to pack up his belongings. “No worries, I don’t live too far.”

He’s lying, and dreading the long journey back home that will drain his the minimal energy he has left with this humid heat.

“Here, I’ll grab you some water bottles to take for the trip.”

He keeps calm, situating his fully hardened length beneath the hem of his jeans when you turn away. Covering that he’d begin editing tonight and send you the final products as soon as possible.

“Get home safe.” You smile, reaching out to pinch his cheek. “If any Omega catches you sporting wood on the subway, they’ll have you arrested for being such a pervert.”

Jaemin’s cheeks burn bright red with his hand stilling in the air to wave goodbye. A girlish laugh follows as you wave him goodbye and close your door to shower off the remnants of sweet ice cream sticking to your skin. The image of big round eyes full of lust paint the back of your mind, memorizing thick fingers smearing a treat on your chin.

“These turned out great.”

Jaemin’s back, pep talking himself up on the way over to your place to stay cool. Money’s on the line here.

“I really like your style.” You say, browsing through the photos Jaemin took of you yesterday. Too distracted to give you his full attention as he once again admires your absurdly large fully furnished penthouse.

“You even have a PS5..” he mumbles under his breath. Tugging tufts of thick black hair through his fingers trying to calculate just how small his shared apartment is in comparison.

“Oh yeah, a subscriber sent me that,” you wave off like it’s not big deal. Choosing the best shots to use for a new set only your top tier fans would be able to immediately view.

Jaemin can feel his heart drop down to his gut, nearly losing his footing. “You didn’t even have to pay for that?! There’s no way you can afford all of this from just doing Omega fans!”

Snickering, you wink at him, nodding to a stack of packages waiting to be delivered. “Of course not, merch is where the real money comes from.”

“Merch?? Wha—“

“Oh you know, worn underwear, bottles of slick, a mold of my pus—“

“WHAT?” Jaemin has to laugh, pushing hair completely away from his forehead as the skin wrinkles down the middle. In disbelief that Alphas could really be this desperate. As if his best friend isn’t one of the many dropping money every month just to ruin and discard another innocent tube sock.

“It’s a lucrative career, believe it or not.”

“Respectfully, like, ballpark..”

“$90-100k every month.” You inform him eagerly. “Already planned my early retirement.”

“A MONTH?” Jaemin sits back landing against one of the stools lined up by your kitchen island. Hearing those numbers made his head spin, shocked enough to wonder how Alphas could be this stupid. How his own best friend is one of them. “How much do your highest patreons get charged monthly?”

“Highest tier is $100, you catch more bears with honey.”

Jaemin’s eyes bulge, gripping onto the counter ledge, seething between his teeth. “Jeno.”

“Jeno?”

He grunts, gripping hard enough for his knuckles to turn white. “My friend, he’s one of your subscribers.”

“Hmm..is he cute???” You ask, amused by the Alpha in front of you losing his professional composure.

“Uh,” Jaemin snaps, shaking his head, trying to calculate how much money his roommate has dropped on your website for the last two years. “God we could have a better A/C unit..”

Looking up at your lost stare, he shakes his head again, waving a hand and standing up. “Yeah, I guess he’s cute, for a freaking idiot.”

“Maybe you can bring him over next time.” You say, cocking a brow suggestively.

Jaemin pauses, reaching to pack up his camera bag. “Next time?”

“See,” moving closer, you take a hold of his wrist. “My fans, they have requests.. but it’s been hard to find attractive young Alphas I can trust.”

“What type of requests?” Jaemin sits back down, crossing his arms. The white short sleeve t-shirt he’s wearing struggles to contain his biceps. Growing stronger and thicker after hauling around heavy camera equipment everyday.

“I have a high roller, ironically a CEO of a well known heat suppressant company.” You start to explain, snorting at the job title. “He’s been begging for months to make this specific content during my heat.”

“Right, and what exactly is he asking for?”

“Just your run of the mill Alpha gangbang.” You say nonchalantly, making the Alpha sat before you splutter.

“What?!?”

“He’s offered to pay $100,000.” You nod. Jaemin has to gulp, head spinning again in disbelief that anyone could be that horny.

“That’s insane.”

“You’d be surprised.”

Sighing, Jaemin shrugs contemplating if anyone would pay for naked photos of him in obscene positions. “My roommate would probably film that with you for free.”

“I’d pay you, of course..” you say, tilting your head curiously to observe his next reaction. Met with a pair of wide shocked eyes, he babbles, laughing awkwardly.

“Me?!” Jaemin’s laugh grows in pitch, slowly losing volume the more he thinks about it. “..how much?”

“How much do you want? I’m willing to negotiate.”

“That’s..” he huffs, blinking in disbelief. “You’re joking right? Just messing around with me?”

“Not at all, Alpha,” with a sneaking grin, you click the camera next to him to turn on. Shifting closer once the red light brightens up, the lense moves around letting out sounds as it focuses on your figures. “We can start slow..”

Jaemin gulps, feeling the proximity between your lower regions grow sparse. Returning to grip onto the ledge of the island at his side where the camera sits capturing just enough of your lips and chests. Inching closer together as you straddle his lap and drape your arms over his broad shoulders.

He gulps to calm the tremor running through his throat, unused to an Omega making the first move. “Me? Y-you want to film content with me??”

“Depends,” you settle onto his lap with a smirk. Easing closer until your crotch presses directly where he’s began to grow. “How much?”

Jaemin shivers, choking on a trail of spit lodged at the back of his mouth. You had already paid him more than enough for some amateur photos taken around your place with little to no effort from himself.

But the prospect of thousands of dollars entering his bank account from only sleeping with a very attractive Omega is more than enough to entice him. Nodding, he mumbles a number without confidence. Reminding himself in the back of his mind that a few thousand dollars can’t be more than mere chump change to you.

“Sounds good.”

Jaemin grabs onto your hips when you agree to the amount. Canting upward to bounce you against the bulge pushing through the seam of his jeans.

Jeno was going to kill him.

“Jeno?” Jaemin steps inside of his boiling hot apartment, kicking off his shoes to a pile with his roommates. The low brrr from his fan sounds, coming from the other Alphas bedroom. “He seriously better not have left that on, running up the damn electric bill as if we need that.”

Jaemin doesn’t expect to find his friend hunched over at his computer, headphones hanging on his neck with wide eyes blaring at the screen before him. “Oh, you’re home.”

“Traitor!” Jeno snaps, lunging up at his roommate, toppling over his gaming chair in the process.

“Jeno! What the fuck! Get off of me!” Jaemin scrambles, his grip slipping off the other Alphas soaked skin. He grunts, pressing his knee into the others firm abdominal muscles to keep him in place.

“You fucked my favorite Omega?!”

“Oh my god! She uploaded it already??” Jaemin’s speechless, caught off guard by the news momentarily enough to receive a slap across his face.

“I can’t believe you!”

“We didn’t fuck! Get off of me!”

“No!” Jeno slaps him again, tussling back and forth on the ground until Jaemin manages to get the upper hand and lock him in place with his bicep lodged against his neck.

“If you kill me, you’ll never get to meet her.”

Jeno’s head lifts, ears perking up like a puppy hearing a can of food begin to open. “What?!”

“Are you going to calm down now, pup?” Jaemin sneers, pushing off using the back of his hand to wipe away sweat that's pouring from his forehead.

Jeno groans, pushing to stand back up, he motions to the screen where a video showing the side of his roommate’s face has been paused. “How did this happen!”

“She hired me to photograph her.” Jaemin begins to explain, rubbing at his sweaty nape. “I don’t know, okay? But..”

His gaze skirts between Jeno and the screen. “Did you watch it already?”

“I was about to! Until I saw your fucking giant teeth show up, was like a nightmare. I had to stop the video before it could get any worse.”

Jaemin rolls his eyes, sitting on the edge of Jeno’s bed. “Don’t be so dramatic. Could you play it? I don’t know what the fuck I was thinking. I probably look so stupid..”

Jeno clicks his tongue annoyed, setting his chair back into place to get comfortable. “Unfortunately you don’t. Your dick looks huge too.”

Jaemin smirks, flicking the shell of Jeno’s ear. “Thought you didn’t watch it, liar.”

“I can’t believe this!” Jeno exclaims, clicking the video to play again.

“We didn’t even fuck.” Jaemin leans closer with elbows on his knees. “Honestly it felt so fast, I can’t believe I did that.”

Jeno continues to badger his friend with questions, ripping at his hair as the video goes on. The last thing he expected to see was a familiar face when he got the notification of a new upload featuring your Alpha neighbor assisting you through your pre-heat.

“God, she’s so hot.” Jeno groans, slamming the back of his head against the cushion, one of his hands sneaking beneath the waistband of his shorts out of Jaemin’s line of sight. Too caught up in the video playing to even notice.

It should feel weird to watch himself, to watch you touching him. To see the nervous way his throat bobs up and down the closer you lean in, bumping the tip of his nose with yours as you whisper too quietly for him to not feel nervous.

‘The Alpha next door stopped by,’ you announce for the viewers, toying with Jaemin’s shirt off screen.

“Pft..” Jeno huffs under his breath, squinting at the way you bat your eyelashes toward Jaemin. Flirting with him by giggling, tapping your nails against his jaw on the way to pinch his chin. Falling into a syrupy pretty octave the more you taunt him by repeating ‘Alpha Alpha Alpha’.

Should’ve been me, he thinks, thumbing at the precum that’s filled up his slit.

Jaemin’s undeserving, he doesn’t even know what you want, how you like it. Jeno eyes the kitchen counter, imagining how fast he would have bent you over, tugging on his length eagerly. The gasp you let out as you grind down on Jaemin repeats loudly in his thoughts.

Jaemin’s squirming, ashamed by how stunned he appears on video, too wanton and helpless for an Alpha who should have been taking more control. He let you play with him like a toy, rolling your hips back onto his lap to gain a full erection prodding into your backside.

‘So big Alpha.’

“Can’t believe she fucked you.”

Jaemin clears his throat, swiping his palm across the puffy bulge forming between his thighs. “We didn’t, yet..”

“You won’t.” Jeno says more brazenly, teeth slicing his bottom lip in an attempt to control his rage from toppling over. “You know how much I like her.”

“You and hundreds of thousands of other Alphas.”

“Whatever. Can’t fucking believe this.” Jeno groans, letting out a long dramatic sigh. “My dicks getting soft from watching this, I don’t think I can forgive you for this one.”

Jaemin rolls his eyes, letting out a sound of disgust when his friend wipes off his palm on his thigh. “You’re gonna wanna hear me out, and also owe me for this.”

“I doubt it.”

“She asked about you.”

Jeno’s head snaps to attention at that, just in time to miss Jaemin’s grunts passing from his computer speakers. “What??”

“I mentioned that you’re a fan.” Jaemin cringes at the visual of himself on a big screen reaching climax. His face rolling side to side on your shoulder, panting like some teenager experiencing their first rut. The blush on his cheeks high, making its way up to his earlobes burning red. Cumming without penetration like some horny pup, the number of viewers over 60,000 already after only an hour up.

“And?!?”

Jeno’s excited bounce snaps him out of his humility— reminding him that his roommate would have paid for an opportunity like this.

“She asked if any of my friends would be interested.”

“Oh my God!!” Jeno stands up, jumping in place as if he just received the best news ever— in his case, he probably just did. “Oh my God! No! You don’t understand!!”

The dark haired Alpha begins to pace, gathering tufts of hair with blown out pupils. “I’ve dreamt about this for so long! I did this! This is happening because of me!”

Jaemin sports a bored look, listening to his roommate ramble on about how he always knew he’d end up fucking you, he just didn’t know how or when, until now.

“That’s great dude, I guess. I’ll text her, but please do not mention that you’ll be more than happy to do this for free. We need the mo—“

Knocks boom from the entrance distracting the two from continuing their conversation.

“Hey! Open up! This tub of ice is heavy!”

“It’s Haechan.” Jeno announces, unlocking the front door to the miserable expressions his neighbors dawn. “Sup?”

“Let us use your fan? We offer bags of ice.”

They end up huddled seated on the floor complaining about how badly they all need to figure out how to either make more money, or move out.

“Maybe the four of us could split a mortgage for a house.” Renjun mewls over rubbing his chin. “A house with central air ideally.”

Jaemin eyes the three Alphas surrounding him, a melancholic desperation to enjoy their short days of summer left drags their lips down, frowns paired with desperation to do anything to better their situations.

It’s almost too perfect.

Jeno’s hunched over, sharp eyebrows never loosening up, licking at the corners of his mouth annoyed.

“Can you believe while we were sitting swamp ass in misery— Jaemin was fucking my favorite cam girl?!” Jeno blurts out before his roommate can recall the actual events that took place.

“We didn’t do anything like that, but..” Jaemin takes in his friends intrigued stares, nervously mumbling. “She’s looking for Alphas..”

Renjun’s brows twist, inching closer with interest. “For what?”

“To film content.”

Haechan pours another bag of ice into the bucket they’ve plotted before a fan, huddled together too close for comfort, occasionally brushing sticky skin against sticky skin. The cool breeze only enough to prevent them from overheating while still secreting sweat as they hold up personal fans to their faces and suck on half-melted Icee slushies.

“Content?” He raises a messy eyebrow, speaking into the spinning fan to alter his voice. “Doesn’t she do porn?”

“Jeno’s a big fan, must be good.” Renjun adds.

“Jeno is a horny dog,” Jaemin scoffs, ignoring the upset gasp his best friend releases. “I mean, I understand why he pays.”

“I pay and somehow you are the one getting a handjob..” Jeno mutters, more than annoyed still. Despite his anger, he still watched the video you posted with Jaemin a few more times. “She only fucks Alphas with notoriously big dicks. Should have been me.”

“Mine’s bigger than yours anyway.” Jaemin laughs, licking away sweat from his upper lip. “Listen, I know you guys are all as strapped for cash as I am.”

“Cash? Oh, I’m listening.” Haechan interrupts, tugging on the ring of his collar that’s dampened nastily with sweat.

“When you say notoriously big..” Renjun drawls, leaning back against a wall, pushing his hand-held fan beneath his shirt. “How big is big?”

“Bigger than you shrimp shit.” Jeno jeers, clicking his tongue arrogantly. “I seriously need to quit this college shit, I could make bank doing Alpha fans.”

Renjun rolls his eyes, too drained by the heat to put up a fight. “You’re a baboon.”

“Whatever.” Jeno ignores his name calling with a dreamy look in his eyes. “The first time I stumbled into one of her streams, she was testing out how fat of a knot she could take.”

Haechan’s head lifts suddenly more intrigued by this topic. “…..well?”

“I’ve never seen an Omega take a knot like her, ever.” He confirms, boasting about how your streams are always at the top of the Omega fans charts. “The coins never stop pouring in when she goes live. She’s always in the top 0.1% on Omega fans, I like to think my monthly subscription helps.”

“This is bullshit.” Jaemin cuts him off. “Look, I made enough in two days to cover 3 months of rent. If we help her out I think.. we could leave this shithole complex. I’m tired of these excuses for why maintenance can’t fix our ancient A/C units.”

“I’d do it for free.” Jeno says, earning a smack to the back of his head from Renjun.

“That’s why you are a baboon.”

“I’m in.” Haechan nods. “I can’t survive another summer like this, I can’t even do another week of this.”

“I mean..” Renjun grimaces. “Like, full nude? My whole dick out?”

Jaemin snaps his fingers for Jeno to whip out his phone, the four proceeding to watch the clip you made with the Alpha as their jaws hang to the floor.

“Oh, I’m so in.”

Jeno’s been running around like a puppy full of life, hopping into the air kicking his feet together letting out high pitched squeals.

“I even shaved my sack for this!” He exclaims, gripping onto Jaemin’s shoulders on their trek out of the subway station.

“Were we supposed to do that?” Haechan asks, taking a look at his worn down raggedy clothing. “I thought the idea was supposed to be.. we’re broke college guys.”

“That is the idea.” Jaemin answers, directing his group of friends into an upscale neighborhood decorated with lively tall trees and blooming gardens. “It’s all an act, we’re supposed to be her ‘neighbors’…and she’s this innocent sweet Omega who we take advantage of during her heat.”

Haechan bites back a smile nudging into his side, thoughts running rampant. “That’s hot.”

“No fucking way, is this seriously where she lives?” Renjun’s neck practically breaks from leaning back to take in the giant building towering before them.

“Yup, high-rise penthouse overlooking Seoul. The lifestyle horny idiot Alphas provide.” Jaemin glares at Jeno who beams with the brightest smile engulfing his eyes.

“She deserves all of it, and more.” Letting out a dreamy sigh he follows along to where Jaemin has to check-in at the front concierge to be allowed further inside. The four confirming their identification before passing along to the elevators.

“This is insane, I couldn’t even sleep last night, and when I can’t sleep, I jerk off!” Jeno complains in the lift. “But I didn’t want to waste— you know! So I ended up tossing and turning all night.”

“You’re worse than those kpop fans that follow around idols and trainees.” Renjun accuses, feeling jittery still about stripping down to nothing to hook-up with a stranger for thousands of viewers, maybe even millions. “This is my lowest low, and you’re about to cum in your pants.”

“I think you lowest low was popping your first knot in Science class when we learned about Omega anatomy.” Haechan grins. “You can’t live that down.”

“Shut up!” Renjun whines, the elevator dinging to upon reaching your floor. The three Alphas stare at the opened doors, gulping in unison before Jaemin signals for them to follow his lead.

“I would say don’t be nervous but,” he shakes, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “I’m fucking nervous right now.”

“Dude! You can’t be nervous! What about us?!” Haechan bemoans, gesturing to the three hiding behind the blond Alphas broad frame.

“Think about the money.” Renjun nods, reapplying chapstick to his lips that can’t seem to retain enough moisture. “This hallway alone has more square footing than our apartments combined.”

“Think about the pus—!” Jeno starts to holler, stopping in his tracks as the front door they stand before opens up revealing a face that’s become deeply ingrained in his mind. “Holy shit.”

Jaemin’s eyes shut, smiling and lifting a hand to greet you, internally cursing. “That would be your loyal subscriber.”

“Wow,” leaning against the door frame, you take in the new faces in front of you. The three sporting similar expressions with their jaws hung loose, wide-eyed and breathless. “You didn’t mention that they’re all so cute.”

Jaemin grins, motioning to his friends. “This is Haechan, Renjun, and Jeno, or as you know us, miserable sweaty Alphas willing to do a lot for money.”

“How much is a lot?” You ask slyly, purposely dressed down with a pair of loose sweats on and a loose top to play up a relaxed stay-at-home look for the filming.

“I’ll do anything!” Jeno blurts, slapping a palm over his mouth. “I mean.. my limits are very low.”

“Funds too.” Renjun whispers.

“Understood.” Standing straight, you hold up an index finger. “There is one thing, my funders have a common request. Come on in and we’ll see if you guys fit the criteria.”

The criteria: no one under 9 inches.

Haechan’s throat bobs reading over the contract you’ve printed four copies of. Rubbing his nape that feels cold from sitting in a room with blowing cool air. “I have to admit, I’ve never measured..”

“I have!” Jeno licks at his canines cockily, biting off the cap of a pen to spit off to the side. “11 inches long, and thicker than a bowl of oatmeal.”

“Wait wait!” You laugh, pulling out your phone to speed-dial your highest roller. “Need you guys to show me what you’re working with before we can sign off.”

Renjun’s eyes round, sticking halfway out of their sockets. “Like, right now??”

“Now or never.” Pointing the camera to face them, you nod for them to go on.

Jeno’s the first to jump to his feet, already half mass confined in a well fitted pair of black sweats. “I have nothing to lie about.”

True to his word, he pushes his boxers and sweats beneath his upper thigh in one fell swoop. His length falls free slapping onto the cotton fabric underneath , jerking mid-air, the fat pink tip darkening the longer he sits and waits to live out his wildest dreams.

“Very good.” A low deep voice emits from your phone’s speaker. “Bigger than the blond even.”

Jaemin’s head snaps up at that, squinting while sneaking a look to his side with an annoyed pout. “That’s not true!”

“The other two.” Says the voice, clearly coming from a male.

Haechan shares a pleading look with Renjun, moving to stand, waiting for the other to do the same. Huffing out a deep sigh, he hoists himself up sluggishly, tugging on the strings dangling in front of his groin.

“Well..” Haechan shrugs, smiling timidly as he unzips and draws himself out with a stroke at his soft size “I’m a grower..”

Renjun’s cheeks puff out, repeating money money money in his mind as he squeezes his eyes shut and pulls his length free.

“They can stay. Wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself too much.” The Alpha hiding on your phone screen chuckles. “Can’t wait to see what they do with you.”

Hanging up after hearing the approval, you hide a smile behind your hand taking in Renjun up and down. “Cute.”

“Did you just call my dick cute?!” He squawks, frazzled as he tucks himself away.

“You are really cute!” Haechan intervenes, throwing an arm around his roommate's shoulders, whispering ‘money’ with a pointed glare.

“The idea is that I’m in pre-heat,” you motion carelessly, beginning to stretch your limbs where you’re seated. “That’s the idea, but I actually am in pre-heat, so it works out great.”

“Oh, that’s..” Jaemin collects the signed contracts, gnawing on his upper lip. “Is that going to be a problem?”

Shrugging, you wave him off. “Don’t worry about it, I might get a little..”

Jeno’s practically salivating the more you continue to talk, all too familiar with how crazed and desperate for Alpha cock you get during your heats. His fingertips burn from rubbing up and down his thighs like a maniac, slurping at the drool gathering at the sides of his tongue. An overwhelming sensation of dizziness and lust replaces any semblance of sense as he sits across from you.

“Jeno?” Jaemin snaps his fingers, breaking the Alpha from his mesmerized trance. “Come on.”

“What??”

“I have to start setting up, were you not listening?”

“Uhh..” Jeno looks lost, flushed from the tip of his nose down to his pink chewed lips, causing Jaemin to grunt and grab on to the other to drag him out of the room.

“She’s gonna start with Haechan and Renjun first.” He reiterates, smiling to himself. “Because they’re smaller.”

Renjun fumed when you felt the need to mention that, pinching at Haechan’s forearm to control his temper. Humiliation that thousands of strangers would be watching him bare ass already had him regretting agreeing to this, now even more with you mocking his size for not being big enough.

“Should we step out then?” Haechan gestures toward the entrance, smoothing out the wrinkles on his t-shirt nervously. Everything becoming much more real now that he’s seconds away from hooking up with a stranger— not that this would be his first time, but on camera suddenly made things feel much more high-stress and real.

“Yeah, why don’t you guys show up saying your air conditioners not working.” You suggest, turning on the various cameras you have around your apartment for weekly live streams. “Don’t worry about acting really, it’s not that serious.”

Renjun follows after his friend, shifting about anxiously, muttering that he can’t stop the tremors running through his hands.

“We have sex all the time.” Haechan says, furrowing his eyebrows. “Okay, we have had sex. Maybe not a lot. Don’t think too hard, she’s an attractive Omega close to her heat, and I’m here..”

Renjun nods, rapping his knuckles against the door with a deep shaky breath.

“Hey?” You answer, ruffling your hair with a groggy look as if you’ve just woken up.

“Oh! Hey!” Haechan utters, waving awkwardly. “Hope we didn’t wake you! Our air stopped working a bit ago.”

“That’s terrible, it’s so hot out.” You groan, faking a yawn, tugging on the collar of your t-shirt to play up how hot you feel even inside of your chilly quarters. Renjun observes how well you fall into the ditzy cute innocent Omega you must portray on camera for your fans, pouting and whining at the end of each word like a petulant little brat.

“You think we can crash with you while the maintenance team works on it?” Renjun cocks an eyebrow, crossing his arms as he leans against your door frame.

“Ah, it’s kind of..” words stumble out alternating between whiny sounds as you attempt to think up an excuse. “I—….okay..”

Spinning on your heel, you offer them something to drink as they situate in your living room, seated on the couch they’d filled out their contracts at. “Thanks!” Haechan calls out, picking up a remote to scroll through the TV guide for something to watch.

Renjun glances back and forth suspiciously, his nose twitching, falling into character with more ease than he’d envisioned to be able to. “Hey, is it just me or she..”

“Oh, she definitely is.” Haechan says confidently, setting an arm behind his head with a grin pinching at his lips. “Why else do you think she hesitated to let us come in?”

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

The two share a sneaking look, settling at opposite ends of the couch to leave you with no choice but to sit between them when you show up with a tray of beverages.

“Oh..”

Neither seem interested in your presence, both lazily sprawled against the arm rests with their focus on the tv.

“Wanna play Mario Kart?” Haechan asks, throwing the remote aside. “Nothing to watch.”

“You guys can play..” you sigh, eyeing the small space you’ve been left with to sit between the two Alphas. Stuffy and cramped as you adjust to seat without trying to touch either of them.

“Nah, Renjun’s a sore loser. He complains way too much because I always win.” Haechan mumbles, holding one of the controllers out for you. “I’m sure you’ll be good.”

“What if I lose?”

The browns coloring Haechan’s iris gleam, speckled by different shades of orange and gold, inching closer until his lips sit centimeters away from yours. “If you lose..”

Renjun licks at his lips behind you, trailing his eyes down your back, becoming curious as to what you have hiding beneath the oversized t-shirt you probably slept in.

Haechan straightens up, blowing out a breath across your mouth. “..if you lose—you’ll sit on my lap the next round.”

“Next round?”

“Yeah,” he leans back, falling into a confident demeanor as he chooses to play as Yoshi. “Winner takes all.”

Princess Peach failed to even end up in the top 5 after the amount of times you swerved and smacked into the race track walls. The two Alphas at your sides hiding their and amused laughter with coughs the more you struggled and grew frustrated, wanting to hurdle the controller at a wall.

Haechan doesn’t say anything as music signals for the next round, spreading open his thighs to make room for you, he nods toward his lap with a silent command.

“I don’t think I can play again.” You say, feigning exhaustion by slumping back into the couch.

Renjun leans over, pinching your chin between two fingers to force your gaze up. “That’s not really fair is it, princess?”

A lazy hand lands around his wrist, pulling his fingers down lower to land on your throat. “I’m too hot.. can’t focus..”

“Come on princess, you know the rules here. You agreed to play, now you have to follow through.”

Haechan’s nose finds the column of your throat, gripping onto your waist to pull you onto his lap. “Stupid Omega letting the big bad wolves inside when her heats about to start.”

“No— no, Haechan, don’t..”

“Shh, you knew what you were doing.” Renjun squeezes your throat, shaking your neck with a tight hold. “Dripping right through your underwear as if we couldn’t smell you from down the hall. Don’t play dumb now, Omega.”

“I c-can’t..”

“Why are you lying, huh?” Haechan asks, pushing your ass down against his crotch. “Besides, when did I ask?”

“Don’t lie pretty, the more you lie, the more this will hurt.” Renjun catches your bottom lip just as Haechan slips his fingers past the top of your sweats, lowering slowly to cup your heat, letting out a grunt on your shoulder when he’s met with slick spilling out past the seat of your panties. Inner thighs coated with a mess of sweet delicious wetness dripping out of your hole like a broken faucet.

“No—no, not there, please..” Your pleading only makes them laugh, Renjun letting out a bitter chuckle as he releases his hardening shaft. Stroking up and down right before your face to give you a clear view of how thick and long he sits at full mass.

“So cute, right?” He taunts, shifting onto his knees on the couch to set his hips near your face. “Little brats like you think you can always get your way.”

Haechan slips in past your underwear, quietly cursing into your nape at the amount of slick dribbling between his digits. In disbelief that you’re this wet already, that they haven’t even fucked you yet and you’re drenching his crotch through your sweats.

“That little act you put on crumbles the second you see Alphas cock baby.” Renjun’s fingers trail up from your throat to your chin, thumb latching onto your bottom lip to pull it down. Drool gathers at the corners, trickling it’s way out down to your jaw to meet his digits that press harder. “Tell Alphas what you need, don’t fucking lie.”

“Renjun, pl-please, don’t be mean.” You gurgle, lapping at his thumb shoving your lip back and forth.

He grins, pushing the pad of his thumb down until you give and let him in, resting against your tongue heavily until you let out a gagging sound and wrap your lips around him.

“All that useless begging, look at you right now.” He sneers, pushing three more fingers into your mouth with ease. “Just like that, so obedient and cute.”

Haechan’s panting, working his hips up in circles against your damp bottom. Relentless with his digits rubbing in a blur over your clit. Nipping and sucking on your throat to quill some of his arousal that shouts throughout his head to rip off your sweats and plant you on his length until you cry out, begging to get fucked.

“Renjun,” coughing around his fingers working in and out of your mouth, you gag again, copious amounts of drool fountaining out around his hand down to your collarbone. “Please.”

“Please what? Use your words.”

Renjun loves it, loves how easy it was to shut you up, make you grovel for his cute cock. Pleading to do anything to you, to make you feel good.

“Something, please please Alpha.”

“This what you want?” Teasing at his slit, he eyes you curiously, wrapping around the base of his length to stroke himself to full hardness. Chubbing up impressively, definitely not as cute as you’d perceived.

He teases the tip along your upper lip, layering a coat of thick precum there to blend with drool. “Show me what that pretty bratty mouth can do.”

He felt even bigger against your tongue, finally breeching past your lips after pulling back teasingly with each flick of your tongue at his slit. The playfulness rapidly diminished as he buried forward, suffocating your nose with the smooth skin beneath his navel.

Sucking and gagging became inevitable around the Alphas size stretching your lips open painfully. Letting out loud groans above you with each ragged breath blown through your nose against his skin, each sloppy slurp around his size. Vibrating out moans between struggling to breathe when Haechan’s fingers sank lower, tapping at your entrance with extra force as he pushed the elastic in your underwear to the limits to get three of his digits inside of you.

The tip of Renjun’s length brutally punching the back of your throat only spurred more wetness out, gliding Haechan’s fingers to bury deeper. Growling as he nipped at your earlobe about how nasty you are, getting turned on by sucking cock like a whore.

“Only real sluts get wet from sucking dick, you know what that makes you baby?”

