#but this is the one that currently has ACTUAL STORY behind it

[babyleostuff]

˚ ༘♡ 𝐧𝐚𝐢𝐥 𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐬/𝐨

― which members would be interested in watching their partner do their nail art/ ask questions and try to be involved in the process bc they're genuinely interested

joshua

because shua enjoys arts and crafts himself, he’s so so happy whenever he can watch you do your nails - it’s alway so much fun. actually, the second you say you need to do your nails, it’s joshua that drags you to the table and sits you on the chair and puts all of your tools, nail polishes, uv lamps in front of you. watching you do all of those crazy nail arts, there’s something soothing about it. and it never gets boring for you either, with joshua by your side - he will ask you about all of the details of why’s and how’s.

wonwoo

you could be doing or talking about whatever and wonwoo would still sit there and listen to you like a hypnotised man. bro is a simp and though usually he couldn't care less about nails and doing art on them or whatever, because it's YOU he’ll sit his ass down and watch every step of you doing your nails like it’s the most fascinating thing ever. wonwoo will ask about your nail polishes and why you have to apply this before that etc etc, not because he feels obligated to fill in the silence but because he’s genuinely interested. he loves listening to you talk about a subject that you’re so fond of. 

dk

please let him pick your nail polish colour!!! seokmin gets so giddy when you tell him that you have to do your nails, because that means he’ll get to spend at least three hours watching you and you won’t be able to do anything about it. he’s like a child that has to touch and ask about everything, so it’s kind of like entertaining a child, but you never mind him being so genuinely happy about you and your nail art. it’s cute how dk gets confused by certain steps, or why you have to do something this particular way etc. and he spends at least fifteen minutes after you finish, gushing about the beautiful designs you painted. 

mingyu

is he a six foot two giant or a princess? i guess the latter since he adores watching you do your nails so much and every time you do, gyu wants you to paint his nails too, at least one, but is too shy to ask. he always has to touch everything that’s laying on the table, so while you’re prepping your nails, he’s rummaging through all of your tools and asks what each of them is for. mingyu also gets so excited when you ask him if he could pass you *insert a nail tool* and he has to guess which one you’re talking about. 

minghao

i think it’s mainly because hao has done his nails before himself, he’d be eager to hear why you chose a certain design or why you put those particular charms on, you know - he likes knowing the reason behind something. and there’s something quite intimate about nails and nail art, he thinks, so getting to know the story behind your current set would be something very xu minghao.

seungkwan

one thing about seungkwan is that he loves being part of whatever you’re currently doing and making it the best time you’ve ever had. he lives for quality time with you, so it’s not a shocker that he enjoys watching you do your nails very much + a lot of the time he steals your nail polish and does his own nails at the same time you’re doing yours. you always have a blast laughing at his bad designs, and how he always manages to spill the nail polish over his cuticles and edges. boo gets so happy when you ask him about his thoughts on nail polish colours or which charms you should pick out and where to place them. no one could make doing nails as entertaining as boo seungkwan. 

vernon

vernon finds it so cool how you’re able to do all of these designs on your freaking nails of all places. he loves sitting by your side, not saying much in his vernon fashion, and following your every move from the beginning, when you prep your nail, to the moment when you’re attaching different charms or doing cool designs. it’s kind of hypnotising for vernon and he’s always able to relax and wind down when watching you do your nails. 

dino

are you kidding me? baby wants to be a part of everything you do. he is a puppy that follows your every step, so of course he loves watching you do your nails. it’s unbelievable to him how you’re able to paint on your nails AND make pretty designs on them and not just splotches of nail polish. he always talks your ear off about what tool does what, and why you do that before doing the other thing, etc etc, but gosh… it’s so endearing when he sits there with his sparkly eyes, looking at you like you’re the coolest person on earth   

taglist (if you want to be added, check my masterlist): @jeonghansshitester @weird-bookworm @sea-moon-star @hanniehaee @wonwooz1 @byprettymar @edgaralienpoe @staranghae @itza-meee @eightlightstar @immabecreepin @whatsgyud @hyneyedfiz @honestlydopetree @vicehectic @dkswife @uniq-tastic @marisblogg @aaniag @daegutowns @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @embrace-themagic @ohmyhuenings @nidda13 @hrts4hanniehae @k-drama-adict @isabellah29 @f4iryjjosh @bangantokchy @mrswonwooo @bangtancultsposts @lllucere @athanasiasakura @onlyyjeonghan @haecien @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @hannahhbahng @valgracia @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @mirxzii @hhusbuds @wonranghaeee @rosiesauriostuff @gyuguys @tomodachiii @veryfabday @lilmochiandsuga @asasilentreader @mrsnervous @bewoyewo @sharonxdevi @wondipity @gyuguys @raginghellfire @treehouse-mouse @waldau @wonootnoot @hellodefthings @dokyeomkyeom @sourkimchi @bbysnw @hoichi02 @aaa-sia @haneulparadx @minvrsev @zozojella @wonootnoot @kimingyuslover @wntrei @honglynights @jihoonsbbygirl @uhdrienne @bloodcanbehot  @iamawkwardandshy  @icyminghao @heeseungthel0ml @goyangiiwonu @bath1lda @ruurooozz @ny0sang @luuxian @onerubii  @hurrican3-insert-nam3 @mekuiikore @luvseungcheol @thenotoriousegg @yuuyeonie @svtficsarchive @hyperdramas @huen1ngk41 @lesuneczka @oc3anfloor @gyuguys @fr-freak @bewoyewo

[grumfield]

There’s a lot more to be said about this but when I was getting my master’s in media studies I focused a lot on children’s media and shit man, the state of older children’s/middle grade media is so abysmal right now it’s not even funny. There’s a lot of blame going to the Usual Suspects for why kids ages 9-12 don’t read as much but little actual attention as to how tonally transitional stories are a dying breed for the current generation of children so cut off interest in reading. The culture is essentially creating the media equivalent of not letting your kids outside to play because you’re afraid of strangers and getting mad when the kid spends all their time online.

Kids “read up” by about 3 years, meaning that a 9 year old generally wants to read books about 12 year olds, and so on and so forth. It relates to aspirational maturity and personal freedom—a lot of books with 12 year old protagonists follow characters being independent, which a 9 year old is just starting to feel they want, and are interested in exploring the dangers and themes associated with that. Percy Jackson deals with the dangers of being on the road alone, Warrior Cats is all about interpersonal politics and violence that’s easily digestible because it’s wrapped in a nice talking-animal bow.

Basically right now, if we just went off the current releases, kids are expected to go from watching Toy Story to watching adult movies with very little in-between to ease them into either, leaving this gap for when parents think a PG-13 movie is too adult while the kids feel that Toy Story is too babyish…so kids stop interacting with the narrative media and find things where they feel they’re “reading up”, which is usually found in social media spaces. No one wants to be condescended to, and the state of contemporary media has the potential to feel that way.

Media powerhouses aren’t making Secret of Nimh or Watership Down anymore, and the MG fiction scene is generally focused on family narratives skewed towards younger audiences. The film and publishing industry both do suffer from adults demanding that the stories they grew up with as kids follow them into adulthood, just exacerbating this cavernous gap. Lots of YA books feature college age protagonists now because many YA readers are adults who want “more from YA” but don’t want to read adult books because they’re afraid they’ll be boring, and as a result the subcategory has been skewing up in age. If people demand that Star Wars “get serious about the realities of war”, for the adults who grew up with the franchise, the kids are left behind behind because the subject matter gets out of their scope.

I think this has something to do with the sanitization of fiction and general cultural preoccupation with “protecting kids” from dark themes. Anyways. There’s more to be said about this I can’t articulate but people really are surprised pikachu face about kids not reading when there’s nothing they want to read.

Kids playing with Barbie dolls are often not paying Barbie goes to the mall.

[homestuckreplay]

A Hole in the ACE: Anderson, Caveney, Egbert

[This is a deep dive into the pages of Harry Anderson: Wise Guy by Mike Caveney, seen on Homestuck pages 629-630, and its role in the story. About 2.5k words, somehow. A transcript of these pages can be found here.]

=> Read book. Be the wise guy.

Harry Anderson, born in 1952, was a real magician and comedian who achieved mainstream television success in the 1980s and 90s with starring roles in sitcoms and appearances on Saturday Night Live. A street magician since his youth, he continued to tour and perform magic shows well into the 2000s, and opened both a magic shop and a nightclub in New Orleans with his second wife. Wise Guy is the name of a one-man show he presented in his own nightclub beginning in 2005, although he may have used the phrase earlier.

Mike Caveney, born in 1950, has similarly been a magic enthusiast since childhood. As well as performing, he has written over 50 books about magic and its history, including Magic, 1400s-1950s (2009) and of course Harry Anderson: Wise Guy (1993). This is a real book documenting the secrets behind Anderson’s most famous tricks, interspersed with personal anecdotes. John Egbert is lucky to own this – it’s currently out of print, and secondhand editions sell for over $100.

In my attempts to find an online copy of Wise Guy, I found a PDF that billed itself as the book’s introduction, but quickly devolved into a plot summary of Stephen King’s IT. While clearly not the actual introduction, I later learned that Anderson played Richie Tozier in the 1990 television adaptation of IT, which at least explains the connection.

Unfortunately, very little of Wise Guy’s text is available online. One excerpt survives, and accompanies several online publishers’ listings for the book – for example, here. This excerpt describes Harry’s trick ‘The Finger Chopper,’ with his early-career assistant who happened to be missing half a finger. I am almost certain that Andrew Hussie doesn’t own a copy of this book, but that they found this real excerpt, and used it to write their own entirely fake pages for Homestuck.

Some specific phrases appear in both the real excerpt and the Homestuck pages: ‘Here is a perfect example of how Harry could…’ ‘the close up room at the Magic Castle’ and even the full paragraph ‘[he] had one of those little wooden finger choppers that Micky Hades used to sell. The kind where the blade could be removed and clearly shown. It was a very convincing little guillotine that did not look like a novelty store toy. Harry would get a guy to examine the chopper and then cut a cigarette in half. Then he held the guy’s hand up and told this silly story.’

The Magic Castle is a famous performance venue that Anderson really performed at, however it's located in Los Angeles, not New Orleans as the Homestuck version suggests.. Micky Hades is another magician 25 years Anderson and Caveney’s senior, best known for writing and publishing books and magazines on magic. An unverified primary source says that he invented the Finger Chopper while working deep underground in the freezing cold Yellowknife gold mines, which is definitely cool if true.

The rest of what's in Homestuck is invented. In Caveney’s book, Anderson’s trick is successful, no audience members are harmed, and Anderson is presented as a charismatic entertainer in control of the crowd. In Hussie’s version, Anderson’s trick goes horribly wrong, and is presented as overconfident, unpleasant, and ridiculous. There’s a flip back and forth from praising and criticizing Anderson, painting he and Caveney as jilted former business partners who maintain professional respect, or toxic ex-lovers who can’t let each other go.

Hussie also refers to a ‘two foot, six inch height differential’ between Anderson and Caveney, with Anderson implied as the shorter party. Anderson was 6’4”, and while I can’t find a source for Caveney’s height, I think it would have been well documented if Caveney was almost nine feet tall.

Hussie’s version states that once Anderson’s finger chopper trick was successful, he achieved ‘fame, fortune and the crowning position in the television judiciary.’ This refers to his starring role on the sitcom Night Court as Judge Harold T. ‘Harry’ Stone, a 34-year-old night court judge appointed to the bench when none of the other applicants were available to answer their phones. Harry’s methods in the show are unorthodox, including flipping a (secretly double-headed) coin to decide if a woman should go to jail, suggesting in 1984 that the three members of a love triangle try polyamory, and giving a man dressed as Santa information from two teenagers’ government records so that ‘Santa’ could trick the teens into believing in him.

I’d never heard of this show before reading Homestuck, and neither has Rose Lalonde, but John mentions it on p.636. The show appears fairly well received during its original run, winning eight Primetime Emmys, including four consecutive Best Supporting Actor wins for John Larroquette (who withdrew his name from the ballot for future years). I watched a few episodes before making this post and thought the pilot was really great, with subsequent episodes either not living up to its promises, or already feeling stale. It’s over-acted in a way that makes it feel older than its airdate, and definitely tracks as a cheesy thing for John Egbert to enjoy.

The other name mentioned in Hussie’s edition – Blind Willie ‘Buttermilk’ Stubbs – is not a real person, but a legendary jazz musician from Problem Sleuth. This is most likely a reference to the real 1900s blues musician Blind Willie McTell, or the Bob Dylan song of the same name. However, there’s an outside chance it could be another Stephen King connection, as he has a 1994 novella named Blind Willie.

The second trick described in Homestuck, ‘A Hole in the Ace,’ doesn’t appear to be a real Anderson trick. It’s not on this list of the book’s chapter titles, and while I have found evidence of Anderson tearing up cards as part of tricks, I couldn’t find anything about him punching holes. In general this second page is more artistic license and less connected to Anderson’s real life than the first. It seems like this hole-punch trick was invented by Hussie purely to give John the inspiration to advance his alchemy. Narratively this works really well, because John’s not somebody who would come to these ideas by careful thought, but it’s also not satisfying to have Rose always give him the answers.

