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nolita-fairytale · 9 months

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burn your life down | chef luca x fem! reader | part seven

summary: you and luca go to a club opening and take an opportunity to learn more about each other.

warnings: fluff, smut (18+ only), eventual angst not use of y/n, conversations about divorce, slow burn, baby, second person pov, swearing, danish inaccuracies, very little connection to the world of the bear.

word count: 5.3k

listen to: the official 'burn your life down' playlist

a/n: hi cuties. here is a long chapter with a whole lot of juicy content considering i've been gone all week. i'm also hard launching what luca's last name could be in this series -- something i've brainstormed with @arctvrvs and @superhoeva. there IS smut so please be respectful of it being 18+ only content.

also: mild implication on reader/mc having some kind of asian heritage, but you can super not take it that way, which is why i wrote joe's family as japanese-english. let me know if you'd like to be added or removed from the taglist!

part six | masterlist | part eight

“Cool shoes,” you say, your eyes fixed to Luca’s choice of Nikes for the night, instantly chuckling to yourself as you realize how silly the words coming out of your mouth sound. It’s like you’re a kid again, sitting on the back of the bus with her crush, trying to come up with something– anything – to say.

Luca chuckles, stealing a glance your way as he replies, “Yeah I've got a bit of a thing for them – trainers.”

“I… noticed,” you say, exchanging a look with him, your eyes meeting his as the two of you sit side by side on the train.

“Oh yeah?” he asks, with a raised eyebrow.

“Well, there’s the coffee table book – that and you wore some to the ballet,” you explain, a blush running across your cheeks.

“You noticed that?” he questions with a hint of amusement in his voice, only a little surprised that you’ve picked up on the little things before he’s shared them with you.

“I notice you,” you answer, your voice quieter, yet genuine in your admission.”

He smirks.

“And?”

“And… so far, I like what I see,” you flirt, boldly, this time.

The right side of his mouth turns up into a small smile, and while you’re too busy reading his facial expressions, Luca’s busy finding your hand with his. You can feel it: the lightest touch that sets off butterflies in your belly, his fingers tangling with yours as you ride the train with him to Vesterbro, the humble beginnings of something good.

As Luca continues glancing over at you, he shakes his head incredulously, letting out a small laugh in the opposite direction.

“Hmm?” you hum, inquisitively, stealing a glance his way this time.

“You just ehm…” he trails off, almost as if he’s not sure how to say what he wants to say next. “... you look… really beautiful tonight.”

“Uh-, I-, Thank you,” you stumble through, deciding you’ll just accept his compliment.

It’s not like you don’t know it – didn’t know what you were doing when you put on the barely-there lace bodysuit meant to be a lingerie teddy, that lays perfectly layered underneath your high rise pair of denim. The plunge neckline is cut deep, showcasing quite a bit of inner boob, so much of your cleavage, that you put pasties on just in case. You can tell Luca’s having trouble not ogling you as you smirk, giving his hand a confident squeeze.

As you get off the train and back up to street level, you discover that it’s not a long walk to where the newly-opened club is located. Luca hasn’t let go of your hand and you savor the feeling of new love as the two of you walk hand in hand.

“So explain to me again what all the drama’s about again,” Luca requests, recalling something you previously mentioned.

“Oh it’s a whole thing,” you sigh, as you begin trying to explain yesterday’s gossip. “The guy Jesper is dating is one of the guys opening the club. I don’t think it’s serious, perhaps just a… fling of sorts, but Jesper’s ex-girlfriend who he dated for two years is a… well, she’s a bit of an influencer and it’s a whole thing because she’ll be there too.”

“Ooof,” Luca sounds, giving you a grateful hand squeeze.

“Yeah. Any ex girlfriends we might run into tonight?” you ask, only half-joking.

Luca shakes his head, “I doubt it. I don’t get out much.” He pauses. “Think my last serious ex-girlfriend moved to Spain a year ago or so.”

You hum in response, momentarily relieved that the likelihood of running into any of Luca’s exes tonight is low, considering it wasn’t something you’d worried about until the words were coming out of your mouth. You’re ready to wait in the line that’s formed outside of the club until you hear the sharp sound of Jesper calling your name, waving you into the club. You watch as he exchanges words with the bartender, while Luca mutters something to you about how fancy he feels about skipping the line.

You and Luca follow Jesper down the long, dark hallway, the feeling of pulsating music and a heavy bassline undulating underneath your feet with each step. It feels more like a grungy club in Berlin than Copenhagen, but it seems like it’s what they’re going for, and you thank your past-self for choosing to wear something this sexy. While you feel out of place, at least you look like you knew what you were getting yourself into.

“I’m glad you made it!” Jesper shouts over the loud music as he leads you and Luca to a table in the VIP area.

“What? Thought I’d skip?” you shout back with a raised eyebrow.

This time, Jesper leans in closer, “Thought you and Prince Charming would have a hard time leaving the bedroom now that you two are-.”

“Jesper!”

“What?” he asks with a shrug, looking from you to Luca, who sends you a quizzical look of his own.

You send him an ‘I’m so sorry’ look before ignoring Jesper’s comment.

“I don’t think I’m drunk enough for this yet,” you say, and you’re only half-joking.

“Can I get you a drink?” Luca asks, overhearing your comment.

“Yes,” you nod, before telling him your drink order.

“Great. I’ll go,” he offers, though it’s more like a confirmation than anything else. He leaves the sweetest peck on your lips, earning a look from Jesper as you watch Luca disappear into the crowd.

“Please don’t tell me you haven’t-,” Jesper groans.

“We haven’t,” you interject, firmly.

“You’ve got more self control than I would,” Jesper sighs, disappointedly as he shakes his head your way.

Before you can reply, a pair of arms are wrapping around you as Mathilde’s voice follows with:

“Jesus Christ! Who said you could be hotter than me at my brother’s fling’s club opening?” Mathilde teases you, giving you a big hug.

“It’s not just a fling!” Jesper protests at the same time as you, replying with: “It’s good to see you too, Mathilde.”

It really had only been a few hours since you closed down the restaurant for the night, but seeing the Mikkelson twins off the clock was a whole other animal. You can imagine a time, when they were both single, that the two of them could have ruled the Copenhagen social scene – two fiery forces to be reckoned with.

“So have we run into the ex-girlfriend yet?” you ask, desperate to get the spotlight off of whether you and Luca had slept together yet.

“Ahhhh,” Mathilde smirks. “No sign yet, but my money is on a fashionably late arrival.”

“What’s the drama? Claudio knows you’re bi. You and Sofia ended on good terms. I don’t get it,” you ask, curiously.

“Because it’s Claudio’s big night. And I don’t want anything to fuck with it,” Jesper begins.

“And because Jesper’s a big drama queen,” Mathilde adds, as her brother glares at her in response.

“Who cares about how the night goes,” you chime in, from the perspective of an optimist.

“So you and Luca…” Mathilde solicits, raising her eyebrows a few times cheekily.

“It’s good,” you guys, a broad smile spreading across your lips. “I mean… it’s really, really good.”

It’s good morning texts. And funny cartoons he sends you from the paper. And using him as a soundboard for new dish ideas.

“I’m proud of you, babe,” Mathilde smiles proudly. “For taking the leap.”

“I-,” you begin, before pausing. “Me too. I’m proud of me too.”

It’s then that you see Luca appear, just at the opening of the VIP area, headed in your direction with Emil following closely behind.

“Hey!” you greet the both of them as they approach. While Luca has your drinks, Emil carries a tray filled with shots that you're not entirely sure you’re ready for. Your eyes widen. “Shots?”

Emil only shrugs, as Jesper corrals you, Luca, and Mathilde for a round of shots. You all pick up the soon-to-be-yours shot glasses, as Luca scoots over so that he stands closely, next to you.

He leans in, the feeling of his lips ghosting over your ear sends a chill down your spine as he murmurs, “How much do you want to bet we’ll regret this tomorrow?”

“Oh, so much,” you answer, turning ever so slightly towards him, your lips inchest away from his.

“To a night of letting loose,” Jesper shouts over the loud music as he begins his toast. “To old friends.” He pauses, toasting his glass towards Luca this time. “And new.”

“Skal!”

“Skal!” you all echo as you cheers.

“Eye contact!” Jesper orders, earning a laugh from you and another questioning look from Luca.

Over the electronic music and flashing laser lights, you take in the sound of shot glasses hitting the table, the faces made in response to the bitter liquid, the whoops and cheers of a triumphant first shot of the night.

You set your shot glass down on the tray along with the other empty ones as Luca asks you:

“Eye contact?”

“Yeah,” you shrug in response, taking a more flirtatious approach as you continue your explanation. “You’ve gotta make eye contact while you cheers or it’s seven years of bad sex.”

“Huh,” Luca smirks in response as you take his hand.

“I think I’m ready for a proper drink now,” you coo, a seductive tone in your voice that Luca hasn’t heard yet.

He likes it. Not just because it’s for him, but because he likes discovering these new parts of you, unraveling you as he goes, finding something different every time.

And the more he learns, the more he likes you.

He really likes you.

Luca is quick to locate where he put your drinks down right before you started taking shots. He hands you yours, then goes for his this time, raising his glass towards you.

“Cheers,” you say with a raise of an eyebrow.

“Cheers,” he replies, clinking his glass with yours with immovable eye contact.

You raise your glass to your lips, taking your first sip, as Luca does the same, holding your gaze the entire time as if it’s a damn promise. Before anything can get too heated (because you swear the way he’s looking at you could start a forest fire) you hear the sound of Mathilde’s voice as she saunters over to the two of you.

“Luca!” you hear her call out. “Come. Have a sit. I want to know everything about you.”

You giggle, watching her usher Luca away so that she can bombard him with questions, and your heart fills with warmth. He’s here – meeting your friends, meeting your people – and you don’t even feel like running in the opposite direction.

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In tandem with the loud, pulsating dance music, you move your hips in a swaying motion, against the feel of Luca’s tall, broad body. You’ve got your arms wrapped around his neck and at this point, you’re quite sure you’ve lost count of the drinks you’ve had.

That anyone’s had, really.

“Have I told you how absolutely ravishing you look tonight?” Luca rasps, leaning down so that the sound he makes vibrates right against your ear.

You let out a gasp, the feel of his body pressed up against yours and the sound of his voice all feel too good.

“I think last time you said ‘beautiful,’” you tease him, playfully.

“Why can’t it be both, darling?” he asks you, grinning down at you.

Instead of answering, you pull him towards you, pressing your mouth to his in a passionate attempt, yet very sloppy, drunk kiss.

Do you want to get out of here? is what you think he’s going to say, but instead, Luca pulls back from the kiss, only to lean in once more as he whispers in your ear:

“Are you hungry?”

You laugh at the unexpected question, and suddenly, it becomes apparent to you that you’re starving.

“Yes. You wanna get out of here?” you ask back.

“Lead the way.”

Knowing it’ll take longer than you’d like for it too, you bypass the idea of trying to find everyone to say goodbye, and skip right to the Irish Goodbye, leading Luca out of the noisy club and back out to the bustling streets that are the red light district. The two of you are blissfully drunk and giggly as you sit on the train, on the way back to your place.

You’re more than grateful that you live so close to the train station, since it’s only a quick walk back to your apartment.

“I can’t believe those girls from the train were only just starting their night’s. Can you believe it?” you ask with a giggle, as Luca follows you up the stairs of your walk up. You fidget with your keys, unlocking the door as you continue on about how you’re not twenty five anymore and tonight’s reminded you that you can barely keep up now.

But Luca doesn’t answer your question.

Instead, as soon as you close the door behind you, he’s pressing you up against it and kissing you like he’s going off to war tomorrow. You sigh his name against his lips as you kiss him back, completely turned on by the brute force of a man as tall as him. Your head spins as you realize that he’s only just started kissing you and he’s already got you this hot and bothered. You can’t tell whether it’s the alcohol, the way his lips move expertly against yours, or the way his hands snake up your torso, inching dangerously close to the exposed skin of your plunging lace teddy.

“Touch me,” you gasp as an encouragement, impatient with the way your nerves seem to be screaming for more of his touch.

“Oh fuck,” he groans, his large hands moving to cover your breasts, only confirming his suspicions that you’ve been braless this whole time.

This new discovery leads to another moan from his mouth as his hands wrap around you, pulling you closer to him. Luca presses his forehead against yours, abruptly breaking the kiss, his breath heavier, more uneven now.

“Fuck, I think I might be too pissed for this,” Luca murmurs, as you try to catch your breath, knowing that he means drunk.

You giggle, as you admit, “That’s-. Yes. I… too am very drunk.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” he starts up again, leaving a small kiss on your lips. “But I’m not sure that’s quite the impression I want to leave on you either.”

“That’s… so respectable,” you say on an exhale, in pure disbelief of how perfect this man is.

“Plus,” he continues, in between kisses as his lips begin to place gentle kisses along your jaw, your neck, your collarbone. “When we do finally sleep together. I want you to remember. Every. Single. Thing. I do to you.”

You’re not sure whether you feel completely sexually frustrated or entirely turned on by how responsible of a decision Luca’s making for the both of you, considering the circumstances. Luca leaves a trail of kisses up your neck once more earning a moan from you as manage to get out:

“Fuck, okay. Just let me cook you something.”

You both laugh as he agrees to the terms of your agreement. You playfully shove Luca off of you, knowing that you won’t be able to function much longer if he stays pressed up against you like this.

“Wait here,” you order, holding up your index finger as if to say, ‘give me a moment,’ before disappearing into your bedroom.

-------------------------------

By the time you emerge from your bedroom, you’ve changed into one of your favorite t-shirts to sleep in – an old, mildly tattered Rolling Stones tee that you once bought at the thrift shop back in college. Luca’s kicked off his shoes and has found a few of your cookbooks that he’s started flipping through as you pull an amalgam of half-full frozen dumpling bags out of your freezer. With your pan on the stovetop preheating, you silently offer Luca a glass of water, before leaving a soft kiss on his lips once more.

You put a little music on, just something soft for the background as you add oil to the increasingly hot pan. Luca hums along with the song that’s playing, cookbook in one hand, glass of water in the other, as he approaches you, making his way to the kitchen island that sits directly across from your gas stove. He settles in, placing both objects down on the counter top as he sits down on the barstool you have tucked underneath the kitchen island.

There’s a quiet intimacy about the way you move around each other, so comfortable, so familiar, even if you’ve only just met within the last few months. The sound of sizzling hot oil as you place the first frozen dumpling down into the pan adds texture to the symphony of your evening: your choice of music, Luca’s soft humming, the way the pan slides against the coils of your gas stove as you shake it.

“Did you grow up cooking like this?” Luca asks, breaking the comfortable silence between you.

“Uh… yes. And also no,” you reply, cryptically, ready to explain more.

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” Luca says with a chuckle. “You know… when I met you. When I first came to the restaurant… I was pleasantly surprised.” He takes a beat, taking a quick sip of water as he explains himself. “It’s just that the whole fusion thing got a little tired, a little too played out, but you seem to have given it new breath… new life.” Luca flips the page of the book he’s been examining.

“And I recall you saying something about an Italian restaurant… so the Asian inspired flavors….”