Licking up the bottom of Renjun’s length, you nod, enjoying how he weighed down on your tongue. Lips swollen from each pointed movement further pushing your mouth to open wide and take his entire size, tearing up and coughing all the more even as you tried to slow him down. Hands uselessly flying to grip onto his thighs and plead with wide begging eyes for the Alpha to slow and let you breathe.

“Aww, not so cute anymore?“ he grins, pushing your hair back grabbing fistfuls with a tight lock of his fingers; commanding control by pushing you further down his shaft to take it all.

Renjun never gave your mouth a break, thrusting his hips forward with vigor to fill your throat over and over. Biting down to calm pleasured groans from exiting, not wanting you to know how much he was enjoying this. You needed to earn it.

“That’s it, that’s how slutty Omegas suck cock.” Haechan praised, licking at your earlobe. Thumb swiping your clit in rapid motion as his fingers continued to pump inside you. “Cum around my fingers, let me feel you squeeze up. Cumming from taking Alphas dick down your throat. You know who cums from that baby? Bratty little Omega whores.”

“Ah, fuck,” Renjun’s tough facade snapped, breaking into pieces when your eyes rolled back the more Haechan stroked between your walls. Hips stuttering to a halt as his upper lip trembles over his teeth letting out breathy whimpers. “G-gonna cum, ugh fuck.”

A few more weak thrusts had hot release pouring down your throat. Shots of hot cum hitting your tonsils as your thighs clenched up, jutting back against Haechan with your hands reaching to clutch his wrist, squirming and crying around Renjun’s length as your own release hit. Punching from your gut to your throat, convulsing in time with each other dragging out a long orgasm from Renjun, collapsing down to his knees leaving cum to trickle out onto your chin.

“Fuck.”

Haechan’s sucking his fingers clean, licking between each to not miss any bit of your sloppy release, his free hand working to pull off your ruined bottoms with Renjun stripping your top off. Breath knocked from their lungs upon seeing your bared skin, obscenely wet down to your knees, hazily staring at them standing above you as you try to recuperate.

Haechan’s tongue drags across his palm, gaze lit up by the fear passing over your face the longer they stand there observing you. He’s the first to move, bending over by his waist to get in your face, whispering out hotly. “Now, tell me something.”

A ruthless grip captures your mound as he distracts you, digging the heel of his palm against your tender clit. “What type of useless Omega are you? Haven’t made me cum once.”

“B-but, you said..”

Two fingers roughly crook inside inside, gliding in despite how swollen your folds have become, filled with blood pumping down between your thighs. Throbbing loud enough you swear you can hear it, emptying the parts of your brain that help you function, giving into the heat with each press he buries deeply, curling his fingers up until your back arches. Crooning between a shattered moan.

“I said?” His pretty soft eyes widen, precious like a stuffed plushie you’d cuddle through the night. Actions speaking louder than the false image he uses to taunt you more with. “What did I say? Huh? Suddenly you listen?”

“I listen!” You end up shouting, too shook up by the stinging smack landing on your inner thigh. Digits ripping free from your core, oozing out tendrils of thick slick obscenely.

“What do you think, Renjun?”

Renjun’s face gives off more purity than Haechan’s, the smile teasing at his lips so sweet and soft. Irises gleaming angrily, sleek and cold. The two of them quietly preparing to destroy you. “I think she hasn’t done shit to prove why we should fuck her again.”

“Is that right Omega?” Haechan rips your head back, spouting a line of spit inside of your parted lips, he smacks at your jaw, dragging you to move by pulling at your scalp. “Say it.”

“Wanna make you cum Alpha, wanna be good for you.”

Renjun’s throat lodges a bit from the needy way you stare between them, letting Haechan’s spit rest on your tongue, pushing it out through pursed lips. Sweat dampened hair, big wet eyes, bloated spit coated lips, and slick pouring from your hole in globs, absolutely pornographic. He considers— if he had the money, he’d pay for your content too.

“Good,” Renjun voices, sitting down to move you onto his lap. Shedding his clothes off while Haechan played with you, his cock pressed to your lower back, fully hard again. “Because I’m gonna knot your pretty little pussy.”

Suddenly he’s pulling you back onto his cock with one smooth glide. Scrambling to position yourself with feet scurrying to perch on his thighs. The sound that emits when he shoves in absolutely filthy— disgusting, choking a moan from between your lungs as you head tosses back again.

“What makes you think you deserve to cum again?” Renjun bites at the shell of your ear, thrusting up sloppily from the amount of slick pouring onto his thighs. Slapping the sides of yours until your legs completely bend, steadily planting your feet above his knees to prop you open for the other Alpha.

“I’ve been good!” You cry out, repeating a chant of ‘please please please’ like a prayer, head flopping back onto his shoulder harder when Haechan crawls forward on his knees spitting at your clit. Tongue smearing the mess lower, meeting with Renjun’s length stretching you open. Tongue curling around your clit as two fingers find way to your entrance, gathering the wetness spilling out around the other Alphas cock.

“Please!” Renjun grunts, hips slapping against your bottom, digging his nails into the backs of your knees. Straining to fuck you faster, groaning louder each time Haechan’s tongue laps slick off his length.

“You—haven’t earned it yet.” He grits, breathlessly cursing.

“Please! Let me—Alpha, please!” Eyes roll to the back of your head, shouting out, clenching your toes. “Ahh! Ah—ahh fuck!”

Haechan shoves three fingers inside of you as Renjun thrusts out, pushing in through the free space to prod at your insides. The slide of cock against his long calloused fingers setting off a stinging pain to your chest.

“So fucking tight.” The Alpha on his knees says proudly, working to match Renjun’s thrust. Not even bothering to give you time to adjust, he sets a snapping pace pummeling a path inside immediately. “Don’t think she should get to cum until she can take us both.”

“Hear that baby?” Renjun breathes, delivering a pointed thrust to emphasize what Haechan said, pistoning with more ferocity and anger. The tip of his cock catching on your painfully stretched entrance with each pull out. “Begged to get fucked like a slut, that’s what you think you deserve?”

Between Haechan’s warm breath blowing on your clit and Renjun’s unforgiving movements, endless pleads begging to cum spill from your tongue. The Alpha inside of you chasing after his climax faster while bouncing you up and down, fingers jamming in and out, cock lodged deep inside, tongue flicking your clit over and over again.

“Alpha! Please—please cum!”

“Where?” Renjun huffs, thrusting harder, blinking sweat away from his eyelashes. “Ask for it!”

He slaps at your thighs, beating the skin with wicked stings. Cracking dry whimpers from your throat as Haechan’s lips suck around your clit. “I-Inside! Please! Inside!”

Renjun’s throat locks up, chest heaving and squeezing tight making it harder to breathe, pushing deep past where Haechan’s fingers can reach inside of you. Struggling to keep up his speed as the base of his size expands, pushing through with teeth gritted, hips not slowing for even a second despite the new resistance gripping him. Cum bursts, spilling down around his length from the extra stretch inside of you, flowing down to the other Alpha’s wrist who licks it up, suckling up the nasty mess of slick and cum.

“A-alpha..please let me cum, please.” Desperation has you near the brink of insanity. Body full blown trembling in the weakened hold on your thighs.

Haechan smirks, tucking his fingers inside his mouth, pushing up with his free hand to spit the combined release on your chin and chest. “You really think you deserve to cum already? What about me?”

Haechan’s pushing one of your thighs up higher before you can even register what’s happening, weakened and overstimulated from being edged for too long. The tip of his length prods at your filled entrance, dragging over your swollen clit, dropping his forehead to yours as he begins to push in past the tight squeeze he’s met with.

The cries and whimpers you let out only encourage him, pressing in more as he holds his breath, sucking in his nostrils to restrain the need to cum. Making Renjun let out a pitiful grunt against your shoulder when he slides against the other Alphas size. Knot full grown making his brain spin from the stimulation rubbing against him.

“So fucking dirty.” Haechan says, shoulders tensed from trying to contain himself. Throbbing against the deathlock your walls wrap around him as he meets obstruction, blending with Renjun’s length beneath. “Fuck, so fucking dirty and messy.”

The ache burns painfully, worse than before, stinging the backs of your eyes with moisture that pushes out at the first thrust he gives. Gliding in and out of you easily with Renjun’s cum leaking down between his thighs. Haechan buries his size inside of you with pointed thrusts, doing it with extra force just to watch the tears pour from your eyes faster, just to hear your cries grow louder, pour from the walls like music reverberating out of speakers.

“Made to get fucked.” He mutters, licking at sweat and tears dangling from the tip of your nose. “Made to take Alpha cock like this, take it like a good Omega. Offering your holes to any Alpha, desperate for a fat knot, so fucking greedy you need two.”

“Hae-haechan—“ it’s barely a whisper, croaking from the back of your throat. Bounced down onto Renjun’s knot, getting hard again enough to compose himself and match up to Haechan’s pace even when it hurts him. Too lust ridden to stop himself when your ass bounces against his stomach. Firm strokes filling you up, rubbing against each other incessantly.

“Fuck, gonna cum.” He pants against your lips, tongue laving out like a hungry dog. Biting and sucking on whatever he can catch, leaving your mouth more swollen and bruised. “Make Alpha cum baby, wanna feel that pussy squeeze up again.”

Guiding a hand between your bodies, he thumbs at your over-sensitive clit again, sending shock waves of pleasure up your spine. Head jerked back onto Renjun’s shoulder, blabbering between your cries as you finally clenched around the two; orgasm barreling out of you sending a wave of electric shock up to your brain. The scream you let out echoing off the walls, permeating obscene wet squelches paired with the Alphas noisy grunts.

“A-ahh—“ Haechan’s head drops, knot ripping out around his base with one more thrust, locking him into place unable to move anymore as his cock weeps. Cum pouring out of him fiercely, endlessly streaming out. Only able to stay inside from the knots battling to keep you plugged up.

Renjun’s hips jump up just once, grinding upward letting out another release between a strangled groan that barely exits his lips.

“N-no no more, noo..” you hiccup, sobbing into the crook of Haechan’s neck. The ache in your legs gone numb from the overwhelming heat filling your gut, splayed out like a broken doll between the Alphas. Panting like animals stuck in humid heat that won’t allow you to catch your breath.

“Good Omega.” Haechan pecks wherever his mouth can reach, nudging his nose against your eyelid. “God, you’re so good.”

Renjun lets out a muffled sound agreeing, blowing hot air along the back of your shoulder.

“Thanks for..” Haechan grins, lip curling up wickedly. “Letting us come over.”

He’s not sure if he should kiss you, blinking up making direct eye contact with one of the various streaming cameras— he remembers that this isn’t live, opting to gently peck the tip of your nose. “You okay?”

“Mhm..” your eyes can’t seem to stay in place, as if the sockets have lost control of power, rolling back still too high off your climax. “Thank you Alphas.”

“Hey?” Jeno pokes into your bedroom, subtly ducking his chin in to hide the thrill painting his features upon seeing your set-up. Swallowing down a raspy cough, he glances around, smirking at the visual of your pink bedding. The room he’s dreamt of for months, weeks, days, restless nights awake stroking his cock to made-up fantasies of turning you around into multiple positions on this bed.

He’s calm, mostly, stealing looks around for where various cameras have been placed to capture different angles of what’s about to go down.

“Jeno?”

Your voice shivers up his spine, flaring his nostrils as he lets the scent of rose petals in your body wash lingering on your flesh circle around him. The prominent aroma of heat hits stronger than any amount of scrub and bubbles you used to cleanse your skin of Renjun and Haechan’s cum.

Honey.. sweet dripping honeycombs..

Jeno has to stop himself from sucking down a deep breath of slick gathering between your thighs. Muscles strain beneath the sweat soaked cotton material of his shirt, twitching while he tries to keep collected, turning to face you with an easy smile. “Jaemin sent me in to see if you’re ready for the photoshoot.”

“Oh, I didn’t know you’d be coming too?”

Jeno shrugs, explaining his sweaty appearance by telling you the story of their broken air conditioner while you sort through a rack of scantily clad garments hung on silk hangers. He thinks it’s fitting, everything in your bedroom screams feminine, delicate and pretty, only adding more ideas in his mind of different ways he’d love to rip off your designer lingerie. His monthly fee had to contribute to your closet somehow.

“Everyone’s air conditioner’s breaking from these heatwave’s..” you mumble, shyly gripping tighter onto the towel wrapped around you.

“Do you feel uncomfortable with me being here?” Jeno questions, proceeding to carry on conversation as if red lights from the cameras couldn’t bother him in the least.

“A little,” you say, sparing him a coy look over your shoulder with a small wink. “Jaemin told me that you’re one of my subscribers. Maybe you can help me choose what to wear?”

Jeno’s mouth hangs open comically following your towel slipping off, immediately hit with a potent waft of your scent. He has to tighten his fist as his sides to stop from lunging at your bare backside. Stepping closer with thinning eyes to stand behind you, he digs at your shoulder with the tip of his nose. Hands finding the back of your waist to tickle at with light grazes.

“Why would you put something on?” He glowers, quietly speaking. “You think I won’t just rip it off of you?”

“Alpha, what are y-you..” Jeno’s instincts take over, already forgetting he’s here technically to work.

“I’ve been subscribed to you for a really long time.” He whispers for you, hoping the microphones Jaemin set up can’t pick up on his low rumble. “Is that weird?”

Jeno’s cute— kind of in the same way Renjun’s dick is cute, but even cuter. The calmest he’s been since arriving with the others just now, pheromones similar to an Alpha pup entering their first rut, even that aspect melted your chest, having to bite your tongue from over-complimenting the Alpha in the moment to keep the act going.

“Do you know how many of my subscribers wish they could fuck me?”

Jeno splutters, pinching his fingers into where your waist dips, bottom lip jutting out as he shakes his head.

“Every single one of them. Don’t let them down.. Alpha.”

He’s been waiting so long for this, even had to wait while his friends fucked you first. Chewing at his nails nervously while he sat out on the balcony with Jaemin, he thought about it, remembering each time you’d notice his messages in the chat and responded with a devilish smile.

“None of them have ever wanted you as much as me.” Jeno steps closer, positioning your chest against the wall with his hips circling against your backside holding you in place with one palm flattened on the curve in your spine. “None of them will ever fuck you the way I’m about to.”

“Alpha..” you say it in such a gentle tone, lowering down to the coquettish gamer girl voice that always makes payments drop into your account faster. Tongue hanging out for Jeno’s eyes to track, following the little wiggle you give before he snaps, darting forward to trap you between his lips.

It’s not a slow kiss, lacking rush as he savors tasting you for the first time. Just as sweet and tantalizing as he always imagined, better even; cherry flavored jolly rancher that he wishes could permanently stain his tongue with remnants of its flavor.

The Alphas strong build melts heavily against your back, trailing bony long fingers between your lower halves to tug himself free.

“F-fuck.” You gasp, planting your forehead against the wall, losing the hold around your tongue. Lips returning to an abused swollen state from the heated kiss.

“I know how you like it.” Jeno whispers, licking up your jawline to your earlobe, nipping as he slaps his length between the crevice of your ass. “I know how you love it.”

His shaft feels weighty on your bottom, slapping down landing with obscenely loud smacks the cameras could pick up on even without microphones. “How’s your pussy gonna take all this dick baby?”

Jeno already has your eyes rolling up, from the gravely rasp in his tone to his sheer mass pressing heavy on your body, forcing your nipples to scratch against the wall sending shrill sensations down to the gushing space between your thighs. “Thought you were a fan..”

“Oh I am.” Jeno clicks his tongue, kissing at the backs of his teeth. Bending at his knees to swipe between your buttcheeks. “Gonna fuck every part of you.”

He pushes between your thighs to emphasize, grunting like a beast against your nape. Excitement from before spiraling into the pure need to fuck and breed, fill you with pups before any other Alpha can.

Even between your thighs Jeno feels too thick, forcing your knees to bump into each other with each splitting thrust he gives. Pushing at his sweats haphazardly to relieve his balls of the heat swarming his skin, his Alpha taking over chanting to mate mate mate. Each slap of his hips screams against your backside, resounding an aggressive clap throughout your bedroom.

Jeno can hardly believe your slicks staining his sweats, leaking out for him, pussy folds draping around his size pleading to be filled. “My Omega, gonna be dreaming about my cock after this. On your knees for me, begging for Alpha to fuck you.”

The heat between your thighs becomes unbearable, jammed against his size viciously strumming your clit. Heavy palms cup your waist, riding you back and forth on his length faster, scrabbling at the wall.

Jeno shouts a string of curses, ripping away only to throw you down on the bed. Throat tight as he swiftly twists off his shirt. Pupils blown wide covered in black, a blush rising from the center of his chest to warm pink nipples, tracing the veins lining his throat to where his lips swell into a pout.

He stands proud following your heated gaze to his gleaming shaft standing tall, reaching the middle of his carved abdomen. Instinctively clamping your thighs together when he approaches, kicking his sweats off, smiling too adorably as he captures your thighs.

“What happened to being the queen of taking cock?”

Jeno lets out a giggle, a fucking giggle, amused by the sheer terror crossing your expression. Spreading your thighs apart, losing his stature when your heady scent hits him. Pussy insanely drenched leaving a puddled mess to create under your ass.

His length drapes down the center of your stomach, the tip landing just above halfway. Poking at your muscles twitching under his size. “That’s how deep I’m gonna fuck you.”

The need to claim you and make you his intensifies more, mesmerized by your hole twitching, pulsing around nothing. Your body screaming from anywhere to get fucked, for him to fuck you, that’s all Jeno can think. You need him to fuck you.

“Only I get to see you like this..” He says, jaw locking when he has to specify. “…out of all the Alphas who pay.”

The realization stirs up the Alphas primal hunger, desire overflowing to ruin you, ruin you for only him. Ensure that no one else will ever be good enough, no one else will ever satisfy you.

Jeno almost feels embarrassed as he circles the tip of his length on your entrance. Shivering from his thighs to where his throat bobs up and down. Prolonging teasing your hole only for his sanity— quietly pep-talking himself up to not cum in a minute, he hadn’t edged himself for hours into the night missing sleep over your videos to fuck up this chance.

After what feels like an eternity, he sucks down a deep breath lowering inch by inch into your sopping wet cunt. Lewd ridiculous sounds of wetness gush out around his fat size, walls clamping down sucking him in to move even faster. True to his word, your stomach extends when he sinks inside to the hilt, cock pushing your walls to a new stretch. Fiercely throbbing between your convulsing heat.

“Oh fu-fuck..” Jeno’s mouth drops open, his eyes rolling up as if this was his first time. Your pussy tightening around his size like a glove, the veins beating up and down his length molding to the shape of your insides. “So—so fucking tight.”

Jeno’s mewling, brain thoughtless to the cameras recording, not a care in the world about the amount of comments that would make fun of him. His reaction only confirming you weren’t just a pretty Omega for Alphas to shower with gifts, but the actual girl of his dreams. The fleshlight he discretely kept hidden under his bed from your merch site would never be able to compare.

He pulls out only to slam his cock back in, drowning in the way you spasm and clench around him. Pussy locked tight refusing to let go, knowing in the back of his mind he’d have you trained to take his size everyday, turn you into the perfect doll to sit on his cock.

The Alphas hands find your curved waist, dipping the pads of his fingers in to gain momentum. “So pretty, you’re so pretty.” He says between labored breaths, cock stroking in and out too rapidly, losing coherency too much to even understand him.

Jeno’s speed becomes punishing, caught up in his own crazed lust, determined to push cum far deep enough inside of you that you taste him in the back of your mouth.

Moans and whimpers soar off your tongue, head thrashing side to side as the Alpha lifts your ankles to his shoulders, pounding faster until you’re limp. Hanging boneless on his cock spearing all the way inside, bulging the skin around your navel out with each deep hit.

“Alpha..c-cum,” you babble breathlessly. Air knocked out of you with each unforgiving slide of Jeno’s length pushing your mind further away. “C-close, I—close.”

He nods, taking the initiative to fuck you with extra force until you’re shouting, gripping at the pillows above your head. The pillows he’s watched you ride and get off on countless amounts of times. Memories of cumming in the shower, at 3am in bed, even in the school bathroom resurface as his gaze takes in your breasts bouncing, clapping together from the impact of his body engulfing yours.

“Cum for your Alpha, cum for me baby.”

Your orgasm clutches you by the throat, beckoning your back to arch up as your release nearly forces Jeno’s size to push out. Wetness spritzing over his abs and chest, even reaching up to slap under his chin.

“What’s taking so long?” Jaemin steps in right as Jeno folds you in half, the backs of your knees hoisted to the sides of your head, neck thrown back in a complete daze.

The Alpha on top of you catches his friend entering from the corner of his eye, a camera in hand as they planned for better up-close shots under the premise of photographing content for your page. His thrusts never falter, angling and maneuvering just right to reach where you need, pummeling moaned gasps from the back of your throat.

“Gonna fill you full of pups.” Jeno mostly says to himself, voice rough and serious with each dip crushing his abdominal muscles together. Sweaty and flexing the more he grinds forward, grunting through licks at his teeth. “Want Alpha to breed your pretty cunt? You’d like that wouldn’t you?”

Fixated on chasing his release, Jeno pushes your thighs to your chest. Pressing hard watching his cock punch through your slick velvety walls. Entrance clinging to his thick girth, looking raw and used, still wanting more.

Droplets of sweat rain down, landing to melt along the backs of your legs from where they jump off Jeno’s jaw, neck rippling under a sheet of sweat. Exerting more power to cage you completely, leaving little to no room for you to even squirm away.

Jaemin expected to walk in on this, what he didn’t expect was the wash of annoyance that poured down his mind. Biting at his bottom lip to control himself from ruining the moment, he powers on the camera in his hand; zooming in to your face as Jeno leans in to give you the messiest, spittiest, barely there kiss. A kiss more so meant for his friends eyes only.

“What was that?” Jeno spews, wet hair flopping on his forehead. The heat from your bodies overpowering the air blowing from the vent above your door. Even Jaemin has to lap away sweat from his upper lip the closer he approaches.

Jeno’s question breaks through your mind with another ruthless snap of his hips. Chanting a round of broken yesyesyesyes, shouting out for the Alpha when his relentless pounding turns erratic, burning your back to shift up your bed. Damp bedding lights fire up your back, dragged harder by the Alpha losing his restraint, stilling right as your head hits the headboard.

Jeno’s growls sound close to whines, pup whines. Fucking like he’s never had a rut before, never slowing, emptying cum deep inside your walls for what feels like hours. Knot popping, sending hisses between his grinding teeth, deeply wrinkled around his squeezed shut eyes. Shallowly continuing to fuck your pussy through his never ending orgasm, knot attempting to sneak through with another thrust.

“Too much! S-too much!” You sob, head reeling and aching from how hard Jeno had fucked you, the headboard smacking back when you collided.

Jaemin taps his friend's shoulder, breaking his daze. Finally letting your legs down gently to not flop down harshly.

Jeno wants to curse, cry, shout and scream, kick his legs. Smoothing his hands down soft tender flesh lining your inner thighs, fixated on your ruined hole plugged up full of his cum, filled to the brim by his cock and knot. “So perfect.”

He shifts back just enough to admire white hot release squeeze out. Knot covered with a mixture of you both, something he could get off to if he had a photo on hand. Nodding for Jaemin to come closer and get a shot as he dips his digits to collect some of the blend, raising it to your lips letting out whines from over sensitivity.

“Open baby, that’s it pretty baby.” He coos, pushing a filthy wad of your cum onto your tongue, plump lips wrapping around his fingers with a suck.

Jaemin concentrates on filming your face, his dick twitching when your relaxed expression switches to one of fear, Jeno going on about how good you feel, how he’s your Alpha now.

“Who owns you now? Hmm?” He asks, penetrating his digits further in until you’re gagging, coughing from the rough pace he starts prodding your mouth with.

“You know why she’s not answering?” Jaemin interrupts, scanning the drool that's covered your chin and chest. “You can’t own a slut.”

Without another word, Jaemin elbows Jeno’s side, taken over by how long he’s waites. How infuriated he feels having to witness another Alpha fuck you stupid when that should be him.

The Alpha in question grumbles, knot gone down enough to be shoved aside with ease to be forgotten. He sits near, doing as he was instructed to earlier— ‘film it like a viewer would enjoy, you should know how.’

Jaemin’s fast to turn you over, his hands brushing up the backs of your thighs to grip your hips. Positioning your ass up like a good Omega presenting for their Alpha, not even giving you a minute to realize he’s about to fuck you face down ass up before he swipes between your folds gathering slick and cum, burying into your ass with one push.

He’s big— so fucking big. Fully erect, stretching your hole wide around thick fat girth. The better part of Jaemin long gone, his only care now to fuck your ass raw, hear your wails blast around the room, claim a part of you before Jeno can.

He’s so deep, filling your hole up giving you no time to even adjust, writhing as you reach for something, anything. Clutching at your bed topper, at Jeno’s smooth built thigh. The Alpha panning over the exposed white of your eyes, tongue hung out trickling saliva out like something straight out of Hentai.

Jaemin’s strong thighs press to the backs of yours, cock fully breaching your hole, stinging from the tip of your spine all the way to the top. Cries, sobbing cries sound before you can even register, fucked too stupid by the fullness splitting your ass open.

Nothing about the Alphas movements comes across charming or polite anymore, brutally gripping your hips with a bruising hold; leveraging your weight to snap forward forcing a deep bowed arch in your back.

Skin clapping against wet skin boomed around your bedroom, muffling the whimpering moans spewing from your chest. Jaemin only spurred to fuck you full of his rage— rage that should be directed at the Alpha equally irritated behind the camera.

“Alpha! Please—“ saliva collecting around your tongues slips free, covering your chin in more of a mess. Adding more obscenity to the visual of Jaemin’s broad figure behind you, pushing the mounds of your ass to roll over onto your lower back with each pummel of his hips.

“Did I say you could fucking speak?” Jaemin growls, slapping your hip before looping a fist through your hair. Yanking to lift your head for the camera lense to zoom in and out and focus on the disaster that’s taken place. Tears streaming down your flushed cheeks, lips debauched from chewing and biting, snot mixing with sweat above your pout. A nasty little mess, manhandled around by Alphas like nothing but a useless fucktoy.

“You see Jeno?” He leans over, pressing against your ass making your thighs scream from the burn of his weight pushing you into a half-split bent at your knees. “He’s your biggest fan.”

Jaemin’s tone fills with mockery, taunting and picking at his friend, taking a hold of your jaw with his other hand to make you look at the camera, look at Jeno’s enraged face hiding behind it. The cold gaze watching you coiling heat through your gut, spiraling up your chest. Trapped by the Alphas hand lowering to cup your throat with a squeeze, coughing through sobs the more he tightens.

“So fucking ungrateful, he pays so much just to watch you, pretend you belong to him.” Jaemin tuts, lifting hooded eyes to glare at the other. “This is how you thank him? Let his best friend fuck your ass. Such a fucking whore.”

Jeno’s lips pull back in a snarl, silently warning his roommate to stop trying him. Making him suffer as much as he’s made you with the bullshit he goes on saying.

“You can thank him better than this.” Jaemin says, roughly shaking your throat in his grip. “Come on, open up that pretty mouth.”

Instantaneously your tongue lolls out like a bitch in heat, causing Jeno to grunt, clamping his free hand around the base of his shaft. Shame and thrill combining to rip a guttural moan through it all. Jaemin only using your brainless weakened stated to his advantage.

The Alphas bicep lodges against your throat, squeezing your breath to choke out with every thrust, his other hand fisting your hair until your neck arches back in a painful way. Jeno getting an amazing shot of your tongue hanging lifelessly, drooling onto Jaemin’s meaty bulging bicep. Biting down on it hard enough to shock yourself to waken enough and cry.

Jaemin’s nose buries behind your ear, licking at whatever he can reach. Hiding his voice by latching onto your neck. “So fucking sexy, you’re so fucking hot.”

He gets it, he more than gets it. Stilling to circle against your ass as he lets out a less than manly whine. The desperation rumbling from his chest lets you know he’s close, face crumpling behind you, doing his best to keep it a secret with his nose tucked into your hair.

His thrusts snap like quick jabs, sharp and pointed. Expertly fucking your ass without losing his pace, without caring if you even get off. Letting your head drop, Jaemin gives your scalp a break, slapping a firm grip on your shoulder to keep you in place. The impact forcing your face to drop forward, biting down on the bicep shifting under your chin. Thick meat of muscle fills your taste buds, laving at it pathetically to compress the wails trying to crack from your lungs.

Jaemin knows he doesn’t have to do it, he doesn’t owe you a damn thing. Reminding you to be grateful he’s even fucking your slutty ass, he jerks your neck back up, cracking in the process. Pushing your hips up with his length grinding into you. Fingers swoop down, blurring over your clit in a mean way just to make you cry more. “Show your loyal fans what it takes to make you cum.”

Fumbling to fist the bedding, you convulse, pussy clenching at nothing. Squirting all over your thighs, ruined pretty pink blanket, and the Alpha’s forearm continuing to vibrate pushing your orgasm over the edge.

Jaemin let’s out a cracked groan, having to slow down from the ass clamps around him. Thrashing against his arm making the pressure worse on his cock.

He sighs through a moan, cupping your bruised hip to pull out, cock landing with a wet slap where your butt perks and rounds out. Struggling to keep his eyes open as he groans filthily, the tip of his length prodding in and it of your hole to push his cum in. Letting the rest of it cover your ass with a creamy layer.

“There you go,” he sighs, kissing your temples. Licking away sweat that’s about to clump your eyelashes together more. “Such a good Omega.”

He eyes the teeth marks shining under a coat of drool left behind on his arm, softly dislodging your chin while massaging the back of your strained neck. “Hungry little puppy.”

He thrusts back in once more for good measure, making you squeal and hiss, his heavy hand pushing at your lower back to slide out with calm. Cum bubbling around his softening length as your rim pulses.

Jeno lets out an angry scoff, grabbing onto the back of your leg once Jaemin finally moves off. Grumbling something about how his friend took long enough.

“N-no! No more!” You cry, wailing, weakly trying to crawl away on your knees. Jeno tossing you onto your back like a rag doll after Jaemin emptied the life out of you.

“Shh, be good for Alpha.”