We’ve seen another Harry Anderson property in John’s room – the fictional video game Call My Bluff, seen on the CD rack (p.31). Although Anderson never had a show named Call My Bluff, in 2000 he hosted an unsold pilot episode of What’s My Line? for Mark Goodson and Bill Todman. Goodson & Todman were famous for creating a variety of TV game shows, including 1965’s Call My Bluff. Is this a coincidence? I genuinely couldn’t tell you.

I really love what Hussie has done with this book. I’d say this qualifies as a transformative work – taking the real text and premise of Wise Guy and mixing it with established MSPA lore, mimicking Caveney’s original writing style while using it to paint a far more absurd picture of Anderson, using it to advance the plot while still feeling like this book could really exist, at least in the Homestuck universe. It shows how much work gets put into Homestuck, even while some plot elements (possibly even John’s decision to read the book) are decided by readers.

=> Read Colonel Sassacre’s text.

Wise Guy is only one of John’s two favorite books. The other of course is Colonel Sassacre’s Daunting Text of Magical Frivolity and Practical Japery, and we’ve now seen inside both. They’re fairly different overall. Sassacre’s is a lot more overwrought and soaked in Southern stereotypes, written like it’s trying to squeeze in as many old-timey Southern words as possible, while Wise Guy focuses on telling a story and creating a character. Both texts lean into some grosser imagery than Homestuck usually goes for, with Sassacre’s describing ‘wriggling regency of rubber bugs, plastic parasites, squirming serpents, pliable pests…’ and Wise Guy mentioning ‘a bloody sausage sized piece of a guy’.

The most direct link between the texts is the uncommon phrase ‘listless octoroon,’ which appears in both. Used in the mid to late 1800s, an octoroon was a social and sometimes legal word for somebody who was one-eighth Black. It’s an offensive term that definitely should not be used to describe a real person, and I don’t think it’s funny in fiction either. It reads like another example of ‘post-racial humor’ where Hussie, a white author, uses Blackness as a joke due to a mistaken belief that racism is a thing of the past. This isn’t the first time this specific brand of humor has appeared in Homestuck, and it’s worrying that it’s becoming a pattern.

Sassacre’s, the ‘family tome of humor’ passed down through Egbert generations, focuses on pranking friends and family members, taking those around you by surprise. Wise Guy, which appears to be John’s own interest, is about performing tricks for an audience – both descriptions of the trick and of the mannerisms surrounding the trick that make it successful, leaning into the draw of the professional magician and the cautionary tale of their failures.

Colonel Sassacre’s relevance to Homestuck has so far been as a physical object. It’s what killed Nanna in her human life, it’s been a heavy item in John’s sylladex that he’s used to set off smoke pellets and slay an imp, it was teased as a Tier 2 sprite prototype, and it was found hidden inside Dad’s safe. In contrast, Wise Guy’s relevance has been about the text inside the book, and John’s interpretation of that text.

Which of course makes me wonder about other books we’ve seen in the story. Data Structures for Assholes, the second book of John’s that’s about A-holes, is clearly written to be so over-the-top it becomes funny (like Sassacre’s) but is used for the same purpose as Wise Guy, teaching John a new game mechanic that helps him advance his own story. Other books we’ve seen but haven’t opened are The Fatherly Gent’s Shaving Almanac, found in Dad’s safe, and the writing journals Rose keeps under her bed. Finally, we’ve seen inside Rose’s Grimoire for Summoning the Zoologically Dubious, however as this book is written in the eldritch tongue, it’s hard to offer meaningful insights.

All of these books have been highlighted when they appear, and are more than just a spine among a bookshelf collection. My guess is that all of these will become relevant to the story at some point, whether as objects or as texts.

=> John: Punch card.

Wise Guy first appeared on p.8 of Homestuck, as part of the contents of John’s MAGIC CHEST (now and forever on the roof), which also contains a picture of Anderson stuck to the inside of the lid. John being an ‘aspiring AMATEUR MAGICIAN’ came up even earlier, on p.4. John claims to love this book, which is ‘one of [his] favorite books of all time’ (p.123), but in truth he only likes specific aspects of the book. In real life, Caveney had great respect for Anderson and wrote his book as a tribute, but this isn’t true in Homestuck – Caveney’s ‘ambivalent attitude toward your favorite magician in these anecdotes always struck [John] as a little weird,’ suggesting that John doesn’t enjoy criticism of his heroes and doesn’t want to engage with the more complex and emotional parts of the text.

John ‘mostly like[s] to look at the diagrams for all the cool tricks.’ Given his aspirations, it makes sense that he’d use it as a manual similar to Sassacre’s instead of a biography – but he’s not reading the book as the author intended. If he did, he’d like it less. In most webcomics, any text is contained within the panels themselves, and any blocks of text below are commentary that isn’t necessary to enjoy the joke or story. MSPA is fairly unique in having narrative text that’s story critical, and I wonder if there are some Homestuck readers who just look at the pictures and think the text is ‘weird’ or extraneous. John’s method of reading Wise Guy fits with the fact that he flits from one thing to another, giving up quickly when something is too much effort, whether that’s hole punching through several cards at once or reading stories that are critical of his hero and hard to understand – but it could also be meta-commentary on readers of Homestuck.

John’s relationship to magic, both past and present, is something I’d really like to see explored in more depth. Now that he has unlimited captchalogue cards and engages with them as physical objects, the possibilities for card tricks are off the charts – and the reasons John likes magic aren't yet known. A magician is a showman, somebody who surprises and delights an audience, but can only do this by concealing much of what they’re doing. A magician has to be a master of their craft and in control of the situation both socially and technically. Magic is believed to be among the oldest performing arts, and while magicians are often thought to be secretive about their tricks, Wise Guy is just one of a huge number of books containing detailed instructions for magic.

John's not usually the character we'd expect to want an air of mystery around himself, but he often tries to hide his emotions, with various degrees of success. He also likes the idea of coding, which is a type of magic - producing an effect (a website) while concealing the methods (lines of code) that went into it. There's not much he's good at yet, but he has the manual dexterity to play piano well, which could translate into sleight of hand tricks. I can see why, as someone who struggles with basically everything, John likes the idea of having a high degree of mastery over something and of making it look effortless. I also see how someone who feels like they're always performing their role in the world, instead of actually embodying it, would gravitate towards being another kind of performer. However, that's just some initial instincts, and as I keep reading and re-reading I'll be on the lookout for more connections between John and stage magic.

Additionally, John now has access to real and powerful magic via alchemy. This is magic that can’t fully be explained by sleight of hand and diagrams in a book, and it’s magic that can provide a shortcut to achieving goals, conjuration instead of illusion. Now that John has this power, will he become disillusioned with the artifice of practical magic, or will he lean into it even harder? Will there continue to be connections between alchemy and the tricks John already knows? Instead of always putting that bunny back in the box, will he start pulling that bunny out of the hat?

Finally, it is surprising that John’s never talked to Rose about Harry Anderson before. Given the depths of his interest, I’d expect it to have come up, but Rose is clueless. When explaining who he is, John says ‘EB: he's awesome EB: that's really all there is to say on the matter!’ which directly calls back to what Dave has said about puppets on p.537. In Dave’s case, he’s trying to convince himself he thinks this, but it’s clear he actually doesn’t. Is it possible that deep down, John actually doesn’t like Harry Anderson? Is magic too close to Egbert family traditions of clowning for John to really feel good exploring it? Is John’s greatest trick of all convincing us that he loves magic?

[lisxdumbr]

The whole "if a person is mad at you it's their responsibility to tell you" thing just made me realize how fucked my situation is. Like just. woah

[thatgirlonstage]

Yeah yeah “show don’t tell” get mis-explained and misinterpreted as writing advice a lot and yeah sometimes you SHOULD be telling the reader things however I am unwilling to discard this particular phrase given the number of stories I have encountered that make me want to slap the author across the face with it

[homosexualcitron]

Sometimes i'm like omg i can't make fantasy world that is sooo inspired by reunionese culture, that's not the point of fantasy :(( then i remember that europeans just do that.. and nobody cares so why me

[shidoukanae]

I would like to make an addendum to this piece with the new chapter out and say that I was wrong about Phillip, he's great, 10/10 he went from being a giant red flag of a character to being genuinely relatable and man do i feel bad about side-eyeing him for that line he said last chapter

Also this chapter finally wrapped up another plot thread I was waiting for it to return to and waaaaaah seeing someone else's POV on Helene is so nice (and we finally got another flashback of OG Helene for like,, the first time in literally forever). Helene being called out as a lonely person who hides her kind feelings behind a cold expression...man suddenly my fondness for Helene is increasing thousandfold

Like literally how the fuck does this manga keep making Helene better and better there's literally nothing disappointing about her character and im STILL shook about it

[creatingblackcharacters]

“That One Hairstyle? RETIRE IT!” Black Hair is an Art (pt.1)

(This is part one of two lessons, with this one focusing on how our hair itself! The next lesson will encompass how to incorporate its existence into your writing. It'd be a massively long post otherwise.)

So! Black hair. Black hair is a CENTRAL, ESSENTIAL part of our culture and identity. Writing and drawing it means understanding the vulnerability and trust that comes with access to it, and yes, it is racist to suggest that ‘it’s just hair’ when our hair serves such an important role in our history and art. I already wrote a mini-lesson and ask on the topic, but being aware of what our hair looks like, and what means to us, will help you to understand why we care that you put in the effort to get it right.

Hair Textures

We are not a genetic monolith! However, for the sake of this series, we are focusing on 3C-4C, because 1) it's most likely to be seen in life and 2) least likely to be seen in popular art! When you are creating your characters, consider the style and care for THESE textures. I will get more into this next lesson.

Let's get into SOME of the hairstyles!

Afros (36 Afro Hairstyles)

“So, what’s the phenomenon behind the Afro? Well, it’s our hair in its most natural form, but that’s only part of the phenomenon. It’s a way to fight the status quo without saying a word.”

-Ebony Magazine, The History of the Afro

When nonBlack society hears ‘afro’, they think completely picked out, Black power imagery, political statement. And it was, and is! But in actuality, afros are just the natural hair growing out of a Black person's head. The same way your hair grows out of your head. Our texture. Even my hair is not allowed to be ‘hair’, it has to ‘assign’ my Blackness; my distance from whiteness. Imagine, the hair growing out of your head being automatically associated with how you should be perceived. Just by existing, it is making a statement in a Eurocentric society.

Braids (31 Braid Styles)

There are SO MANY TYPES of braids and ways to wear them. If you can imagine a design, I bet there's a Black braider that can do it!

CORNROWS ARE NOT AUTOMATICALLY BRAIDS! Internalize this! They may be used in the same style, but they are NOT INTERCHANGEABLE TERMS!

Braids are considered a protective style; that is, a hairstyle designed to let our hair 'rest' and grow without having to manipulate it. If you have a Black character that's constantly on the go and/or doesn't have time to focus on their hair, and you want an accurate, more true-to-life experience for them, braids can be a crucial part of character design.

Locs

(Yes, while that link has plenty of examples, it was also self-indulgent. Locs are gorgeous, Black men with locs are gorgeous!)

"Locs vs Dreads": As someone in the loc community, there’s been a push to refer to the style as ‘locs’, rather than ‘dreadlocks’. Some people with the style will not care, but others take it very seriously, so it’s something to keep in mind. There’s a societal stigma behind having locs, that they’re ‘dirty’ or ‘unkempt’ or ‘lazy’ and that is NOT true. Locs are beautiful, and they take far more effort than people seem to want to believe lmao.

Locs, though there is currently a positive revival, are still highly discriminated against. Kids have been expelled from school and even have had their hair forcibly cut off to be allowed to participate in sports. Many places won't hire you if they think your hair is 'unprofessional' or 'dirty', especially if you're a Black woman. To consider yet another example of the hair that grows out of my head 'dirty' is extremely racist.

LOCS ARE NOT BRAIDS!!!!

Locs are also a protective style, albeit a much more permanent one, and one that comes with a long history and culture behind it. Many Black people consider the biblical story of Samson to be a man with locs, and that our locs hold power within them. That not just anyone should be allowed to touch your locs. So, if you're interested in mythology and powers, that might be an intriguing way to go, that would be possible if you had a Black character with locs!

In Professional Media

The lack of awareness and concern about our hair isn't just a fan or amateur creator experience. It is ubiquitous in the professional media world. Black actors, actresses, and models have discussed having to do their own hair when working, because no one would properly care for it on set if it wasn't familiarly white. It’s admittedly grown better- however! After decades of not having options other than ‘stereotypical afro’, ‘box cut’, and ‘white people hair’, it is LONG PAST TIME to stop settling for the bare minimum in Black character design. We can tell when "one of us" (with some sense, at least) wasn't in the room to make decisions in popular media.

If you were curious about the lesson title, here's a current example of what I'm talking about in video games. Tell me if you see a pattern:

This style? The Killmonger? We seent it!!!! It has become the “hairstyle to show I understand the exaggerated swagger of a young Black teen” option, the "I know the Black people!" go-to, and frankly, we are all tired of it. Okay it was cute on Ekko. The Black Delegation DEMANDS the professional video game industry pick something else! We have SO MANY DIFFERENT HAIRSTYLES!

I'll give you an example on the other end (not trying at all; refer to Lesson 1) from one of my favorite games, Hades:

This is my blorbo. My favoritest guy. I’ll fight for Patroclus being Black til the day I die. While I begrudgingly settled in my excitement, I can tell you no one Black with any voting power was in the room at Supergiant when they approved this design. Why? His texture! Locs were such an easy option if they wanted long hair! Locs existed BEFORE Ancient Greece! The man did not have a flat iron while fighting in a war! A good Black designer would have considered that!

