#my couch feels so empty all of a sudden. and cold. so so cold...

[vaaaaaiolet]

I needed to put this somewhere…

Ms. Assassin’s first time messing around with Leon, and all she knows how to do is please. So while they’re making out, her on his lap on the armchair in his living room, and his hands roving up and down her back, she starts pulling at Leon’s belt buckle like she’s in a hurry to get him off.

Leon, of course, stops her with gentle fingers around her wrists, reluctantly breaking the suction of their mouths to whisper, “Whoa, whoa, hey. What’s the rush? Slow down, gorgeous. We’ve got all night. Lemme savor this.” He threads tender fingers through her hair, cupping her cheek, grinning like a drunk, enamored fool. “Wanna take my time with you. Show you this ‘old man’ can treat you right.”

THE SQUEAL I LET OUT WAS INHUMANE. bunny how could you drop this masterpiece in my inbox so casually. THIS IS SO VIVID TO MEEEE STOP IT the re4r freecam mods don't help either bc i'm picturing him talking in that tone he used with ashley 😭 he would SO take his time admiring you.

"wanna show you this 'old man' can take his time," and i'm gone. wow. he can play whatever he wants on the radio forever as long as he doesn't mind me becoming a puddle and melting right through his lap. if i can't get in his pants one way i'll find another.

bunny's equally breathtaking drabble about the old man leon joke

[chleem]

Mistletoe

One shot: bf drew starkey x gf yn

Summary: In which your secret relationship with drew gets exposed due to a quick kiss beneath the mistletoe.

Genre: fluff (making out wdrew)

⋆.˚ please dont copy or translate my work!

♡⸝⸝ happy xmas! | halloween | mr & mrs starkey

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

You thought no one would say yes to a Home Alone marathon, but here you were—with seven friends huddled on your couch the week before Christmas.

You were prepared for rejection from them; watching the entire trilogy alone - well, not alone. With Drew, of course. 

Your boyfriend, of three months. Secret boyfriend. 

No one knew about you and Drew. And you both planned to keep it that way. The moment anyone found out, the teasing would be relentless. The questions would come. And honestly? You weren’t ready for that invasion of privacy.

It was easier this way. Just the two of you. Even if Drew was laughing along with everyone else, sitting across the room, his gaze on you would linger longer in a way only the two of you understood. 

What did Taylor Swift once say? Romance is not dead, if you keep it just yours. 

Maybe, the best thing she’s ever written. 

You stand up from your seat, carrying your empty cup. You needed a refill of hot chocolate, the only thing (other than Drew) that’s keeping your sanity alive in this cold weather. 

When you walk past where Drew’s sitting, the heavy weight of his stares makes your heartbeat uncontrollably speed up. 

Entering your kitchen, you immediately reheat the milk using the coffee machine, then pouring a bag of the instant chocolate powder into your cup. 

It feels like hours has passed waiting for the coffee machine to stop. 

Luckily, you weren’t alone while waiting. 

Before you can even react, arms snake around your waist, caging you between his body and the kitchen counter. His chest presses lightly against your back, and the warmth of his body sends a shiver down your spine.

Your heart already knows who it is: Drew. 

“Hey you,” he murmurs, voice low and teasing. 

He kisses your temple, and you sneak a look past his shoulder. The kitchen had a wall separating itself from the living room; but you could never be sure. 

“No one saw me,” he says, reading your thoughts. You look into his mischievous blue eyes with your skeptical ones, trying to suppress your smile. 

“Well, you can’t just sneak up on me like that,” you say, leaning into his touch. Without thinking, you let your nose drift near his neck; because why not? 

And as expected, he smells nice. 

“Mhm,” he’s never going to stop sneaking up on you. Drew’s eyes avert themselves down to your lips, before licking his own. “When are they going to leave?” 

“You know what a movie marathon means, right?”

Your words causes Drew to frustratedly groan, and throw his head back dramatically. You laugh at his reaction, finding it cute. “And we’re only on the second one…” 

“Patience, baby, okay?” You coo at him, a smile appearing on your face. 

You reach for the hot milk, pouring it carefully into your cup. As you finish, Drew’s hand moves up, effortlessly reaching the cupboard above you. Without a word, he pulls down the jar of marshmallows and hands it to you, his fingers brushing against yours. 

“We should just send them all home,” he whispers in your ear, seductively and annoyingly so, knowing that no one’s in here but the both of you. 

You send him a glare, shaking your head at him. “You mean I should send them all home. No.” 

You try to step away, cup of hot chocolate in hand, but before you can make it to the door, Drew pulls you back toward him again. His grip tightens around your waist, his hands feeling like they've found a permanent spot there.

You stumble slightly, not expecting the sudden pull, and end up having your chest tightly pressed against his. The heat from the mug in your hands is nothing compared to the warmth radiating from him.

One hand goes and takes the hot drink away from you, putting it back on the counter. “C’mon, I’m not done with you yet,” he smirks, undeniably teasing you. 

“Seriously?” you mutter, eyes narrowing at him, but the way your lips twitch betrays you. You like how he impatient he is; how he acts as if he can’t spend seconds away from you. 

You watch as Drew straightens up, his eyes gleaming with excitement, hand still firmly around your waist. The other slips into his pocket, and you raise an eyebrow, already bracing yourself for whatever this latest move will be.

“What now—” you start to ask, but your words die in your throat as Drew pulls something small out of his pocket.

The smallest sprig of mistletoe possible.

Your breath catches as you look up at him, eyes wide in disbelief. You expected anything but that.

He holds the mistletoe above the both of you, now expecting you to kiss him.

Then…“With you~ shawty with you,” the familiar tone of Justin Bieber’s Mistletoe leaves Drew’s mouth, but completely out of tune. 

You snort, unable to hold it in, the goofy sound escaping your mouth before you can even stop it. Romantic moment? No, maybe the complete opposite. 

Drew’s grin widens, and before you can even get a word out, he continues to sing the last chorus of the song. 

Your soft giggles encourages him to sing even more dramatically, adding in ad-libs. And when the song comes to an end, he attempts a high-note on the last lines, “kiss me underneath the mistletoe.” 

“You dork,” laughing, you hit his shoulder lightly in attempt to push him away.

“C’mon, kiss me,” he leans down closer to you, “especially after that performance.” 

You look up at him, eyes still gleaming with laughter, but something shifts. The playfulness in his gaze deepens, the smile slipping into something a little softer, a little more serious. He’s still holding the mistletoe above your heads, but it no longer feels like a joke.

And because it was such a good performance, you wrap your arms around his neck, pull him even closer, and kiss him. 

You pour your emotions into it; kissing him soft and slow. Drew immediately melts into it, kissing you back with the same tenderness. 

He drops his hands to wrap around your body, the rough leaves of the mistletoe tickling the skin your top doesn’t cover. You giggle into the kiss, leaving the invitation for Drew to thrust his tongue deeper into you. 

His hand slips lower and cups your ass, giving it a tight squeeze. 

Moaning into his mouth, you know this kiss is escalating. Escalating, rather fast. 

The pulse that speeds up in your lower stomach can support your thoughts. 

You pull away from him, breathless and slightly starstruck. 

Drew is definitely starstruck, lips plumped, cheeks red, and his blue eyes no longer able to hold a single thought behind them. 

He leans down to continue, and when you pull away, a pout is evident on his lips. 

“Earth to Joseph,” you giggle breathlessly, cupping his face. 

He smiles at the mention of his full name, lazy look in his eyes. “They didn’t notice I was gone,” he murmurs, his voice laced with desperation to kiss you again. 

“They will soon,” you gently tell him, before planting a quick kiss to his lips again. 

“Fuck,” he groans, biting down on his lower lip. His gaze drops down between the both of you, and you follow his trail of line. 

Sure enough, the crotch area of his jeans is slowly emerging, a line evident.

“Forgot how easily aroused you are,” you tease, patting his shoulder as you walk past him.

Your gaze flickers to the doorway, and when your mind confirms it, you freeze.

“Shit.”

Your eyes lock with Madelyn’s. She’s standing there, mouth opened in a gasp, eyes wide with shock. She doesn’t even try to hide the fact that she’s caught you in the act. 

Her eyes flicker between you and Drew, who immediately turns his back to face her (obvious reasons why). Her opened mouth turns into a full-wide grin, before raising a finger to point between you and Drew. “Oh! Oh-“

Madelyn’s loud remarks echoes through your apartment, making herself heard to the rest of the group in the living room. You embarrassingly bury your face into your hands, hearing the footsteps of your friend group entering your kitchen. 

Great. So much for keeping this relationship a secret. 

“What happened?” You hear JD ask, worry in his tone. 

“They were making out! And- and Drew’s hard right now!” She practically yells it, leading to a chorus of gasps and laughs. You’re pretty sure Rudy laughs the hardest, his laugh full of amusement and disbelief. 

You groan in embarrassment, your face burning as you sink to the floor, hands instinctively covering your face like a shield. "Fuck," you mutter under your breath.

“You owe me fifty bucks!” You hear Chase happily chirp to someone. 

Everyone takes advantage of you and Drew’s discomfort, just like how you expected them to do once they found out.  

You then feel hands cupping your face, forcing you to look up. 

You meet the familiar blue, Drew now kneeling beside you with an embarrassed smile that matches yours. He rests his forehead against yours, his chest vibrating with laughter, “guess the cat’s out of the bag.”

You giggle at his capability to joke along, hitting his shoulder lightly. “You’re so annoying.”

“Merry Christmas to you too,” Drew says, brushing off your comment with a playful shrug.

You shake your head, but the warmth in your chest is undeniable. With a quick move, you grab the collar of his sweater, pulling him close. You tilt your head just enough to meet his lips in a kiss.

It’s soft. Brief. Sweet. Just enough to drown out the noise, to remind you of the quiet between you two amidst the madness.

When you finally pull away, your breath mingling, you murmur softly, “Merry Christmas,” your voice a gentle whisper that only he can hear.

Drew’s eyes soften as he looks down at you, his smile warm and genuine. “Merry Christmas,” he repeats, as if this moment—this simple kiss—is exactly what he needed too.

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

word count: 1.6k

ִ ࣪𖤐 a/n: merry christmas!! hope you enjoyed reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it! i love writing these little holiday specials, bc it gives me the opportunity to write something fun & weird! last one i wrote was hallow's eve, and i just wanna say thxs for liking it. that is, im currently writing another christmas oneshot, so look forward to it!

elevator | other | mr & mrs starkey | hallow's eve

[nastybuckybarnes]

Cling to me

Pairing: Steve Rogers X Reader

Summary: You overhear something you weren’t meant to hear. 

Warnings: Angst, Language, Fluff, 

Word Count: 2.1k

A/n: wrote this one a year ago teehee but I LOVE this kinda shit I live for it. hope y’all enjoy 

~*~

“So things are going well, then?”

You shouldn’t be eavesdropping, you really shouldn’t. It was an accident.

You had approached the bathroom door to ask Steve for a towel, not wanting to drip water all over the carpeted hallway, when you heard him and Bucky talking.

The bathroom fan is on, drowning out the sound of you stepping closer to the wood.

“Well, yeah, I guess so. I mean... I guess.”

You frown.

You thought things were going great.

“What? What’s wrong?”

Steve lets out a heavy sigh and glances at the bathroom door then slightly lowers his voice, but you can still hear him clearly.

“She just... she’s real needy, Buck. She’s physically clingy, always sitting by me or on me and holding my hand and stuff... and she never leaves me alone when I’m out on assignments. I’m just... I need some space.”

Your heart stumbles in your chest for a moment before beating twice as hard, each beat smashing against pins and needles and sending pain radiating through your chest.

Too needy.

Steve thinks you’re too needy.

This is how it started with Jeremy.

You were too clingy.

Slowly, you back away from the bathroom door and slide down the wall, shivering at the wet droplets clinging to your skin, then put your face in your hands.

Steve won’t be like Jeremy. He can’t.

Everything will be fine, you just need to give him space.

You can almost hear Jeremy’s voice in your head, whispering words that he’d repeat when you were with him. But maybe he was right.

Just because you like being physical and spending time with him doesn’t mean he wants that too. You haven't even taken his wants into consideration.

A knock on the bathroom door startles your face out of your hands and you flip your head up, looking at the door with wide eyes.

“Honey? I’m just gonna go grab some drinks with Bucky and Sam. I’ve got my phone and I shouldn’t be home too late.”

You take a deep breath and nod even though he can’t see you.

“Okay, have fun!”

Your voice is a little duller than usual, a little less lively, but Steve chalks it up to the fan distorting your voice.

You stay rooted in place on the bathroom floor, knees hugged up to your chest, for hours.

You’re not sure why, whether it’s out of fear that he won’t come back or that he’ll be waiting out there to break up with you, but you’re terrified.

Eventually, after the chills have sunk into your soul and shivers are shaking your bones, you leave the bathroom and get dressed.

Usually, you’d put on a pair of panties and one of Steve’s shirts, but you can’t bring yourself to touch his stuff after what you heard.

You pull on a tank top and a sweater and your fuzziest socks, hoping to chase away the cold, though it feels like it’s here to stay.

The apartment seems so empty without him there, and you yearn to check up on him and make sure he’s okay, but you don’t go near your phone.

He’s a grown man and he can take care of himself.

You barricade yourself in the bedroom, cuddled up under the blankets and holding one of your pillows to your chest as you watch reruns of Golden Girls.

You fall asleep before he gets home, though you’re awoken by the sound of the door opening.

Instead of perking up and meeting him like you usually would, you stay in bed, pillow hugged to your chest and eyes shut.

He’s stealthy as he joins you in bed, sliding in behind you and wrapping an arm around your waist.

It takes everything in you not to shake his arm off.

As he leans forward and presses a kiss to the back of your neck, a tear slides down your temple and buries itself in the pillows.

~*~

Steve’s confused at your sudden change in behaviour, constantly checking his phone for texts from you and missing your touch when he sits on the couch reading a report.

You’re standing in the kitchen a few days later, talking softly to Yelena and Wanda while Bucky, Natasha, Sam and Steve all sit on the couches in your living room.

The two women lead the way into the living room and you follow them, not stopping your conversation as you take a seat between the two of them.

Steve’s eyes are focused on you, waiting for you to look at him, to realize that you’re not sitting in the right spot and that you should be closer to him, but you never do.

You stay engaged in your conversation, laughing at something Yelena says before turning your attention to Wanda.

Bucky watches curiously as Steve balls his hands into fists then turns back to the conversation he was having, his voice slightly more strained than before.

“Isn’t this what you wanted?” Bucky asks later that evening after almost everyone else has gone home.

You’re already in bed, oblivious to the conversation they’re having.

“I thought it was, but not cold turkey. She hardly texts me unless I text first, she doesn't kiss me goodbye anymore, and she hasn’t sat beside me once in the past week.”

Bucky shrugs, “you’re the one who said she was too clingy.”

Steve knows.

He fucking knows.

And maybe he’ll like it, but first, he needs to get to the bottom of why you’ve switched so quickly.

After bidding Bucky goodbye, Steve joins you in the bedroom, climbing into bed beside you and rolling onto his side to watch you.

Your attention is focused on the TV as if he isn’t in bed with you at all.

When he opens his mouth to speak, you reach over and turn off the lamp on the nightstand, then turn off the TV.

You don’t do it on purpose, but he doesn't say anything.

“Goodnight,” you whisper, turning onto your back and facing away from him.

He stares at you in shock.

The past couple of nights he’s come into bed after you’ve been asleep, but tonight he was sure you’d cuddle up against him like you usually do.

“Goodnight. I love you,” he murmurs, heart racing in his chest as he waits for your reply.

“I love you too.” There it is.

It settles his heart a tiny bit to hear you whisper the words, but he’s still confused by your actions.

You always cuddle up to him.

Always.

Every night that he’s been home for the past year.

And now you’re not even wearing his clothes to bed.

He can’t sleep at all that night, too focused on how strange you’ve been acting and how much he fucking hates it.

And then it dawns on him.

You must’ve heard him talking to Bucky.

That’s the only explanation.

His heart hurts in his chest and guilt floods his body. He tosses his head back against the pillows and squeezes his eyes shut, hating himself for ever speaking those stupid words.

He was just having a bad week. He was overwhelmed with work and briefings and then you were always by his side.

It was too much.

And now you’re doing everything in your power to distance yourself from him.

You’re lying in the same bed but you’ve never been further away.

Sure, he can feel the heat radiating off of your body, but you may as well be a thousand miles away.

The guilt wells up in his eyes and slips down his cheeks as he rolls onto his side and pulls you against his body, burying his face in your hair.

Fuck, he feels terrible.

All night he thinks about how much you do for him, how much you love him and everything you’ve given to him and sacrificed for him. And he couldn’t even appreciate you properly. No, he had to go and run his mouth about bullshit that he didn’t even mean.

He has to make this right.

He will.

He just has no idea where to start.

~*~

When you wake up the next morning there’s a strong arm secured around your waist.

You’re so used to waking up alone that you can’t help but cuddle into it. That is, until you remember his complaints.

Shifting as slowly as you can, you try to slip out of his grip, but he only wraps his arm around you tighter.

“You’re leaving?” He asks into your hair, his voice groggy.

You swallow hard and clear your throat.

“Bathroom,” is all you manage to whisper.

He lets out a heavy sigh but slowly unwinds his arm from around your waist.

“You’re gonna come back after, right?” He asks, his voice soft.

You hesitate before getting up, unsure of what to say.

Are you?

You don’t particularly want to.

Well, that’s not true. You want to, more than anything, but you don’t want to overwhelm him and smother him with your clingy nature.

“Do you want me to?” You end up asking, glancing over at him.

He slowly opens his eyes, sadness filling them, and you regret asking.

“Honey... what I said the other day... to Buck... I wasn’t thinking, sweetheart. I don’t think you’re too clingy, not at all. I think you’re perfect for me and the way that things have been lately… All the distance between us? It’s been unbearable. I hate it. I didn’t know what changed at first but... I’m sorry.”

Your heart is in your throat at the fact that he knows you heard what he said.

“I didn't mean to eavesdrop, I’m sorry,” you whisper, pushing into a seated position to get off the bed.

“Honey, wait. Please. Please, don’t go. I miss you. So damn much. All I want is for things to go back to the way they were. And... I know that will probably take time, but I just miss you so fucking much.”

Tears prickle at your eyes and you sniffle, refusing to look at him.

“I didn’t mean to be clingy. I know... I know I can be a lot. It’s one of the issues Jeremy and I had. I can give you space, Steve.”

His heart cracks and he sits up behind you, one hand finding your lower back in an attempt to get closer to you.

“Sweetheart, I don’t want space. You’ve given me space and it’s been the worst experience of my life. I just want you back. I want to hold your hand and kiss you and talk to you and be near you. I love you and you... you make me feel important. You make me feel loved.”

He has to fight his own tears as he speaks, and you sit silently in front of him, eyes focused on the carpet.

“For so much of my life, I felt alone, besides Bucky. I felt like I had no one and no one would love me. And then I went under and I woke up and... everything was different. I was a man out of time. I never thought I would ever have found someone who loves me as wholly as you do. And I’m sorry for ever making you feel like you need to change yourself.”

His arms wind around you and he pulls your back against his chest, slowly rocking you from side to side as you sniffle.

“You are everything I have ever wanted and more, sweetheart. I love you for everything you are and everything you do, and I’m so damn sorry I ever made you feel like you were too clingy. You’re perfect for me. Sometimes I think that you’re the reason why I survived it all. Was so that I could find you. You’re it for me.”

His words help to heal the wounds he caused, but what really does it is the meaning behind it. The love he’s pouring into every syllable he speaks is powerful enough for you to feel without even trying.

You know he regrets what he said. But, more importantly, you know he’s not Jeremy.

Steve loves you.

Slowly, you turn in his arms and look up at him, and his heart breaks even more when he sees the tears on your cheeks.

“If I’m ever too much, you gotta promise to let me know, okay?” You whisper.

He huffs out a weak laugh and shakes his head, squeezing you to his chest.

“You are never too much for me. You’re everything I could ever want or need and so much more. You’re perfect for me. And I’m gonna try my hardest to be good enough for you because I love you. I love you with my whole heart and soul.”

“I love you too, Steve,” you whisper, burying your face in his shoulder as he hugs you tightly.

And there on the bed in the dim morning light, Steve clings to you.

He clings to you like you’re his lifeline, like you’re the energy that keeps him going.

He clings to you, and he doesn’t plan on stopping anytime soon.

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

.⋆｡What I Cannot Give You｡⋆.

Steve Rogers x plus size reader

After sleeping with your boyfriend for the second time, you find out that he’s never cum with you- but his ex says that he always did with her

Warnings: smut, angst, insecurities, feelings of inadequacy, misunderstanding, inability to finish (on Steve’s end), ooc!Sharon, mentions of diets, comfort

WC: 2.3k

Minors DNI

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

“Alright, what’s going on?” Numbly, you looked up from your cold cup of tea to meet the piercing green eyes of your best friend. Natasha was almost glaring at you as she stood with her hands on her slim hips, quite obviously having been watching you for some time.

You swallowed thickly. “Nothing, nothing’s wrong.” Her scowl deepened.

“That’s not what I asked now was it?” Your stomach flipped and you squeezed the teacup even tighter. “But now that you’ve said that, what’s wrong? And don’t you dare lie to me, I’ll know.” 

You should’ve known that Nat would spot your unease from a mile away, you should’ve just stayed in your room. But the need for food and a distraction from your thoughts had been too great of a temptation. Your vision blurred with tears as you pitifully shook your head. 

Suddenly, all the exasperation was gone from her expression and she was kneeling before you, one hand on your knee, the other on the arm of the couch. “Hey, hey don’t cry.” You whimpered loudly, now unable to stop the onslaught of emotions.

“It- it’s fine. Everything’s fine.” With a free hand, you furiously wiped away the fat tears that were now rolling down your full cheeks. Natasha sighed heavily and pulled the cup from you, placing it on the coffee table behind her.

“Was it that commercial about the cat and the raccoon again?” She teased though her tone still held some strain of wariness. 

“No.” You groaned tearfully, making Nat smile warmly at you.

“Then it can’t be so bad can it?” Moving gracefully, she plopped down on the couch cushion next to you, taking your shaking hands into her steady ones. “Did something happen with Steve?” The watery look you gave her in return was all the answer she needed.

“Stevie!” You cried, your head tossed back in pleasure. It was overwhelming, overpowering, it was everything. The man above you groaned as you tightened around him once more, practically strangling his cock with the force of your orgasm.

Your nails scraped down his muscular back, leaving behind bright red lines that would disappear before dawn even broke the horizon. “Feels so good!” Your sobs echoed through the room along with the wet slapping of skin as his hips met yours.

Blonde hair brushed against your nose as Steve buried his face into your neck, lathering your burning skin with even hotter kisses. “That’s it doll, one more time for me please.” And as the fat head of his cock hit that spongy bundle of nerves inside you, you obliged him. Though less powerful than your previous three, your soft body still tensed with ecstasy and your mind went hazy.

“Good girl, my good girl.” Steve muttered softly, laying one last gentle peck to your shoulder before he pulled himself away from you. “Did you have a good time?”

You rolled your eyes with a smile. “I can’t feel anything below my hips, does that answer your question?” He chuckled and kissed the tip of your nose.

“Alright, no need to be smart about it.” As gently as he could manage, Steve sat back on his haunches and slowly pulled out of you. You whined at the sudden emptiness of your cunt and the soreness that came along from having his massively thick length inside of you.

But there was no other sensation after that, no telltale feeling of cum inside of you or drying on your thick thighs. Furrowing your eyebrows, you looked at your boyfriend. “Did you finish?” The question came out more shaky than you intended but Steve seemingly didn’t notice.

“No but you did and that’s all that matters.” He dismissed as he stood up from the mattress. You sat up on your elbows, not done with the conversation just yet.

“That’s the second time it’s happened and we’ve only had sex twice.” You pointed out but Steve just sighed.

“It’s fine, it happens sometimes. I’m just happy that you felt good. That’s more than enough for me. Now stay there so I can clean you up.” And as he walked to the attached bathroom, your heart sank and a pit began to grow in your stomach.

“Stevie.” You started but quickly stopped as his blue eyes bore into you. Rage oozed from them like lava, stunning you into silence.

“That’s enough. I told you it’s fine, I won’t be having this conversation again.” With tensed shoulders and clenched fists, he left the room leaving you lost and feeling far more empty than ever before.

“Okay so he didn’t finish but you did. I see no problem with that, it would be the opposite for most guys.” Nat shrugged, a lean arm around your shoulders as she continued to comfort you despite her apparently dismissal of the whole thing.

You huffed, now more frustrated than distraught. “That’s not the point.” You tried to yank away but she held strong, easily pinning you back down onto the couch.

“Then what is?” She implored.

“That I’m not enough for him!” You cried. “That I’m not pretty enough or good enough in bed to even get him to cum! There has to be something wrong with me and he’ll figure that out soon enough and leave me.” Fear and sadness filled your heart as you spilled out your deepest fears to your best friend who was now stunned unto silence.

“He’ll find someone better, just like everyone else did.” You bit down on your lip as more tears rose to the surface. 

“Pcholka-“ She started but was quickly interrupted by another person strutting into the communal living area.

Sharon Carter, the very personification of everything that you wished you could be, was smirking devilishly as she strolled past you and Natasha, apparently heading for the kitchen. You held your breath as she gracefully walked by, her high heels (which weren’t needed for her job) clacked against the expensive flooring. 

“Don’t mind me ladies, just getting myself a protein shake. This new diet is a killer I tell ya but it’s so worth it.” Her smirk made you shrink into yourself but Natasha’s firm grip kept you from escaping. 

An uncomfortable silence settled over the room as Sharon flitted about the kitchen. Until she finally began her walk back out. You breathed a sigh of relief as she passed by the couch once more but right as she reached the door frame, she turned back and made eye-contact with you.

“Oh Steve always finished with me.” Your eyes went wide with shock. Sure there had been rumours that your boyfriend and the CIA agent had been involved but nothing more ever came out of it so you always just dismissed it as office gossip, until now. “Every. Time.” She said, rubbing even more salt in your already wounded ego.

“No one fucking asked you Sharon. In fact, why are you even here, weren’t you reassigned because of your fuckup in Bosnia?” Natasha snarled, her eyes narrowing on the other agent. She twisted her body around, giving you the opportunity to rip from her grasp and make a run for it.

Nat called out your name but all you could focus on was the way that Sharon smirked at you, her bright eyes alight with an evil plan and you wouldn’t be sticking around to watch it play out, not when you knew that she would be successful.

——————

Being the completely understanding and perfect boyfriend he was, Steve could be easily avoided with a simple text that you weren’t feeling well and needed some alone time. He would always ask if you needed anything and you could tell that he was curious as to why you weren’t letting him come take care of you but he respected you too much to pry any deeper.

Natasha hadn’t been so easy to avoid but your stubbornness won out over hers so she had left you alone, just like you wanted. It was easier being alone with your thoughts than having her try to convince you that what you were feeling was stupid and a total misunderstanding.

Groaning, you threw your phone across the bed. The screen was still bright with the Cosmopolitan article about ’10 Tips and Tricks to Make Him Go Crazy For You’, all of which seemed very expensive in the case of toys and lingerie or positions that you were not nearly flexible enough to pull off.

Maybe it was hopeless, you already knew that you weren’t good enough for him so what did it matter if you couldn’t get him off. You were barely even together in the first place, it wasn’t as if you were already in love with him and breaking up would devastate you.

You rolled over onto your side and curled into the pillow that miraculously still smelt like him, squeezing it tightly to your chest. This feeling was familiar, the drop of your stomach, the stutter of your heart like you were at the precipice of a cliff and unable to stop moving forward. 

And all you could think about was the disgust and the anger in Steve’s eyes that night. It was like in that moment he also figured out how one-sided the relationship was and he hated you for it.

“Doll, I know you’re in there.” Your body snapped up, your muscles pulled taut with anxiety. “You don’t have to open the door, I just want to know if you’re ok. Nat said you were having a tough time.” 

“I’m fine Steve, just having a moment.” You tried to dismiss but the dry crack of your voice had him opening your door and slipping inside. 

In the dim light of your bedroom, Steve’s figure was imposing, his sheer size creating a void in the space. Your heartbeat pounded loudly in your ears as he gently shut the door behind him. “You only ever call me Steve when something’s wrong.” His steps were featherlight as he cautiously crept closer.

“Steve-“ 

“See, there it is again. I’m your Stevie not Steve.” He whined playfully, making a ghost of a smile dance across your lips. The mattress dipped under the weight of one of his hands as he planted it by your wide hips, giving you enough space to be respectful but close enough that you could feel the heat of his skin through your pyjamas.

He leaned closer as if going in for a kiss but you stopped him with a hand to his strong chest. He paused for barely a second before he pulled your hand away and brought it up to his lips. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Your eyes dropped to your lap, you could guess what was coming next. ‘It’s not you, it’s me’ or ‘I just think we’re better off as friends’. But instead of the breakup you thought was going to happen, Steve hooked a finger under your chin and guided your gaze back to him.

“Is this about the other night? I told you that you didn’t have to worry about that.” He tutted as his thumb gently caressed your jaw. You hesitated nuzzling into his touch, still too hurt to want that comfort.

“But why would you even be with me if I can’t make you feel good?” As soon as the words slipped from your mouth, you regretted them. Steve’s expression turned stormy and suddenly, his grip became tighter until your jaw ached from the force of it.