The last thing you hear before your eyes roll to the backs of your sockets. Lungs crushed under Jeno’s weight as he sinks deep inside your ass pushing the rest of Jaemin’s cum to pour out.

“Hey.” Jeno’s eyes light up above you, his face all fresh with floppy damp hair. Sporting a soft smile, patting a cool cloth on your forehead. “You’re awake. I think your heat actually broke.”

“Hmm?” Sitting up on your elbows, you see Jaemin sitting at the end of the bed, a shifty gaze roaming between you and the other Alpha.

“You feeling okay?” He asks, rubbing at the side of his neck, a nervous habit.

“Kind of sleepy.” You yawn, settling against two stacked pillows. Jeno continues to pamper you, apologizing for losing control with a look of concern.

“That was the point, Alpha.” You reassure with a wink, tracing the lines of his opened apologetic palm. “Should have the video up by tomorrow, after my editor cuts all the unsexy stuff.”

Jaemin clears his throat to interrupt, wishing Jeno would leave first so he could talk to you in private. It’s not as if his roommate should have any type of claim on you just because he was horny enough to pay for a monthly subscription.

“We should leave so you can rest.” He nods. “I have some errands to run tomorrow nearby, if you need anything..”

Jeno’s jaw pops open, fixing his friend with an offended look. The other proceeding to ignore him with a shrug.

“Thank you Alp—….Jaemin..”

“Of course.” He smiles politely, the demon that had just wrecked your ass long disappeared by now. “Let’s get going Jeno.”

Jeno follows after Jaemin, trudging to exit with slumped shoulders, weighed down by an impending sensation of regret. Tilting his head side to side annoyed the more he thought about it.

“Be right back!” He spins, jogging the short distance back to your bedroom to find you still blissfully laid in place ready to fall asleep again.

“Hey.” He smiles brightly, blinking to keep his eyes as open as possible despite the way his cheeks ache from stretching his lips so wide.

“Jeno? Did you forget something?”

The Alpha steps back inside, sinking your bed in where he sits and pulls out his phone. “Yeah, your phone number.”

“Ahh..” covering your face, you can’t resist the urge to squeal. The overly eager Alpha unleashing shyness and excitement in your chest. “So cheesy!”

“I should’ve been cooler, right?” He wonders, teeth chattering with a nervous laugh. “Strolled in like— what’re you doing this weekend? Other than me?”

“Jeno?” Jaemin pokes his head past your door, having followed after him and listened to this embarrassing back and forth long enough. “Let’s go. Now. Haechan and Renjun have been waiting for us at the restaurant.”

“Oh yeah yeah, sorry.” Jeno leans over, stealing a kiss on your forehead as if his mouth hadn’t just slathered the entirety of your body in sucks and bites. “Get some rest.”

Jaemin nods, staying behind as his friend walks out. “Can I text you still?”

“Huh?” You question sleepily, confused as to why he’d ask. “Of course.. Alpha.”

Jaemin smiles, ducking his chin to hide the blush seeping through his cheeks. “Maybe we can hang out? next Saturday?”

“Yeah, maybe.”

a/n: Jeno favoritism always😭

ps- kinda proofed/kinda not🥹💙

4K notes · View notes

forevamark · 2 years

Text

looking for attention (l.jn)

It’s finally here!

After many hours of not being able to stop adding and deleting parts of this fic, I decided on a final version! I hope it was thoroughly worth the wait!

Pairing: Jeno ft the ‘00 line dreamies x fem! reader insert

Tags: gamer idol au, secret girlfriend reader, slice of life, needy reader, jeno is a nerdy possessive hard head, substantial amount of plot leading up to the nasty, dialogue heavy, lowkey the ‘00 line wants you so bad, jeno knows everyone wants you so bad, y’all can look but not touch vibes, camera voyeurism,

Intended for 18+ readers, minors do not interact.

Warnings: cursing/swearing, teasing, voyeurism, exhibitionism, oral male receiving, masturbation, phone sex, masturbation in public, unprotected sex (wrap it up ya’ll!), breeding kink, mentions of potential five way, multiple partners (not directly), possessive domination, spit kink, thigh riding, spanking, slight choking, degradation, reader is a simpy subby sub sub, dumbification/bimbo kink, mentions of referring to reader as ‘pet’/’kitten’, ‘slut’ etc.

Word Count: ~7.95k words

Summary: Between Jeno being an idol and you being a current nursing school student, it’s hard to find time to be there for each other and actually feel like you two are dating. So when Jeno makes time to spend a whole day with you but actually spends the whole time playing with the boys online instead of helping you study for your exam, you decide it’s time to play some games of your own.

any and all feedback is appreciated! Not fully proofread sorry!

“Are you kidding me? Hyuck open your fucking eyes!” Jeno screamed at his screen while throwing his hands in the air, “I’m tired of us not moving on because of you!”

It’s been three hours since you have arrived at Jeno’s apartment. You’ve been insisting on spending more quality time with him and he finally promised to put more effort in by agreeing to spend the day with you.

—

Maybe you should have seen it coming when Jeno insisted on you bringing your class materials for your upcoming exam, promising that he will help you study. When he opened the door you were expected to be bombarded with warm hugs and maybe even some cuddles and suggestions to bake cookies. Would it be so presumptuous to even be looking forward to savagely ravished in some long awaited sexy time? The thought of having uninterrupted alone time with Jeno bounced around your mind as you anticipatingly waited for him to answer the door.

However much to your chagrin, you were begrudgingly and briefly greeted with a breathy irritated Jeno that barely made eye contact before running back to the room shouting, “I swear I’m here! I’m here! Just had to open the door for y/n! I’m back! I’m back!” leaving you confused and rooted to the welcome mat of his front door.

Sighing, you slowly removed your shoes and moved towards his kitchen to grab some water and place your belongings on his table. Making your way to Jeno’s room, the volume of his excited shouting elevated and as you rounded the corner you saw him slouched over staring at the screen with intent eyes and hands frantically moving.

“Hey babe,” you knock while leaning against his desk, his eyes not meeting yours once again.

“Just go towards the back Jaem that way they won’t see you,” he called out adjusting his mic.

“Babe,” you raised your voice.

“No Hyuck, stay there, we need you later,” he replied while checking his second monitor briefly then shooting you a quick smile before clicking repeatedly, “hey babe sorry I’ll be done with this game soon, one sec.”

“Will you really be done soon? It’s fine if it won't just let me know so I’m not just waiting around.”

“Yeah, yeah swear,” he nodded while playing.

You made your way back to the table in the living room and placed all your textbooks down and opened up your laptop to finish a lecture that you needed to finish taking notes on.

Fifteen minutes passed and your feet were tucked under your body in the seat and highlighters were scattered around. As you cracked your knuckles closing the lecture video tab, Jeno walked out of his room shirtless, sporting a pair of gray sweatpants and his gaming headset on, making his way to the fridge.

Jeno was a dream. Only he could look so insanely attractive while having the personality of the biggest nerd you’ve ever encountered. When you two first met, he was just a baby face with the biggest mop of hair that was always cautious with his actions. He was the most respectful gentleman at the ripe age of 14, showing up to your front doorstep, stumbling over his words to your dad with a grandiose bouquet of roses asking for permission to officially court you. Yes, court you. Your parents loved Jeno; over time he proved his loyalty, respect, and care that he would have towards you. When he joined the company to pursue his dreams of being an idol, there wasn’t a night that he would miss sending you goodnight voice memos filled with words of affirmations or order the very same set of flowers to your doorstep on every month-anniversary. He was a hopeless romantic sweetheart, a cutie with a heart of chivalry.

But of course your parents had no idea to what your relationship was like when you two were alone, from losing your virginity with Jeno after your highschool prom, or him sending you breathy lewd videos of himself in response to photos you would send him in the middle of his busy training days before concerts and comebacks. You and Jeno were always willing to put in the time for one another, that is until as of lately…

“Let’s fucking go!” he hollered while rummaging through the shelves to find a carton of banana milk and drinking it, “can’t believe we made it out of there, Hyuck fucking sucks at stealth missions, so it must have been a miracle for them to not see him,” he laughs while heading towards you.

Jeno flicked his hair to the side and tucked a hand into his pocket making his arms slightly flex, effortlessly gorgeous as always. Long gone were his familiar long black locks that seemed to always fall right over his eyebrows from his childhood days. Jeno’s grown into his face for sure; his hair no longer midnight but reminiscent of it, that deep midnight blue with buzzed sides, cheeks high and chin angular. But no matter how much he’s changed, that precious eye smile will forever remain.

Straightening your back you leaned forward awaiting him to finally sit with you, lips sitting prettily puckered awaiting your overdue kiss. Excitement erupts and you can barely sit still as you think how you will escalate this further today. A long list of positions and roleplay fill your head excitingly as you watch him stride closer. It has been a while since you two have been able to have a whole day to yourselves. However Jeno wasn’t nearly on the same page as he walked straight past and into the pantry to take out a bag of chips and jog back into the room. Disappointment -and a bit of sexual frustration- sets in as you hear a faint, “hell yeah I’m down for another round lemme log back in really quick!”

You have got to be kidding me.

Rolling your eyes, you open your laptop back up and move on to the next video. An excruciatingly long hour and half passed by and the droning, monotone voice of your professor proved to make you both tired and relentlessly bored. How can someone talk about phlebotomy so passionately for hours on end? Jeno’s cheers of wins and screeches of losses the whole time as you tried to concentrate on your professor’s stale voice deemed studying here was harder than you thought. Detangling your limbs from the chair, you walked towards his voice and heavy clacking.

“Nono, you said almost done like two hours ago,” you frowned while at the frame of his door.

He tore his eyes away from the screen finally noticing your sad demeanor, “I’m sorry baby we are almost done with this round, promise.”

You could hear the roar of jester he got from the boys on the other end of his call. A round of kissy sounds were coupled with a few mentions of him going ‘soft’ or ‘whipped’. “shut up guys, you guys are just jealous you’re single.”

You rolled your eyes and walked towards him, “you told me you would make time for me today! How is this quality time Nono?”

“Yeah Nono? If this is quality time with y/n invite us over next time!” You heard Jaemin from the other end of his headphones.

“Shut up please, you incels!” Jeno muttered while muting his mic, removing his headphones to his neck, and resting his hands on your hips as you stood between his knees, “Baby, I’m so sorry, I swear we are almost done, if you want you can lay on my bed as you go through your flashcards?”

“I don’t want to study by myself anymore! You told me quality time and you would help me study! If I wanted to study alone I would have just stayed home…” you whined with your arms crossed.

“Okay,” Jeno rested his head into your stomach in an attempt to forgive him with his cuteness, “What about you lay on my bed behind me, and I’ll read out the flashcards and you can answer. That way I can help you study and I can finish this game with the boys?”

“I don’t want you to keep playing with the boys though… I want you to pay attention to me! I want your attention,” you said while stomping your foot for emphasis hoping he could hear the neediness in your infliction.

“Jeno! I don’t care how much your ass is in trouble with y/n! Get the fuck back in here I can’t keep covering for you!” Hyuck interjected while everyone else agreed to join in on the insults.

“One more sec!” he said into the mic before muting again, “last offer baby, I said I’m sorry, I’ll help you study and when we finish, then you’ll have my undivided attention.”

After a few seconds of looking into his puppy dog eyes and pouty lip you reluctantly agreed and retreated to the kitchen to gather your flashcards and study questions. Jeno cheered, turning in his chair to slot his headphones back on and situate his mic.

“Yo I’m sorry I’m sorry! I’m here, I’m just going to help y/n study while we finish out this round.”

“Dude you cannot be multitasking right now! We are so close to reaching the end game!” Renjun argued.

“We have never gotten this far, and I’m not wasting another two hours on trying to get here again so you better be focused,” Hyuck scolded.

“I swear I’m paying attention,” he nodded as you handed him the fat stack of decorated index cards. Jeno lightly giggled and smirked at you, “did you really decorate your nursing flashcards with stickers to make them all cutesy?”

“Yes?” you retorted, “and what about it?” as you situated yourself by laying on your back and your legs in the air.

“Because y/n” he turned in his chair to look at you trying not to linger his eyes on your bare legs in the air. He held one particular card up fully decorated, glittered, and written in smooth calligraphy reading, ‘testicular cancer’.

“I associate the decoration with the terms! It’s like a studying technique babe!” you sat up defending yourself.

“How did you associate testicular cancer with hello kitty and ice cream stickers?” he challenged.

Just as you were about to answer, Renjun’s voice filled the room, “Jeno! What did we just say? We almost lost Jaemin because you aren’t paying attention!”

Other voices chastised Jeno pulling him back to his computer pressing a few buttons and clicking profusely.

“Okay sorry again, I healed everyone, are we all good now?” he looked between his screens checking on everyone.

“We would have been better if you weren’t so busy talking about hello kitty and cancer? Which hello? Is not something to joke about!” Hyuck pressed.

“Actually it’s hello kitty, ice cream, and testicular cancer, Hyuck,” you chimed in from behind, “Okay Nono, I’m ready for my first question.”

“Okay…” after a couple more clicks he picked up the first card, “How do you use an Incentive Spirometer?”

“Oh that’s an easy one, first you have the patient sit up straight.”

“Ugh, so boring…can you at least mute yourself for now?” Jaemin sighed on the other end of the line.

Ignoring his remarks you continued, “then you have the patient exhale completely, third have the patient place their lips on the mouthpiece-”

“I know where I’d like to have your lips,” Jeno instinctively responded without thinking with a clear smirk on his lips. A burst of laughter erupted from his friends as well as your boyfriend as you sat there unimpressed.

“Dude you’re so gross,” Renjun muttered.

Meanwhile Hyuck must have been into it as he responded, “I second that.” Whereas Jaemin just laughed with a simple, “haha, I agree.”

“Watch it you two,” Jeno stoically grumbled while continuing to slam his fingers onto the keyboard.

“This is serious stuff guys! I need to pass my NCLEX next week.”

“Then why bother Jeno while he plays! Don't worry y/n we will return your precious Nono after we are done, okay? Just like your little exam is important to you, this is severely important to us,” Hyuck seriously tried to barter while the others chuckled.

“I don’t know how me having the opportunity to save lives is even comparable to your silly little games…”

The boys feigned hurt with a chorus of dramatic gasps.

“This ‘silly little game’ is everything,” Hyuck said.

Jaemin joined in, “we are also saving lives! We are fighting the bad guys!”

“Are you really trying to compare NPCs to real human beings?” you bit back.

“Hey, humans are humans babe,” Jeno chuckled.

“Those aren’t even humans!” You shouted from over his shoulder pointing at the screen.

“Look y/n, Hyuck is indeed…err… otherworldly looking, but alas he is a human,” Renjun innocently said.

“Hey! Just for that I’m not healing you!”

“Baby we didn’t even get through one question,” you turned towards Jeno.

“Babe, maybe if you played games you would understand why we are so into this,” he pried.

“I don’t have time for games when I’m busy studying! Studying to try and get a job by the way! To get a job so we can get married and start a family! Ya know? To provide for us and our future, maybe?” you said while clutching the bottom of your shirt, anger fueling you.

“Woah there.”

“Yooo…”

“Yikes Jeno. Made mama bear mad.”

“Babe, chill out, I’m just joking. But honestly it wouldn’t kill you if you just took a break every now and then. Games are a great stress relief for me, maybe I should get you hooked on a game so you can be occupied while I’m online,” he said matter of factly.

“Again! What part of quality time do you not understand!” you threw your arms up to fall backwards onto his bed.

“Yo! Nice shot Jaem!”

It’s good to know your boyfriend will always be listening to you!!

Frustrated -both literally and sexually- you stomped your way out of the room and back into the kitchen making it a point to slam his door.

“Almost done babe, I swear!”

—

You lightly hummed along to the music playing in your ears as you stood yet again in Jeno’s kitchen, taking the liberty of washing his dishes that have been left in the sink for far too long. The boys have had a heavy and strict schedule everyday so it should be no surprise that he barely has time to take care of himself. He just flew in last week from Japan, doing some promotion for their Japanese comeback. His luggages were still left untouched by the front door, he was probably too tired to even unpack his things. His passport and neck pillow sat on top of the bags and you decided to crack it open and put some of his things away. After pressing the button to turn on the washing machine full of his dirty clothes from the trip, you decide to make some dinner for your hard working boyfriend.

You stirred a pot slowly as you watched a fancam of Jeno’s latest performance. Maybe it was the steam from the soup you were making clouding your judgment, or it was the way Jeno looked way more buff than the last promotion, or was it his new dark blue hair with that sexy line cut into the sides? Whatever it was, it definitely distracted you enough to accidentally slice your finger a bit and unknowingly notice the pot about to boil over next to you. Stringing out a list of profanities and quickly moving to remove the pot and tend to your hand, the video of Jeno continued to play. His body took up the whole frame, as the cameraman decided to do a full head to toe of him as he stood catching his breath and sending a smolder into the lens. Time seemed to still as he licked his lips, and grabbed at his pants with a boyish smile, nonetheless making you and the fans go wild. The camera pans to the crowd, a few banners filled with the Dreamie’s faces, and your boyfriend’s name etched among the sea of green light sticks. He looked so good, the memories of that night filled your mind as you stood watching the screen go black and the timer asking if you wanted the next video or to play again.

–

Jeno called you the moment he got back to his hotel room. He was exhausted and missing you, a very deadly combo. He didn’t even get to make it to the shower, flopping onto the couch facing the window looking out into the night city skyline.

“Hey princess,” he said as he saw your face come into view.

“Oh hey baby!” you giggled out loud, there was loud music playing in the background accompanied by the strobing neon lights. Your cohort friends convinced you to come out after your exam to celebrate. You did try to get out of it, considering Jeno was going to be performing and you wanted to watch it live, but how could you explain the absolute significance to your friends? They would constantly tease you about the ‘boyfriend material’ lock screen you had of Jeno, and the albums you had lined up in your room, deeming you a delusional fan- little did they know…

“Did you watch my performance?” Jeno asked, lifting the phone up higher as if it would make it seem like you’re there with him.

“What did you say?” you screamed over the song in the background, “hold on let me go outside!”

“y/n! Let’s take a shot!” you heard a voice from behind you, one of your good friends Jennie said while haphazardly waving at you to come.

“One sec!” you made your way outside the club and leaned against the side of the building away from the crowds and cars finally getting some peace and privacy. You were very very drunk, probably more than you wanted to be without Jeno there, but you had to admit, it felt like a weight was off your shoulders. You were fucking proud of yourself! First exam of the semester and you did good!

“y/n,” Jeno’s eyes widened as he took in what he was seeing. You too lifted your phone screen higher letting him see your full frame come into view, “Fuck, I love that dress on you so much.”

“I know!” you whined running your hands down your body over the black fitted fabric, “I remembered you liked this one so I wore it tonight. Kinda makes it feel like you’re here too.”

“You look…” Jeno couldn’t even get the words out. His eyes glued to the woman on his screen, looking at him with innocent wide eyes that had big lashes fluttering at him, lips rouged and pouted, and a bountiful set of breasts being teased by your manicured fingers.

“Ugh baby I miss you so much…” you hummed hitting just the right spot over one of your hardened nubs, “can you come back already?”

“Baby I come back in a few days then I have you all to myself. Just you and me,” he whispered, completely entranced as he watched your hands move farther and farther down. He didn’t even notice the way his hands were already unconsciously palming over himself awaiting your next move.

“You know if you were here,” he slurred while looking past the camera and into the distance, “I wouldn’t have to be doing this myself.” Before Jeno could even respond you let out a lusty moan feeling your fingers enter yourself with ease with a leg propped up against the bricked wall.

“Oh my god,” Jeno incredulously whispered, completely bewildered by what he was witnessing. He seemed to finally snap out of it when you looked back to him asking him if he was going to join you. He hurriedly took off his pants and stuffed his shirt into his mouth as he gave in and tugged at himself, “I need this. I need you. So bad. Lemme see you baby, please.”

You took a quick look around, no one was around in this area as the party kept going around the corner at the front of the building. Deeming the coast clear you propped your phone on the ground at an angle for Jeno could see your full silhouette take up the screen. A couple of parked cars were behind you in the alley and you leaned against one, arms supporting your weight as you leaned down letting your dress ride up, exposing your ass completely.

“Fuck baby. Open up more for me,” Jeno threw his head back, sliding his hand faster and faster against himself, “I can see how wet you are, dripping all over your fingers. What if someone were to see you? Bent over a stranger's car, fingering yourself on the phone to your famous boyfriend. Dumb little kitty can’t wait for me to get home huh?”

Jeno’s words egged you on farther, now sliding down the car due to your legs slowly giving out.

“Quiet down slut I can hear you from here, don’t want someone to see my kitten fucking herself outside all alone. Don’t want them to get the wrong idea,” he seethed but you both knew deep down you liked the idea of being so close to being caught.

“Please Nono, I’m so close…” you howled suddenly seeing stars as your orgasm approached. You could hear some voices get louder as they were approaching the corner of the building you were at, about to be caught.

“Y/n!” Jeno screamed releasing himself all over his abdomen, breathing labored as he continued to watch you fuck yourself against the car, “baby no,” he sternly said.

You halted your movements knowing exactly what that meant. You collected yourself and yanked your dress down before hobbling back in your heels to pick up the phone, “what’s wrong my love?” you furrowed your eyes.

“You’re not cumming without me, and you're definitely not cumming outside where everyone gets a free show,” he indignantly said.

“But Nono you got to!”

“I am under a lot of stress right now,” he sighed while releasing the shirt from his mouth allowing it to puddle into the mess on his stomach, “Plus, I’m alone, for your eyes only love,” he cheekily smirked with a wink, “Now get your ass back inside, text me when you get home, stay safe.”

–

That was the last time you and Jeno actually got it on as the kids would say. In hindsight, three days wasn’t that long, but you haven’t had a true Jeno induced orgasm in a couple weeks! A couple weeks! And here he is, finally alone with you insisting to play video games with his bandmates that are with him every other waking hour of the day. The paused image of Jeno during his performance taunting you with that cocky smug smile.

Fuck this, if Jeno wants to play games then…

Let's play.

–

“Dude we are doing so well, I can’t believe it. At this point we should probably start streaming this shit!” you hear Jeno say as you walk back into his room.

“If we make it out, let’s do it all again and stream it!” Hyuck replies. If Jeno knew you were back in the room, he didn’t make any sign of acknowledgement this time.

Let’s change that.

You huff loudly as you dramatically waltz around his room, pretending to look at things carefully as if it was your first time there. Jeno sneaks a look over as you fling the doors of his closet open before stepping inside, fingers dancing over each hanging shirt. You smile as some remind you of memories of dates or performances and even ones you’ve stole borrowed in the past. Finally finding the shirt he wore from the latest performance, you tugged at the end of your shirt and lifted it, your pants following after leaving you in the matching dark green set you wanted to surprise your boyfriend with.

“Bro how can you not see-” Jeno chokes on his own spit as you noticed your movement and was shocked to see your full ass on display.

“Did I not see what?” The boys questioned.

Good he fell for the first trap.

“Uh, I don’t know, sorry.” he shook his head looking back at the screen but still constantly watching you from the side, suddenly interested in your actions. You took the shirt off of the hanger and slowly shimmied it on, it ending just under your cheeks. Jeno swallowed hard as he tried to focus on the game in front of him, as strategy was crucial in this next part.

You turned back into his room and made your way to his dresser eyeing each chain and sets of rings that were neatly lined up by color and finger placement. Turning to look back at Jeno, his eyes met yours questioningly as you simply smiled back while eyeing his frantic hands on his custom built keyboard.

Those fingers. Those veins. Those hands.

You picked a simple silver chain necklace with a cross on it and a layered gold set of chains, as well as 6 various matching rings then made your way to him. Holding up the chains and looking at him, studying what would look best on him now.

Jeno smiled at you, “Nice shirt. What are you doing with my jewelry?”

“Oh don’t mind me,” you mumbled while comparing the two, “just wondering which one would look best while swinging above me later.”

Jeno’s smile dropped along with his jaw as he scrambled to mute the mic before the boys could comment on what they just heard.

“B-Baby, you can’t be doing that right now!”

Ignoring him you hovered the silver one above your leaned back head and swayed it back and forth, “I think I’m going to go with this one.” Before he could respond, you swung a leg over him and onto his lap to secure the silver around his neck. The cross sat heavy on his bare chest, “so pretty.” you cheered while placing a quick peck on his forehead then hopping off- of course not without a cheeky dip of your hips into his crotch making him shudder.

“What do you think you’re playing at, kitten?” he stares finally catching up.

“Just doing what you told me,” you innocently said while sinking to your knees, “just finally getting into some games of my own. Ya know, like you said,” you palmed over his now growing erection, “this way you can keep playing, and so can I.” Jeno sat starstruck for a couple seconds, caught off guard by how much control you’ve taken in the matter of minutes. He was genuinely contemplating on just shutting down his computer and texting the guys that his power went out unexpectedly, but they’d never let him hear the end of it for that. You noticed his inner turmoil, “I said keep playing Nono.”

That seemed to do the trick, or maybe it was the screaming profanities from Jaemin that snapped Jeno out of it and tucked you, and his legs, back under his desk and unmuted his mic.

“Jeno I’m getting really tired of you not getting your head in the game right now,” Renjun muttered.

“Oh he’s definitely getting his head in the game,” you whispered before pulling down his underwear and sweatpants then pulling his cock out before you. Jeno let out a sigh from both situations and decided to appease his friends by catching back up and trying to focus.

This proved to be harder than any dance practice because he couldn’t focus on anything. Every time he tried to aim at an enemy you seemed to swallow his cock all the way down till it hit the back of your throat. Every time he tried to close his eyes just for a second and thrust back into your warm mouth, he got hit and took damage. In other words, he couldn’t find it in him to fully enjoy either action he was partaking in.

“Lee. Jeno. What the fuck!” Haechan raged, “Did you seriously just die? Right now? Before the final round? I’m going to kill you myself with my own hands next time I see you!” Jeno couldn’t even seem to care because he was too busy stifling his moans by biting his lip as you twisted your hand over and over, running your tongue over his tip showing him just how much spit and precum could pool in your mouth before it spilled out of your lips as you shoved him back in. How could he even care about this stupid game when you sat before him giving him the best head he’s had? Had you known all along that this is his biggest fantasy yet?

“Jeno! Answer me! What the fuck has you so preoccupied right now?” Hyuck turned his camera on, face coming into view on the screen, “Come on. Come out here and face us, you asshole.” Surely enough a pissed looking Renjun and Jaemin came into the discord call, each in their own respective set up, camera propped from either side or above angles. Jeno couldn’t bring himself to press the camera button, not with him splayed out in his chair with his hands tangled in your hair pushing you further and further.

“Answer them.” you demanded while looking up at him with those devilish eyes. He shook his head, too lost in the pleasure to even respond, only panting.

“Dude is something actually wrong or are you again not paying attention? Did this mean nothing to you?” Renjun questioned next.

“N-No it’s not that,” Jeno barely got out as you massaged his balls tenderly while sucking hard on his tip.

“Is something wrong with you? Have you had any symptoms since we got back from Japan?” Jaemin tried to sympathize lightly, “You sound terrible man. I can hear your breathing. Had to reconnect my set like three times because I couldn’t tell if that was one of you guys or my audio output.”

“Uhm…Fuck…I uh…ahh!” Jeno was experiencing such immense waves of pleasure he didn’t even care if they knew at this point.

“For fucks sake Jen!” Hyuck stood with his hands gripping his desk, “If you’re going to be fucking y/n while on the call with us at least let us watch!” Renjun and Jaemin’s eyes became the size of rockets upon hearing Hyuck’s outburst.

“Wait- Jeno are you…?” Renjun started yet unable to finish his thought.

“Oh my god are you fucking y/n right now Jeno?” Jaemin asked incredulously.

“Of course he is, dummies. Why do you think he kept messing up and breathing all heavy? We’ve shared rooms together you y/n teaser, we know what your moans sound like!” said Hyuck.

“And so what if I am getting blown right now?” Jeno finally breathed out while running a finger down the side of your chin scooping up globs of precum before shoving it back in your mouth, “not like I’d ever let you incels watch my girl anyways.” You rolled your eyes. Jeno was always so possessive over you. Something about never having any constants after becoming an idol except you- type of romantic but kinda terretorial reasoning.

“Why not baby?” you decided to speak up enough to let them hear you now that the cat’s finally out of the bag. You let go of Jeno’s cock with a plop then stood up in front of him, “You know I’ve always had the fantasy of having a third…” you started then sat on his naked lap, “maybe even a fourth…” your lips trailed up his stilled neck before meeting his lips in front of the microphone whispering, “or I don’t know… maybe even a fifth.”

“Guys we don’t need to force them into doing anything Jeno’s not comfortable with,” Renjun awkwardly yet excitedly laughed.

“You know I don’t want to share you.” Jeno adamantly said while staring you down intently, “I don’t share what’s mine.”

“Well, in a way you’re not sharing me…”

You could see the options flipping in Jeno’s brain. The idea of his friends lusting over you outwardly- because he already knew they did secretly- would drive him insane. He didn’t like the aforementioned fantasies you’ve had of multiple partners- his bandmates at that- to turn you on. But on the other hand, he couldn’t shake the fact that his dick twitched at the thought of him staking his claim on you primitively in front of the very men that yearned over you. As he thought it over more, it turned him on immensely at the scenario of showing off just how trained and fixated you were for him and only ever will be, him. And you were right, he wouldn’t necessarily be sharing you, he would merely be reminding his fellow 00 liners just how much you really were his. That no matter how much you thought of this very scene, it would be him making you reach the point of ecstasy.

“He won’t do it guys, he’s too much of a-” Hyuck started but was cut off by the sudden press of a button and a small chime that signaled Jeno’s camera being turned on.

“Holy…”

“Shit.”

There you sat, perched on Jeno’s naked thigh, riding with your head thrown back, hair swaying without a care in the world, with Jeno’s hand firmly pulling your ass forward and backward, as he leaned all the way back in his gaming chair, other hand resting on your thighs.

“Faster.” Jeno commanded while staring at the video output with eagle eyes.

“Yes Jeno,” you moaned loudly, moving your hands to hold onto his shoulder for support.