To give him a more accurate design, some artists (myself included) lean into giving him locs (one of my favorites is @karshmallow 's Pat; a phenomenal example in caring about your Black characters). It’s something Black fans find themselves doing- redesigning Black characters. That's not something we should have to do at all, especially in media we pay for!

But if you REALLY want your Black character to have straight hair, that leads into the last style of this lesson:

Straight Hair

We do have straight hair. But it’s not straight because it grew out that way! It will still look and be thicker! It might be a wig or a sew-in (human or synthetic), it might be flat-ironed (while relaxed? While natural?) It takes effort to get and maintain straight hair.

'I think it looks better good this way!'

If you catch yourself thinking this, this is a racist statement. Whether you’re aware of it our not, there is a bias towards Eurocentric/white features in our society, and that includes in our media. When you think “I only drew [this Eurocentric hair texture and style] because I think it looks good on them!” I want you to PAUSE and think about the WHY. WHY do you think that this Black person’s natural features are unattractive in comparison to the white hair texture you gave them? And how hurt might a Black peer of yours would feel hearing that you find their natural features not worth drawing because they’re “not attractive”. It requires approaching your own internal biases, recognizing them, and then working to unlearn them. And that means practice! Using references to draw our hair and styles, and growing used to using OUR features on US!

Doing it in Art

Me personally, I think if you think drawing thinner hair textures is easy, thicker hair textures should be a BREEZE. I was curious, so I challenged myself and-

(it took me about thirteen minutes total to do ol boy's hair and it's still not right. I'm sick fr y'all don't even know 🤢)

@ackee has a really good art lesson on the how-tos of drawing Black hairstyles. I highly recommend checking it out, as well as following and supporting a fellow Black artist (who is far better than I!)

Hair Brushes

Finally, an option you can use for painting is downloading Black hair brushes! Vegalia has an amazing array of brushes with different types of curls, locs, and braids at her Etsy store! You can also follow her on social media to see how she applies them, and support yet another amazing Black creative!

I know this was a long one, but you made it! Just keep going. Remember, it's the thought that counts, but the action that delivers!

[zorobff]

how to disappear. (opla!zoro x fem!reader)

synopsis: joining luffy’s crew made you believe that you’d finally escaped your former pirate crew and nightmare of a captain for good. that is, until a certain butler starts looking a little too familiar. good thing zoro’s keeping a close eye on you.

warnings: opla spoilers (ep 3), some direct dialogue from opla, mentions of verbal/physical abuse, kuro is just a weirdo tbh, reader is called a bitch, protective zoro, for the sake of the story sham and buchie joined the black cat pirates after reader left

word count: 4.7k

“this guy is full of shit.”

you knock your shoulder into zoro’s wider one. “be nice. and so what if he is?” 

zoro gives you a pointed glare. “then we should turn around and look for someone who can actually help us find a ship.” 

“all business, as per usual,” you reply, with a purposefully dramatic sigh. “why can’t you have a little fun?” 

“what about this is supposed to be fun?” zoro spits out the word like it’s poisonous. “this is the blandest village i’ve ever seen.”

you scoff. “now you’re the one that’s full of shit. nothing’s ever bland with us and you know it.” 

the us in question was your newly formed pirate crew… if you and luffy could even be considered that. having left the ship you’d been on a few years ago, you were in search of a new crew. luffy was persistent and charming — when you’d crossed paths in shells town, it took little to no time for him to convince you to join his hunt for the one piece. zoro and nami, on the other hand, had yet to follow in your footsteps. 

“well, considering that we’ve only been traveling together for a day and a half and i’ve already escaped a marine base, defeated a marine captain, and fought a clown with devil fruit powers… i’d actually have to agree.” 

you can’t help but giggle at his sarcastic delivery. “be grateful, zoro. not many pirate crews are this fun to be on, trust me. oh wait, that’s right, you still haven’t officially joined—”

“tell me about your old pirate crew,” interjects zoro, your comment having piqued his interest. 

you notice that the playful atmosphere dissipates. “god, where do i even start?” 

zoro answers that for you. “why did you leave?”

“starting with the hard hitting questions, huh?” you joke, mostly to stall. you clear your throat before you answer. “well, it was different. nothing like what luffy has going on. he actually cares about his crew… and even those who aren’t technically on it.” 

at that, a smile tugs at the corner of zoro’s lips. even you crack a small grin. although as you continue speaking, it fades. 

“on my old crew, we were dispensable. anytime something went wrong, our own captain would threaten to kill us. it was… scary, to be completely honest. there were so many times when i thought i’d die with that filthy crew. and i never wanted that. so as soon as we docked at shells town, i left.”  

zoro’s jaw clenches as imagines the things you’d seen and been subjected to. “this old captain of yours sounds like a real—”

“he was a nightmare,” you tell him. “he didn’t care that i was the only woman on board, he treated me just as horribly, if not worse.” 

zoro stops so suddenly that it takes you a second to realize he’s not walking alongside you.

“what do you mean by that.” the way zoro phrases the inquiry doesn’t even make it sound like a question. more like a demand. his narrowed eyes are fixed solely on you. holding his gaze feels… intense. 

you can’t help but glance away as you answer him. “he was just a bit of a creep.”

before zoro has the chance to try and extract more information out of you, a familiar voice calls both your names. you’re not really sure when you and zoro had fallen behind but from where you currently stand, the rest of your group looks miniature. or perhaps it’s just the massive size of the mansion behind them that makes luffy, nami, and usopp look pocket-sized in comparison. 

“why’d you stop walking?!” your captain shouts, hands pressed on each side of his mouth to amplify his voice. “get over here, we’re about to go in through the top secret entrance!” 

you vaguely make out usopp gesturing for luffy to keep his voice down. you’re sure that would warrant another comment from zoro about his reliability but he’s too busy staring at you with that expectant look in his eyes. 

“we better catch up,” you tell him, heading in the direction of the deluxe home. 

he allows you to dodge the subject and sighs, walking in long strides to catch up to you.  

“i’ve never seen a house this big before,” luffy admits, admiring the mansion along with the wellkept greenery surrounding it. 

“awesome, right?” usopp gloats, walking around like he owned the place. “kaya’s given me an open invitation to drop by anytime i want.” 

“wow.” you’re not sure if luffy was just going along with usopp’s act or if he really believed him. knowing the devil fruit user, it was more than likely the latter. “all this for just one person?”

“well, she lives here with her butler and a few other staff,” usopp replies, leaning against the stone well that sat in the middle of the lawn.

“money really shows you who people truly are,” nami mutters, eyes scanning the property. “most people only care about themselves and what’s theirs.”

zoro is quick to throw the insult back at her. “sounds like someone i know.”

you roll your eyes at his comment, though you make no effort to disagree with him. nami was a little on the materialistic side. 

“and a small staff makes for easy pickings,” she continues, proving your point.

“we just got here and you’re already planning on robbing the place blind?” you ask though you already know the answer.

“at least a little blurry,” she smirks, following behind luffy and usopp who walk toward the entrance. 

you and zoro share a look. one that says disappointed but not surprised. 

going under a shrub shaped as an arch, you’re met with a beautiful pond. you admire the pink lilies that float at the top and the bushes that were intricately trimmed into the shape of various animals. even if the people that lived here were filthy rich, at least they had good decorative taste. 

“so if you have an invitation, why are we going around the back way?” luffy ponders.

usopp’s answer is nonchalant. “oh, i never use the front entrance. like i said, this is the vip entrance reserved for special guests.”

zoro scoffs. “this guy’s definitely–”

“don’t start,” you groan, cutting him off. 

abruptly, usopp freezes and spins around, attempting to usher your crew back. “you know what, there’s actually a more exclusive entrance this way–”

the sharp swoosh of a knife cutting through the air and burying itself in the ground between usopp’s feet cuts him off. from the direction the kitchen utensil was thrown stands a heavyset gentleman with his face wrinkled in anger. his demanding voice booms through the garden, “the hell are you doing here, usopp?” 

the dark-skinned boy fumbles over his word. “buchi, buddy, uh, kaya’s expecting me.”

“another one of your lies,” the man – seemingly named buchi – seethes, grabbing him by the collar. “you ain’t welcome here and you know it.”

“i know nothing of the sort,” usopp retorts, keeping his cool even when he was practically being lifted off the ground by his shirt. “i’m here to give kaya an extra special gift.”

before buchi can get another word out, a feminine voice calls out for your companion. coming down the steps is a frail looking girl in a pink dress. on her arm is a man dressed in a crisp suit, presumably the butler usopp had mentioned earlier. though, from where you stand you can’t see either of their faces too clearly. 

“what a wonderful surprise,” she exclaims, breathlessly. 

“kaya!” usopp exclaims, returning her enthusiasm. buchi has no choice but to let him go, begrudgingly. usopp makes sure to shoot him a smug look before walking towards the young girl. “happy birthday.” 

the butler clears his throat, not afraid to intrude on their special moment. “usopp, we’ve discussed this before. you mustn’t show up unannounced.” 

“nonsense, klahadore.” kaya smiles warmly. “have you come to tell me another story? i do love hearing about your adventures.” 

“i’ll do you one better,” usopp smirks with such confidence that even you’re left wondering what kind of surprise he has up his sleeve. “i brought some of my crew!” he gestures back towards the four of you, proudly. 

your excitement vanishes. “oh. the surprise is… us.”

“well, that’s boring,” luffy agrees, just as disappointed as you are. 

kaya, on the other hand, is none the wiser. “it’s so nice to meet you. you must all stay for dinner.” 

klahadore lowers his voice. “miss kaya, it is a bit last minute. i’m afraid the kitchen hasn’t prepared for any extra guests.”

“please,” begs kaya, softly. “it’s my birthday. can’t be too much trouble can it?” 

giving in, klahadore purses his lips. “anything for you, miss kaya.” 

luffy claps his hands together. “alright! when do we eat?” 

“you don’t. not dressed like that, at least.” the butler directs himself to a staff member with teal colored hair. “sham, kindly show usopp and his friends to the guest suites. you will bathe and change before dinner.”

she follows his orders and leads the way. luffy, usopp, nami, and zoro trail behind her and you go to do the same. however, all it takes is a quick glance to stop you dead in your tracks. usually, you weren’t one to stare but klahadore’s face. that stare. so dark and depraved. 

“yes, miss?” he asks, holding your gaze. “can i help you?” 

“n-no, i…” your throat goes dry as you attempt to recover smoothly. “i just wanted to, um, thank you for being so hospitable.” 

his lips curve upwards into a sinister grin. “the pleasure’s all mine.” as if to confirm your worst fear, klahadore uses his palm to readjust his glasses. his beady eyes gauge your reaction closely.

the familiar gesture sends chills down your spine. appearance-wise, he had changed drastically but his aura was still just as menacing as you remember it. he was still the corrupt pirate captain you used to serve under. you feel like a weak and helpless subordinate all over again.

“klahadore!” giggles kaya. “you’re smiling! that’s certainly a rarity.”

he hums. “i’ve simply come to the realization that having guests once in a while can truly be a delight.”

his sickeningly sweet tone makes your stomach turn. just the fact that you were standing in front of him – captain kuro – again after all these years was nauseating in itself. last you’d heard he had died at the hands of captain morgan. how was this even possible? then again, he wasn’t dubbed kuro of a hundred plans for no reason. he always had a trick or two up his sleeve. you assumed this was no different. 

“hey, you comin’?”

you turn around to see zoro waiting for you. he meets your gaze for a moment. the softness of his eyes is a stark contrast to kuro’s. it’s a breath of fresh air. he then shifts his attention to your former captain and you swear his eyes darken. 

“yeah, sorry,” you mumble, trying not to look shaken as you walk up the steps. 

zoro follows behind you, this time closer than before.

“why would anybody even need this many clothes?”

“it’s not about need with these people, luffy. it’s about want,” nami spits, thumbing through the various fabrics on the wall. 

“at least she’s rich and nice,” luffy replies, innocently.

nami rolls her eyes. “yeah, letting us stay for dinner must be her idea of charity work.” 

“what are we even supposed to wear?” luffy continues, uninterested in nami’s criticism of the rich. 

“anything you want. when are you ever going to get the opportunity to wear things this nice?” 

you step out from behind the changing board where you’d swapped out your old tee and cargo skirt for an elegant satin dress. it was a stunning shade of olive green and frilly lace decorated the edges. not to mention, it hugged your curves in all the right ways.

nami’s eyes widen. “see, she’s got the right idea. you look amazing.” 

you smile, bashfully. “honestly, i feel amazing.”

“you look the same to me,” your captain shrugs.

nami shoots him a death glare but you intervene before she can scold him.

“way to keep me humble, luffy.”

“no problem!” 

at that exact moment, a freshly showered zoro arrives donning a silk robe. he eyes the multitude of garments that cover every inch of the room, not particularly impressed. 

“there you are. don’t you think she looks nice?” nami asks him, gesturing towards you. she doesn’t notice how you shrink under zoro’s gaze. neither does he, as his eyes take their time raking over you, from top to bottom.

he hums. “suits you.” with that, he sets off towards a chair in the corner of the room.  

“seriously?” sighs nami, exasperated. “are you two physically unable to give compliments or something?” 