“Yeah, no, it’s a great question,” you reply, turning to look at him as you let the bottoms of the dumplings crisp up. “So my mom was a single parent – raised me solo. Growing up we ate a lot of easy things… you know, like frozen dumplings… and lots of Stouffer’s lasagnas which… you could say that that combination alone is perhaps the foundation of discovering my culinary voice.”

You chuckle, recalling your childhood memories as you share more.

“So no, I didn’t grow up cooking with her often. We didn’t do the whole… sit around a table and make dumplings for hours kind of thing, but Mom always has a bag of ‘em in the freezer and chili oil on hand. But yes, I grew up cooking like this, more so than anything I do now.”

Luca nods as he listens, his half smile growing as you so openly share about yourself. The way he responds to you – to learning about you – only makes you want to share more. It’s all true… but it’s not the whole story.

“Do you have siblings?” he asks, curiously.

“Nope, just me,” you answer, before deciding that you really do want to answer Luca’s initial question.

“I actually learned a lot of this stuff – about miso, how to make a proper dashi, how to pleat dumplings – from Joe. From his mom,” you hesitate, before pausing.

You want to check in with Luca, searching his face for any kind of reaction, before you proceed to talk about your ex husband considering you were so close to getting naked with him just minutes ago.

“Is it okay… if I talk about him?”

“Yeah,” Luca answers with a shrug, as if it were the simplest answer in the world. “He was a big part of your life – of you. And I like learning about you.”

You accept his answer, trying your best to be cool about the fact that the level of emotional maturity it takes to respond that way really impresses the hell out of you. Realizing that it’s time to add water to your fry pan you turn your back to Luca momentarily once more. You add the smallest bit of water from your drinking glass, a white hot sound filling your ears as the cooking process goes from pan-frying to pan-steaming. You cover the pan tightly with its lid before turning back to Luca.

“Joe’s family… they’re Japanese-English, which is really where I learned to start blending my own stories into food,” you explain, with an honesty that makes you feel incredibly naked right now. “His mom would teach me very traditional Japanese recipes when we first started dating – I think it’s how she knew how to connect with me, how we got to know each other, and I was more than eager to learn. we got to know each other. I… sort of always had a thing for food, for cooking, and learning things I didn’t necessarily learn in my immediate family unit… it was cool, you know? I just, I didn’t think it could really be a career, wasn’t my priority at the time to be an artist as the full-time gig.”

“But the more I learned from her, the more I realized that it wasn’t dissimilar from what I’d learned growing up inside of my best friend’s family’s Italian restaurant. And it all just kind of… grew from there. After Joe and I got divorced, I figured it was now or never, take the leap, do the thing I always wanted to do.”

“Opening a restaurant. That was your dream?” he asks, searching for confirmation. You nod as he smiles proudly.

“And look at you now.”

“Yes,” you chuckle, taking a breath. “Yeah, somehow I now have a whole new life and restaurant in Copenhagen.”

“You do,” Luca nods, admiration evident in his eyes.

You take a beat because the way he looks at you sends another rush through you, and this time, you know it’s not the alcohol.

“While we’re on the subject… What about you? What are your parents like?” you ask, shifting the spotlight over to him this time.

“Well, like you, I grew up mostly with a single mom,” Luca replies, as a flash of recognition flashes through your eyes.

“Mostly?” you question.

“Yeah um..” he trails off.

“We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t-,” you interject.

“No, I-, I want you to know,” he reassures you, a soft look in his eyes that makes you want to trust his word, as if he wants you to know him too.

“Okay,” you say, softly.

You’re not sure a man’s ever let you in like this before and it feels terrifying and electric all at once.

“My full name is Luca Davies-Bernardi,” he starts. “...but I dropped the last part when I turned eighteen.” Luca flips another page over, glancing down quickly before he returns his gaze to yours.

“My mum had me when she was pretty young. Got a bit of the short end of the stick when my dad left her and me. I was… three or four maybe? A real tosser, if you ask me.”

“Woah,” you sound on an exhale, as you listen.

“Yeah,” he scoffs, before continuing.

“He got another woman pregnant. Moved back to Italy instead of staying here with us. Apparently I’ve got a sister, out there… somewhere.”

You wait a beat before asking:

“And he never tried to keep in touch?”

“He tried,” Luca admits, a hint of bitterness in the way the words come out. “But I was a really angry kid. And as I grew older, I just didn’t see the point.”

“I’m sorry,” you apologize, empathetically.

“No it’s-, I dunno,” Luca shrugs. “I much rather put my energy into my relationship with my mum. We’re actually quite close.”

“Yeah?” you ask with a smile, because it really is the most darling thing you’ve ever heard.

“Yeah,” he answers, leaning in to show you the larger forearm piece he has on his left arm. “I got this tattoo for her. She was a nurse… for most of my childhood. It’s what she had to do, so she worked a lot. I had a lot of time on my hands, perhaps why I got into so much trouble as a kid. Really put her through it till I started working in the kitchen.”

“You little rebel, you,” you tease him, with a giggle. Turning your attention back to your stovetop, you remove the lid and the pan for its heat source, before turning off the stove entirely. Giggling again you add, “You know, I’m just trying to picture it.

“Oh, I’m sure I have a few old photos around my flat somewhere,” Luca laughs, as if it’s a promise that he’ll show you someday.

“Your mom sounds like a badass,” you sigh, making your way around your small kitchen island so that you’re standing right in front of him.

“So does yours,” he replies, reaching for your hands.

As your eyes take in the ink that adorns his hands and his arms, you drag your fingertips across the little designs: the A, the scotch bonnet, the nurse tattoo he got for his mother.

“And I like them… your tattoos,” you finally say, breaking the momentary silence between the two of you.

“Oh yeah?” he smirks, his eyes catching yours as you look up at him.

“Yesssss. They are… very sexy,” you smirk in return, biting down on your lower lip as you run your fingertips along his inked forearms.

“Glad you like ‘em. They’re permanent,” he preens, showing off cheekily

“Oh shut up,” you tease him as you place the gentlest peck against his full lips.

He chuckles, pulling you in for another kiss, this time deepening it.

As Luca kisses you, your mind wanders to his choice of words.

Permanent.

Of course it’s too freaking soon to think anything else of it other than this:

If it were up to him, Luca’s not planning on going anywhere anytime soon.

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As the morning light trickles in through your bedroom window, it dawns on you that you are not alone. You blink your eyes open, taking in the image of the gorgeous man that lays beside you.

The one who you ate dumplings with on your couch in the early hours of the morning. The one that fell asleep with you in your bed last night, because there was no way in hell you were letting him walk home at 4 am. The one who's making your heart race and your head spin and who reminds you that there is romance in this world.

Yep, that one.

You slip out of bed, careful not to wake him as you get up to pee, the massive headache a result of far too many drinks consumed last night. You tiptoe into your kitchen, filling up your glasses from last night with fresh water before heading back to the bedroom.

“Good idea,” Luca says, as he notices the glasses of water you return with.

“Sorry, did I wake you?” you ask.

He shakes his head, “It’s alright.”

“Figured they’d be helpful considering neither of us are 21 any more,” you joke in reference to the water, as Luca sits up in your bed.

Handing him his glass, he happily takes it before taking a few greedy sips of water. It’s a silent exchange: he hands you the water glass and you place it back on your bedside table before crawling back into bed with him.

The way you fit curled up against his side feels better than you imagined as he wraps an arm around your shoulders, whispering a soft ‘good morning.’

“Morning,” you reply softly.

You’re not sure how long you lay there, or how long it takes, or who makes the first move, but one minute you’re peacefully snuggled up to Luca’s side, and the next, he’s all over you, rolling you over onto your back as he presses hot kisses to your mouth, to your neck, his hands snaking underneath your favorite Rolling Stones t-shirt as you sigh out his name.

“Luca.”

“Yes, love?”

You repeat your plea from last night – now that neither of you are intoxicated.

“Touch me.”

No longer hesitant, Luca grabs at your breasts, his face buried in your neck as he sucks, kisses, leaves love bites all over you as you arch your chest up into his hands. Large hands cover each breast and you moan as you feel his thumbs graze your nipples, your breathing becoming heavier with each touch.

“God, you’re incredible,” he murmurs into your skin, one hand making its way down your body at a smooth, slow pace. His fingers play with the waistband of your panties, and he knows that he’s got you in the palm of his hand as you’re more than impatient for him to continue his exploration.

“May I?” he asks cooly.

You let out a frustrated moan, anticipating his touch like your life depends on it.

“Please,” you beg, a desperateness in your voice that you’re unfamiliar with.

“Well when you ask so nicely,” Luca smirks, cockily.

You wish you had it in you to roll your eyes, to shake your head, to tell him to shut it, but as soon as his fingers slip into your panties, your mind goes blank. He sighs softly at the feel of you, then puts all of his energy into sliding your panties down your legs, the wet heat of you already slick with desire for him.

“My god,” he groans, as soon as his fingers find the wetness that’s pooled between your legs. “This all for me?”

And you don’t even have it in you to reply, letting out a loud, keening moan as his fingers slide through your folds, parting them as he explores new territory. They move up a few inches, dragging your wetness up and down your core, expertly finding your clit as you hiss in pleasure.

“What do you think?” you bite back, letting out another moan.

Luca smirks, watching as you writhe underneath him, enjoying the way you look at his mercy.

“I think,” he begins, his fingers rubbing circles around your clit, earning a gasp from your mouth. “I know. That this is all for me.”

“Fuck!” you cry out as Luca pushes his index finger into you.

The way you feel stretching around his finger elicits a moan from him too this time.

“You’re so tight, love,” he groans, as if he’s getting off to the idea of you.

You fall into a haze as Luca begins to fuck you with his finger. One. Then two. And before you know it, he’s moving at a rapid pace, his fingers buried deep inside of you, hitting that spongy spot inside of you that has you calling out his name while his thumb comes up to pay close attention to your clit once again. You’re on the edge, ready to come undone, the coil that’s building in your belly ready to burst.

It’s all Luca, and fuck, and I’m so close, and yes right there, are met with groans of your name, eyes that look at you like you’re a work of art, and hands that are intent on bringing you to your climax.

“I want to see you fall apart, love,” Luca commands, his voice low and raspy.

And that’s all it takes for you to cum around his fingers while they work you through your climax so beautifully. You cry out his name, your eyes snapped shut as you experience one of the best orgasms you’ve had in a long time.

“Holy shit,” you pant, trying your best to catch your breath as you come down.

You whimper at the loss of him as he slides his fingers out of you, both hands come up to your torso as he kisses you passionately, deeply, breathlessly.

“C’mon,” he says as he pulls away from the searing kiss, knowing that he is fully in control here.

“Let’s get you some breakfast.”

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a/n: IS EVERYONE DOING OK BC WOW THE SEXUAL TENSION

#chef luca #will poulter #luca the bear #the bear season 2 #the bear headcanon #luca x reader #the bear hulu #the bear fx #the bear fanfiction #chef luca x reader #pastry chef luca #burn your life down

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wondersinwaynemanor · 4 months

Text

Dick finding excuses just to get hugs from his sister and brothers.

Dick groans loudly: Ow, Ow.

when Jason looks up at him from across the couch in the Manor library, Dick closes his eyes

Jason chuckles because he catches this: What's wrong, Dickface?

Dick opens his one eye, pouting at Jason: I already told you I broke my arm, Wiing.

which is true, but his arm has gotten better already. nevertheless, he continues his drama.

Jason: Want me to get you anything for the arm?

Dick opens both of his eyes now, grinning like an idiot: If we sit beside each other, I'm sure I'll feel better.

Jason: You are such a boy scout, Goldie.

Jason stands up with the book on his hand and sits beside Dick which is still far for Dick's liking.

Dick scoots closer to Jason, their arms hitting. after a few seconds, Dick leans even closer and glances at the book that Jason is reading, purposely nudging Jason's arm.

Dick: Watcha reading, Little Wing?

Jason scoffs but he smiles: I know what you're doing, Dick.

Dick: Which is?

Jason: Sheesh, Dickie. If you want a hug, just let me know.

Dick: You're so smart, Little Wing!

Dick wraps his good arm around Jason, trying his very best, with his one arm and with Jason's large frame.

Jason rolls his eyes as he wraps both of his large arms around Dick, carefully avoiding his broken arm.

Dick ends up sleeping with his head on Jason's shoulder. Jason continues to read until Dick would wake up to avoid disturbing his older brother's rest.

Does Dick need to keep pulling out the broken arm strategy? Yes.

Dick: Ow. Ow. *pretends to sniffle and looks at Tim who is at the batcomputer typing something*

Tim turns his chair around: Hey. That arm really hurting, huh?

Dick pouts: Very much so, Timmy. I can't even scratch my back.

Tim takes a sip from his coffee mug before walking to Dick: I got it.

Dick bites his lips to avoid from smiling. This dork doesn't even need his younger brother to scratch his back, but he's so extra.

Tim reaches for Dick's back and before he knows it, Dick is leaning forward and puts his chin on the top of Tim's head.

Dick: Thank you, Baby Bird.

Tim smiles because he knows what Dick is doing. Tim wraps his arms fully around Dick's waist, giving a warm hug to his older brother. Dick hugs back.

Tim: Like I said, I got you, Dick.

Dick: You always do.

Dick peers at the entrance of the dancing room in the Manor, where Cass is currently practicing her routine for her ballet presentation next week.

when Cass is done with a routine, Dick is grinning widely and clapping loudly.

Dick: Wow! Well done, Cass.

Cass bashfully smiles and motions for Dick to come in.

Dick: Are you done practicing for today?

Cass nods.

Dick: Are you tired already? Maybe you can teach me a few steps.

Cass raises her brow : You dance?

Dick: As long as it's with you.

Cass nods enthusiastically and she teaches Dick a few of the ballet moves, the simple ones, which are mostly twirling and such. And how is Dick an acrobat when he keeps falling on his butt? Was he doing this on purpose?

Cass laughs and offers an arm to Dick. Dick takes it and wraps his arm on Cass's back when he stands up.

Dick: Guess I'm clumsy on the dance floor.

Dick doesn't take his arm off Cass by the time they arrive at the door of her bedroom. Cass looks at Dick's arm and then at his face. Cass knows.

before entering her room, she hugs Dick and Dick automatically complies by tightly hugging back.

they were at the movie room, watching The Lion King when Damian received a text from Dick, who was just here a few minutes ago beside him. and the text was just a hug emoji? Damian wonders why the random text from his older brother.

after a few minutes, Dick re enters the movie room with popcorn and cookies and soda.

Damian: Why the random text, Richard?

Dick has the audacity to act oblivious: Huh? *he sits down beside his brother and offers the other container of popcorn* Oops, must be a wrong sent, Dami.

Damian leaves it be. Damian is already aware that Dick always pulls him close whenever they get to hang out, but he senses that the message was for him.

by the time the movie credits are rolling, Damian hugs his older brother because he knows. Dick is taken by surprise, but his heart is warm because he felt like hugging Damian tonight. if he's being honest, it's always.

Damian: Thank you for the movie, Richard.

Dick tightens his arms around his brother's little form: Thank you, Dami.

Damian: And I know the message was intended for me.

Dick laughs and pretends he doesn't know what his little brother is talking about.