“Honestly Jen I thought of this fantasy about a thousand times-” Hyuck muttered while palming himself, eyes not leaving the sight of your clit furiously hitting Jeno’s leg.

“Baby, I don’t want to hear them if we’re going to be doing this. Louder. Now.” Jeno commanded, to which you obliged immediately. Stings of nothingness flowing out of your mouth like maple syrup. “Make them want it baby, I know you can sing so well for me, let us hear you.” Jeno stared into the camera and placed the headset on you, adjusting the mic so it would pick up even the faintest of whimpers and clicked around on his screen to adjust the audio to his speakers.

“Holy…I can hear her pussy,” Jaemin wondered aloud.

“C-can we see how wet you are? Please” Renjun quietly asked with flushed cheeks.

“Of course!” You happily bounded about to grab the camera, but Jeno stopped your actions with a simple raise of a hand, taking the very same and reaching between you both to shove three fingers inside you making you arch your back into a fold upon entering and became mewling at the newfound pleasure that the curl and pounding his fingers did to you. Right as you were about to see stars he pulled his fingers out and held them close to the camera for the others to see. Your slick is thick and aromatic, the whole room began to smell the very same, and he spread his fingers to show the sheer amount of wetness Jeno can cause.

“Jeno, I’m sorry but not sorry in advance,” and soon enough Hyuck stood up to remove his shorts and free his cock, looking down once to spit on it to help aid his hand in the fucking its about to receive.

“Me too,” Renjun fumbled, knocking down his water bottle that was on the table and quickly removing his shirt and pants. His hands frantically searched for his lotion and you giggled taking a look back and see him run around his room before pumping three squirts into his hand and not even bothering to walk back to the screen just stand there and throw his head back in ecstasy.

Jaemin on the other hand sat very lackadaisical in his chair simply smirking and biting his lip. His arms sat crossed over his abdomen with deep uninterrupted attention as if he himself was in the room sitting behind you, a predator stalking its prey.

“Not doing it for you Jaem? Thought you’re into this stuff?” Jeno mused.

“I’m more of a sit back and watch, play later type of guy, don’t worry, I’m enjoying where this is going.”

“Suit yourself Jae,” you sighed dreamily. You turned to look at your boyfriend who looked a lot more comfortable than you would have initially thought, “baby can you please fuck me now?”

“I don’t know about that kitten,” he tutted, “haven’t been very much of a good pet for me lately.” Jeno picked you up to turn you towards the camera to face the reflective image of yourself next to the fucked out faces of your friends. He pulled you backwards by the neck holding you in place as he played with your pussy in front of them, completely splayed out on top of him, your legs over his, feet hooked under his calves. Jeno took two fingers into his mouth taking his time savoring the unique and beautiful taste of you on his tongue.

You always imagined in this scenario you’d be focused on watching the others, the thought of multiple men gathered in hunger over your body, ready to worship every inch of you just for the chance to be picked worthy to feel you. But you kept forgetting the rest of the dreamies were even there, enamored with the way that time after time Jeno will prove to you that he, and only him, knows your body inside and out. He knows what makes you twitch in pleasure and what will make you cry in the best pain.

His fingers grazed your breasts, tugging and pinching at each nipple with equal attention. Palms gliding over your curves as he relishes in the moment as it's been weeks and months of yearning he’s felt while apart. Your aching core begs for attention and you attempt to squeeze your legs together to hopefully gain some type of friction but Jeno denies by smacking your thighs each time as a reminder of who is in charge of making you both reach the brink of euphoria tonight.

“Don’t be a brat in front of our guests,” he muttered while nibbling on your ear, “I taught you better than that.”

“Yes sir.”

“Of course you have a sir kink y/n,” Renjun smiles lazily. He found his way to his bed, reclined himself against the headboard watching from a distance, “we all called it.”

“Only for my Nono,” you smiled as you leaned up and kissed him for the first time. He let you feast over him, he knew you had to get it out messily. After he humored you his tongue fought back with dominance stunning you in the moment. He takes the chance to sneak his fingers into you, sliding them in and out while his other hand rapidly circling over, stimulating your clit. The pleasure began to build and you chanted his name over and over, hand finding their way behind yourself into his hair to over your breasts, you didn’t really know you just had to grab onto something as you reach your first orgasm.

“You like that? You like being a slut? You like parading yourself around here all stuck up but all you really want is a cock to shut you up huh? That’s right my little cock slut huh?” A symphony of moans were echoing all around the room. Jeno in your ear, your screams not forming coherent words, the rest of the boys agreeing in Jeno’s degradation, affirming how much of slut you are over the speakers.

“Answer him slut.” Hyuck ordered, “Tell all of us how much you want to get railed. Tell him how you want to be stuffed to the brim.”

“I-I do! I want it all! I admit it! I want all of you, any of you, I just need to be filled please!” Tears shot out of your eyes and Jeno lifted you and slammed your frame onto his cock.

“Too much! You’re too big Nono!” Your body was on fire, and although you were on top, Jeno was indeed in control as his hips powerfully snapped up to meet yours to the point you were sure there were going to be bruises tomorrow. He rose to his feet, easily holding you up, and his ring cladded hands gripped firmly into your fleshy sides. Your toes grazed the floor, as you held your upper weight on the desk, breasts heavy and hands clammy. Jeno pounded into you from behind, a hand coming down every so often to land red splotches on your right butt cheek then rubbing it to soothe the pain. You thanked him each time his hand collided with your skin, thanking him for the immense pleasure that was well worth the wait.

“How many more do you guys think she deserves?” Jeno finally addresses his friends who were rubbing their cocks raw at the live action porn in front of them- including Jaemin who has now joined in.

“At least ten.”

“She’s been pretty good, Jeno maybe just five more.”

“Nah, our cock slut here made us lose our game after hours of hard work!” Jaemin grunted while stroking his erection slowly but with a tight fist, “If it were up to me, I’d say twenty.”

“Heard that baby?” Jeno says while pounding into you mercilessly and moves the hair out of your face, “Twenty more it is.” Jeno is ruthless on his punishment, especially with the boys egging him on, chiming in to spank you harder or to start over when you forget to count a number aloud. By the time you hit an official twenty, you orgasmed again. He ignores your cries for a break and continues to demolish your body in any way he pleases, he knows your body well, he knows when you’re at your threshold.

“My bad love,” Jeno slows, pulling out momentarily, “I forgot you wanted to see this chain swing back and forth, let me fix that.” He pulls you again like a limp ragdoll, high off your previous orgasms and onto his bed. You have a moment to breathe as he walks back to the computer to detach his camera and slowly film his way up your body. He zooms into the sight of your creamed pussy, rubbed red raw at the hour of abuse it just endured, drowning in attention and slick. Your breasts are riddled with a palette of reds, blues, and purples, forming a jagged letter ‘J’ in between the valley, once again making a show of marking his territory.

“Princess, think you can handle one more?” Jeno asked while raising the camera to have your tear stained face come into view.

“Anything for you sir.”

Jeno takes no time to thrust back in, bottoming out before rutting back in with long, hard, deep strokes. You’re body is on overdrive now, not used to the constant orgasms due to the lack of action you’ve not been receiving. Leaving you not able to form words only sounds and muttering each of the boys’ names. Jeno continued to ram into you with force and vigor, asking questions of, “who owns this pussy?” and “Who makes you feel like this?” “Are you ever going to mess with me while I play again baby?”

“Jeno…can’t… hold longer,”

“A little more baby,”

“Ah shit!” Hyuck finally screams as he paints his abdomen white with cum dripping down.

“Just like that baby!” Renjun also hollers while watching his cum shoot upwards, his body limply breathing on his bed, completely spent.

“You can do it y/n,” Jaemin encourages with half lidded eyes.

“Come on baby, you’re going to make four grown men fall to their knees cumming, I need you there too baby,” Jeno whispers, his thrusts sloppier and the fastest yet, chasing his high. He’s so out of it he starts rambling, “Such a good kitten for me. Always wants my cock no matter what. I’m going knot you baby. Going to cum in this little pussy so hard that you’re going to get nice and round with my babies soon. You’d like that wouldn’t you kitten? I don’t know why you needed to sneak attack me baby all you had to do was ask I would give it to you any time you know this…”

You cut Jeno off with one line that sets him off, “All I’ll ever want is your attention, Nono.” And like that he lets out a deep moan and with a final thrust you feel him cum inside you, and not long after you join him with another string of chants of his name thanking him. Not letting any of him slip out of you, he tosses the camera to the side. Hyuck and Renjun dozing off from their post nut, and Jaemin still lazily stroking himself.

You shoot Jaemin a sideways glance and like he knew, he just says, “like I said, I like to watch. Thanks for the show you two, it will definitely keep me occupied for a couple more hours.” he suggested with a wink.

“Again, like Jaemin said earlier,” Hyuck clears his throat, “If this is quality time with y/n invite us over next time!”

Jeno shushes them all before clicking the end call button and turning himself back to you, “Now baby, I want some of that attention,” before pulling you into bed with him.

-----

And that’s it! Lmk of any and all feedback, I’m super open to it! If you want to be apart of any tag lists for future updates (may have a part 2 in mind for this whaaaat???) of this fic or any others message me to be added!

I blame Zoo Jeno- yall know which one i’m talking about ! the one that made everyone more feral than usual, the eboy look, dark blue hair with the cut sides and ugh too much for my brain rot tbh. Also the driving force to complete this piece was really Key’s song with Jeno- Villain. It reminded me of Zoo Jeno and I just had to complete my eboy/gamer/idolverse brainrot of Jeno.

till next time,

<3 eva

#nct fanfic #nct smut #nct jeno #nct fanfiction #nct jeno smut #jeno fanfic #jenosmut #jeno smut #jeno hard hours #jeno hard thoughts #jeno drabbles #jeno x reader #jeno x y/n #jeno x you #nct 00 line smut #nct dream smut #nct dream hard hours #nct dream hard thoughts #forevamark full fic

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luvyutae · 3 months

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THE SLEEPERS (00line ver.)

An 00line fan fiction

Summary; boys that just wanna have fun,boys that get into trouble, boys that had to pay the price. They regretted their stupidity that day and wished they never done it

Warnings/major trigger warning; Angst,major violence and harm,blood,crime,very triggering,Don’t like it? Please don’t read!

Side note:This series is very triggering and I advise you that if you get triggered easily,please do not read. Also the boys are half Italian in this fiction.(fictional purposes only)

{BOOK ONE} coming soon…

Preview;

WINTER,1993

Haechan sat across the table from the man who had battered and tortured and brutalized him nearly thirty years ago. Hyuck had imagined him to be in his sixties – he had seemed so old to Hyuck back then – but, in fact, he was in his late forties, less than a decade older than hyuck. His thinning hair was combed straight back, and his right hand, trembling and ash white, held a filtered cigarette. His left clutched a glass of ice water. He looked at Hyuck from behind a pair of black-rimmed glasses, his brown eyes moist, his nose running, the skin at its base red and flaky.

'I don't know what you want me to say,' he said in a voice devoid of the power it once held. 'I don't know where to start.'

In Hyucks memory, he was tall and muscular, arrogant and quick-tempered, eager to lash out at those under his command at the juvenile home where hyuck spent nine months when he was 16 years old. In reality, sitting now before him, he was frail and timid, thin beads of cold sweat forming at the top of his forehead.

'I need to keep my job,' he said, his voice a whining plea. 'I can't lose this one. If any of my bosses find out, if anybody finds out, I'm finished.'

Haechan wanted to stand up and grab him, reach past the coffee and the smoke and beat him until he bled. Instead, he sat there and remembered all that he had tried so hard, over so many years, to forget. Painful screams piercing silent nights. A leather belt against soft skin. Foul breath on the back of a neck. Loud laughter mixed with muffled tears.

Haechan had waited so long for this meeting, spent so much time and money searching for the man who held the answers to so many of hyucks questions. But now that he was here, Hyuck had nothing to say, nothing to ask. Hyuck half-listened as the man talked about two failed marriages and a bankrupt business, about how the evil he committed haunts him to this very day. The words seemed cowardly and empty and Hyuck felt no urge to address them.

The man and the group he was a part of had stained the future of four boys, damaged them beyond repair. Once, the sound of this man's very walk caused all of their movement to stop. His laugh, low and eerie, had signaled an onslaught of torment. Now, sitting across from him, watching his mouth move and his hands flutter, hyuck wished he had not been as afraid of him back then, that he’d somehow had the nerve and the courage to fight back. So many lives might have turned out so differently if he had.

'I didn't mean all those things,' he whispered, leaning closer toward haechan. 'None of us did.'

'I don't need you to be sorry,' Hyuck said. 'It doesn't do me any good.'

'I'm beggin' you,' he said, his voice breaking. 'Try to forgive me. Please. Try.'

'Learn to live with it,' Hyuck told him with an nonchalant tone, getting up from the table.

'I can't,' he said. 'Not anymore.'

'Then die with it,' Hyuck said, looking at him hard. 'Just like the rest of us.'

The pained look of surrender in his eyes made Hyuck throat tighter, easing the darkness of decades.

If only his friends had been there to see it.

***

#nct #nctdream #nct 00 line #renjun nct jaemin nct jeno nct haechan nct #nct127 #wayv #nct fanfiction #Kun #Johnny #Jungwoo #haechan #renjun #jeno #jaemin #nct series

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captain-joongz · 4 months

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fanfiction recommendations/my favourite reads in 2023

♤ in pursuit of wedded bliss by @fantasyescapes17

regency au, each members has his own story, but they're interconnected

choi seungcheol

◇ push it down (sooner or later it all comes out) by @dontflailmenow

camboy!seungcheol, ex's best friend!seungcheol, enemies to lovers

♧ down bad (so so bad) by @lovelyhan

idol!seungcheol x pet sitter!reader

☆ always only you by @honeyhotteoks

brother's best friend!seungcheol, friends to lovers

♤ caught in a trap by @cheolism

brother's best friend to lovers au

kim mingyu

☆ a sheep in wolf's clothing by @rubyreduji

virgin!mingyu x experienced reader

♤ creep by @smileysuh

serial killer!ghost!mingyu, touch starved!mingyu, halloween fic

ot8

◇ skz drabble by @leviackermanscleaningbuddy

a/b/o, cnc, primal play

♧ sharing = caring by @cbini

bf!chan sharing you

☆ camcorder by @tasteracha

bf!minho x reader x chan, a little pervy chan

♤ five for five by @bh-archive

chan x hyunjin x hongjoong x san x juyeon x reader

◇ some things are better left unknown by @roseykat

chan x felix x reader, threesome

lee minho

♧ dilf!minho by @cinhomi

dilf!minho x baby sitter!reader, breeding kink, pregnancy talk

bang chan

☆ bad idea by @hyunsvngs

step dad!chan, getting together, infidelity

hwang hyunjin

♤ dressing down by @jl-micasea-fics

best friends to lovers, mutual pining

lee felix

◇ best friend felix by @ddyskz

best friends to lovers, fluffy smut

♧ felix + thigh riding by @straykeedz

☆ cockwarming by @dreaming-medium

coworkers au, secretary!felix, office sex

ot7

♤ shadows we trust by @remedyx

supernatural au, mystical creatures!bts, dark circus au

◇ masked miracles by @remedyx

hybrid!bts, detective!reader

♧ stay alive by @staytinyville

mythical creatures!bts, supernatural au

☆ trouvaille by @spookyserenades

hybrid!bts, witch!reader, supernatural au, some horror themes

♤ eternally theirs by @imnotlauriane

dragon!bts, soulmates au, knights au

◇ the lucky seven by @riphobisbraces

hybrid!bts, princess!human!reader

♤ emerald gem by @sweetlyskz

hybrid!bts, reader has a farm, strangers to lovers

♧ oh, little red by @jincherie

wolf!yoongi x reader x wolf!jimin, red riding hood au

min yoongi

☆ celestial ruin by @remedyx

fallen angel!yoongi x angel!reader, corruption arc

♤ fxck a fxckboy by @yoongifis

fuckboy!yoongi x smartass!reader

kim taehyung

◇ isn't that what brothers do? by @aris-ink

step brother!taehyung, forbidden romance, dub con

♧ black swan by @aris-ink

step dad!taehyung, manipulation, corruption, cheating

☆new flame by @gimmethatagustd

alpha!taehyung x omega!reader, heat sex

jeon jungkook

♤ family secrets by @aris-ink

step brother!jungkook, dry humping

◇ icarus by @aris-ink

step brother!jungkook, risky/sneaky sex

♧ close by @aft3rhrs

step brother!jungkook, forbidden romance

choi soobin

☆ let's play a game by @anyamaris

soobin x reader x yeosang (ateez), friends to lovers, primal play

♤ closed doors by @last-words-ofashootingstar

soobin x reader x hongjoong, idol au, obsessed!soobin

◇ super shy! by @fairyofshampgyu

shy virgin baker!soobin x experienced reader

♧ i <3 nerds by @enha-cafe

nerdy!soobin secretly a sex god au

multiple members

☆ drippin' by @ncteez

'00 line x reader, friends to lovers, birthday orgy

♤ cookie jar by @neopuppy

step brothers!jeno and jaemin x reader, stuck in a dryer au

♧ sos by @neopuppy

a/b/o, sex pollen au, pollen induced heat/rut

lee jeno

☆ shameless by @neopuppy

step son!jeno x step mom!reader, infidelity, very dub con

♤ hand kink by @jaylaxies

roommates au, hand kink

lee mark

◇ i can help by @recklessmark

step dad!mark, corruption, manipulation, infidelity

ATEEZ rec list pt. 1 | pt. 2

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frauleiiin · 6 months

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SWTOR Secret Santa 2023

As requested by many, there is the SWTOR Secret Santa for this year! The exchange will be hosted by me @frauleiiin.

The exchange is open to writers, artists and people who make edits!

The exchange works like a real life secret santa. You'll receive a prompt to draw/write/edit a piece for someone and you'll also receive a piece from someone else.

RULES

We'll stick to a Safe For Work (SFW) event to try to include as much people as we can. So no explicit sex or explicit nudity. The exchange is open to 16+.

No extreme gore, blood, violence. Action/fighting scenes are fine and minor blood is okay. If you have doubts refer to me.

If you can't finish your gift in time, please message me @frauleiiin as soon as you can so I can find you a replacement.

Be sure your tumblr can accept private messages from me so I can send you the prompts and check on your progress!

Fanfictions need to be a minimum of 600 words.

Illustrations need to be more elaborated than a sketch. So colored sketch, colored line art, black & white rendered sketch, etc. As long as it feels somehow finished, go for it.

This is an obvious rule but still, Star Wars: The Old Republic pieces ONLY.

SCHEDULE

Signs-ups are open NOW (December 10th)

Signs-up end December 15th at 2:00 PM UTC−5! [CLOSED]

You'll receive your Giftee and prompts on the 15th-16th.

Gifts are due January 1st-11th 20th January (Delayed)

SIGN-UPS

Here's the form to the exchange!

If I forgot anything or you have questions, please, do contact me! The tag this year is #swtor secret santa 2023. I'm really excited for this secret santa, I hope we all get to have a good time!

REBLOG AS MUCH AS YOU CAN, we only have 5 days for the entries this year so let's try to hook as much people we can!!

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trina864 · 8 months

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Affection and Seduction | J.JK

Summery: Tuesday arrives, and Jungkook takes it a step further. He promises that it gets better and wilder the further you go, but right now? He just loves to make you all flustered. Paring: Jungkook x Reader Lyric: "I take my hands and trace your lines..." Genre: Fanfiction, Romance | Smut. Fluff. Word Count: 4.5 K Chapter Guide: Tuesday Previous / Next - Coming Soon Warnings: Female Reader. Mature themes. Explicit Words. Making out. Smut. Jungkook x reader. Naked reader. Naked Jungkook. Fingering, F!recieving. Sɛx. Dry humping. Very very little voyeurism. Mentions of ropes, ball gag and crops. Brat Reader. Dirty Talk. Female on the pill. No condom sɛx. Friends having sɛx. Not a couple. Friends 2 lovers. Jimin as readers friend. Jimin loving drama. Mentions of past feelings.

Tuesday arrives and you're actually looking forward to whatever Jungkook has planned.

The whole deal is still new to you, and the fact that you're having sex with Jungkook is even newer. But you can't find it in you to complain. You have always wondered what it would be like, that it's greater than you had imagined is your own fault.

Monday had been lovely. You and Jungkook had fallen asleep on either side of the bed, and when you woke it was to the morning sun warming you like a soft blanket. You had spent the morning making breakfast together and dancing to the beats of quiet R&B.

The morning felt like any other whenever you and Jungkook had sleepovers, and that made you feel relieved. Nothing has changed between you, you're still just Y/N and Jungkook.

"Y/N?! Hallo, are you even listening?" Jimin says and waves a hand in front of you.

Jimin sits besides you on your baby green couch, the exact same place where Jungkook sat just this morning.

It's late morning, Jungkook left not even two hours ago. You had totally forgotten the breakfast deal you had made with Jimin and it was only when he knocked at your door that you remembered that the pretty man is visiting.

You come out of your daydream and look at Jimin. "Hm? Yea, sorry what did you say?" Jimin watches as you shake your head and rub a hand against your head.

It's clear to Jimin that you're acting weirder than usual, he just can't figure out why or if it’s a good thing. "Is something wrong Y/N? You seem like you're in another world." He says and you have to keep your laugh.

If only he knew what you and Jungkook have been doing he would understand right away, but you're hesitant on telling him.

He won't understand the situation, he’d just assume you and Kook are in a relationship, even though that certainly is not the case.

"It's nothing Jimin, just work." You say knowing damn well that's a lie. You do feel bad for lying to your friend, but you would feel even worse if he teased you about something that isn’t true.

"Oh yea! How is it going with that book?" He asks and you smile. "It's going well, I just have to figure out how to write the best character growth, and I have no inspiration." You say and Jimin looks at you with empathic eyes.

He knows all about not having inspiration, if he isn't inspired when dancing it usually isn't a good dance.

"I'm sure you'll figure it out, just give it some time." He says and you're about to answer when a sudden noise of your phone has you checking what it could be.

Kookie 🍪🐰:

{ - Come to my place at 18:00 tomorrow?

Y/N:

{ - Sure (; Eat from home? Or no?

Kookie 🍪🐰:

{ - No. Eat dinner here.

{ - Looking forward to seeing you Goddess.

The smile that covers your lips are shocking to Jimin. The way you giggle as you text back a reply to whoever texted you can only mean one thing.

You hear a gasp come from Jimin as he turns his entire body towards you and takes the phone from you. You're about to protest when he again gasps and claps a hand over his mouth.

"Don't tell me you and Jungkook are finally together." He says and you snatch the phone back from him. "What!? No! Why would I and Jungkook be together?" You say and already dread what you know is about to happen.

“I knew it! Fuck Taehyung owes me 15 bucks, I have to tell him.” Jimin says “You guys betted on us?” You ask, you would’ve tried to stop Jimin if it wasn’t because you knew there is no stopping your drama loving friend.

“Of course we did.” He says his gaze fixed on the phone in his hands, “Honestly Y/N you two are very obvious. Again why are you guys not together?”

You sigh knowing you’ll have to explain yourself again for the 100th time. “Jungkook needs his freedom and I do too. We can’t commit.” You say but the sad tone in your voice is not unnoticed by Jimin.

He knew there was a time when you were totally obsessed with Jungkook. You hung him on the moon and stargazed after him every day. Jimin never knew when or why you stopped loving him.

And to be honest he didn’t dare ask. There was just something so sad and unsettling surrounding it that he couldn’t get himself mixed up in.

Jimin stayed with you the rest of Monday, even when you had to work he stayed in the living room stealing your food and binging tv shows. Jimin has always been like this, especially with you. There are times you think he may have separation anxiety, but you know he really just likes to be together with people.

He leaves when the time hits 10 pm and you can finally get your well deserved sleep.

The next day at 6 pm you stand in front of Jungkooks door. The whole day you have had butterflies storming around in your stomach. Jungkook had texted with you all day and you swear you have never gotten so much attention from anyone before.

He had written good morning, and asked how work was, he had written he was looking forward to seeing you, and much more.

As the door opens and the man finally shows himself in front of you all the butterflies makes a twirl. You know it's not even been 24 hours since you last saw him, but the new deal between you two is still so exciting.

"You look good." Jungkook says as you enter and give him a hug.

You smile before saying “You don’t look too bad yourself.” He laughs and walks into the apartment. His white tshirt is not hiding much, the see through material makes it so easy for you eyes to peek at all the tattoos adoring his body.

Jungkook is a walking sin in your eyes, but maybe that’s just the idea of what’s going to happen later that’s making you feel like this.

The new feelings around Jungkook are so foreign, you’ve never felt like this ever.

Sex and the world around it isn’t a stranger for you, but you’ve never been this far off into the world.

You’ve never been this excited about sex.

You walk in Jungkook's heals all the way into his luxurious kitchen. His apartment have always been your favorite, not even your own could compare with the comfort and style Jungkook's has.

“I would say I hope you like spaghetti, but I know you do so I’m not going to say that.” He laughs and it infects you too.

The silence afterwards as Jungkook cooks dinner and you admire the smell of Jungkooks famous spaghetti, is nice and easy.

In the background you hear notes of Frank Ocean, and outside the sun is settling down.

But the curiosity which fills your limbs are too strong and you break the silence. “So what do you have planned for us after dinner?”

On Jungkooks face the little mischievous smile shows on his face again and he shrugs leaving you in the dark.

“What do you want to happen?” He asks daring and stirs in the spaghetti without looking at you.

“You know…-“ you walk closer to him, you stand behind his back and go up on your tippy toes to reach his ear. “Maybe I want a bit more this time.”

The reaction is instantly, he turns around leaving the stove, and presses his lips to yours. If it hadn’t been because of the stove he would've lifted you up on it and taken you right there.

But the stove is on, and he only just manages to get his tongue in when the clock goes off and you have to break free from each other.

It’s hard to let go of him and his arousing body, but you’re also looking forward to that spaghetti, and if he accidently overcooked it you would be very mad.

A minute or two later he's leading you into the dinning area together with the hot pan. As you reach the table a gasp reaches your lips. The table is covered with a red tablecloth, burning lights are placed between two white plates and wine glasses are standing proud on the table.

It's very beautiful... and maybe a little too romantic?

A weird feeling bubbles up inside you and you can't decipher it. It's a mixture of awe and yuck. Old feelings comes to the surface, but you quickly pushes them down again.

Jungkook's happy face and hoping eyes makes you hesitate on telling him how weird you feel about this, and instead you go with it.

You hurry over to a chair before he can pull it out for you, and you sit down with a more than a forced smile. Jungkook doesn't notice though as he places the hot stove in front of you and sit down before you.

From the window behind him you see how dark the night is getting and small lights from the city shines behind him, it looks as if he's surrounded by stars. You pull your eyes away quickly as the word 'beautiful' crosses your mind.

"This is so pretty Jungkook, I can't believe you've done this. How long did it take?" You ask to ease the nauseas feeling mixing with something really old.

"Not too long, I just thought I'd do something nice for you, y'know as a way to show you that I'm grateful you accepted my offer." He says and that eases some of the heavy feelings which swept over you.

"Well you sure did do something very nice." You don't mean to make it sound like it does, like you're ungrateful, but just as the words leave your mouth and his face falters slightly you know it's too late.

"You think it's too much?" He asks and the insecurities shines through, all of those you have spent hours talking with him about.

"No! Not at all Jungkook, I was a little frightened at first why it was so romantic, but it's very nice I love it." You sugarcoat the words a lot and make sure to not hurt him again, you hate hurting Jungkook.

Jungkook has always seemed tough, he says things like he thinks them, but he has so many emotions that one would never think about.

You do though, but that’s just your person, you think.

The two of you eats after that awkward moment and you quickly forget about it as the food touches your mouth.

Jungkook's spaghetti truly is the best!

He laughs as your face converts into a look of overwhelming joy. His secret weapon to get to you is food, it has always been food.

As the plates slowly gets emptier and emptier your anticipation rises, so does goosebumps on your arms as Jungkook's leg roams yours under the table.

His poker face is too good, not even the slightest hint of a smile on his face as he talks on about a funny encounter he had with Namjoon a day ago.

You don’t hear anything he says, all you hear is your own heartbeat, and his breathing.

You can’t look away from his lips even when you try your hardest. It’s frustrating to lose control like this, but you’ll admit that it’s also exciting.

Jungkook stops talking as he notices where your attention lies. A look plays on your face, a look he’s slowly getting very familiar with.

“Are you listening Y/N?” He asks, and you shake your head no, too allured to pronounce words.

It’s just the entirety of him that’s way too enchanting.

Suddenly he gets up and you sit still in your chair as he walks beside the table and over to you.

His right hand takes a hold on the backrest, and his left on your thigh, then he gets closer, lower. You both hear the gulp you make. Your cheeks are burning with the heat from Jungkook.

It’s the same feelings as yesterday, excitement and lust.

When he finally connects his lips to yours it’s in a hungry kiss. He doesn’t waist any time today and opens your mouth and lets his tongue in.

The game has started and you can feel it quickly escalating. The both of you stands up and Jungkook immediately starts undoing your pants and rips the shirt over your head.

You’re left in underwear, which you feel is very unfair, but as you pull the white thee off Jungkook's body and his tattoos shows up it isn’t as bad.

You don’t know what it is about his tattoos, but they turn you on so much that you get the thought you want to lick every dot and line of them.

His arms wraps around the back of your thigh and he pulls you up. You wrap them around his waist, and it surprises you how thin his waist is. Yesterday you were too overwhelmed with other parts of his body to notice his waist, but damn did you miss that beautiful waist.

You kiss him harder and press yourself deeper into him, and down by your womanhood you can feel Jungkook growing.

Before you even notice Jungkook has walked you into his bedroom, where purple led lights are shining and making him glow.

You’re in awe at how handsome he is and you stop for just a second to appreciate him.

“What is it?” He asks very lustily and very gently.

“You’re just very beautiful right now.” You answer honest and almost cringe at how that sounded. Normally you would never say something like that, but whatever it’s just one time.