“hey, doesn’t that butler seem familiar to you guys?” zoro asks, promptly ignoring nami’s complaint. 

his question causes your breath to hitch. you’d pushed the kuro problem to the back of your mind while you were in search of a suitable dinner outfit. you figured that as long as your crew was by your side, he wouldn’t dare try anything. and even if he did… well, you’d seen what had happened to axe-hand morgan and buggy. 

“yeah, i think he was at the last dinner party i attended,” nami replies sarcastically, taking a handful of dresses behind the changing board. 

as he takes a seat, zoro grumbles, “i swear i’ve seen him before.” 

“where?” you can’t help but ask, fiddling with the lace on the neckline of your dress. 

“so far, i’ve got two suspicions. a wanted poster or funky bar on mirrorball island. you ever been?”

you know zoro’s teasing you, judging by the grin on his face. after all, funky bar was known to get insanely rowdy; never would he imagine finding someone as gentle as you there. but what he didn’t know is that it happened to be one of kuro’s favorite bars. per his request, you and the rest of the black cat pirates frequented it often, so he was more than likely right about having seen kuro there. he’d probably even seen you in passing, once or twice. thankfully, he doesn’t seem to have any recollection of that.

the thought of zoro knowing about your past forms a knot in the pit of your stomach. would he think less of you for having joined such a ruthless crew at one point in your life? what if it put a strain on the friendship you’d worked so hard to form? 

“i’ve, uh, heard of it,” you decide to reply, pushing down your worries for the time being. 

he tilts his head slightly, thinking out loud. “then again, i have seen a lot of wanted posters and bars in my time as a pirate hunter.”

you feel a grin creep onto your face. “probably more bars than posters, huh?”

zoro mirrors your smile. “shut up.”

by the time dinner rolls around, the entire crew is doing what they do best. 

luffy is stuffing his face, nami is attempting to swindle one of the staff, zoro is hanging by the drinks, and you’re hanging by zoro. 

“hey zoro, you gotta try this!” luffy calls through a mouthful of food.

“i’ve got all i need right here,” he mutters, taking a swig out of his champagne flute. 

“you know, i don’t think i’ve ever seen you choke down something that isn’t alcohol,” you comment, watching the way he downs the glass in one go. 

dryly, he replies, “that’s because i haven’t.”

“very on brand.”

“ladies and gentlemen,” calls out that voice from the top of the stairs. “may i present… miss kaya.”

arm in arm, kuro and kaya walk down the steps, all eyes on the birthday girl and her stunning gown. well, except you. your eyes never leave the so-called butler by her side. your jaw clenches when he has the audacity to meet your gaze and hold it. shameless bastard. 

once they reach the bottom, merry leads kaya to the guests while kuro takes his post at the bottom of the stairs… right next to the drink table. before you can think about steering yourself and zoro away, kuro speaks.

“forgive me if i am speaking out of line, madam, but i must inform you. you look positively radiant,” he purrs, soaking in your appearance. he looks ready to pounce.

you can’t stop your eyes from rolling. good to know he’s the same pervert he used to be.

looking between you both and sensing your discomfort, zoro steps in. “and you look familiar.” 

kuro’s head stiffly turns to face him, eyes peeling away from you. “highly doubtful, sir.” 

“funky bar? mirror ball island?” 

“funky bar?” kuro repeats, disgusted. “well, i can assure you i’ve never patronized that type of establishment.” 

while it was amusing to see your highly esteemed former captain lie through his teeth, the tension between him and zoro was unbearable. 

“well then.” zoro continues with his little interrogation. “ever been on a wanted poster?”

you cringe at his bluntness. sometimes it seemed like he had less of a filter than luffy.

kuro puts on a scandalized face at the question. “sir! such an accusation is highly offensive.” tugging on his collar, he goes to remove himself from zoro’s probing. “now, if you’ll excuse me, i’m going to help prepare the dinner table.” 

he leaves, en route to the dining room. zoro’s eyes follow his figure until he disappears, squinting as he racks his brain for any further recollection of this suspicious butler. 

you sigh. if zoro was going to continue being so relentless, you were sure the night would end in bloodshed and uncovered secrets. 

“keep this coming,” zoro demands, handing the empty wine bottle to sham. she takes it with a glare. 

“would it kill you to say please?” you ask, slicing the slab of fish on your plate into smaller pieces.

“the service here is shitty. why should i have to be polite?” 

you scowl. “remind me to never have dinner with you again.”

zoro turns to you with that cocky grin of his. “what if i asked nicely?” 

his quip makes your heart flutter but you manage to keep your composure. “you can try your luck.” 

before he can respond, usopp speaks up. “luffy, isn’t there something that you wanted to talk to kaya about?” 

luffy gesticulates enthusiastically with his fork. “oh, yes! usopp told me that you own the whole shipyard.” 

“well, actually, my parents founded the shipyard and merry’s been running the business since they… passed. but all that’s about to change. tonight, at midnight, i will become the sole owner.” she smiles somberly. 

“well, that’s great,” luffy says, raising his drink at her. “because we want to buy a ship from you.” 

“ah, i see. usopp mentioned that you’re sailors.” 

“nope, not sailors. we’re pirates!”

you’re certain at least three people at the table choke on their food, yourself included. 

“this ought to be good,” zoro mumbles behind his glass.

you’re too busy coughing into your napkin to chastise him for finding this entertaining.

“pirates?” kaya repeats, unsure of how to react. 

“yup! we haven’t sailed together for very long but we’ve already defeated an evil clown, raided a marine base, and taken down a captain with an axe! for a hand!” luffy holds up a fist, presumably to impersonate axe-hand morgan.

“sounds a lot like your adventures, usopp,” kaya says, turning to the brunette.

all he can do is laugh dryly. “yeah, that’s… that’s crazy.” 

“and we’re just getting started!” luffy continues, climbing up onto the table.

“someone put me out of my misery,” you mumble, looking down at your plate to ignore the secondhand embarrassment.

a tap on your shoulder answers your plea.

turning around, you find yourself face to face with kuro once again. “madam, a word please?”

“might i ask what for?” zoro cuts in before you can so much as think of a response.

kuro offers him the most forced grin you’ve ever had the displeasure of seeing. “i’m afraid that is between the lady and i.”

the swordsman turns to you, scanning your face for any ounce of discomfort. “you okay with that?”

you inhale, figuring it was finally time for you to confront the darkest part of your past. it was silly to assume you would be able to ignore him throughout your entire stay here. besides, you were sure zoro, just like the rest of your crew, would be on standby if kuro got brave enough to try anything. “sure. just… keep an eye out.”

zoro understands completely. truthfully, you didn’t even need to ask – he always looked after you. “got it.”

you push yourself out of your seat and smooth out your dress. you allow kuro to lead you to the doorway – he was smart enough to know that was the farthest you’d let him take you. 

“what do you want, klahadore?” you seethe, folding your arms.

he arches a brow. “why must you call me that? it’s ridiculous.” 

you tilt your head with faux innocence. “oh? is that not your name? must have misheard.”

he gives you an irritated look, dark eyes drilling into you.

“i remember that look,” you mutter, your memory serving you well. “it’s the same one you’d give me before you’d threaten to slice me to bits with your claws.”

kuro has the audacity to chuckle dryly. “but i never did, did i? although there were certainly times times where i should’ve.”

“what you should be is dead,” you hiss bitterly. “when i heard the news, i knew it was too good to be true.”

“you wound me, kitten,” he drawls, reaching up to fix his glasses. 

the condescending nickname makes your skin crawl. it carried so many awful memories of your time spent with the black cat pirates. it reminded you of just how weak kuro viewed you — nothing but a helpless, pitiful kitten in his eyes. typical of the man that abused his authority and treated you with not a single ounce of respect. 

he continues, putting on a sweet tone. “after all these years, stuck waiting hand and foot on that spoiled brat, there’s nothing i’d love more than to hear my favorite crew mate say my real name.”

you snap at him. “i’m no crew mate of yours.”

he sighs, dramatically. “sadly, you’re correct. after all, you did slip off the ship the moment we docked in shells town. locating you on an island crawling with marines proved to be nearly impossible. we had no choice but to leave without you.”

“that’s exactly why i chose to escape there.” 

“and to this day i can’t for the life of me figure out why you would ever do that. why would you want to leave us? leave me?”

you actually laugh right in his face. “is it really that hard to figure out? you were evil. you threatened and harassed me on a daily basis.”

“so your solution was to join that ragtag crew?” he glances at the table. “it’s pathetic, even for you.”

you lean into his face, lowering your voice down. “i’m happier than i ever was on your shitty crew. every day i wake up grateful that i managed to escape you.”

you see that vein on his forehead bulge before he’s gripping you by the chin. “listen here, you little bitch–”

the shiny silver of a sword slides between you and kuro, coming to rest against his neck. his adam’s apple bobs as he gulps anxiously, releasing you. thanks to zoro’s sword, it seemed as if he finally remembered where he was. you were no longer on his ship, he was no longer allowed to treat you like the dirt he walked on. not without someone noticing, that is. 

“why don’t you step away?” zoro offers simply.

that much was a kindness. usually those who found themselves on the end of zoro’s blade(s) weren’t lucky enough to receive a warning. however, the swordsman didn’t wish to cause a scene. at least not when you were right there and everyone was watching with shock from the dinner table.

kuro obliges, stumbling back. he meets kaya’s horrified eyes, feeling ashamed that he allowed his act to slip. surely this would cause some setbacks in his plan. with no excuse for his uncharacteristic behavior, the raven haired man scurries away and up the stairs.

zoro turns and locks eyes with luffy, giving him one singular nod. luffy returns it, jumping out of his seat and going after the butler. quiet murmuring breaks out at the dinner table, everyone surely confused. 

sheathing his sword, zoro directs his attention to you once more. “are you alright?” a calloused hand comes up to grip your chin, much like kuro had. however, this time, the touch is gentle. loving, almost. you welcome it.

“yeah, i’m… fine.” your heart is beating out of your chest and it has everything to do with your close proximity to zoro.

he tilts your face around, inspecting every inch of it. once he finishes, he pulls back. his demeanor goes serious once more. “we need to have a talk.”

you nod. “i know. i’ve been keeping some things from you guys and–”

“just tell me what’s been going on,” he demands. “and don’t overcomplicate it. you can be straightforward with me.”

his sincerity makes you start over, this time far more candidly. “klahadore used to be a pirate. i was part of his crew. he was my… captain.”

the shame in your voice pulls at zoro’s heartstrings. didn’t you know there was no reason to feel guilty with him? “is that it?” 

you open your mouth to speak but come up empty. all you can do is furrow your eyebrows at his unexpectedly dismissive reaction.

“i knew it,” zoro continues, annoyed. “i knew i’d seen him on a wanted poster before. just didn’t have any proof.”

“wait, so you don’t– you really don’t care?” you ask, still avoiding eye contact. “me being a former black cat pirate doesn’t bother you?”

he shrugs. “you said it yourself. ‘former.’ all that matters is that you got the hell out of there. and away from that creep. would he always put his hands on you like that?”

you blink a couple times, sighing. “his temper was really bad so–”

that seemed to be enough for zoro. “i’ll kill the bastard,” he hisses. “wanted to slice him to bits the moment i saw him grab you.” 

though it’s a violent threat, you can’t help but smile. the idea of zoro being so protective that he’d kill a man just for touching you made you blush. pirate love language, you suppose.

“well, i wouldn’t have stopped you,” you tell him, more than ready to see your former captain go.

zoro clicks his tongue. “nah. could’ve stained your new dress with his blood. i never would have been able to forgive myself.”

“so you do have a soft spot,” you tease.

“only for pretty things.”

“do you mean me or the dress?” 

now it’s zoro’s turn to become bashful. though, his lack of response is an answer in itself. you can’t help but giggle. 

a loud bang from upstairs interrupts your moment with the green-haired man. you assume luffy had gotten his hands on kuro… or vice versa. zoro must be thinking the same thing judging by the way he instinctively rests a hand on the handle of his blade.

“you should go up there,” you tell him. “i’ll stay with kaya.”  

he gives you a nod, though he doesn’t make any effort to leave. he stands there like he wants to say something… or do something. before you can think about it too much, you pull him in by the collar and crash your lips onto his. they’re slightly chapped and taste like the wine that’d come from the cellar – it’s pleasant. his large palms come to rest on your lower back; his hold feels tight and secure. 

when you finally allow yourself to pull away, you’re biting back a smile. “kick his ass for me.” 

“will i get more of that if i do?” asks zoro, wetting his lips. they now taste like the cherry lip gloss you’d borrowed from kaya. he takes a step forward, attempting to close the gap between you two once more.

you shrug, pushing him away by the chest. “go help luffy and we’ll see.”

you both know that means yes.

[wilwheaton]

Hey man, I could use a few talking points to help convince a friend that Musk is horrible. I'm reading 'Think Again' by Adam Grant (good read btws) and he says to help convince people to come to your viewpoint that it can be good to have 2 or 3 strong points instead of 10 mixed points. The counter argument I get from people about Musk being good is that he did spacex and tesla, and without him we'd be decades behind. Maybe, but I don't have good ammo. Please help as I get too angry tobe critical

Well, listen, the fascism, the transphobia, the chaos, and the unwavering support for autocrats all over the planet really ought to be enough to outweigh anything else, if you ask me. It sounds like you know some people who got excited about the companies he threw money at, and they are having a tough time updating their feelings due to current events. Or maybe they share his values and don't want to admit that.