You could see the way the vein in his neck twitched as an angry flush crawled up his cheeks. You knew he wanted to yell, to lash out at you but he quickly swallowed down his anger, taking a deep breath before he spoke again.

“You do make me feel good. You make me feel amazing, both in and out of the bedroom. You’re gorgeous doll, and smart and funny and caring. I’m with you because of that, not because I want to just get off. I get pleasure from your pleasure.” He cooed, leaning forward to rest his forehead against your own.

His breath fanned across your lips as his other hand finally cupped your hip beneath your oversized shirt. “Sharon told me that you always finished with her.” You whispered, your fingers curling into the compression shirt he wore.

His pecs rippled with your touch, his heartbeat strong beneath your palms. “I can’t cum, doll. Or at least I can’t anymore.” Taking a shaky breath, he continued.

“I don’t think I’ve cum since before the serum.” His voice was soft, ashamed. His broad shoulders dropped as he finally admitted the truth. “It did something to me that no one has been able to figure out yet but we’re getting closer.”

“But Sharon-“

“I faked it with her. Every time.” At your puzzled expression, Steve smiled softly. “I always wore condoms so she couldn’t tell and besides, it was only a couple times before you were even around. I haven’t thought about her since the moment you walked into the tower on your first day.”

Only now did you melt into his hold, letting him pull you closer as he endeavoured to comfort you. “You’re all I want, all I need. I promise.” 

“Really?” You whispered, your lips drawing closer to his. The corners of his eyes scrunched as he smiled back at you.

“Really. As long as you don’t mind that I can’t fill you up with my cum, mark you from the inside out.” He growled playfully. Heat rushed to your cheeks at the dirty talk, your mind now filled with images of just that.

“Stevie!” You yelped but was cut off by his lips pressing against yours. Your heart skipped a beat as he held you tighter, the kiss quickly becoming far more passionate.

“That’s my good girl.” 

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[worldsover]

Well, Now What?

20.5k words

You are dating Ryujin; it's tough making a relationship with an idol work, but you have your own… unique ways of handling it, featuring quite a few other idols. When your friend and ex Karina gets wrapped up in a dating scandal with your fellow actor, you're put in a tough spot between them.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

"Well, now what?"

No response to your question. Your living room is bathed in a cold, sterile light, streetlamps against the windows. There sits man of the hour, Lae Jaewook. Cans of beer line your coffee table, and the conversation you're holding with him feels like a scene in more of a low-budget show, maybe one of those YouTube web series, and there's no way that YouTube money could afford a cast with you and Jaewook in it. His face, all rough lines and handsome features, is clear and void.

"I mean, if you're not gonna call her…" You gesture vaguely around your empty room, not wanting to have to spell it out.

Irritation cracks his strong features, and Jaewook counters your frustration with even more stubbornness. The sky-high cheekbones, the crinkled eyes, he'd be an intimidating force, heavy waves rumbling in the distance, if you didn't know him so well. "Come on, you think I don't have the sense to call her?" He scoffs. You want to nod, want to laugh, but keep both to yourself for now. "No, it's your fault."

"Oh?"

"You're keeping me hostage here like some kind of bad cop," he says as he points toward the empty cans on the table.

Put your hands up. (Weren't you supposed to be the cop? He has the gaze of a severe statesman whose withering off-hand remarks might flatten a country, even if when he talks, it's a lot less dire.) "Alright man," you say, "if you wanna leave, you can leave. Good luck with Dispatch."

Your words hit the target, raising Jaewook from his seat. He walks toward you and places his hand on your shoulder, and the two of you make eye contact, tense energy snapping through the air; it releases like that, and you both laugh.

"I'm not going anywhere yet," he says. "Too late for that." You can see the regret in his choice of company for the night. You can imagine one other person he'd rather see in the moment. You get it. "This whole thing is just…"

"Yeah, crazy." You nod solemnly, empathetically. You know this, all the thoughts going through his head, lived through the worries yourself. Living through them now, still. You reach over and grab the last unopened can of beer. After a long sip, you notice Jaewook, a statue. You'd usually laugh when he gets that serious.

His expression softens. "How does it work? The whole… dating an idol thing. You know that's why I called in the first place."

You motion toward the TV symbolically, its screen black but text implied what it would be if powered on. "Well, clear all that shit up, first of all."

"What?"

"You said it was just flirting, you weren't at dating yet."

"Well, yeah, I've asked her out on dates."

"So it's one of those."

He sighs and shakes his head. "She's already been to my house like four times, I think."

You stretch out your hand to give him a fist bump. "Nice."

"Don't be stupid, you know it's not like that. Where the fuck else..."

You smirk and retract your arm. "I'm just fucking with you, man. Trust me, if anyone knows how the system works, it's me."

Jaewook purses his lips. "Right." He sits back down on the couch with a tired thud that makes the old cushions sink. "This is all so stupid." His voice is a mumble as if speaking only to himself.

You gulp down beer. "Again, trust me. I know." You're not a serious kind of person, but you're sure he recognizes the honesty in your voice. "Anyway, you better get on that shit. If there's only person that matters..." Once more, you have a sudden, uncharacteristic sincerity about you. When you and Jaewook and Chaemin and the rest of the guys hang out, it's always fun and games, and no time to dig deeper, talk about anything that matters. It's different here. Call it matching the dim atmosphere of the night. "You know the headlines are saying it was love at first sight."

Jaewook waves a dismissive hand. "Aish, I don't care about comments."

"That's not the point. Does she know?"

He thinks for a moment. "Shit."

It's your turn to pat his shoulder. Almost like looking into a mirror.

Jaewook looks more determined than defeated, looking at his phone on the table. (It's a ghost town; he's completely silenced the device because otherwise, it'd be like hanging out with a flashbang in the middle of the room. Now the grenade's just an elephant.) "I'll get right on it. I need to think about what to say, though."

Pat him once more before leaning away.

"But anyway," he says, "that's not what I was asking about. It was more about the idol thing than the dating."

Another sip to think."I see... how do I put this? Imagine trying to date the Mona Lisa."

Jaewook spits out his drink. "What? You're always full of shit."

"I'm being serious! Dating an idol is like robbing a work of art. You have ten security cameras and eight panes of glass between you and the actual painting."

Jaewook's eyes narrow as he considers your analogy. He laughs to himself. "Got it. I didn't know you could be so smart."

"Pft, you know what, I am kicking you out for that—"

"Wait, wait, sorry, I didn't mean it like that. Actually, keep talking."

"Okay," you start again. "Well... If you're an idiot, you'd only see the walls and the cameras. You'd think you're building a relationship, but really, all you're doing is running into more roadblocks, being paranoid, until one day, you'll trip a trip wire, and, ping pang, those eight panes of glass are gone, and the alarms are gonna ring in your ears and all those security guards are gonna drag you out and you'll never be allowed to even see the Mona Lisa anymore."

"Hah, okay. Wow. I thought I was drunk," Jaewook replies, grinning. "Are you okay?"

You clap him on the back and take a swig of beer. "Okay? Bro, I'm doing more than okay. I guess that was just the first time for me."

"So you're saying you've dated more than one idol?"

If only he knew. You sidestep the question. "Ryujin and I are plenty happy," you say with finality. "But that's not the point. I guess you could say she let me see past the walls. Not the cameras—we do know the cameras are still there, but we can't do anything about them anyway, right?"

Jaewook sits back down. "Never mind. I don't know why I came to you for advice," he mutters. "You're clearly insane."

The two of you talk for the rest of the night, mostly about inconsequential matters, like how Jaewook still keeps in touch with his other costars, Minhyun, Somin, and Kiyong, or how Jaewook has been practicing guitar lately. The delivery driver at your door with a bag of chicken asks if you’re that actor, then follows up with asking if you’re that actor who’s friends with Lee Jaewook, then follows that up with asking if you’re that actor who’s friends with Lee Jaewook who’s the thief dating Karina; he just read that on the news—you laugh it off. Over chicken, you share your excitement with Jaewook about debuting as a lead in your own drama.

But amidst all the casual chatter, the question lingers in the air like a persistent itch.

"How do you make it work?"

✦✧✦✧✦✧

"Well, now what?"

You lie in Arin's bed, your arm draped around her warm, perspiring body. The soft glow of dawn casts a faint light on her nude form, revealing the flush of red marks and handprints that decorate her exposed skin. As you steal a glance at her, a mischievous smirk plays on her lips, and her bare back becomes a canvas for your wandering finger. The room is dimly lit, allowing only glimpses of the intimate details of her body, while everything else fades into obscurity.

"What do you mean, Oppa?" Arin responds, then turns to face you. Her eyes gleam with curious desire. Her ass, on full display before you, holds a magnetic allure, enticing you like a loose thread begging to be pulled. Reddened further. Made into your fucking handles. Your finger, more delicately than your wanton thoughts, traces a path down her spine, to venture onto the painted canvas of her backside. Even if the light is soft, it feels like a spotlight on how every contour and curve of her skin comes alive to you.

Your nails dig into the raw flesh as you kiss the nape of her neck. "Is it okay if I sleep here," you ask, "or do I have to sneak out?"

Arin releases a contented sigh, leans into your touch. Her voice carries a breathless quality as she answers, "Stay." Her breath dances against your skin.

So you stay.

"By the way, I've been wondering..."

"What about?" you inquire while your fingers inch closer to the warmth nestled between her thighs. Instinctively, Arin's hips jerk, and her legs close around your hand, holding it captive. The rhythm of her heartbeat resonates against your chest as you lean forward to plant a tender kiss on her cheek.

"How you're not jealous of Ryujin. Like how many guys and girls has she fucked this week?"

"Four. It's a down week." You chuckle, shaking your head as your hand continues its exploration, fingertips caressing Arin's delicate folds. "And I suppose you can imagine how I cope," you reply, the sensation of her moistness enveloping your fingers.

"Mmm, you're such a… cocky… ahh. I don't get it, but it works for you, I guess." Arin smiles, her eyes closed as she relaxes into your touch. She tilts her head back and lets out a moan, a soft one that you've come to love and know so well.

"Besides," you continue, cupping her mound with gentle pressure, "we've always been honest with one another. Ryujin knows that I think you have the most exquisite ass of anyone I've been with, even her. And she agrees. There's no lying between us."

"You really think so?"

Before you can respond, your phone illuminates the bedside table, displaying Ryujin's name on the caller ID. You laugh as you lean over to answer the call. Ryujin's voice reaches you, ragged and husky with desire. You're tempted to confirm with Ryujin about Arin's ass, but a greeting is probably more apt here.

"Hey baby," you say as you hold the phone, tracing careful circles on Arin's thigh. "What's up?"

"I miss you," Ryujin breathes, each word punctuated by shallow pants, "so fucking bad."

"I miss you too," you reply, your fingers continuing their gentle exploration along Arin's sensitive folds. "But isn't it a little weird to call your boyfriend while..."

"I'm what?" More breathy gasps betray her feigned innocence.

"Let me guess," you respond, slipping two fingers into Arin and curling inside. "Missionary?"

Ryujin splutters, her voice rising in pitch as she attempts to maintain her façade, while the man she's with muffles a moan in the background. Her laughter transforms from playful to breathless.

"I know what you wanted to say. 'Missionary? Don't insult me.' My mistake," you say, earning a choked noise from the phone in response, yet you continue. "Seems like a cowgirl kind of night."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," she protests, her resistance crumbling under the weight of pleasure. "Ah, ah, fuck..." You can almost picture her at this moment: back arched and head thrown back; ass slamming against the thighs of some other man, each moan like an explosion of color into your imagination.

"So I'm right." You fuck your fingers faster into Arin, the sticky sensation building between your knuckles and the juncture of her thighs; some of it is your creampie, and the rest must be her own juices, because your fingers are sliding in and out with ease. "Lucky guy."

Arin is panting beneath you, face flushed with arousal, rolling her hips in time with your rhythmic thrusting. As you listen to Ryujin's pleasure, Arin grows increasingly impatient. "Please Oppa, please..."

"How's your toy? Is he enjoying himself?" you ask, presenting your fingers to Arin, glistening with a mixture of her essence and your shared passion. A blush spreads across Arin's cheeks as she takes hold of your wrist, her eyes locked on yours. She proceeds to clean your digits with her mouth without breaking eye contact.

"He's a good boy," Ryujin says, "the usual type. I'm showing him the ropes."

You chuckle as you look down at Arin, who takes your fingers deeper and deeper into her throat. She gags, and drool slips from her lips and trickles down her chin. When you finally withdraw your digits, Arin leans over to nibble on your ear and whispers: "I want more."

Instead of responding to Arin's plea, you address Ryujin once more through the phone. "You're so predictable. Let me guess... It's one of those rookie HYBE idols?"

"Maybe," Ryujin manages to reply between breaths, the bed creaking in a rhythm that aligns with her mounting pleasure. "Hmm."

"Can I get a hint?" But instead of a response, all you get is the sound of riding and the faint squelching through your phone.

Arin gazes up at you, her body flushed and needy, a rosy hue spreading across her skin. She grips your shaft firmly, fingers curling around the tip and stroking downward, a small trickle of pre-cum escaping. She mouths, "Oppa, you're hard again."

Ryujin finally speaks up, her voice strained. "Oh, god, I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna—"

"Alright, I guess you can tell me later," you interrupt, ending the call just as Arin hooks her leg over your hip, her slick entrance pressing against your throbbing tip.

Arin drags her folds along your shaft and smears your desire against her sensitive clit. "Don't you want to know?"

"No. I'm like her like that. Easily distracted and—"

Not only your words but your breath are cut off as Arin's eager heat swallows your cock whole, only proving your point.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

"Well, now what?"

Your statement follows a gesture toward the couch where Ryujin and Karina are sitting, the latter sitting on the floor between the former's legs. Ryujin is petting Karina's hair, the soft touch providing a much-needed moment of reprieve. Your living room is always cleaner when your girlfriend is over, and the air is thicker and warmer, too. When Karina comes over, the house feels smaller, as if the walls are pushing in to create an intimate barrier, and the words come easier.

"Not today, honey," Ryujin says softly, but a stern undertone remains in her voice, one that you know means "no" and "back off." She can see the hunger in your eyes, the need for you to finish your conversation from yesterday. But as always she's right: you have a guest.

Karina's voice is hoarse. "I'm sorry for interrupting you guys."

"No, don't apologize," Ryujin soothes. "We've had enough fun."

Karina's gaze is downcast as she rests her head on Ryujin's thighs. "And I'm sorry for crying and ruining the mood. I just..." She lets out a soft sob, sniffles. You pass a tissue box to Ryujin, who in turn passes it to Karina.

"She's right," you say. "Nothing to apologize for, nothing to ruin."

Ryujin continues stroking Karina's hair, a small, encouraging smile on her lips.

"And I wrote all that too... I was being sincere and... to the fans"—every word is strained through a sob—"it must look like I don't care about them at all... I'm so... they're saying I'm an embarrassment."

Ryujin grabs Karina's shoulders, bends down so Karina can look up and make eye contact with her. "Hey, listen to me. I'm serious. I want you to stop apologizing. Stop thinking like that. You haven't done anything wrong."

You and Ryujin let time pass as Karina cries on her shoulder, goes through a whole tissue box, and then more time passes. You're thankful that Ryujin was already here when Karina knocked on your door; it was the perfect excuse to not talk about the real elephant in the room. Now, Ryujin's presence acts as a buffer that prevents the elephant from trampling into the conversation and crushing your living room beneath its massive bulk. (The fact that Karina came to you for comfort does not go unnoticed either.)

"What am I going to do? I can't even see him." She sits up and rubs her eyes. There's little makeup to ruin, yet she still manages to smear the little that there is, leaving her cheeks streaked with black and red. Even then, you can still see how gorgeous she is underneath it all, that kind of beauty that goes beyond skin deep. "My image is ruined."

Ryujin's first step for consolation is pushing a slice of pizza toward Karina, who, despite her nerves, starts scarfing down food like a ravenous wolf. "You? Ruined?" Ryujin laughs sarcastically. "Really, an eleven out of ten international supermodel is being brought to the brink by dating a super nice and well-liked guy. If only I were so lucky," she says, looking at you with a pointed smirk.

("Yah!" you mouth as you both laugh to yourselves, in your own private joke.)

"I want it to be simple," Karina says in between bites. "Just me and the people I care about."

Ryujin raises an eyebrow, a sly smirk playing on her lips. "Does that include me?"

Karina turns a deeper shade of red. She rests her head against Ryujin's knees, her eyes shut tight. "You don't count," she whines. However, it seems to cheer her up.

Your girlfriend chuckles a low and melodious sound that fills the room. "I can't help it," Ryujin says, her hands massaging Karina's shoulders and then running down her back, making her shiver. "I can't seem to keep my hands off of you."

"Y-yah," Karina stammers and then turns around to look at Ryujin with a feigned scowl. "I'm being serious though. Even forgetting about all the stuff that I've said... I'm just so stressed out. It's impossible to make time with him, especially now that it's all out in the open."

"Then don't," Ryujin offers bluntly. You give her a pointed look as if to say "Really? Don't?" But Ryujin ignores you, focusing her attention on Karina. "If it's too complicated then you shouldn't force yourself."

Karina shakes her head vehemently, eyes welling with tears once more.

"I don't mean don't date him!" Ryujin clarifies quickly, then takes a moment to ponder. "I mean, look at us." Ryujin points to herself and then to you, her eyes warm and inviting as she smiles at you. Karina follows Ryujin's line of sight with a tilt of the head.

"I know what you're going to ask," you say, "and yeah, he's already two steps ahead of you. He asked me how me and Ryujin made it work."

"And what did you say?" Karina asks.

"Well, I didn't get into the specifics with him." You were sidetracked with analogies, and you think the less drunk Karina wouldn't appreciate the roundabout method anyway, even if you liken her to a masterpiece of art. And Ryujin, she would appreciate your efforts—she still has the keys you bought her—but would undoubtedly burst out laughing when you got to the point.

Karina sits up straight, her expression eager. "Please tell me, I want to know. How does it work?"

Ryujin giggles while she leans in close to Karina's ear. "You really want to know? I think our arrangement is a little bit different than what you're used to."

"How?" Karina asks, her breath coming out in sharp rasps.

Ryujin runs a finger along Karina's jawline. "We've got quite a few friends, if you haven't noticed."

"What do you mean?" Karina looks so innocent when she's confused, like a lost kitten. So cute.

Ryujin always has the most fun when she's teasing, and the easiest target is often Karina, like this. It's not just teasing the way that actual friends tease: these are the touches she gives to her targets. To her prey. Her fingers brush against Karina's neck, trailing down to the base of her throat.

"I mean…" you start, "so you know how the number one problem is when schedules don't line up? You want to go out on a date, but you're both too busy?"

Karina nods slowly.

Ryujin leans forward, her voice dropping to a low purr. "We have other friends who we can spend time with. People who are also very friendly."

"I-I don't really get how that helps your relationship," Karina says.

"What I'm saying is—"

You stop Ryujin before she can explain further. "Hey, hey, wait, let's not freak her out. I don't think she's ready for that yet. But, I think there's still a point there. You have to be patient. To not be jealous. And, it's easier to do that when you have other people you're spending time with, too."

"That makes sense, I guess," Karina says, her finger on her lips. She lifts her head and traces patterns on Ryujin's knee, absentmindedly.

"Eventually, if it's meant to work out, time will make itself."

Karina sighs, her shoulders slumping. "You're right."

You watch as she closes her eyes meditatively and clasps her hands together. You exchange glances with Ryujin, who shrugs, and you both sit in silence for a few moments, waiting for her to finish. Finally, she opens her eyes with determination. You've never seen such fire in her eyes before.

"Alright, I can do this." Karina pumps her fists in the air, and you can practically see the confidence radiating from her.

"Good girl," Ryujin says, which earns an indignant huff from Karina.

"Shut up." Karina crosses her arms and sticks out her tongue. "I'm not a child," she says, like a child.

"If you're going to keep saying sorry all the time, you're acting like a child," Ryujin responds teasingly.

"Shut up!" Karina pushes Ryujin back onto the couch and climbs on top of her. Ryujin laughs but doesn't push back, not resisting as Karina leans forward and pins her to the cushions. You can tell that Karina is just playing around, and the sudden silence from Ryujin is genuine. Karina gets off of Ryujin's lap, a blush spreading across her cheeks when she sees your stare.

You, Ryujin, and Karina manage to move on and spend the rest of the night playing board games and chatting casually. Most of the conversation revolves around you recounting stories from your filming sets and Ryujin giving you a hard time about your acting, while Karina listens attentively to the both of you. Eventually, when the late hour strikes, the conversation slows to a halt. Ryujin yawns and stretches, and Karina is cuddled up with her.

"Hey, Karina," you say. "Are you going to go home tonight?"

"Huh?" Karina replies, opening her eyes. "I thought I would sleep over."

Ryujin nudges Karina. "Wow, how bold of you, sleeping at your ex's place. Were you gonna do it even if I wasn't here?"

"Yah!" Karina squeals, jumping up. "That's not what I meant, I wouldn't do that!"

"I'm just messing with you. I'm staying here tonight, too. And you..." She makes a pointed glare at you. "You're sleeping on the couch tonight, right?"

"This is my house," you say, sighing, as you watch the two girls leave for your bedroom, and you fetch a blanket and pillow for yourself.

One night of sleep on your sofa is a small price to pay to see them so happy together.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

"W-well..."

It's been a while since you've been in such a compromising position. Ryujin is on top of you, her hips pinning you to the bed. You're lying on your back like a helpless lamb to the slaughter, no room for resistance when her fingers trail along your chest, collect beads of sweat from the surface of your skin. Your hands are also pinned, under the diligent grip of Haewon, eyes possibly more watchful than Ryujin's own—they're pencils, pens, chisel to the marble statue of your form. If Ryujin's hands were to strike at that very moment, would you crumble into dust, or be reduced to a pile of rubble? Haewon, the interloper, the invader of privacy who has no reason to be in this room, is nude as well, her full breasts bared before you, nipples taut and erect. As if to invite the touch that you can't give and wish you could. Haewon's tits are bigger than Ryujin's, and she looks at you like she knows it, all the more eager to tease you with her assets. You've already had your chance to savor those breasts—Haewon let you play with them for a while—but now you're stuck and happily stuck if you had to admit it.

"Well," Ryujin echoes, like the natural formation of a canyon could mock the rockiness of your voice, "what now?"

Your breath falls off a cliff.

"Isn't there something you want to say? Come on, Oppa. Tell us what you did wrong," Ryujin coaxes as she leans forward and presses her lips to yours. Her tongue probes into your mouth to deepen the kiss while her hips grind against yours in a tantalizing rhythm. She pulls away suddenly and chuckles.

This is a bad cop, bad cop situation. You gulp. "I'm sorry."

"'Sorry' isn't what we're looking for," Haewon says, low. This is one way to meet someone for the first time; somehow, this suits whatever image you had of her, based on Ryujin's stories, or based on how she is behind the camera. But now she has both eyes on you, and those eyes are like the barrel of a gun, and that gun is pointed straight at you. It's not like you haven't been in more compromising situations—but this feels more dangerous. It's in the way that your girlfriend and the newcomer are so alike in their ability to control the expression of their face: it's like watching two puppeteers exchange roles seamlessly. When Ryujin looks at you, and then at Haewon—the way that the smirk on Ryujin's face changes in tone when she turns to her friend—the way her eyes soften, then her cheeks turn rosy—the way that when Haewon crinkles her nose in disapproval, Ryujin pouts in return—and then they both look back at you with narrow-eyed disappointment; it's all so precise, you might think this is a rehearsed scene. Haewon knows how to play along with the moment, even if you're certain she has no context.

Ryujin asks you another question: "Are you gonna keep acting like this?"

"Acting like what?" you reply, your voice a croak. Your throat is dry, your pulse pounding. The heat of arousal is pooling in your groin. You swallow hard as Ryujin shifts her position to grind herself against your clothed shaft. She leans forward to capture your lips once again, to kiss you passionately, to plunder your mouth with the reckless abandon of her tongue.

"Like you didn't make Karina cry," Ryujin mumbles in between kisses. She pulls away slowly, a thin strand of saliva connecting her lips to yours.

"So this is my fault, and not, I don't know, her actual boyfriend?" You prop yourself up by your elbows, halfway sitting up. You take a glance at Haewon. "Besides, what's she doing here? No offense"—Haewon shrugs—"but this doesn't involve you."

"I'm just here to have fun," she says. "And I'm here because Ryujin wanted me here."

You look back at your girlfriend. "Babe..."

Ryujin cups your chin and tilts your head towards her. Her eyes meet yours, fiery determination reflected in the depths of her gaze. "Karina came to me crying. And guess what? It's because you broke her heart."

"What? That's impossible. How? I didn't do anything to her."

"No? That's not what she told me." Ryujin's tone is flat and level. She's not angry. But there's a weight in her words that strikes fear into your heart, a cold dread that runs down your spine like liquid ice. "You were supposed to be the most amazing boyfriend. And yet you broke her heart."

The thing with timing and love and circumstance and all the little things that make or break a relationship is that it's so easy to fuck up without realizing it. What happened between you and Karina, you would rather ascribe to fate's hands; truth is these hands are invisible because they don't exist, and it's the fault of your own for faltering. In a different time, you would not have met Ryujin after you and Karina broke up—in that other time, you would have been patient, and that other time is in a way so much more rational, because who would not wait for Karina? By all measures, she is worth the wait. But you were greedy, and that greed led you to Ryujin. Your lust got the best of you, and in return, so did your love for both of them.

Ryujin must have seen something in your expression that she takes as guilt because she releases your wrists and places her hands on either side of your face, holding your head steady as she studies your features. For a single second, that tight control over her facial muscles falters, which reveals an uncommon hurt in her eyes.

"You know what? This isn't the time," she whispers. "Not with our friend here." She nods toward Haewon, who gives you a cheerful wave in return.

"Hey, don't let me stop you. If you wanted to talk, then maybe we should have done this one on one."

"No," Ryujin replies, shaking her head. "It's not that serious. I just..."

You lean forward and press a kiss to the tip of Ryujin's nose, hoping that it will calm her nerves. "I know, I know. You actually care about her. I do too. I did. Let's... we can figure this out later."

Your next kiss is not so chaste. You plant a trail of kisses down Ryujin's cheek to the corner of her mouth. Her hands travel along the curve of your jaw, they tangle in your hair, and then she deepens the kiss. Her tongue slips past your teeth, presses her body closer to yours, molds your chests together, her perky breasts a sweet contrast against your hard muscles. You have the thought: what would your observer's tits feel like instead?

"Wow. So sweet," Haewon says quietly as she watches the two of you making out. "I guess I am just here to watch." She shifts her position to rest against the headboard of your bed, giving her an unobstructed view of you and Ryujin.

Ryujin lets out a soft whimper as your hand grazes her inner thigh. "No, come here, Haewon," she whispers, patting the spot next to her.

Haewon glances between the two of you with uncertainty before she slowly rises and climbs onto the bed beside Ryujin, where she scoots close to her friend. She keeps her eyes glued to yours and cups Ryujin's face in her hands and leans forward; they kiss. Haewon closes her eyes and moans softly as Ryujin trails kisses down the column of her throat, nibbles at her pulse point.

Sex isn't an answer or a reward or a conversation; it's the spark, the catalyst, the fuel on the fire, all of them mixed into one. And when that spark meets the catalyst meets the fuel on the fire, there are only more questions left over from the remnants of the explosion—and their answers can wait until tomorrow. But for now, when Ryujin's breath tickles your earlobe as she whispers her dirty fantasies, Haewon is kissing a line down your girlfriend's neck; it's in that moment that you don't have room to care about the consequences when this all started and where this will go; instead, you have all night with these two beauties who are so hot and heavy and ready to fuck.

Ryujin's hand snakes down your abs and wraps around your cock, stroking you slowly. You moan as her fingers tease your sensitive flesh.

"You better keep up" almost sounds like an insult.

You will.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

"Well, now what?"

"Should I just break it off? One shot, clean?" Jaewook grabs a bite of steak, sitting across from you in this private room. There are a couple of other actors too, all the same year as you, but they're lost in their own conversations. You're always surprised that Jaewook isn't the center of attention, even with the Damoclesian sword of news hanging over him; then again, all these people are too experienced with the entertainment industry to be swept up by the headlines.

You wish it were that simple is something you wish you could tell him. You wish you could tell him about the time you and Karina dated, and how SM caught the two of you, forced you to break up since she was just a rookie. How you've been friends since. And how every string, between you and Karina, between you and Ryujin, between Ryujin and Karina, are tangled together too tightly for any clean cut to break the web. You want to tell him because if there's anyone who could understand, it's him. But you also know he can't hear it yet, no matter how much you want to get it off your chest.

"Hey, man, I can't tell you what to do," you say instead, sipping your drink. "But it seems like you're enjoying yourself with her."

"That's not the problem," Jaewook says. He gulps before he admits to you, quietly: "Karina isn't the only one."

Your eyes widen, and you almost choke on your food. You cough and try to catch your breath. "You're kidding," you say. "Who else?"

He gives you a rueful smile. "I can't tell you. I promised I wouldn't."

"But then what about Karina? You know every man in Korea would take your place," you point out.

He shakes his head. "I don't know about that. You know, I haven't even seen her in person once since the whole thing started. It's just... a bunch of texts and calls, and the occasional voice chat. It's like a Bubble subscription that I don't pay for."

You laugh. Think back to the time you were in a similar situation with Ryujin, or even Karina herself. "Sure, but I'm sure you're more patient than that."