In the corner of his mouth a small smile rises, but he hides it by kissing you again.

Small and light kisses all over your face, and it makes you laugh. He slowly goes over to the bed and lays you down carefully.

You love rough sex more than anything, but this right now is not bad, it’s different, and you need to get used too it, but it’s sure feels amazing.

Then the happy hour breaks as you remember this isn’t forever, and you shouldn’t get used too it. And old feelings play through your mind. You push them away.

When you’re finally laying on the bed, Jungkook crawls up from the foot end to where you’re sat at the top. His back muscles flex and unflex, and his tattoos dances across the skin.

You don't understand the attraction between you two, it's so strong, yet still too weak. But you don't need tro understand it to act on it.

His sweatpants are still on, but you can clearly see the bulge he's hiding in them. It’s big and ready for your touch.

As if it was a lifeline you grab onto his cock and Jungkook’s response is instant. A moan, a grunt and then he manhandles you up over his lap.

He softly guides your trembling hips over his crotch, and the pleasure extends over both your faces. Jungkook's fingertips traces the line of your panties and he smiles at the cute small bow.

So extremely sinful, yet that little bow just makes him look at you with the tenderest grin. Not that you notice you're too hypnotized by the work of his crotch and his cock hitting you. Even thought it's covered by clothes, you can imagine the way it would slide into your pussy.

Jungkook can see a wet spot on top of his sweatpants, which makes him pant harder. Your thighs around his hips makes him hard, and you feel that, as his dick pushes up underneath you.

You make sure to sway your hips extremely careful and precise over it, Jungkook's face trembles into pleasure.

“Hmm, you like it when my hips are on top of yours like this?” You ask and press harder.

Jungkook knows what he must look like, but right now he doesn’t care.

Until he suddenly does, and something between you switches. The little dominance you had overtaken shifts and Jungkook pushes you onto your stomach.

His hand stays on your lower back, pushing your cunt into the madras, and making sure you feel the friction, and it’s obvious that you’re feeling the friction, your moans are loud and clear, and very begging.

“Jungkook! Jungkook please, please do something!” You say and Jungkook only mocks you by pushing you deeper onto the madras.

"What? Hm? What was it again that you chanted yesterday?.. Something about my dick?" His voice is deeper than usual, much like it was yesterday, and you can feel him at the shell of your ear, breathing into it.

"Mhm! Yes, yes!" You stutter and hump into the madras. Jungkook chuckles looking down yours and his body. You're laying flat on your stomach and he on top of you.

His dick is uncomfortably hard, laying flat across your ass. The power he has over you right now is unbearable, he's sure he could suggest anything right now, ropes, crops, ball gag, he could pull up the weirdest shit and you would jump in with both feet.

But he has a plan that he wants to follow by, and even if the thought of you gagged up and bound, is very intriguing he has to wait, just a little longer.

“Mhm, well then you’ll have to be a good girl for me.” Jungkook says and his lips drags across the skin on your neck. You only whimper which is enough signal for Jungkook to go on.

“Let me watch as you touch yourself,” He says and kisses behind the shell of your ear, “Show me how you please yourself.”

The image of you touching yourself with Jungkook's eyes watching your every movement is both sensual and anxious. Will he be satisfied with only watching?

Of course he won’t. Jungkook plans on burying his cock deep inside your pussy and drown it in your juices. But he has always had a deep desire to see you touch yourself, ever since the day you spoke to him. Were you chanting his name when your fingers graced your pussy? Or were you thinking of his body?

He needs answers to that question.

You moan as Jungkook humps over you, a little warning hump, on what’s going to happen afterwards.

Your hands reach down quickly and it’s a little difficult getting under your stomach and down to your clit as Jungkook’s weight also pushes down over you. But once your hands finally touches the fabric of your panties, you hump down over your hand.

Jungkook’s name immediately leave your lips, as if it was him who did it. And you do it again and imagine his long fingers doing it, just like yesterday.

Watching you like this, all fucked out and needy does things to Jungkook. He felt it yesterday, but it has come back today.

“Yea just like that baby.” Jungkook groan, and his hand finds it way down to yours. As his hand takes over the speed involves and you can feel yourself falling into a deep aroused hole, which you’re not sure you can come out of.

While all this happens and Jungkook adds two fingers into your pussy, he plants small kisses of affection all over your neck and upper back.

"More... More Kookie." You moan, and Jungkook can't control his smirk. "More Yea? Then turn around." He says as he raises himself off you and pulls his hand away.

The missing action makes you want to pull him back, but the thought of Jungkooks dick finally entering you is so much more appealing, so you control yourself and turn around like Jungkook had told you to.

Jungkook waits until you're finally laying down, head against his pillows which he knows is going to smell like you tomorrow. When your big eyes all needy for him looks up at him like this, he is reminded why he asked for this deal in the first place.

You're very beautiful in his eyes, and never being able to just tell you is killing him. But at least he can show you now.

Jungkook unties the straps of his sweatpants and your eyes follows every move. It's sensual and sinful watching the buff man peal off his clothes for you.

And when he finally pulls his boxers off as well and his cock jumps up to his abdomen, you're panting and rubbing your thighs against each other. Jungkook notices and that only feeds his ego.

"Take your underwear off, Y/N." He says, adorable smile playing on his lips, in contrast to his angry dick.

You immediately follow suit and pull your bra and panties off. You stay like that for a minute appreciating each other bodies. The erotic picture of Jungkook naked in front of you makes the sheets wet under you.

"Shit, Y/N, you look so good right now-" He says, but you cut him off by pulling him down and kissing him.

The way your lips move against each other is a new feeling. The both of you have gotten used to how the other kisses, and it gets better and better for every time you do it.

Between kisses Jungkook whispers all sorts of dirty things while he closes in on your body. "Mhm, I bet you're wet enough for the neighbors to hear it through the wall." "My sweet little baby, all needy and whiney for me." "I'm gonna coat you in my cum."

All these sorts of things leaves his mouth, and if you weren't this turned on it would probably have been gross, but his words only adds to the pleasure between your legs.

It's you who breaks the kiss. You lock eyes with him, they shine purple in the shadow of the led lights. Your hand slides over his cock, giving him a few pumps, and Jungkook moan in surprise.

"I want you. Right now." You say and Jungkook sees how serious you're trying to be with this. "I'm all yours Y/N." He says and line his dick up with your pussy, and finally you moan in union as he slips into you.

You've had sex many times with different people, but there's something totally different and even more intimate about this. The sounds you both let out are loud, and Jungkook moves fast from the beginning grinding into you with force. "Ah.. Fuck Y/N."

Your legs close in to get even more pleasure, but Jungkook rips them apart and pushes each of your knees down to the madras. "Shi- it." You say in response and Jungkook smiles down at you and bends to kiss your forehead. Your hands on Jungkook's back scratches as his dick hits your g-spot and his pelvis hits your clit. "Kookie.." You moan and turn your head, too deep into the pleasure to keep up. It doesn't take long before you feel your orgasm build up. Your whole body is glistering with sweat and so is Jungkook's. The white sheets are wrinkled up underneath you. Jungkook's hands leave your knees and instead takes a hard grip around your waist.

"I'm gonna try something baby, tap me twice if you want me to stop, okay?" You can't answer, no words will leave your mouth so you only nod.

When Jungkook said he wanted to try something you had not imagined that meant turning you over and onto all fours.

You're placed on all fours and Jungkook knows exactly what he's doing. He knows this is your favorite position, and you also happen to know it's his.

Jungkook's dick is still inside you, but he slowly pulls it out leaving only the tip. "Lay down for me goddess." Jungkook says and pushes on your upper back. With the little energy you have left you fall down, and only your ass is in the air now.

His hands hold tightly around your waist, and suddenly Jungkook hammers his dick into you with a force that has you nearly banging your head into the headboard. "Shit...!" You yell and are aware that the neighbors have full access to the noise you’re making.

His dick slide in and out of you and Jungkook can feel your walls tightening around him. It only adds to his desire and makes him push into you with even more force. His hands on your waist are giving electric shocks, and he lowers himself over your back and whisper into your ears.

“Do you feel that huh? How my cock is fitting so good into your pussy. Such a pretty little pussy, so tight and ready for me.” He says and that plus a very good hit in your g-spot is what tips you over.

Your orgasm hits, your back arches and it’s Jungkook’s weight over you that keeps you pressed down into the bed. You walls clench so much that Jungkook’s grinds slows down and it’s not long after you feel him twitch inside you and he pulls out and cums on your back. "FU- U- CK, Y/N..." He says.

He collapse on top of you and the white stripes of his cum mixes in between you. Not that you care, you’re both basking in the silence and satisfaction after the sex.

It fees magical, this moment. His body warmth is like a blanket, you want to keep him around you forever.

But after a few minutes he rises and the sticky noise form his cum fills your ears. He kisses you, “let’s get you cleaned up.” his arms sneaks around you and lifts you up.

Carrying you through the house and over to his bathroom he places you in the bathtub and fills it with water. There’s not once where he turns his back to you or his attention away, and you feel like a wanted person.

The water is hot and suites into your muscles loosing them up.

“So what happens afterwards?” You ask when you sit in the bathtub, asking yourself if he would kick you out now or not.

“You stay the night and we wake up together tomorrow, sounds good?” His hands play around with the water from your bath. His eyes are locked with yours and it’s weird seeing Jungkook this affectionate.

Usually when you see him with other girls, it’s sex and goodbye. You never knew Jungkook could be such a gentleman.

A smile plays on your lips, “That sounds good.” You say and try to hide how giddy you feel.

After the bath Jungkook carries you back to the bed. A movie is rolling in the background as you lay cuddled up by Jungkook’s side. You’re mostly watching the movie, but Jungkook just can’t pull his eyes from the small creature which is you laying in his arms.

When you fall asleep Jungkook turns off the movie and he too falls asleep next to you, with you pulled tightly into him.

Next morning you wake up first. Your legs are sore and your hair is a nest. But even so you lie smiling looking at Jungkook taking small puffs of air and clinging onto you like a little child.

You wouldn’t change this morning for anything in the world. This deal is the best thing you’ve ever agreed to.

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uniquexusposts · 21 days

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Her || Charles

Main characters: Charles Leclerc x OC Genre: fanfiction, fluff Story type: novel Part: 12/? Word count: 3726 Co writer: @mistrose23

Summary: This was Matilde Jørgensen, the newly appointed team principal of Scuderia Ferrari, about to face one of the most nerve-wracking challenges of her life. She tried to save the team from more disappointing results and put everything on the line to make them world champion again. There will be a big challenge to lead a historic team as 'newbie' and keeping her work and personal opinions apart from each other. The big question everybody will be asking: is she capable to do so?

Previous chapter

Chapter 10. Unaware

"Hey," Matilde said when she entered the room next to her office. Galileo was already working behind his desk. "Do you have a minute so that we can talk?"

The young Italian nodded, knowing what this was about. "Of course."

"Do you want something to drink? I'm getting a cappuccino."

Galileo raised his eyebrows and really wanted to say something, but he thought it was best to keep his mouth shut. "No, thank you."

Matilde had to do her best to hide her grin. It was 14:00, and technically, according to the Italians, it was too late to drink a cappuccino. But she didn't care. People in this office didn't care about her, so why should she care? "Okay. I'll be back in... five?"

"Yes, absolutely."

The Dane walked to the coffee corner on the same floor and asked the barista for a cappuccino. Again, she received the side eye, but Matilde only smiled, causing the barista to make the cappuccino anyway.

A few minutes later, Matilde entered her office and called Galileo in. "How are you?"

"I'm fine," he nodded as he sat across from her. "How about you?"

Matilde pressed the corners of her mouth down, acting casual. "Fine, fine," she mumbled. "I will go straight to the point because, apparently, I have a board meeting now." She noticed the stress on Galileo's face when she said it. "How come I was unaware of the inauguration ceremony this morning?" Matilde asked and looked at Galileo. 'And the board meeting?'

The young assistant parted his lips and looked at his boss. His heartbeat became fast; he forgot to inform her about the inauguration ceremony and the board meeting. "I... I forgot, I think."

She nodded. "Thank you for being honest with me, Galileo," she said. "Look, I would be lying if I said it is okay and can happen. I need to know when these things happen, these events are very important for me, the team and for the representation of this team. You are here to support me, manage my appointments and to make sure I am aware of it." Matilde shared a warm smile, she could see how sorry he was. "For now, it happened, and there's nothing we can do about it anymore. But for the next time, double-check everything, okay?"

"I will. I am sorry," the young Italian said.

"Thank you."

Galileo got up and was about to leave the office.

"These things happen, but make sure you learn from them. Without making mistakes, you won't learn properly," she reminded him before he left.

Once he left the room, her smile dropped, and she turned around in her chair, facing the wall behind her desk. She blinked a couple of times and yawned. Being a team principal was literally being a teacher to toddlers. Matilde took a deep breath and got up, taking her laptop, notebook and coffee with her. She made her way to the meeting room, ready to be attacked and to defend herself in front of the most influential people of Ferrari.

"Hello," she said when entering the room, leaving the door open.

The big people looked already annoyed, a great start. She showed no fear and made her way to the only available seat.

"We've been waiting for you for over fifteen minutes," a woman said.

Matilde didn't remember her name, only that she looked like Donatella Versace. Matilde glanced at her, ready to say something, but she got interrupted by a knock on the door. She looked at the person, it was Mario. "Mario," Matilde smiled.

"Sorry to interrupt. Can I ask you a question?" Mario said.

"Of course. What is it?" She nodded and opened her laptop.

Sighs filled the room, causing Mario to look uncomfortable. Glances were shared; why did Mario interrupt? But a more important question was: why did someone from the night shift ask for her?

"The order that is missing, do we have an update on it yet?" Mario asked, hoping the order had arrived.

Matilde blew up her cheeks. "I have not seen a note yet, so I don't think so. I will follow it up after this meeting, you will hear from me."

The night shift manager and the team principal looked at each other; both wondering why they were present at the office. Mario squeezed his eyebrows together. "I thought you were supposed to be here at..." Mario pulled up the sleeve of his watch. "Six o'clock?"

"Well," she countered. "And what are you doing here then?" A cheeky smile came on her face.

"Mhm-mhm," Mario chuckled. "I will hear from you," he winked and walked away.

It was silent in the room again. Matilde looked around, raising her eyebrows, waiting for the meeting to start.

"What was that all about?" the same woman as earlier asked.

"If you work a shift, you are not allowed to start your next shift eleven hours after your previous shift ended. And since the night shift ended eight hours ago, we are legally forbidden to be here and work until six this afternoon," Matilde explained, reminding the board about the rules.

No one reacted to the comment. Instead, Simone started the meeting with a small introduction of why the board came together. "Firstly, do you have a reason why you were late to this board meeting, Matilde?"

Matilde looked up from her laptop and blinked a couple of times, taking a sip of her coffee. "Legally, I am not supposed to be here. My shift ended eight hours ago, which I explained a few seconds ago. I am making an exception to be here," she mentioned. "So the reason why I am late: I am still off duty."

No one seemed to find a suitable answer to her reply. Again, they were sharing looks with each other, trying to understand why she took a night shift.

"For clarification: I am taking night shifts every other week?" Matilde looked around, she thought people were aware about that. She always wrote it down in her work agenda and everyone has access to her agenda.

"Noted," Simone said and he looked at his notes. "So the reason why you were late at the inauguration ceremony is also because of the break-rule. But may I ask why you're here? You are legally not allowed to be here for four more hours, as you said so yourself."

"Exactly." Even though that wasn't the exact reason why she was late at the ceremony, she thought that was an excellent reason for this board. Galileo made a mistake, but that was something between them, and Matilde wanted to protect him from the board. "And the reason why I'm here is because I was bored at home. And I'm the team principal, I always have work to do."

The woman who spoke to her at the beginning, took over. Wasn't her name Antonia? A sly smirk appeared on her face, she was ready to attack the young team principal. "We received a message from PR about the celebrations in Miami."

Oh, here we go, Matilde thought. How did PR know about this? Who talked? Matilde nodded, accepting that she had to explain her side of the incident.

"We understand that you are delighted to celebrate your first win - as you should, but we received videos of you partying with Max Verstappen and some employees of Red Bull Racing. You have to understand that that is not great for your image."

Matilde straightened her face. This was about Max and Red Bull? She looked around, everyone looked sternly at her, like she had damaged their reputation. "Well, yes-"

"We understand you have your friends at your former team, but you cannot be seen like this." The tone of Antonia was unrelenting.

Matilde was prepared to defend herself and maintain her professionalism, but the weight of their expectations was palpable. She took a moment to generate her response. Of course, she knew the delicate balance she had to follow between maintaining relationships in the paddock and upholding Ferrari's image.

"Matilde, do you think that action was appropriate?" Simone could see Matilde was thinking about a response, but he wanted her to be faster. He was taking notes, looked up and waited for a further response. "It could be perceived as celebrating with a competitor, a rival."

"I appreciate your concern," Matilde began, her voice steady. "And I acknowledge that appearances matter. However-" Before she could elaborate further on her intentions, someone else cut in.

"Our image is important. We cannot afford to have our team principal's actions misinterpreted, especially with a rival team." The voice of the man was sharp, but impatient.

The frustration in Matilde's veins simmered just below the surface. But she maintained her composure. "As I was trying to say, we must also consider the context. I was not celebrating with Max and Red Bull Ra-"

"You have to understand that it's not just about the context."

This meeting was about interrogating Matilde, to share their criticisms without allowing her to respond fully and to defend herself. Matilde had expected a severe meeting about the team's performances, not this relentless lecture that made her feel increasingly unheard and undermined.

Matilde clenched her jaw and she took a deep breath, now her irritation began to bubble up. She didn't get the chance to explain herself, as they only seemed to be interested in one side of the story. She refused to back down on her story. "I understand the importance of our image-" she repeated, her voice tight.

But yet again, she was cut off by Simone, who seemed to have a lot of fun by irritating her. "Our team's reputation is at stake here. You may see it as a small gesture, but the public won't always perceive it that way," Simone looked at Antonia. "Antonia, you have set up a statement. Matilde, we want you to publish a statement for this incident."

Matilde squeezed her eyebrows together, and she looked around as if she was the main character of The Office. "Excuse me? Why?" Her tone was openly irritated now. "I acknowledge the importance of the team's image, but let's not lose sight of the bigger picture here. This obsession with a harmless moment is counterproductive."

"Matilde, the perception of our team matters. We need to control the narrative. A statement will help manage this situation," Antonia said.

Matilde almost groaned in frustration. They weren't listening to her, it was like they were fixated on the statement and not the reason behind it. "I understand your point, but let's not forget the context. I believe we are blowing this out of proportion. If I just may-" Her patience was wearing thin.

"You have to-"

"If you could, please let me finish," she repeated, raising her voice a little bit, demanding to have the word. "The reason why I was standing next to Max and Red Bull was because I was not invited to our own team's celebration dinner," she explained.

The board members exchanged glances, and Simone leaned back in his chair, a look of incredulity on his face. "So you decide to celebrate your win with our rival?" He repeated, as though the idea was utterly preposterous.

Matilde blinked a couple of times, looking unheard. Did they just not hear what she said? "In other words, yes," she responded. "Because I was not invited to the team's celebration dinner. And I want to clarify this: Max Verstappen is my friend, Red Bull is filled with my friends-"

"We need to address this issue promptly and professionally," Antonia chimed in, her tone critical. "Drafting a statement is the right course of action."

Matilde's frustration had reached its peak. She couldn't believe how obstinate the board was being, seemingly ignoring her explanations. Their need to release a statement was maddening. "Are you even listening to me? Why do I need to justify myself for the fact that I, the team principal, was not invited to the team's celebration dinner? It makes more sense for you to justify this situation." She felt so extremely selfish to say that she wasn't invited and that she had to be invited. Perhaps everyone disliked her and it was their plan not to invite her, and perhaps it was her expectation she had to be invited. Perhaps she was the issue.

"You are the team principal, you are a model to not only your team, but to the entire field and fanbase," Simone emotionlessly replied.

"Fine, but then make sure Leclerc is not allowed to talk to Gasly outside of work anymore, or meet with him outside of the track. And ban Sainz from golfing with Norris," Matilde shot back.

While the board was discussing the situation, the entire floor could hear their debate. Even though there was a lot of work to do, the entire floor of employees were more interested in the conversation. People gathered around, close enough to the meeting room to hear everything, but not to be seen by the board members. It had been the first time they heard Matilde speaking up like this. People doubted if she ever could get angry, but after this weekend and this discussion, they figured out Matilde could get angry very badly.

Charles and Carlos were sitting at a desk, in the engineers room, discussing some points for the sim later this afternoon. They could hear the discussion very well. Even they stopped working to follow the discussion.

"She's feisty," Charles said perplexedly. "Oh, my gosh." He covered his mouth with his hand.

"After Sunday, I didn't think she could surprise me anymore, but I didn't expect this," an engineer mentioned.

Carlos' mouth hung open, focussing on the conversation. "We have to say something, this is something between her and the board, not us."

"No, no, don't," Charles replied, raising his arm.

"But this is unacceptable. You're nosy."

"It is their problem, not ours. They shouldn't have left the door wide open," Charles shrugged. Carlos got up. "Don't," Charles said disappointingly.

Carlos shook his head, left the engineer's room and walked through the hallway. He noticed how the entire floor was standing close to the meeting room. It was serious, very serious. Charles joined him on the walk, he couldn't resist the urge to get closer to the commotion. They squeezed between the people, careful not to obstruct anyone's view.

"I can't believe they're making such a fuss about this," Charles muttered under his breath.

Carlos looked behind him, not realising Charles had followed him. He nodded in agreement. "It's absurd. They're treating her like she committed a crime." He stepped to the room, everybody collectively holding their breath. When he stood in front of the room, Matilde was in the middle of her sentence.

"I still cannot figure out how me, having a night out with my friends, bothers you the most out of that evening?" Matilde asked.

To Carlos' surprise, Matilde was still looking and speaking professionally. He knocked on the door, alerting them to his presence. "Hey, I am..." He pointed at the door.

She looked at him and held up her hand. "You can leave the door open, Carlos," she said before continuing on the same tone with the rest of her words. "Do you know what bothers me the most? Besides the board not understanding this situation, the fact that the entire team, not just a few people, but everyone, went out for dinner to celebrate the win and they did not even bother to ask me to join them on purpose."

Carlos stood speechlessly in front of the meeting room. He looked to his right, to his team, with rounded eyes. He walked back to his team. "This is serious shit," he said.

"I will not publish a statement," Matilde finished her story. "I think it will be time for us to hire an external coach or a psychologist. The way of communication has to change internally and as quickly as possible. Especially the communication between employees. That is the main issue in this team. This meeting is over. If there are any questions, don't hesitate to contact my assistant. Good afternoon, everyone."

The people in the hallway didn't know how fast they had to return to their desks. They had to pretend they hadn't been listening. Carlos ran after Charles back to the engineer's room. They jumped down on their seats. A second later, Matilde passed them. Silence fell on the entire floor and they all looked at Matilde; she showed no emotion.

"Holy shit..." Charles whispered. "That was something else," he remarked.

Carlos nodded, still impressed by Matilde's determination. His respect for her grew. "She's not one to back down, that's for sure."

The entire floor has just witnessed their 'puppy' team principal push back against the board with an intensity that was rarely seen. The engineers were buzzing with discussions about what had just transpired. It was clear that Matilde's impassioned defence had made an impact on everyone who had heard it. The board, too, was left with much to consider after her strong words. Her speech had ignited a new level of respect among the team, who now saw her in a different light. Her actions had solidified her position not just as a team principal, but as a leader who wasn't afraid to fight for the people, even against the most powerful figures within Ferrari.

Charles got up from his chair and made his way to Matilde's office. He ignored Galileo, who told him not to enter the office. After knocking, Charles swung open the door; Matilde was standing in front of the window, arms crossed, looking outside, her posture reflecting frustration and exhaustion.

"Hey..." he gently spoke.

Matilde looked over her shoulder. Once their gaze met, she showed just a smile - a smile without emotion or meaning. "Hello," she replied.

"Would you like to grab a coffee?" He pointed behind him. "There's a new coffee stand on the campus."

She considered Charles' offer for a moment. The tension from the board meeting still lingered, just like the unaware ceremony and incident from Sunday. However, she knew a short break and some fresh air would do her good. She stared at her watch and she nodded, she had some time left before her next meeting. "Yeah, sure," she replied, her smile now carrying a bit more warmth.

Charles hoped that this coffee break would provide her some rest and reset. Matilde grabbed her pass and sunglasses before they left her office. In silence they walked over the campus. Charles didn't feel the need to say anything, he wanted to make sure that Matilde could empty her mind.

As they approached the stand, Matilde scanned the new stand. She hadn't seen it before, but it looked cute. It was quite a minimalist stand, it was a stand that could go viral on Instagram for the aesthetic. Matilde was surprised to see that they served iced coffee, so she ordered that. Charles ordered a simple espresso.

"Thanks," Matilde broke the silence. They had their coffee and sat down on a small wall next to the stand. Charles looked at her, sharing a questionable look. "For... You know, this."

"Of course." He offered a supportive smile. "A small break can do miracles."

"I..." She took a deep breath. "I really appreciate it."

"Anytime." Charles looked in front of him. "And about Sunday... I didn't know what was happening. I assumed you were at the dinner, but somewhere...I don't know, somewhere where we couldn't see you."

"It's okay. It happened."

"It's not okay and it wasn't classy from our side."

"It is what it is, Charles. I hope it was miscommunication and I hope we all learn from it," she responded. Momentarily, Matilde didn't like the team, but she couldn't show it. She had to deal and work with it. "And I didn't celebrate the win with Max. People told me there wouldn't be a party because of the early flight the next day, so I wanted to get a drink at the hotel. I bumped into Gemma, my best friend. She works as a PR manager for Red Bull, and she dragged me to the restaurant. If I knew about your dinner, I obviously wouldn't have done it."

He pressed his lips into a thin line and he looked at her, it looked like she regretted everything.

"I have my friends at Red Bull. Max and I joined Red Bull at the same time, we 'grew up' together, I met my friend group there. And everyone assumes I moved to Ferrari to spy for Christian. When we see each other, we briefly talk about F1, we mostly talk about bullshit and ourselves, not about our work. I signed a million documents, they signed a million documents, why do people assume we share the team's deepest secrets?"

"You don't have to explain yourself, Matilde. I understand you." Charles knew it was better if she could just rant, let it all out, he wanted to let her know that it was safe to rant with him.

"And this morning, I got here and it was basically the same thing all over again. The ceremony thing and the board meeting I wasn't told about." Her voice cracked and she let out a loud sigh. "I'm sorry."

"Hey, it's okay," Charles replied and put his espresso next to him on the wall. He wrapped his arm around her and rubbed her arm.

Matilde leaned into the comforting gesture. Fortunately, she was wearing sunglasses. "I just want to do what's best for the team. I do what I think is the best," she admitted, her voice filled with raw emotion. "And I know this role isn't for softies, but there's just so much friction."

"Ferrari is a tough team to work with. I can't approve of what happened this week, but it's been a stressful time," he shared.

She straightened her back and dried her eyes. "Thanks." Matilde looked at him. They held each other's gaze for a few seconds. Charles shared a warm smile, Matilde couldn't help, but smile because of his smile. "God, this isn't professional. I am sorry."

Charles chuckled. "Team principal or not, you have feelings and sometimes you have to let them out. This stays between us, alright?"

"Thank you." She got up and looked around. "Let's get back to work. I have a feeling there are more wins in store for us."

Next chapter

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sleeplesslionheart · 8 months

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The Haunting of Bly Manor as Allegory: Self-Sacrifice, Grief, and Queer Representation

As always, I am extremely late with my fandom infatuations—this time, I’m about three years late getting smitten with Dani and Jamie from The Haunting of Bly Manor.

Because of my lateness, I’ll confess from the start that I’m largely unfamiliar with the fandom’s output: whether fanfiction, interpretations, analyses, discourse, what have you. I’ve dabbled around a bit, but haven’t seen anything near the extent of the discussions that may or may not have happened in the wake of the show’s release, so I apologize if I’m re-treading already well-trod ground or otherwise making observations that’ve already been made. Even so, I’m completely stuck on Dani/Jamie right now and have some thoughts that I want to compose and work through.

This analysis concerns the show’s concluding episode in particular, so please be aware that it contains heavy, detailed spoilers for the ending, as well as the show in its entirety. Additionally, as a major trigger warning: this essay contains explicit references to suicide and suicidal ideation, so please tread cautiously. (These are triggers for me, and I did, in fact, manage to trigger myself while writing this—but this was also very therapeutic to write, so those triggering moments wound up also being some healing opportunities for me. But definitely take care of yourself while reading this, okay?).

After finishing Bly and necessarily being destroyed by the ending, staying up until 2:00 a.m. crying, re-watching scenes on Youtube, so on and so forth, I came away from the show (as others have before me) feeling like its ending functioned fairly well as an allegory for loving and being in a romantic partnership with someone who suffers from severe mental illness, grief, and trauma.

Without going too deeply into my own personal backstory, I want to provide some opening context, which I think will help to show why this interpretation matters to me and how I’m making sense of it.

Like many of Bly’s characters, I’ve experienced catastrophic grief and loss in my own life. A few years ago, my brother died in some horrific circumstances (which you can probably guess at if you read between the lines here), leaving me traumatized and with severe problems with my mental health. When it happened, I was engaged to a man (it was back when I thought I was straight (lol), so I’ve also found Dani’s comphet backstory to be incredibly relatable…but more on this later) who quickly tired of my grieving. Just a few months after my brother’s death, my then-fiancé started saying things like “I wish you’d just go back to normal, the way you were” and “I’ve gotten back on-track and am just waiting for you to get back on-track with me,” apparently without any understanding that my old “normal” was completely gone and was never coming back. He saw my panic attacks as threatening and unreasonable, often resorting to yelling at me to stop instead of trying to comfort me. He complained that he felt like I hadn’t reciprocated the care that he’d provided me in the immediate aftermath of my brother’s loss, and that he needed me to set aside my grief (and “heal from it”) so that he could be the center of my attention. Although this was not the sole cause, all of it laid the groundwork for our eventual breakup. It was as though my trauma and mourning had ruined the innocent happiness of his own life, and he didn’t want to deal with it anymore.