But I'll try to offer some simple facts.

He did not do engineering with Tesla or SpaceX or even PayPal. He is a fraud. He walked into these existing businesses, where people had done actual work and engineering, threw some of his Apartheid money at them, and took credit for their work. He claims, over and over again, to be a founder of these companies, and that's just straight up a lie that is easily disproved.

He literally did nothing except throw money at people and take credit for their work. Look at every Tesla up to the (chokes back laughter) Cybertruck. Those Teslas look like cars, because they were designed by engineers. Look at the Cybertruck. When you stop laughing at what a joke it is, know this: that's what happens when Elon Musk is in charge. It's like a ten year-old with some crayons drew it on a menu at Denny's.

All of the things his weird fans claim he made possible, are things that would have happened, and were in the process of happening, without him. He literally did nothing to advance the technologies or engineering. In fact, SpaceX whistleblowers have told reporters how they had to keep Musk occupied with bullshit, so they could do the real work without him fucking it up all the time with his incompetence.

But even if he were telling the truth, even if the myth were fact, it would not outweigh the damage, the pain, the chaos, and the suffering he has inflicted on millions and millions of people, all over the world with his lies, his spread of misinformation, and his incitement of angry incels.

Also, don't forget, when Ukraine was trying to defend itself, he turned off Starlink access when they could have decisively ended Russia's aggression. A lot of people have suffered and died as a direct consequence of that action, which he took to support his buddy and fellow autocrat, Vladimir Putin.

That's more information than I think your friends will be willing to hear. Studies indicate that people who are heavily invested in the myth of a person will fight hard to hold onto the myth, and reject truth and facts, because it's so jarring to them. Musk has built a cult of personality, and maybe your friends are stuck to it.

I'd gently encourage your friends to consider one key fact: he has lied about his entire origin story, he has lied about his contributions to Tesla and SpaceX. He lies about everything, except when he posts on Twitter like a 12 year-old edgelord, because that's who he is, emotionally.

Finally, and this is for you, specifically: if your friends insist on supporting a fascist, a racist, a misogynist, or a bigot, because they think rockets are cool, maybe it's time to look for new friends.

I hope this helps.

And fuck Elon Musk.

[aphel1on]

the longer i look at this panel the more deranged i feel about it. this is environmental storytelling at its finest.

the eodio stand-in doll in particular makes me crazy. where did it come from? did thistle just pop into the village like "hey ungrateful wretches, one of you needs to make me a life-sized mannequin, For Reasons". did he make it himself? seems quite unlikely, yet the possibility haunts me. i mean, i guess there could've been one just lying around the dungeon somewhere. it's the act of replacement itself that really gets to me. (edit: it's been pointed out to me that the eodio doll also could have been left behind as part of delgal's escape plan. slightly different kind of madness but tbh, just as funny-sad to me if that happened and thistle went Ok, Guess That's Eodio Now.)

both the wives are there too. we know very little about them, which makes me tend to assume thistle wasn't all that close to them, but they're still included. when did they end up here? did he kick their souls out of their bodies at some point, or were they among those who left their bodies voluntarily to try and escape? when did yaad become an effective orphan, delgal an effective widower? women in the margins of the narrative, tell me your stories!

and the fact that they're surrounded with the living paintings, which thistle habitually wanders through to relive the past. this truly is his inner sanctum, his place of utmost comfort... and it may as well be a tomb.

that panel is so creepy when you first see it. just a sense of "ohh jeez, there's a lot to unpack there".

and actually, yeah, it remains creepy from pretty much any angle, but the more you think about it the more it's also tragic.

this is where many of thistle's happiest moments took place. everything he had in that picture is now gone. first he lost their warm regard, then one-by-one their bodies became hollow shells. before the end, none of the people here needed or enjoyed food anymore. the dinner table, as a center of both family life and nutrition, became obsolete.

a line from someone else's excellent post about thistle has stuck in my head ever since i read it: "to eat is to live, but to eat together is to be loved". to me, this is the sentiment and symbolism at the core of everything that happens in dungeon meshi.

it makes this bit all the sadder and more disturbing.

there's several things to note here:

thistle has gone from seated and eating with them as part of the family, to a lonely and ominous figure hovering over delgal's shoulder

eodio is conspicuously absent from view, and his body would have been a husk by now, but yaad says parents, which forces me to assume that they are sitting at the table with eodio's soulless body, hidden under yaad's speech bubble

they're not actually eating anything.

those plates are empty. you could assume that they've already finished eating, maybe, but yaad refers to it as sitting around the dinner table. in fact, he compares it to what he's currently doing; sitting at the dinner table watching the touden party eat, not eating anything himself.

it paints a pretty grim picture. for some time even after the fantasy had fallen apart, even after there was no need or desire to eat, they kept gathering around the dinner table. at that point, i'd guess only so as not to provoke thistle's wrath.

but even that last happened a long, long time ago.

this is a callback to what senshi said in the golden kingdom: the reason the people keep maintaining their fields and silverware and so forth is that they need to do so in order to stay sane.

paradoxically, the dinner table is the most striking evidence of thistle's insanity, and at the same time, it's the only anchor to sanity he has left.

he kept enforcing the ritual of dinner together long after it lost significance. when even that was impossible- because almost everyone's souls were gone- he kept their bodies at the table anyway. it's fine. it's fine! he's protected them, physically, just like he set out to. they're all still breathing. at a glance it looks like they could wake up and resume dinner at any moment. like this, it's easy to pretend.

isn't that what being a dungeon lord is, at the core of it? rejecting reality, staying in the prison of one's impossible desires. it's just one long game of pretend.

thistle did all this to protect his loved ones. no matter how obsessive and twisted he became in pursuit of that over the years, his core motivation never changed. this is all he has left of that dream: his loved ones' bodies gathered around the locus of their happiest memories together. like this, he can tell himself he's succeeded.

when eodio's body vanished with delgal's soul in it- when he couldn't even have that anymore... well.

i want to reach through the screen and shake him. no, they're not, thistle. THISTLE, NO, THEY'RE NOT! the doll of eodio is the closest thing to him in this panel, underlining the point. when that final illusion was shattered, he became completely unable to cope with reality.

therefore casually forgetting the creepy eodio doll isn't real.

thistle isn't stupid. eodio's body vanished at the same time as delgal's soul. shortly after, more adventurers came pouring in than ever before. deep down, he knows what happened. if he didn't, being confronted with the truth by mithrun wouldn't have made him panic so hard he summoned chimera falin to the first floor.

yet still...

he absolutely can't admit that to himself. he is clinging to the last scraps of the illusion with everything he has.

this is a dungeon lord at the end of desire. this is a lotus-eater machine left running long after its conclusion. this is mithrun lying listlessly in his bed, his replica lover having given up any pretense of being human. the illusion is all that's left. (an illusion is all it ever was.) thistle and the citizens of the golden kingdom- they're ghosts just as much as the ones who wander the dungeon floors. and if it weren't for thistle sealing the lion away, he would've been eaten by it long ago.

all of this encapsulated by that single panel of the dinner table.

[hysteria-things]

HEYY I LOVE YOUR STORIES COULD YOU MAYBE DO ONE FOR CHRIS OR MATT WHERE HE MEETS A GIRL ON TOUR WHEN SIGNING AUTOGRAPHS AND TELLS HER TO MEET HIM IN THE TOURBUS THEN YKK

♛ ONE ° •

ʚ♡ɞ 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 | 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 ʚ♡ɞ

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dom!matt x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: the versus tour takes place in your hometown! while doing autographs, you seem catch the matt sturniolo’s eye.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUTTY SMUT, swearing, choking if you squint, making out, oral (male and female receiving), dry humping (?), face fucking, spanking, p in v, overstimulation, dumbification, marking, some degradation/praising, hair pulling, squirting, cream pie, ROUGHH

ASSUME YOU’RE ON THE PILL!

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2,427

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: i added this to my welcome post but i’m going to say it here too. my requests are now CLOSED because i’ve been getting overwhelmed and i want to get them done LOL but my inbox is still open so feel free to chat with me :)

idk when i’ll open them again, but they will be eventually!

the moment you’ve been waiting for for months has finally arrived. you and your best friend hannah were lucky enough to get tickets to the sturniolo triplets tour in your hometown.

currently, the small talk line moves slowly but surely. your friend is decked out in purple for nick while you’re wearing blue for matt.

“we’re next!” hannah gushes, clapping her hands in excitement. she pushes you ahead of her. “i’m scared. you go first.”

you roll your eyes playfully. honestly, you’re not nervous to meet your favorites. you feel chill, which is the opposite of what you thought you’d be like.

matt greets you by hugging you tight and smiling. “how are you?” he asks, taking his card and signing it.

“i’m doing good.” you return his smile. “you liking the tour so far?”

he nods, eyeing you up and down. he feels something different about you. this doesn’t feel like any other small talk.

“i love it.”

the security man motions for you to go on ahead. of course, you listen and start to grab your items, but matt stops you. “do you have a boyfriend?”

see, if this were any other person you’d be weirded out by this question; but because it’s matthew sturniolo, you answer.

“nope.”

he licks his lips, taking the card that he signed and flipping it over to write something.

the scary security is getting angry and impatient with you, so you can only read what he wrote as you walk away. your eyeballs almost burst out of your skull.

i want to see you after the show.

now, you and hannah are standing in the red carpet line before the show actually starts.

you guys talk until it’s your turn, the both of you going since you want a group picture. first is chris, then nick, and lastly matt. he hugs you longer than the other two.

a chill runs down your spine when his voice tickles against your ear. “i’ll meet you outside later, right?”

he pulls away, getting ready to pose for the picture, but you nod for an answer.

“that was so much fun!” hannah screeches as you guys walk to the parking lot.

you agree, before stopping. “i need to go back and use the restroom. do you mind taking my stuff with you to my car?”

she grins, grabbing your stuff. “sure thing.”

you speed walk back to the venue, fewer and fewer people flooding the area as you wait.

a door opens moments later, sounding like the backstage door, and you turn to the source.

you blush, your cheeks heating up more and more the closer he gets with that damn smile on his face.

pinch me this can’t be real.

“hi,” he says lowly.

“hi,” you repeat back.

he looks at his watch. “they’re yapping away in there so we should have some time.”

you’re not sure what that means but again: since it’s matthew fucking sturniolo… you’ll listen without a doubt.

your heartbeat pumps rapidly in your chest when he sneaks you into the tour bus.

you kind of feel bad for leaving hannah behind… but this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

the bus looks way bigger on the outside than the inside, and you’re still trying hard to wrap your head around that you’re with matthew. fucking. sturniolo.

he admires the way you take it all in with his hands shoved into his pockets. he’s sure you’re thinking about so many things right now, but the only thing he can think of is how badly he wants to fuck you.

thinking about a fan that way is insane, but he just finds you so much different than any other fan girl. you’re confident, kind, and gorgeous.

you finish observing the tour bus and smile wide at him. “it’s very cool in here.”

“yeah.” he chuckles. “the beds are a tight squeeze though.”

you giggle, and he steps closer. your mind runs a million miles a minute with each step he takes. “do you trust me?” he questions, now inches away from you.

you raise a brow suspiciously. “should i not?”

he smirks, shaking his head. “i’m just checking.” he places his hands on your hips gently, running them up and down.

leaning towards your ear, he whispers. “be good for me, yeah?”

your legs subconsciously squeeze together, and he cups your cheeks with his palms. he leans in slowly. he hesitates when his lips ghost yours to see if you’d protest, but because you don’t, he kisses you.

his tongue licks your lips to indicate that he wants you to open, but you don’t. you feel the coldness of his rings on the side of your neck before he squeezes. when you gasp at the sudden contact, that’s his sign for his tongue to enter your mouth. “you promised you’d be good.” he says between the kiss.

you smirk. “i didn’t promise anything.”

he snarls, leaning back in. the make-out goes on for at least thirty seconds before he pulls away, the lipstick you had on now smeared on both of your mouths.

your eyes have a mind of their own and look down, seeing his rock-hard erection as clear as day through his jeans. “get on your knees.”

your eyebrows shoot to your hairline at the sudden tone change, but you obey either way.

he wastes no time to unbuckle his belt to pull down his jeans, his dick springing out right in front of you. the tip is red and leaking pre-cum. you open your mouth wide without him having to tell you, and he smirks.

leaning in, he grabs your hair and stops you. “no.” he says.

instead, he slaps the head on your tongue before pushing in slowly. it’s like you can feel every vein enter your mouth, gagging in the process when he’s deep in your throat. “holy shit.” he breathes, seeing how much of him you took.

it’s not all of it, but it’s more than he thought. you give him puppy dog eyes through your lashes, despite them being glossy.

he starts to thrust into your mouth, jaw slack as he watches his dick run past your lips in one swift motion. the grip on your head stays tight, him hunching over slightly to get deeper.

you moan at the shape protruding in your throat, the gagging and sloppy wet noises making you turned on even more. “fuck i’ve been wanting to do this since you opened that pretty fucking mouth of yours.” he pants, moving at an ungodly speed that makes it hard for you to breath. “do you just let random guys use this mouth? sure seems that way.”

you moan again, lifting yourself off of the ground the tiniest bit so you can feel the top of his shoe on your swollen clit.

whimpering at the feeling, you start to grind yourself on it while he still fucks your mouth. your arms wrap around his leg, humping faster like a bitch in heat.