"Well, yeah, but... it's still hard, you know? I don't know how long I can keep doing this."

You frown and nod slowly. "I get it. You're a good guy. And I know you don't want to hurt either of them."

"I mean, if it's just Karina, I wouldn't mind," he says, chuckling. "But with Somin—" He puts his hand over his mouth, looking around the room.

You can only laugh. "You're hopeless, man," you say. It's easy to picture him and Somin, even though you've only seen them together in one project because you remember the same way she'd look at you when she's having a good time; it's that sort of trust that makes it so easy to fall into a relationship with a co-star. There's a perfect contrast between them: him, sharp on the outside, a teddy bear on the inside; her, a sweet tooth on the outside, a firecracker on the inside. Then, there's that weird sort of chemistry actors have with one another—you and Ryujin always joke about it when she sees you on set with another woman, as though you're both acting like you're not dating. She gets it; she's an idol too.

"I'm so fucked," Jaewook groans. He takes a long sip of his drink before he turns to you with an anxious expression.

He slumps in his chair, and Dohoon calls out from across the table. "Hey, Jaewook, you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," he says, waving his hand. "I'm fine. Just tired."

"Ah, we're all tired," Dohoon replies with a grin.

"You know, you should get some sleep, Jaewook," you suggest. "You look like you could use it."

"Hey, I'm fine," he says, shaking his head. Jaewook talks about how he and his former costar get to meet up more often, maybe because she's an actress instead of an idol. You already see how this is going to play out, the story written many times before. You try your best to listen, but all you can think about is how your friend is falling deeper and deeper into something he doesn't even realize yet. "We went out for drinks last week," he says.

"I don't blame you," you say, "but I really think you should try to focus on just one person. Even if none of you are actually dating yet." You want to laugh at yourself. How ridiculous of you, a hypocrite to lecture him like this.

"Yeah... I guess you're right." Jaewook scratches the back of his neck, nodding sheepishly. His hand slides down to rest on his chest as he glances at his phone on the table. Another missed call from Karina flashes across the screen before disappearing again.

"Answer that, dumbass." You point. He gives you a look."You act like I'm your personal probation officer."

"I mean, it's kinda true. I'm obviously gonna call back in a second. You know, as soon as you shut up."

You chuckle. "Fine. See, this is why you gotta be more like me. Don't complicate things with what ifs and whatever, just tell Karina straight up."

"You mean, tell her about Somin?"

"No, not that, obviously. That it won't work with you. Look, I'm sure the two of you knew what you were getting into, right? I mean, you knew she was an idol, you knew how hard it'd be to make it work, and you went in knowing that it was just going to be flirting, right? So just go to her and say, 'Hey, this isn't working. Sorry about that. Let's stay friends.'"

"Yeah, but—"

You shake your head. "Trust me. You wanna know how me and Ryujin work it out?"

Jaewook nods. "Oh yeah, you never did answer that."

"We've got friends. Lots of 'em. And I'm not talking about the same friend either. I mean, 'friends'," you say, wiggling your eyebrows. You can see the realization dawning on him, his expression a mix of confusion and curiosity and there's the blush and then there's the laughter and finally, acceptance.

"Oh. Oh... I see."

You smile. "So you get it now."

"Kind of? I'm not stupid, I know what you mean. I'm just having trouble seeing how that helps your relationship."

"Less stress, more fun. Don't overcomplicate things."

"Ah," he says, chuckling. "I see. So you're saying... I should get more 'friends'?"

"No, not like that," you say, laughing. "I mean, you do what you want, and I'm sure you're almost as handsome as me to pull it off—"

"You're full of shit," Jaewook retorts, and you both laugh.

You both return to your meals and after a few bites, you have a final piece for him. "But honestly though, if you like Somin, you should go for it. Don't worry about what other people think. I don't have to tell you to let Karina down easily, you know that. But from what I know about her, it's worth stressing that it's not her fault. It's the world's fault. She'll believe you."

He smiles sincerely. "Thank you."

"And above all else, be firm." God, you sound like his dad or uncle or something; the two of you are the same age. You continue regardless, "Otherwise, you'll end up like me, stuck sharing my girl and having to sleep on a couch."

"That bad, huh?"

"Yep. It's terrible. Now make your goddamn call."

You'd think a man like him would be more steadfast. That the truths within himself would come more obviously. Obvious. The word itself is not so. How easily swayed. But does that make you any better?

✦✧✦✧✦✧

"Well, now what?"

"I don't know," Ryujin replies to you. She's in the passenger seat of your car, the two of you parked in some indoor parking lot, and she looks like she's just done fucking you in the backseat because she's just done fucking you in the backseat, her hair sticking to her sweaty skin, even the parts you can't see under her clothes. Karina had the correct idea, wanting things to be simple. That's why you and Ryujin always make time like this—to talk and fuck, then talk again. Most likely fuck again right after.

A blush crosses her face when she notices you staring at her in the mirror. You appreciate in these moments when she's cute and still trying to figure out her breathing.

"No, actually, I do know," she says, like she caught it.

"What?" you ask. You open your arms out. Ryujin presses herself against your chest. You wrap around her waist, bring her close, tight, only in the way that two lovers so sure of themselves can do. You and she stay like this for a while, her soft breaths tickling your neck while she relaxes against you. "You wanna tell me instead of talking in puzzles? That's pretty new for you."

Ryujin sighs, rests her head on your shoulder. "I'm not sure what to do," she says.

"About what?" you ask. You press a kiss to the top of her head, and she smiles and nuzzles against you.

"Well, Karina..."

"What is it?"

"She's cute."

You laugh."Yeah, I agree."

Ryujin looks like she's steeling herself to say something. Again, it's adorable, how she readies her eyes, breathes out slowly, and clenches her fist. "Here it comes. Okay. I can say this." (Watching her go through this routine has your eyebrows almost permanently raised.) "I like Yu Jimin. I really like her."

You start half of a laugh in disbelief. Then, it becomes a full laugh. When Ryujin looks at you with utter disbelief at the audacity you're showing her, you reach over and grab her ass, squeezing it, and that earns you a squeal from Ryujin.

"That's what you were worried about?" you ask.

Ryujin nods, a sheepish smile on her lips. "You..." She narrows her eyes and hits you in the shoulder. "I'm being serious!"

"I know you are, baby."

"So why aren't you freaking out or anything?"

"Really? Do I even have to say why not?"

"I-I mean, like, I know we have the whole deal and whatnot, but that's different. That's just fucking. I... I truly, actually love Karina."

"And I've noticed that," you reply.

You pull her in for a kiss, lips parting as you cup her head in your hands. Your tongue flicks out against her lower lip and taste the salty tang of perspiration and saliva. Whatever steady rhythm she's caught has re-unsteadied, her motions still fervent and rushed. Every time you make out with her in your front seat, you recall the first time after picking her up from a radio show, remember how you'd fucked her on the stairs of her dorm afterward, in her bed while Lia and Yeji were in the living room, how the two of you snuck out. The memory gets you hard, and she's already noticed.

Ryujin breaks the kiss to stare at your hard cock in disbelief like she can't comprehend how you've managed to recover so fast despite already understanding your stamina. But she's also gasping, gulping air down. 

"Goddammit, hold on," she says, holds your shoulders, and pushes away from you as she leans back. "I was saying something."

"Oh. Yeah. Karina." You wipe your lips, some saliva dribbling on your hand. "Please, I don't even get why we're having this conversation. Aren't you supposed to be the observant one?"

"Well, because you're my boyfriend," she says, matter-of-factly. "And I'm your girlfriend. That's why we're talking about it. That was the first thing we talked about when it came to this open relationship thing, what to do about real emotions and feelings and shit."

"Good point. But why are you worried about how I feel about Karina? You know that we're all friends here, that we didn't break up on bad terms or anything. So if there's anyone I trust you with, it's her. Besides, I see how you look at her. And touch her. Shit, aren't you two close enough to be a thing?"

"I don't know." Ryujin shakes her head. "Maybe we are, but I don't know if she feels the same way."

"Why would she play along if she didn't like you?"

"I don't know," she says again, sounding exasperated. "I always get the feeling that maybe she's just being nice. Besides, look at her, goody two shoes. I bet she thinks if she accidentally looks at boobs other than her own in the mirror, she'd go to hell."

The picture of Karina turning herself on with her own nude body in the mirror has both you and Ryujin distracted, mouth open, picturing. It's funny how in sync the two of you are, and when you realize it, you and Ryujin start laughing.

"I wouldn't put it past her to do that," you say.

"Maybe I'm right," Ryujin retorts. "God, her body... Seriously, I always love getting an eyeful whenever she comes over and insists to stay in her pajamas."

"Pft. Trust me, those types of girls... Half the time they're exactly as they appear. The other half of the time, they're secretly kinky bitches who'll tie you up and fuck you until you beg for mercy. But you'll still get hard for them."

"Wow, that's deep," Ryujin says, smirking. "That from experience? You fucking Christian girls without me?"

"Meh, I just knew the type." You shrug.

"Wait a second, did you and Karina—"

"No, no, we didn't get that far back then. Trust me, I'd be surprised at who I am right now."

"Yeah, an absolute manwhore."

You raise your hands in surrender. "I get the point." You look up at Ryujin, the moonlight filtering through her hair and outlining her face. "But back on topic, I think you should just tell her how you feel."

"But what if she doesn't feel the same way? Or if she does, what if she gets scared off? She's really sensitive about that stuff. I don't want to push her too far, and our friendship is important to me." Ryujin looks down; it's the most serious you've ever seen her about anything other than dancing, music, and you. You know in the whole list of priorities, her friendships are always number one, and you've always conceded to that. "If we couldn't do it, I would be fine with that."

"I don't know, just take it slow. Don't go in for a kiss, just... try something. Hold her hand. If she's uncomfortable, she'll let you know. And if she doesn't, then..." You trail off, the implication hanging heavy in the air.

Ryujin nods, but there's still a hint of doubt in her voice when she replies. "I can try, I guess. Thanks, baby."

You reach out and grab her hand, lacing your fingers together. The two of you stay like that for a few moments, listening to the faint sounds of the night, speeding cars, and distant cicadas crying out. You speak up, your voice low. "I have some insider news for you."

"Hm?"

"She's going to need a shoulder to cry on."

Ryujin contemplates it; you're unsure how deeply as you lean the driver seat back while Ryujin pushes down on your shoulders. The car bumps to a musical rhythm, silent save for the soft moans and groans.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

Well, now what's on your doorstep is a peculiar combination, really. Sieun and Somi don't have much in common besides their time at JYP and being idols. Oh, and they both speak English, although Somi is more fluent. But Sieun isn't too shabby at it either. Fortunately, they both possess a natural charm when it comes to meeting new people, allowing them to quickly form a bond, especially in the heat of the moment. Maybe you would’ve preferred just one, or just the other. Yet, you couldn't help it. You were double-booked.

“I’m sure we can work something out between the three of us,” Somi says with a smirk while comparing her forearm to your length, and Sieun nods.

Next thing you know, Sieun is taking the head of your cock into her mouth, her lips forming a perfect circle. The sensation of her warm tongue against your shaft sends hot pulses through your body, and her fingers wrap around the base of your member, around the head of your member when it strokes up.

Meanwhile, Somi directs her attention towards your balls as her hot breath tickles your sack. She skillfully licks, kisses, and sucks on them. The synchronization between the two is impeccable as if they have engaged in this act together countless times before (which they haven't because this is only their third time ever having seen each other in person). Your eyes are fixated on Somi's breasts, a stark contrast to Sieun's. Somi's bosom is larger and bounces like a buoy with each bob of her head. Her nipples are erect as well like two tiny beacons calling you to touch her.

Sieun slows down and pulls back just enough to leave her lips wrapped around your cockhead before she looks up at you through long, full lashes. The corners of her mouth are upturned into a smile. She swirls her tongue around the head of your member while her hand continues to stroke your base. Gazes up at you, her lips now red and slightly swollen. "You like watching me suck you off, don't you?"

"I love it," you say, your voice husky. "Your mouth feels so good."

She grins, her tongue flicking out to lick the tip of your dick. "You want more?"

"Fuck yes."

Somi, sensing your distraction, switches to teasing your shaft with her tongue and lips and hands. "What about me? What do you think about my mouth?"

"Y-yes," you reply, panting. You run your fingers through Somi's hair. "Your tits and your lips and your tongue... you look so fucking hot like this."

Somi hums in acknowledgment as she slides her tongue along the underside of your shaft, then lowers back to your balls, where her hands cup and gently massage them. "Mmm," she says, the vibrations of her voice on your testicles causing your thighs to tremble. "I'm gonna make you feel so good."

Your hips buck at the combined efforts of the girls' ministrations, their hot breaths and moist mouths covering every inch of your lower body. You think you've reached the peaks of your pleasure already when Somi ventures lower at the same time as Sieun. While Sieun puts her hands behind her back and uses only her lips to take you in, Somi spreads your cheeks open with both hands. And before you can even react, Somi's tongue is already pushing into your hole, hot and slick against your sensitive skin. The pleasure from her licking and probing your pucker sends waves of euphoria throughout your body. You moan louder than expected and grip the bedsheets tightly while your muscles contract involuntarily.

As Sieun takes in more of your shaft into her mouth, Somi withdraws her tongue, only to replace it with a finger, slick with saliva. It pushes past your rim with relative ease, but it still stings, and you let out a low hiss through your teeth as she slowly inserts her digit. You must already be unloading pre-cum into Sieun's mouth because that's the experience you've had with Ryujin whenever she's done this to you in the past. Somi only leaves a knuckle deep inside your hole, which is all she needs while her tongue returns to tease your balls. The feeling of her lips and teeth grazing your sack is a stark contrast to her gentle touch inside of you. When she pulls her finger back out, she replaces it with her tongue once again. She licks your rim in an almost lazy manner as if she doesn't care that she's doing this and could continue for hours.

The combination of their mouths and tongues and hands has your head spinning and vision blurring—you've drunk too much, yet your mouth is so dry.

Unfortunately, it appears that your girlfriend possesses some sort of uncanny radar for interrupting your most intimate moments. Your cell phone relentlessly rings and buzzes on the bedside table, disrupting the erotic symphony unfolding before you.

"Answer it," Somi says, looking up at you from between your legs. "I'm not stopping."

You reach out and grab your phone, your hand shaking. "H-hello?"

"Hey, baby. What are you up to?" Ryujin's voice sounds amused on the other end of the line.

You can only breathe heavily, between the woman slurping on your cock, and the other one keeping her promised tongue in your most sensitive region. "No, nothing. Just watching a movie." You’re not sure yourself why you lied there. Usually, that’s Ryujin, teasing you about who she’s with.

"Oh really? What's it about?" Ryujin's voice drips with curiosity.

You grunt as you desperately try to collect your thoughts amidst the tantalizing distractions. "Um... it's about this girl who's obsessed with her ex."

"That sounds interesting," she replies, her tone laced with amusement. "So, how is she obsessed?"

A shudder runs through your body as Sieun and Somi persist in their arousing endeavors, their tongues continuing to lavish attention upon your member and balls. "Um... she's like... she can't get over him, so she stalks him and stuff. But he's dating someone else now, and she's not happy about it."

"I see," Ryujin responds. "Sounds like quite a crazy movie you're watching."

"Mmhm," you manage to reply, struggling to suppress a moan as Somi grabs a bundle of Sieun's hair with her free hand and forces her further down onto your cock, her nose pressed against your pelvis, her lips stretched wide around your thick girth. A gag escapes from Sieun as she coughs and chokes on your meaty shaft for a moment. When she withdraws slightly, bubbles of spit form at the corner of her mouth, trailing down the shaft of your member and collecting in Somi's hands, and then she completely removes your cock from her mouth with an audible pop, a string of saliva dangling between her lips and your shaft.

"What happens next?" Ryujin asks on the other end of the phone.

"I don't know," you breathe out, trying to keep your voice steady despite the current events. "We're just starting. I don't know what the ending will be yet."

"I think I have an idea of where it might go," Ryujin says."By the way," Ryujin's voice interrupts your pleasure-induced haze, "before you cum down her throat, put me on speaker. I want to talk to her."

Your eyes widen in disbelief, a mix of pleasure and panic coursing through your veins. "What? No—"

"Put it on speaker," she insists firmly.

With a groan of surrender, you comply, hitting the speaker button on your phone and placing it on your stomach.

"Hey there, I'm Ryujin, and I'm this guy's girlfriend," Ryujin says, her voice coming out as a purr. "Do you mind telling me what you're doing to him right now?"

Sieun wipes her mouth with the back of her hand before replying. "O-oh, hey," she says as if she has any clue what's going on. "I-It's Sieun. Hi."

Ryujin gasps. "Sieun! It's been so long! We haven't met since you were in JYP. How've you been?"

Sieun's cheeks flush a deep pink, and she responds, "Um, good! I-I'm doing good."

Meanwhile, Somi doesn't even try to hide her grin as she takes over suction duty, her lips wrapped tightly around your shaft. You can feel her tongue swirling and teasing your tip, driving you wild with pleasure.

"Wait a minute..." Ryujin says. "Who's that? Is that another person?"

"Hah, Ryujih," Somi says, her voice muffled by your dick.

"No way," Ryujin laughs. "I can't believe this. Is that you, Somi?"

Somi spits out your dick and sits up straight. "Yep, it's me."

"Wah, wooow. You know, I definitely expected you, and maybe Sieun a little bit, but the two of you together... Wow. I never would've guessed. But, I mean, if you're both in on it, then I guess it's okay."

"Y-yeah," you say, trying to catch your breath as Somi resumes her assault on your senses.

"So, how do you feel about sucking my boyfriend's cock?" Ryujin asks, her voice filled with curiosity. "Is it good? Does it taste good?"

Sieun's eyes are half-lidded with lust, and she whispers, "It's really good."

"And what about you, Somi? You like sucking his dick too?"

"Yeah, it's great," Somi says, giggling. "He's so big."

Ryujin chuckles. "Oh my god. I can't believe it. You two are actually sucking his dick right now, aren't you? This isn't a prank call or something? Woah, I'm seriously in awe, you guys. That's awesome. I wish I could join in."

You moan, your cock throbbing between Somi and Sieun's mouths as Ryujin continues to chat with them, her voice a soothing balm to your frayed nerves. It's a surreal experience, how casually she's speaking with them about sucking your dick, and yet there they are, eagerly obeying her every command. Ryujin tells them to take turns deepthroating you—they comply, their tongues caressing your shaft while their lips wrap tightly around your base. Then, Ryujin tells Somi to cover your cock in spit, and Somi does so: saliva drips from her lips as she drools all over your shaft. Next, Ryujin commands Sieun to lick Somi's spit off your balls, and Sieun happily laps up every drop before Ryujin has Somi spit again. Ryujin tells them to make out for as long as possible while simultaneously trying to fit your cock between their lips, and Somi and Sieun do just that—they kiss as if their lives depended on it, unwilling to separate from one another until the last moment when they have to come up for air.

"Okay, I've had enough fun for now. I can make myself cum later with this," Ryujin says, panting. You picture her on her bed, phone in one hand and the other down her panties. "You can go off speaker now. I have something else to tell you, Oppa."

You take the phone off speaker and hold it up to your ear. "What is it?"

"First of all, I asked Karina out," she says, all excited. "Made it clear it was a date. And she was confused, and I think she still kinda is. But that's fine."

"Great for you," you say.

"Are you busy Saturday night?" Ryujin asks.

"Should be okay." This one comes out breathily as Somi starts to wrap her tits around your shaft.

"Perfect. Perfect. I think it'll be a lot better if you're there. Just in case. And maybe we can figure something out. So the other thing is you better..."

You forgot what she said, right up until your climax, when the order comes back to you. It was quite hard deciding on which idol to cum inside. Ultimately, Sieun took your creampie gladly, while Somi seemed happier at the chance of eating that same load out of Sieun.

No wonder you're so devoted to Ryujin: for this night alone, she deserves more than she knows.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

"Well, now what?" becomes Jaewook's question, and it's funny hearing it from him. The expected headlines are out now, busy schedule, break-up, blah, blah, blah. Somehow, he's made much more time for Somin, and you don't necessarily blame him for it. He's getting a lot less dumb hate, and for that, you're happy for him. But then, there are the headlines featuring you, and a certain two other idols at a cafe in the countryside. Seriously, the town has a population you can count on your fingers and toes. How did that happen?

You look around Jaewook's house; it's much nicer than yours, although it's a shame it's so empty with how big the rooms are. You notice yellow flowers on a stand; he has a good sense for fashion, not as much for interior decorating—that's the work of a woman with an eye for color. You can't help but wonder how close they are, to know so much about one another. You're not jealous. People find their own ways, and those ways change with the people they meet, or lose. You can't be jealous. Everything gained for one is everything lost for another.

Karina, in this way, is everything.

"I knew this would happen." Jaewook laughs to himself.

"You couldn't dream of a tenth of it."

"Alright, keep the mystery to yourself. I'm happy as is."

You nod, sipping your beer. "So, how's Somin?"

"She's good," he says, with a shrug. "A lot more time for each other. Just like you said."

"You don't regret anything?"

"I mean... obviously, you've got to, at least a little bit, right? You know, someone told me, if it's Karina, you clear your schedule, you quit your job, you better move the world for her. I've thought about it. But, there's no point in dwelling on it."

You can't help but let a grin spread across your face. "You know, I bet she's a lot less uptight."

"Really? I didn't get that notion from Karina the times we talked... but I guess we never got that deep."

You shrug. "We can't all be lucky as you and me."

"You say that, but you're the one with a girlfriend who knows exactly how to keep you happy. And now, two girlfriends?"

"It's complicated. Karina, well... she's just a friend. But, you know, I just wanted to hear it from you. We're cool, right? Like, you have nothing against me?" you ask.

"Sure," Jaewook says, "whatever. When I found out you two were exes, I realized everything. In fact, are you sure you can keep doing... whatever it is you and Ryujin do?"

"That's a good point. I guess, hm, I'll cross that bridge when we get there. But forget about that. We're good?"

"Yeah," he says. "We're good."

You clink your beers together. "Great."

Guys are easy, you've learned. Even the ones who are your supposed competition in life are simple as hell. It's a blessing and a curse that a beer and a lent ear are all it takes. And even if Jaewook didn't need it, you needed his. He was right, as much as you don't want to admit. The question of how you and Ryujin can keep things up without hurting Karina is something you haven't considered in any depth. And now that the thought is planted in your head, it's all you can think about.

When it comes to girls...

They're easy too, you've learned. But then, they're also difficult, not by some inherent property, but by the world making it so. Maybe you can graze at this feeling, with the challenges and expectations and scrutinies as an actor, but if you ever felt the need to write an apology for having your own heart and your own mind—then, you'd presume, fault lays on the shoulders of others, not yourself.

No. It's not about guys, girls, or the world and its difficulty.

It's you and the mess that you've made.

Then again, there is no real harm in making some more.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

"Well, now what?"

You're at a party, a surprisingly big one for you, for once. There are some familiar faces, and some not so familiar. Most importantly, your two girlfriends are there. How's that for a statement? That's right, Ryujin and Karina, your hot and sexy threesome girlfriends, together at a party with you.

It's been a week or two since the gossip went viral. No one believes the three of you are dating, and that would be the truth. A more accurate assessment of the current situation is that you're dating Ryujin and Ryujin is dating Karina. Considering the history between you and Karina, you'd say that's for the better.

At this moment, you're not together with Ryujin and Karina at the party, unsure where either of them went. Instead, you're on the third floor of this huge house, sharing some strong, over-sweet mixed drink with Minji, Yoonjung, Jiwon, and Soobin. You're surprised to see Minji here at all, considering she just started drinking recently. If anything, you'd think she might join the other fromis_9 girls in their own circle. Meanwhile, as expected, Jiwon is the odd Fromis member out, the loudest, the social butterfly. Yoonjung is the only fellow actor, who of course you know from Jaewook, so most of your time is spent talking to her, and so far, Soobin hasn't said much. Didn't expect him to. So you're surprised when he speaks up first.

"What do you mean?" he asks.

"What do you mean 'what do you mean'?" you reply.

"Like, when you say 'now what?' Because you say that a lot," Soobin replies, in a measured tone.

"Uh... I dunno. I kinda just get bored sitting still. I wanna know what's the next scoop, or what's the next move, whatever. Like, what's your plan now? I'm surprised that you're already done with Ryujin. It's only been a few weeks. What happened?"

Soobin places his hand over your mouth and pulls you away from the girls to the corner of the room—looks almost like a kidnapping, making Minji and Jiwon's eyes wide. His smile placates them, that damned adorable smile. "Yah," he says, "what's wrong with you? You can't just say that."

To be fair, the music was loud, and the conversation was very hush. You smile sheepishly. "Sorry. Guess I'll play it safer next time. Oh, come on, we're all celebrities here, I think everyone knows about Ryujin and I by now. And Karina too. And you, and Yunjin, and Yeonjun, and—"

He laughs. "You're so funny. Seriously, you're going to give me a heart attack."

You snort. "Alright, alright, whatever. But you're done with her?"

"Yeah, well," Soobin leans in to whisper, "she's been killing me recently."

You don't need him to elaborate further. You understand. "Sorry to hear that. She's a lot of work, huh?"

"Don't I know it." He takes a sip of his drink and shakes his head. "But it's fine. I mean, it's not like it's just me. Everyone else is dealing with it, too. I feel bad for the guy she's dating now."

You raise an eyebrow. "I'm doing just fine, thank you very much."

Soobin chuckles. "Oh yeah, sure. You're a real saint, you know that? I don't know how you manage her, let alone all the other girls."

"It's not that hard," you say, smirking. "You just gotta be smart about it."

Soobin nods, taking another swig of his drink. "You make it sound like a piece of cake. I think I need a break for now."

"Alright, thanks for letting me know. You didn't have to, or anything, it's really between you and her, but whatever. You're a great guy. If you ever want to try again, I'm sure she's down, but you could let me know too. I'll put in a good word." You bump his shoulder. "Just buy me some chicken or something."

"Deal," Soobin says. You're about to leave before you hear Soobin say, "Yeah." He laughs, maybe a tad too loudly, and shakes his head in disbelief. "You're so ridiculous. This is so ridiculous."

The two of you exchange a brief hug before parting ways, leaving you alone in the crowd of people. You take out your phone and check the messages from Karina, asking if you're free tonight. You know she's probably upstairs hanging out with the JYP girls, like Chaeyoung and Haewon, although you're not sure who else is at this party. But, as much as you'd like to, you can't be everywhere. You send a reply that you're still busy drinking with Minji and Jiwon, and you'll see her soon enough.

As you slip your phone back into your pocket, a familiar deep voice cuts through the ambient noise and captures your attention. "Hey, babe. You got a moment?"

You turn, and there she is, Ryujin, approaching with her signature magnetic allure. Clad in a black minidress that clings to her curves, her stilettos click against the ground with each step. You can tell she isn't bothering with a bra underneath, as her chest sways with each movement, her nipples straining against the fabric. Her flawless makeup accentuates her features, while soft waves of hair cascade around her shoulders. "Sure," you reply, unable to resist the pull she has on you, and then embrace her in a quick hug.

Grabbing your arm, Ryujin pulls you closer. "I need you. Now."

"For what?" you respond, unable to suppress a smirk.

She licks her lips. "How about we go somewhere more private?"

You nod, your heartbeat quickening at the thought. It's not like this is your first time with her, but it always feels like it. Her presence has a way of commanding attention, especially when she's looking as sexy as she is now. "Lead the way."

The two of you make your way through the crowd of people, heading towards the stairs. You catch sight of Yuna and Yeji on the second-floor landing, speaking animatedly with a group of people. Avoiding eye contact with Yeji (things are complicated enough as is), you instead make eye contact with Karina in the circle. You're not sure you can decipher her expression so quickly, but she waves at you and smiles, before returning to whatever conversation she's having. Return the gesture and keep following Ryujin, who leads you down the hall. You notice a couple making out against the wall, and Ryujin glances at them before giving you a wink. She pulls you into one of the rooms, closes the door behind you.

The room is shrouded in darkness, with only a faint glow seeping in from underneath the door. "I didn't realize you had such a spacious house," you remark, taking in your surroundings.

"Tsk, I wish. But I don't feel like wasting time talking." She sits down on the edge of the bed, legs crossed. "Come here. I want you."

A moth to a flame, you stand before her. "You're awfully pushy today."

She giggles. "What can I say? Sometimes, I like having you to myself. Especially when you look like that." Every time Ryujin compliments your appearance, a tinge of self-consciousness washes over you, a person who typically pays little attention to clothing choices. Tonight, it's a simple black button-up shirt and jeans. She reaches out and runs her fingers over the fabric of your shirt and tugs at the buttons until they come undone one by one. "Ah, that's better. Let me get a good look at you."

You understand why men and women alike fall under her spell—the precision with which she controls each word, every action, and the way she effortlessly stirs desire within you. Helpless, you stand there as she takes in the sight of your bare chest, her fingers tracing the contours of your stomach. "You're so strong," she murmurs. "I love that about you."

"Yeah, well, I have to keep up with you." You lean forward, place your hands on her shoulders, then push her back until she's lying down. You hover over her. "Heard you've been wearing out some poor soul."

Ryujin smirks as hands slide up your arms. "Oh, you heard about that? I guess word gets around fast."

"Is that all you've been doing while I've been busy?" you ask, your hand caressing her thigh with deliberate slowness.