Given this, I was powerfully struck by the ways that Jamie handles Dani’s trauma: accepting and supporting her, never shaming her or diminishing her pain.

Early in the show—in their first true interaction with one another, in fact—Jamie finds Dani in the throes of a panic attack. She responds to this with no judgment; instead, she validates Dani’s experiences. To put Dani at ease, she first jokes about her own “endless well of deep, inconsolable tears,” before then offering more serious words of encouragement about how well Dani is dealing with the circumstances at Bly. Later, when Dani confesses to seeing apparitions of Peter and Edmund, Jamie doesn’t pathologize this, doubt it, or demean it, but accepts it with a sincere question about whether Dani’s ex-fiancé is with them at that moment—followed by another effort to comfort Dani with some joking (this time, a light-hearted threat at Edmund to back off) and more affirmations of Dani’s strength in the face of it all.

All of this isn’t to say, however, that Dani’s grief-driven behaviors don’t also hurt Jamie (or, more generally, that grieving folks don’t also do things that hurt their loved ones). When Dani recoils from their first kiss because of another guilt-inspired vision of Eddie, Jamie is clearly hurt and disappointed; still, Jamie doesn’t hold this against Dani, as she instead tries to take responsibility for it herself. A week later, though, Jamie strongly indicates that she needed that time to be alone in the aftermath and that she is wary that Dani’s pattern of withdrawing from her every time they start to get closer will continue to happen. Nonetheless, it’s important to note that this contributes to Dani’s recognition that she’s been allowing her guilt about Eddie’s death to become all-consuming, preventing her from acting on her own desires to be with Jamie. That recognition, in turn, leads Dani to decide to move through her grief and beyond her guilt. Once she’s alone later in the evening after that first kiss, Dani casts Eddie’s glasses into the bonfire’s lingering embers; she faces off with his specter for a final time, and after burning away his shadow, her visions of him finally cease. When she and Jamie reunite during their 6:00 a.m. terrible coffee visit, Dani acknowledges that the way that she and Jamie left things was “wrong,” and she actively tries to take steps to “do something right” by inviting Jamie out for a drink at the village pub…which, of course, just so happens to be right below Jamie’s flat. (Victoria Pedretti’s expressions in that scene are so good).

Before we continue, though, let’s pause here a moment to consider some crucial factors in all of this. First, there is a significant difference between “moving through one’s grief” and simply discarding it…or being pressured by someone else to discard it. Second, there is also a significant difference between “moving through one’s grief” and allowing one’s grief to become all-consuming. Keep these distinctions in mind as we go on.

Ultimately, the resolution of the show’s core supernatural conflict involves Dani inviting Viola’s ghost to inhabit her, which Viola accepts. This frees the other spirits who have been caught in Bly Manor’s “gravity well,” even as it dooms Dani to eventually be overtaken by Viola and her rage. Jamie, however, offers to stay with Dani while she waits for this “beast in the jungle” to claim her. The show’s final episode shows the two of them going on to forge a life together, opening a flower shop in a cute town in Vermont, enjoying years of domestic bliss, and later getting married (in what capacities they can—more on this soon), all while remaining acutely aware of the inevitability of Dani’s demise.

The allegorical potentials of this concluding narrative scenario are fairly flexible. It is possible, for instance, to interpret Dani’s “beast in the jungle” as chronic (and/or terminal) illness—in particular, there’re some harrowing readings that we could do in relation to degenerative neurological diseases associated with aging (e.g. dementia, Alzheimer’s, Parkinson’s, progressive supranuclear palsy, etc.), especially if we put the final episode into conversation with the show’s earlier subplot about the death of Owen’s mother, its recurring themes of memory loss as a form of death (or, even, as something worse than death), and Jamie’s resonant remarks that she would rather be “put out of her misery” than let herself be “worn away a little bit every day.” For the purposes of this analysis, though, I’m primarily concerned with interpreting Viola’s lurking presence in Dani’s psyche as a stand-in for severe grief, trauma, and mental illness. …Because, even as we may “move through” grief and trauma, and even as we may work to heal from them, they never just go away completely—they’re always lurking around, waiting to resurface. (In fact, the final minutes of the last episode feature a conversation between older Jamie and Flora about contending with this inevitable recurrence of grief). Therapy can give us tools to negotiate and live with them, of course; but that doesn’t mean that they’re not still present in our lives. The tools that therapy provides are meant to help us manage those inevitable resurfacings in healthy ways. But they are not meant to return us to some pre-grief or pre-trauma state of “normality” or to make them magically dissipate into the ether, never to return. And, even with plenty of therapy and with healthy coping mechanisms, we can still experience significant mental health issues in the wake of catastrophic grief, loss, and trauma; therapy doesn’t totally preclude that possibility.

In light of my own experiences with personal tragedy, crumbling mental health, and the dissolution of a romantic partnership with someone who couldn’t accept the presence of grief in my life, I was immediately enamored with the ways that Jamie approaches the enduring aftereffects of Dani’s trauma during the show’s final episode. Jamie never once pressures Dani to just be “normal.” She never once issues any judgment about what Dani is experiencing. At those times when Dani’s grief and trauma do resurface—when the beast in the jungle catches up with her—Jamie is there to console her, often with the strategies that have always worked in their relationship: gentle, playful ribbing and words of affirmation. There are instances in which Dani doesn’t emote joyfulness during events that we might otherwise expect her to—consider, for instance, how somber Dani appears in the proposal scene, in contrast to Jamie’s smiles and laughter. (In the year after my brother’s death, my ex-fiancé and his family would observe that I seemed gloomy in situations that they thought should be fun and exciting. “Then why aren’t you smiling?” they’d ask, even when I tried to assure them that I was having a good time, but just couldn’t completely feel that or express it in the ways that I might’ve in the past). Dani even comments on an inability to feel that is all too reminiscent of the blunting of emotions that can happen in the wake of acute trauma: “It’s like I see you in front of me and I feel you touching me, and every day we’re living our lives, and I’m aware of that. But it’s like I don’t feel it all the way.” But throughout all of this (and in contrast to my own experiences with my ex), Jamie attempts to ground Dani without ever invalidating what she’s experiencing. When Dani tells her that she can’t feel, Jamie assures her, “If you can’t feel anything, then I’ll feel everything for the both of us.”

A few days after I finished the show for the first time, I gushed to a friend about how taken I was with the whole thing. Jamie was just so…not what I had experienced in my own life. I loved witnessing a representation of such a supportive and understanding partner, especially within the context of a sapphic romance. After breaking up with my own ex-fiancé, I’ve since come to terms with my sexuality and am still processing through the roles that compulsory heterosexuality and internalized homophobia have played in my life; so Dani and Jamie’s relationship has been incredibly meaningful for me to see for so, so many reasons.

“I’m glad you found the show so relatable,” my friend told me. “But,” she cautioned, “don’t lose sight of what Dani does in that relationship.” Then, she pointed out something that I hadn’t considered at all. Although Jamie may model the possibilities of a supportive partnership, Dani’s tragic death espouses a very different and very troubling perspective: the poisonous belief that I’m inevitably going to hurt my partner with my grief and trauma, so I need to leave them before I can inflict that harm on them.

Indeed, this is a deeply engrained belief that I hold about myself. While I harbor a great deal of anger at my ex-fiancé for how he treated me, there’s also still a part of me that sincerely believes that I nearly ruined his and his family’s lives by bringing such immense devastation and darkness into it. On my bad days (which are many), I have strong convictions about this in relation to my future romantic prospects as well. How could anyone ever want to be with me? I wonder. And even if someone eventually does try to be with me, all I’ll do is ruin her life with all my trauma and sadness. I shouldn’t even want to be with anyone, because I don’t want to hurt someone else. I don’t want someone else to deal with what I’ve had to deal with. I even think about this, too, with my friends. Since my brother’s death and my breakup, I’ve gone through even more trauma, pain, grief, and loss, such that now I continue to struggle enormously with issues like anhedonia, emotional fragility, and social anxiety. I worry, consequently, that I’m just a burden on my friends. That I’m too hard to be around. That being around me, with all of my pain and perpetual misfortune, just causes my friends pain, too. That they’re better off not having to deal with me at all. I could spare them all, I think, by just letting them go, by not bothering them anymore.

I suspect that this is why I didn’t notice any issues with Dani’s behavior at the end of Bly Manor at first. Well…that and the fact that the reality of the show’s conclusion is immensely triggering for me. Probably, my attention just kind of slid past the truth of it in favor of indulging in the catharsis of a sad gay romance.

But after my friend observed this issue, I couldn’t stop thinking about it.

I realized, then, that I hadn’t extended the allegory out to its necessary conclusion…which is that Dani has, in effect, committed suicide in order to—or so she believes, at least—protect Jamie from her. This is the case regardless of whether we keep Viola’s ghost in the mix as an actual, tangible, existing threat within the show’s diegesis or as a figurative symbol of the ways that other forces can “haunt” us to the point of our own self-destruction. If the former, then Dani’s suicide (or the more gentle and elusive description that I’ve seen: her act of “giving herself to the lake”) is to prevent Viola’s ghost from ever harming Jamie. But if the latter, if we continue doing the work of allegorical readings, then it’s possible to interpret Bly’s conclusion as the tragedy of Dani ultimately succumbing to her mental illness and suicidal ideation.

The problems with this allegory’s import really start cropping up, however, when we consider the ways that the show valorizes Dani’s actions as an expression of ultimate, self-sacrificing love—a valorization that Bly accomplishes, in particular, through its sustained contrasting of love and possession.

The Implications of Idealizing Self-Sacrifice as True Love

During a pivotal conversation in one of the show’s early episodes, Dani and Jamie discuss the “wrong kind of love” that existed between Rebecca Jessel and Peter Quint. Jamie remarks on how she “understands why so many people mix up love and possession,” thereby characterizing Rebecca and Peter’s romance as a matter of possession—as well as hinting, perhaps, that Jamie herself has had experiences with this in her own past. After considering for a moment, Dani agrees: “People do, don’t they? Mix up love and possession. […] I don’t think that should be possible. I mean, they’re opposites, really, love and ownership.” We can already tell from this scene that Dani and Jamie are, themselves, heading towards a burgeoning romance—and that this contrast between love and possession (and their self-awareness of it) is going to become a defining feature of that romance.

Indeed, the show takes great pains to emphasize the genuine love that exists between Dani and Jamie against the damaging drive for possession enacted by characters like Peter (who consistently manipulates Rebecca and kills her to keep her ghost with him) and Viola (who has killed numerous people and trapped their souls at Bly over the centuries in a long since forgotten effort to reclaim her life with her husband and daughter from Perdita, her murderously jealous sister). These contrasts take multiple forms and emerge from multiple angles, all to establish that Dani and Jamie’s love is uniquely safe, caring, healing, mutually supportive, and built on a foundation of prevailing concern for the other’s wellbeing. Some of these contrasts are subtle and understated. Consider, for instance, how Hannah observes that Rebecca looks like she hasn’t slept in days because of the turmoil of her entanglements with Peter, whereas Jamie’s narration describes how Dani gets the best sleep of her life during the first night that she and Jamie spend together. Note, too, the editing work in Episode 6 that fades in and out between the memories of the destructive ramifications of Henry and Charlotte’s affair and the scenes of tender progression in Dani and Jamie’s romance. Other contrasts, though, are far more overt. Of course, one of the most blatant examples (and most pertinent to this analysis) is the very fact that the ghosts of Viola, Peter, and Rebecca are striving to reclaim the people they love and the lives that they’ve lost by literally possessing the bodies and existences of the living.

The role of consent is an important factor in these ghostly possessions and serves as a further contrast with Dani and Jamie’s relationship. Peter and Rebecca frequently possess Miles and Flora without their consent—at times, even, when the children explicitly tell them to stop or, at the very least, to provide them with warnings beforehand. While inhabiting the children, Peter and Rebecca go on to harm them and put them at risk (e.g. Peter smokes cigarettes while in Miles’s body; Rebecca leaves Flora alone and unconscious on the grounds outside the manor) and to commit acts of violence against others (e.g. Peter pushes Hannah into the well, killing her; Peter and Rebecca together attack Dani and restrain her). The “It’s you, it’s me, it’s us,” conceit—with which living people can invite Bly’s ghosts to possess them, the mechanism by which Dani breaks the curse of Bly’s gravity well—is a case of dubious consent at best and abusive, violent control at worst. (“I didn’t agree,” Rebecca says after Peter leaves her body, releasing his “invited” possession of her at the very moment that the lake’s waters start to fill her lungs).

Against these selfish possessions and wrong kinds of love, Jamie and Dani’s love is defined by their selfless refusal to possess one another. A key characteristic of their courtship involves them expressing vulnerability in ways that invite the other to make their own decisions about whether to accept and how to proceed (or not proceed). As we discussed earlier, Dani and Jamie’s first kiss happens after Dani opens up about her guilt surrounding her ex-fiancé’s death. Pausing that kiss, Jamie checks, “You sure?” and only continues after Dani answers with a spoken yes. (Let’s also take this moment to appreciate Amelia Eve’s excellent, whispered “Thank fuck,” that isn’t included in Netflix’s subtitles). Even so, Dani frantically breaks away from her just moments later. But Jamie accepts this and doesn’t push Dani to continue, believing, in fact, that Dani has withdrawn precisely because Jamie has pushed too much already. A week later, Dani takes the initiative to advance their budding romance by inviting Jamie out for a drink—which Jamie accepts by, instead, taking Dani to see her blooming moonflowers that very evening. There, in her own moment of vulnerability, Jamie shares her heart-wrenching and tumultuous backstory with Dani in order to “skip to the end” and spare Dani the effort of getting to know her. By openly sharing these difficult details about herself, Jamie evidently intends to provide Dani with information that would help her decide for herself whether she wants to continue their relationship or not.

Their shared refusal to possess reaches its ultimate culmination in that moment, all those years later, when Dani discovers just how close she’s come to strangling Jamie—and then leaves their home to travel all the way back to Bly and drown herself in the lake because she could “not risk her most important thing, her most important person.” Upon waking to find that Dani has left, Jamie immediately sets off to follow her back to Bly. And in an absolutely heartbreaking, beautiful scene, we see Jamie attempting the “you, me, us,” invitation, desperate for Dani to possess her, for Dani to take Jamie with her. (Y’all, I know I’m critiquing this scene right now, but I also fuckin’ love it, okay? Ugh. The sight of Jamie screaming into the water and helplessly grasping for Dani is gonna stay with me forever. brb while I go cry about it again). Dani, of course, refuses this plea. Because “Dani wouldn’t. Dani would never.” Further emphasizing the nobility of Dani’s actions, Jamie’s narration also reveals that Dani’s self-sacrificial death has not only spared Jamie alone, but has also enabled Dani to take the place of the Lady of the Lake and thereby ensure that no one else can be taken and possessed by Viola’s gravity well ever again.

And so we have the show’s ennoblement of Dani’s magnanimous self-sacrifice. By inviting Viola to possess her, drowning herself to keep from harming Jamie, and then refusing to possess Jamie or anyone else, Dani has effectively saved everyone: the children, the restive souls that have been trapped at Bly, anyone else who may ever come to Bly in the future, and the woman she loves most. Dani has also, then, broken the perpetuation of Bly’s cycles of possession and trauma with her selfless expression of love for Jamie.

The unfortunate effect of all of this is that, quite without meaning to (I think? I hope—), The Haunting of Bly Manor ends up stumbling headlong into a validation of suicide as a selfless act of true love, as a force of protection and salvation.

So, before we proceed, I just want to take this moment to say—definitively, emphatically, as someone who has survived and experienced firsthand the ineffably catastrophic consequences of suicide—that suicide is nothing remotely resembling a selfless “refusal to possess” or an act of love. I’m not going to harp extensively on this, though, because I’d rather not trigger myself for a second time (so far, lol) while writing this essay. Just take my fuckin’ word for it. And before anybody tries to hit me with some excuse like “But Squall, it isn’t that the show is valorizing suicide, it’s that Dani is literally protecting Jamie from Viola,” please consider that I’ve already discussed how the show’s depiction of this lent itself to my own noxious beliefs that “all I do is harm other people with my grief, so maybe I should stop talking to my friends so that they don’t have to deal with me anymore.” Please consider what these narrative details and their allegorical import might tell people who are struggling with their mental health—even if not with suicidal ideation, then with the notion that they should self-sacrificially remove themselves from relationships for the sake of sparing loved ones from (assumed) harm.

Okay, that said, now let’s proceed…‘cause I’ve got even more to say, ‘cause the more I mulled over these details, the more I also came to realize that Dani’s self-sacrificial death in Bly’s conclusion also has the unfortunate effect of undermining some of its other (attempted) themes and its queer representation.

What Bly Manor Tries (and Fails) to Say about Grief and Acceptance

Let’s start by jumping back to a theme we’ve already addressed briefly: moving through one’s grief.

The Haunting of Bly Manor does, in fact, have a lot to say about this. Or…it wants to, more like. On the whole, it seems like it’s trying really hard to give us a cautionary tale about the destructive effects of unprocessed grief and the misplaced guilt that we can wind up carrying around when someone we love dies. The show spends a whole lot of time preaching about how important it is that we learn to accept our losses without allowing them to totally consume us—or without lingering around in denial about them (gettin’ some Kübler-Ross in here, y’all). Sadly, though, it does kind of a half-assed job of it…despite the fact that this is a major recurring theme and a component of the characterizations and storylines of, like, most of its characters. In fact, this fundamentally Kübler-Rossian understanding of what it means to move through grief and to accept loss and mortality appears to be the show’s guiding framework. During his rehearsal dinner speech in the first episode, Owen proclaims that, “To truly love another person is to accept that the work of loving them is worth the pain of losing them,” with such eerie resonance—as the camera stays set on Jamie’s unwavering gaze—that we know that what we’re about to experience is a story about accepting the inevitable losses of the people we love.

Bly Manor is chock full of characters who’re stuck in earlier stages of grief but aren’t really moving along to reach that acceptance stage. I mean, the whole cause of the main supernatural haunting is that Viola so ferociously refuses to accept her death and move on from her rage (brought about by Perdita’s resentment) that she spends centuries strangling whoever she comes across, which then effectively traps them there with her. And the other antagonistic ghostly forces, Rebecca and Peter, also obviously suck at accepting their own deaths, given that they actually believe that possessing two children is a perfectly fine (and splendid) way for them to grasp at some semblance of life again. (Actually…the more that I’ve thought about this, the more that I think each of the pre-acceptance stages of grief in Kübler-Ross’s model may even have a corresponding character to represent it: Hannah is denial; Viola is anger; Peter and Rebecca are bargaining; Henry is depression. Just a little something to chew on).

But let’s talk more at-length about this theme in relation to two characters we haven’t focused on yet: Hannah and Henry. For Hannah, this theme shows up in her struggles to accept that her husband, Sam, has left her (Charlotte wryly burns candles in the chapel as though marking his passing, while Hannah seems to be holding out hope that he might return) and in her persistent denial that Peter-as-Miles has killed her. As a ghost, she determinedly continues going about her daily life and chores even as she’s progressively losing her grip on reality. Henry, meanwhile, won’t issue official notifications of Dominic’s death and continues to collect his mail because doing otherwise would mean admitting to the true finality of Dominic’s loss. At the same time, he is so, completely consumed by his guilt about the role that he believes he played in Charlotte and Dominic’s deaths that he’s haunting himself with an evil alter-ego. His overriding guilt and despair also result in his refusal to be more present in Miles and Flora’s lives—even with the knowledge that Flora is actually his daughter.

In the end, both Hannah and Henry reach some critical moments of acceptance. But, honestly, the show doesn’t do a great job of bringing home this theme of move through your grief with either of them…or with anybody else, really. Peter basically winds up bullying Hannah into recognizing that her broken body is still at the bottom of the well—and then she accepts her own death right in time to make a completely abortive attempt at rescuing Dani and Flora. Henry finally has a preternatural Bad Feeling about things (something about a phone being disconnected? whose phone? Bly’s phone? his phone? I don’t understand), snaps to attention, and rushes to Bly right in time to make an equally abortive rescue attempt that leaves him incapacitated so that his not-quite-ghost can hang out with Hannah long enough to find out that she’s dead. But at least he decides to be an attentive uncle/dad to Miles and Flora after that, I guess. Otherwise, Hannah and Henry get handwaved away pretty quickly before we can really witness what their acceptance means for them in any meaningful detail. (I blame this on some sloppy writing and the way-too-long, all-about-Viola eighth episode. And, on that note, what about the “acceptances” of Rebecca, Peter, and Viola there at the end? Rebecca does get an interesting moment of acceptance—of a sort—with her offer to possess Flora in order to experience Flora’s imminent drowning for her, thereby sparing the child by tucking her in a happy memory. Peter just…disappears at the end with some way-too-late words of apology. Viola’s “acceptance,” however, is tricky…What she accepts is Dani’s invitation to inhabit her. More on this later).

Hannah and Henry’s stories appear to be part of the show’s efforts to warn us about the ways that unprocessed, all-consuming grief can cause us to miss opportunities to have meaningful relationships with others. Hannah doesn’t just miss her chance to be with Owen because…well, she’s dead, but also because of her unwillingness to move on from Sam beforehand. Her denial about her own death, in turn, prevents her from taking the opportunity as a ghost to tell Owen that she loves him. Henry, at least, does figure out that he’s about to lose his chance to be a caring parental figure to his daughter and nephew—but just barely. It takes the near-deaths of him and the children to finally prompt that realization.

Of the cast, Dani gets the most thorough and intentional development of this move through your grief theme. And, importantly, she learns this lesson in time to cultivate a meaningful relationship that she could’ve easily missed out on otherwise. As we’ve already discussed, a critical part of Dani’s character arc involves her realization that she has to directly confront Edmund’s death and start absolving herself of her guilt in order to open up the possibility of a romantic relationship with Jamie. In Episode 4, Jamie’s narration suggests that Dani has had a habit of putting off such difficult processes (whether in regards to moving through her grief, breaking off her engagement to Edmund, or coming to terms with her sexuality), as she’s been constantly deferring to “another night, another time for years and years.” Indeed, the show’s early episodes are largely devoted to showing the consequences of Dani’s deferrals and avoidances. From the very beginning, we see just how intrusively Dani’s unresolved guilt is impacting her daily life and functioning. She covers up mirrors to try to prevent herself from encountering Edmund’s haunting visage, yet still spots him in the reflections of windows and polished surfaces. Panic attacks seem to be regular occurrences for her, sparked by reminders of him. And all of this only gets worse and more disruptive as Dani starts acting on her attraction to Jamie.

It's only after Dani decides to begin moving through her grief and guilt that she’s able to start becoming emotionally and physically intimate with Jamie. And the major turning point for this comes during a scene that features a direct, explicit discussion of the importance of accepting (and even embracing) mortality.

That’s right—it’s time to talk about the moonflower scene.

In a very “I am extremely fed up with people not being able to deal with my traumatic past, so I’m going to tell you about all of the shit that I’ve been through so that you can go ahead and decide whether you want to bolt right now instead of just dropping me later on” move (which…legit, Jamie—I feel that), Jamie sits Dani down at her moonflower patch to give her the full rundown of her own personal backstory and worldview. Her monologue evinces both a profound cynicism and a profound valuation of human life…all of which is also suggestive, to me at least, of a traumatized person who at once desperately wishes for intimate connection, but who’s also been burned way too many times (something with which I am wholly unfamiliar, lol). She characterizes people as “exhaustive effort with very little to show for it,” only to go on to wax poetic about how human mortality is as beautiful as the ephemeral buds of a moonflower. This is, in essence, Jamie’s sorta convoluted way of articulating that whole “To truly love another person is to accept that the work of loving them is worth the pain of losing them” idea.

After detailing her own past, Jamie shifts gears to suggest that she believes that cultivating a relationship with Dani—like the devoted work of growing a tropical, transient Ipomoea alba in England—might be worth the effort. And as part of this cultivation work, Jamie then acknowledges Dani’s struggles with her guilt, while also firmly encouraging her to move through it by accepting the beauty of mortality:

“I know you’re carrying this guilt around, but I also know that you don’t decide who lives and who doesn’t. I’m sorry Dani, but you don’t. Humans are organic. It’s a fact. We’re meant to die. It’s natural…beautiful. […] We leave more life behind to take our place. Like this moonflower. It’s where all its beauty lies, you know. In the mortality of the thing.”

After that, Jamie and Dani are finally able to make out unimpeded.

Frustratingly, though, Jamie’s own dealings with grief, loss, and trauma remain terribly understated throughout the show. Her monologue in the moonflower scene is really the most insight that we ever get. Jamie consistently comes off as better equipped to contend with life’s hardships than many of Bly’s other characters; and she is, in fact, the sole member of the cast who is confirmed to have ever had any sort of professional therapy. She regularly demonstrates a remarkable sense of empathy and emotional awareness, able to pick up on others’ needs and then support them accordingly, though often in gruff, tough-love forms. Further, there are numerous scenes in which we see Jamie bestowing incisive guidance for handling difficult situations: the moonflower scene, her advice to Rebecca about contacting Henry after Peter’s disappearance, and her suggestion to Dani that Flora needs to see a psychologist, to name just a few. As such, Jamie appears to have—or, at least, projects—a sort of unflappable groundedness that sets her apart from everyone else in the show.

Bly only suggests that Jamie’s struggles run far deeper than she lets on. There are a few times that we witness quick-tempered outbursts (usually provoked by Miles) and hints of bottled-up rage. Lest we forget, although it was Flora who first found Rebecca’s dead body floating in the water, it was Jamie who then found them both immediately thereafter. We see this happen, but we never learn anything about the impact that this must have had on her. Indeed, Jamie’s exposure to the layered, compounding grief at Bly has no doubt inflicted a great deal of pain on her, suggested by details like her memorialization of Charlotte and Dominic during the bonfire scene. If we look past her flippancy, there must be more than a few grains of truth to that endless well of deep, inconsolable tears—but Jamie never actually shares what they might be. Moreover, although the moonflower scene reveals the complex traumas of her past, we never get any follow-up or elaboration about those details or Dani’s observation of the scar on her shoulder. For the most part, Jamie’s grief goes unspoken.

There’s a case to be made that these omissions are a byproduct of narrator Jamie decentering herself in a story whose primary focus is Dani. Narrator Jamie even claims that the story she’s telling “isn’t really my story. It belongs to someone I knew” (yes, it’s a diversionary tactic to keep us from learning her identity too soon—but she also means it). And in plenty of respects, the telling of the story is, itself, Jamie’s extended expression of her grief. By engaging in this act of oral storytelling to share Dani’s sacrifice with others—especially with those who would have otherwise forgotten—Jamie is performing an important ritual of mourning her wife. Still, it’s for exactly these reasons that I think it would’ve been valuable for the show to include more about the impacts that grief, loss, and trauma had on Jamie prior to Dani’s death. Jamie’s underdevelopment on this front feels more like a disappointing oversight of the show’s writing than her narrator self’s intentional, careful withholding of information. Additionally, I think that Bly leaves Jamie’s grieving on an…odd note (though, yes, I know I’m just a curmudgeonly outlier here). Those saccharine final moments of Jamie filling up the bathtub and sleeping on a chair so that she can face the cracked doorway are a little too heavy-handedly tear-jerking for my liking. And while this, too, may be a ritual of mourning after the undoubtedly taxing effort of telling Dani’s story, it may also suggest that Jamie is demurring her own acceptance of Dani’s death. Is the hand on her shoulder really Dani’s ghost? Or is it Jamie’s own hopeful fabrication that her wife’s spirit is watching over her? (Or—to counter my own point here and suggest a different alternative—could this latter idea (i.e. the imagining of Dani’s ghost) also be another valid manner of “accepting” a loss by preserving a loved one’s presence? “Dead doesn’t mean gone,” after all. …Anyway, maybe I would be more charitable to this scene if not for the hokey, totally out-of-place song. Coulda done without that, seriously).

But let’s jump back to the moonflower scene. For Dani, this marks an important moment in the progression of her own movement through grief. In combination, her newfound readiness to contend with her guilt and her eagerness to grow closer to Jamie enable Dani to find a sense of peace that she hasn’t experienced since Eddie’s death…or maybe ever, really (hang on to this thought for this essay’s final section, too). When she and Jamie sleep together for the first time, not only does Dani actually sleep well, but she also wakes the next morning to do something that she hasn’t done to that point and won’t do again: she comfortably looks into a mirror. (One small qualification to this: Dani does look into her own reflection at the diner when she and Jamie are on their road trip; Viola doesn’t interfere then, but whether this is actually a comfortable moment is questionable). Then, shifting her gaze away from her own reflection, she sees Jamie still sleeping soundly in her bed—and smiles. It’s a fleeting moment of peace. Immediately after that, she spots Flora out the window, which throws everything back into accumulating turmoil. But that moment of peace, however fleeting, is still a powerful one.

However, Bly teases this narrative about the possibilities of finding healing in the wake of traumatic loss—especially through the cultivation of meaningful and supportive relationships with others—only to then totally pull that rug out from under Dani in the final episode.

During that final episode, we see that Dani’s shared life with Jamie has supported her in coming to terms with Viola’s lurking presence, such that “at long last, deep within the au pair’s heart, there was peace. And that peace held for years, which is more than some of us ever get.” But it’s at the exact moment that that line of narration occurs that we then begin to witness Dani’s steady, inexorable decline. Sure, we could say that Dani “accepts” Viola’s intrusions and the unavoidable eventuality that the ghost will seize control of her. But this isn’t a healthy acceptance or even a depiction of the fraught relationships that we can have with grief and trauma as we continue to process them throughout our lives. At all. Instead, it’s a distinctive, destructive sense of fatalism.