“that’s a little pathetic.” he laughs hoarsely, groaning when his dick twitches. “so, so needy for me.”

you let out a pained sob because along with your throat, the feeling of you grinding also hurts. it would be best if you had something way more than his shoe.

“s-shit.” he whimpers, pulling out to where only the tip is in your mouth, making sure you get all of his cum on your tastebuds. he smears the rest on your lips.

matt lifts you from the ground, bending you over the small table that they have. he grabs your ass before giving it a light spank.

it’s his turn to kneel now, simultaneously taking off your leggings. he bites your ass before sliding your panties over. you feel his breath against your aching core. “jesus christ.” he mumbles. “you’re dripping down your legs already. aren’t you just an eager thing?”

he spreads your folds with his thumbs, blowing cool air on them that makes you jolt. you’re too sensitive for that.

then, your phone starts to ring right next to you. it’s hannah.

shit.

you cannot not answer, because if you don’t she’ll think something is wrong. you swipe, putting the phone on speaker. “hell— oh.”

matt immediately digs into you, eating you out like he hasn’t eaten ever in his life.

“where the hell are you? i’ve been waiting by your car for like thirty minutes. using the bathroom shouldn’t take this long, y/n.”

the man below you squeezes your thighs, spreading yourself wider to practically be nose-deep inside of you. your eyes roll back hard, mouth hanging open with silent moans leaving it. “hello?”

“h-hannah i’m sorry i’ll— mm— be out s-soon. i’m sorry.”

“are you okay?” she questions.

with that, matt starts sucking at your bud, causing your legs to shake. you grip the table as hard as you can, your upper body giving out and laying flat on the surface in front of you.

“yes i’m fine!” you say, trying to reach for his head and push him away, but that only makes him grab onto you harder.

he’s fascinated by the way you taste it’s almost hypnotizing. your arousal drips down his chin, and the way he’s sucking has your orgasm wash over you without warning. “i’m cumming.” you whine, and you feel the smug smile on his face.

“oh, so you’re coming? thank god because it’s a little chilly out here,” hannah replies.

“fuck yes.” you moan but cover it by clearing your throat. “i mean, yes. i will be coming in a-a bit.”

she sighs through the phone. “okay.”

you quickly hang up without saying goodbye, holding on for dear life since your release knocked your legs out.

he holds you, getting up and wiping your cum off of his face. “you’re a bit of a bad girl, aren’t you?”

spank.

“leaving your friend out there all alone.”

spank.

“so that you can fuck me.”

spank.

“like a slut.”

spank.

you wince every time he hits you, the stinging tingling on your ass. he grabs your hips and arches you more.

he moves his tip up and down at your entrance teasingly, getting wetter by the second. “matt, please.” you whine, your pussy desperate for his cock. “please fuck me.”

he stops, waiting for a beat before pushing into you like it’s no big deal. he’s big for sure, but because of your wetness, he slides in perfectly. the both of you moan, and matt stares at where you conjoined. “your pussy’s fucking amazing.” he groans. “by far the best i’ve ever had.”

you start to bounce back on him since he’s taking his sweet ass time, but out of nowhere starts pounding into you.

whatever they have on the table starts to either fall or rattle from him railing into you. he takes your hands and pins them behind your back. “harder.” you wince out, and he whistles.

“you have no idea what you just asked for.” he says, doing the opposite and slowing down. “you won’t be able to speak, baby.”

baby. you moan at the nickname.

you’re way past the point of ‘omg i’m hanging out with matt sturniolo!’

you try bouncing your ass back again, but this time he smacks it and spreads your legs wider to plow into you deeper. “so impatient.” he sighs.

all you can do is scream and gasp for air with each thrust, hands balled up into fists.

your mind becomes blank once your eyes cross, your mouth hung open with your chin resting on the table. he hits just the right spot each time, squeezing around him.

“i— i—” you try to warn that you’re close, but your mind won’t let you.

he wasn’t kidding about the won’t be able to speak part.

“you can do it,” he says, knowing damn well you can’t.

your body becomes limp like a rag doll, matt having completely corrupted you.

he tuts fake pouting. “look who’s cock drunk. be a good girl and cum for me. you deserve it.”

blabbing a response, you squirt before cumming harder than before. usually, you’d be embarrassed, but you’re too far gone to care.

“that’s so hot.” he grunts, fucking you through your orgasm. “come on, baby. one more.”

“i can’t.” you sob, his hand letting go of yours before wrapping your hair not once but twice to lift your body to his.

“you can and you will,” he says, your third orgasm already building up in less than two minutes.

tears run down your face, eyes fluttering shut from the overwhelming amount of pleasure. there’s no way the human body can have this much pleasure and be okay.

matt kisses your neck, sucking a big mark when he finds the sweet spot. “i know you’re close already.” he says, his cum starting to leak into you deep.

you can’t stop your body from spasming, letting out one last sob before you cum again.

he pulls out, laying down on top of you and rubbing around your body soothingly to calm you down from your heavy breathing.

he covers your full cunt with your underwear so his cum doesn’t ooze out. he kisses your clothed pussy, and you flinch from the sensitivity. “making sure it’s in there.” he smirks.

after a few minutes, he helps you sit on the table to put your undergarments back on. your eyes are half closed from the post-sex haze.

matt grabs you water and a bag of chips before giving you one last hug. you guys talk for a little before he makes sure the coast is clear for you to get out without being seen.

you’re limping like crazy back to your car, seeing hannah impatiently tap her foot while leaning against the door.

once she sees you, she comes storming over. “you’re so lucky you’re my best friend or i would kill you.” she threatens. “i’ve been standing here for an hour.”

“i’m sorry.” you rasp out.

she studies your face, and it looks like you quite literally saw god. “oh my god, are you sure you are alright? you look like you got jumped.”

“it’s the after-show feeling.” you lie. “i’m exhausted. let’s go.”

she doesn’t question anymore, not even the random snacks and water you have. you start the car and place the stuff matt gave you down until you see there’s a post-it note attached to the bag of sour cream and onion.

to my favorite fan,

xxx-xxx-xxxx

text me when you get the chance, gorgeous

- matt :)

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @mayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @txssvx @sttzee @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @matthewsspecial @sturnolio-luvs @sturniolho @suga-daddy-69 @tworosesblackthorn @luckistar-posts @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloslurps @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani @sturniolosandmoree @hertvgirl @whoreforchrissturniolo @r4iyaa @sturniolotriplettoplover @mattybswife @freshsturns @loverrsposts @sturnlcvr @elliesturniolo1 @tpvmz @user283926392 @lalalands86 @sukiipjs @sturniologirl813 @leahrab @chrissturniolosslut @h3arts4harry @sturnioloblogs @creamoncreamoncream2 @luv4kozume @ivyyyyyysposts @mirxcle1 @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @sturniol0s @sturniologirly @hbvfb

[authorhjk1]

is it possible you make a smut about karina? where you fuck her infront of a mirror as you watch her body bounce as you rail her hard and groping every inch of her body.

P.S i really like your works and your writing is supurb, i hope you continue writing more stories.

I apologize for the long wait. I had to put these two requests together, because I can't keep up with ones I already got and the new ones that are coming in. Hope you guys enjoy it.

Mirror Mirror on the Wall...

(Karina X Hwang Yeji X Male Reader)

You look across the table. Dinner tasted delicious and you also prepared cake for the birthday girl. The older one of the two sisters stares down at the chocolate cake, carefully taking a bite.

It's hard to say you hate her. She is your friend's daughter after all. But you can't help it. You've watched her grow up for more than just a couple of years. You treat both sisters almost the same, but Karina started to become something that you were afraid of. A stuck up, self-centered bitch.

It's a shame actually. But by the way her mother behaves, it's not that big of a surprise. She and your friend are sitting at your table as well. You invited the family of four, because of Karina's birthday. Because you wanted to be polite. Not because you wanted Karina to be around you.

The complete opposite applies to Yeji. The younger one of the two sisters. She has her rebellious side, for sure, but she has always been a sweet sunshine. Even now, her smile lights up your dining room as she takes her first bite of the cake.

"Mmmh. It's so delicious. You are a really great cook."

You crack a smile at Yeji's compliment.

Unable to not compare the two sisters, you notice that Karina hasn't said a word. Not even a thank you. She does eat the cake, which already is something, but she is just as rude as her mother is.

You sigh in disappointment. Your friend should've done better. Of course every parent makes mistakes, but Karina's mother is just on another level. But Yeji still turned out well. You can't get behind it. What exactly went wrong?

"Please let me help."

Yeji smiles at you as she stands up to collect the rest of the plates. She is the only one of your three guests who offered her help. To be fair, her father is currently on a call with his client. Mother and daughter are both busy with their phones it seems.

"Thank you, Yeji."

"I should really come over more often."

Turning around, you see Yeji, who is walking after you into the kitchen.

"Please don't. You are a lot of work."

"Very funny."

She puts down the plates, looks outside the kitchen and looks back at you.

"Who is your favorite? Me or Karina?"

You roll your eyes at her question. A question you've heard more than a thousand times over the last years. From both of them.

"I don't have favourites."

"Oh come on. I know you like me more."

"What would make you think that?"

"You invite me more often than her."

Holding the towel for the dishes in your hand, you throw it at her. The white cloth covers Yeji's face.

"You always come here uninvited. When was the last time I asked you to come?"

Yeji pulls the towel off of her head, pouting at you.

"You invited me for today. Didn't you?"

You turn towards your sink, getting ready to wash the dishes. Your stupid dishwasher broke two days ago.

"I invited all of you. That doesn't count."

Yeji steps next to you.

"You can be really mean sometimes."

"Just honest."

Yeji takes the cleaned plate out of your hand.

The two of you finish washing the dishes in silence. Once you are done, you motion Yeji to sit at the kitchen table.

"Got something as a reward for helping me."

"Really?"

Yeji looks at you with excitement in her eyes.

You open the door of the fridge. The young woman tries to look around you, wanting to know what you are going to give her.

"More cake?"

She smiles brightly as you turn back around.

"Not just any cake."

Grabbing two forks on your way, you sit down in front of Yeji. The cake in the middle.

"It's the cake I got from the publisher for finishing the last book."

"Wow. So that really is the last book of your series?"

You nod.

"I will write more. But I think there is not much more to tell about this one."

Yeji nods in response as well. She puts a piece of cake into her mouth.

"That's delicious."

You shush her.

"Be quiet, or we have to share"

Yeji giggles, before eating some more.

"If it was you last book though, you must've gotten a lot of fan letters and stuff."

"I did."

"Can I check them out?"

"That's kinda private, Yeji. Those people send their letters to me not you."

The young woman pouts.

"Hey, man."

Your friend walks in.

"I have to meet a client. I'm sorry about this, but I have to leave now."

"No problem, mate. I will makes sure the girls get home safely."

"Thank you."

"By dad!"

"Bye sweetie."

He kisses Yeji on the head, before he walks out.

"Well, this makes my original plan way easier."

You raise an eyebrow.

"What plan?"

"Having some alone time with you."

The tone of her voice starts changing. The sweet, innocent girl starts to fade into the background.

"Your sister and your mom are still here."

"Oh please. As if they are going to check on us."

Yeji takes another bite. More slowly this time. And with way more eye contact.

"We shouldn't be doing this with anyone around."

She gets up, walking around the table.

"No one will go into your study without permission."

"But-"

Yeji gracefully takes her seat on your lap.

"Am I right? Daddy?"

The 24 year old kinky college girl has finally found its way to the surface.

Fuck. You just can't resist her.

It happened around three or four years ago, if you remember correctly. Spending a lot of time with you growing up, Yeji naturally started to enjoy the things you enjoy too. One of them being writing. She didn't just enjoy it, she loved it. You helped her improve and let her beta read all your new stuff, before publishing it. You went with her to small classes and even competitions for young writers. It was nice to share something like this with her.

And before you could even realize what was happening, Yeji already graduated. You felt like time flew past way too quickly. But on that day, you found yourself sitting in the school's gym, applauding as she got up to receive her diploma. An honorary mention for being the founder of the school's writing club and being part of a nation wide competition was of course a given.

After only a couple of hours on the day, which should've been one of the best of her life, she stood at your doorstep, looking up at you. Her black hair a mess, puffy red eyes and tears running down her cheeks. Her father always planned for her to work at his company and eventually take over. But she decided to take a different path. The path you took. Or at least a very similar one. After she told him, she already got a scholarship at a local college, her dad wasn't fond of the idea at all. The two of them fought hard that day. The only person Yeji wanted to get comforted by that day was you.

Only a couple of minutes after she arrived and dumped all of this on you, her father called. Your friend was worried about her, since she just ran off and he didn't know where she was. You told him that she was with you and would stay the night. The two of them should have a calm discussion the next day.

Yeji was incredibly thankful and eventually went to the room she always stays in when she sleeps over. After having talked to her for several hours, you wanted to make sure that she was alright one last time, before going to bed yourself. You walked in on her lying on the big bed, her skirt on the floor, her fingers knuckle deep inside of her. The way she moaned your name is the reason why you are here now.

"Fine."

You sigh in defeat, feeling Yeji slightly grind against you.

"Go upstairs. I will tell your mom we are going to write on your project for college."