#dick is a dork but you love him anyway #big brother dick grayson strikes again #let dick be needy he loves his siblings #batfamily incorrect quotes #incorrect batfamily quotes #dc incorrect quotes #this can also be a prompt ig #batfamily #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #cassandra cain #damian wayne #batman #batkids #batbros

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anton-luvr · 6 months

Note

shotaro x gn reader and they have a sleepover and they do the cutesy norms like makeovers, face masks, watch movies n gossip but then they start playing stuff like 20 questions and things get personal (gn confesses) and shotaro returns his feels and they kiss and it gets a little suggestive????? (if you’re comfortable, ofc!!) 🫶🏽

# SPECIAL SOMEONE.

𖦹 bf!shotaro x gn!reader | fluff & suggestive | friends 2 lovers au

𖦹 note ; first taro fic here!!! also im so sorry for how long this took irene thank u for waiting and always supporting me :( + reqs are CLOSED, soft hours OPEN !!

Sleepovers after exams were tradition for you and Shotaro.

This time round was no different.

After gossiping about the latest drama in your university over Chinese takeaway in his kitchen and throwing a fashion show in his bedroom with almost all of his clothes, the both of you settled down for more calmer activities.

You would usually watch a movie, but Shotaro had been pestering you for weeks to play 20 Questions with him, claiming it was a ‘fun’ game that would allow the both of you to ‘understand each other better’.

So here you were, sitting cross legged across him on his bed while his favorite R&B songs played softly from his speakers.

“Okay, what’s the weirdest dream you’ve ever had?” you ask, looking up from the list of questions he had sent you.

His pretty eyes light up, and he immediately starts rambling excitedly to you about what sounds like a dream of Godzilla doing ballet in New York City.

You’d understand it if you were paying attention, but you just couldn’t help but get distracted.

Shotaro was so effortlessly gorgeous.

His freshly dyed blonde hair suited him so well, a bright color that complimented the shine of love and sincerity in his eyes for those around him. It also made his cherry red lips pop, looking so soft and so plush while he continued talking about his weird dream.

And when he laughed?

It was a melody that you never wanted to stop listening to, a sound that brought out your own smile while your body warmed up at how cute he was.

“Hello? Earth to Y/N?”

Snapping out of your thoughts, you look up from his lips to see him staring at you.

“Are you okay? You kinda spaced out.” he asks, head tilted in confusion.

Embarrassed, you nod your head. “Yeah, sorry I was thinking about something.” you lied, grinning sheepishly.

“It’s okay,” he laughs, flashing you his signature smile. “It's my turn to ask you a question now.”

Neither of you say anything as he scrolls through the questions, pouting in concentration as he tries to pick one.

“Ooh, this one is nice.” he giggles, smirking at you as he puts his phone aside.

“What was your first kiss like?” he asks dramatically, wiggling his eyebrows at you in a teasing manner.

“M-My first kiss?” you sputtered, almost choking on your own spit.

Shotaro hums eagerly.

“Well, I’ve never had one yet.” you admit, laughing awkwardly.

At this, Shotaro waves his hand in the air as if to dismiss what you said. "Nah, no way." he chuckles. "Someone as pretty and as nice as you hasn't had their first kiss yet? Lies."

Your cheeks burn at his compliment, but you shake your head. "I'm serious, Taro." you said.

He blinks in surprise at you, mumbling a soft "Oh."

"Well... then when do you want to have your first kiss?" he asks.

You can only offer a shrug as you sigh, lying down on his bed.

“When I find the right person, I guess.” you mutter.

Shotaro lies down beside you too, propped up by his arm to look at you.

“Anyone particular in mind?” he teases, back to wiggling his eyebrows at you.

Oh, little did he know who it was.

First kisses seemed to be something so special and so intimate to you, so logically, you would want to have your first kiss with someone special.

Someone who truly meant something to you.

And that someone was Shotaro.

He somehow manages to sees things that others don’t, looking out for you in situations that always catches you by surprise.

It could be the jacket that he casually wrapped around you at a party because he noticed the goosebumps on your arms, or the time he got you your favorite pen when it ran out of ink and he saw you using another pen in class.

It could be when he offered to piggyback you across the muddy road after it rained, knowing how much you liked your white sneakers and wouldn’t want them dirty.

It could be in moments like these, where just his smile made you feel like the luckiest person in the world.

“Yeah,” you whisper. “You.”

“M-Me?” Shotaro stutters, eyes wide with surprise while his face flushed a light red.

"Yeah, you. I like you, Taro.” you confess. “You’re the one I’d want to have my first kiss with. It’s fine if you don’t have the same feelings, I just thought I’d let you know.” you add on, smiling softly at the end.

Like the angel he was, you thought Shotaro would reject you nicely, but he proves that idea wrong when he tells you quite the opposite.

“I like you too." he says gently, a dazed smile on his lips.

“No way.” you mumble, frowning suspiciously at him.

“Yes way.” he giggles.

“Let’s have your first kiss, shall we?” is all he says before his lips crash against yours.

You can’t help but smile into the kiss at how right it all feels, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer.

And even though you were inexperienced, you learned quickly from Shotaro. Soon enough, he could taste your vanilla lip balm on his lips, mind spinning from the feeling of your tongue against his.

The kiss eventually deepens, and a heavy desperation for each other starts to make its way into the kiss.

“More?” Shotaro asks as he pulls away, panting and his eyes darkening with need.

“More.” you answer breathlessly, as you tug him back down by his sweater to kiss you.

It’s soon discarded into a corner of Shotaro’s room as you spend the rest of the night intertwined, hands exploring each other and lips never once leaving each other.

Just you and your special someone.

tag list ; @wonbons (comment/drop an ask to be added to tag list!)

#riize #riize fluff #riize fics #riize drabbles #riize imagines #riize shotaro #shotaro riize #shotaro #kpop fics #kpop fluff #riize icons #riize x reader #riize smut

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onlyonetifosi · 8 months

Text

Behind the camera -> chapter 4

<- previous series masterlist my main masterlist next ->

Yn stared at herself in the mirror, her reflection framed by the elegant ballet studio. Her leotard clung to her small frame, a reminder of the grueling practice she had just finished. She wiped a bead of sweat from her brow and took a deep breath. Ballet was her passion, but it wasn't always a serene escape.

The girls from her ballet class had been teasing her since she was three. Now, at eight years old, their barbs were sharper, more targeted. Yn couldn't escape them, not even when she stepped outside the studio. They were in her school, in her life, and it seemed like they existed just to torment her.

"Hey, Yn, did you trip over your own feet again?" One of the girls, Isabelle, sneered.

Yn rolled her eyes. "No, Isabelle, but I heard you tripped over your own ego."

The girls exchanged annoyed glances, clearly taken aback by Yn's quick wit. They weren't used to someone standing up to them.

"You think you're so cool just because your brother is famous," another girl, Margot, chimed in.

Yn clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms. It was true that Charles, her twin brother, had risen to fame as an F1 driver. But she refused to let that define her.

"You're right," Yn replied with a smirk. "I am cool. And not just because of Charles. I'm cool because I don't need to put others down to feel good about myself."

"Tu crois que tu es tellement intelligente, n'est-ce pas?" Sophie snapped back (You think you're so clever, don't you?)

Yn smirked, her confidence unwavering, "Eh bien, au moins plus intelligente que toi à ce stade" (Well, at least smarter than you at this point)

The girls huffed and turned away, clearly frustrated that their usual taunts were having no effect on Yn. This was the dynamic that had been playing out since they were all in diapers, and Yn wasn't about to back down now. As she turned back to the mirror, she caught a glimpse of her twin brother's mischievous grin.

Charles leaned against the doorframe, his eyes sparkling with admiration for his feisty sister. He had always been amazed by Yn's unbreakable spirit. Their bond was more than just that of siblings; it was a partnership built on shared experiences, challenges, and triumphs.

"Ballet class drama again, huh?" Charles asked, walking over to Yn.

Yn shrugged, "Same old, same old. They just can't stand the fact that I exist."

Charles chuckled, "Well, you do have a knack for stealing the spotlight."

Yn rolled her eyes, "Oh please, as if I asked for this."

He ruffled her hair affectionately, "You're handling it like a champ though."

"That's what Leclercs do," Yn replied with a smirk.

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

The next day at school, the torment continued. Yn's friends, were waiting for her, and Joris and Riccardo, flanked her as they walked down the hallway.

"Hey, guys," Yn replied, a genuine smile finally gracing her lips.

Joris playfully punched her shoulder. "Ready for the big history test?"

Yn rolled her eyes playfully. "Of course, I've been studying. Unlike some people I know."

Riccardo joined in the banter. "Well, some of us have other things on our minds, like winning the karting race this weekend."

Yn and Charles walked through the school corridors, their laughter mingling with the familiar buzz of students shuffling between classes. As they reached their lockers, Yn's heart skipped a beat. A knot formed in her stomach when she spotted the group of ballet girls huddled near her locker. Their perfectly coordinated outfits and disdainful expressions were a stark contrast to Yn's casual confidence.

"Tiens, tiens, if it isn't the Leclerc twins," the ringleader of the group sneered, her voice dripping with malice.

Yn's eyes rolled, her lips curling into a sardonic smile. "Oh, great, the mean girls club is in session early today. Should I fetch you all some croissants to complete the picture?"

The girls exchanged baffled glances, momentarily taken aback by Yn's boldness.

"Tu te prends pour qui?" one of them hissed. (Who do you think you are?)

Charles leaned against his locker, an amused grin playing on his lips. He knew better than to underestimate his sister's ability to put people in their place.

"Salut les filles," he chimed in, catching their attention. "Est-ce que vous avez besoin d'une leçon de bonne conduite?" (Hi, girls. Do you need a lesson in good behavior?)

Joris and Riccardo, Yn's two closest friends, joined them, flanking her protectively. Joris crossed his arms, a mockingly stern expression on his face. "Ouais, vous devriez apprendre à respecter les gens, non?" (Yeah, you should learn to respect people, shouldn't you?)

Yn laughed, her confidence growing. "I mean, they don't have the best track record for learning, do they?"

Riccardo joined in, a playful glint in his eyes. "Je suis d'accord. Ils sont plutôt doués pour être idiots." (I agree. They're quite talented at being idiots)

The ballet girls exchanged furious glances, their veneer of superiority cracking under the weight of Yn's retorts and the unified front of her friends.

"Enough of this nonsense" Isabelle snapped, her voice quivering. "Let's go, girls. These losers aren't worth our time"

As the ballet girls stormed away, Yn and her friends burst into laughter, their camaraderie a testament to their unbreakable bond.

"Thanks, guys," Yn said, her heart warmed by their unwavering support.

Joris clapped Yn on the back. "Anytime, Yn. You know we've got your back."

Riccardo nodded "Exactly. And besides, those girls wouldn't know class if it hit them in the face."

Charles grinned and clapped their hands "Well said, both of you"

Yn's gaze softened as she looked at her friends. She was beyond grateful for their presence in her life. Through thick and thin, they had stood by her side, and together, they formed a force to be reckoned with.

"Alright, let's head to class," Charles said, breaking the momentary reverie.

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

Later that afternoon, Yn found herself once again in the ballet studio, surrounded by the polished mirrors and the haunting melody of the piano. As the ballet instructor guided them through the routine, the bullies' harsh whispers echoed in her mind.

"Yn, tu es tellement inutile ici. Personne ne veut de toi dans notre groupe" (Yn, you're so useless here. No one wants you in our group)

A flash of anger surged through Yn's veins, but she suppressed it, focusing on her movements. The dance was her sanctuary, her escape from the world's turmoil. She pirouetted with precision, her determination shining through each graceful step.

After the class, Yn walked out with her head held high, refusing to let the bullies see her falter. As she approached her friends waiting outside, Charles wrapped an arm around her shoulders, a silent gesture of support.

"Comment ça s'est passé?" he asked, concern etched across his features. ("How did it go?")

Yn smiled, leaning into her brother's embrace. "Comme d'habitude. Je danse pour moi, pas pour elles" (As usual. I dance for myself, not for them)

The ballet girls might try to undermine her, but they were no match for her wit and her unshakable friends. After all, she was Yn Leclerc—the sassy bad bitch who never backed down.

taglist: @love4lando @gcldtom @im-mi @topguncultleader@celesteblack08 @reblog-princess @sunf1ower16

#f1 imagine #charles leclerc imagine #behind the camera fic #arthur leclerc imagine #f1 drivers x reader #f1 fic #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #charles leclerc x reader #f2 imagine #arthur leclerc x sister!reader #charles leclerc x sister!reader #charles leclerc #charles leclerc fanfiction #charles leclerc drabble #arthur leclerc x reader

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kemetic-dreams · 10 months

Text

Minnie Julia Riperton Rudolph (November 8, 1947 – July 12, 1979) was an American singer-songwriter best known for her 1975 single "Lovin' You" and her four octave D3 to F♯7 coloratura soprano range. She is also widely known for her use of the whistle register and has been referred to by the media as the "Queen of the Whistle Register."

Minnie Riperton grew up in Chicago's Bronzeville neighborhood on the South Side. As a child, she studied music, drama and dance at Chicago's Lincoln Center. The youngest of eight children in a musical family, she embraced the arts early. Although she began with ballet and modern dance, her parents recognized her vocal and musical abilities and encouraged her to pursue music and voice. At Chicago's Abraham Lincoln Center, she received operatic vocal training from Marion Jeffery. She practiced breathing and phrasing, with particular emphasis on diction. Jeffery also trained Riperton to use her full range. While studying under Jeffery, she sang operettas and show tunes, in preparation for a career in opera. Jeffery was so convinced of her pupil's abilities that she strongly pushed her to further study the classics at Chicago's Junior Lyric Opera.

The young Riperton was, however, becoming interested in soul, rhythm and blues, and rock. In her teen years, she sang lead vocals for the Chicago-based girl group the Gems. Eventually the group became a session group known as Studio Three and it was during this period that they provided the backing vocals on the classic 1965 Fontella Bass hit "Rescue Me".

After graduating from Hyde Park High School (now Hyde Park Academy High School), she enrolled at Loop College and became a member of Zeta Phi Beta sorority. She dropped out of college to pursue her music career.

Her early affiliation with the legendary Chicago-based Chess Records afforded her the opportunity to sing backup for various established artists such as Etta James, Fontella Bass, Ramsey Lewis, Bo Diddley, Chuck Berry and Muddy Waters. While at Chess, Riperton also sang lead for the experimental rock/soul group Rotary Connection, from 1967 to 1971.

On April 5, 1975, Riperton reached the apex of her career with her No. 1 single "Lovin' You". The single was the last release from her 1974 gold album titled Perfect Angel. Riperton's third album, Adventures in Paradise was released in 1975. Despite the R&B hit "Inside My Love", some radio stations refused to play "Inside My Love" due to the lyrics.

Her fourth album for Epic Records, titled Stay in Love (1977), featured another collaboration with Stevie Wonder in the funky disco tune "Stick Together".

In 1978, Richard Rudolph and Riperton's attorney Mike Rosenfeld orchestrated a move to Capitol Records for Riperton and her CBS Records catalog. In April 1979, Riperton released her fifth and final album, Minnie. "Memory Lane" was a hit from the album.

Riperton provided backing vocals on Stevie Wonder's songs "Creepin'" from 1974's Fulfillingness' First Finale and "Ordinary Pain" from 1976's Songs in the Key of Life. In 1977, she lent her vocal abilities to a track named "Yesterday and Karma", on Osamu Kitajima's album, Osamu.