“I’m not even scared of her anymore,” Dani tells Jamie as the flooded bathtub spills around them. “I just stare at her and it's getting harder and harder to see me. Maybe I should just accept that. Maybe I should just accept that and go.” Remember way back at the beginning of this essay when I pointed out that there’s a significant difference between “moving through one’s grief” and allowing one’s grief to become all-consuming? Well, by the time we reach the bathtub scene, Dani’s grief and trauma have completely overtaken her. Her “acceptance” is, thus, a fatalistic, catastrophizing determination that her trauma defines her existence, such that she believes that all she has left to do is give up her life in order to protect Jamie from her. For a less ghostly (and less suicidal ideation-y) and more real-life example to illustrate what I’m getting at here: this would be like me saying “I should just accept that I’m never going to be anything other than a traumatized mess and should stop reaching out to my friends so that I don’t keep hurting them by making them deal with what a mess I am.” If I said something like this, I suspect (hope) that you would tell me that this is not a productive acceptance, but a pernicious narrative that only hurts me and the people who care about me. Sadly, though, this kind of pernicious narrative is exactly what we get out of Bly’s ending allegory.

“But Squall,” you may be thinking, “this scene is representing how people who struggle with their mental health can actually feel. This is exactly what it can be like to have severe mental illness, even for folks who have strong support systems and healthy, meaningful relationships. And there’s value in showing that.”

And if you’re thinking that, then first of all—as I have indicated already—I am aware that this is what it can be like. Very aware. And second of all, you make a fair point, but…there are ways that the show could’ve represented this without concluding that representation with a suicide that it effectively valorizes. I’ll contend with this more in the final section, where I offer a few suggestions of other ways that Bly could’ve ended instead.

I just want to be absolutely clear that I’m not saying that I think all media portrayals of mental illness need to be hopeful or wholesome or end in “positive” ways. But what I am saying is that Bly’s conclusion offers a really fuckin’ bleak outlook on grief, trauma, and mental illness, especially when we fit that ending into the framework of the show’s other (attempted) core themes, as well as Dani’s earlier character development. It’s especially bleak to see this as someone with severe mental health issues and who has also lost a loved one to suicide—and as someone who desperately hopes that my life and worldview won’t always stay so darkly colored by my trauma.

Additionally, it’s also worth pausing here to acknowledge that fatalism is, in fact, a major theme of The Beast in the Jungle, the 1903 Henry James novella on which the ninth episode is loosely based. I confess that I’ve only read about this novella, but haven’t read the story itself. However, based on my (admittedly limited) understanding of it, there appears to be a significant thematic rupture between The Beast in the Jungle and The Haunting of Bly Manor in their treatments of fatalism. In the end of the novella, its protagonist, John Marcher, comes to the realization that his fatalism has been a horrible mistake that has caused him to completely miss out on an opportunity for love that was right in front of him all along. The tragic fate to which Marcher believed that he was doomed was, in the end, his own fatalism. Dani, in contrast, never has this moment of recognition, not only because her fatalism leads to her own death, but also because the show treats her fatalism not as something that keeps her from love, but instead as leading her towards a definitive act of love.

All of this is exactly why Dani’s portrayal has become so damn concerning to me, and why I don’t believe that Bly’s allegory of “this is what it’s like to live with mental illness and/or to love (and lose) someone who is mentally ill” is somehow value-neutral—or, worse, something worth celebrating.

How Dani’s Self-Sacrifice Bears on Bly’s Queer Representation

In my dabblings around the fandom so far, I’ve seen a fair amount of deliberation about whether or not Bly Manor’s ending constitutes an example of the Bury Your Gays trope.

Honestly, though, I am super unenthused about rehashing those deliberations or splitting hairs trying to give some definitive “yes it is” or “no it isn’t” answer, so…I’m just not going to. Instead, I’m going to offer up some further observations about how Dani’s self-sacrificial death impinges on Bly’s queer representation, regardless of whether Bury Your Gays is at work here or not.

I would also like to humbly submit that the show could’ve just…not fucked around in proximity of that trope in the first place so that we wouldn’t even need to be having these conversations.

But anyway. I’m going to start this section off with a disclaimer.

Even though I’m leveling some pretty fierce critiques in this section (and across this essay), I do also want to say that I adore that The Haunting of Bly Manor and its creators gave us a narrative that centers two queer women and their romantic relationship as its driving forces and that intentionally sets out to portray the healing potentials of sapphic love as a contrast to the destructive, coercive harms found in many conventional dynamics of hegemonic heteronormativity. I don’t want to downplay that, because I’m extremely happy that this show exists, and I sincerely believe that many elements of its representation are potent and meaningful and amazing. But…I also have some reservations with this portrayal that I want to share. I critique not because I don’t love, but because I do love. I love this show a lot. I love Dani and Jamie a lot. I critique because I love and because I want more and better in future media.

So, that being said…let’s move on to talk about Dani, self-sacrifice, and compulsory heterosexuality.

Well before Dani’s ennobled death, Bly establishes self-sacrifice as a core component of her characterization. It’s hardwired into her, no doubt due to the relentless, entangled educational work of compulsory heterosexuality (comphet) and the aggressive forms of socialization that tell girls and women that their roles in life are to sacrifice themselves in order to please others and to belong to men. Indeed, Episode 4’s series of flashbacks emphasizes the interconnectedness between comphet and Dani’s beliefs that she is supposed to sacrifice herself for others’ sakes, revealing how these forces have shaped who she is and the decisions that she’s made across her life. (While we’re at it, let’s also not lose sight of the fact that Dani’s profession during this time period is one that—in American culture, at least—has come to rely on a distinctively feminized self-sacrificiality in order to function. Prior to becoming an au pair, Dani was a schoolteacher. In fact, in one of Episode 4’s flashbacks, Eddie’s mother points out that she appreciates Dani’s knack for identifying the kids that need her the most, but also reminds Dani that she needs to take care of herself…which suggests that Dani hadn’t been: “Save them all if you can, but put your own oxygen mask on first”).

In the flashback of her engagement party, Dani’s visible discomfort during Edmund’s speech clues us in that she wasn’t preparing to marry him because she genuinely wanted to, but because she felt like she was supposed to. The “childhood sweethearts” narrative bears down on the couple, celebrated by their friends and family, vaunted by cultural constructs that prize this life trajectory as a cherished, “happily ever after” ideal. Further illustrating the pressures to which Dani had been subject, the same scene shows Eddie’s mother, Judy O’Mara, presenting Dani with her own wedding dress and asking Dani to wear it when she marries Eddie. Despite Mrs. O’Mara’s assurances that Dani can say no, the hopes that she heaps onto Dani make abundantly clear that anything other than a yes would disappoint her. Later, another flashback shows Dani having that dress sized and fitted while her mother and Mrs. O’Mara look on and chatter about their own weddings and marriages. Their conversation is imbued with further hopes that Dani’s marriage to Edmund will improve on the mistakes that they made in their lives. Meanwhile, Dani’s attentiveness to the tailor who takes her measurements, compliments her body, and places a hand on her back strongly suggests that Dani is suppressing her attraction to women. Though brief, this scene is a weighty demonstration of the ways that the enclosures of heteronormativity constrain women into believing that their only option is to deny homosexual attraction, to forfeit their own desires in order to remain in relationships with men, and to prioritize the hopes and dreams and aspirations of the people around them above their own.

Dani followed this pathway—determined for her by everyone else except herself—until she couldn’t anymore.

During the flashback of their breakup, Dani explains to Eddie that she didn’t end their relationship sooner because she thought that even just having desires that didn’t match his and his family’s was selfish of her: “I should’ve said something sooner. […] I didn’t want to hurt you, or your mom, or your family. And then it was just what we were doing. […] I just thought I was being selfish, that I could just stick it out, and eventually I would feel how I was supposed to.” As happens to so many women, Dani was on the cusp of sacrificing her life for the sake of “sticking out” a marriage to a man, all because she so deeply believed that it was her duty to satisfy everyone’s expectations of her and that it was her responsibility to change her own feelings about that plight.

And Eddie’s response to this is telling. “Fuck you, Danielle,” he says. “Why are you doing this to me?”

Pay close attention to those last two words. Underline ‘em. Bold ‘em. Italicize ‘em.

“Why are you doing this to me?”

With those two words, Eddie indicates that he views Dani’s refusal to marry him as something that she is doing to him, a harm that she is committing against him. It is as though Dani is inflicting her will on him, or even that she is unjustly attackinghim by finally admitting that her desires run contrary to his own, that she doesn’t want to be his wife. And with this statement, he confirms precisely what she anticipated would happen upon giving voice to her true feelings.

What space did Edmund, his family, or Dani’s mother ever grant for Dani to have aspirations of her own that weren’t towards the preordained role of Eddie’s future wife? Let’s jump back to that engagement party. Eddie’s entire speech reveals a very longstanding assumption of his claim over her as his wife-to-be. He’d first asked Dani to marry him when they were ten years old, after he mistakenly believed that their first kiss could get Dani pregnant; Dani turned him down then, saying that they were too young. So, over the years, as they got older, Eddie continued to repeatedly ask her—until, presumably, she relented. “Now, we’re still pretty young,” he remarks as he concludes his speech, “but I think we’re old enough to know what we want.” Significantly, Eddie speaks here not just for himself, but also for Dani. Dani’s voice throughout the entire party is notably absent, as Eddie and his mother both impose their own wishes on her, assume that she wants what they want, and don’t really open any possibility for her to say otherwise. Moreover, although there’s a palpable awkwardness that accompanies Eddie’s story, the crowd at the party chuckles along as though it’s a sweet, innocent tale of lifelong love and devotion, and not an instance of a man whittling away at a woman’s resistance until she finally caved to his pursuit of her.

All of this suggests that Eddie shared in the socialized convictions of heteropatriarchy, according to which Dani’s purpose and destiny were to marry him and to make him happy. His patterns of behavior evince the unquestioned presumptions of so many men: that women exist in service to them and their wants, such that it is utterly inconceivable that women could possibly desire otherwise. As a political institution, heteropatriarchy tells men that they are entitled to women’s existences, bodies, futures. And, indeed, Eddie can’t seem to even imagine that Dani could ever want anything other than the future that he has mapped out for them. (Oh, hey look, we’ve got some love vs. possession going on here again).

For what it’s worth, I think that the show’s portrayal of compulsory heterosexuality is excellent. I love that the writers decided to tackle this. Like I mentioned at the beginning, I found all of this to be extremelyrelatable. I might even be accused of over-relating and projecting my own experiences onto my readings here, but…there were just too many resonances between Dani’s experiences and my own. Mrs. O’Mara’s advice to Dani to “put your own oxygen mask on first” is all too reminiscent of the ways that my ex’s parents would encourage me to “heal” from my brother’s loss…but not for the sake of my own wellbeing, but so that I would return to prioritizing the care of their son and existing to do whatever would make him happy. I’ll also share here that what drove me to break up with my ex-fiancé wasn’t just his unwillingness to contend with my grief, but the fact that he had decided that the best way for me to heal from my loss would be to have a baby. He insisted that I could counteract my brother’s death by “bringing new life into the world.” And he would not take no for an answer. He told me that if I wouldn’t agree to try to have children in the near future, then he wasn’t interested in continuing to stay with me. It took me months to pluck up the courage, but I finally answered this ultimatum by ending our relationship myself. Thus, like Dani, I came very close to sacrificing myself, my wants, my body, my future, and my life for the sake of doing what my fiancé and his family wanted me to do, all while painfully denying my own attraction to women. What kept me from “sticking it out” any longer was that I finally decided that I wasn’t going to sacrifice myself for a man I didn’t love (and who clearly didn’t love me) and decided, instead, to reclaim my own wants and needs away from him.

For Dani, however, the moment that she finally begins to reclaim her wants and needs away from Eddie is also the moment that he furiously jumps out of the driver’s seat and into the path of a passing truck, which leaves her to entangle those events as though his death is her fault for finally asserting herself.

Of course, the guilt that Dani feels for having “caused” Eddie’s death isn’t justa matter of breaking up with him and thereby provoking a reaction that would prove fatal—it’s also the guilt of her suppressed homosexual desire, of not desiring Eddie in the first place. In other words, internalized homophobia is an inextricable layer of the culpability that Dani feels. Internalized homophobia is also what’s haunting her. As others (such as Rowan Ellis, whose deep dive includes a solid discussion of internalized homophobia in Bly, as well as a more at-length examination of Bury Your Gays than I’m providing here) have pointed out, the show highlights this metaphorically by having Dani literally get locked into a closet with Edmund’s ghost in the very first episode. Further reinforcing this idea is the fact that these spectral visions get even worse as Dani starts to come to terms with and act on her attraction to Jamie, as though the ghost is punishing her for her desires. Across Episode 3, as Dani and Jamie begin spending more time together, Edmund’s ghost concurrently begins materializing in more shocking, visceral forms (e.g. his bleeding hand in Dani’s bed; his shadowy figure lurking behind Dani after she’s held Jamie’s hand) that exceed the reflective surfaces to which he’d previously been confined. This continues into Episode 4, where each of Eddie’s appearances follows moments of Dani’s growing closeness to Jamie. A particularly alarming instance occurs when Dani just can’t seem to pry her gaze away from a dressed-up Jamie who’s in the process of some mild undressing. Finally turning away from Jamie, Dani becomes aware of Eddie’s hands on her hips. It’s a violating reminder of his claims over her, horrifying in its invocation of men’s efforts to coerce and control women’s sexuality.

It is incredibly powerful, then, to watch Dani answer all of this by becoming more resolute and assertive in the expression of her wants and needs. The establishment of her romantic relationship with Jamie isn’t just the movement through grief and guilt that we discussed earlier; it’s also Dani’s defiance of compulsory heterosexuality and her fierce claiming of her queer existence. Even in the face of all that’s been haunting her, Dani initiates her first kiss with Jamie; and Eddie’s intrusion in that moment is only enough to temporarily dissuade her, as Dani follows this up by then asking Jamie out for a drink at the pub to “see where that takes them” (i.e. up to Jamie’s flat to bang, obviously). The peace that Dani finds after having sex with Jamie for the first time is, therefore, also the profound fulfillment of at last having her first sexual experience with a woman, of finally giving expression to this critical part of herself that she’d spent her entire life denying. Compulsory heterosexuality had dictated to Dani that she must self-sacrifice to meet the strictures of heteropatriarchy, to please everyone except herself; but in her relationship with Jamie, Dani learns that she doesn’t have to do this at all. This is only bolstered by the fact that, as we’ve talked about at length already, Jamie is very attentive to Dani’s needs and respectful of her boundaries. Jamie doesn’t want Dani to do anything other than what Dani wants to do. And so, in the cultivation of their romantic partnership, Dani thus comes to value her own wants and needs in a way that she hasn’t before.

The fact that the show nails all of this so fucking well is what makes all that comes later so goddamn frustrating.

The final episode chronicles Dani and Jamie forging a queer life together that the rest of us can only dream of, including another scene of Dani flouting homophobia and negotiating her own internal struggles so that she can be with Jamie. “I know we can’t technically get married,” she tells Jamie when she proposes to her, “but I also don’t really care.” And with her awareness that the beast in the jungle is starting to catch up with her, Dani tells Jamie that she wants to spend whatever time she has left with her.

But then…

A few scenes later—along with a jump of a few years later, presumably—Jamie arrives home with the licenses that legally certify their civil union in the state of Vermont. It’s a monumental moment. In 2000, Vermont became the first state to introduce civil unions, which paved the way for it to later (in 2009) become the first state to pass legislation that recognized gay marriages without needing to have a court order mandating that the state extend marriage rights beyond opposite-sex couples. I appreciate that Bly’s creatorsincorporated this significant milestone in the history of American queer rights into the show. But its positioning in the show also fuckin’ sucks. Just as Jamie is announcing the legality of her and Dani’s civil union and declaring that they’ll have another marriage ceremony soon, we see water running into the hallway. This moves us into that scene with the flooded bathtub, as Jamie finds Dani staring into the water, unaware of anything else except the reflection of Viola staring back at her. Thus, it is at the exact moment when her wife proudly shares the news of this incredible achievement in the struggle for queer rights—for which queer folks have long fought and are continuing to fight to protect in the present—that Dani has completely, hopelessly resigned herself to Viola’s possession.

I want to be careful to clarify here that, in making this observation, I don’t mean to posit some sort of “Dani should have fought back against Viola” argument, which—within the context of our allegorical readings—might have the effect of damagingly suggesting that Dani should have fought harder to recover from mental illness or terminal disease. But I do mean to point out the incredibly grim implications that the juxtaposition of these events engenders, especially when we contemplate them (as we did in the previous section) within the overall frameworks of the show’s themes and Dani’s character development. After all that has come before, after we’ve watched Dani come to so boldly assert her queer desire and existence, it is devastating to see the show reduce her to such a despairing state that doesn’t even give her a chance to register that she and Jamie are now legal partners.

Why did you have to do this, Bly? Why?

Further compounding this despair, the next scene features the resumption of Dani’s self-sacrificial beliefs and behaviors, which results in her demise, and which leaves Jamie to suffer through the devastation of her wife’s death. This resumption of self-sacrifice hence demolishes all of that beautiful work of asserting Dani’s queer existence and learning that she doesn’t need to sacrifice herself that I just devoted two thousand words to describing above.

Additionally, in the end, Dani’s noble self-sacrifice also effects a safe recuperation of heteronormativity…which might add more evidence to a Bury Your Gays claim, oops.

And that is because, in the end, after we see Jamie screaming into the water and Dani forever interred at the bottom of the lake in which she drowned herself, we come to the end of Jamie’s story and return to Bly Manor’s frame narrative: Flora’s wedding.

At the start of the show, the evening of Flora and Unnamed Man’s (Wikipedia says his name is James? idk, w/e) rehearsal dinner provides the occasion and impetus for Jamie’s storytelling. Following dinner, Flora, her fiancé, and their guests gather around a fireplace and discuss a ghost story about the venue, a former convent. With a captive audience that includes her primary targets—Flora and Miles, who have forgotten what happened at Bly and, by extension, all that Dani sacrificed and that Jamie lost so that they could live their lives free of the trauma of what transpired—and with a topically relevant conversation already ongoing, Jamie interjects that she has a ghost story of her own to share…and thus, the show’s longer, secondary narrative begins.

When Jamie’s tale winds to a close at the end of the ninth episode, the show returns us to its frame, that scene in front of the cozy, crackling fire. And it is there that we learn that it is, in fact, Jamie who has been telling us this story all along.

As the other guests trickle away, Flora stays behind to talk to Jamie on her own. A critical conversation then ensues between them, which functions not only as Jamie’s shared wisdom to Flora, but also as the show’s attempt to lead viewers through what they’ve just experienced and thereby impart its core message about the secondary narrative. The frame narrative is, thus, also a direct address to the audience that tells us what we should take away from the experience. By this point, the show has thoroughly established that Jamie is a gentle-but-tough-love, knowledgeable, and trustworthy guide through the trials of accepting grief and mortality, and so it is Jamie who leaves Flora and us, the audience, with the show’s final word about how to treasure the people we love while they are still in our lives and how to grieve them if we survive beyond them. (But, by this point in this essay, we’ve also learned that Bly’s messages about grief and mortality are beautiful but also messy and unconvincing, even with this didactic ending moment).

With all of this in mind, we can (and should) ask some additional questions of the frame narrative.

One of those questions is: Why is the secondary narrative being told from/within this particular frame?

Answering this question within the show’s diegesis (by asking it of the narrator) is easy enough. Jamie is performing a memorialization of Dani’s life and sacrifice at an event where her intended audience happens to be gathered, ensuring that Miles and Flora begin to recognize what Dani did for them in a manner that maybe won’t just outright traumatize them.

Okay, sure, yeah. True. Not wrong.

But let’s interrogate this question more deeply—let’s ask it of the show itself. So, Bly Manor: Why is the secondary narrative being told from/within this particular frame?

We could also tweak this question a bit to further consider: What is the purpose of the frame? A frame narrative can function to shape audiences’ interpretations of and attitudes towards the secondary narrative. So, in this case, let’s make our line of questioning even more specific. What does the frame of Flora’s wedding do for Bly’s audiences?

Crucially, the framing scene at the fireplace provides us with a sense that we’ve returned to safety after the horror of the ghost story we’ve just experienced. To further assure us of this safety, then, Bly’s frame aims to restore a sense of normality, a sense that the threat that has provoked fear in us has been neutralized, a sense of hope that endures beyond tragedy. Indeed, as we fade from the secondary narrative and return to the frame, Jamie’s narration emphasizes how Dani’s selfless death has brought peace to Bly Manor by breaking its cycles of violence and trauma: “But she won’t be hollow or empty, and she won’t pull others to her fate. She will merely walk the grounds of Bly, harmless as a dove for all of her days, leaving the only trace of who she once was in the memory of the woman who loved her most.”

What Dani has accomplished with her self-sacrifice, then, is a longstanding, prevailing, expected staple of Western—and especially American—storytelling: redemption.

American media is rife with examples of this narrative formula (in which an individual must take selfless action—which may or may not involve self-sacrificial death—in order to redeem an imperiled community by restoring a threatened order) to an extent that is kind of impossible to overstate. Variations of this formula are everywhere, from film to television to comics to videogames to news reports. It is absolutely fundamental to our cultural understandings of what “heroism” means. And it’s been this way for, umm…a long time, largely thanks to that most foundational figure of Western myth, some guy who was crucified for everybody’s sins or something. (Well, that and the related popularization of Joseph Campbell’s hero’s journey, but…I’m not gonna go off onto a whole rant about that right now, this essay is already too long as it is).

In Bly Manor, the threatened order is the natural process of death itself, which Viola has disrupted with a gravity well that traps souls and keeps them suspended within physical proximity of the manor. Dani’s invitation to Viola is the initial step towards salvation (although, I think it’s important to note that this is not entirely intentional on Dani’s part. Jamie’s narration indicates that Dani didn’t entirely understand what she was doing with the “It’s you, it’s me, it’s us” invitation, so self-sacrifice was not necessarily her initial goal). It nullifies the gravity well and resumes the passage of death, which liberates all of the souls that have been trapped at Bly and also produces additional opportunities for others’ atonements (e.g. Peter’s apology to Miles; Henry’s guardianship of the children). But it’s Dani’s suicide that is the ultimate completion of the redemptive task. It is only by “giving herself to the lake” that Dani is able to definitively dispel Viola’s threat and confer redemptive peace to Bly Manor.

It’s tempting to celebrate this incredibly rare instance of a queer woman in the heroic-redemptive role, given that American media overwhelmingly reserve it for straight men. But I want to strongly advise that we resist this temptation. Frankly, there’s a lot about the conventional heroic-redemptive narrative formula that sucks, and I’d rather that we work to advocate for other kinds of narratives, instead of just championing more “diversity” within this stuffy old model of heroism. Explaining what sucks about this formula is beyond the purview of this essay, though. But my next point might help to illustrate part of why it sucks (spoiler: it’s because it tends to prop up traditional, dominant structures of power and relationality).

So…What I want us to do is entertain the possibility that Dani’s redemptive self-sacrifice might serve specific purposes for straight audiences, especially in the return to the frame at the end.

Across The Haunting of Bly Manor, we’ve seen ample examples of heterosexuality gone awry. The show has repeatedly called our attention to the flaws and failings of heterosexual relationships against the carefully cultivated safety, open communication, and mutual fulfillment of a queer romance between two women. But, while queer audiences may celebrate this about this show, for straight audiences, this whole situation might just wind up producing anxiety instead—as though heterosexuality is also a threatened order within the world of Bly Manor. More generally, asking straight audiences to connect with a queer couple as the show’s main protagonists is an unaccustomed challenge with which they’re not normally tasked; thus, the show risks leaving this dominant viewer base uncomfortable, threatened, and resentful, sitting with the looming question of whether heterosexuality is, itself, redeemable.

In answer to this, Dani’s self-sacrifice provides multiple assurances to straight audiences. To begin with, her assumption of the traditional heroic-redemptive role secures audiences within the familiar confines of that narrative formula, which also then promises that Dani is acting as a protector of threatened status quos and not as another source of peril. What Bly Manor is doing here is, in effect, acknowledging that it may have challenged (and even threatened) straight audiences with its centerpiece of a queer romance—and that, likewise, queers themselves may be challenging the status quos of romantic partnerships by, for instance, demanding marriage rights and improvements in media representations—while also emphatically reassuring those audiences in the wake of that challenge that Dani and Jamie haven’t created and aren’t going to create too much disturbance with their queerness. They’re really not that threatening, Bly swears. They’re harmless as a dove. They’re wholesome. They’re respectable. They—and queer folks more generally—aren’t going to totally upend everything, really. Look, they’ll even sacrifice themselves to save everyone and redeem imperiled communities and threatened orders—even heterosexuality itself!

A critical step towards achieving this assurance is the leveling of the playing field. In order for the show to neutralize the threat of queerness for straight audiences, comfort them with a return to safety, and promise them that heterosexuality is redeemable, the queer women need to have an on-screen tragic end to their relationship just like all of the straight couples have. And so, Dani must die and Jamie must grieve.

That accomplished, the show then immediately returns to the frame, the scene at the fireplace following Flora’s rehearsal dinner.

There—after we’ve witnessed so much queer joy and queer tragedy crammed into this final episode—we see Flora and her fiancé, bride and groom, sitting together, arms linked, taking in all that Jamie has to tell them. And with this warm, idyllic image of impending matrimony between man and wife, the safety to which straight audiences return in the frame is, therefore, also the safety of a heterosexuality that can find its redemption through Dani’s self-sacrifice. Not only does Dani’s death mean that Flora can live (and go on to marry her perfectly bland, unremarkable husband, all without the trauma of what happened at Bly), but it also means that she—and, with her, straight audiences—can ultimately benefit from the lessons about true love, loss, and grieving that Dani’s self-sacrifice and Jamie’s story bestow.

And so, Bly Manor concludes with a valorization of redemptive self-sacrifice and an anodyne recuperation of heteronormativity, bequeathing Flora with the opportunities to have and to hold the experiential knowledge that Dani and Jamie have provided for her. Here, queer tragedy serves up an educational opportunity for heterosexual audiences in a challengingly “inclusive,” but otherwise essentially non-threatening manner. The ending is a gentle, non-traumatizing, yet frank lesson to heterosexual audiences in the same way that Jamie’s story is a gentle, non-traumatizing, yet frank lesson to Flora.

Did the show’s creators intentionally do all of this to set about providing such assurances to straight audiences? Maybe. Maybe not. I don’t really know—or care! But, especially in light of incidents like the recent “Suletta and Miorine’s relationship is up to interpretation” controversy following the Gundam: Witch from Mercury finale, I absolutely do not put it past media corporations and content creators to very intentionally take steps to prioritize the comfort of straight audiences against the threats of queer love. And anyway, intentional or not, all of this still has effects and implications loaded with meaning, as I have tried to account for here.

Honestly, though, I can’t quite shake the feeling that there’s some tension between Jamie, Owen, and maybe also Henry about Jamie’s decision to publicly share Dani’s story in front of Flora and Miles. Owen’s abrupt declaration that it’s getting late and that they should wrap up seems like an intervention—like he’s been as patient and understanding as he possibly could up to that point, but now, he’s finally having to put a stop to Jamie’s deviance. I can’t help but read the meaningful stares that pass between them at both ends of the frame as a complex mixture of compassion and fraught disagreement (and I wish that the show had done more with this). The scene where Dani and Jamie visit Owen at his restaurant seems to set up the potential for this unspoken dispute. By their expressions and mannerisms (Dani’s stony stare; the protective way that Jamie holds her as her own gaze is locked on Dani), it’s clear that Dani and Jamie are aghast that Flora and Miles have forgotten what happened and that Owen believes that they should just be able to live their lives without that knowledge. And it’s also clear, by her very telling of Dani’s story, that Jamie disagrees with him. Maybe I’m over-imposing my own attitudes here, but I’m left with the impression that Jamie resents the coddling of Miles and Flora just like I’m resenting the coddling of straight audiences…that Jamie resents that she and Dani have had to give up everything so that Miles and Flora can continue living their privileged lives just like I’m resenting the exploitation of queer tragedy for the sake preserving straight innocence. (As Jamie says to Hannah when Dani puts the children to work in the garden: “You can’t give them a pass forever.” Disclaimer: I’m not saying that I want Miles and Flora to be traumatized, but I am saying that I agree with Jamie, because hiding traumatic shit is not how to resolve inter-generational trauma. Anyway—).

Also, I don’t know about y’all, but I find Flora and Jamie’s concluding conversation to be super cringe. Maybe it’s because I’m gay and just have way too much firsthand experience with this sort of thing from my own comphet past, but Flora’s whole “I just keep thinking about that silly, gorgeous, insane man I’m marrying tomorrow. I love him. More than I ever thought I could love anybody. And the crazy thing is, he loves me the same exact amount,” spiel just absolutely screams “woman who is having to do all of the emotional work in her relationship with an absolutely dull, mediocre, emotionally illiterate man and is desperately trying to convince herself that he does, in fact, love her as much as she (believes) that she loves him.”

I feel like this is a parody of straightness?? Is this actually sincere??

This is what Dani gave up her life to redeem??

To me, this is just more bleak shit that Bly leaves us with. It is so painful to watch.

Bless.

Okay, so I know that I said that I wasn’t going to offer a definitive yes or no about whether Bly commits Bury Your Gays with Dani’s death, but…after writing all of this out, I’m honestly kinda leaning towards a yes.

But I’m already anticipating that folks are gonna push back against me on this. So I just want to humbly submit, again, that Bly could have just not done this. It could have just not portrayed Dani’s death at all.

To really drive this point home, then, I’m going to conclude this essay by suggesting just a few ways that The Haunting of Bly Manor could have ended without Dani’s self-sacrificial death—or without depicting her death on-screen at all.

Bly Manor Could Have Ended Differently

Mike Flanagan—creator, director, writer, editor, executive producer, showrunner, etc. of The Haunting of Bly Manor—has stated that he believes that the show’s ending is a happy one.

I, on the other hand, believe that Bly’s ending is…not. In my view, the way that the ending treats Dani is unnecessarily cruel and exploitative. “Happy ending”—really? If I let myself be cynical about it (which I do), I honestly think that Dani’s death is a pretty damn transparent effort to squeeze out some tears with a sloppy, mawkish, feel-good veneer slapped over it. And if we peel back that veneer and look under it, what we find is quite bleak.