Yeji suddenly attacks you, pressing her lips against yours. Her tongue aggressively demands entrance into your mouth. The two of you engage into a hot but quick kiss.

"I'll be waiting."

With one last wink and sway of her hips, Yeji is gone.

You clear your throat, before standing up. Everytime you do this, you feel like the greatest sinner on earth. She is your friend's daughter. She is half your age. You were there on her first day of school. It always feels wrong when you think about it. And it always feels wrong afterwards. But if you only glance at Yeji, all that doubt goes out the window.

"Yeji and I are in my study in case you are looking for us. She needs help on her project."

Your friend's wife just nods, while you can see Karina rolling her eyes. You know what she thinks of her younger sister. You wish she could be only half as good as her. From what you've heard from Yeji, Karina likes her own college life. Or rather the boys in it. The stories her younger sister told you makes you think that your friend and his wife raised a self entitled slut.

Opening the big oak doors to your study and library, you see Yeji sitting at your desk.

Her warm smile makes you walk a little faster.

"Come here."

Once you reach her, you grab Yeji's chin, tilting her head upwards to meet yours. The two of you engage in another passionate kiss. While keeping your lips locked, you start to peel Yeji off your chair. You guide her towards the edge of your desk. Yeji hops onto the wooden surface, disconnecting from your lips for only a second.

Her new position enables you to properly run your hands all over her body. She moans into your mouth as she feels you exploring every inch of her.

"(Y/n)."

Yeji sighs your name, feeling one of your hands on her ass, while the other dips underneath her top. Your reach upwards, until you find her chest. Squeezing her tits over her bra makes Yeji moan again.

She eventually brakes away due to the lack of air. She smiles back up at you, excitement sparkling in her eyes.

"Let me give you head."

Yeji slides off the edge of the desk, landing between your legs on her knees. You have to bite your lip as you watch Yeji unbuckle your belt.

"It has been so long since last time."

You chuckle at her eagerness as she pulls down your pants. Your cock springs free, landing on her beautiful face.

"Wow."

She gasps, like she does everytime.

You rub your cock all over her face. Yeji closes her eyes, enjoying the feeling of your cock.

You never met someone who was this passionate about worshipping your cock. But Yeji is one of a kind. She was more eager than skilled at first. But you've trained your friend's daughter to be your personal slut. One would never see Yeji as that, when they would meet her on the street. But she can be a naughty little devil in your ear. Especially when her family comes over, or you visit them. She always tries to sneak off with you. Just like right now.

Yeji starts to suck you off in your study. Her eyes are still closed in bliss as she savors the taste of your cock. Her blowjob becomes more messy by the second. Soon, she is almost drooling on your cock. You take a fistful of her gorgeous orange hair and you start to thrust into her mouth. Yeji moans, opening her mouth as wide as possible, relaxing her throat.

"Damn, princess."

You've always called her and her sister that. But since the two of you started having sex, this nickname has a another layer to it. A dirty one at that. Because right now, Yeji doesn't look like a princess at all. She is on her knees, drooling spit onto your cock, her thighs and the floor. Your dick starts to hit the back of her throat as you begin to thrust into her harder. Soon, only the sounds of her gags fill your study. It's a beautiful melody. One that you would love to hear every day.

Yeji takes your mouth fucking like the good girl she has been raised to be. No complaining, no dirty look, not even the hint of a struggle. She seems to be in her element.

You unfortunately don't have the stamina to keep up the pace for too long. Eventually, you have to slow down, enabling Yeji to take a proper breath through her nose. Spit is covering her chin by now. You keep thrusting into her mouth. Slow, but still with purpose. But Yeji's eyes slowly start to turn dark with lust. Signaling you that she can only hold out this long without getting touched.

After a while, you finally pull out of her completely. A tear is rolling down her cheek, which she scoops up with the back of one of her fingers. Yeji takes a moment to catch her breath properly.

"B-Bend me over."

Her voice sounds raspy and dry. Which is odd, because there is spit covering everything. Her chin, lips, shirt, thighs and the floor too.

"Your manners, Yeji."

You're reminded how often you said that years ago. When you had important visitors and the two sisters stayed at yours over the weekend.

"Sorry. Please, daddy?"

She pouts cutely. Like she always does, when she wants something.

"We still have to be quick though."

Luckily, you always keep your desk clean. Quickly putting your laptop to the side, you turn Yeji around afterwards.

"Daddy..."

She moans as she feels your hand pressing against her back, making her bend over the wooden surface. Since your desk is quite high and quite big, Yeji can barely hold onto the edge on the other side. And she has to lift her feet off the ground, if she wants to do so. Only her tiptoes stay in contact with your wooden floor.

You reach around her, quickly unbuttoning her white pants, pulling them off of her.

"You came prepared, I see."

The lack of underwear has an obvious meaning. Yeji wiggles her butt at you, tempting you to just enter her immediately.

"Just for you, daddy."

Everytime she calls you that, you can't help but think about how wrong this all is. She could be your own daughter. Buth there she is, bend over your desk, telling you what she wants you to do to her.

"Can you please fuck me now? I've waited the whole day for this. I need it..."

Yeji sighs in desperation, her cheek resting on the dark wood.

You stand behind her, aligning your cock with her wet folds. You can see them glistening, when you pull her cheeks apart a little.

"Fuck, Yeji."

You can't believe how beautiful she is. How good her body looks. You wait for just a little longer, making Yeji squirm in anticipation, before you finally push inside of her.

"Oh god!"

A deep moan echoes through your study as you part Yeji's walls. Her tight pussy is dripping wet, making it easy for you to slide into her completely. You wonder, how she is so turned on. Because of you? Because you're her dad's friend? Because she has been waiting for this all day?

You are not sure. But you can say that this makes up for all the bad attitude her sister threw in your direction today.

Soon, you find yourself indulging in the pleasure that you take from Yeji's young and tight body. Every part of her seems to be made with perfection. You can't help but let your free hand roam her body. The other one is holding her waist as you keep thrusting into her.

Reaching under her shirt, you grope her breasts. A string of moans escapes her mouth. One louder and dirtier than the previous one.

"Harder, daddy! Please!"

You finally give into her begging. You know, if you fuck her harder, you won't be able to keep your orgasm off for much longer. And you still want to enjoy more of her body.

"Get on the desk."

Yeji takes a moment to comprehend what you just said. But she eventually manages to peel herself off your desk. You turn her around and push her back on it. Now on her back, Yeji looks up at you as you start thrusting into her again.

"Yes, daddy!"

You reach forward, bunching her shirt up over her tits. You push the bra up as well, finally revealing her small perky tits. Your other hand is holding onto one of her luscious thighs. Fingers digging into her soft skin.

"Keep going..."

Yeji slowly starts to lose the ability to speak. Her words start to turn into letters loosely strung together. It tells you that she isn't far away from her own climax.

You play with her tits, kneading them and pinching a nipple occasionally.

"Oh..."

She tries to say something again, but your strong thrusts make her eyes roll back. Her head, just like her back, is rubbing against the wooden surface of the desk in the rhythm of your pounding.

Your own desire for release starts to overwhelm you. The sight of Yeji, squirming and moaning on the desk she used to sit on and watch you write a cute story for her, makes you want to ruin her completely. Both of your hands are now holding onto her full thighs, enabling you to pull her back into you way harder than before.

The sound of your skin hitting hers echo through your study, accompanied by the young girl's moans.

"Daddy! Cuming!"

Yeji cries out as the pleasure finally proves too much for her. Her body shakes atop your desk as her orgasm overwhelms her. You don't slow down, pounding her through her high as you chase your own. Yeji's body often has that affect on you. That desire to completely wreck her, leaving her a whining, dirty mess.

"Ohhh..."

Yeji's drawn out mix of moan and cry sounds like music to your ears. Her pussy contracts around you at the same time, demanding that you cum inside.

"Princess..."

You groan, realizing that you don't know if this is a safe day for her or not. You want to fill Yeji with your cum, but you don't want to knock up your friend's daughter. Yeji is too far gone to care at the moment. Her body keeps squirming on the wooden surface, moans leaving her body in irregular intervals. You try to hold on for longer, but you eventually can't stop yourself.

With the last ounce of strength you have left, you regretfully leave Yeji's snug hole. As you pull out, that last squeeze of Yeji's inner walls makes you explode. You shoot your load all over her body. Her midriff is the first thing that's covered in your cum. Her chest quickly follows as strings of your semen hit her tits.

You feel your legs weaken as you calm down yourself, taking in the view in front of you. Yeji lies on the desk, her eyes still partially closed. A light smile plays around her lips as her heavy breath makes her chest heave. Her upper body is painted with your cum as she just lies there. Like a beautiful painting. A piece of art.

You walk down the hallway, heading for the bathroom. Yeji kept you busy with her project after the two of you had some fun. She does need to finish it soon, which means you didn't lie earlier. You are really helping her.

Opening the door to the bathroom, you suddenly stop moving. You look at Karina, who is standing in the middle of the room.

You notice her phone, which is standing on the sink, leaning against the lower part of your mirror. Karina isn't just taking a normal picture. She has hooked a finger inside her cleavage and is pulling the hem of her dress down. Despite looking at her from the side, you can see her breasts, almost completely exposed, through the mirror.

"Karina. What the hell are you doing?"

You see the young girl jumping, when she hears your voice. She looks at you as she takes her hand off her dress, letting it fall back into place. You see her roll her eyes before answering.

"Nothing."

"This doesn't look like nothing to me."

"Whatever."

Despite her disgusting attitude, Karina is still your friend's daughter and Yeji's sister. You still care for her. You glance at her phone, before looking back at her.

"Were you taking pictures of yourself?"

"So what?"

She reaches for the phone.

"Are you sending them to someone?"

"Not your business."

You hold back the desire to just give her a small clap on the head. Just a really small one.

"Karina, you shouldn't send this to anyone, whom you don't trust."

"I can do what I want."

You nod.

"That's true. I'm just saying, please be aware of the consequences."

"Stop annoying me already."

Karina is obviously checking the photos she took, while you are still trying to talk to her.

"I wouldn't need to annoy you, if you wouldn't act like this."

She raises an eye brow, but keeps looking at her phone.

"You can't tell me what to do."

Karina places the phone back on the sink. She goes through her hair, looking at the mirror. She hasn't even looked at you properly yet since you came in. It makes your blood boil even more.

"Actually, I can. This is my house. Plus, I'm your godfather."

"Oh no, I'm scared."

You watch as she bites on her nail and winks at the phone. You hear it taking a picture. She probably used a timer or something.

You take a deep breath.

"Get out."

She keeps going as if she didn't hear you. When she is about to pull the top of her dress down again, you stop her by grabbing her arm.

"I. Said. Get out."

You speak through your teeth, trying to stay calm. You pull her towards the door.

"Ouch. Stop it!"

Karina uses both hands to push you away. You let go, expecting her to get her phone and walk out on her own. Your eyes widen when you see her standing in front of the mirror again, hooking a thumb underneath one of the straps on her shoulders, smiling at the phone.

"You can wait outside, you know."

You were already annoyed by her attitude during the meal earlier. Her manners are pretty much non existent. You managed to hold yourself back. And Yeji did an incredible job to make up for her older sister's behavior. But there is only so much you can take. If Karina was a couple of years younger, you would've just picked her up and carried her out. You used to do that, when she was being a brat at an younger age.

"Karina."

You realize your tone has become threatening. You reach out for her shoulder, wanting to stop her from letting the strap fall off of it. She swats your hand away. It lands in her hair. And before you can even think about it. You've already taken a fistful.

"One last time. Get. Out."

You growl into her ear.

"Let me go!"

She tries to push you away again, but this time you stay steady.

"Stop it. You know I'm stronger than you."

"I'm gonna tell dad!"

"So what? You think he is gonna like the fact you take this kind of pictures of yourself?

Karina winces as you tug at her hair a little too hard.

"Leave me alone you ass!"

She finally reached the limit. She broke the last wall of self restraint you had left.

You push her against the sink, slightly bending her over it. The both of you stare at each other in the mirror. She finally looks at you properly.

"Stop being a rude bitch first."

The words left your mouth before you could think about them. You planned on saying something different. They just came out. You almost expect Karina to cry, when you see her eyes grow wide.

"Fuck you!"

You were wrong.

Karina reaches behind her with one hand to push you away. The other holds onto the sink.

"No. Fuck you. You have no manners at all."

"So what, huh!?"

She glares at you through the mirror, slightly raising her chin.

"Apologize and behave properly. Or this will have consequences."

You used to say that line when the two sisters were younger. It always worked. You were like a fun uncle for them. Whenever you became this serious, they knew they did something wrong.

But now, Karina just scoffs.

"I'm not ten anymore. What are you gonna do? Punish me?"

"I will."

"Oh, please. I'm a grown woman. I can do what I want."

"Not under my roof."

You point at her phone.

"Delete the pictures you took and go downstairs."

"No."

"Karina..."

You growl, pushing her forward with your hand on the back of her head. She stumbles against the sink.

"Delete them."

"No."

Karina crosses her arms and glares at you, once she has regained her composure. You reach for it yourself. She tries to stop you, but you are too strong for her.

"Give it back!"

You take a step back and hold her in place. Since your arms are longer than hers, Karina can't reach for her phone.

You delete the first to pictures without even looking at them. But when you see more and more of them, you start to realize how sexy she looks in them.