"I wouldn't say that. I've been keeping myself entertained." She bites her lip. "I know you have. You should have recorded Arin doing anal. That must've been so hot. You know how many times I made myself cum just remembering how you described it? Fuuck, fuck... I'm already getting wet again." 

You palm her breast through her dress, your grip not staying kind for long. You grin at the pretty noise she makes."Yeah, it was pretty amazing. But I think we both know what's even better."

"You're right. I want you inside me."

You slide your hand further up her leg, closer to her core. "Say it."

Whatever might have been in the air, alcohol or static or lust made into the scent of a room, a knock at the door clears it.

"It... it's me. Karina," comes a muffled, hesitant voice.

"Shit," Ryujin mutters. "Just a second." She pushes you back gently and rises to open the door.

And there she is, Karina, standing before you in the flesh, clad in a similarly tight and black outfit as Ryujin. Her dress, though not revealing as much leg, compensates with an open back that adds to her allure. The two girls embrace each other before stepping inside and closing the door. Then Ryujin goes in for a kiss; it's like watching a movie. They start slow, then it gets heated too soon as her body folds into Ryujin's. Maybe Ryujin was right—you could feel a pang of jealousy seeing your girlfriend with your ex. You're not sure you've ever kissed either woman with as much fervor, at least not Karina. When they part, it's as though you've just watched the most beautiful scene in a film, and you're still trying to process the emotions it evoked.

"Hi. Ryujin. Hi, hi," Karina says to Ryujin, her voice quiet. She looks at you. "Hi, Oppa."

"Hey," you reply. "What's up?"

"I saw the both of you heading in here, and I was... I had, had to know..." Already, she's out of breath, worked up.

Ryujin pulls Karina closer, locking the door behind them, and the three of you settle into a circle on the bed. "What did you need to know, Karina?" Ryujin asks, leaning in closer to the other girl.

"I-I'm sorry for following you here," Karina stammers, her gaze fixed on the floor as she folds her hands in her lap.

"Don't worry, you're not interrupting anything," Ryujin assures her with a smile, intertwining their fingers. "We were just talking."

Karina's eyes briefly flicker over your bare torso. "Are you sure?" she asks.

"Mhm. In fact, I think you arrived at the perfect time," Ryujin replies, planting a quick kiss on Karina's cheek. "I think we all need this tonight."

Karina nods slowly. "Okay... if you're sure." After a prolonged pause, she sighs and shakes her head. "I'm sorry if I've ruined things between the two of you. Ever since that date, I've been acting weird, and I'm sure you've noticed. But I don't want to jeopardize your relationship or anything like that."

Exchanging a meaningful glance with Ryujin, who seems amused by the situation, you turn to Karina and speak reassuringly: "It's fine. We understand. And, for what it's worth, you haven't ruined anything. In fact, I think you've helped us." You've reiterated this many times before to Karina, but insecurity lingers, understandably so.

Ryujin grins, sparkling eyes. "Yes, you've been quite the help." She wraps an arm around Karina's waist, pulls her closer, and places a tender kiss on her cheek. "You're amazing."

Karina blushes. "I'm glad."

"Come on," Ryujin says. "We can keep going from where we left off before you so rudely interrupted us."

"I don't know," Karina admits, shaking her head. Her cross necklace bounces against her chest as her gaze lingers on your exposed upper body. You catch the way she bites her lower lip, the way her pupils dilate with desire whenever her eyes meet yours.

"God, you're so cute," Ryujin says, deeply. "You know that?"

"You're not helping," Karina mumbles.

"Do you want me to kiss you again?" Ryujin asks as she cups Karina's face and turns it towards her.

Karina swallows hard. "This is wrong. You know this isn't right. We, what we've been doing, we were just, playing around. Pretending, like... we're not really..."

Ryujin silences her protest. Kisses her deeply. Tongue slips into the other girl's mouth. Karina melts into the kiss while Ryujin's hand slips under her skirt. Ryujin pulls away, panting. "Does that feel wrong?"

"No," Karina breathes out. "Yes. It feels so wrong, oh my god. T-two women, we, shouldn't... no... no, this is bad... this is really bad."

Ryujin puts her lips on Karina's neck. "If you want me to stop, just tell me."

You've never been so aroused in your life, seeing your girlfriend kiss your ex-girlfriend, watching them make out, their bodies pressed together. It's almost surreal, but at the same time, it feels natural. This is how the world is supposed to be, or at least how it's supposed to repay you, Ryujin, and especially Karina. For now, you don't mind being witness to this spectacle, as long as you get a taste of the action.

"Don't stop," Karina whispers, her voice husky. "Please, Ryujin."

Ryujin looks at you, and she knows how badly you want to join in; her eyes tell you that. But you also know she wants to take her time with Karina, to savor every moment. She turns her attention back to the girl beneath her, kisses her again, and explores her mouth with her tongue. Karina is vocal to Ryujin's every touch, starting from fingers running through dark hair, moving down to gentle massages of her neck and shoulder—then, a less gentle kneading of Karina's ample chest over her dress.

There's a plea in Karina's eyes. Please, don't let me moan so deeply, at this lecherous act, at this outright lust. Ryujin does not listen—how can she, above the music outside and the sweet noises coming from her lover? She gropes Karina's breasts with greater intensity and slides her knee between Karina's legs. That knee is a weapon of seduction and lust, and with its power, Ryujin grinds her leg against the crotch of Karina's panties.

Karina's eyes roll back. Ryujin moves down Karina's body, a serpent or a nymph or a succubus, which is enough to make Karina give in and wrap her legs around Ryujin's waist, her arms around Ryujin's neck.

"That's it," Ryujin coos, the temptation of one goddess to make another fall where she stands, assuming she can stand at all when under such a spell. "Give in to your desires."

Your eyes scan over Ryujin's body: smooth thighs wrapped in black stockings, the curve of her ass—which she emphasizes as she sits back and spreads her legs—and a;. "Just let go, baby. Give yourself to me."

You can see the conflict in Karina's eyes. She wants to do as Ryujin says, but she also doesn't want to betray her principles. (What principals, you might ask; this isn't Sunday school.) You wonder how far you can push her. You move closer to them, your hand reaching out and touching Karina's arm. Her eyes snap open with wide-eyed shock.

"It's okay," you say softly. "Just relax."

"But..." Karina trails off, looking away. "I... I can't."

"You can," Ryujin says, kissing her neck. "Because," Ryujin's voice lowers, "you're a good girl."

Karina bites her lip though Ryujin is the one with fangs.

"Yeah, that's it. You're such a good girl." Ryujin licks at her neck, and the girl shivers, but she leans in closer to her touch. "My good girl," Ryujin repeats as if saying it will make it so, and the world has a funny way of answering Ryujin. "Aren't you?"

The devil's flaw was that he was but one creature: you, by contrast, are an accomplice to Ryujin's game. "Yes, you are." You lean down and kiss Karina's cheek, so she shivers at the contact. You press your lips against her ear. "You're a good girl."

Ryujin matches your every peck with one of her own. The twin pair makes her mind melt along with her body, and soon, you've worked her into a fever pitch.

"Fuck," Karina whispers, to make sure the profanity doesn't reach whoever might punish her. She's too loud, too late for that, and you're not complaining. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

You look at Ryujin, who has an approving smile on her lips, which nip at Karina's skin. Between long kisses and short breaths, Ryujin asks, "What do you think Oppa and I were doing when you showed up?"

"I don't know," Karina responds. "I, I really don't know."

Rest your hands on Karina's hips and kiss her deeply. She gasps as you bite her bottom lip, sucking it between your teeth. When you let go, your voice commanding and low, you say, "Be honest. You know. I bet you pictured it as soon as we walked past you. I bet you picture it every time you see me and Ryujin together."

"I..."

"Karina, I know you touch yourself. All the time," Ryujin says, her hand caressing Karina's thigh. "It's obvious. Even a few days ago, you excused yourself to go to the bathroom, and you came back looking all flustered and embarrassed."

Karina's face flushes red, her eyes darting away. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh come on," Ryujin says. "Don't try to hide it. You were thinking about me and Oppa fucking. You wanted to watch. To join us." She kisses Karina again, her hands gripping the girl's hips, pulling her closer. "You want it so bad, don't you? And so you followed us here. You're such a naughty girl."

She denies it for a third time. A rooster crows. "I... I'm sorry," Karina says, her voice barely above a whisper.

"It's okay. I don't mind. I like it." Ryujin smiles, her eyes locked with Karina's. "But you know what I like even more? What I want most? It's for you to finally be honest with yourself. I know you're still holding back. I know you want to give in. Don't you?"

Karina looks between you and Ryujin, her eyes full of uncertainty and desire.

You step in, addressing Ryujin. "Baby. She clearly has a lot on her mind. I have an idea. How about while she thinks about her decision, you and I do what we were planning for a while."

"Mmm," Ryujin smiles at you, steps closer to your embrace. "I like the sound of that, Oppa."

Holding Karina's shoulders, you say, "If you want to go, that's fine. If you want to just watch, that's fine, too. Or, if you want to try something, Ryujin and I can help you, right baby?"

Ryujin nods, and Karina nods too, with all the certainty a mumbling mouse would possess.

"S-so, what do, what do I do?" Karina asks.

Ryujin gestures at her. "Sit on the bed. There, good, thank you." Then, Ryujin wraps her legs around you, her arms embracing your neck and kissing you hard. "You better give Karina a show."

"What did you have in mind?" you ask.

"The usual," Ryujin says, keeping her face close.

The usual involves you and Ryujin having a lot fewer clothes by now; however, after you're disrobed to your bare essentials, you stop Ryujin from doing the same—you like the way that the dress clings to her figure, the fabric hiking up past her thighs, so instead, you only tug away her panties from under the dress.

"This is all about Karina," you say to Ryujin, making sure you're loud enough for your ex to hear. You put Ryujin on the bed and kiss her neck, your hands sliding over her body, moving up her dress. "I'm gonna fuck you while I look at her, pretend like it's her."

"Oh my god, that's so fucking hot," Ryujin says, her voice strained.

You grab Ryujin's jaw and turn her head, so she looks at Karina. You speak in a low whisper in her ear, "I'm gonna make you scream for her."

"Yes, yes, yes..."

The stage is set. Now, it's time to begin the performance. For the first act, much-chided missionary—as much as Ryujin and you love exploring positions, there are times when you just want to be inside each other. This is exactly one of those times, especially in service of poor and sweet Karina, who you're unsure if she's ever seen this much sex in her life. And the promise is that you're fucking Ryujin as you would—will—Karina, so let the virginal girl see how it's done. Ryujin lies on the bed, her dress pushed up to her hips. Inspired by Karina's cleavage, you take the neckline of Ryujin's dress and push it down, revealing her breasts. They're a tad smaller than Karina's, but still nice. Her nipples are hard and flushed pink, a perfect match to the blush on her face.

You kneel between her legs, stroking your cock.

"Is this how you want me?" she asks, putting on a cute voice, while she reaches a hand down to spread her pussy open. "Am I a good girl, Oppa?"

"You're so sexy," you say, leaning forward to kiss her. "I love you."

"Mmm, I love you too," she says, moaning as your cock brushes against her pussy. More severely—"Now fuck me. Fuck me like you want to fuck Karina."

You nod, lining yourself up with Ryujin's entrance, and as promised instead of looking into your sweet girlfriend's eyes, you look over at Karina. She's frozen in place, her mouth hanging open. You give her a smile before pushing inside Ryujin, your cock sliding easily into her wet hole. But as much as you savor the familiar feeling of Ryujin's tight pussy wrapped around your cock, you focus on Karina. Her eyes are wide, her cheeks are flushed, and her breathing is heavy. She looks so gorgeous. You start to thrust slowly into Ryujin, trying to imagine it's her instead.

Karina holds her hands in front of her mouth, watching as you continue to pump into Ryujin. The contrast between you and Ryujin's slutty moans and the innocent gaze of her former lover gives you a sexual cocktail you can never get enough of. Ryujin hooks her legs around your waist, forcing you deeper into her pussy. Your hands grip her hips tightly as you fuck her harder. Your eyes are locked on Karina's, your voice is husky and low.

"I wonder if you're just as tight. Or wet. Don't you want to know? Just come over here. Come feel. You'll see."

Karina swallows hard while her eyes dart between you and Ryujin. She licks her lips, and her fingers fidget nervously. The desire in her eyes, the need to give in to her urges, the hunger is like pain and sorrow and conflict and it might make you apologize if you were a better man but you're a worse man, and happier for being so. Her eyes dart from your face to Ryujin's, and you notice her dress shift the barest amount—was she touching herself?

"Come on," Ryujin says, panting. "Don't be shy."

Karina hesitates, then slowly gets up and approaches the bed. She sits next to you, her eyes fixed on your cock sliding in and out of Ryujin's pussy. You lean over and kiss her cheek, your breath hot against her skin. "You can touch it," you whisper.

She takes a deep breath and places her hand on your cock, gasping as she feels the heat radiating from your member; it's slick with Ryujin's juices. Karina runs her fingers over your shaft, exploring every inch of it. "So big," she murmurs, her voice barely audible.

You thrust harder into Ryujin to earn her nails digging into your back, an often-earned and always-treasured hurt. "Yes, yes, yes," she cries, contorts, and arches her back while her pussy tightens around your cock. "Fuck me harder. Show me how you'd fuck Karina."

Pace picks up. You have your hands on Ryujin's breasts, but as much as you love your girlfriend's body, all you can think about is Karina's more sizeable and weighty and all-around better tits. There is no need to consult Ryujin about this—it is the truth, self-evident and wholly transparent, and you know she would be glad to get a feel or taste of them for herself.

Not letting your imagination go to waste, you turn to Karina, kissing her neck softly, then move down to her chest. She gasps as you cup her breast with your free hand, kneading it firmly, enough that you can feel her nipple hardening against your palm through the fabric of her dress. "Mmm, you're so soft." Your voice is low and husky.

Ryujin's voice is high and whining: "Your cock feels so good." She reaches down to rub her clit. "And her tits... fuck, baby, I want to feel them too."

Despite her suggestion, Karina is locked in place, shuddering under your touch as you continue to squeeze her chest like putty in your hands. Her lips part slightly as she lets out a soft moan; the sight of you fucking Ryujin must be driving her insane, must be the first thing she pictured when she saw you and Ryujin together for the first time, must be replaying in her mind over and over again. You can tell by the way her pupils dilate whenever you thrust into Ryujin's pussy, how her breath quickens as you caress her breast, and how her hips buck involuntarily when you pinch her nipple.

"Can you hear how wet Ryujin is? She's so turned on by the thought of me fucking you. The way I'm treating her like a little toy." Every time your shaft hilts, the sound of squishing and cum dripping along with her, it's a noise that is both obscene and arousing, a noise that can only come from the worldly pleasures of the flesh. You're making a mess out of Ryujin, as always. "So are you, Karina?"

She nods, slower than the pot boiling over, slower than a clock ticking—certainly slower than the heat rising within her body.

Ryujin turns and faces Karina. "He's so big. He's filling me up... and he's gonna fill me up so good. This could be you, Karina. He could fuck you so good, fuck!"

"I... I can't," Karina whispers, her voice trembling. "I shouldn't... my first time... marriage."

"Forget marriage. You want to, don't you?" you ask, kissing her neck.

"I don't know," she says, shaking her head.

"It's okay," Ryujin says, her voice breathy and strained. "We won't tell anyone. Just let go."

You pull out of Ryujin, making her whine in protest. You look at Karina. "Do you want me to fuck you? Do you want to feel my cock inside you?" You take her wrist and place her hand on your dick, to let her feel how hard it is. "You can touch it again. See how much I want you."

Karina lets out a small whimper as she feels your cock throb in her hand. She strokes it with the sureness of a surgeon who's never seen a body, her eyes locked on your anatomy. The call for your name is barely audible, rings in your ears all the same.

"Do you want to see how good I make Ryujin feel? How she screams for me?"

Listen, the delicious desperation in Karina's voice. "I do." She says it like she's responding a different question she's made up in your head—here, you can do it too: do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband—and the excuses fall away from her like dead leaves from the branches in winter. She's thawed out, blissful and necessary to touch and so very warm.

You position yourself behind Karina, kissing her neck softly as you unzip her dress. You push it down her shoulders, revealing the pale skin of her back and her underwear, the matching black bra and panties.

Ryujin massages Karina's core through her panties, a satisfied smirk on her lips as she watches the other girl writhe in pleasure. "You're soaking wet."

"I'm not," Karina protests weakly.

Ryujin continues stroking Karina's pussy over her panties, drawing another moan from the girl beneath her. "Mhm. Sure."

"How about this, baby girl? We can take it slow. Take off your panties, and spread your legs, just a little bit, and I'll just rub the tip of my cock on your pussy. Then we can play with your thighs." You whisper into her ear, "If you want me to stop, just say the word. But I think you want it."

Karina shivers and breathes faster yet just nods silently. Lifts her hips and slides her panties off. Drops them dead to the floor. Spreads her legs.

You've waited so long. Not just tonight. Not just since she last broke up. Not just when you became friends or when you were still in love. It's been months and years of wanting; it's everything, and more. Of all the women who have come and gone from your life, Karina's presence remains undisturbed and ever-present—a ghost that haunts the halls of your heart with a sweet and melancholy song. Her skin is so soft under your fingers as you caress her thigh. You examine her with reverence and wonder, most of all her pussy, because of all the women you've seen (and you've seen a lot), Karina has the nicest pussy, a perfect and pink pussy, one that is begging to be filled by your cock.

"That's it," you murmur. Run your fingers through her wet folds and grab her ass with one hand. "Such a good girl."

You press the tip of your cock against her entrance. "Wait, w-wait," Karina stammers, her eyes wide with panic.

Ryujin strokes her hair and grabs your shaft, aligning it away from Karina's virginity. "Shh, it's okay. Just relax." She presses your cock against Karina's clit, rubbing it up and down, and Karina gasps, her body tensing. "Does that feel good?"

"Do you like it when I rub your pussy with my cock?" you ask.

"Mmm… yes," Karina says.

"Good." Ryujin keeps stroking your cock against Karina's sensitive nub, which draws another moan from the girl. Karina squirms and her face flushes a deep crimson. "Let him play with your tits."

"Oh my god," Karina gasps, her hands gripping the sheets tightly. You reach around and cup her breasts through her bra—you're closer to her nipples this way, can pinch them between your fingers easily—before you finally free them from their restraints. They're so much softer than Ryujin's—softer than anything you've ever felt. Your fingers knead the tender flesh of her chest, reveling in the way they fit perfectly in your palms, and the nubs are a stiff pink against her pale skin. "Oh god."

"I think she likes this," you say with a chuckle. "I'm going to make you feel so good." You push your cock between her thighs, rub it against her pussy, and savor the way she clamps her legs together. "Fuck, that's hot."

Karina whimpers, squirms underneath you, but you grip her hips to keep her still. As you slide from in and out of her thighs, Ryujin bends over, placing kisses on Karina's waist—then her mouth aims lower. Karina cries out as Ryujin begins to lick her pussy. You've never seen your girlfriend eat with this much gusto before, slurping and sucking at the other girl's juices like they're the tastiest dessert on earth. Without a doubt, Ryujin loves what she's doing.

"Oh god, oh fuck!" Karina does too.

You thrust through Karina's legs, and Ryujin sucks on your tip as it pokes out. Karina is falling apart at the seams, amidst the friction of your length, the ministration of Ryujin's mouth, and just from how guilty and great it all feels.

"Good, good girl," Ryujin says. "This is okay, right? You can still be a good girl."

"I... yes," Karina says breathily. "I'm, I'm a good girl."

You suck on Karina's neck, nibbling at her flesh as your cock grinds against her soaked slit, wet enough to make a mess of her thighs, of Ryujin's lips, of your dick. It could be so easy to just thrust your entire length inside her, until you're balls deep, and do your job. You can taste her nervousness. You can feel it in the way her body tenses, the way she grips the sheets with white knuckles.

"You want to cum so bad, don't you?"

Karina only replies to Ryujin with a whimper. Ryujin smiles as she runs her tongue along Karina's pussy again, then when she suctions hard on her clit, Karina cries out. "Since you're such a good girl..." Ryujin says. "You shouldn't cum. A good girl shouldn't cum... unless Oppa's cock is inside you."

Spreading Karina's legs, Ryujin takes control of your cock to suck and taste Karina's body fluids off of it. Karina can only watch with wide eyes as Ryujin cleans your shaft. She's in even more disbelief when Ryujin pushes her aside to give you a more earnest blowjob, stroking your dick hard with her free hand while she peppers your length with sloppy kisses, especially along the ridge. You can't hold back a barrage of expletives.

Lying next to you in awe, Karina has eyes like a deer in the headlights.

"Do you want something, Karina?" Ryujin asks.

"I want... want to cum."

"Tsk, tsk, didn't I already tell you? Good girls don't get to cum unless it's on Oppa's dick."

Karina's eyes dart between you and Ryujin. She swallows hard, then nods slowly. "Okay."

"Okay?" you ask, stunned at the sudden acquiescence.

"I, I can't take it anymore. I need to cum. Please, Oppa. Fuck me. I want to cum. I need it so bad. I'll do anything."

"Such a good girl," Ryujin says, her voice husky. She positions herself behind Karina, wrapping her arms around the girl's body and cupping her breasts. Karina is on her back, just as Ryujin had been before, but now she receives Ryujin's continual praise. "You're so beautiful. You're such a good girl. You deserve this."

You kneel before Karina and take in the sight of her lying there, looking up at you with wide eyes full of uncertainty. That was the same uncertainty as the first time you asked her out, years ago. The uncertainty when you tried the first time to get into her pants—she's never let you go very far past kissing. The same uncertainty when the two of you had to break up. That uncertainty when she learned you and Ryujin were dating. And now, as Ryujin deepens the kiss, your gaze locks with Karina's, and she's just as nervous and aroused as she's ever been. You push Karina's knees apart and run your fingers through her wet folds.

Karina watches as you line yourself up with her entrance, her chest heaving as she holds her breath in anticipation.

"Are you ready?" you ask, your voice low and husky. Your hand travels from her hip to her smooth, flat stomach. Then, you grab Ryujin's hand as it rests on Karina's soft and heavy chest, now exposed to the air and free to be touched, squeezed, and played with by all of you. You can't believe you're going to be doing this—your ex and your current girlfriend, all while you watch in awe. This is the life of the party, not the loud music, nor the rowdy crowds, nor the alcohol. This is real.

Karina looks at your cock, unable to believe the size of it, or unable to look you in the eye—Ryujin takes hold of your shaft and rubs it against Karina's pussy, and at the same time, grabs Karina's chin to force her to look into your eyes. "Answer him," she says.

"I'm ready," Karina murmurs.

"What? We couldn't hear you, babe," you say with a smirk. You press the tip of your cock against her entrance and push it inside an inch, making her gasp as you stretch her pussy.

"Oh my god" sounds perfect out of Karina's mouth, a sobbed, whiny, desperate moan of a blasphemer who needs to be redeemed in your arms, so different from the deep and throaty moans of Ryujin. It's so cute, just like Ryujin said. A cute virgin girl who's so caught up in this moment, in how your length fills her up like the most worthwhile sin. And as you disappear within Karina's folds, inch by inch, she stares up at you with a mixture of pain and pleasure, her body shaking with every new sensation.

"Say it," Ryujin says firmly.

Karina swallows hard and looks into your eyes. Her voice is barely above a whisper, "Please fuck me, Oppa."

That's enough for you, enough for Ryujin to rub her clit and pinch her nipple and suck on her neck; so the fact that you're a handful of strokes in and she's already cumming isn't unexpected, but her reaction is. She thrashes around under you as wave after wave of ecstasy hits her. It's all you can do to hold her steady, gripping her hips and burying yourself balls deep inside her. Such a powerful climax must've been made even more so by how you continue to pound into her. She's overwhelmed, overloaded—over the edge—with pleasure.

"Oh god, oh god," she chants, her body trembling. "Oh my god."

It's almost a pity Karina cums so easily, instead of having her work for it, like a good girl; but it's only the first round of the night, and she has all the time to learn how to earn an orgasm.

"Woah," Ryujin says, expression impressed as she watches Karina squirm. "She came fast."

Karina opens her eyes to meet your gaze. "I... I'm sorry."

"You're sorry? No, it's okay," Ryujin reassures her.

Karina nods slowly, tears welling up in her eyes.

You take advantage of how you're still buried within Karina's depths to reach down and kiss away one of her tears. Something inside you makes you think that isn't the reason why she's apologizing, but it's close enough for now. It doesn't matter. You're going to fuck the guilt out of Karina until she takes the lord's name only in vein as it molds her pussy. "You can worry about apologizing after you show us how long you can keep up with us," you say, smirking as you pull out of her slowly, until the head of your cock is the only part of your shaft that still fills her entrance.

Ryujin runs her hand through Karina's hair, wiping away her tears and looking into her eyes. "You're so sexy." Her voice is a seductive whisper. "You know that?" She reaches down and caresses Karina's cheek before pressing her lips against hers, kissing her deeply. "Do you know how long I've wanted this?"

Karina breaks eye contact, unable to hold Ryujin's intense stare. "I... I had no idea," she replies in a whisper.

You thrust into Karina again, burying your length inside her and drawing a cry of pleasure from the girl beneath you. You repeat this slow movement again and again and again—for every thrust, Ryujin kisses Karina on the lips, cheeks, neck, ear—while whispering praises into her ears, while making her feel like an angel sent from heaven while keeping her mind on her and you as you take her virginity. You can see how badly she wants to hold onto the last shreds of whatever holding her back, to resist Ryujin's advances, but the more you and Ryujin work in tandem to force these moans out of her throat, the less she holds onto.

Oh, you have plenty to hold onto. You could spend the rest of your life pontificating about Karina's tits, and it feels like the rest of your life because if you die right on the hills that you're sinking fingers into, massaging—even smacking to leave your mark and watch how they recoil—then you'd die the greatest man to have ever lived. And what else is there to be?

Where else is there to be but where you are now, to be in Karina's pussy, clenching and unclenching around your dick like your cock is a part of her body? (Might as well be.)

If this were a place, you can imagine the city.

By the trumpet cry, the walls have fallen—shit, if you had any shame, it'd be gone by the time Ryujin's mouth got to work; Karina is no greater than you as a mess of moans and sobs, murmurs, and curses as she lies there on her back with a smile on her face and a glint in her eyes while Ryujin moves between the two of you to capture either clit or cock in her mouth, exchanging between the two. Whenever you're focused on pistoning inside Karina's pussy, she's lapping away at whatever is exposed to the air. Whenever you pull out for a break or to change positions, Ryujin takes a few moments to tongue Karina's slit or to taste her juices off your cock. So how could there be resistance; how could there be any hesitation in Karina's body as she lies back, letting you take complete control of her body while Ryujin does as she pleases, a perfect storm of two dominant lovers ravaging this sweet, submissive flower who had been too long neglected.

Now, over embarrassment or guilt—Karina is a slut at heart. No, a bitch. A bitch who can't stop crying and moaning out your name because the two of you are putting in work to make her feel so fucking good. And she takes it, and she takes it, and she takes it. Would she have ever acted like this with anyone else? You don't think, even alone, you could ever turn Karina into such a sloppy, slutty mess. You can only guess that, paired with Ryujin, this is who she truly is.

This is why you and your co-conspirator are so compatible in this regard. You don't need to explain to Ryujin that you want to change positions, or that you're doing so because you need some reprieve; your eyes are enough for her to understand. She's already moving to help as you get Karina in an appropriate position, on all fours so that you can fuck her doggystyle from behind. Of course, it also happens that this lets Ryujin slide underneath Karina and eat her pussy out while your cock slides in and out of her entrance.

There is a hunger pang in Karina's gaze as she looks back. The poor woman drools, saliva dripping onto Ryujin's stomach. It's like she doesn't even notice because the way your cock slides into her so easily is too good, and she has to moan every time your balls slap against her thighs. The best thing about the sight of Karina like this—hair stuck to her face, makeup smeared across her cheeks, body covered in sweat—is the sheer bliss written across her features as she takes whatever pleasure the two of you offer.

Then you look down and see Ryujin's expression. It's not one of lust or desire or satisfaction, but one of amusement. She looks positively amused that you're giving everything to this girl, fucking her like you mean it, and she continues to be amused when Karina lowers her head into the bed, between Ryujin's thighs—Karina wants so badly to taste her girlfriend's pussy, but she doesn't know how, with no idea what to do or how to ask, and again, Ryujin just knows all this by the dumbfounded happy look on your face. To be fair, you're mainly in this unbridled glee at the sight of Karina face-down ass-up, and of Ryujin's face between Karina's legs—but it is true that you've got some sort of telepathy going on, because without a word you both reach a consensus in your minds.

"Don't you want to eat her pussy out?" you ask, tugging gently on Karina's hair so that she raises her head back up. A reprieve from getting fucked like crazy, while you lay your shaft flat on Ryujin's face. "I can smell how much she's been needing it."

"Your dick, dick, it's so... ah, hngh, put it back in, put it back in.!"

"Don't try to think about what Oppa's doing," Ryujin coos. "I'm right here." She wraps her arms around Karina's hips and pulls her closer, bringing her pussy closer to the other girl's lips, and you pull back to give them room. "Right here."

You're fine to sit back and enjoy the show while you watch Karina sixty-nine atop your girlfriend. Karina, still unsure what she's doing, stares down at Ryujin for a few long seconds before finally leaning in to give her an experimental lick. Then she closes her eyes and loses herself to the moment as she tastes Ryujin's essence for the first time.