In January 1976, Riperton was diagnosed with breast cancer and, in April, she underwent a radical mastectomy. By the time of diagnosis, the cancer had metastasized and she was given about six months to live. Despite the grim prognosis, she continued recording and touring. She was one of the first celebrities to go public with her breast cancer diagnosis but did not disclose she was terminally ill.

In 1977, she became a spokesperson for the American Cancer Society. In 1978, she received the American Cancer Society's Courage Award, which was presented to her at the White House by President Jimmy Carter.

Riperton died of cancer on July 12, 1979 at the age 31.

During the 1990s, Riperton's music was sampled by many rap and hip-hop artists, including Tupac Shakur, Dr. Dre, A Tribe Called Quest, Blumentopf, The Orb

#african #afrakan #kemetic dreams #africans #afrakans #brown skin #brownskin #african culture #afrakan spirituality #riperton #tupac shakur #dr dre #a tribe called quest #the orb #minnie julia riperton #Minnie Julia Riperton Rudolph

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theharrowing · 6 months

Text

Carnival of Terror 🎪 2: Get lost!

The carnival is in town, and it is unlike anything you have ever experienced. Will you make it out alive?

🎪 Yoongi x Female Reader, Yoongi x Jungkook

🎪 word count: 9.2k

🎪 choose your own adventure, lovers and friends to ???, carnival and circus au, dead dove, horror, possible minor & major character injury & death, supernatural elements & magic realism, nsfw, 21+

🎪 warnings: You remember everything; general feelings of discomfort and creepiness; (fake) graphic gore (the illusion of a body being torn in half and blood flying everywhere); anxiety; Yoongi is a handsy menace; semi-public smut (fingering, cunnilingus, sloppy vaginal sex, cum eating, multiple orgasms); assumption of infidelity (on Yoongi's part); momentary loss of time & disorientation; dubiously consensual hypnosis; magical realism; relationship drama; a bit of a physical altercation; He who has been wronged has been granted a wish. Just one wish.

🎪 note: all of the above details and warnings are subject to change as the story progresses & the readers vote. check the master post for an updated version of the details. although this fic does not deal directly with infidelity, if you are sensitive to that topic, the themes in this chapter might make you uncomfortable.

🎪 beta read by @neoneunnajimin!

🎪 posted oct. 2023 | read on ao3

PREVIOUS | INDEX | NEXT

Welcome back to the Greatest Show in the World!

We left off in the Illusions performance, with Ringmaster Namjoon spinning a terrifying tale, and you choosing heads to remember everything.

Music comes into sharp focus, and your head droops low and then shoots up, eyes focusing on the stage show before you. The song that plays is sensual, and there are three women in white leotards with short, flowing skirts that dance around a man wearing only black pants. They reach for one another, but every time the man almost touches one of the women, she is pulled away by long elastic bands connected to a white harness around their hips, and she spins somewhere high above.

Briefly, you consider turning to Yoongi or Jeongguk to remark on the blend of ballet and acrobatics as the women elongate their limbs and twirl high above your head with grace and fluidity. But you find that all you can do is watch the performers, eyes only moving to follow the lifts, spins, and falls of the women, unable to look anywhere else.

It seems as if this dance is going to be one in which the man chases and chases and never catches, but then he jolts forward and takes one of the women by the wrists, causing you to gasp as the other two women spin high toward the ceiling and do not come back down.

The music swells and builds at an alarming speed as the man begins to spin, holding the woman by the wrist while his feet move in tight, quick circles, around and around and around to the cacophonic sounds of fingers slamming into ivory keys.

You feel dizzy as the woman becomes nothing but a white streak, and you think that you might be able to hear her scream. The pounding of your heart syncs with the quick tempo and rate at which the performers spin.

And then, in a horrifying display, the woman rips clear in half at the ribs. Her waist and legs, trapped in the harness, go flying high above while her top half continues to be spun by the man, and you watch as dark red blood sprays and sprays from her torso, painting the stark white floor in streaks. Your eyes only manage to tear away when Namjoon – who seems to appear in a blink just outside the center of the ring, right in front of you, holds his cane high, forcing your focus on the spinning legs above.

Although it appears to be blood that rains from the ceiling, as soon as it reaches you, you realize that it is blood-red glitter and sequins that shimmer in the light as they cascade down. And then the music bursts loud and abrupt and the legs that spin high above turn into white flower petals that float toward the crowd, dancing in the air as the music slows and slows.

The slow, somber melody gradually stops and you return your gaze to the center of the stage, where the dancers all stand hand in hand. The man and all three women are in a line, and all intact, and they bow and spin and bow over and over, facing each side of the tent, while members of the audience begin to clap.

You feel too stunned to move and yet, your hands lift and clap with the rest, unable to resist joining in. And then Namjoon shouts something you are unable to understand, and with a loud single smack of his hands, you jump, heavy-blinking and looking around you as everyone else seems to be getting their bearings, as well.

"What the fuck was that?" you ask, turning first toward Jeongguk on your right, to glance down at the others, and then to Yoongi on your left.

"Pretty amazing, huh?" Yoongi asks, and although you nod, you are not sure exactly how you feel.

Everything looked so real, and try as you might, you cannot figure out how they managed to rip the woman in half like that. And what was up with the trance-like state you felt? Nothing seems to add up, including Jack appearing out of nowhere and asking you to choose heads or tails.

Heads, you see all; tails, you only remember what feels good.

You chose heads without giving it any thought, despite not fully understanding what his proposition meant. To your right, you can hear Jimin and Taehyung talking about falling glitter, and you wonder if they also chose heads, since they also seem to remember what they just saw.

"Where to, next?" Yoongi asks, voice low and deep, and so close to your ear that it makes you jump.

Yoongi laughs at you, and you shake your head, fixing him with side-eye before turning to the rest of the group and leaning forward to see the others, past Jeongguk.

"Where to, next?" you repeat for the group, waiting for Taehyung and Jimin to finish muttering and turn their attention to you.

"Hall of mirrors!" Jeongguk shouts but he is outnumbered by Jimin and Taehyung who say, "Tunnel of Love!"

"I also vote for Tunnel of Love," Yoongi responds too close for comfort, but this time you ignore him, focusing on how your friends watch you anticipatorily.

"Well," you say, looking to Jeongguk, "since you're outnumbered anyway, how about Tunnel of Love first, then Hall of Mirrors?"

Jeongguk shrugs, for which you are relieved, murmuring, "Whatever. That sounds fine."

All around you, audience members are standing and making their way out, and before you know it, your group is some of the last people in the tent. Instinctively, you glance to the center of the ring, and you are surprised to find Jack – this time dressed in the same black outfit he wore at the rubber ducky game – standing in the center of the floor, facing you.

"So weird," you mutter to yourself, feeling a chill work down your spine as you tear your eyes away from the man in the black jester outfit. You are sure it is just part of their job to be creepy, in order to immerse audience members in the experience, but the way he watches you feels almost menacing.

Yoongi begins to stand, and so you do the same, followed by the rest of the guys. You walk out the way you came in, to the left, past the bleachers, then to the right, and along the back. The inside of the tent is dark enough that when you reach the exit, you find yourself squinting against the sun.

Shimmering in the bright sunlight, covering Yoongi's overgrown, dark hair, are little bits of red glitter, and you chuckle as you reach up and rub your hand over it, causing glitter to burst and fall around his shoulders like dust.

"Whoa!" Jeongguk exclaims, "where did all this come from?"

You turn to find Jeongguk running his hand through his own hair and then looking at the glitter as if he has never seen it before.

"What are you talking about?" you ask, realizing Jimin and Taehyung are also looking at each other's glitter-reddened hair with puzzled expressions.

"I thought it was blue," Taehyung murmurs, to which Jimin says, "Yeah, wasn't the glitter blue? Like rain?"

"Rain?" you ask, confused, trying to remember which part of the show had rain. Could there have been something that you missed while Jack was standing in front of you? But you are sure that he could not have distracted you from too much of the performance.

You open your mouth, but nothing comes out, and you find your lips moving around silent vowels and consonants. Too many sentences fight to be voiced, but you struggle to speak.

"Tunnel of Love is this way," Taehyung says, turning the group's attention to the right.

Although your body moves in line with the others, you almost feel tugged along by some kind of thread, partially dissociated from your skin. Your limbs feel heavy, the sun is hotter than you remember, and you worry you might be on the verge of a panic attack.

An arm slots around your waist from the left, and you breathe in a familiar musk, hoping that it will assist with centering you a little. Yoongi reaches over with his other hand to tap the bird keychain at your hip.

"Such a cute little ducky," he mutters.

You hum in response but feel suddenly snapped out of whatever weird trance you felt under. Perhaps it is the deep, comforting cadence of Yoongi's voice, or the weight of his arm over your shoulder, but you take in a deep breath of fresh air, and when you exhale, you feel much clearer.

"I like it," you respond belatedly, turning your head to smile at Yoongi, who smiles back.

He leans close, lips nearly touching your ear as he says, "I wonder if the Tunnel of Love will be nice and dark."

"Yoongi," you groan, leaning your hip into his as if to push him away, but putting hardly any weight into it. "Can't go one day without being a perv?"

Yoongi chuckles, shaking you with the rise and fall of his shoulders. "Never. I would have my hands and lips on you constantly, if I could."

Although Yoongi speaks quietly, you still clear your throat and look at the three in front of you. Sure, your friends are aware by now that you and Yoongi hook up – you may not have an official title beyond being friends, but there is no question that there are certain benefits the two of you provide one another that are not provided to the others.

At least, as far as you know. There does seem to be some kind of history between Yoongi and Jeongguk, but Yoongi has never mentioned what it entails and you do not feel it is your place to pry.

Still, you wish he would refrain from being so forward in public. If one of the others were to overhear it, you would feel really fucking embarrassed.

As you approach the Tunnel of Love, you see a short queue of people waiting outside. Luckily, there is a little awning over the entrance that provides shade, which you look forward to waiting under. As you approach, you realize this is a water ride, and you feel anxious at the prospect of getting wet.

On the left side of the building is an archway over which the words Tunnel of Love glow in bright red lights, where couples are lined up. As a small canoe-looking boat painted bright blue and pink comes out of a similar tunnel on the far right side of the building, in which a couple sits holding hands and giggling, you watch as the boat pulls around to the entrance and the couple gets out.

A new couple walks up three short steps and gets into the boat with the assistance of an attendant wearing all black, standing on the other side of the narrow water track that loops around.

"I wonder if the three of us will fit in one seat," Jimin says as he turns to assess the odd number of people in your group with a frown.

"I can go alone," Jeongguk responds with a shrug, eyes cast down.

"Tunnel of self love, eh?" Yoongi asks.

Jimin, Taehyung, and Jeongguk all turn in time to watch Yoongi do a jerk-off motion with his hand, and they all roll their eyes. Of the three, Jeongguk seems the least amused.

There is one more couple ahead of your group, and you notice that several minutes pass until another boat comes from the exit. The boats seem to travel rather slowly, but you struggle to figure out how long the ride is. How big could this attraction possibly be?

As the couple in the boat exits and the couple at the front of the line boards, Jimin and Taehyung step up to be next. Jeongguk shifts on his feet, and you consider asking if the group would rather just do Hall of Mirrors, instead.

“Need another?” a friendly voice asks, and you turn to gaze past Yoongi, to where Jack stands in all black. He holds his hands up, causing long, loose black sleeves to fall to his wrists, fabric dangling to the ground as he wiggles his fingers and adds, “I’ll keep my hands to myself.”

Jeongguk chuckles and shakes his head but says, “Sure, fuck it.” When he turns, smile brightening his face, you are a bit surprised to see how welcoming he is. He holds out a hand and says, “Name is Jeongguk.”

Jack lifts his hand and, to your surprise, says, “You can call me Hoseok.”

“Hoseok?” you ask as confusion and discomfort settle in your guts. “I thought you were called Jack.”

Jack or Hoseok, or whoever the man is, turns to you, cocking his head while grinning. The smudged black makeup around his eyes make them seem bright – menacing, almost.

“Jack..” he says, putting emphasis on the k, “…in the box?”

You swallow thickly, looking around at your friends, who watch Hoseok with amused smiles.

“I was going for a jester look,” Hoseok reaches for the long black ears dangling from his hat and tugs them outward, “but that works, too.”

Slowly, he begins to circle you, Yoongi, and Jeongguk, skipping while singing in a nursery rhyme fashion, “Round and round the tarpaulin pole, his hypnosis is feeble—“

You watch as a boat comes out of the tunnel, and briefly, you think there is a look of fear in the eyes of the couple sitting inside. “—but one deep quake is all it takes—“

Hoseok grips onto your shoulders, causing you to jump and scream at the same time he shouts, “—POP! Goes the weasel!”

Your friends laugh. Jimin and Taehyung at least have the decency to give you sympathetic smiles as the couple disembarks the boat and they ready themselves to get on next. You feel the urge to tell your friends not to go on the ride, but decide against it; they would probably think you sound paranoid.

“So jumpy,” Yoongi teases, and you close your eyes tight while taking in a slow, deep breath, resisting the urge to let your anger rise. Of course, you are jumpy; everything about this situation is fucking weird.

“Sorry for causing you a fright, ducky,” Hoseok says, and you exhale, body becoming instantly relaxed.

“It’s fine,” you slur, almost feeling momentarily drunk before everything comes into clear focus.

As Jimin and Taehyung get onto a little yellow and pink wooden boat, Hoseok and Jeongguk step forward, followed by you and Yoongi. Hoseok and Jeongguk talk about something lowly with their heads tilted toward one another, which you are unable to make out.

The sun is hot, making you feel somewhat heavy. "I should get some water," you mumble as you look around, only finding one nearby refreshments stand with a long line.

"We'll get you something when we get out of the ride," Yoongi responds, also glancing around the space as he wraps his arms around you.

Despite Yoongi's heavy arms caging your arms to your sides and his warm body pressing against you, it feels calming to be in his embrace. You tuck your chin in an attempt to curl further into him, both to block yourself from the sun and to inhale more of the familiar musk that soothes you.

Hoseok's voice calls, "Catch you on the other side," and you somewhat lift your head in an attempt to see whether he is on the boat, but even as Yoongi lifts an arm to wave them off, his other holds onto you tight enough that it is difficult for you to move.

"Have fun, lover boys!" Yoongi responds, making you snicker, and when he finally releases his hold on you to step forward in the line, into the shade, you rotate and find the backs of their heads disappearing into the dark entrance.

"What even is a Tunnel of Love?" you ask, getting on your toes to attempt to see into the building. Now that you are closer, you can see that there is a curtain of thin red shimmering strips that hang just past the opening of the entrance, blocking your view. You can, however, make out the fact that in the water, there is a sort of track that must be guiding the small wooden boats, which is how they seem to be moving at a slow, controlled speed.

"It's typically just some stupid animatronics ride, like something you would see at Disney," Yoongi responds in a tone that suggests he is too old for this sort of thing.

You turn to him with your brow knit, playfully glaring as you ask, "Then why did you want to go on it so badly?"

Yoongi's mouth turns sharp and devious, making your eyes widen, "Because…" he drawls slowly, stepping close as if he has a secret that only you are allowed to hear, but then his eyes drift upward, and his smirk turns to a grin.