To be fair, for a psychological horror show that’s so centrally about grief and trauma, Bly Manor does seem to profess an incredibly strong sense of hopefulness. Underlying the entirety of the show is a profound faith in all the good and beauty that can come from human connection, however fleeting our lives may be—and even if we make a ton of dumb, awful mistakes along the way. If I’m being less cynical about it, I do also think that the show’s ending strives to demonstrate a peak expression of this conviction. But—at least in my opinion—it doesn’t succeed in this goal. In my writing of this essay, I’ve come to believe that the show instead ends in a state of despair that is at odds with what it appears to want to achieve.

So, in this final section, I’m going to offer up a few possibilities for ways that the show could have ended that maybe wouldn’t have so thoroughly undermined its own attempted messages.

Now, if I were actually going to fix the ending of The Haunting of Bly Manor, I would honestly overhaul a ton of the show to arrive at something completely different. But I’m not going to go through all the trouble of rewriting the entire show here, lol. Instead, I’m going to work with most of what’s already there, leading out from Viola’s possession of Dani (even though I don’t actually like that part of the show either – maybe someday I’ll write about other implications of Viola’s possession of Dani beyond these allegorical readings, but not right now). I’m also going to try to adhere to some of the show’s core themes and build on some of the allegorical possibilities that are already in place. Granted, the ideas that I pose here wouldn’t fix everything, by any stretch of the imagination; but they would, at least (I hope), mitigate some of the issues that I’ve outlined over the course of this essay. And one way or another, I hope that they’ll help to demonstrate that Dani’s self-sacrificial death was completely unnecessary. (Seriously, just not including Dani’s death would’ve enabled the show to completely dodge the question of Bury Your Gays and would’ve otherwise gone a long way towards avoiding the problems with the show’s queer representation).

So, here's how this is going to work. First, I’m going to pose a few general, guiding questions before then proposing an overarching thematic modification that expands on an idea that’s already prominent across the show. This will then serve as the groundwork for two alternative scenarios. I’m not going to go super into detail with either of these alternatives; mostly, I just want to demonstrate that the show that could’ve easily replaced the situation leading to Dani drowning herself. (For the record, I also think that the show could’ve benefitted from having at least one additional episode—and from some timing and pacing restructuring otherwise. So, before anybody tries an excuse like “but this wouldn’t fit into the last episode,” I want to urge that we imagine these possibilities beyond that limitation).

Let’s start off by returning to a point that I raised in the earlier conversation about grief and acceptance: the trickiness of Viola’s “acceptance.”

What Viola “accepts” in the end aren’t her losses or her own mortality, but Dani’s desperate, last-ditch-effort invitation to inhabit her. Within the show’s extant ending, Viola never actually comes to any kind of acceptance otherwise. Dani’s suicide effectively forces her dissolution, eradicating her persistent presence through the redemptive power of self-sacrifice. But in all of my viewings of the show and in all of my efforts to think through and write about it, there’s a question that’s been bugging me to no end: Why does Viola accept Dani’s invitation in the first place?

We know that Peter figured out the “it’s you, it’s me, it’s us” trick in his desperation to return to some form of life and to leave the grounds of Bly Manor. But…what is the appeal of it for Viola? How do her own motivations factor into it? For so long, Viola’s soul has been tenaciously persisting at Bly all so that she can repeatedly return to the physical locus of her connection with her husband and daughter, their shared bedroom in the manor. She’s done this for so long that she no longer even remembers why she’s doing it—she just goes back there to grab whatever child she can find and strangles whoever happens to get in her way. So what would compel her to accept Dani’s invitation? What does she get out of it—and what does she want out of it? What does her acceptance mean? And why, then, does her acceptance result in the dissipation of the gravity well?

We can conjecture, certainly. But the show doesn’t actually provide answers to these questions. Indeed, one of the other major criticisms that I have of Bly is that it confines all of Viola’s development to the eighth episode alone. I really think that it needed to have done way more to characterize her threat and at least gestureat her history sooner, rather than leaving it all to that penultimate episode, interrupting and drawing out the exact moment when she’s about to kill Dani. (Like, after centuries of Viola indiscriminately killing people, and with so many ghosts that’ve been loitering around for so long because of that, wouldn’t Bly Manor have rampant ghost stories floating around about it by the time Dani arrives? But there’s only one minor suggestion of that possibility: Henry indicating that he might’ve met a soldier ghost once. That’s it. And on that note, all of the ghosts at the manor needed to have had more screentime and development, really). Further, it’s disappointing that the show devotes that entire eighth episode to accounting for Viola’s motivations, only to then reduce her to Big, Bad, Unspeakable Evil in the final episode, with no rhyme or reason for what she’s doing, all so that she can necessitate Dani’s death.

As we continue pondering these unanswered questions, there’s also another issue that I want to raise, which the show abandons only as an oblique, obscure consideration. And that is: How the hell did Jamie acquire all that extensive knowledge about Viola, the ghosts of the manor, and all that happened, such that she is able to tell Bly’sstory in such rich detail? My own sort of headcanon answer to this is that Viola’s possession of Dani somehow enabled Viola to regain some of her own memories—as well as, perhaps, a more extended, yet also limited awareness of the enduring consciousnesses of the other ghosts—while also, in turn, giving Dani access to them, too. Dani then could have divulged what she learned to Jamie, which would account for how Jamie knows so much. I bring this up because it provides one possible response to the question of “What does Viola get out of her possession of Dani?” (especially given the significant weight that the show places on the retention of one’s memories—more on this in a moment) and because this is an important basis for both of my proposed alternative scenarios.

Before we dig into those alternative scenarios, however, there’s also a thematic modification that I want to suggest, which would help to provide another answer to “What does Viola get out of her possession of Dani?” while also alleviating the issues that lead into the valorization of Dani’s suicide. That thematic modification involves how the show defines love. Although Bly’s sustained contrasts between love and possession have some valuable elements, I think that the ending would’ve benefitted from downplaying the love vs. possession theme (which is where we run into so much trouble with Dani’s self-sacrifice, and which has also resulted in some celebratory conflations between “selflessness” and self-sacrifice that I’ve seen crop up in commentary about the show—but, y’all, self-sacrifice is not something to celebrate in romantic partnerships, so please, please be careful idolizing that) to instead play up a different theme: the idea that love is the experience of feeling such safety and security with another person that we can find opportunities for peace by being with them.

Seeking peace—and people with whom to feel safe enough to share traumas and experience peace—is a theme that already runs rampant across the show, so this modification is really just a matter of accentuating it differently. It’s also closely linked to the moving through grief theme that we’ve already discussed at length, as numerous characters in Bly express desires for solitude with loved ones as a way of finding relief and healing from their pain, grief, and trauma. (And I suspect that I latched onto this because I have desperately wanted peace, calm, and stillness in the midst of my own acute, compounding traumas…and because my own former romantic partner was obviously not someone with whom I felt safe enough to experience the kind of peace that would’ve allowed me to begin the process of healing).

We run into this idea early in the development of Jamie and Dani’s romance, as narrator Jamie explains in the scene leading up to their first kiss, “The au pair was tired. She’d been tired for so long. Yet without even realizing she was doing it, she found herself taking her own advice that she’d given to Miles. She’d chosen someone to keep close to her that she could feel tired around.” Following this moment, at the beginning of Episode 5, narrator Jamie then foregrounds Hannah’s search for peace (“The housekeeper knew, more than most, that deep experience was never peaceful. And because she knew this ever since she’d first called Bly home, she would always find her way back to peace within her daily routine, and it had always worked”), which calls our attention to the ways that Hannah has been retreating into her memory of her first meeting with Owen as a crucial site of peace against the shock of her own death. Grown-up Flora even gushes about “that easy silence you only get with your forever person who loves you as much as you love them” when she’s getting all teary at Jamie about her husband-to-be.

Of course, this theme is already actively at work in the show’s conclusion as well. During her “beast in the jungle” monologue, Dani tells Jamie that she feels Viola “in here. It’s so quiet…it’s so quiet. She’s in here. And this part of her that’s in here, it isn’t…peaceful.” As such, Viola’s whole entire issue is that, after all those centuries, she has not only refused to accept her own death, but she’s likewise never been at peace—she’s still not at peace. Against Viola’s unpeaceful presence, however, Dani does find peace in her life with Jamie…at least temporarily, until Viola’s continued refusal of peace leads to Dani’s self-destructive sense of fatalism. Still, in her replacement of Viola as the new Lady of the Lake, Dani exists as a prevailing force of peace (she’s “harmless as a dove”); however, incidentally, she only accomplishes this through the decidedly non-peaceful, violent act of taking her own life.

But…what if that hadn’t been the case?

What if, instead, the peace that Dani finds in her beautiful, queer, non-self-sacrificing existence with Jamie had also enabled Viola to find some sense of peace of her own? What if, through her inhabitation of Dani, Viola managed to, like…calm the fuck down some? What if Dani’s safety and solitude worked to at least somewhat assuage Viola’s rage—and even guide her towards some other form of acceptance?

Depending on how this developed, the show could’ve borne out the potential for a much more subversive conclusion than what we actually got. Rather than All-Consuming-Evil Viola’s forced dissolution through the violence of Dani’s redemptive self-sacrifice (and its attendant recuperation of heteronormativity), we could’ve instead had the makings of a narrative about sapphic love as a source of healing that’s capable of breaking cycles of violence and trauma. And I think that it would’ve been possible for the show to accomplish this without a purely “happy” ending in which everything was just magically fine, and all the trauma dissipated, and there were no problems in the world ever again. The show could have, in fact, managed this while preserving the allegorical possibilities of Viola’s presence as mental and/or terminal illness.

But, before I can start describing how this could’ve happened, there’s one last little outstanding problem that I need to address. In the video essay that I cited earlier, Rowan Ellis suggests that there are limitations to the “Viola as a stand-in for mental/terminal illness” reading of the show because of the fact that Dani invites Viola into herself and, therefore, willingly brings on her own suffering. But I don’t think that this is quite the case or that it interferes with these allegorical readings. As I’ve already mentioned at various points, Dani doesn’t entirely understand the implications of what she’s doing when she issues her invitation to Viola; and even so, the invitation is still a matter of a dubious consent that evidently cannot be withdrawn once initially granted—at the absolute most generous characterization. Dani’s invitation is a snap decision, a frantic attempt to save Flora after everyone and everything else has failed. Consequently, we don’t necessarily have to construe Viola’s presence in Dani’s life as a matter of Dani “willingly inviting her own suffering,” but can instead understand it as the wounds and traumas that persist after Dani has risked her life to rescue Flora. In this way, the show could have also challenged the traditional heroic-redemptive narrative formula by offering a more explicit commentary on the all-too-often unseen ramifications of selflessly “heroic” actions (instead of just heedlessly perpetuating their glorification and, with them, self-sacrifice). Dani may have saved Flora—but at what cost to herself? What long-term toll might this lasting trauma exact on her?

And with that, we move into my two alternative ending scenarios.

Alternative Ending 1: Progressive Memory Loss

Memory and its loss are such significant themes in Bly Manor that theycould use an essay all their own.

I am, however, going to refrain from writing such an essay at this moment in time (I’m already super tired from writing this one, lol).

Still, the first of my alternative scenarios would bring these major themes full-circle—and would make Jamie eat her words.

In this alternative scenario, Viola would find some sense of peace—even if fraught and, at times, tumultuous—in her possession of Dani. As her rage subsides, she is even able to regain fragmented pieces of her own memory, which Dani is also able to experience. The restoration of Viola’s memory, albeit vague and scattered, leads Dani to try to learn even more about Viola’s history at Bly in an effort to at least partially fill in the gaps. As time goes on, though, Viola’s co-habitation within Dani’s consciousness leads to the steady degradation of Dani’s own memory. The reclamation of Viola’s memories would occur, then, concomitant with a steady erosion of both herself and Dani. Thus, Dani would still undergo an inexorable decline across the show’s ending, but one more explicitly akin to degenerative neurological diseases associated with aging, accentuating the “Viola as terminal illness” allegory while also still carrying resonances of the residual reverberations of trauma (given that memory loss is often a common consequence of acute trauma). Jamie would take on the role of Dani’s caregiver, mirroring and more directly illuminating the role that Owen plays for his mother earlier in the show. By the show’s conclusion, Dani would still be alive, including during the course of the frame narrative.

I mentioned earlier in this essay that I’ve endured even more trauma and grief since my brother’s death and since my breakup with my ex-fiancé. So, I’ll share another piece of it with you now: shortly after my breakup, my dad was diagnosed with one of those degenerative neurological diseases that I listed way back at the very beginning. I moved home not only to get away from my ex, but also to become a caregiver. In the time that I’ve been home, I’ve had no choice but to behold my dad’s continuous, irreversible decline and his indescribable suffering. He has further health issues, including a form of cancer. As a result, he now harbors a sense of fatalism that he’ll never be able to reconcile—he does not have the cognitive capacities to address his despair or turn it into some other form of acceptance. He is merely, in essence, awaiting his death. Hence, fatalism is something that I have had to “accept” as a regular component of my own life. (In light of this situation, you may be wondering if I have thoughts and opinions on medical aid in dying, given all that I have had to say so far about fatalism and suicide. And the answer is yes, I do have thoughts and opinions…but they are complex, and I don’t really want to try to account for them here).

Indeed, I live in a suspended, indefinite state of grieving. Day in and day out, I watch my father perish before my eyes, anticipating the blow of fresh grief that will strike when he dies. I watch my mother’s grief. I watch my father’s grief. He forgets about the symptoms of his disease; he looks up his disease to try to learn about it; he re-discovers his inevitable demise anew; the grieving process restarts again. (“She would wake, she would walk, she would forget […] and she would fade and fade and fade”).

What, then, does acceptance look like when grief is so ongoing and so protracted?

What does acceptance look like in the absence of any possibility of acceptance?

Kübler-Ross’s “five stages of grief” model has been a meaningful guide for countless folks in their efforts to navigate grief and loss. Yet, the model has also been subject to a great deal of critique. Critics have accused the model of, among other things, suggesting that grieving is a linear process, whereby a person moves from one stage to the next and then ends conclusively at acceptance (when grieving is, in fact, an incredibly uneven, nonlinear, and inconclusive process). Relatedly, they have also called attention to the fact that the model commonly gets used prescriptively in ways that usher grieving folks towards the end goal of acceptance and cast judgment on those who do not reach that stage. These are criticisms that I would level at Bly’s application of Kübler-Ross as well. Earlier, we thoroughly covered the show’sissues with grief and acceptance as major themes; but in addition to those issues, Bly alsotends to steer its characters towards abrupt endpoints of acceptance, while doling out punishments to those who “refuse” to accept. At root, there are normative ascriptions at work in the show’s very characterization of deferred acceptance as refusal and acceptance itself as an active choice that one has to make.

This alternative ending, then, would have the potential to challenge and complicate the show’s handling of grief by approaching Jamie’s grieving and Dani’s fatalism from very different angles. As Dani’s caregiver, Jamie would encounter and negotiate grief in ongoing and processual ways, which would continue to evolve as her wife’s condition worsens and her caregiving responsibilities mount, thereby lending new layers of meaning to the message that “To truly love another person is to accept that the work of loving them is worth the pain of losing them.” Dani’s fatalism here could also serve as a different interpretation of James’s Beast in the Jungle; perhaps her sense of fatalism ebbs and flows, morphs and contorts along with the progression of her memory loss as she anticipates the gradual whittling-away of her selfhood—or even forgets that inevitability entirely. Still a tragic, heart-rending ending to the show, this scenario may not have the dramatic force of Jamie screaming into the waters of the lake, but it would be a relatable depiction of the ways that many real-life romances conclude. (And, having witnessed the extent of my mom’s ongoing caregiving for my dad, lemme tell ya: if y’all really want a portrayal of selflessness in romantic partnerships, I can think of nothing more selfless than caring for one’s terminally ill partner across their gradual death).

Additionally, this scenario could allow the show to maintain the frame narrative, while also packing fresh complexities into it.

Perhaps, in this case, Dani is still alive, but Jamie has come to Flora’s wedding alone, leaving Dani with in-home caregivers or within assisted living or some such. She comes there determined to ensure that Miles and Flora regain at least some awareness of what Dani did for them—that they remember her. The act of telling Dani’s story, then, becomes not only the performance of a mourning ritual, but also a vital way of preserving and perpetuating Dani’s memory where both the children and Dani, herself, can no longer remember. To be sure, such purposes already compel Jamie’s storytelling in the show: Narrator Jamie indicates that the new Lady of the Lake will eventually lose her recollection of the life she had with the gardener, “leaving the only trace of who she once was in the memory of the woman who loved her most.” But in the context of a conclusion so focused on memory loss, this statement would take on new dimensions of import. In this way, the frame narrative might also more forcefully prompt us, the audience, to reflect on the waysthat we can carry on the memories of our loved ones by telling their stories—and also, maybe, the responsibilities that we may have to do so. “Almost no one even remembers how she was when her mind hadn’t gone,” Jamie remarks after returning from Owen’s mother’s funeral, a subtle indictment of just how easily we can lose our own memories of those who suffer from conditions like dementia—how easily we can fail to carry on the stories of the people they were before and to keep their memories alive. (“We are all just stories in the end,” Olivia Crain emphasizes during the eulogy for Shirl’s kitten in The Haunting of Hill House. In fact, there’re some interesting comparative analyses we could do about storytelling and the responsibilities incumbent on storytellers between these two Flanagan shows).

Along those lines, I think that this would’ve been an excellent opportunity for the show to exacerbate and foreground those latent tensions between Jamie and Owen (and maybe also Henry) about whether to share Dani’s story with the now-adult children.

In the show’s explorations of memory loss, there’re already some interesting but largely neglected undercurrents churning around about the idea that maybe losing one’s memory isn’t just a curse or a heartbreaking misfortune (as it is for Viola, the ghosts of Bly Manor, and Owen’s mother), but can, in certain circumstances, be a blessing. Bly implies—via Owen and the frame narrative—that Miles and Flora have been able to flourish in their lives because they have forgotten what happened at Bly and still remain blissfully unaware of it…which, to be clear, is only possible because of the sacrifices that Dani and Jamie have made. But this situation raises, and leaves floating there, a bunch of questions about the responsibilities we have to impart traumatic histories to younger generations—whether interpersonally (e.g. within families) or societally (e.g. in history classrooms). Cycles of trauma don’t end by shielding younger generations from the past; they especially don’t end by forcing impacted, oppressed, traumatized populations (e.g. queer folks) to shoulder the burdens of trauma on their own for the sake of protecting another population’s innocent ignorance. But how do we impart traumatic histories? How do we do so responsibly, compassionately, in ways that respect those harrowing pasts—and those who lived them, those most directly impacted by them—without actively causing harm to receiving audiences? On the other hand, if we over-privilege the innocence of those who have forgotten or those who weren’t directly impacted, what do we lose and what do we risk by not having frank, open conversations about traumatic histories?

As it stands, I think that Bly is remiss in the way it tosses out these issues, but never actually does anything with them. It could have done much, much more. In this alternate ending, then, there could be some productive disagreement among Jamie, Owen, and Henry about whether to tell Flora and Miles, what to tell them, how to tell them. Perhaps, in her seizing of the conversation and her launching of the story in such a public way, Jamie has taken matters into her own hands and has done so in a way that Owen and Henry can’t easily derail. Perhaps Owen sympathizes but does, indeed, abruptly cut her off just before her audience can completely connect the dots. Perhaps Henry is conflicted and doesn’t take a stand—or perhaps he does. Perhaps we find out that Henry had been torn about whether to even invite Jamie because of the possibility of something like this happening. Or, perhaps Henry wants the children to know and believes that they should hear Dani’s story from Jamie. Perhaps we see scenes of past quarrels between Jamie and Owen, Owen and Henry. Perhaps, once the story has ended, we see a brief aftermath conversation between Owen and Jamie about what Jamie has done, their speculations about how it may impact Miles and Flora. Perhaps the show presents these conversations in ways that challenge us to reflect on them, even if it does not provide conclusive answers to the questions it raises, and even if it leaves these conflicts open-ended, largely unresolved.

Alternative Ending 2: Living with the Trauma

If Bly’s creators had wanted Viola’s inhabitation of Dani to represent the ongoing struggles of living—and loving someone—with severe mental illness and trauma, they could have also just…done that? Like, they could have just portrayed Jamie and Dani living their lives together and dealing with Viola along the way. They could have just let that be it. It wouldn’t have been necessary to include Dani’s death within the show’s depicted timeline at all.

The show could’ve more closely aligned its treatment of Dani’s fatalism with James’s Beast in the Jungle—but with, perhaps, a bit more of a hopeful spin. Perhaps, early on, Dani is convinced that her demise is imminent and incontrovertible, much as we already see in the final episode’s diner scene. For a while, this outlook continues to dominate her existence in ways that interfere with her daily functioning and her relationship with Jamie. Perhaps there’s an equivalent of the flooded bathtub scene, but it happens much earlier in the progression of their partnership: Dani despairs, and Jamie is there to reinforce her commitment to staying with Dani through it all, much like her extant “If you can’t feel anything, then I’ll feel everything for the both of us” remarks. But maybe, as a result of this, Dani comes to a realization much like The Beast in the Jungle’s John Marcher—but one that enables her to act on her newfound understanding, an opportunity that Marcher never finds before it’s too late. Maybe she realizes that her fatalism has been causing her to miss out on really, truly embracing the life that she and Jamie have been forging together, thus echoing the show’s earlier points about how unresolved trauma can impede our cultivation of meaningful relationships. Maybe she realizes that her life with Jamie has been passing her by while she’s remained so convinced that Viola will claim that life at any moment. Maybe she comes to understand that her perpetual sense of dread has been hurting Jamie—that Jamie needs her in the same ways that she needs Jamie, but that Dani’s ever-present sense of doom has been preventing her from providing for those needs. And maybe this leads to a re-framing of the “you, me, us,” conceit, with a scene in which Dani acknowledges the extent to which her fatalism has been dictating their lives; in light of this acknowledgement, she and Jamie resolve—together—to continue supporting each other as they navigate Viola’s lasting influences on their lives.

By making this suggestion, I once again do not want to seem like I’m advocating that “Dani should fight back against Viola” (or, in other words, that “Dani should fight harder to win the battle against her mental illness”). But I do want to direct us back to a point that I raised at the very beginning: grieving, traumatized, and mentally ill folks can, indeed, cause harm to our loved ones. Our grief, trauma, and mental illness don’t excuse that fact. But what that means is that we have to take responsibility for our harmful actions. What it absolutely does not mean is that our harms are inevitable or that our loved ones would be better off without us.It means recognizing that we still matter and have value to others, despite the narratives we craft to try to convince ourselves otherwise. It means acknowledging the wounds that fatalistic, “everybody is better without me” assumptions can inflict. It means identifying the ways that we can support and care for our loved ones, even through our own struggles with our mental health.

“Fighting harder to win the battle against mental illness” is a callous and downright incorrect framing of the matter; but there are, nevertheless, intentional steps that we must take to heal from trauma, to receive treatment for our mental illnesses, to care for ourselves, to care for our loved ones. For instance…the very process of writing this essay incited me to do a lot of reflecting on the self-defeating narratives that I have been telling myself about my mental health and my relationships with others. And that, in turn, incited me to do some course-correcting. I thought about how much I want to work towards healing, however convoluted and intricate that process may be. I thought about how I want to support my family. How I want to foster a robust social support network, such that I feel a genuine sense of community. How I want to be an attentive friend. How, someday, if I’m fortunate enough to have a girlfriend, I want to be a caring, present, and equal partner to her; I want to emotionally nourish her through life’s trials and turmoil, not just expect her to provide that emotional nourishment for me. I started writing this essay in August; and since then, because of it, I’ve held myself accountable by reaching out to friends, spending time with them, trying to support them. I’ve also managed to get myself, finally, to start therapy. And my therapist is already helping me address those self-defeating narratives that have led me to believe that I’m just a burden on my friends. So, y’know, I’m workin’ on it.

But it ain’t pretty. And it also ain’t a linear upward trajectory of consistent improvement. It’s messy. Sometimes, frankly, it’s real ugly.

It could be for Dani, too.

Even with her decision to accept the certainties and uncertainties of Viola’s intrusive presence in her life, to live her life as best she can in the face of it all, perhaps Dani still struggles from day to day. Perhaps some days are better than others. Perhaps Viola, as I suggested earlier, begins finding some modicum of peace through her possession of Dani; nonetheless, her rage and disquiet never entirely subside, and they still periodically overtake Dani. Perhaps Dani improves, only to then backslide, only to then find ways to stabilize once again. In this way, the show could’ve more precisely portrayed the muddled, tumultuous lastingness of grief and trauma throughout a lifetime—without concluding that struggle with a valorized suicide.

Such portrayals are not unprecedented in horror. As I contemplated this ending possibility, I couldn’t help but think of The Babadook (2014), another piece of horror media whose monster carries allegorical import as a representation of the endurance and obtrusion of unresolved trauma. The titular monster doesn’t disappear at the film’s end; Sam emphasizes, in fact, that “you can’t get rid of the Babadook.” And so, even after Amelia has confronted the Babadook and locked him in the basement of the family’s home, he continues to lurk there, still aggressive and threatening to overcome her, but able to be pacified with a bowlful of worms. Like loss and trauma, the Babadook can never be totally ignored or dispelled, only assuaged with necessary, recurrent attention and feedings.

Bly could have easily done something similar with Viola. Perhaps, in the same way that Amelia has to regularly provide the Babadook with an offering of worms, Dani must also “feed” Viola to soothe her rage. What might those feedings look like? What might they consist of? Perhaps Viola draws Dani back to Bly Manor, insisting on revisiting those same sites that have held implacable sway over her for centuries. Perhaps these visits are what permit Dani to gradually learn about Viola: who she was, what she has become, why she has tarried between life and death for so long. Perhaps Dani also learns that these “feedings” agitate Viola for a while, stirring her into fresh furor—but that, in their wake, Viola also settles more deeply and for longer periods. Perhaps they necessitate that Dani and Jamie both directly confront their own traumas, bring them to the surface, attend to them. Perhaps, together, they learn how to navigate their traumas in productive, mutually supportive ways. Perhaps this is also what quiets Viola over time, even if Dani is never quite sure whether Viola will return to claim her life.

You may be wondering, then, about what happens with the frame narrative in this scenario. If Dani doesn’t meet some tragic demise, what happens to the role and significance of grieving in the act of Jamie’s storytelling? Would Jamie’s storytelling even occur? Wouldn’t Dani just be at Flora’s wedding, too? Would we miss the emotional gut-punch of the reveal of the narrator’s identity at the end?

Perhaps, in this case, the ending removes some of the weight off of the grief theme to instead foreground those troubled deliberations about how to impart traumatic histories (as we covered in the previous scenario). As such, the frame could feature those conflicts between Jamie (and Dani here too this time), Owen, and Henry concerning whether or not to tell Dani’s story to Miles and Flora. Perhaps Dani decides not to attend the wedding, wary of contributing to this conflict at the scene of what should be a joyous occasion for Flora; perhaps she feels like she can’t even face the children. And then, without Dani there, perhaps an overwrought Jamie jumps into the story when the opportunity presents itself—whether impulsively or premeditatedly.

Or…Perhaps the show could’ve just scrapped the frame at Flora’s wedding and could’ve done something else instead. What might that be? I have no idea! Sky’s the limit.

At any rate, even with these changes, it would’ve still been possible to have the show conclude in a sentimental, tear-jerking way (which seems to be Flanagan’s preference). Perhaps Jamie’s storytelling does spark the return of the children’s memories. Perhaps, as they begin to remember, they reach out to Dani and Jamie, wanting to connect with them, wanting especially to see Dani again. And then, perhaps, the show could’ve ended with a scene of Miles and Flora finally reuniting with Dani—emotional, sweet, and memorable, no valorized suicide or exploitation of queer tragedy needed.

Conclusion

In my writing of this essay—and over the course of the Bly Manor and Hill House rewatches that it inspired—I’ve been finding myself also doing a great deal of reflection about the possibilities and purposes of horror media. I’ve been thinking, in particular, about the potential for the horror genre to provide contained settings in which we can face and explore our deepest fears and traumas in (relatively) safe, controlled ways. Honestly, I think that this is part of why I enjoy Flanagan’s work so much (even if it also enrages me at the same time). If you’ve read this far, you’ll have seen just how profoundly I relate to so much of the subject matter of The Haunting of Bly Manor. It has been extremely meaningful and valuable for me to encounter the show’s depictions of topics like familial trauma, grief, loss, compulsory heterosexuality, caregiving for aging parents, so on, all of which bear so heavily on my own existence. Bly Manor produced opportunities for me to excavate and dig deeply into the worst experiences of and feelings about my life: to look at them, understand them, and give voice to them, when I’m otherwise inclined to bury them into inconspicuous docility.

Even so, the show does not handle these relatable topics as well as it could have. Flanagan and the many contributors to this horror anthology can’t just preach at us about the responsibilities of storytellers; they, too, have responsibilities as storytellers in the communication of these delicate, sensitive, weighty human experiences. And so, to reinforce a point that I made earlier, this is why I’ve written this extensive critique. It’s not because I revile the show and want to condemn it—it’s because I cherish Bly Manor immensely. It’s because I wanted more out of it. It’s because I want to hold it and its creators accountable. It’s because I want folks to think more critically about it (especially after how close I came to unreflectively accepting its messages in my own initial reception of it).

Television usually doesn’t get me this way. It’s been a long time since I was this emotionally attached to a show. So this essay has been my attempt to honor Bly with a careful, meticulous treatment. I appreciate all of the reflection and self-work that it has inspired me to undertake. I’ve wanted to pay my respects in the best way I know how: with close, thorough analysis.

If you’ve read all this mess, thanks for taking the time to do so. I hope that you’ve been able to get something out of it, too.

Representation matters, y’all.

The end.

#the haunting of bly manor #bly manor #thobm #dani clayton #jamie taylor #dani x jamie #damie #sapphic romance #lesbian romance #mental health #compulsory heterosexuality #queer representation #not a fix-it fic but a fix-it essay

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