"Good girl," Ryujin sighs as Karina's tongue enters her pussy. "Oppa is so jealous right now, he loves eating pussy. But your tight virgin hole was too good for me to pass up. If you don't know what to do, just follow what I'm doing."

The sight of Ryujin with her lips pressed against Karina's mound while Karina's head bobs up and down between Ryujin's legs makes you incredibly hard, but since you were already as hard as a diamond from fucking Karina so much, you're not sure what lab is going to need your dick, but there must be one doing incredibly important science that will save humanity that could use you for a research study. Karina has never done this before, because you hear her complain about her jaw and how it hurts, but she is so fucking cute.

You can hear her moans as Ryujin's mouth works its magic on Karina's folds, and the way Ryujin rolls her hips against Karina's face says plenty about how she's feeling too. You can understand: even the most amateur mouth is enough when you're getting worked so enthusiastically over. It's just a fact of life.

Maybe you do know guilt, even if you don't feel it, understand it as one might a distant cousin or a person you elected, but never met personally; it doesn't stop you from interjecting into the action with your cock sliding into the space between them: Karina's tender pussy lips and Ryujin's greedy mouth becomes the two cushion that you are sandwiched in-between. The sensation of being between them, the juices that drip onto your length, the saliva that moistens it, the moans that surround it, it is like nothing you've felt before. You're no stranger to having your shaft between two pairs of lips; whenever Ryujin invites one of her many friends to a threesome, there will usually be some oral exchange or another between whoever is getting railed by you and your girlfriend, but this is so different. This is so much more intimate. You look down and see Karina looking back and up at you.

Karina's eyes widen as you thrust your cock between her folds. "Ah... ahh, what?" She turns her head and stares at you with wild eyes, her expression full of surprise and confusion. "What... what are you doing?" She's asking, but she's also grinding back against you, making it clear that she enjoys the feeling of your length sliding along her folds.

"Mmm," Ryujin murmurs against Karina's mound. Her lips press against your cock and she smiles before letting out a soft moan, sucking the tip of your shaft. "This is so hot."

Karina gasps as Ryujin sucks on your cock, taking it into her mouth and licking your length with her tongue. She keeps grinding back against you—too late for her, your dick is down your girlfriend's throat—and thus in her depravity, Karina rubs her pussy against Ryujin's neck where it bulges with every push forward. Your girlfriend is throating you while she gets her pussy eaten out by a woman who should be innocent of such acts of debauchery—yet, one night is all it took for Karina to realize how wrong she's been. There's no use praying away the gay (praying bye to the bi, by the by), not when there's sin in its place. But in truth, this is not one night but the culmination of so much pent-up tension and need. So much waiting around. So much taking care of and consoling, and it's not that you were doing these on purpose, but if you had one unspoken truth between you and Ryujin—

It's that she and any man or any woman, other than you and Ryujin, had no chance of working out by your hands, by hers—but here, tonight, all of those months of patience have paid off for you and your lover. It doesn't matter if Karina didn't want to do this, didn't expect to do this; this was always meant to be her fate like missionaries planting the seeds of their religion into the soil of native lands.

You're anxious you might plant your seed in a place already well-tilled by yourself: Ryujin's stomach. It is not long before both of them start cumming like crazy, and all you can do is keep pounding your cock against your girlfriend's throat—as much as you told yourself you would hold back—while Karina squeals against her pussy, your shaft getting coated in saliva and pussy juice as the two of them orgasm together. You suppose that Karina's oral skills were only sufficient in making Ryujin cum because of the way your cock deprived your girlfriend of air—the orgasms whenever you choke Ryujin are always so intense; you're certain you'd find the same results if Karina's mouth wasn't being put to other uses.

Ryujin finally pulls away, gasping for air as you release her hair. Your cock slides out of her mouth and you slap it across her face a few times before turning your attention back to Karina. She looks back at you with a dazed expression, her body trembling from her climax. You grab her hips and thrust your cock into her tight pussy, making her cry out as you fill her to her wit's end.

"I'm sorry," she says, looking back at you with tears streaming down her cheeks. "I'm sorry, I couldn't hold it back anymore."

Ryujin laughs as she kisses Karina passionately and tastes herself on the other girl's lips. "Don't apologize, baby girl," she says between kisses. "It's okay." She puts her hand on Karina's chest and massages her tits gently as she continues to kiss her. Ryujin turns to look at you, her hand on Karina's cheek.

This is that lie-down and get-ready-to-be-ridden position, and your blood has been boiling all night, ready to be unleashed. Karina and Ryujin both have the kind of ass that makes you want to spank it red until they cry and beg you to stop, but tonight's not about that. Tonight, as Ryujin slides onto your lap, taking your cock inside her with ease, you know there's no stopping either of them.

Normally, you would be saddened by the fact you can't see your girlfriend's face, but it's a fair trade-off, if only for the smacking sounds of Karina and Ryujin's kisses. And then, there's the way that Karina leaves a trail of girl-cum along your abs, as she first takes whatever friction she can find between your abdomen and her cunt, grinding along your stomach; after that, however, she's set on making your face her personal seat, which is fine by you. This is the throne of a god, not one to sit on and rule and dictate and limit, but one to be as, to transform into, to understand and connect with the people who pray for your attention—and Karina wants nothing more than that connection right now.

"I'm sorry I didn't do better," she says between kisses, holding your face in her hands. "I'm sorry I came so fast. I'm sorry we didn't do this sooner. I'm sorry with being with..." She chokes back a sob before continuing. "I'm sorry."

You've never needed an apology, and less so right now: your girlfriend is currently riding your cock like it's going out of style, and Karina manages to say all that without looking at your face—how can she? You can't even laugh at the irony, your every breath dedicated to what oxygen you can get before diving back into the wet heat of her pussy.

"Do you want to be a good girl?" Ryujin asks breathlessly as she bounces up and down on your shaft, her ass slapping against your thighs.

"I want to be a good girl," Karina murmurs as she grinds her pussy against your mouth.

Ryujin grabs Karina's ass and squeezes it tightly. "Stop saying you're sorry," she says between gasps.

Karina looks down at you and bites her lip. "I... I don't know how."

Ryujin pauses her ride, leaning forward and running her hands along Karina's body. "Well, you can beg to ride this beautiful, fffugh, dick..." Her hands move down to your stomach, and she starts grinding back and forth against your cock. "I love it." She turns and smiles at Karina, "He loves it when a girl rides him, and he loves it when I ride him the most. You know how many girls get to ride Oppa? But I'm the best at it."

You understand this angle. If there's one sin Karina might admit to, it's jealousy. She was always a bit competitive with you—nothing too malicious, just a need to be the best; and you're fine to indulge her. You grab Karina's ass and slap it gently, then squeeze her cheeks and spread them apart. "She's right, you know," you say, your voice low and husky.

Ryujin chuckles, shaking her head. "Of course I am," she says with a smirk, turning to look back at you.

You play with Karina's ass for a few moments before grabbing her hips and pulling her closer, bringing your face back to her mound. You press your lips against her pussy and kiss her tenderly. Your tongue slips between her folds and you lick her slowly. She tastes so sweet.

"Oh god..." Karina gasps, gripping your hair tightly as you lick her pussy. "I have to ride it. It looks, so, so good."

"You have to?" Ryujin asks in a mocking tone. "Oh, so now you're getting bold?"

"I want it," Karina whines. "Please?"

"You'll stop apologizing?" Ryujin asks as she moves off your lap, your cock still slick with her juices.

Karina nods, unable to look away from your length. She crawls up to your lap and elects to ride you reverse cowgirl, but only after Ryujin guides her in with a hand on the small of Karina's back. You don't mind either way—you're glad for this angle, for the underrated sight of Karina's back or her ass. You could trace the bumps of her spine or the dips in her waist. Though the position is naturally no novelty, this woman and all her impossibly perfect curves are, even if only for this night. Her ass is perfect; she has a perfect figure; and you love every inch of her skin, from her smooth shoulders to her soft thighs to her slender legs. Ryujin was right—you do love watching girls ride your cock, especially when they're new to it, when they haven't learned this choreography yet.

Karina has no trouble getting into the rhythm as she works you over like she was born to ride dick. Ryujin is there to support Karina through the process, running her hands along the other girl's body and kissing her passionately as she bounces up and down on your cock. Karina turns to look at you, brows creased, mouth wide open, lips wet with saliva. She can't stop moaning as your cock stretches her tight pussy. It's so adorable the way she tries to be quiet and ends up squealing instead. Her eyes roll back as Ryujin bites her neck and grinds against her body.

"Goddamn, girl," Ryujin whispers breathlessly. "You're so fucking sexy. Maybe you deserve his cum after all."

"Hngh, thank you," Karina says.

Ryujin laughs and grabs Karina's hair to move it out of the way before leaning in to suck on her neck. You can imagine what a mess it's making on her face, especially as sweat drips down her temples. The thing about Karina is that she might be a sloppy mess, but she's still just as pretty as ever, even if that prettiness is marred by the sweat that mats her hair, and the way she looks completely blissed out—even more so than earlier—with her eyes rolled back and her lips parted.

You thrust up into Karina's pussy, making her cry out. Your hands move to her hips and you lift her body up and down along your shaft. She looks at you with tears streaming down her cheeks and smiles.

"Yeah? Thank me?" Ryujin asks. You feel her weigh down against your thigh as she straddles you from the side, sits atop it, grinds back and forth while she reaches behind Karina to fondle your balls.

"Please," Karina begs in a soft voice, looking at you with wide eyes. "Please give me your cum."

You've had your climax postponed for a while, with the break from fucking Karina and the time Ryujin has taken to warm you back up. You're not sure how you'll be able to hold out any longer. Then Ryujin gives a glance. "Cum," she mouths.

That's all you need really. Karina twerks on your cock, forgetting everything she's learned, repeating profanity. All you need. An asscheek to spank and spank, or a breast to squeeze and squeeze until you can see the red handprint on her body, to feel that weight in your palm. A loving and supporting girlfriend to help you out with some verbal encouragement. All you need, and if you asked for anything more from up above, they'd answer like you just knocked the gates of heaven at 3:21 AM, and there's good Saint Peter asking:

"Well, now what? Oh, you want more?"

✦✧✦✧✦✧

AFF, AO3

Another sane Levi fic as always.

[buckets-and-trees]

What would happen if It Fit Too Right!Steve showed up for a filthy booty call only to find you a pathetic sick mess burrowed in bed and near delirious with a fever? 🥺

Wifey, you dropped this in my box last June, and I have known EXACTLY what would happen since then, and I've been just waiting to share (since I decided to post the pieces somewhat corresponding to the time of year they would happen).

I Felt More When We Played Pretend

Characters/Pairings: soft!dark and rough Nomad!Steve Rogers x Female!Reader Word Count: 3k Summary: April 30, 2018. See above.

Content/Warnings: illness, breaking and entering

Author Note: It was a year ago this week that I wrote the very first drabble for this duo! And then they evolved into a full series. Can you believe it? I feel like they're such a deep part of my writer heart and a constant fixation of my muse.

Previous Part | Series

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

You jerked awake with a start, feet tangled in the throw blanket you'd cocooned yourself in earlier. Your feet are burning up, sweaty and uncomfortable. With a groan, you kicked the blanket off, shivering slightly as the cool air hit your overheated skin. You groaned as the motion triggered a coughing fit that scraped at your already raw throat.

The television was still playing in the background, Paul Hollywood critiquing someone's focaccia with that stern look of his. Bread week. It had definitely been cake week cake week when you were last awake and somewhat coherent. But you could tell it was at least still afternoon light coming in through your windows. 

You reached for the half-empty mug of tea on the coffee table. It was stone cold, but you drank it anyway, grimacing slightly. This cold had knocked you flat for nearly a week, leaving you in a perpetual state of exhaustion and congestion, still nowhere near feeling human. 

You ran a hand through your greasy hair, wincing at how disgusting it felt. But not feeling human, a shower hadn’t been something you’d pursued in days, wandering from your bed to the couch and then the bed again as you simply rotated where you took your exhausted shifts of sleeping, only downing cold medicine and a myriad of typically-useful home remedies. 

You reached for the tissue box on the coffee table, pulling out the last one and blowing your nose with a sound that would make anyone cringe. The pile of used tissues beside you was embarrassingly large. You should really clean up, but the thought of moving hovered on the edge of possible but also too exhausting. You sighed and willed yourself to actually look at the pile to assess how much longer you could let it pile up. 

Only it was gone. 

One lone tissue only there - the one you’d just dropped. 

Your frowned. 

You tilted your head. 

Your brain was fuzzy and slow. 

Where did your disgusting pile go?

A clatter from somewhere else in your apartment made you tense. You were absolutely certain you'd been alone all day, all week even. Your muddled brain tried to make sense of this. Who else would be here? You have no roommates. Had you called someone? Had your mom learned you were sick, made a roadtrip to take care of you, and somehow gotten a key to your place? 

You heard more noises from the kitchen, and your heart started hammering in your chest because another foolish thought crossed your cold-addled thoughts…

And then that thought appeared before your eyes.

“Hey invalid,” he greeted, and Steve came into the living room, holding a tray. 

You burst into tears. 

The suddenness of your emotional reaction seemed to catch you both off guard. The sob that escapes you is so sudden it triggers another coughing fit. You cover your mouth with your elbow, shoulders shaking as you try to catch your breath through the tears and coughing.

"Whoa, hey," Steve soothed, quickly setting the tray down on the coffee table. The ceramic mugs clinking against the wood as he sunk onto the couch beside you, one large hand coming to rest on your back. "Easy, breathe."

You couldn’t answer, your tears mixing with your already congested sinuses until you were a snotty, hiccuping mess. 

“I didn’t mean to startle you,” he apologized. 

You shook your head, wiping at your tears with the back of your hand. "It's not that," you managed.

It was mortifying. You were sick, disgusting, and now a blubbering mess in front of this man who kept appearing in your life like some beautiful ghost. You haven't seen him in weeks, and he shows up now? When you're at your absolute worst? It wasn't fair.

"I'm sorry," you said, sniffling. "I'm just—I'm disgusting right now." 

Steve's hand continued to rub soothing circles on your back. His touch was gentle, so at odds with how he usually handled you. 

"You're sick," he corrected, his voice soft. "Not disgusting." 

You looked up at him through watery eyes. He was as perfect as ever—that irresistible beard, hair neatly combed, wearing a simple gray henley that stretched across his broad chest. Meanwhile, you were in the same ratty t-shirt and sweatpants you'd been wearing for at least three days, hair unwashed, face puffy from crying and congestion.

"I made you some soup," Steve said, nodding toward the tray. Soup and tea. 

You hiccuped, trying to gather yourself. "I just... I didn't expect to see you. And I'm a mess and I feel horrible and..." You trailed off, gesturing vaguely at yourself. 

Steve's expression softened. "You think I care about that?"

You couldn't meet his eyes. "This isn’t what you came here for.” You reached for another tissue, because even though you had stopped sobbing you were still crying, so exhausted from being ill, so overwhelmed by him being here. “I can’t bear you seeing me like this. I haven’t showered in days. I can hardly… I’m so tired, and I just–”

“Hey, hey, listen to me,” he firmly interrupted you, voice soft but firm. He cupped your cheek in his hand, turning your face up to look at him. “I came here to spend time with you, and that’s what I’m doing."

Your breath hitched at his words. This wasn't the Steve who fucked you against walls and made you scream his name. This was something else entirely. You searched his face for any sign he was just being polite, but found none. Only genuine concern reflected in those impossibly blue eyes.

"You're really not here for..." you gestured vaguely, unable to even say the word 'sex' in your current state.

Steve shook his head, a small smile playing at his lips. "Not everything has to be about that."

He reached for the mug of tea on the tray, passing it to you. The warmth seeped into your palms, the steam carrying the scent of honey and lemon to your clogged nostrils. You took a tentative sip, the hot liquid soothing your raw throat.

"This is good," you murmured, taking another sip. The honey coated your throat, bringing blessed relief. 

Steve watched you with an expression you couldn't quite read. "I wasn't sure if you had food in the house. I brought groceries." 

You blinked, processing his words slowly through your congested haze. "You... brought groceries?" 

He nodded, reaching for the bowl of soup. "Chicken noodle. Nothing fancy, but it should help." 

Your fingers trembled slightly as you accepted the bowl, warmth seeping through the ceramic and into your palms. The steam rising from the broth carried the comforting aroma of chicken, herbs, and vegetables. Your stomach rumbled in response—when was the last time you'd eaten a proper meal? 

"Thank you," you whispered. The domesticity of it all was so jarring compared to your usual encounters, you truly didn’t know what to think.

Steve settled beside you on the couch, close enough that you could feel his warmth but not touching. The British baking show continued playing in the background as you cautiously spooned the soup into your mouth. The flavors burst on your tongue, a well-seasoned chicken broth, tender vegetables, soft noodles. It was exactly what your body needed.

"This is really good," you said between spoonfuls. "Did you make this?" 

Steve nodded. "It's my mom's recipe. Well, as close as I can remember it." 

The mention of his mother surprised you. Steve rarely spoke about his past, especially not the distant past before the war and the ice. You glanced at him, curious. 

"She used to make it whenever I got sick," he continued, his eyes distant with memory. "Which was pretty often, before the serum." 

You were struck by the moment, but continued eating the soup. 

"How long have you been sick?" he asked, genuine concern in his voice.

You took another spoonful of soup, not realizing how much you needed it after days of barely eating. "Almost a week," you admitted. "It hit me hard Wednesday night."

Steve frowned, his eyes scanning your face. "Have you seen a doctor?"

You shook your head. "It's just a cold. A really bad one."

"Hmm," he hummed, not sounding convinced. His hand came up to rest against your forehead, checking your temperature. The gesture was so tender, so caring, it made your chest ache with something that had nothing to do with your congestion.

"You're still warm," he noted. "After you’ve eaten, you should take a shower.”

“Cause I smell?”

He chuckled. “You do,” he admitted, “but I think it will help you feel a little better, too.”

The thought of a shower was both appealing and exhausting. You wanted nothing more than to feel clean again, but the mere idea of standing upright for that long seemed impossible. 

"I don't know if I can stand that long," you admitted, setting the now-empty soup bowl back on the tray. "I get dizzy." 

Steve's eyes softened. "I'll help you."

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, so matter-of-fact. In all your encounters with Steve, this level of care, of tenderness, was uncharted territory. You'd seen glimpses of it, fleeting moments after sex when he would clean you up or hold you close, but nothing like this.

You set your now-"Steve, you don't have to—"

"I want to," he interrupted gently. His eyes held yours, and there was something in them you hadn't seen before—a vulnerability, a tenderness that made your breath catch. "Let me take care of you." 

Those five words hung in the air between you. This was so far outside the parameters of whatever it was you had with Steve that you didn't know how to respond. Sex was one thing—intense, but the thought of him seeing you so vulnerable, so weak, had you feeling hesitant.

But this was Steve. The man who had seen every inch of your body, who had made you come undone in ways you never thought possible. Why was this so different? 

"Okay," you finally agreed, your voice small. 

Steve helped you up from the couch, his strong arm wrapping around your waist to steady you. The room spun slightly as you stood, and you leaned into him gratefully. 

"I've got you," he murmured, his voice close to your ear.

The walk to the bathroom was slow, your legs shaky beneath you. Steve matched his pace to yours, patient and solid beside you. When you reached the bathroom, he turned on the shower, adjusting the temperature with one hand while keeping the other on your waist.

Steam began to fill the small space as hot water cascaded from the showerhead. Then Steve turned to you, his hands coming to rest at the hem of your t-shirt.

"May I?" he asked quietly. 

You nodded, unable to speak past the lump in your throat. Steve gently lifted the shirt over your head, his movements clinical and careful. There was nothing sexual in his touch, only care. You felt oddly shy as he helped you undress completely, his eyes never lingering inappropriately. It was so different from every other time he'd removed your clothes.

"Almost ready," Steve said softly. He helped you remove your underwear with the same gentle efficiency, then guided you toward the shower. "Can you stand?"

You nodded, though you weren't entirely sure. "I think so."

"I'll be right here," he promised, helping you step under the warm spray.

The water felt heavenly against your skin, washing away days of fever sweat and lethargy. You closed your eyes, letting it cascade over your face and hair, breathing in the steam that helped clear your congested sinuses. 

For a moment, you felt almost human again. You reached for your shampoo bottle, but your arms felt like lead weights, and you swayed slightly.

"Easy there," Steve said, quickly stepping into the shower behind you, having discarded his own clothes. His strong hands steadied you, holding you upright as the water cascaded over both of you. The sudden feeling of his bare skin against yours was startlingly intimate in a way that had nothing to do with sex.

"I've got you," he murmured, reaching for your shampoo bottle. He poured a generous amount into his palm and began to work it through your hair, his fingers massaging your scalp with gentle pressure. You closed your eyes, leaning back against his solid chest as he washed your hair with careful, methodical movements. 

The feeling of his hands in your hair was hypnotic, soothing in a way you hadn't expected. This wasn't the Steve who pulled your hair during passionate encounters—this was someone else entirely, someone tender and nurturing. 

"Turn around," he said, gently turning you in his arms so you faced him. 

The warm water flowed down your back as Steve carefully tipped your head back, rinsing the shampoo from your hair. His hands were gentle as they worked through the strands, making sure every bit of soap was washed away. You kept your eyes closed, dizzy from the heat and the proximity of him, though not in the way you usually were around Steve. 

Once your hair was rinsed, he reached for your body wash, squeezing some onto a washcloth. With methodical care, he began washing your body, starting with your shoulders and working his way down your arms. His touch was clinical, respectful in a way that made your heart ache. 

"This okay?" he asked softly. 

You nodded, unable to find your voice. There was something so personal about this moment, something that transformed all the physical encounters you'd had into something more meaningful, more real. Steve continued washing you, his movements gentle but thorough. When he finished, he helped you rinse off, supporting your weight as the warm water cascaded over both of you.

"Better?" he asked, his voice low. 

"Much," you whispered. The combination of the hot water, the steam, and Steve's gentle care had eased some of your misery. Your head still felt stuffed with cotton, but the heavy weight of illness seemed slightly lighter. 

"I think I need to get out now," you murmured, your legs starting to feel like jelly beneath you.

"Okay," Steve agreed, turning off the water. He stepped out first, quickly wrapping a towel around his waist before reaching for your fluffy bath towel. He enveloped you in it as you stepped out, using another smaller towel to gently blot the water from your hair.

The bathroom was warm and steamy, but you still shivered slightly. Steve noticed immediately.

"Let's get you dressed," he said, his voice gentle but firm. He kept one arm around you for support as he guided you into your bedroom. The familiar space was welcoming, though you noticed immediately that the tangled sheets and scattered tissues that had been in here too were gone. The bed was neatly made with fresh sheets, a glass of water and your medication waiting on the nightstand.

"You cleaned my room," you murmured, touched by the gesture. 

Steve shrugged, the movement casual but his eyes watchful as he steadied you. "Thought it might help you feel better." 

He helped you to the edge of the bed, then moved to your dresser. "What do you want to wear?" 

"T-shirt, second drawer. Underwear in the top left," you instructed.

Steve returned with a soft t-shirt and a pair of comfortable cotton underwear.

"Arms up," he instructed softly, helping you into a clean t-shirt. His hands were gentle as he guided the soft fabric over your damp hair and down your body. Next came the underwear, Steve kneeling before you to help you step into them. The role reversal was striking—you were usually the one on your knees before him.

Once you were dressed, Steve guided under the covers. The fresh sheets felt heavenly against your skin as you sank into the mattress. Steve tucked the blankets around you with careful hands, then sat on the edge of the bed.

"Better?" he asked, his voice soft. 

You nodded, your eyelids already growing heavy. The shower had helped clear your head somewhat, but it had also drained what little energy you had. 

Steve reached for the glass of water on the nightstand. "You should take your medicine."

You obediently took the pills he offered, washing them down with water. As you handed the glass back, your fingers brushed his. "Thank you," you whispered, your voice thick.

Steve brushed a strand of damp hair from your forehead, his touch lingering against your skin. "You should rest."

"Will you..." you hesitated, suddenly unsure. This was uncharted territory for both of you. "Will you stay?"

Something flickered in Steve's eyes—surprise, maybe, or something deeper. "Of course, I'll stay," he promised softly, “for as long as you need me to.” 

You felt a wave of relief wash over you.

"Thank you," you murmured, your eyelids growing heavier by the second. The combination of warm soup, a hot shower, and clean sheets was quickly pulling you toward sleep. 

You expected Steve to leave the room, perhaps go watch television or sit in the chair in the corner. Instead, he stood and shed the towel from his waist, quickly pulling on his boxer briefs that you now noticed were sitting on the dresser. The bed dipped as he slid in beside you, his body radiating warmth as he settled against the pillows. 

Without thinking, you shifted closer to him, seeking his warmth. Steve's arm came around you, drawing you against his chest. You rested your head in the crook of his shoulder, your body fitting against his as naturally as breathing. 

"Sleep," he murmured, his lips brushing your temple so naturally. 

As you surrendered to unconsciousness, your last thought was that while you would recover from this awful spring cold, you didn’t think you would ever recover from this. 

next part: FOR KEEPS THIS TIME read more Exiled Nomad Series

For those keeping track of the chronological timeline, this is the end of April 2018. I'm going off this theoretical idea that Avengers Infinity War happened "sometime between April 19th and June 3rd, 2018."

...

just

you know

for reference...

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

I do not do tag lists, but FOLLOW @buckets-and-stories and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS to be updated any time I publish a new work!

[blue-jisungs]

fighting with them ♡

author's note. my very poor attempt on angst written in june 2023 LMAOOOOO enjoy!! (do not ask me why am i posting it now, i dont know either.)

making up after a fight - here !

┆彡 CHAN [ 찬 ]

chan couldn’t put a finger on it but there was something going on with you lately. from all of the people in the world he knew the best how life can get overwhelming sometimes. you were there for him during his hardships of being an idol… and a human being, in general.

and clearly, you were going through something too. but you didn’t say a word and even seemed to avoid him.

you arrived home late at night on one friday, a heavy sigh escaping your lips. chris is probably… working. so you you can easily sneak into your bedroom without him noticing you, right?

“y/n”

you turned around and saw him in the hallway, hair messed up and glass of water in his hand. his face lit up upon seeing you, however you could sense the weird tone of his voice.

“hi chris. i’ll go to sleep” you mumbled, taking off your shoes

“wait, can we talk? i know it’s late but i feel like nowadays we’re roommates, not a couple” he said. here it is. you let out another sigh

“i had a lot on my head today, can we not?” you grunted, leaving your bag on the floor.

“that’s the thing, y/n. there’s something going on and you just won’t tell me. and when we’re gonna talk when not now? you avoid me, let’s face it” chris continued, voicing out his worries. you knew.

“i’m sorry, okay? it’s just… i don’t want to talk right now and…” you pinched the bridge of your nose, earning a scoff from chan.

“you never want to talk, apparently. relationships are build on trust and communication. and i get the feeling you don’t trust me at all” his voice got a little louder but not to the range of shouting.

“listen, i–“ you started, genuine exhaustion feeling your body. you were afraid to snap and that’s the last thing you wanted to do. especially right now, especially at chris. but if it continues–

“i’m tired of your excuses, y/n! let me help you, talk to me, anything–“ chris pleaded and before you realised, it happened.

“can you shut the fuck up? i told you i’m tired! we’ll talk once you stop interrupting me for god’s sake!”

the realisation sank in as you watched chan’s features change with pain. his jaw tensed, eyes becoming cold.

“sure… i’m sorry. good night” he huffed, his steps leading him back to his studio.

your eyes watered, heart shattering into millions of pieces. you fucked up.

changing into your pyjamas you fell asleep on the couch, feeling like a burden in your own bed. your and chris’. and above all, you felt strange and empty, trying (and failing miserably) to fall asleep without him by your side.

┆彡 MINHO [ 민호 ]

you approached lino quietly, wrapping your arms around his waist from behind. he jolted a bit by your sudden appearance, the wooden spoon falling out of his hand.

“oh, sorry baby. how are you today?” you hummed when minho with a grumpy face grabbed the spoon.

“you’re so fucking clingy sometimes…” he grunted, causing your eyes to widen “get off me”

the coldness of his voice made you a bit scared, backing away. minho continued with his cooking task.

“like a literal baby, i swear. let me breathe for once, is this too much to ask for?” he snapped, not even looking at you.

you understood, of course you did. when you started dating minho he wasn’t too big on skinship but… he never spoke like that to you in general or about this.

“okay. i’m sorry” you mumbled, trying not to show how hurt you got by his words “i’ll be in the bedroom”

he didn’t even say anything. you held your tears and walked away, only letting them go once you were buried in your duvet.

┆彡 CHANGBIN [ 창빈 ]

you let out a deep sigh, massaging your temples. changbin was looking at you with straight face, the tense silence between you two constantly interrupted by your group chat exploding with notifications.

“y/n, for the millionth time. they don’t deserve you, they literally treat you like shit” he grunted, glancing at your phone and reading the last message “'y/nnie we’re sorry, the date just slipped my mind', are you kidding me? what kind of an excuse is that?”

the thing was that your friends stood you up, again. lately they do that all the time but you know that they’re busy, just like you.