Before Yoongi has a chance to say, "Whoa!" you have already caught onto the fact that he is distracted by something behind you, and you spin in time to see a boat exit the ride that looks different from the others.

This new boat is white with pink accents and has a sort of awning covering the back, sides, and top of it. You do not see anyone sitting inside until it comes around the little bend and the front of it points toward you. Two women sit very close to one another, appearing somewhat giddy as the boat pulls up to the steps and the two begin to exit.

"We even got a boat with some privacy," Yoongi mutters close enough to send a shiver running down your spine, making you hesitate before walking up the three wooden steps to get onto the ride.

On the other side of the track, the attendant is looking down at his phone. When you come into view, he glances up and says, "Step into the very center and then slowly scoot to the side," before looking down at his device again, as if he cannot be bothered that you are there.

You do as you are told, tentatively at first, feeling your pulse spike when the boat very slightly rocks from your weight. But then you realize it is actually rather steady – held in place, undoubtedly, by the track, and you take a couple slow steps to the center and lower yourself onto the seat.

Yoongi is beside you before you are able to settle in, arm slung over your shoulder and lips already finding your ear lobe with a welcoming groan. The attendant says, "Keep your hands and feet inside the ride at all times," monotone and practiced, and then the boat jerks before you are slowly entering the tunnel.

As the red shimmering strips part around the boat's awning, Yoongi's hand slides up from your knee, not stopping as it slides between your thighs, roughly cupping you over the fabric of your pants.

"Yoongi!" you half whisper, half moan as his fingers rub up and down, pressing firmly enough that you can feel every movement. Your thighs spread instinctively, and you look around at the Alice in Wonderland style scenery of bushes shaped like hearts, dripping with red, pink and white, as if paint had just been splattered over them moments ago. Faux flowers cover the ground and walls, some spinning and swaying to an upbeat song, but all you can hear is the rush of your pulse as Yoongi's fingers begin to undo your pants.

"Need to touch you," Yoongi groans as his teeth gently clamp down on your earlobe and his hand snakes into your pants.

"What if someone sees us?" you whimper, but as you glance around, you realize that there is nobody around to see you but animatronic animals that scurry behind and around all the love-shaped foliage. The lights are dim, and the awning gives you a surprising amount of coverage.

"Who?" Yoongi asks against your neck as his fingers rub circles over the thin fabric of your panties. The sensation makes you tense up and then relax, and although you can see that you are alone, you still feel anxious about being caught.

The boat approaches another doorway, this one covered in strips of shimmering black, and as you enter the even darker room, Yoongi's fingertips push past the hem of your panties, parting your lips as he begins to slowly tease your clit.

"Fuck," you whisper, eyes fluttering closed before you widen them in an attempt to stay aware of your surroundings.

This new room is dark with shimmering stars and an aurora borealis glowing in greens, blues, and yellows on the ceiling. You are unable to clearly make out the rest of the decorations, but there appear to be silhouettes of bushes and trees, only faintly lit up by the lights overhead.

"Mmm, so wet for me," Yoongi groans as his hand forces your thighs to spread just a little more and he plunges two fingers inside you. You whimper as arousal simmers throughout your body, lighting you up like the faux sky above. "Wish I could fucking taste you," he practically growls against your neck, causing you to let out a soft moan.

With a jolt, the boat stops, causing the two of you to gasp. Music still plays overhead, and Yoongi's fingers begin a nice steady pace of fucking into you. Although concern spikes, you settle back against the wooden seat and flutter your eyes closed, attempting to spread your legs a little more.

"Please stay seated," a somewhat robotic female-sounding voice announces, surrounding you from all sides and from above, "the ride will resume momentarily."

Yoongi's fingers leave you, making you whine, and then he sides off the seat and onto the floor. "Get these down to your knees," he instructs, yanking on your pants so forcefully that you squeal and slide nearly off the seat.

"Oh my god," you laugh as your garments are pulled to your knees as promised, and your bare ass settles on the wooden seat. "Yoongi, we can't—" you begin, despite not putting up any resistance and allowing him to hook your legs over his shoulders as his head slides between your thighs, caged in by your pants.

Yoongi's mouth is warm, wet, and heavenly as his tongue rakes over your clit and his lips close in. He sucks hard as his fingers find your entrance and slide in, wasting no time to fuck into you roughly.

You shudder and sigh, doing your best not to make a sound as one hand grips onto the edge of the seat and the other finds purchase in his soft, dark hair. "Yoongi," you whimper as softly as you can, feeling pleasure build and build at breakneck speeds. You're still sensitive from how hard Yoongi fucked you against the shower wall, this morning. Still sore from how he pressed you into your mattress and fucked you until you babbled absolute nonsense for hours last night.

"Please stay seated," the robotic voice calls, once more, "the ride will resume momentarily."

You listen for any voices – any sign that Hoseok and Jeongguk may also be in this room with you – but all you can hear are the twinkling sounds of the soft music playing. Yoongi's fingers and mouth are far too talented, and you chase your high quickly, squelching around him as your hands dig and press desperately.

"Gonna cum?" Yoongi asks, muffled and teasing.

"Yes," you whimper, eager for release as your body sinks further into the seat. "Yes, yes, yes, don't stop."

Yoongi groans and growls between your legs, sounds just loud enough for you to hear – just loud enough to make you shy. Never before has someone absolutely devoured you the way Yoongi does, and you practically feel drunk on how good he is at making you cum. You still find it insane that he has gotten this well-versed with your body after only being friends for a couple of months – only fuck buddies for about three weeks.

The memory of Yoongi's crooked smile luring you into the bathroom at Jimin's end of semester house party flashes through your mind – him pressing you against the tall mirror, hips digging uncomfortably into the sink as you watch his face twist with pleasure while he stretches you on his cock for the first time. The thought of how good he felt has your thighs squeezing around his head and you tremble through an intense wave of orgasm.

Yoongi sucks your clit as you cum, pounding his fingers into you. Above, the robotic voice instructs you to please stay in your seats, but the sound is clouded by your pulse pounding in your ears – covered behind the huffs of air you let out as you desperately attempt not to make a sound.

“Get down here and ride me,” Yoongi groans as he slides his fingers out.

The overhead music suddenly fills your ears, twinkling and melodic, as if the volume has been cranked up. Yoongi yanks on your pants, pulling your right shoe off in a rush.

“What?” you ask, feeling dazed from pleasure. “Yoongi, we can’t—“

“It’s fine,” Yoongi insists, sitting high to slot his lips against yours. “Come on, ducky; be a good girl and sit on my cock.”

Confused by Yoongi calling you ducky, you begin to mutter, “What did you just call—“ but everything feels hazy and twisted, and your body shimmers with desire.

Please stay seated; the ride will resume momentarily.

“Come on, baby,” Yoongi insists, fingers digging into your hips. “I’ll be quick. Just need to feel you.”

“What did you call me?” you ask, head spinning as you slide to the floor of the little wooden boat, no longer partially hidden – not that you care.

Yoongi holds onto your thighs as he lifts you enough to line you up with his cock, right knee digging into the floor of the boat while the left is still covered by your pants. You groan in tandem as he loosens his hold, allowing gravity to assist him in spearing you deep.

“Fuck,” he grits, fingers digging painfully into your sides. “Called you baby. Don’t you like it?”

You want to protest and explain that you don't mean when he called you baby, but your body feels electric, and you lift and drop your hips eagerly, feeling Yoongi stretch your already aching cunt. The little wooden boat creaks and whines with each of your movements, but it only slightly sways; whatever track it is attached to holds it tightly in place.

"This is exactly what I need," Yoongi mutters, head lolling back. "Your pussy is so good, baby."

Although his voice is barely above a whisper, you feel shy at the thought that someone could be able to see or hear you. You have already surmised that there does not seem to be another boat in the same room, but what if there is an attendant somewhere in the shadows?

You even glance around in the dark, feeling paranoia spike. Yoongi drives his hips upward hard enough to make you gasp – nearly making you moan before you catch yourself and swallow back the sound.

Please stay seated; the ride will resume momentarily.

Yoongi wraps his arms around you, clinging tight and burying his face against your neck. You hardly hear him say, "Won't last, baby," muffled against your skin.

"Wait," you moan, suddenly hit with the realization that Yoongi is going to cum soon. "You're not wearing a condom."

"It's fine," Yoongi slurs, shaking his head.

"Yoongi!" you whisper-shout, slowing your hips uselessly as he bucks his upward to make up for lost movement. "I don't want to be gushing with cum all day."

With a low moan, Yoongi's arms squeeze you tighter. "Love your filthy fucking mouth, baby."

You smack Yoongi on the shoulder and somewhat weakly attempt to lift your hips all the way up. You are not trying to stop him, so much as slow him down, but he seems too lost in bliss to get the hint as his hands slide down and grip onto your thighs, lifting you and pushing you down in time with his upward thrusts.

"Swallow it, then," Yoongi suggests with a crooked smile.

With one more smack to his shoulder, you lift your hips all the way up. Yoongi groans impatiently and makes a feeble attempt to push you back down, but does not put up a real fight.

"Jerk off into your hand and throw it in the water," you suggest through a bit of laughter.

"Swallow it," Yoongi tries once more, whining through his words while his hands work over his slick length.

Please stay seated; the ride will resume momentarily.

Your legs feel weak as you get back up onto the seat – bare ass on wood that has begun to go cold in the absence of your warmth. Yoongi continues to jerk himself off with one hand, while he leans forward and spreads your thighs with his other.

"Look how messy you are," he says as his fingertips probe at your lips and hole, making you tremble as you only spread enough for him to see. You want to put your clothing back in order before the ride resumes again; there is no telling how many more weird rooms there are to this attraction, and you do not want to be caught with your ass out. Yoongi leans forward, stumbling on his knees as his head falls between your thighs. "Need one more taste."

"Yoongi," you groan through a smile, looking around nervously, seeing nothing in the dark but shimmering stars.

Yoongi's lips and tongue make sloppy work on your cunt, but it feels good. Not good enough to make you cum, but good enough to make you melt back into the seat and spread just a little further for him.

You close your eyes and melt a little deeper into the feeling. For just a moment, you even allow yourself to imagine that you could really be his. Not just his fuck buddy who is kept at arm's length despite how openly flirtatious he is around his friends. No more hearing, "We can't keep doing this, baby," and, "This has to be the last time."

There is definitely someone else in Yoongi's life. Nobody has so much as said it, but you have suspected it, all along. You wonder how he manages to get away with fucking you without your mutual friends knowing about it when he makes his attraction to you so obvious.

Please stay seated; the ride will resume momentarily.

You are penetrated once more, and it takes a moment for you to realize Yoongi is standing over you with your legs slung over his hips. He leans at a strange angle, with his hands gripping onto the sides of the wooden awning.

How Yoongi managed to change positions confuses you, but the feeling of his cock makes it difficult for you to dwell too much. From here, you can somewhat see his face in the dark, and his chin is so slick with your release that a new tingle of excitement works through you.

"I wonder if they can hear us," Yoongi says somewhat loudly before slamming his hips against yours hard enough for the sound to echo.

"Huh?" you ask, but it turns to a moan as Yoongi sets a punishing pace. There is absolutely no way the sounds are not traveling to the other rooms, but you are so lost in bliss, all you can manage is to cover your face. Your head digs into the wood of the seat back, and your body is scrunched and lifted uncomfortably, but you allow yourself to be handled roughly because his cock feels so good.

"Jeongguk and Hoseok. I wonder if they can hear us."

The thought of it makes you recoil. "I hope not."

"Hmm, why not?" Yoongi groans, head tilted downward with his dark hair hanging over his eyes, casting a menacing shadow. "Jeonggukie loves to listen and watch."

Unsure why Yoongi is so intent on discussing Jeongguk's sexual habits at a time like this – and puzzled by how he would know such a detail, in the first place – you refrain from responding to his claim, squeezing your eyes closed.

Please stay seated; the ride will resume momentarily.

The music suddenly sounds much louder, and you feel yourself melt further. Yoongi's movements are loud and forceful, and you can tell by his deep, quick huffs of air that he is close to blowing his load. You open your mouth to warn Yoongi not to cum in or on you, but two fingers press down on your tongue, and you clamp your lips shut, instinctively.

Hands rub over your hair, down your neck, along the curves of your thighs. Hands squeeze your breasts, touch your clit, tighten around your throat, and hug you close. Caught in a strange liminal space between panic and bliss, you only have a split moment to comprehend how any of it could be possible – how it could feel like so many different fingertips on you at once.

And then you are jumping with a start, sitting on the little wooden seat beside Yoongi. The boat seems to have jolted and is now moving forward; the twinkling music is soft and romantic; your clothing is all in place. Neither of you appear as if you just had sex, as far as you can tell, but your pussy is wet and throbbing as if Yoongi only pulled out seconds ago.

"Finally," Yoongi mutters with a chuckle. "I thought we were going to be stuck sitting on this ride for the rest of the day."

You hum in response, rubbing your palms over your thighs, allowing the soft fabric of your slacks to wick the sweat that has begun to form on your tingling palms. What the fuck just happened?

Although you are certain you and Yoongi just fucked on this little wooden boat, you have no explanation for the lost time, and you feel nervous to ask. Yoongi will definitely think you have lost your mind.

As you reach the end of the twinkling star room, you see Hoseok step into view near the exit, standing just to the right of the curtain, wearing all white. This jars you, causing you to sit up quickly; surely, he has to have seen and heard everything. And if he is there, then does that mean he and Jeongguk have somehow managed to get off the ride while you and Yoongi were stuck inside?

"Crazy how much that guy looks like Hoseok," Yoongi says as his hand snakes under your left palm and he intertwines your fingers together.

"What do you mean?" you ask, but as soon as the words settle, and you pass the man standing in white, you begin to spot differences. They are slight, but they are there.

Jack does not have a piercing on the bridge of his nose, and his bangs are straight and sort of fan out over his brow, from under his white hat, whereas you remember Hoseok's bangs having a slight curl to them. At least…you think you recall him looking that way. Jack also does not appear to be wearing much makeup, whereas Hoseok's is always smudged around his eyes.

Yoongi only chuckles beside you and squeezes your hand as the boat parts another shimmering curtain. Ahead, you can actually see Jeongguk and Hoseok's boat passing through a curtain on the opposite end of the room. This room is a large, open square with the track snaking through it, decorated with fake fields of flowers and robotic butterflies, bright with a fake, sunny sky, and no dividers to keep you from seeing through to the very end, allowing you to notice the backs of their heads as they disappear from the room.

"See?" Yoongi says, lips grazing against your neck and giving you chills. "Two different people."

There is more evidence that Hoseok and Jack are different men when you think back to interactions between the two of them – Jack commenting on the bird keychain, and Hoseok responding like an absolute maniac when you called him Jack.

"Creepy," you respond, feeling inexplicably unsettled. The prospect of two identical men potentially pretending to be the same one all along, unbeknownst to you, makes you uncomfortable. Especially given their behavior all day.

How is Jack always right in front of you? And how many times has he been there without you realizing it?

This room is much shorter than the last two, and as the boat reaches the curtains, Yoongi presses a kiss against your neck and mutters, "Wonder if he saw anything in there?"

The boat exits the final curtain, and the bright, hot sun hits you, causing you to recoil and squint. You question whether Yoongi just confirmed that something did, indeed, just happen inside the tunnel, but the sound of Jimin shouting for your attention pulls it away, and you glance up in time to see him taking a picture of you and Yoongi.