“a normal one! do i have to remind you the times you forgot about our dates? or i did? we’re humans, we forget things. and they’re my friends, they wouldn’t stand me up! we already rescheduled for tomorrow” you hissed “stop talking shit about my friends!”

“i’m not!” changbin whined “it just pisses me off because they meet up without you! don’t tell me you don’t know that!”

“i don’t because they don’t do that! stop accusing them!” you yelled, surprised by yourself. changbin sighed, his tongue poking the side of his cheek

“fine. just don’t run crying to me when you get stood up again, probably tomorrow” he huffed, crossing his arms

“i won’t!” you grunted, grabbing your phone and walking away to your bedroom.

┆彡 HYUNJIN [ 현진 ]

your boyfriend came home, a loud slam of his bag hitting the floor lighting a red lamp in your head. there was no usual, cheerful “hi baby!” or “i’m home!” coming from him.

hyunjin stepped into the kitchen, ignoring you, and poured himself some water.

“hi hyune” you hummed, approaching him. he mumbled something incoherent back, eyes everywhere but on you. you sighed quietly, shaking your head “how was your day?”

“awful, i’m exhausted” he grunted, poking his cheek with his tongue

“i’m sorry to hear that… here’s some food, i grabbed it from work. let me just finish heating it up” you hummed, smiling softly “and later if you want we can watch a movie?”

“just… i need some time alone. i’m tired, y/n. i know you wouldn’t get it because i’m an idol, i dance and work for the whole day but i just need to rest, okay?” hyunjin grunted, making you halt.

“what do you mean i wouldn’t get it?” you frowned, turning your gaze at him

“you’re… well, you’re not an idol. can i just-?” he spat out, running out of patience.

“oh, so i can’t feel exhausted? i know that working as a cleaning lady is not as mighty as being an idol, but it’s tiring as well” you said slowly, trying not to lose your temper.

“yeah, sure” he scoffed.

your eyes widened, genuine hurt breaking your heart.

“i’ll eat it later, don’t mind heating it up” he grunted and before he waddled away to the bedroom, he heard your murmurs.

“it’s for me… and you don’t mind talking to a filthy cleaning lady later…”

┆彡 JISUNG [ 지성 ]

han was watching you for the past fifteen minutes, tongue poking the side of his cheek. you seemed to have fun while chatting with the other guy. way too much fun.

he just let out a sigh and took a sip of his drink. he hated it. he hated that he had to go to this party, that someone spilled a drink over him, that the food sucked and that you… you were ignoring him.

you let out a laugh and shook your head. the guy who you were talking to, beomgyu, patted your head with a grin.

suddenly you felt a hand on your arm, squeezing it. you turned around and saw jisung and his… tensed jaw.

“oh ji! i was wondering where you were! this is beomgyu, jeongin’s friend…” you smiled and beomgyu greeted your boyfriend with a happy smile

“we need to talk” han just grunted and walked away. you shrugged and beomgyu sent you a questioning look.

following jisung outside, where the weather wasn’t too pleasant, you rubbed your arms and enjoyed the silence.

“what’s up?” you asked, tilting your head.

“are you seriously asking me 'what’s up?'… y/n… you’ve been having the time of your life with that guy” he hissed, crossing his arms.

“beomgyu? what do you mean? we were just talking, that’s all” you scoffed, not fully understanding what he meant.

“please, y/n. you two were flirting! it’s unbelievable” he snarled, his voice raising dangerously.

“jisung, you know i only love you. i was just talking with him because he–“ you started

“cut the bullshit. it’s good to know you had fun at the party but i’m going home. have fun flirting with him” he bursted out, walking away

“jisung, what the fuck?!” you called but he didn’t stop “what do you want me to say? i… i seriously! you can ask him! i wasn’t saying anything–“

entering the room again filled his ears with music, jisung didn’t catch the way your voice broke down. legs leading him towards the exit, he noticed beomgyu watching him shocked.

┆彡 FELIX [ 필릭스 ]

you drummed your fingers on the table nervously, giving the waiter an apologetic look. he walked up to you, sighing.

“i’m sorry ma’am but if you’re not planning on ordering something i’ll have to ask you to leave…” he said. you nodded, grabbing your purse

“i understand” you said and paid for the two glasses of water you ordered earlier.

“i’m sorry” the waiter mumbled, causing blood to flow to your cheeks. you shook your head and left, dialling your boyfriend’s number for the seventh time this night.

“–yeah, i know, right?! what’s up, y/n?” felix answered, the voices in the background becoming quieter.

“where are you?” you asked bluntly, crossing your arms

“i’m at changbin’s, why?” he asked confused

“why? well maybe because i was waiting for you like an idiot for the past two hours? why didn’t you pick up your phone earlier?” you spat out, voice starting to shake

“what are you talking about?” felix grunted

“our date, felix! like the third one you missed because allegedly you were busy? are you doing this on purpose or what?” you huffed, sitting down on a nearby bench.

“i was busy, y/n! i admit, today i forgot but we made plans with guys earlier and i just…” he trailed off.

“you just forgot. again. i don’t have any more patience or strength for that, felix. don’t you see that? you’re prioritising work over me” your voice broke, nails digging into your knees “if it keeps happening–“

“y/n… don’t say that! you know i’m busy, i’m an idol! what did you expect?” felix scoffed.

“i expected my boyfriend to be present in my life, you know? i understand that you’re an idol, i respect that and i support it… i just wish you were there for me, felix. do you even know i got fired yesterday?” you asked and were met with silence “exactly. now… have fun at changbin’s, say hi to the boys. i’m not coming back tonight”

with that you hung up, chest thumping in your chest. well, you’re going to have a sleepover at your best friend’s… again.

┆彡 SEUNGMIN [ 승민 ]

you hummed happily, just getting off the phone with your mom. entering the kitchen you noticed seungmin with his glasses atop of his nose, reading something.

“hey, seungmo! do you have any plans on weekend?” you asked. he shook his head as a no “great! my parents are visiting, then”

he groaned, making you frown.

“what?” you asked, crossing your arms.

“again?” he finally looked up at you, fixing his glasses.

“what do you mean again? they visited us like, month ago!” you shook your head

“it’s just… tiring” he mumbled, playing with the hem of the paper he was reading

“tiring? they’re my parents, seungmin. and it’s hard for them too. they’re still getting used to living in korea, i know how that felt and besides, you should get used to it” you huffed

“okay, so? can’t you just go on your own? i wanted to practice, i could use some time alone” seungmin grunted. you bit your lip, looking down. did he just… did not like your parents? you couldn’t lie, it hurt you.

“fine. have fun then because i guess i’ll leave earlier, since you could use some time alone” you murmured

“are you angry at me?” he asked, some kind of mockery in his voice

“yeah, i am! do you not like them? why didn’t you tell me earlier?” the question made him scoff

“i just don’t feel like going, geez! just go, you’re being annoying today…” he grunted, reassuming his previous task.

you mumbled a soft oh and left your place right away, not bothering to pack. your parents have some clothes of yours at their place either way.

┆彡 JEONGIN [ 정인 ]

you watched jeongin text someone with a huge grin on his face, fingers quickly tapping against the screen of his phone. letting out a deep sigh, you reassumed watching the show.

“wait, why’d you start?” he asked suddenly, putting his phone away

“i asked you like, five times if i can start already” you grunted, not looking at him

“sorry, i was…” he hummed, hesitant “…texting someone”

“who was it?” you asked, not really caring about the weight of the question…

“no one important” he huffed. now, his answer made you confused. anxiety slowly creeping into your heart, you looked at him

“why’d you answer like that? i’m sure that person wouldn’t be too happy to hear that” you joked lightly. jeongin just shrugged, letting out an annoyed sigh. there was a sound of door opening somewhere in the dorm.

“can we just watch?” he asked coldly.

you fell quiet, mind racing with thoughts. if you think about it, you caught him texting and smiling like a teenage girl a couple of times this week. and he always quickly turned off his phone once you were near him. what was it?

“oh, hi you two!” you heard changbin’s voice. you turned around to wave at him and he waved back, then turning your eyes again at the screen “oi, jeongin-ah, did eunjeong text you back?”

your eyes widened upon hearing the name. eunjeong. jeongin’s ex.

you looked at him, his face immediately dropping. you sent a death glare to changbin that only now realised what he said. but that meant… he knew.

“you’re texting her? your ex?” you asked, crossing your arms. jeongin sighed, trying his best not to roll his eyes.

“and what if i am, geez! it’s not that serious, y/n” he grunted, looking at you.

“for me it is, jeongin. you know i have trust issues… and i don’t trust her, especially! besides, you told me you blocked her…?” you asked, heart racing abnormally fast.

“i lied, okay? because you’re so sensitive about everything, just like now! yes, i’m texting eunjeong and honestly, i don’t regret it! she’s fun, okay? we broke up on a good terms” he grunted. you stood up, walking away “where are you going?!”

“i need to think” you hissed, passing changbin by

“that’s exactly what i was talking about… god, such a crybaby over nothing” jeongin murmured, grabbing his phone.

before he could open up a chat with eunjeong, he heard a loud door slam.

masterlist <3

taglist. @primoppang ,, @l3visbby ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @slytherinshua ,, @kazmura ,, @nicholasluvbot ,, @ameliesaysshoo ,, @weird-bookworm ,, @dazzlingligth ,, @litepowee ,, @ocean-minho ,, @lessthanpast ,, @s-e-s-a-I-e-n-e ,, @fire-08 ,, @eternalgyu ,, @haecien

[wandascrush]

The Aftermath

Part 12 of the DIWK series

Pairings: Sharon Carter x f!reader, Phil Coulson x f!reader, Avenegrs x f!reader, Natasha Romanoff x f!reader

tag list: @ayrtonwilbury @esposadejoyhuerta @kissesfornat @caffeine-pup @seventeen-x @heliotropeheart @so-to-aqui-pelas-fic @womenarehotsstuff @nuianced-tck-enby

A/N: thank you for the continuous support <3 Summary: Sharon finally brings you some place safe- some place… familiar. The Avengers get the shock of their life.

You didn’t trust her at first. Even after the escape. Even after she dragged you through the forests of Eastern Europe, evading HYDRA pursuit for four days straight. Even after she stitched up the wound on your shoulder and fed you with her own goddamn hands because your body still wasn’t yours yet.

You didn’t trust anyone.

But Sharon didn’t flinch.

She took your coldness, your silence, your empty stares, and never once hesitated. She talked to you like you were still you. Like you weren’t just some broken piece of a past life.

Because she remembered—even when you didn’t.

And for the first time since HYDRA carved you open and filled your veins with their poison—

You wanted to remember who you were. Desperately.

You sat in the backseat of a SHIELD suv, arms crossed tightly over your chest, Sharon’s jacket draped around you. Silent. Unreadable. Your friend drives without pushing. Not one question. Not one word out of place.

Something funny happens as soon as you cross the Brooklyn bridge. The city goes dark- the car radio turns off and lights vanish all across the city. They come back a moment later.

Only Sharon notices.

Your tired eyes meet her blue ones in the rearview mirror.

“Do you remember anything?” she asks quietly.

You shake your head.

A long pause.

Then: “Do you trust me?”

A beat.

“With my life,” she replies.

Silence again.

But something softens in your face.

———————-

Sharon Carters Apt. - Bronxville, NY

The door creaks open. Sharon supports you gently, her arm a steady presence as you limp inside. You’re walking now, barely—but it’s enough.

The apartment smells like cedar and lemon. Lived in. Safe. Something tugs at your chest.

Your gaze sweeps across the space.

Bookshelves. A worn couch. A coffee mug left by the sink. Papers scattered on the floor.

“Is this…your place?” you ask quietly.

Sharon hesitates.

“It’s ours,” she almost says. She wants to remind you that your bedroom is just down the hall from hers.

Instead, softly, “Yeah. It’s mine.”

You touch the edge of a photo frame. You don’t see what it holds—two girls, 16, arms slung around each other, laughing against a skyline. You and Sharon. You- your memories.

You remember your childhood. SHIELD. The training. The cold discipline of survival. You remember your trauma.

But love? Connection? The happy memories?

Those were so hard to remember. So…fuzzy?

And everything with the Avengers, Natasha, Wanda- that’s what HYDRA rewired. Dipped in poison. Corrupted to its core.

——————————

Avengers Tower - NY, NY

The tower feels cavernous now. Hollow. A ghost of what it used to be.

Natasha sits in a corner chair by the window, nursing a half-empty glass of whiskey, her gaze distant. Wanda curls into the opposite side of the room, hugging her knees, staring at the muted flicker of the television like it might tell her something she doesn’t already know.

The TV hums low, late-night news providing static comfort. Nobody listens—until a headline cuts through the white noise:

“BLACKOUT INCIDENT ON BROOKLYN BRIDGE”

Wanda glances up, blinking slowly. The footage begins to roll—grainy, jerky. A black SUV merges onto the bridge. Nondescript. Harmless.

Until it isn’t.

A flicker through the tinted glass. A profile. A shape. A face. The camera zooms in clumsily, but it’s enough.

That shape.

That familiar tilt of a head.

The sharp jawline.

The haunted eyes, staring out at a world that had long since forgotten her.

“It can’t be,” Steve says from behind them, stepping into the room, drawn by the sudden energy. “She’s…we looked for months. She’s dead.”

But he doesn’t sound convinced. Not a fucking bit.

Wanda feels bile pool into her mouth and she knows she’s going to be sick all night.

Tony appears a second later, phone in hand, already trying to track traffic footage. “Cross-check every camera in a fifteen-mile radius,” he mutters. “If that’s her—”

“If?” Natasha snaps, spinning on him. Her voice is razor sharp. “That was her.”

———————-

A dim glow spills from her desk lamp. Papers scatter across the table—HYDRA files, maps, decrypted intel. A mission board, red string crisscrossing in patterns only Sharon understands.

She’s hunched over her laptop, eyes burning, hands trembling. Exhaustion clings to her skin like a second layer. The adrenaline of what she’s done has finally hit her like a punch to the stomach.

Across the room, you toss fitfully on the couch, a blanket half-slid to the floor, breath shallow. Your sleep is never peaceful.

The news murmurs in the background.

Another headline.

“UNMARKED VEHICLE LINKED TO BRIDGE BLACKOUT”

Sharon’s eyes snap to the screen.

She sees it before they say it.

That SUV. A discontinued model famously assigned to Agent Coulson. The shimmer of light on tinted glass. The faint silhouette of a familiar jawline. Her stomach lurches.

It’s you.

She doesn’t move at first. Just watches.

Still breathing. Still alive. Clearly.

But the rest of the world would see this too.

The Avengers.

SHIELD.

Ross.

They’d be coming. But they can’t come yet- not before you’re well enough to decide what happens next on your own.

Her hand fumbles for the burner phone.

You shift on the couch but don’t wake. She dials fast.

“They’re coming,” she whispers, almost to herself.

A voice answers immediately: “I’m already on my way, kid.”

[lvzrii4]

꩜ .ᐟ christmas’ warmth

— ✮⋆˙ riki x reader ✮⋆˙ fluff ✮⋆˙ 0.7k wc ✮⋆˙ grammar errors

when christmas doesn’t feel like christmas, but nishimura riki exists.

It was Christmas again. Time had flown by so fast that with just one blink, it was already the season where families gather to celebrate and enjoy each other's company.

Christmas was supposed to be fun, right? But this year, it didn't feel like Christmas at all. And that made you sad, especially since Christmas was your favorite time of the year.

You sighed as you stared at the dining table. You’d prepared all the food, thinking your family would be there to enjoy it with you. But plans had changed.

Your parents were called into the hospital for a sudden emergency, and your older siblings couldn’t make it home because of college. You honestly hated being the youngest sometimes.

The coldness outside matched the emptiness you were feeling. The winter chill wasn’t just in the air—it was in your heart.

"I guess I’ll just watch a movie and eat the food," you muttered to yourself, trying to sound upbeat. You didn’t want your Christmas to be gloomy, but it was hard to shake the feeling.

You had just settled onto the couch with your food when your phone rang. You glanced at the screen and saw Riki’s name. A smile immediately spread across your face as you answered.

“Hey, Ri! Merry Christmas!” you greeted, your voice brighter than you felt.

“Merry Christmas, baby,” Riki’s voice came through the phone, warm and familiar.

“So, how’s your Christmas going?” you asked, as you flopped back onto the couch with a small sigh.

“Doing fine. How about you?” Riki’s tone shifted slightly, sensing the difference in your voice.

You hesitated before replying. “Yeah, everything’s okay. It’s just… my family’s not here, so I’m spending Christmas Eve alone. But it’s fine, nothing to worry about,” you said, trying to brush it off with a laugh.

But Riki wasn’t fooled. “Everything’s really okay?” he asked, concern lacing his voice. He knew how much Christmas meant to you.

You smiled softly. “Yeah, really. It’s just a bit… lonely, I guess.”

There was a pause on the other end, and then you heard a soft shuffle, like footsteps in the snow.

“Actually…” Riki’s voice sounded closer now, “I’m in front of your house right now.”

Your heart skipped a beat, and your eyes widened. You immediately jumped up and rushed to the door, throwing it open. There he was, standing in front of you, snowflakes dusting his dark hair and shoulders.

“Hi,” Riki waved, his breath visible in the cold air.

You blinked in surprise, lowering the phone from your ear as you pulled him inside. “What are you doing here?”

“I figured your family might be busy, so I rushed over,” Riki explained, smiling as he shook the snow off his coat. His hands gently found their way to your waist, pulling you closer.

“But… what about your family? Your friends?” you asked, feeling a little guilty. You didn’t want him to skip his own celebrations just for you.

Riki chuckled softly, his breath warm against your skin. “There’s always tomorrow, you know? Besides, let me prioritize you tonight, alright? And don’t worry, they know I’m here.” He smiled reassuringly, before adding, “Now, let’s enjoy Christmas Eve together, yeah?”

You couldn’t help but smile back. “Alright, that sounds perfect. But I hope you’re hungry—because I made way too much food.”

“Now you’re speaking my language,” Riki teased with a playful grin, making you laugh as you led him to the table.

The night passed quickly, filled with laughter, jokes, and spent the rest of the time by a Christmas movie marathon.

At some point, you checked the time and realized it was already past midnight—Christmas Day had arrived. You couldn’t stop smiling as you felt Riki’s arms wrap around you from behind. His chin rested on your shoulder, his voice a soft murmur in your ear.

“Merry Christmas, baby,” he whispered, his breath warm against your skin.

“Merry Christmas, Ri,” you replied, your heart swelling with affection. You turned in his arms, cupping his cheeks gently in your hands.

“Thank you,” you said, your voice soft and full of gratitude. “Thank you for making my Christmas special.”

Riki’s smile grew tender, and without another word, he leaned in, his lips brushing softly against yours. The kiss was slow, warm, and comforting, as if the chill of Christmas had been completely washed away by the warmth between you two.

“Anytime.”

With Riki by your side, Christmas finally felt like Christmas again.

[wisteria-blooms]

sunburns & dragons (charlie weasley & reader) (13/15)

CHAPTER DIRECTORY

TAGLIST AT BOTTOM! PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF I MISSED ADDING YOU TO THE TAGLIST. A/N: Thank you guys for your patience and kind words. I've been in a writing slump that's for sure, so this was hard to write and tbh, I'm happy with it. BUT, there will be smut next chapter (it is extremely conducive to the plot... I say to convince myself).

CHAPTER 12: Your time with Charlie at Hogwarts ends with a moment of reckoning. And a chance to do it all again. (5.2k words)

CHAPTER 13: LASTING IMPRESSIONS

You’d never believed in parallel universes until now. The seismic shift in your belief system was caused by the version of Charlie who’d returned after his call. He was a sunny day shattered by sudden thunderstorms, and you were the one caught in the crosshairs of the storm. Yes, this was what it felt like. 

You gazed at him nervously as you sat in the Great Hall in anticipation for dinner. He remained silent, arms crossed, slouching back on the chair, and barely looking at you. His usual penchant for filling the empty air with conversation had disappeared faster than a cloaked thief in the darkness. 

“Are you alright?” you asked him after five minutes of unbearable silence. “Charlie?”

“Of course, (Y/N),” Charlie responded. He was physically here, the timbre of his voice still rich but his words felt hollow somehow. 

“You’ve been unusually quiet.”

“Oh?” A surprised look graced his face. “Have I?”

You nodded slowly, eyes narrowing at him because he was either lying or just oblivious to his own emotions.

“Well.” Charlie pushed against the long table with his palms. “I suppose I’m just pondering tomorrow’s examination.”

“What of it?”

He adjusted his collar. “I’m feeling a bit nervous.”

“I don’t believe for a second something like that could make you nervous.”

“It’s my first time getting involved in something like this,” he explained with a faint smile. “Loads to be nervous about. Has to go well.”

You flinched. “Right.”

Though you believed absolutely nothing he was saying, you didn’t press him further. If anything, you were going to say something stupid and ruin the rest of this trip. Dejected, you slumped back into your own chair, your own mood significantly dampened. Whatever was bothering him was bothering you now, too. 

The rest of the night persisted in the same manner. Charlie spoke only when necessary and very sparsely. He showered and then settled on the opposite side of the couch. You watched him through brief, pinholed glances as he sat writing something. Your book rested on your lap with its pages barely turned because you were so fixated on him. You were just a twitch away from trying to perform Legilimens on him. He never looked so guarded and you wanted nothing but to dig into that pretty head of his. Dammit! What could possibly he be worrying about?

You bit down on your lip to swallow the urge to call out his name. Charlie’s hand swiftly tied up the parchment before he pushed himself off the couch. You quickly turned away and pretended to read. Page five. Yep, that was where a whole twenty minutes got you. Your hands clenched the top of your book, nearly crinkling the pages, as you watched him strut to the window. He handed his letter to an owl and exhaled deeply in the cold air.

Whatever was bothering him, you really wished he’d consider you privy to it.

It wasn’t the sound of an alarm clock or a running shower that roused you the next morning. Instead, it was Charlie’s voice layered over a crackling fireplace.  Where was he? Cautiously, your right hand crawled over to his side of the bed. It was cold meaning he’d been up for a while now. After a few more moments, your brain finally caught on to the fact he was having a conversation with someone. 

“...No, it’ll be fine,” Charlie said. “You’ve never disappointed me before.” He chuckled. “As long as it works out next week. No idea how I’m going to convince her again. But don’t worry about it. I’ll talk to you later.”

The familiar whoosh of the fireplace that signalled the end of the conversation prompted you to resume what you hoped was a convincing slumber. Charlie then began walking. Your breath hitched when you realized his trajectory was back towards the bed. Shit.

“Hey, (Y/N), time to wake up,” Charlie sang. “We’ve got an exam to run.”

You pretended to open your eyes. “Right,” you murmured. “Good morning to you, too.”

“How are you feeling?” Charlie asked. You saw him smile through half-lidded eyes. “Ready to take on the day?”

How did you feel? Was he serious? You felt like total shit. Like you hadn’t spent all of last night stringing theories like a madman about why Charlie was upset, but you weren’t ready to play conspiracy theorist to his face. “Like I don’t want to get up.”

Charlie laughed. “I know.” The bed dipped when he suddenly dropped his weight on it. You bounced up slightly, jolting awake. He slipped one of his hands under the covers. “I really didn’t want to get up either. It looked cold out there, and you were so warm here.”

Without a warning, he tossed the covers off. The cold air iced your skin immediately which caused your mood to foul. “Ugh,” you let out an exasperated sound, “ I wish we could stay here all day.”

“We? Here?” Charlie tilted his head down, eyes looking up at you suspiciously with a stupid, teasing grin on his face. “We could make that happen if there weren’t an exam in the way.”

“I mean, I wish I could—” Your words tumbled in all the wrong directions. You prayed the red wasn’t visible on your cheeks. “How long have you been awake?” you asked in a desperate attempt to redirect the conversation. 

Charlie pulled his mouth side to side, thinking, blue eyes staring at the ceiling. “Two hours or so, maybe longer.”

“I assume you didn’t get much sleep.”

“No, I didn’t.” Charlie creased his eyes, accentuating his undereye area. “I missed out on some serious beauty sleep. But regardless, we’ve got an exam to run, so”— he took hold of your wrists and pulled your body up in one smooth motion, letting your face get dangerously close to his —“let’s get to it.”

“It should be decently easy, this whole thing,” Charlie assured as he opened the door to the examination room for you, revealing perfectly-arranged rows of tables. “Now, let’s go over some ground rules.”

As you listened attentively to his instructions, there was one thing that stood out to you: Charlie was in much better spirits this morning. Did it have anything to do with his conversation he had before you’d woken? You replayed the words in your head. 

“You’ve never disappointed me before.”

“As long as it works out next week.”

“No idea how I’m going to convince her again.”

What did any of that mean? What was happening next week? And who was he talking to and whom about? 

”This is (Y/N) Malfoy. She will be invigilating your examination,” Charlie explained when his students filtered in. You waved with a slight smile. One girl turned back to whisper to her friend. Charlie sat atop the table, the soles of his shoes flush the floor. “I’ve made the rules very clear last week, so don’t even attempt any funny business. (Y/N) had a large part in the products sold in my brothers’ shop in Diagon Alley. I’ve told you about them—troublemakers through and through.” The class laughed. “If you require proof, her name is embossed on the back of the Skiving Snackbox.” His last line, again, elicited a chorus of laughter.

“Is that true?” a boy with glasses quipped from his seat.

“It is,” you answered with a nod. Your head caught halfway, wondering if you should’ve clarified that you were friends. You hadn’t spoken to Fred or George in weeks. Your name might not even be on the box when these kids get there for the holidays. 

“And there’s a celebratory Quidditch game after, or you can do some time trials with Madame Hooch if you prefer,” Charlie announced. “I’ll see you all on the field later.” He held up a hand to signal his goodbye. Before he left, he placed a hand on the small of your back and whispered in your ear, “You got this, (Y/N).” 

His actions drew some obvious ire and fresh curiosity from some of his students. “I’ll see you down at the field after. You remember what to do with the papers, right?”

“Of course. Thank you, Charlie.” You straightened your back and tried to maintain your composure. When Charlie left, you commanded the attention of the class. Respect was earned, not asked for. “You have an hour starting now. I will remind you of the time in 15-minute intervals.”

The hour ended without a hitch. Relieved, you collected each and every exam paper and dismissed the students. They ran out in celebration—guess the exam went well. Out of curiosity, you flipped through one just to see what kind of questions Charlie was going to torture his students with. The amount of passion he had for beasts, you had to imagine he was going down to the nitty-gritty. 

To your surprise, even you knew most of the answers. How curious of him indeed. 

You stored the papers in a protected compartment and triple-checked the enchantments. When all your tasks were done, you slipped your coat on and made your way down to the field. 

There was indeed a series of Quidditch games taking place on the field. It was mainly supervised by Madame Hooch and loosely by Charlie who was either chatting with her or a student. At this moment, he was listening attentively to what a female student in sport robes was telling—or complaining, it sounded—to him. Awkwardly, you shuffled towards the stands, ensuring you were well behind Charlie. As much as you enjoyed the insinuation of being Charlie’s something, you had to take a literal step back. Trying to understand Charlie’s intentions was like saving yourself from quicksand. There was no use in fighting for it—you just had to lay back and hope to make it out alive. 

By this point, Charlie had concluded his conversation with the student and turned back to Madame Hooch. 

“You had a rare talent in Quidditch,” Madame Hooch complimented, her voice carrying over the loud cheers. Probably a much needed habit of hers. “I still haven’t seen anything like it since you left.”

Charlie shrugged. The sight of his large shoulders made your knees weak. Good thing you were already seated. “I don’t know, Bill was pretty good.”

“Bill was good, but not as good as you.”

Charlie laughed. “Finally, something I’m better at.”

”Is it true that he’s a father now?” Madame Hooch asked. 

”Word travels fast, doesn’t it?”

”I heard it in the faculty room. We remember his wife from the Triwizard Tournament, of course.” Then, Madame Hooch paused. Your breathing paused with her. “Sincerely, I would delay my own retirement if it meant teaching your children. Of course, if that’s in the cards.”

“Mhm,” Charlie vocalized, followed by a long silence that killed you. “I wouldn’t bet on it, Madame Hooch.”

“Really?” she laughed, her arms still tightly crossed against her chest and eyes on the field. “You were always… well, I always thought it’d be that Evangeline girl. You were prone to flying off somewhere after class. Seemed like you liked her the best out of all of them.”

“I’m embarrassed you still remember it like it was yesterday.”

Your chest tightened and your hands clenched inside your mittens, your fingernails digging crescents into your palm. 

“Of course I would,” Madame Hooch responded. “I was the poor faculty member on the broom trying to reel you back to the school grounds. You got as far as Feldcroft that day.”

The cold air that had built up in your lungs became impossible to push out, leaving your insides feeling bitter and frigid. This was your punishment for your indulgence, of listening to a conversation that wasn’t yours to engage with. You shut your eyes and tried not to let your brain get the best of you. 

“You look a little old to be here.”

You quickly turned to your right. A young girl with large, round glasses and a book tucked under her right arm sat beside you, half-heartedly looking at the pitch. Her curly brown hair poked out violently from under her hood. 

You smiled. “I suppose I am.”

“You’d look a little better if you turned your frown upside down. That’s what my parents always tell me.”

You softened your features. “Better?”

“Yes.” Then, she squinted at you. “Were you our invigilator today?”

“I was.”

“I thought you looked familiar. My name’s Lucinda, by the way. But you can call me Lucy.”