Hoseok is still around, standing with Jeongguk, just off to the side from Jimin and Taehyung. Although he appears to be speaking directly to Jeongguk, his eyes find you, and he grins. Your cheeks warm as you look away, becoming embarrassed by the thought that the two of them definitely heard something.

Jack is near the stopping point, where the boat docks, so to speak, standing to the right of the track, closest to you. He reaches over the wooden wall that divides you with a golden card that has Lost & Found scrawled on it in raised black text. You hesitate to take the card, and he pushes it closer.

"Seems you have lost something in there," Jack prompts, mouth pulled into a smile. "Take this to the smallest tent, where the older of the two Kim brothers will assist you in retrieving what has been lost."

"What—" you begin, as Jack cocks his head and says, "You chose heads, ducky. Heads, you remember everything. Please take this card to Kim Seokjin-hyung, and he will assist you in retrieving the time you seem to have lost inside the Tunnel of Love."

How the fuck Jack must know what you experienced in the ride fills you with dread and annoyance, and you begin to wonder if perhaps it had all been a trick – an illusion. But how on earth could someone create the illusion of you having sex? You can still feel your arousal wet between your legs.

You take the card from Jack's hand when Yoongi calls your name from outside the ride. You had not noticed him get up or exit the boat, and you sit there alone while the next two people in line stare at you with impatience in their eyes.

"Sorry," you mutter to nobody in particular as you duck your head and stand up.

Your legs feel somewhat weak as you step onto the wooden platform and take the three steps down to the gravel path.

"That ride was short and kind of boring," Jeongguk complains, kicking at small rocks and seemingly avoiding making eye contact with you or Yoongi.

"That's weird," Yoongi says, wrapping an arm around your lower back and rubbing his hand up the path of your spine, "it felt to me like it went on forever."

Yoongi's hand falls away and Jimin begins to hop impatiently in the direction of the Hall of Mirrors. "Let's go," he whines, elongating that last vowel, making you chuckle as you walk with the crew toward the attraction.

Hoseok walks in the same direction before veering off, toward the three red and white tents, and you lift the Lost & Found card in your hand, rubbing your thumb over the raised text.

"Hey guys," you say, lifting the card higher when everyone turns to look at you. "You, uh…you go ahead and I'll meet you in there. Jack gave me this card, and I want to go see what it means."

You expect the vagueness of your explanation to raise alarms and cause your friends to interrogate you, and you are surprised when Taehyung simply nods, and Jimin shrugs.

"See you there," Yoongi says, planting a kiss against your forehead once everyone has turned their attention away from you. "Don't be too long, yeah?"

"Sure," you mutter, eyes trailing to Hoseok, who enters the smaller of the three tents, smack in the center of all the chaos. "Yeah. See you in a bit."

The moment Yoongi leaves your side, you become acutely aware of how loud everything is. Creepy chiptune music plays from various booths, shouted over by booth attendants and the occasional scream or cheer from a customer. With each shrill sound, your feet walk a little faster and your shoulders hunch a little higher.

Somewhat desperately, you reach the entrance to the smaller of the three tents, and you fling the heavy plastic red and white striped flap open without giving it a moment of thought. Hoseok stands near a wooden desk on the far end of the space, and when you realize you have just entered someone's personal quarters, you gasp and leap backward, toward the exit.

"Shit," you mutter as your hand fails to find the tent flap, and you spin quickly in an attempt to avoid seeing whatever transpires in the center of the space.

"Don't worry, little darling," you hear a familiar voice call, halting your movements. "I was expecting you. Come, sit."

When you turn back around, Seokjin is standing with his arms crossed over his chest, wearing a wide, welcoming smile. Hoseok bows his head and walks past, toward the exit. You hear the sound of the tent flap rising and then falling, and you approach a small wooden chair with a low back and thin armrests, and you slowly take a seat.

"Nobody enters this tent who is not meant to," Seokjin says as he rounds his desk and steps close. "Now, in order to retrieve what has been lost, you will need to consent to hypnosis."

"Hyp—" you begin, wiggling uncomfortably in your seat as your hands grip onto the armrests.

"You will be cognizant of every little thing, I promise."

The prospect of hypnosis seems too grand, and you shake your head, feeling a wave of discomfort settle over you. With a sigh, Seokjin uncrosses his arms, and he sits on the corner of his desk, just to your right. Even with him seated, you have to crane your neck to look up at him.

Seokjin taps the nails of his fingers quickly against the surface of his desk – taptaptap, taptaptap, taptaptap – while he appears to choose his next words. You watch his fingers, eyes stuck on a large emerald green ring that rises and falls melodically. Taptaptap, taptaptap, taptaptap.

"Hmm, yes, I understand," Seokjin responds. Taptaptap, taptaptap, taptaptap. "The unknown can be quite intimidating." Taptaptap, taptaptap, taptaptap. "But the hypnosis we do here is only to calm and dull the senses, allowing us to reach into the mind and rearrange things a little so that what has been lost can be found." Taptaptap, taptaptap, taptaptap. "You understand…don't you, ducky?"

You do understand, and you sigh as you relax into the chair and slowly nod your head, muttering, "I understand."

"Good," Seokjin responds, grinning. "Now sink nice and deep for me."

Seokjin reaches forward with his emerald clad hand and taps two fingers to the underside of your chin. Suddenly, the room melts away, and you feel heavy, dragged down into what can only be described as dark oblivion, while Seokjin drifts up, up, up – further and further away.

Then, suddenly, you are back on the Tunnel of Love ride, seated somewhat haphazardly, and Yoongi's cock is buried deep. His hands travel slowly over your body – fingers press down on your tongue, then slide away to rub over your neck while he touches along your hairline. He fucks you hard and fast and deep, making you scream and moan as orgasm rushes over you, and although your eyes are squeezed tight, you know that it is only him who touches you.

Only him who touches your breasts, rubs your clit, grips your throat. You have two crashing, intense orgasms while the robotic voice urges you to stay seated, and you are loud and unabashed, nails digging into the wooden seat of the ride.

Yoongi pulls out and cums on your pussy – rubs the head of his cock over your outer labia and moans loudly as he makes a mess. Your eyes open as he trembles through his high, and you watch as he sinks to his knees and begins to lick his own release off you.

"Yoongi, what are you—" you ask before his tongue and lips slurping at your messy cunt cuts you off and makes you moan.

"Fuck, you taste like heaven," Yoongi groans as he sits back and rubs the back of his hand against his face. "But we should put our clothes back on before the ride starts again.”

You feel fucked out and exhausted, panting through each breath as you sit up and begin to make sense of your clothing. Your slacks are still on your left leg, but your right leg is completely bare, and your shoe has managed to end up past where Yoongi sits high on his knees and buttons his tight black jeans.

Yoongi hands you your shoe while you slide your leg back into your panties and pants, and you stand just enough off the wooden seat to pull up your garments, lightly bonking your head on the wooden awning as you struggle to get yourself put back together. The two of you giggle and sit for only about a minute before the ride jolts forward and begins to move again, causing you to jump.

"Find what you were searching for?" Seokjin asks.

You gasp as your eyes fly open, and you find yourself in his tent, right where you should be. Paperwork covers his desk in stacks, and there are wooden bookshelves covered in books and trinkets behind it. You wonder how practical it is for him to have so many belongings in a traveling circus tent, but do not question it. There is something unfathomably wrong with this entire situation, and you feel the sudden urge to get the fuck out.

"I did, thank you," you say as you stand in a rush, pushing the chair back roughly against the grassy floor.

Seokjin smiles kindly and waves as you spin and rush to the exit, yanking open the tent flap once more and finding yourself back out in the loud, hot afternoon. How you could possibly feel so claustrophobic out in the open is beyond you, but you run toward the Hall of Mirrors, relieved to find no line at the entrance.

Just as you approach the attraction, Jack steps in your way and you brace yourself as you nearly pummel into him, stopping just in time.

"Shit," you complain, side-stepping to move past him, but Jack steps along with you, and holds up his hands.

"He who has been wronged has been granted a wish. Just one wish."

Impatient and exasperated, you huff, "What are you talking about?"

"You chose heads, ducky. Heads, you remember everything. This may include premonitions and changes in the continuum. The Tower crumbles, but change is good."

"Get the fuck away from me," you grit through your teeth as you shove past Jack and run up the metal stairs that lead into the mouth of the Hall of Mirrors.

As soon as you run into the entrance, multiple yous stare back at you, and you halt in your tracks, turning slowly to find the way out of this area and on to the next. You really just want to find your friends.

You feel disoriented and dizzy as you press forward, holding your hands at chest-height as you step in circles and around sharp corners. Reflections stretched and squeezed and twisted cause your anxiety to rise, and you do your best to steady your breathing.

Then you come out into a hallway of sorts, and feel equally thrown off by the lack of strangeness. The black stretch of space has violet string lights along the floor and ceiling, broken by squares of space that you realize are entrances to other rooms.

To the right, you think you hear Jimin's giggle, and you begin to step in that direction before you hear the unmistakable sound of Jeongguk shouting, "That's fucking bullshit, and you know it, Yoongi!"

The sound of his voice is coming from your immediate left, and you slowly turn and get closer. Thin black strings create a door of sorts, and as you approach, you can see through the strips, finding Yoongi leaning against a mirror with his fingers hooked into the waistband of Jeongguk's jeans. You are unable to make out what Yoongi says in response, but you can see the unmistakable smirk and fuck-me-eyes that you are so used to having directed at you.

The room they are in is so small – an almost circular space with mirrors on every wall, on the floor, and on the ceiling. There appears to be a sliver of black to Yoongi's left that someone may be able to squeeze through, and the two of them are only about six feet away from where you stand.

"It's been weeks, Yoongi," Jeongguk huffs, attempting to step back but getting caught on Yoongi's hold of him. "When are you going to break it off? Have you even told her?"

Yoongi bites his bottom lip and reaches with his other hand to cup Jeongguk's crotch, squeezing until Jeongguk shudders and finally takes a step back.

"Let's find a dark corner, love," Yoongi offers with a bat of his lashes and a sweet, wide smile, making your heart sink like a brick. "Let me make it up to you. Then we'll tell her together."

"Fuck you," Jeongguk responds sharply, swatting Yoongi's hand away. "I don't want you to make it up to me. I'm not playing your games anymore."

"Ggukie—" Yoongi tries, and Jeongguk shoves at him, causing Yoongi to stumble back into a mirror and press his palm against it.

"No," Jeongguk snaps. "We're not speaking anymore. I wish you would fucking get lost!"

Yoongi shakes his head and stumbles as Jeongguk turns toward the exit – to where you are frozen in place. Then Yoongi takes a step forward and seems to fall backward but Jeongguk quickly walks forward and slams into you, obstructing your view and causing you to scramble away from the room, bump into Hoseok, and scream with surprise and frustration. You wish you could shrink in on yourself and disappear as Jeongguk looks at you and snickers.

"Oh, great," he snaps, rolling his eyes. "It's you. How much did you hear, hmm?"

It is shocking the way Jeongguk speaks to you, voice laced with anger and madder than you have ever seen him. But what is more alarming is that Yoongi is nowhere to be found.

"Where did Yoongi go?" you ask.

Jeongguk snickers and shakes his head. "All you fucking care about is Yoongi," he says under his breath. "You know he was playing you, right? He and I are dating; have been for almost a year."

"What?" you mutter, looking around frantically for Yoongi, who seems to have disappeared in thin air.

"We're somewhat open," Jeongguk huffs, running a hand through his hair, sending red glitter to his shoulders and to the floor. "We fuck other people sometimes. But never more than once; you were just meant to be another easy mark on his long list. He was supposed to tell you."

"Oh," you respond, feeling defeated and more worried with every second that passes.

"Yeah, oh," Jeongguk mocks, making your frustration rise. He has every right to be angry, but taking it out on you right now of all fucking times is not going to do anyone any good. "Let me guess, he stayed at your place last night?"

"Can we do this later?" you ask, panting as sweat breaks on your forehead. "I need to get out of here; I feel—"

"Yeah, whatever," Jeongguk responds while he turns, adding, "I don't give a fuck how you feel," under his breath as he walks off.

Ordinarily, you would want to run after Jeongguk and attempt to assuage his anger, but you feel desperate to find Yoongi. You remember the sliver of a possible doorway in the small room, and wonder if maybe Yoongi is taking a breather in there while the dust settles.

"Lovers quarrels are never any fun to witness," Hoseok says, and you sigh angrily as you step into the room Jeongguk just exited from. "Which is why I granted him the wish."

"Can you fuck off?" you ask angrily as you spin on your toes and face a smiling Hoseok. "Leave me alone, please!"

"You won't find him," Hoseok calls, but you ignore him, walking through the small space and pushing away the black strings that hang over the narrow passage. Only there is no room to walk in that direction; it opens into a much smaller mirrored space that is lit up with bright, disorienting flashing lights and does not appear as if it is meant to be entered.

"Where did he go?" you demand as you turn. You are angry at Yoongi, and he has a lot to answer for, but your priority is finding him.

Hoseok, who stands just inside the entrance of the room with his arms crossed over his chest, shrugs and says, "He's lost."

"What does that mean, he's lost?"

Jack appears in the entrance beside Hoseok, obstructing your way out and holding yet another gold Lost & Found card. "He's lost," Jack says, voice nearly identical to Hoseok's – just slightly more nasally. Seeing the two of them standing side-by-side makes you feel nauseous with unease. "Meaning, he needs to be found."

"But not immediately," Hoseok adds, taking the card from Jack's hand and turning it over in his fingers before pocketing it. "Seokjin-hyung isn't in his tent at the moment."

"When will he be in his tent?" you ask, desperate. How Seokjin and his fucking parlor tricks will help you find Yoongi is beyond you, but so is everything else you have experienced since entering this cursed fucking carnival.

"When the time comes, you'll know," Hoseok responds.

"When the time comes, the flap to his tent will reappear," Jack says.

"Until then, you should really find your friends, little ducky," Hoseok suggests, tilting his head.

A wave of dizziness hits you and you sway somewhat before feeling calm and clarity take over in a blink.

"Don't want to lose them, too," Jack adds.

You feel exhausted as you rub your hands over your eyes and squeeze them shut, taking in a deep, fortifying breath. When you open your eyes, the only thing you see is your own multiplied reflection and the black strings in the entryway swaying. With a sigh, you shake your head and begin to navigate the Hall of Mirrors once more, listening for a familiar voice.

🎵 visit the playlist!

note: some of the magic that occurs will have explanations, but some will not! keep an open mind to the idea that not all of the magical realism will be explained, as we move further into the story.

are we having fun, yet???

i said i would be a little mean about Yoongi being chosen as the love interest, because i have a lot of Yoongi-focused fics going on at all times. and, don't worry, you will get to vote on who, if anyone, catches the attention of our vulnerable mc next! (polls coming soon! keep an eye out for the tags!)

thank you so much for reading!!! comments and reblogs mean the world, and likes are appreciated, too!!! stay hydrated and i will be back to torment you soon! 🤍 polls will begin to go up in the next 12-24 hours for chapter 3!

🤹‍♀️ tag list: @agustdsciggy @andreargu @bangtan-tee-86 @eoieopda @idkjustlovingbts @itsshaydeekaydee @kiki-zb @mamidescarada @manuosorioh @melancholy-of-nadia @mgthecat @moonleeai @secfir @sweetestofchaos @unsureofwhathappens @violetsiren90 🎪 visit the master post to read the disclaimer & request to be tagged!

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Carnival of Terror is a Goosebumps-inspired fic, copyright theharrowing 2023. no translations or reposting allowed!

#yoongi x reader #yoongi smut #yoongi angst #bts angst #bts horror #choose your own adventure #fic: carnival of terror #Spotify

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akkaweo-akkaweo · 11 months

Text

A Little Help

Huh Yunjin x F!reader

Tags: smut, with a bit of fluff(?)

WC: 2.8k

—————

You don't know how long you've known Yunjin for. You met in the States through mutuals, both moved to Korea to pursue different careers at roughly the same time, and managed to catch up time to time. All things considered, though you wouldn't consider yourself to be as close to her as some of your best friends back home, she's as "best" a friend as you have in Seoul.

But she also happens to be your favorite member of the group she debuted in. Every comeback you're there for the opening show, you buy each album - hers in particular - and, as an added bonus to not being a stranger, you get to fangirl with her via brief Facetime calls. Above all else, you admire her for her talent and skill in her dancing, vocals, visuals, energy, stage presence...

Alas, you have an unrequited crush on your best friend Huh Yunjin.

Luckily for you, after her long run of promotions and back-to-back projects on your end, tonight was the first in a while where got to see each other again. Per your usual routine during such serendipitous moments, once she texts you that she's finally on a break, you show up to her apartment by nightfall with exactly 3 bottles of soju and enough chicken to feed a clone of each of you. She's on the couch in the middle of her empty dorm room, wearing a hoodie and gym shorts.

Tonight did feel a bit different, however. As you plop on her sofa, pick up from her last-watched Netflix K-drama, and share all the juicy stories from your times away from each other, normally you two would be making enough noise to wake her neighbors (or her roommates, who luckily weren't there this time around). But this time, she seemed a bit distracted, as if her mind was lingering on a very heavy thought.

"Hey, everything okay?," you ask.

"Well... I have to tell you something."

You feel your heart slowly start to race. Was this your K-drama moment? Had she caught on to you crushing on her somehow? Or were the 3 bottles of soju – two of which you noticed just now were empty on Yunjin's side of the table – starting to talk? You speed through many scenarios until Yunjin breaks the silence again.

"It's more of a favor actually... You see, I kind of... have feelings for Zuha-ya," she continued in a hushed tone.

Ah yes, Nakamura Kazuha. If anyone made you insecure by simply existing, it would be her. Your mom made you take fruitless ballet lessons as a kid, but Kazuha was practically a pro before debuting. You would consider yourself athletic, but nowhere close to having a godlike body like Kazuha's. And yes, while you weren't necessarily on a drought with social interaction, you most definitely were nowhere as close to her beauty. Now, it seems, there's someone else in the room who thinks the exact same thing.

"Oh. Well, I'm not surprised. Everyone fawns over Zuha-unnie – most especially you, for the record," you reply.

"Yah! I'm serious this time! Okay, all the interviews and vlogs aside, she's really sweet and funny and she just makes me feel so... tingly inside," she retorts.

"So what is this favor you wanted to ask of me then? Don't tell me it's about how to confess, I'm absolutely terrible at that," you reply.

Yunjin's eyes dart off to the side and her body visibly shrinks, which you know is a sign that the things she's about to say is either shameful or extremely TMI. Seeing her furrowed brows, it seemed to be the former.

"I wanted to ask... how to make another girl... feel good," she mumbles.

Oh no.

You initially feign ignorance. "Do you mean cheesy shit? Like, gifts or-"

"No. I mean... have you ever touched another girl before?," she interrupts.

You pause for a moment, caught by surprise by having your initial suspicions confirmed. Two thoughts come to mind: first, that you've probably only dated women twice, only one of which ever involved going base; and second, that maybe you already had an answer to this question, only because you need only recall all those lonely nights where you'd gladly put yourself in Kazuha's future shoes.

But you come to your senses. "Well... it's certainly not easy to answer that question right now, do you know if Zuha-unnie swings that way to begin with? Or if she's even willing to go that far the first time around? Don't shock the poor girl."

"Well," Yunjin says, sitting up and composing herself all of a sudden. Seems like she has thought about these questions. "Zuha-ya hasn't really been against girls liking girls, or else she would have said something by now given how many nonchalant flirts I toss her way. And no, I don't intend to jump that deep right away! But... I also have zero experience, unlike you."

"Hmm, so I guess it is kinda possible. And to answer your second question, yes I do, but it's not that hard... I mean, you know how to make yourself feel good, right?," you ask.

The following silence is deafening. Did Yunjin really not know how? But she lived in the US with you, probably exposed to the same media as you, definitely understood where the internet could take you... But if she didn't know, what was she asking then?

"Yep... I think you're starting to piece it all together," she says timidly.

Was this a dream come true or a nightmare in the making? Of course the thought of getting to touch – and maybe even be touched – by the woman of your heart's desire definitely turned you on, and your panties were as clear a sign of that as any. But fuck this up and you may lose Yunjin completely. More silence, before you decide that you'd do anything to please her, even if momentarily.

"Okay. But promise this won't affect our relationship. You're the only actual friend I have here and I do not want this to get awkward anytime soon," you warn her.

"Deal. I trust you," Yunjin replies. "Please show me how to feel good."

Somehow, that one line knocked over something inside you, because all the years of infatuation pushed your entire being to lock lips with her. You plant a long, tender kiss on her lips before breaking away. "Tip number 1, always start slow. If you like her, your body will tell you what you want to do."

Yunjin returns the favor and meets your lips as you begin to make out. The moment lasts a lifetime in your head; you can feel the softness of her lips, the growing eagerness of her tongue to enter yours. You coax it out with your own, and the kissing intensifies.

You guide her hands to grab your shoulders and your back. "Feel her body. Touch all the parts you like about her. Keep her aroused. Like this," you continue. You glide your hands across her neck, a long, blank canvas begging to be marked, down to her chest, her petite breasts enough of a handful to lightly squeeze. As you do, Yunjin shudders and starts to feel up your back under your shirt, and you shiver as her hands reach the clasps of your bra.

"Yes... Just like that, Yunjin-ah... Your hands make me feel so good," you blurt, not realizing how much of your inner thoughts escape your mouth too quick to censure.

"Do I?," she sighs, and you nod, also working your way up her hoodie. She's wearing a sports bra, but you move to remove her hoodie instead. Her hands hover over your back, and she breaks the kiss and leans her forehead on yours, breathing heavily.

"It's okay. Tip number 2, let her do what she wants with you unless you don't want to. Will you let me?," you ask. She nods, so you also remove your shirt to lay yourself bare in front of her. Her body is toned, her arms lean and her abs just a bit toned. "God you're hot, Yunjin," you add.

Yunjin seems to catch on, and takes off her bra for you, revealing a pair of pink, erect nipples. The heat pooling in your shorts grows. "Likewise," you add as you move her hands back to the clasps of your bra, "do the same for her." She obeys, and removes it with ease before grabbing you and pressing your bodies right up against each other to lock into a kiss once more. The warmth of her smooth, pearl-like skin burns on yours.

"You're really warm," Yunjin remarks. "Are you okay? Am I doing it right?"

"Yes, baby, don't stop, please," you reply. Again, more uncontrollable feelings pour out, but it's too late now to hide anything. You attempt to hide your "blunder" with another piece of advice. "Tip number 3: she'll be scared like you, so don't be afraid to use a pet name. Call her baby, or love, or whatever you want. Be intimate."

"Okay, baby," she replies, catching on quickly to your advice. That one phrase alone makes you aware of how wet you are, your pussylips drenched and slippery with just the slightest adjustment of your legs.

After another round of kisses, you both start exploring away from your mouths. You start painting her neck with kisses, and she responds by kissing just above your chest, down your sternum. You're both planting kisses along each others' jawlines and necks as your hips start locking together, and you feel that she's as warm as you are.

"This next part might be a lot, but do you trust me?," you ask, careful to not overwhelm her. Again, she nods, and you start grinding your groin on hers. You let out a deep sigh right on her ear, and she lets out a high pitched squeal. You both begin to shake with pleasure, and you feel herself push harder on you as you two start scissoring passionately. If your shorts weren't wet already, it most definitely was by now., and you're pretty sure hers were too.

Sighs turned into moans, and whispers turned into yelps. "That's... tip number... 4... don't be... afraid to... make sounds... do anything... to show... you want it...," you struggle to say, almost forgetting you're trying to reassure her about how to pleasure another woman. "Fuck... baby... you're so wet... so good...," you continue.

Suddenly, Yunjin pushes you away, pausing to draw a few breaths, before grabbing your wrist and placing it between her legs. It's hot, wet, and yearning to be touched. "Please show me," Yunjin begs.

You oblige and pull out her shorts and panties in one move, and her clean-shaven lips are open for you. You remove your shorts as well, and adjust yourself so that her hands are within reach of your pussy as well. "Try to follow me," you instruct, as you move her hand between your legs as well before returning your hand between hers.

You slowly swirl your finger over her clit, and she leans her head back with labored breaths. She eventually finds yours as well, mimicking your motions, and you moan with her. "Just like that Yunjin-ah," you say.

You move your finger between her folds, lubricated by how wet she's gotten, and she mirrors you perfectly. Both your moans rise in volume and intensity, and at the right moment you insert one finger into her. Yunjin squeals and rushes to put a hand over her mouth as she does the same, slowed down by the pleasure she wants to feel for herself. Her long, bony fingers ride up against your walls, and before you know it you're squealing with her too. "Please, baby, I want more of you, so bad...," you blurt out.

Without prompting, she adds a second finger, and it's enough to freeze you from moving your one finger from inside her. You can feel yourself tense up, from your abdomen down to your legs, right as she miraculously finds the spot and rubs it with gusto. "Yes, just like that... just like that... Fuck, I want you so bad Jennifer... I want you... don't stop," you blurt again. Her performance is so intense you scream out a name you haven't said in a long time – the very first one she introduced herself with years ago.

She holds your wrist shyly, gesturing for you to do the same, wanting you just as much as you her. You do the same, sliding two of your fingers inside and out, twisting them to coat your fingers in her cum. "Yes... that's good, baby...," Yunjin screams.

You both continue, moaning and writhing your bodies against the other's hand, before Yunjin says, "I think... I'm going to... cum, baby..." You use this sign to rub her g-spot now, and her screams intensify to her full vocal range. She goes back to your clit, rubbing it furiously, and you feel yourself weaken as well.

"You can cum... Yunjin... Cum for me... Cum for me like you want to cum for Kazuha...," you growl beneath clenched teeth, yourself slowly nearing climax as well.

Yunjin suddenly crumples, her legs locking your hand in place, unable to move; at the same time, your body starts to shake uncontrollably as you orgasm. You're both screaming each others' names at this point, almost getting fully hoarse at the end.

When both of you loosen up, you both lie limp on the couch, now a drenched mess of sweat and fluids. You both heave in the silence, overwhelmed by each others' performance.

After a while, you prop yourself up, and Yunjin stares at you with sultry, bedroom eyes, screaming both ecstasy and exhaustion. You pull her up and give her an embrace, rubbing your hands on her shoulders.

"That was... good. No joke. Kazuha is going to be very lucky. Take care of her like this and you'll have her," you said, trying to hold yourself back. A hole started to form in your chest, knowing this might have been your one and only chance to be treated right by Yunjin.

But Yunjin looks up at you, her eyes almost fully closed. "I want to, but... I also want to take care of you like this too," she whispers, before she blacks out in your arms.

You're speechless. What did she mean by that? Did she really mean that? What were you supposed to feel at this point?

Terrified of the possibilities left unanswered by a now unconscious Yunjin, you slowly try to carry her to her room (thank god for weights training), tuck her in, and try to clean up the mess you left in the living room. You get dressed and wash up, only at this point wondering where everyone else was.

As you exit the dorm and wait for an elevator, one opens to reveal a tall, fit woman with wavy jet-black hair on the other side: Kazuha. Holy shit, she's even prettier in person, you think to yourself.

You bow to each other before she walks casually in the direction of Yunjin's dorm. You hold the elevator door open to eavesdrop as you hear knocking and a few doorbells, right before the sound of the door opening with a beep – perhaps they have spare keycards of each other? – and you make that your cue to leave.

=====

Days pass. Then weeks. Then months. The silence normally wouldn't faze you (and in all honesty, it really didn't despite everything), but being left hanging after practically laying yourself bare emotionally and physically in front of Yunjin left a nagging feeling that something had happened that you never expected.

One night, you receive a text from Yunjin. Hesitating to open it for a bit, you take a deep breath before reading:

"Hey! Sorry for not replying, it's been busy. We have a few free days before we have to do some promos in Japan, maybe you'd like to come over? I want to introduce you to Zuha-ya." She sends a picture of both of them smiling innocently; they're both pretty, happy, yet Yunjin's smile sends butterflies into your chest.

You pause, and that feeling in your chest turns into a swirling cloud of anxiety. Was it anxiety? You weren't sure. But what was she thinking? Maybe it's just friendly, right? Maybe she never did catch on to how you felt. It stung a bit (or a lot), but maybe it's for the better? At least she got what she wanted.

You take a deep, pained breath, and reply, "Sure, let me know when."

—————

A/N: i hope this is ok to write? this is the only way i imagined this story going so please dont judge me too hard

#girl group smut #kpop smut #le sserafim smut #yunjin smut #huh yunjin smut #female reader

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morningglory-sims · 2 months

Text

Do We Have A Problem Here?

Elizabeth has only scratched the surface of Akio Hayashi. Will his strong-headedness get in the way of his sister's success as a ballet dancer? Will Elizabeth continue to stand her ground? 👀

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Transcript under the cut:

4 Months Ago

📍Sembambachi Dance Studio

[ELIZABETH] Good job, girls!

[ELIZABETH] You all have improved over the past 4 months, I'm so proud!

[ELIZABETH] 5 more minutes and then we’ll talk about the competition schedule.

[???] So why does your ballet teacher want to talk to me?

[???] Not sure, she was really vague and didn't tell me why.

[???] Is she usually like that?

[???] I mean, she is a little more on the quiet side.

[???] So, typical ballerina snob?

[???] What the heck! Uh, no?

[?] Well, aren't most ballerinas snobby?

[???] Some can be but Miss Elizabeth is very kind!

[???] *rolls eyes* Sure she is, and more than likely a snob.

[JURI] Akio, please don't go in hot. I know she means well and there's enough drama in our family. I need ballet to be my safe place.

[ELIZABETH] Ah, Juri. Welcome. Is this a family member with you?

[AKIO] Yes, I'm her older brother. Is there a reason you wanted to speak to me? Do we have a problem?

[JURI] *looks down, speaks softly* Akio, please.

[ELIZABETH] *clears throat* Well, Mr. Hayashi. I want to talk about Juri being late for class the past 4 weeks. I understand that life happens, but I do expect my students to show upon time or communicate if they'll be late. If there's anything I can do, I'm more than happy to work with you all towards something that supports Juri.

[AKIO] What do you mean Juri has been late for the past 4 weeks? Does class not start at 7:30?