“Nice to meet you, Lucy. I’m (Y/N).” When Lucy showed no signs of going back to her book, you deduced she wanted a friend to talk to. So, you shifted your knees towards her. “How are you finding the class so far?”

She perked up at your interest. “Well, I don’t even like magical beasts, but I took the class to get out of my comfort zone. My parents say that it’s important to do that sometimes. I was expecting to hate it but it turns out that Mr. Weasley is a pretty decent teacher, one of the best, really. So, I was happy with my decision.”

You thought back to his no-frills exam. “He is, isn’t he?”

She furrowed her brows, confusion wrinkling her young flesh. “Well, out of everyone here, you should know. Aren’t you his wife?”

“What—” You almost choked. You squeezed your eyes shut for a second, resisting the urge to squeeze your temples. “No, but that seems to be a common misunderstanding.”

Lucy sighed. “I have to tell Clarissa to stop spreading rumours again. She's always wrong. But you can convince anyone of anything if you sound confident enough.” An adorably smug smile lit up her face. “I could tell she was wrong right away.”

“How so?”

“He’s not wearing a ring. And neither are you.”

You looked down at your hands. Though gloved, there was no bulge of metal poking out. “That’s very astute of you.”

“So I’ve been told. And speaking of observations, here’s another one I made. I told Clarrisa on our first day of class that I reckoned Mr. Weasley didn’t really want to be here. It seemed that we both shared fake enthusiasm for this class. She didn’t agree, but I’m pretty good at seeing through people. And I'd rather just say what's on my mind and not worry about what other people think. If they disagree, maybe they weren't my friend in the first place.”

“Is that so?” You urged her to go on, but in your heart, you knew she was wrong. She wasn’t the one who’d seen Charlie when he first returned to England in September three months ago. He had been there, right in front of you, exuberant and all engines on. 

”Yeah, but over time, he seemed to genuinely enjoy being in the classroom. As did I.”

”Why do you think that is?” you laughed. 

“Who knows.” Lucy shuffled back and forth in her seat. “I just know I wouldn’t want Mr. Weasley’s real job. It seems so terrible and dangerous.”

“Where do you want to work?” you asked.

“With the Ministry like my parents. At a desk where it’s safe. I don’t want any of those near-death experiences Mr. Weasley’s described to us. ‘Oh, that dragon was going to take off my head this time, I was sure of it, but I walked away with a slight scratch.’ Do you reckon he wears a four-leaf clover around his neck? Clarissa and Niamh think it’s so brave and cool, but I think it’s reckless.”

“I work at the Ministry,” you offered. “But sitting at a desk all day is not what’s cracked up to be.” You stretched your legs out. “Sometimes, I reckon I’m going to get a clot from how much I sit.”

Lucy grimaced. “Gross.” Then, she pushed up her glasses with her pointer finger. “But I’m sure it’ll suit me fine.”

Just then, the final whistle pierced the air, putting an end to the festivities. 

“Well,” Lucy said, dusting off her skirt. “I guess that’s it for me. Nice to meet you, (Y/N). I like having someone to talk to, especially someone older.”

“I enjoyed it, so thank you.” Maybe Lucy was right. It was nice to talk to someone to get your mind off Charlie. 

“Bye then!” 

You watched her run off towards two girls who’d just stepped out from the field. “Lucy, where’d you go?” one asked. You were close enough to hear the first part of Lucy’s brave retort: “I was seeking the truth, Clarissa. In which case, you’ll be disappointed to know…”

The snow crunched rhythmically behind you. Someone was approaching and now hovering over you.

“I’ve been looking for you. Were you making friends with my student?” Charlie asked. The delectable, deep notes of his voice tickled your ears. 

“I did,” you affirmed, turning around and trying to hold it together. “Lucy is very bright and precocious.”

“She is,” Charlie agreed. “For someone who bluntly admitted they weren’t going to take the class after this year, she sure did well on the practicum.”

“I got that feeling myself.”

“You know, she reminds me of you.”

“Really?” you questioned. “Because she took this elective against her will? She seems to be having a much better go at this than me.”

“No, but—” Charlie slipped his hands in his pockets. “As you said, she’s very smart, very outspoken and amusingly truthful.” He inhaled sharply before screeching: “Mr. Weasley, you know I really admire you, but I hate purple toads! Why would you do this to me? It’s my birthday this week!” 

“Is that what you think of me?” you asked. “That’s… sweet of you.”

Charlie leaned in closer. “On second thought, I don’t know much about truthful. You always look like you’re hiding something.” His blue eyes latched onto yours. “Are you?”

Hand on his chest, you pushed him back slightly. “Don’t be silly. I’m an open book.”

“If you had anything to say, you’d just tell me?”

“Of course I would. Would you?”

“I couldn’t imagine a moment where I wouldn’t be speaking my mind.”

“You know what they say, Charlie,” you started, eyes narrowing playfully. “Every accusation is a confession.”

“Who taught you that? Your dad’s barrister?” 

You groaned which caused Charlie to laugh. “You’d have to pay me to stand in the same room during that conversation,” you said. “I’m falling asleep just thinking about it.” 

Charlie outstretched his arms. “Fall away, (Y/N). I’m right here.”

You contemplated your next step. Fuck it, you could be a damsel in distress for once in your life. You dramatically placed the back of your hand on your forehead and stumbled towards him. The cold air that was situated in your lungs finally escaped when you laughed. How quickly it disappeared. You felt warmer, lighter now that Charlie was back to his normal self. 

“Did you have a good time?” Charlie asked. 

Two days had passed in the blink of an eye. You and Charlie were back on the train, in the same compartment that had brought you here. 

“I did.”

“Much better than being in your stuffy cubicle at the  Ministry?” Charlie asked earnestly.

You tapped your shoe on the floor and waffled on your answer. “I suppose it’s nice. I actually get to stand, get some fresh air, and feel a sense of adventure. I told Lucy that I was going to get a clot from working at the Ministry. She recoiled.”

“We have very different thresholds for excitement, it seems.”

“So how do you feel about it?” you queried with a smile. “Being here and not in Romania?”

Charlie stretched his arms over his head, almost grazing the shelving. If he was putting on a display of muscle for you, then you were absolutely falling for it. “If I’m being honest with you, it’s refreshing. I feel very well-rested. You forget how much of a toll handling dragons takes on you physically. But to be clear, I still prefer my job in Romania.” He flexed his bicep (just for you?). “Though I reckon I’ve lost a lot of muscle just sitting around all day with mum feeding me.”

You shook your head. “It doesn’t look like it to me.”

“Ah, so my suspicions were correct,” Charlie beamed. “You have been ogling me.”

“What?” You leaned forward quickly. “This was just a general observation. I was being nice—!” 

Charlie glanced at his arm. A crooked smile spread across his face. For a brief moment, you imagined straddling his lap again. The seat’s headrest is a headboard, his sweater is nothing, and the metallic walls of the train are the soft curtains of a four-poster. This mantra was such a dangerous rhetoric and you just might never view a train seat the same way again. “(Y/N), you know you can just ask to touch me. I would say yes.”

His words stirred temptation but you need to prove your resilience. You instead let out a scoff. “For what reason? “

“You just look like you really want to.”

“Keep dreaming, Charlie.”

“Hey, if you want to keep spending time with me, come back with me next Friday,” he suggested. 

You thought about the amassed pile of paperwork burying Angus. “I can’t take every single week off,” you countered. “My coworker would die a slow death without me.”

Charlie twisted his mouth to one side. “I’ll make you an offer: come back just one last time before I head back to Romania, and you’ll never have to see the damned school again.” 

You blinked at him. “Won’t…all the students be gone next week?”

“They’ll be leaving when we get there, yeah.”

Your heart rate picked up. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t excited at the prospect of spending more alone time with Charlie, especially the part where you just had to sleep in the same bed as him. The horror. “So what will we be… doing?”

“Whatever you want,” he said. He grinned when he realised he’d caught you off-guard. “But in all seriousness, grading the exams, clearing out my office and classroom, and keeping me company while I complete my administrative work before I get back to Romania.”

Your excitement was quashed by the mention of Romania. You had blissfully forgotten that he was returning after Christmas. 

“Think about it, okay?” Charlie suggested. His tone was gentle, almost pleading in nature despite giving you the illusion of choice. “Anyway, Mum asked us to come over. Says she’s got a beef stew on the pot.”

So, it was decided. You’d head to Molly’s before settling back in at the apartment. In the end, you decided to take Charlie up on his offer of dinner. The reminder of his being gone by the end of month stressed that you needed a smidgeon of time more with him to ascertain how you felt about him. As Charlie opened the door for you, you wondered if it was futile either way. He clearly preferred being in Romania than in England and would go back regardless. There was no way he’d change his life trajectory because you fancied him. 

You passed by Percy on the couch. The glasses on his face moved every time he scrunched his nose over some unsettling news in the Daily Prophet.

“Hey Perce,” Charlie greeted, patting his shoulder. 

“Hello Charlie,” Percy responded without much of a glance upwards. “(Y/N).”

“Hello, Percy,” you responded rather quietly. 

Charlie led you into the kitchen. There, Bill was leaning against the wall and talking quietly with his mother. Your eyes widened at the sight of the room. Molly’s kitchen had lost its domestic charm and was now a war-time assembly line. There were pounds of carrots and potatoes on the cutting board, on the stove, and baby bottles and caps strewn near the sink. The amount of stew on the stove could feed Charlie’s extended family… and yours, too.  

“Hey Charlie, (Y/N)!” Bill bounced off the wall. “How was Hogwarts? How’d the exams go?”

“Wonderful,” you said. “I was a bit nervous at first, but I’m happy it went well.”

Charlie’s hand found your shoulder. “(Y/N) was the perfect invigilator.”

Bill smiled at Charlie, his eyes quietly communicating something you couldn’t decipher. “Anything interesting happen?” Bill was now looking expectantly at you, the curve of his mouth urging a response. What did he want to hear? You looked back at Charlie for clues, but face revealed nothing. He was as still as a statue.  

You were grateful it wasn’t entirely silent. Molly was working away in the background, the clash of metal on metal giving you something else to focus on. 

“I.. managed to tame a flobberworm?” you responded. 

Charlie cracked up from behind you. “Good one.”

Bill hummed. “Shame, I was hoping for something more exciting.”

“Have you gotten a chance to hold Victoire with mum around?” Charlie joked. 

“Not a chance,” Bill laughed, arms folded. “I haven’t seen my daughter at all today. You better watch out if you’re next.”

Amusement crossed Charlie’s face. “She can have them,” he suggested. “Would take a load off my shoulders.”

“Be a darling and bring this up for Fleur, would you now, Bill?” Molly handed a tray with stew and toasted bread to Bill. Smiling warmly, she looked at you and Charlie. “Fleur has to eat to keep her energy up. Victoire is always hungry just like her father.”

Bill groaned. “Oh no, not this story again.”

“What story? The one where you had to be fed twenty times a day?” Charlie recounted. “But I share the blame. You and I ate all the rations, that’s why Percy’s so… slender.” 

A very cross-sounding grunt sounded from the living room. 

Bill placed a kiss on his mother’s cheek. “Thank you mum, you’ve been so wonderful to us.”

“Oh, you know I’d do the same for any one of you,” Molly hummed, her cheeks a pleasant pink from Bill’s compliment. She stole a quick glance at Charlie. “I’d be willing to do double-duty, too, you know.” The implication was deadly and heavy on her lips.

Charlie, without missing a beat, placed his hands on his mother’s shoulders and steered her away. “Why don’t you take a break and daydream quietly on the recliner instead? I’ll take care of the kitchen for you and get everything set up before everyone else comes.”

“Fine,” Molly conceded, ushering Charlie away with a huff so she could untie her apron. “I might have said this one too many times, but I so enjoy having you at home.” Apron slung across her arm, she planted a firm kiss on Charlie’s cheek. Charlie muttered something akin to ‘embarassing’ and ‘not six years old anymore’. When she strode past you, she beamed at you, and made sure to add: “And you too, (Y/N). You are welcome anytime, with or without Charlie.”

You nodded politely. Once again, the implication was heavy. Was it right to continue to play along, intertwining yourself further in a lie, into a knot that couldn’t be undone? Why couldn’t you just tell Molly that you weren’t with Charlie? Wait, why couldn’t he do it for you? And who were you too scared to shatter the illusion for—Molly or you?

Charlie dusted his hands as he walked back to the kitchen. You peeked past him, past the overloaded wooden shelving on the wall. Molly had really taken Charlie’s advice and found comfort in the recliner, no doubt resting her worn feet. 

“Well, that’s mum off my—our backs,” Charlie hummed. 

“Right,” you responded, his wording sending a fresh wave of confusion and anticipation through you. Our backs. “I’ll help set up for dinner. How many people are we expecting?”

Charlie counted with his fingers. “You, me, dad, mum, Bill, Perce, Ron, Hermione, Fred, George, Gin, Harry… have I got them all?”

“You have!” Molly called from the other room.

Fred. George. Your skin turned cold. A vision consumed your line of sight. Fred and George would walk through the door for dinner and you’d say nothing to each other beside a forced ‘hello’. Then, you’d be forced into an awkward reunion over the dinner table. 

It was best to remove yourself from the situation before it could actually happen. 

With impressive speed, you laid out the rest of the plates. “I just remembered, I have… something to do back home,” you stammered. 

“What’s that?” Charlie asked, putting his final plate down and looking at you with furrowed brows. “You’re leaving already?”

“Yes.” You racked your brain for a passable excuse. “Something in regards to the… Christmas… party. Right, the luncheon with the minister. I’m helping my father with the seating arrangements.” So what if you weren’t exactly in charge of it? You were due to submit your seating request so it wasn’t technically a lie. 

“Do you even plan to go?” Charlie asked. He was nothing if not confused. “ It sounds so…stuffy.”

“I promised to help and now it’s so close to the actual date, but we’ve been away and I—”

“Alright, alright, you go on then,” Charlie relented. “But you’re missing out. Can I bring something back for you? A spot of stew?”

”That’d be great, thanks Charlie.” You walked quickly towards the door again, eyes darting out of the window for any sign of Fred or George. “Bye Percy, bye Mrs. Weasley. I’m sorry about this.”

If déjà-vu had a faultless definition, then this was it: you, running away from something that made you uncomfortable. When did it happen last? You combed through the places you retreated to prior to this: a dingy motel because of your blow-up with Fred and George and then to manor due to your meltdown over Mallory. 

Mallory.

The past few days washed away—for better or worse—the reason you were upset in the first place. You’d been swimming in the ever-changing current that was Charlie’s ocean. And now you were drowning.

Charlie took you to the highest of highs and let you down to the lowest of lows. He flirted with you from the get-go, wrote to you constantly, kissed you in front of your parents, and let your feelings swell into one big, hopeful bubble. Then, with a needle, he popped it. Drinks with friends, he'd said. In hindsight, maybe you shouldn’t have gotten so wound up about it. You had no pact to be faithful to one another for obvious reasons. And you didn’t even know what had even transpired at the bar that night.

Whatever had happened, you swore off falling for Charlie’s schemes ever again until he charmed you back after an outing with your cousins. He was almost on his knees, asking you to please please please go to Hogwarts with him just to invigilate an exam. And your tender, naive heart couldn’t stomach saying no. 

Resentment abandoned, you let him shamelessly feel you up on the train, listened to him spill his guts to you at midnight in the Astronomy Tower, hopped into the same bed with him without so much as a fight, and agreed to dinner with his family. A family that was convinced you were together. Why was it so hard to remember to stay mad at him? Why were you so desperate to be tethered to him despite the end being so foreseeable?

You were a coward. But you couldn’t help it. It felt good to be able to run. 

NEXT CHAPTER>> (coming soon)

CHAPTER DIRECTORY

TAGLIST: @badgerqueen07 @superduckmilkshake @k-k-merlin @kisskittenn @pluiesdefleurs@lilianelena39 @bathwater101 @evilunicorns4minions @noah-uhhh-what @earth-to-lottie @kissingyourgrl @sihtricswife @adalia-jaycee @anuttellaa @weasley-clan @morks-watermelon @nobodysbabydoll @annoyingbean630 @bathwater101 @ladylizzieofdarbyshire @unrulynique @sarah3245 @hoeforsirius @crusty-lil-gremlin @atomictyphoonkitten @linnygirl09 @adhxmoony @jjsblueberry @bluewillowchina1 @chippedchina-teacup @coffeepunk22 @audhdscribbles @mlnscloud @sveretrice @yuptha-tsme @fore45fore @navs-bhat @xisab @melsunshine @mesii2221 @hauntedwombateggmug @annoyinglyspookytiger @lafillefrancaisee @theroyalmanatee

[jjenthusee]

Late Night Talks

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

A/N: I’ve wanted angst, so this happened. Here’s another angsty drabble I’ve also written, if you’re interested. Comment your thoughts if you’re comfortable <3, I wanna know if this made you feel as empty as it did to me T-T (Link to pt.2 here)

Tags: Angst, hurt/no comfort, JASON SAY SOMETHING ANYTHING

Word Count: 2.2k

“Do you remember how we met?” You took another drink, the taste of alcohol invading your mouth.

“Hm.” Jason hummed, a glass of water in front of him, domino mask plopped next to it.

“I laugh every time I think of it.” You chuckled. “You smacked me pretty hard that day.”

Jason groaned as you giggled at your words. Your drunk self reminiscing on old memories, memories you didn’t dare think about sober.

“Don’t remind me, I was delirious from blood loss.” Jason winced at the memory. “Not my best moment.”

“Fair enough, it wasn’t very smart of me to approach a masked man bleeding onto the street.” You smiled, feeling the alcohol warm you. “So much has changed since then.” You swirled your glass, watching the liquid spin.

You held up your glass cup, watching the droplets fall down the sides. You hadn’t realized you drank so much that you had spilled some of your drink on the coffee table, your hand accidentally wiping it. The liquid surrounding your glass.

Jason grabbed a napkin to wipe underneath your drink. Grabbing your hand to wipe your fingers after.

You hands felt hot. You grabbed your cold cup to empty out the rest, not letting your mind wander too long on the contact.

“Look at us now, we’re sitting against my couch as I finish this bottle.” You lift the nearly empty wine bottle as you refilled your glass, focusing on trying not to get a drop over the edge this time. “You don’t have a mask on and we’re friends! No hitting too!”

Jason laid his head against the cushions as he watched you take another long drink.

He had stopped by unexpectedly. Seeking the comfort of someone else, so he dropped in by your window. He crawled in, making his footsteps loud enough to alert you that he was visiting you, but he found you, next to your couch, tipsy.

He rarely saw you drink. He hadn’t seen you at all the last couple of weeks.

Something must have been bothering you to bring out a bottle, half empty when he showed up. He was too afraid to ask what brought out this rare occasion, he already wasn’t around enough to know, so if you wanted to drink to forget, then he would stay quiet.

So Jason stayed, sitting on the floor with you, leaning against your couch. Barely fitting in the space between your couch and the coffee table. He listened to you ramble about anything that came to your mind. Dessert shops you wanted to try, a new shirt you saw at the store, the outrageous grocery prices.

He asked if you had eaten before you started drinking, bringing you a cup of water.

You were in a talkative mood, answering every question he asked.

“What did you eat?” Jason gently asked.

“Leftover pizza.”You cheerfully answered, making a triangle with your fingers to add to your point.

“Did you drink water today?”

“No.” You quietly said, quickly putting your hands down, pouting as you refused to look at him.

Cute. Jason thought.

“How was work?”

You eyes brightened.

“I have to tell you about this one lady that came in today, I wanted to shove my pen down her throat for how much attitude she gave me—“

As you talked, he made sure you were taking care of yourself. He didn’t want to see you dragging too much in the morning, but he also wouldn’t mind seeing your bed head as you rummaged through the fridge for a quick meal and a water.

“Actually, I lied earlier. I’ve haven’t changed. At all.” You stilled. The drunk, cheerful atmosphere suddenly getting serious.

The shift in your voice capturing Jason’s attention as he lifted his head to stare at you fully.

“I don’t think so.” He reassured you. Curious about your sudden self-conscious attitude.

Your eyebrows lower, clearly bothered by what Jason said.

“You don’t see it because you only see one version of me.” You stated, talking to Jason like that was a certain fact. “You don’t have anything to compare it to.”

“I don’t believe that.” Jason remarked, amused at your drunken talk. He’s never heard you so pouty, but also talking back to him with more spite.

“No, no,” You waved a finger in his face. Too close to his face, but the alcohol blurred your hand-eye coordination. “I’m a completely different person when I’m not with you.”

Jason’s ears perking up at the sudden confession.

You glanced at Jason, waving your hands to prove your point, eyes half-lidded, a slight glossiness to them.

“I’m a major perfectionist. I don’t allow myself to make mistakes. I try to calculate every little wrong move I could possibly make and find ways to handle each and every one.”

You took another sip. Jason sat up straighter, your sudden honesty causing him to look at you, really look at you. To dial into your expression, the subtle movements influenced from the alcohol and your eyes. You looked more relaxed, but sadness melted into your tone, into your body language.

“I had to be the best, to know the most, to constantly keep myself busy.” You looked off to the window behind Jason’s head. Losing yourself to your inner thoughts.

Jason waited, not wanting to interrupt. His intuition telling him that this was important, a rare vulnerable moment from you.

“You were the first person to see me completely ruined. I made so many mistakes in front of you. You made fun of my fuck ups and I was so shocked when you called me an ‘airhead.’” You loudly laughed, trying to cover up your somber feelings.

“I’ve never heard that in my life!” Your eyes crinkled from the wide smile on your face. “I was so angry at you, I thought, ‘Who’s this asshole!?’ But, despite all the teasing, I’ve never felt so relieved. I didn’t have to keep up an appearance with you. You accepted the bad version of me.”

You lazily leaned your head on the couch, the side of your face feeling the fabric. Facing Jason as you laid on your side. Jason followed after you, laying his head down too. He kept some distance between your faces, but his hand laid close to yours. He wouldn’t touch you, but he would keep his hand close.

Your face had frowned. Jason lazily smiled at your pouty look returning, wondering what you were going to say next..

“It felt suffocating when you left.” You confessed.

Jason’s eyes widened, smile disappearing.

“I was alone, trying to keep up my fake image.” Your voice got quiet. Suddenly aware of the heaviness of your words.

Jason faltered. The rawness of your voice catching him off guard.

“I missed you when you left me alone. I couldn’t handle this apartment. I was suffocating without you here.” Your eyes watered, your throat aching.

Your voice wobbled, but you mustered any self-control to blink the tears away.

Jason stared at you, his brain not fully comprehending watching your eyes water.

He had never seen you cry. So he was at a loss, speechless as his mouth opened to comfort you, but nothing came out.

You took a deep breath, gaining back control of yourself.

“But you came back. You’re here.” You closed your eyes, voice steadier, but foolishly believing that tears won’t fall if you don’t open your eyes.

Jason’s hand inched closer to yours. Cautiously about to touch your fingers.

“But it hurts. It hurts so much.” You weakly said.

His hand faltered, never reaching yours.

“I want so much. Too much.”

Jason’s hands clenched

“I didn’t know what was happening to me. I smiled every time you came into my thoughts.” Your tears building at the corners of your eyes. “I wondered if you smiled like I did. If I’m ever on your mind—”

“Don’t.” Jason interrupted, watching a lone tear fall from your eye, dropping onto the couch.

“I worry about you, your vigilante stuff, if you were hurting. That I wasn’t there.”

“Stop. Please.” Jason pressed his eyes shut, somehow thinking it would stop him from hearing your voice. So he wouldn’t have to look at the tears.

“But—but, I know better. I know you’re not mine. I can’t reach for you.” You slurred, wiping your tears with the back of your hand.

You opened your eyes, tears still falling to the side of your face. You watched Jason, he was tense, eyes closed and his eyebrows pushed together.

“I can’t ask you to stop being Red Hood. I could never ask that of you.” You sniffed, softly whispering to him, afraid someone might over hear your well kept secrets. “I’ve dreamed of how happy you could be, but I know you wouldn’t trade your happiness for the cost of leaving other people alone, other people that you want to save. I can’t breathe knowing that I would be responsible for all your guilt. That I would selfishly keep you away from something greater.”

Jason’s expression weakened. His eyebrows relaxing, his frown not as prominent at your tender words.

“But I scared myself. I would be selfish.” You continued. “I would let you be mad at me for the rest of your life, for asking something so awful.”

Jason’s eyes opened, a sickening sad tenderness in his gaze.

“I would never be mad at you.” He whispered back, voice hoarse.

You couldn’t take it. You pressed your face into the cushion, trying to let as much of the tears disappear into the fabric. You stayed there for a moment before you looked back at Jason, your eyelashes covered in tears, the tip of your nose pink from the emotions.

“I believe that being next to you is the right thing for me,” You hesitated, “But I don’t think you want to be next to me.”

Jason winced. A prick in his chest at your words.

“You don’t have to tell me. I don’t want you to tell me—it will ruin me.” You spoke through the fresh tears.

You lifted your hand from the bottom of the couch, reaching out to Jason’s face. He didn’t move away from you like he always did, he was so still, you thought maybe this was another fabrication you dreamed, but when your fingers landed on his cheek, it was soft. You flinched from him like you were touching a hot burner.

With increasing confidence that he might not pull away, you laid your fingers back on his face, softly tracing the edges of his scars. You were past your limit, but if this was possibly the last night that Jason came by after running your mouth, then you wanted at least this—this last goodbye, this last moment of Jason to yourself.

Jason didn’t say anything. He stayed still while you touched him, hands clenched, watching your eyes, your lips tremble, the lines of tears left on your face.

You took your time to memorize his features. To look at Jason. You wished he got mad at you, rejected your hand touching him, rejected your words, but he didn’t. He could’ve left whenever he wanted, not listening to your drunk self, but he was still laying here, facing you.

“I would have let you ruin me.” You whispered, so soft that you barely heard yourself.

You let go of Jason, clenching onto the couch cushion below your head. You closed your eyes, tired from the emotions, tired from the alcohol, tired from the thoughts of waking up tomorrow to everything you did.

Jason rubbed his cheek, where you touched him.

He stared at your vulnerable state, watching a single tear cling to your lashes.

He reached forward, ready to wipe your eyes, but he stopped. Hearing your quiet whimper as you turned your face to bury your head in your arms on the couch.

His hand dropped.

You tried to get yourself under control, but the tears wouldn’t stop. You sniffled, trying anything to steady the trembling and the uncontrollable breathing. A couple of deep breaths later, you lifted your head, feeling ready to apologize for everything that happened in your drunken state.

“Jay, I’m sor—“

He was gone.

The space he sat in was empty. No droop in the cushion where he leaned into.

You stilled, tears pausing, mindlessly staring, wondering if you had made up everything that happened.

You reached at the cushion, feeling at the threads, warmth still lingering.

You were calm. Too calm.

You glanced at the coffee table. No domino mask, but his glass was still there, completely full.

He left. He really left.

You curled into the couch, your sobbing muffled into the cushions. Grabbing the edges as you yelled at yourself.

“You idiot.” You pulled at your hair, crushing your hands into the cushions. “I fucked up—I really fucked up.” You threw a pillow, anger overtaking you.

“I can’t do anything right!” You cried into your hands.

Finally letting yourself release the cries you’ve been pushing down.

The high from the anger died out quickly, your shoulders drooping. Your sobs drowning into quiet muffles. You legs aching from sitting on the floor, your eyes hurting from too many tears.

You quieted down.

Your hands falling from your face to your lap, emptily looking at the crevices of your hands.

“This is the one mistake I should’ve kept hidden from you.” You trembled, speaking into the emptiness of your living room.

Jason sat outside your window, out of sight as he listened.

[vampzity]

[ 8:29 pm ]

You stared outside the window, feeling the small amounts of cold radiating from the glass. Snow was falling, and falling fast. You had always loved the snow, especially when it was fresh like this. Though you still felt empty in a way. You shouldn’t be enjoying this snowfall alone but that was quite impossible as your boyfriend was stuck at the studio with his members.

You looked at your phone, the time reading 8:29 pm. It’s been over an hour and you have yet to receive a text from him yet. You didn’t like to bother him when he was working, but he should’ve been home 2 hours ago. It was unusual for him to not update you if he needed to stay longer.

You turned to the dinner table, nicely plated with food in their own dishes just waiting to be dug into. You decided to make his favorites, kimchi stew with rice cakes. You had also made cheesecake brownies as you were slowly getting into baking and knew brownies were his favorite.

Though at this point, everything was just cold.

Cold and unenjoyable.

Sighing heavily you walked over to the couch, turning down the volume on the weather channel. You began to call Felix for the last time, only to receive no answer.

Again.

That was all you needed to understand that he just wasn’t coming anytime soon, that he wasn’t going to reply to you anytime soon. It wasn’t like him, and you’d normally be worried if his location didn’t show him at the company.

You grabbed the folded blanket that sat at the edge of the couch, wrapping it around you as you laid down to watch the tv. A part of you hoped that Felix would just walk through the door at that very moment. That he would be at your knees with a gazillion excuses, practically smothering you in kisses to make you forget his tardiness.

Except you’ve accepted that wasn’t the case.

— ✧⁂✬ —

“y/n?”

Felix closed the door, shivering slightly from the freezing cold. He changed into his slippers, taking off his coat and leaving it on the coat rack. It was odd to catch you sleeping on the couch, especially alone. He walked over to your limp body, frowning slightly remembering the numerous amount of texts and calls he received.