[ELIZABETH] Due to competition season starting in 2 months, I've sent a few emails to let students and families know that class from February and on will be starting at 7:00. This is to have more time to warm up and practice. Did you not get those emails, Mr. Hayashi?

[AKIO] No, our parents have been looking after Juri’s ballet stuff, but due to private family matters

that are none of your business, she’s staying with me. Juri also didn’t tell me anything.

[ELIZABETH] No need to share anything private with me. A little miscommunication, perhaps?

We’ll get that sorted out, no problem. Juri, please get ready for class.

[JURI] Yes, I’m sorry Miss Elizabeth.

[ELIZABETH] Mr. Hayashi, let me make something clear. My students’ well-being matters to me.

I just want to make sure Juri gets the most out of this class.

[AKIO] Got it. I’ll make sure she shows up on time. Thank you for being kind, miss.

*Akio leaves, door closes*

[ELIZABETH] “Do we have a problem here?” What the hell was that? I get older brothers but holy shit. That guy fricken sucks.

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revenantlore · 3 months

Text

. Kiss Me With Your Fist wip introduction .

featuring @reininginthefirewriting ‘s vespera

a prequel to crave the fiction [character edits to be added at a later time]

Java Elliot, always on the precipice of danger and poor decisions, finds himself on a promising path of self-improvement while living with his brother Chai.

As he explores college majors and seeks a more stable job, Java's plans take a detour when he encounters Colt Hannigan—a captivating yet dangerous man who leads him astray.

Drawn into Colt’s twisted life of tantalizing drugs and criminal activity, Java is an inadvertent witness to an excess of violence and endures it at the end of Colt’s fist more nights than not.

Afraid to escape at the chance Colt might come after him, or worse, Java grapples with choices that endanger his hard-fought progress and continues to place not only his life but also his closest friendships in jeopardy.

characters :

Java Elliot —

Java can weave a lie so plausible even he could fall for it and believe it to be true, to the point that he sometimes questions his memory. But it keeps him safe and it keeps him sane, so why stop now when he’s already dug himself this deep?

likes simple things like leftover pizza and good music . could make a living off of lying if there was ever a need for it . would rather be at a concert than almost anywhere else . uses his friends as pillows . regularly drinks iced tea . too good at board games for anyone to enjoy playing because they know they’ll lose . prefers thrifting over buying new . collects vinyls and CDs and has a wide range of taste in music . not sure what he wants to pursue in life so he stagnates and jumps aimlessly from one project to another

Chai Elliot —

Chai has a busy enough life on their own without having to worry about their younger brother, but someone had to step up and keep Java safe from himself and the dangerous crowd he’s gotten himself caught up with. They still make time for their college courses and occasional hookups when time allows, but sometimes … sometimes Chai wishes they didn’t have to put their plans on hold to make sure Java doesn’t get himself killed.

loves dinosaurs and is pursuing a career as a museum curator . likes to hike, climb trees, and travel but seldom has the opportunity . prefers nonfiction books, learning the history of our planet, and watching documentaries . skirts and loose button-up shirts are essential to achieving peak gender balance . can’t convince them that black coffee and warm buttered toast is a treat and a perfect breakfast . memes? memes . flirty and handsy and not afraid of public displays of affection, no matter how much on display . could nap all day if given the chance

Colt Hannigan —

Prone to making bad choices, it’s no surprise that Java finds himself hand-in-hand with the son of one of the most dangerous men in his neighborhood. Charming and manipulative, Colt isn’t a man anyone should get involved with, and Java will come to learn he’s not alone in making that mistake

quick to anger and prone to violence . possessive and strategic . always gets what he wants . wears a chain necklace . collects antiques said to be worth thousands . psychology major and uses his knowledge to his advantage . appearance and fashion are important, for him and his partners . gourmet cuisine is the only acceptable menu . molds his partners into what he needs and wants them to be

London Elliot —

Too young to truly understand what is going on in her brother’s life, London remains oblivious and carefree … at least as far as familial drama goes. She has her own struggles with anxiety and selective mutism, finding solace in reading and ballet led by her instructor and favorite person, Vespera.

pastels and rainbows . observant and perceptive . great adoration for nature and animals . often found with a paintbrush in hand, but she likes to dabble in all creative art mediums . aspires to help people when she’s older . collects leaves and petals, likes to lay in the grass and observe the sky . love for ballet stems from its ability to express her emotions non-verbally

Vespera Cordova Ramirez —

Best friend and confidant, Vespera is always there to support Java and occasionally turns a blind eye to his choices, something that having a chaotic brother like Matias has inadvertently prepared her for

lives and breathes music . expresses her love for her Colombian heritage through cooking . far from being a stranger to engaging in casual hookups . a contradiction of ballet and skateboarding . wishes to better the world for her disabled students . conceals the hurt of a past unknown . intensely protective of those she allows herself to love . unapologetically herself . knows sign language . snarky comebacks and a sharp wit

#wip : kmwyf #wip : kiss me with your fist #wip introduction #wip intro #my edits #writeblr #java

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THIS DAY IN GAY HISTORY

based on: The White Crane Institute's 'Gay Wisdom', Gay Birthdays, Gay For Today, Famous GLBT, glbt-Gay Encylopedia, Today in Gay History, Wikipedia, and more … March 31

1872 – On this date the Russian choreographer Sergei Diaghilev was born (d.1929). A Russian art critic, patron, ballet impresario and founder of the Ballets Russes from which many famous dancers and choreographers would later arise.

Diaghilev engaged in a number of homosexual relationships. His first important affair was with Dima Filosofov, his cousin, when they were both little more than adolescents; his second with Vaslav Nijinsky, who had already had a homosexual liaison with a wealthy aristocrat, partly in order to help support his mother, sister, and mentally disabled brother (his father had deserted the family). Later affairs of Diaghilev were with Boris Kochno, who served as his secretary from 1921 until the end of his life, and with Anton Dolin, the American dancer. Diaghilev had a close platonic relationship with two women, Misia Sert and the dancer Tamara Karsavina, either of whom he said he would like to have married

One cannot underestimate the influence of Diaghilev's Ballets Russes on the development of 20th century art. But the importance of his sexuality to Diaghelev's creative art is sometimes overlooked. Had he not been a gay man, had he not attracted to his cause the great gay writers, dancers, and artists of the day, the stream of 20th century art may have flowed in an entirely different direction. As Martin Green wrote in Children of the Sun, "He made the dancer Nijinsky first his lover and then his choreographer, slyly displacing Michel Fokine and inspiring Nijinsky to become the company's chief ballet-creator. Diaghilev's superb taste...was made manifest in this new Nijinksy, the choreographer, and in the ballets he created. These works of art were the children of Diaghilev's sexual passion. The same thing happened later with Leonide Massine and Serge Lifar...These men created ballets under the spell of Diaghilev's passion and he created through them."

1934 – Richard Chamberlain, American actor, born; an American actor of stage and screen who became a teen idol in the title role of the television show Dr. Kildare (1961-1966) and the miniseries The Thornbirds.

Born in Los Angeles, he decided to pursue acting as a career. However, he was drafted into the army for two years, but enrolled in acting classes on his release, where he met his first same-sex love - but fearing the attitudes of the time, the late 1950s, the pair kept their year-long affair secret.

He appeared in his first film in 1960, and the following year won the title role in TV drama Dr Kildare, which ran for five successful years and made Chamberlain a household name and a romantic idol.

He made a number of successful and critically acclaimed movies in the 1970s - Ken Russell's The Music Lovers (1971), proto disaster epic The Towering Inferno (1974), The Swarm (1974) and The Three Musketeers (1974). In the late-70s and 1980s Chamberlain returned to TV and his career thrived in the then-new mini-series genre - Centennial (1978), Shogun (1980) and his best known role as Father Ralph de Bricassart in Colleen McCullough's The Thorn Birds (1983) - a TV phenonemon at the time. When the mini-series fell out of favour, he returned to the theatre where he continues to work.

Chamberlain was romantically involved with television actor Wesley Eure in the early 1970s. In 1977, he met actor-writer-producer Martin Rabbett, with whom he began a long-term relationship. This led to a civil union in the state of Hawaii, where the couple resided from 1986 to 2010 and during which time Chamberlain legally adopted Rabbett to protect his future estate. Rabbett and Chamberlain starred together in, among others, Allan Quatermain and the Lost City of Gold, in which they played brothers Allan and Robeson Quatermain. In the spring of 2010 Chamberlain returned to Los Angeles to pursue career opportunities, leaving Rabbett in Hawaii, at least temporarily.

Chamberlain was outed, at the age of 55, by the French women's magazine Nous Deux in December 1989, but it was not until 2003 that he confirmed his homosexuality, in his autobiography, Shattered Love which describes how he felt obliged to hide his sexuality in order to have an acting career, and detailed affairs with dancer Rudolph Nureyev and actor Anthony Perkins.

Since his coming out Chamberlain has made occasional guest appearances on TV shows such as Will & Grace, Nip/Tuck and Desperate Housewives, usually bringing a new knowingness or just playing gay as he was unable to do for so many years.

In an interview with The Advocate in 2010 promoting his role in ABC's Brothers & Sisters Chamberlain controversially said,

'For an actor to be working [at all] is a kind of miracle, because most actors aren't, so it's just silly for a working actor to say, "Oh, I don't care if anybody knows I'm gay" - especially if you're a leading man.

'Personally, I wouldn't advise a gay leading man-type actor to come out.'

1961 – American composer and pianist Jake Heggie celebrates his birthday today. Born in West Palm Beach, Florida. Heggie is the composer of the operas Dead Man Walking (2000), The End of the Affair (2004), At The Statue of Venus (2005), and To Hell and Back (2006). He is also the composer of more than 200 art songs as well as chamber and concert works.

Heggie started learning the piano when he was five years old. After spending two years in Paris, he continued his studies at the age of 20 at the University of California, Los Angeles, with the pianist Johana Harris (1912-1995), widow of the composer Roy Harris. They married in 1982 and separated in 1993.

In 1998 he was appointed composer in residence to the San Francisco Opera, where his first opera, Dead Man Walking, was first performed in 2000. With a libretto by Terrence McNally and a production by director Joe Mantello, the opera was extensively acclaimed and it ran for two extra performances due to popularity. It has since been seen in 15 international productions. In 2007 alone, Dead Man Walking received more than 50 performances. His second opera, The End of the Affair, was premiered in 2004 at the Houston Grand Opera.

In 2005, Heggie collaborated again with Terrence McNally to create At the Statue of Venus, which opened in Denver. In 2006, he debuted To Hell and Back (libretto by Gene Scheer) in November 2006.

On 29 February 2008, his opera Last Acts, with a libretto by Gene Scheer based on a play by Terrence McNally, opened at the Houston Grand Opera, which commissioned the work in association with the San Francisco Opera and Cal Performances. Last Acts was its working title; it will in future be known as Three Decembers.

On April 30, 2010, Heggie premiered his most recent opera, Moby-Dick (libretto by Gene Scheer) at The Dallas Opera.

Heggie married his partner of eight years, singer aand actor Curt Branom, in October 2008.

1963 – Laurent Daniels, born Laurent Peter Holzamer in Mainz, is a German actor who lives in Berlin.

He is the grandson of former ZDF - director Karl Holzamer.

In 1991, he and David Wilms presented the gay magazine Andersrum, which was broadcast on the local Berlin broadcaster FAB.

From 1997 to 2000 Daniels played the role of homosexual Philip Krüger in Good Times, Bad Times. He also played in the spin-off Großstadtträume in 2000 and tried his hand at singing for a while.

From August 21, 2006 to February 10, 2007 he played the role of Volker Möllenkamp in the telenovela Butterflies in the Belly. In 2007 he appeared in the last episode of Adelheid and her murderers ( Mord à la mode ).

In 2014 he stood in front of the camera for the German production Plan B: Scheiss auf Plan A , which opened in German cinemas on June 8, 2017.

1972 – Spanish filmmaker Alejandro Amenábar was born in Santiago, Chile. In addition to writing and directing his own films, Amenábar has maintained a notable career as a composer of film scores, including the Goya Awards-nominated score for José Luis Cuerda's La lengua de las mariposas.

Amenábar was awarded the Grand Prix of the Jury at the International Venice Film Festival in 2004 for Mar adentro ("The Sea Inside") starring Javier Bardem, and in February 2005 the same film won the Academy Award for Best Foreign Language Film.

In February 2004, Amenábar came out to the Spanish gay magazine Shangay Express.

In 2008 Amenábar shot an epic film called Agora which he wrote with Mateo Gill. Set in Roman Egypt, the film is based on the life of philosopher and mathematician Hypatia of Alexandria.

On 18 July 2015, he married David Blanco.

2014 – Model and activist Geena Rocero comes out as transgender during her TED talk filmed in Vancouver on the Transgender Day of Visibility. She is a Filipino American supermodel, TED speaker, and transgender advocate based in New York City. Rocero is the founder of Gender Proud, an advocacy and aid organization that stands up for the right of transgender people worldwide to gain "self-identify with the fewest possible barriers".

TODAY'S GAY WISDOM

Edward FitzGerald's translation of The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam, verses 1 - 12 (of 75):

1 Awake! for Morning in the Bowl of Night Has flung the Stone that puts the Stars to Flight: And Lo! the Hunter of the East has caught The Sultan's Turret in a Noose of Light.

2 Dreaming when Dawn's Left Hand was in the Sky I heard a Voice within the Tavern cry, Awake, my Little ones, and fill the Cup Before Life's Liquor in its Cup be dry.

3 And, as the Cock crew, those who stood before The Tavern shouted--Open then the Door. You know how little while we have to stay, And, once departed, may return no more.

4 Now the New Year reviving old Desires, The thoughtful Soul to Solitude retires, Where the WHITE HAND OF MOSES on the Bough Puts out, and Jesus from the Ground suspires.

5 Iram indeed is gone with all its Rose, And Jamshyd's Sev'n-ring'd Cup where no one knows; But still the Vine her ancient Ruby yields, And still a Garden by the Water blows.

6 And David's Lips are lock't; but in divine High piping Pelevi, with Wine! Wine! Wine! Red Wine!--the Nightingale cries to the Rose That yellow Cheek of hers to'incarnadine.

7 Come, fill the Cup, and in the Fire of Spring The Winter Garment of Repentance fling: The Bird of Time has but a little way To fly--and Lo! the Bird is on the Wing.

8 And look--a thousand Blossoms with the Day Woke--and a thousand scatter'd into Clay: And this first Summer Month that brings the Rose Shall take Jamshyd and Kaikobad away.

9 But come with old Khayyam, and leave the Lot Of Kaikobad and Kaikhosru forgot: Let Rustum lay about him as he will, Or Hatim Tai cry Supper--heed them not.

10 With me along some Strip of Herbage strown That just divides the desert from the sown, Where name of Slave and Sultan scarce is known, And pity Sultan Mahmud on his Throne.

11 Here with a Loaf of Bread beneath the Bough, A Flask of Wine, a Book of Verse--and Thou Beside me singing in the Wilderness-- And Wilderness is Paradise enow.

12 How sweet is mortal Sovranty!--think some: Others--How blest the Paradise to come! Ah, take the Cash in hand and waive the Rest; Oh, the brave Music of a distant Drum!

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