He sat in front of you, rubbing your arm slightly so he wouldn’t startle you. Nothing. Felix glanced to the clock in the kitchen; the time reading 11:23 pm. His eyes fell to the table, catching a glimpse of the untouched food and dishes you set up meticulously. A sudden weight rested on his shoulders, feeling so much guilt for making you wait so long. He felt sorry that you went to sleep on an empty stomach, as you always preferred to eat with him. He kissed your forehead softly, the cold lips awaking you just barely.

“Hey angel.”

A soft deep voice filled your ears, making you open your eyes to see a blonde boy standing in front of you. He smiled at you as his hand came up to caress your face softly.

“I’m sorry I’m late. You must be mad with me, yeah?”

You blushed slightly, rolling your eyes as you tried to remain upset with him. Felix frowned, playing with your hair while he sat in front of you.

“You have every right to be mad with me and I’m okay with that..”

A small smile appeared on his face again. “I wanna show you something.”

You furrow your eyebrows, watching as he unzipped his sweater to see a small head pop out from the inside. It was a kitten, white fur with brown covering her eyes and head like a helmet. Your eyes popped out of your head seeing the little animal, immediately sitting up on the couch.

“Oh my god?! Felix?!”

He placed the cat in your lap, watching as she sniffed you. She rubbed her head against your body, slowly becoming comfortable with you as she laid there. You pet her fur, her warmth seeping into your skin and her purrs vibrating against you.

“The boys and I found her outside the building, no collar, no name tag or anything. So I decided to take her home. It’s too cold to just leave her.”

He looked up at you, watching the way your eyes lit up at the sight of her. He smiled, looking back over to the table.

“Why didn’t you eat?”

You looked up at him, a slight sigh escaping your lips.

“I don’t like to eat without you.” You looked back down at the cat. “You know that.”

Felix took your hand, caressing it with his thumb while giving you a reassuring smile.

“Well I’m here now and I see you made my favorite.” He looked back at the table, eyebrows raised. “Ahh, two of my favorites?”

You gave him a small look, a smirk following behind it. “Be mad at me all you want angel, but I know you’re hungry.”

He got up from where he sat, kissing you on the cheek softly before brushing past your ear.

“Maybe I can make it up to you later, yeah?”

He pulled the cat into his arms, winking at you as he walked over to the kitchen. His deep whisper sent chills down your spine making him laugh at your body’s response. He set the cat down beside him, preparing to heat up the stew so you wouldn’t have to do so again.

“You coming, angel?”

a/n: i wrote this weeks ago when we had our first snowfall here :3

taglist: @rvereri @dvrktvnnel @h4untedgrl @scarfac3 @jjongibears

@sundaybossanova @kittykat-25 @yyaurii @hwasddeongbyeoli @woojirang

@vnessalau @dollywoo @tiredlittlevirgo @roomsofangel @minghaoslatina

@mingtinysworld @joonezra @honeyhwaaa @evidive

[huge-jacked-man-is-bae]

Late night

In which you wait for Old Man Logan to come home after a job

Warning(s): conflicts, swearing, feelings (is that even a warning??), stubborn Logan

Pairing: Old Man Logan x Reader

(no use of Y/N)

\|/ \|/ \|/ \|/ \|/ \|/ \|/ \|/ \|/

You were there...as always. Taking care of Charles when needed. Cleaning up and keeping him company. You loved to hear his stories, but Charles knew that you wanted to know Logan's stories. So he endulged in the stories of the now Old man Logan, and you just listened to Charles with a smile on your face. You knew if you wanted to ask Logan about his past, he'd just shrug it off and leave you the heck alone, as usual.

Charles....the old tricky man he is, often brings you up to Logan, he wanted to know if there was more to that hate towards us, or it was just simply cause he didn't like you, just tolerated you. But Logan is as stubborn as a kid, he refuses to show any emotion when they talk about you. Even if you're around Logan, he just waves you off or just grunts, as that's how he is communicating most of the time. He is tired, and you can see it, heck even Caliban is worried about him, the Adamantium poisoning is slowly taking its toll on Logan. But as a fool he is, he refuses to ask for help, what a stubborn old man!

You always make sure to wash his clothes, make him food and tend to his injuries if it's necessary, even if he pushes you away. And the worst part is, that you slowly start to fall in love with that stubborn old man. Every time you were around him, the butterflies in your stomach started to slowly fill up your stomach, he often side eyed you for your reaction, he could see the pinkness on your cheeks, but he brushed it off.

"Another client?" You ask as you made your way into the kitchen, seeing Logan by the kitchen table, sitting there, sipping on some already cold coffee. "But it's almost midnight.."

"Well, they don't care about time, bub. And someone has to earn money.." he said rather grumpily. Didn't even look up at him. Like you never existed.

"I am worried about you Logan..." That's it. You finally said it. A flash of surprise plastered on his face, but he shook his head and drank from his cup.

"No need to be worried about me, bub. You should focus on taking care of Charles and to the housework." Jesus he's such a pain in the ass.

"And I am doing it every day."

"Good, only concentrate on that and stop pushing your nose into my business, bub.." he said angrily and put down his cup, it was now empty. You jumped a little bit at his sudden movement but he didn't care about it, just adjusted his dress shirt and put on his jacket, and put his reading glasses into the inside pocket of the jacket. Phone in his hand.

"I am not trying to—" you started to explain.

"Enough, bub!! I'm tired of your constant nagging and caring! I don't need this! I didn't ask for it! Keep your fucken distance and leave me alone!! I'll be home late." With that, Logan grabbed the limo's keys and walked out of the smelting power plant. You were taken aback by his harsh words, like he never ever talked to you like this. Why now? Maybe there was something bothering him? Or you really believed that the problem was actually yourself. You heart ached as you thought about it, the possibility of being the source of his misery, his anger, his annoyance.

After three hours... Three hours passed ever since Logan had left to drive a client. As usual, he was exhausted, the money was great as he got a huge tip and all, but...he was still sad and miserable, but.... something in his heart ached as he saw you on the couch in the little living room he made himself. Tried to make the smelting power plant more home-y, ever since you lived there too. He didn't understand why, but he knew that if he'll act upon these feelings he is buried deep down. He didn't even want to acknowledge it at all, especially after that happened in his life, how he lost everyone he held most dear. How Jean's death still shook him till this day. He promised himself that he'll never feel things like this after her death... But there you were.... Making his heart skip a beat.

He looked down at you, as you slept. His eyes widened as soon as he realized that you were cuddling one of his jackets, his heart....that stupid heart he decided to freeze...started to melt again. Beating faster by the minute he was staring down at you, looked at how your chest fell and rose, how your hair sprawled out on the cushion of the couch. You were perfect, in every way. But he was still stubborn to realize...or at least accept it. He was reluctant to give into the feeling... Jesus he didn't even know what to do now.. So. Out of instinct, held you up in his arms bridal style, your head rested on his chest as he made his way towards your bedroom, his heart was about to burst out of his chest.

He kicked the door open lightly and walked inside of the bedroom and approached your bed, gently laying you down on it. And all he could do was....just stare.... Stare at your sleeping form, how beautiful you looked, how your hair was framing your face, he involuntarily moved his hand and tucked a stray hair behind your ear, your skin was smooth and warm, unlike his ruggedy face and skin. He thought back to the times when you laughed at a bad joke Charles was cracking, the way you took care of both him and Charles. Your heart, your soul... everything was perfect about you. but he was afraid... Afraid of screwing up, afraid of hurting you. But he couldn't resist the temptation. Often imagined what would it be to be together with you, to wake up next to you every morning, to sleep next to you every night, to kiss you, hold you, fuck you. He shook his head, pushing these thoughts aside but sat down on the edge of your bed. He was reluctant to get away, to leave you, especially when he knew that you were on the couch cause you waited for him to come home, every fucken time.

"The things I wanna do to you, bub.." he sighed and stood up from the bed, took one last glance at you and he did it... He couldn't resist. Logan leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your forehead. It was slow and sweet, his heart....his poor heart was accelerating fast, almost giving him a heart attack. He felt so weak...but so right. "Sweet dreams" he murmured and pulled the covers over your body, making sure to tuck you in well cause he knew that you can get cold easily. Then he left, to put some food into his stomach, as he'd never miss your cooking. His thoughts were occupied by you, as always. Waiting for the perfect moment to finally snap and make a move. But when was the perfect moment? He didn't fucken know.

\|/ \|/ \|/ \|/ \|/ \|/ \|/ \|/ \|/

Part 2?

[anjee0]

Week 1 - Decorating

Female!reader x Eminem (Feel free to put in your own oc insert)

Description - Y/n and Marshall decide to decorate the house.

Warnings - no warnings :)

Y/n sat on the couch, feeling all snuggled up in the heaps of blankets that she had wrapped around her. She was at her apartment, trying to adjust to the coldness outside. She sipped the cup of hot cocoa in her hand. The sweetness of the chocolate popped in her tongue as she consumed the thick and luxurious drink. She felt the dollop of whipped cream on top touch the tip of her nose as she reached for another sip. 

Y/n took a look at the simple Christmas tree she had up in the corner of the living room. It wasn’t extravagant and glowing with bright lights and dripping in ornaments. But it wasn’t basic and plain either. It has the right amount of light and colour, enough to give her home a festive touch. She looked out the window and admired the beautiful sunset. The sky was dark blue and decorated with fluffy light blue clouds.

Christmas was around the corner and boy was she happy. This was the first Christmas she was spending with her boyfriend, Marshall. They had been dating for a few months and Y/n absolutely adored him. He was the perfect boyfriend. He was sweet, genuine, caring and charming. He invited her to spend the month of December with her until New Years. The offer shocked her to say the least. Marshall was a private person and to see that he wanted to invite her to his home for a month just showed how much he trusted and cared for his girl.

Her phone started to ring as it buzzed against the wooden table next to her. Y/n set the mug down and peered over her phone. Marshall was calling her. He must’ve been calling to ask if she was ready to come down.

“Hey baby. Everything okay?” Y/n asked.

“Everything’s great. Are you ready? I’m right outside.”

“Yup. I’m ready. I’ll see you there.”

Y/n quickly finished the rest of her hot chocolate and grabbed her bag that was packed with all the essentials she would need for the next month at Marshall’s. She slipped on her trainers and made her way out. As she stepped outside, she saw Marshall’s face in the car that was dimly lit by the main light outside the building. He gave her a loving smile as she got into the passenger seat. 

“Hey baby.” Marshall greeted as he placed a soft kiss on Y/n’s lips. “Got everything? Ready to go?”

“I’m ready. Let’s go.”

Marshall pulled out of the driveway and into the road as he made his way to his mansion. “So, are you excited?” He asked.

“Of course! This is my first Christmas with you, and I can’t wait. Thanks again for doing this.” Y/n replied.

“Of course, sweetheart. I wanna spend my time leading up to Christmas with you.” Marshall sincerely as he placed his hand on Y/n’s thigh.

When they reached the mansion, Y/n took notice of how empty it looked on the outside. There were no lights or decorations of any sort of decorations hung up outside. She wasn’t too shocked, Marshall was a busy man, he wouldn’t have time to decorate. As she entered the house, the sudden warmth engulfed her from the cold wind outside.

“Ooh! It’s so warm in here!” Y/n exclaimed.

“It’s great compared to that heck of a snow storm outside.” Marshall replied as he sat on the couch

“It's not even snowing.” Y/n replied, chuckling lightly and settling next to him. “Don’t you have a Christmas tree?”

“Why should I?”

“For the festive feeling, duh!”

“Well, I’m a busy man in my 50’s who will soon be a grandpa. I don’t have the time or energy for that stuff.”

“You’re such an old man.” Y/n teased as she patted his chest.

“Did you not hear what I just said?” He chuckled. “I used to decorate with the kids but they’re all grown up now and have moved out.”

“So do you still have the decorations with you?”

“They’re somewhere in the attic…”

“We should decorate!” Y/n suggested as she sat up.

“Decorate?”

“Yeah, we can put a tree and some decorations inside. Add some lights outside.”

Marshall furrowed his eyebrows and tilted his head as he hummed deeply in thought.

“Oh come on. We don’t even have to go overboard. We can be minimalistic if that’s what you want.”

“It’s gonna take ages.”

“But it’ll be fun! Please?” Y/n pleaded. She pouted innocently and pulled out her puppy dog eyes.

Marshall sighed and shook his head. “Fine. Let’s do it.”

“Yes! Thank you!” Y/n beamed in excitement as her eyes lit up. She placed a long kiss on Marshall’s cheek as she wrapped her arms around him. “Come on! Let’s go!” She got off the sofa and tried to pull him up.

Marshall chuckled at his girlfriend’s adorable reaction. He’d do anything to make her feel happy. “Don’t you wanna unpack your bag?”

“We can worry about that later. Come on!”

Eventually, Marshall and Y/n were able to get the Christmas tree and bags of ornaments and lights down from the attic. The living room soon became a mess with plastic bags overflowing with tangled lights and baubles rolling around.

“I'm starting to regret this…” Marshall said.

“It's fine. Come on, we can start with the outside first.”

Since their plan was to be simple, they just placed a string of yellow fairy lights around the tree in the front. Marshall placed a light up reindeer by the door and Y/n put up light up candy canes on the side of the pathway leading up to the house.

Marshall and Y/n stepped back to look up at the final result. They both stared in awe at the finished product. It wasn't overboard and the decorations looked perfectly festive.

“See! It looks great. Come on, let's decorate inside.”

After getting inside, they started to set up the Christmas tree. Of course the tree Marshall had was pretty big so it took ages for them to assemble. 

“You don't have instructions?” Y/n asked as she held up two pieces of the tree, trying to put them together.

“Unfortunately, no. We'll just have to get through this ourselves.” Marshall sighed.

Nearly an hour went by of them struggling and squinting and deciding how to put up the tree before they finally finished. It stood tall in the corner of the living room next to the TV. 

“Alright, let's decorate it!”

Y/n and Marshall took out the heaps of tangled up lights from the bag and spent ages just trying to untangle them. When they finished, they put it around the tree and made sure it twisted its way from the top all the way to the bottom. Afterwards, Y/n started to place baubles of different sizes and colours at the front. When she looked around the living room, she realised Marshall was gone.

“Marshall?” She called out.

He came back running with a polaroid camera and flashy smile. “Alright just stand there and pretend you're decorating.” 

“What are you doing?” Y/n asked.

“Capturing memories.” Marshall replied as he brought the camera up to his eye.

“Can't you use your phone for that?”

“This is better. Okay, smile for me baby.”

Y/n couldn't help but crack a smile at Marshall’s command and the pet name. The way he said it just drove her absolutely crazy. Marshall pressed the button as the camera emailed a bright flash. The picture whirred out from the side. He took it off and placed it on the coffee table along with the camera. 

“And while we wait for that to develop, I'll help with the tree.”

The next few minutes were followed by the couple placing ornaments and baubles on the end of the trees. As Y/n took out the next ornament from the bag, she noticed how different it looked from the others. It was made out of paper and had decorations drawn onto it.

“What's this?” She asked.

Marshall gasped and smiled softly as he took the ornament from Y/n. “Hailie made this when she was 6. I'm surprised it's still in shape.”

“It looks great. Let's put it on the tree.” Y/n responded. “We should make our own!”

“Do we have to?” Marshall asked.

“It'll be fun. You only need paper, scissors and markers.”

“Okay fine, I'll get them from my office.”

Marshall came back with sheets of paper, two pairs of scissors and a packet or coloured markers. They both sat down on the floor and started to cut up and decorate their paper ornaments.

“Look, I drew us holding hands on this one.” Y/n chuckled as she held it up.

Marshall smiled softly and looked over at his girlfriend. He was only just realising now how lucky he was to have her. Instead of making a comment about the ornament, he leaned in and pulled Y/n into a tender kiss.

“Thanks, for all of this. I feel like I'm being grumpy about it but I should be appreciating it. I'm lucky I have such an optimistic girlfriend who wants to spend December with me the correct way.” 

“Aw babe, you're not being grumpy at all. I'm glad you're putting up with it.” Y/n placed another soft kiss on his lips as their foreheads touched.

“Alright, you wanna put these up?” Marshall asked.

“Yeah, let's do it. Can I see yours?”

He nodded and revealed his ornament with a cheeky smile. “I also drew us. And a snowman.”

Y/n chuckled softly and placed a kiss on Marshall’s cheek. “It looks great.”

When they finished decorating the tree, Y/n realised they forgot one final thing.

“The star! Do you have the star to put on top?”

“It's somewhere in here, let me see.” Marshall responded as rummaged through the bags. “Aha! Found it.” He pulled out a stunning golden star coated in glitter that shone under the light.

“It looks great. Can you reach the top?”

“Nah. I normally used to put Hailie on my shoulder so she could put it on…”

“Oh.”

“Do you wanna get on my shoulder?”

Y/n laughed at Marshall's joke. “You're funny.” But when she looked over at him, she could see seriousness in his eyes. “Oh, you're being serious?”

“Yeah, I'll put you on my shoulder.”

“You're gonna break it.”

“I'll be fine.”

“Aren't you an old man?”

“I hit the gym everyday. I'll be fine.”

Y/n reluctantly agreed and gave in with a sigh. Marshall placed his arms around her thighs and hoisted her up to his shoulder.

“Am I heavy?” She asked.

“You're good. Don't worry. Alright, put the star on.” Marshall replied.

Y/n held onto Marshall tightly with one hand as she placed the shimmering star on top of the tree with the other with precision and immense caution.

“Alright. You can put me down.” 

After Marshall set Y/n down, they turned the main light in the living room off so they could see the lights on the tree more well. They looked on in admiration as they watched the lights twinkle colourfully and light up the decorations on the tree.

“It looks beautiful.” Y/n said in excitement.

“Sure does.” Marshall replied as he turned the lights back on. “Oh, and here's your photo.” He handed over the developed photo to Y/n. She was smiling brightly at the camera as she placed an ornament on the tree.

“It looks great.” Y/n said.

“But I did forget one last thing.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a mistletoe. It was a beautiful sage green and suited with fake snow. It also had the small cherry tomatoes and was tied with a lacy red ribbon.

“A mistletoe!” Y/n exclaimed.

Marshall smirked as he hung it up above them. He placed his hand on Y/n's waist and captured her lips. Y/n immediately kissed back and placed her hands on his chest. They both leaned into the kiss as it got more passionate.

When they pulled away, Y/n leaned her head on Marshall's chest as he wrapped his arms around her, leaving no distance between them.

[blvk-cpl]

Indulgence

She’s been feeling off all day. Curled up in her blanket, switching between cold and hot sweats, a pounding head and a nauseated belly. The mere thought of food sends her tummy into knots, squelching and squirming from just imagining anything of substance taking up space inside of her instead of the slimy build up of bile and acid that’s currently sloshing about. Okay, maybe she’s more than off. She’s got the stomach flu. No doubt about it. Whispers of the “seasonal bug” going around had started to circle, and a few days later here she is, queasy, sweaty, and constantly stifling wet burps. I notice that she’s been put off of food today, and hardly wants to even sip at the water I constantly try to give her. Her face is sallow, ashen and pale. Her cheeks puff every once in a while when she burps. I quickly catch on to what’s wrong, even though she hasn’t mentioned anything to me yet. She has all the tell-tale signs of the belly bug. As we both know, we’re into that, so, who would I be if I didn’t attempt to indulge in this golden opportunity?

Throughout the day, I’ve been a little over bearing with my encouragement to get food and water into her system. Some crackers here, some rice there. A little heavier with the foods. Maybe some tea. Ramen noodles are bland too. Over time, I’m slowly packing her sickened tummy full of foods that I know aren’t going to digest. She’s begun to bloat significantly, her belly gurgling indignantly at all the slop I’ve forced into it. She’s half way sitting up on the couch, one hand tenderly placed on her bloated tummy. We both listen to the gurgles and sloshes it makes, desperately trying to process the food inside, failing sickly. She’s been burping more frequently, less airy now, more chunky and wet. I could swear she’s gone from her usual paleness to an almost….green complexion.

I’m losing it now. I’ve been teased long enough. I need her. And I need her to be sick, I gently pick her up off of the couch, listening to the quivering churns of digestive distress coming from her tummy due to the sudden motion. I plop her down on the bed, and she burps. Her meals slide up her throat, causing her to swallow thickly and whimper. I make my way on top of her, gingerly kissing along her neck and body so that she’ll relax, tenderly sliding her panties off so that I can get what I want. I indulge myself in her; devouring every last bit as she lays back and whimpers, convulses, and burps. Her tummy is a maelstrom of nausea that’s whipping around in her belly with every whimper, pleasure and queasiness battling for dominance. She’s afraid to moan, as every time her mouth is open, her stomach takes it as an invitation to send her dinner upwards, and she doesn’t know how many times she can keep swallowing it back. Her belly is in full revolt, sloshing, churning, bubbling. I’m using my hands to grip and disturb her belly, further stirring up the nausea that’s bubbling urgently at the entrance to her stomach. She’s on the cusp, and I can feel it. As her legs tighten; so does her stomach. She knows it’s the end, and she can’t stop it. She begins to climax, desperately swallowing and burping as all the unwanted, barely digested foodstuffs start frantically making their way to her mouth. Her cheeks bulge with a wet burp, her eyes darting around in a panic for an exit, but to no avail. Her tummy churns, sending another wave of sick up. She has no choice. She has nowhere to go. She relieves her tummy of the sickly slurry all over my head and face, painting me in her nausea. It comes in thick, chunky waves. Only accompanied by the gurgling protests of her tummy. When she’s finally empty, she gazes at me; a product of her stomachs inability to do its job. She knows I don’t mind. Happily, I take her to the shower and clean her up, telling my sweet girl how good she did, and how much I love it when she’s uncontrollably sick for me. We end the night with new sheets, and belly rubs for her until she slumbers, her tummy bubbling softly, preparing for its next inevitable upheaval.

[taeyeonschild]

《sleeping apart, after a fight || Hyung line ver.》

—————————————————

pairing: hyung line (separate) x reader

genre: fluff, angst. (i think… i don’t actually know what i’m talking about)

contains: literally a copy of the last one 🥶

warnings: uhhhh i don’t think any?

A/N: i feel like i used all my decent ideas on the maknae version. but i’m trying…. OKAY??? 😖

what do i write after this???? this was my only idea 😭😭 oh no.

I AM TAKING REQUESTS!!! GIVE ME IDEAS TO WRITE NEXT PLEASE 🙏🙏🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️

hyung line | maknae line

Bangchan

“I’m gonna spend the night at the dorms tonight. Sleep well, darling.” He grabs his keys and leaves your apartment without another word..

You hadn’t expected this argument to become as large as it had.

All you had wanted was to communicate your needs. you have been feeling neglected recently, as he has spent so much time working, way more than usual. You understand his commitment to his work, to stay, and to the kids, but you just wish he could try to make time for you too.

You didn’t mean for this to become such a huge fight.. But it did, and now you have the apartment to yourself for the night..

It is lonely.

You sob on the living room couch for a while, but eventually, you drag yourself to bed.

Chan’s night isn’t much better than yours…

He spent the whole evening locked in his bedroom at the dorms, ignoring when the kids questioned his sudden arrival. The guilt of the fight eats him away, and he stays up the whole night, regretting the fight.

If he’d have just stopped arguing, and taken taken a deep breath, to try consider your side of the argument, he’d have realized that he has been neglecting you.

Just because it wasn’t intentional doesn’t mean it wasn’t happening…

You have one of the worst sleeps of your life, rolling back and forth, unable to get comfortable in the big, empty, cold bed. You can’t help but feel lonely, and guilty.

Ugh, you’re so sensitive… If you hadn’t have complained about this one little issue, then everything would’ve been fine… why did you do that.

You wake up the next morning, with the same empty, lonely, feeling. You miss your boyfriend even more than you miss him when he’s off at work..

You pick up your phone, and see three missed calls, and a series of texts… all from….. Chan.

“Hey Y/n.”

“I’m sorry about our fight.”

“I wasn’t listening to you at all, and now I’ve thought about your side, and I’ve realized that you are completely correct. I have been distant recently, it’s just been very difficult for me to balance everything in my life, and it’s not fair of me to take that out on you. I really do love you, and I know that I need to do better, to make sure that you know that.”

“You’re not replying, so your probably asleep still.”

“Or you’ve turned your phone off..”

“I’m gonna take the day off, to talk this through with you. I want to fix things”

“Let me know when you wake up, and I’ll come back. I want you to rest as much as you can, so I can come whenever you’re ready.”

Minho

“Oh my god i need to get away from you! I’m spending the night at Hana’s.”

You grab your keys and rush out of the apartment towards your best friend’s place. You just need space, even if it’s only for one night. You need time to arrange your thoughts, and decide what you really want out of this argument.

Minho understands, he knows that you need space, and he will gladly give it to you. But that doesn’t mean he is happy to spend the night alone.

He sits on the couch for a few minutes, unsure of what to do after you’ve left. He sighs, then picks up his phone, and dials your best friend Hana.

You have texted Hana from his phone before, when yours has died, so he has her number saved.

“Hey Hana. Could you let me know when Y/n gets there? I just wanna make sure she’s safe.”

Hana agrees, like the best friend that she is.

He hangs up the phone, and stares up at the ceiling. Even though he misses you already, he is glad to have a moment apart.

This gives you both time to process your thoughts, and next time, you can presume this maturely, and talk it through.

You both have faith that this will be over in the next 24 hours.

He gets a call from Hana a while later.

“Great. I’m glad she’s okay. Tell her I love her for me… and Goodnight. Sleep well, both of you.”

Hana tells you the news, she’d never be one to keep anything from you.

You are thankful to have a boyfriend who, even through his anger, still cares enough to make sure you got to your destination safely.

After a few hours apart, you manage to process this battle, and you put your stubbornness asside, to text him.

“I’m sorry about our fight.”

“I forgive you, I hope you can forgive me.”

“We can talk about the issue later, and resolve it together, if you are ready.”

“I love you too”

By the time you get back home in the morning, he is already sitting at the dining table, ready to talk with you, and ready to fix everything that you had both screwed up the night before.

Changbin

“Sleep on the couch. I want you away from me” you say, spitting venom from your teeth. You throw a pillow and blanket at him, before you turn around and poop yourself down on the bed, and turn away from him.

“Uh, but I-“

You turn to see him again, the blades shooting from your eyes shut him up easily, and he nods, before leaving you alone in the bedroom.

You are mad, but not only at him. You’re whole day has been pretty bad, and you just need a break. It’s been one of those days, when you wake up sweaty, you’re out of shampoo, you stub your toe on the coffee table, you drop your breakfast, and all of your coworkers are angry. Your argument with Changbin didn’t make any of this better.

He understands that you need a moment to breathe, but he also doesn’t want to go to sleep like this.

He takes a seat on the couch, but doesn’t bother to set up a bed there. He knows that he’s not actually gonna be spending the night on the couch.

You regret snapping, but you’re stuck sitting on the edge of the bed. Apologizing is too much for you, in your current state.

When enough time has passed, Changbin decides you’ve probably cooled down, he walks back into the bedroom.

Immediately, he is spotted by the door, but the look on your face isn’t nearly as harsh as before. Maybe there’s even a tinge of regret in your gaze.

“Hi jagi. I know you’re mad at me. I’m a little mad too.. But I think, we can solve this in a better way.”

“Can we talk this out? If not, we can just take opposite sides of the bed, and we can discuss this in the morning? What would you rather jagiya?”

His face instantly turns to that of concern and worry when he notices a tear falling down your cheek. He understands.

You spend the rest of the night cuddling in bed, ranting about your whole day, and you both completely forget about the entire argument.

The only reminder in the morning, is the pillow and blanket on the floor beside the couch, which tells you that Changbin never intended on listening to you in the first place.

Hyunjin

You are tired. It is late. Way to late to be arguing about something so trivial.

You quietly pick up your pillow, and make your way into the living room with no other words.

Hyunjin watches as you leave, stunned by your sudden action, but also saddened. He takes a deep breath before calling after you.

“Y/nnnnnnn!!”

He calls, in his whiny voice, which usually you find cute, but now it only irks you further.

He sits in silence for a moment, considering his next move, before slowly getting off the bed, and walking to the living room.

“Y/n… I’m- I’m sorry… please, I don’t want to fight with you. Can we talk this out?”

It is way too late to talk. You are tired, and all you have the energy for, is sleep. You ignore his begging, and close your eyes.

He crouched infront of you, and gently strokes your hair.

“Y/n… please look at me darling. I’m sorry… I never meant to hurt you. I don’t want this argument to end with you sleeping on the couch. Can we talk this out?”

Tears fall down his cheeks, he’s always had a flare for the dramatics.

“I’m tired Jinnie.” you put all of your energy into three words.

“Y/n, I know you’re tired… I know I messed up… and I know this isn’t easy for us. but… can we please not go to sleep like this? please… I don’t want us to end the day like this…”

You roll over to face him, your heart breaks at the sight of him. He’s clearly messed up about this.

“I don’t have the energy to figure this out right now” You speak gently, trying your hardest not to upset the poor boy any further.

You carefully move your fingers up his cheeks, and wipe away the tears, pretending that you don’t also have tears soaking onto your pillow.

“that’s okay… we don’t have to. But the thought of you sleeping in the living room breaks my heart… can we just… I don’t know… hold onto eachother tonight?”

That’s exactly what you do… you climb off of the couch, as he leads you back to bed. You spend the night with your limbs tangled together, as if you hadn’t been in a yelling match just an hour beforehand.

But one thing about being in a relationship with Hyunjin, is that he is impossible to stay angry at.