What she lacks in manners and attitude, she seems to make up for with her body. You can't deny the fact that Karina's beauty rivals her sister's.

Once you are done, you look at her again.

"Did you seriously just delete all of them?"

Karina asks with disbelief in her voice.

"Yes. Now, get out."

"No. I need some content for this weekend. You just deleted like twenty pictures or something."

"What content?"

You furrow your eye brows.

"None of your business. Give me my phone back."

You ignore her outstretched hand, quickly scanning through the apps on her phone. You see a white icon with a blue O on it. You realize what she is doing.

"Are you serious?"

"What?"

You show her what you found.

"So? I need to pay my bills somehow."

"Does your father know about this?"

"Don't you dare."

Karina glares at you.

"Oh trust me. I will tell him."

"No way."

Now she finally looks a little concerned.

"Karina, you shouldn't be doing this. Just because you look nice, doesn't mean you have to sell your body for some money."

"You think I look nice?"

She mockingly raises and eyebrow.

"That's wasn't my point Karina."

"Come on, you can be honest. Do you know how much guys pay me for these pictures?"

"I don't give a fuck."

"But I do. If you are gonna tell on me, I'm gonna tell on you too."

"I'm a grown man and your dad's friend. What could you possible know about me that would be worth his time?"

"Hmm, I don't know. Maybe the fact his best friend rails his daughter on a regular basis?"

"What?"

You are too surprised to hide it. You and Yeji made sure that no one would find out. You were always careful. How...?

"See? Seems like I do have something of value."

"How do you know?"

"Me and Yeji share a dorm at college. Whenever she doesn't see you for longer than a week, she plays with herself, when she thinks I'm asleep. I can't believe she calls you daddy."

You close your eyes in disbelief. Yeji... Why does she have to be so fucking horny all the time?

"Fine. Alright. I won't tell on you. You won't tell on me."

A sly, victorious smile plays around Karina's lips.

"Deal."

"That doesn't change the fact that you are rude all the time."

"I'm not rude."

It's your turn to raise an eyebrow.

"I have my reasons."

You let go of her hair earlier. She crosses her arms in front of her, looking away.

"I don't care what your reasons are. So leave."

You gesture towards the door.

Karina doesn't move.

"You deleted all the pictures. I need new ones."

"I still don't like what you are doing. Leave."

She shakes her head.

"Help me with this."

You realize that your argument isn't flawless.

"You're my friend's daughter. No way."

"Seriously? You creampie my sister, but you don't want to fuck me?"

How are you going to get out of this?

"I'm not shooting a movie here or something. If you want someone to fuck you on camera, find a pornstar or something."

Karina rolls her eyes.

"That's where you draw the line?"

"Karina..."

She ignores you, taking the phone out of your hand.

"You don't need to do anything but fuck me. Shouldn't be that hard."

She sets the camera to record, before placing it back on the sink.

You think about it for a moment. It really isn't that hard. You are fucking Yeji already. So why not go all the way? It's not like she is gonna tell her dad.

Karina leans over the sink, looking back at you over her shoulder.

"Give it to me. Daddy."

That last word makes you jump into action.

It sounds so much different to when Yeji says it. The younger one uses more affection. Whenever she says it, you feel like she would do anything for you. Or rather your cock.

When Karina says it, it's sounds more lustful. Maybe even slightly condescending.

Yeji is the good girl, while Karina is the bad one.

You quickly unbuckle your belt and let your pants drop to the floor. Karina watches you through the mirror as you reach for the hem of her dress.

She glances at the phone, when she feels you pushing her dress up. You reveal her ass. Slightly bigger than Yeji's. You can't help but compare. Your hands wander over her skin. The same thrill you feel whenever you have sex with Yeji enters your body. The thrill of doing something forbidden. The fact that she is filming this makes it even hotter, now that you think about it.

"Don't tease me, daddy."

A knowing smile plays on Karina's lips.

You align your cock with her entrance. Her wet folds make it easy to slip inside. It seems like taking the pictures earlier turned her on.

"Damn, daddy."

Karina breaths heavily as you push inside. For some illogic reason you expected her to be not as tight as Yeji. You are proven wrong.

"Fuck you are tight."

You can't help but give her ass a rewarding spank.

"That's right daddy. Punish me for being such a slut."

You slap her again and again with every inch you push further into her. Karina moans whenever you do so. Her body is being pushed forward with every slap. Her ass cheeks jiggle deliciously.

Once you bottom out inside of her, you look at Karina in the mirror. Her half lid eyes stare back at you. She is biting her lip, trying to contain a loud moan.

You place both your hands on her waist, pushing down a little. Karina's back arches as a result, enabling you to push just a little bit further.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck."

It seems like you've reached her limit. Karina hisses as she tries to get accustomed to your cock.

"If I had known you are this big..."

She isn't able to finish her sentence, when you pull out of her.

You watch Karina's eyes roll back as your cock rubs against the length of her inner walls.

"Don't give me all the credit."

You chuckle as you push back inside.

"Fuck."

Another moan escapes Karina's lips.

"Am I tighter than my sister?"

A question you've never even dreamed of hearing. One so dirty, you never thought one of them would be able to say it.

"You are."

Your honest answer makes her smirk. You wipe it off her face a moment later. Because you start fucking her properly now.

"Holy shit."

Karina watches as you thrust into her again and again. Your hips snap against hers, making the sounds echo through the bathroom. She tries to silence herself once again by biting her lip, but your thrusts prove to be too much for her. Eventually, her mouth hangs open, lewd sounds coming from the deepest parts of her throat.

Your eyes, which were focused on her face, are now slowly wandering downwards. You get captivated by the way her tits move, while you fuck her. Reaching forward with one hand, you grope Karina's boobs over her dress.

They are bigger than Yeji's. You don't have to touch her to know it. It's obvious.

"You like mine more than my sister's. Right?"

Karina manages to ask another question like this.

"I would like you more if you would just shut up."

Another grin flashes across her face.

"If I'm still talking, you are just not fucking me hard enough."

You take it as a challenge. With one hand now in her hair and the other on her waist, you start to fuck Karina harder and faster. You push her against the sink with every thrust into her. A red line where she hits the sink appears on her skin.

"Look at yourself. Getting fucked in someone else's bathroom like a whore."

You don't know where these words came from. This situation, Karina herself, makes you do things you never thought of doing. You pull at her hair, forcing her to lift her head, which dropped between her shoulders earlier.

Karina's wide eyes stare at you as you take her from behind. Her tight walls squeeze you and try to stop you from leaving, whenever you pull back.

"Mmh, yes."

Karina moans, some spit falling out of her mouth in the process. She starts to lose her composure as you hit just the right spot with every single thrust. Her and Yeji's body feel similar to you. You can tell where her sensitive spots might be and you stimulate them properly, making a squirming mess out of the young woman.

You move your hand from her waist to her shoulders, quickly pulling the straps of her dress off. The upper half slips down her body, until the whole dress is bunched up right above her waist.

Karina's tits sway from side to side as you pound her from behind. You take one of them into your hand, squeezing it and earning another deep moan.

By now, you think Karina has forgotten about her phone. She seems to let herself go, submitting to your thrusts. Your hand keeps exploring her voluptuous chest, squeezing her tits and tugging at her nipples randomly.

Your cock in her pussy keeps hitting just the right spots. The combination of your pounding and your groping has Karina moaning and shivering. She watches herself getting fucked. It's something she starts to enjoy very much. Her pussy tightens even more around you in response.

You let your hand explore more of her body, while the other one keeps her head in place by holding her hair. You admire her collarbone and shoulders for a moment, before quickly moving past her chest. You feel the toned muscles of her stomach underneath your palm. As you keep fucking her and your hand moves further down, you could swear you can feel your cock through her belly.

You press against the spot and suddenly, Karina starts to shake more, her pussy squeezing you tighter.

"Daddy, fuck!"

It's the last words she manages to force out. From that moment onwards, Karina is a mumbling mess. You can't tell what she is trying to say. Her lips quiver uncontrollably. Her pussy is almost painfully tight as you feel more and more of her fluids leaking out of her.

Eventually, your hand reaches her clit. You start rubbing it, encouraging her with your fingers to cum on your cock. Karina's closed eyes shoot open. Saliva still drips from her parted lips.

"Ohhhh!"

A loud cry is the only thing she can do to announce her orgasm. Karina watches herself climaxing. She sees how her body twitches and squirms. How her muscles on her midriff seem to flex. She feels her own pussy tightening around your cock, contracting uncontrollably. Her arms and legs grow weak.

You keep fucking Karina through her orgasm. She can't do anything but take it. She can't tell you to stop. She tries to watch herself as long as possible. But when you somehow drive yourself into the deepest depths of her vagina, Karina's eyes roll to the back of her head. She sees stars, her mind eventually breaking from the pleasure.

You feel yourself chasing your own orgasm as you watch your friend's daughter through the mirror. Her breath has left fog on the glass. Only now do you realize her hands don't rest on the sink anymore. They are pressed against the surface of the mirror.

The sight of Karina like this slowly makes you reach your high.

"Fuck, Karina. Your pussy is gonna milk me dry."

You manage to push out the words as you try to hang on as long as possible. Her tight snatch keeps squeezing your cock, making it harder for you to properly fuck her like before.

"Let me taste your cum, daddy. I need it."

Karina's eyes reflect her desire and need for your cum. She almost unconsciously licks her lips.

You count to ten, trying to stay as long as possible inside of her. You want to savor every last second of her tight pussy wrapped around your cock.

But you have to pull out eventually. You leave the snug tightness of her snatch.

"Come here."

Karina drops to the tile covered floor, kneeling in front of you.

Just like you held Yeji an hour ago, you grab Karina's chin. But not to kiss her. You make her crawl towards the glass wall of your shower.

You press her cheek against it, signaling her to stay like this. The sight quickly makes you cum.

You start to shoot your load all over Karina's face. You paint her skin with your cum. She looked almost cute a moment ago. Now, she looks like a cheap whore.

"Fuck, that tastes good."

Karina is sucking her finger clean, after having scooped up some of your cum. You can't believe you came on both of your friend's daughters within two hours.

The older of the two now looks up at you, her tongue cleaning the cum off her face around her mouth.

"Would you like to become my partner for my content? You would get a cut off the profit."

"Karina-"

"You think we can convince Yeji to join us?"

"I don't think we should-"

"I think people are gonna be willing to pay if they know the two of us are actual sisters."

It feels like you are drowning in sin. It's bad enough you had sex with one of your friend's daughters more times than you could count. You now managed to fuck the older sister as well. And now she wants you to help her make money by filming you, fucking her and her sister?

"This isn't right Karina."

You try to do the right thing. But that ship has kinda sailed already. And you can't deny that a threesome with the two sisters would be mind blowing.

"Come on, daddy. You can do with me what you want. As long as we film it. And I'm pretty sure you are already using Yeji like a sex toy anyway."

[werezolft]

The Dead Boy Detectives (and crew), have been occupying my thoughts the past few weeks. I’ve watched the show on repeat, rewatched Sandman, actually started reading the Sandman graphic novels (currently on Seasons of Mist, the introduction of the Dead Boys), and I’ve started drawing the episodes in the style of old teen detective novels.

I started these before getting super into behind the scenes details. I went down a bit of a rabbit-hole last night, and was delighted to learn that show-runner Steve Yockey wanted the show to be reminiscent of The Hardy Boys, one of the main influences of these covers.

The accuracy of their depictions varies, I don’t think they always really look like themselves. But I had a lot of fun.

I hope to continue designing these for a bit while the obsession holds, and maybe I can properly bring in purples, Crystal’s hero color.

[Alt Text:

Image 1: A series of covers on a white background. From left to right, "The Case Of The Dandelion Shrine", "The Case Of Devlin House", "The Case Of The Dandelion Shrine" (alt cover), "The Case Of The Hungry Snake", and "The Case Of The Lighthouse Leapers".

Image 2: Three teenagers, Charles, Crystal and Edwin explore a blue green cave with a skull covered in dandelions on a center shrine. Charles holds a flashlight, Crystal is climbing in while her eyes have gone white during a psychic episode, and Edwin is playing lookout. At the top of the page in yellow italics is the text “Dead Boy Detectives” and below in off-white bold caps “THE CASE OF THE DANDELION SHRINE”.

Image 3: Edwin, Charles and Crystal peering around the corner of a yellow-green wooden hallway, looking at the silhouette of a man swinging an axe. They have varying worried expressions. At the top, in yellow italics is “Dead Boy Detectives” and in off-white bold caps “THE CASE OF DEVLIN HOUSE”.

Image 4: Crystal and Niko stare at each other across a green hallway. Niko has her left hand raised and is surrounded by glowing images, stars, hearts, moons, butterflies, rainbows, and sparkles. The cast a faint pink light. At the top in yellow italics is “Dead Boy Detectives”, and in off-white bold caps “THE CASE OF THE DANDELION SHRINE”.

Image 5: Charles and Edwin tied to chairs in a golden yellow room. Charles has an iron collar chained to his neck, and his wrists are bound. Edwin is in a white tank top, and his mouth is gagged with a clothe. On the wall is the shadow of the witch Esther, with her cane. In the corner is a large cabinet, Niko peers out of. On top of the cabinet is perched a crow, Monty. At the top, in yellow italics “Dead Boy Detectives” and in off-white bold caps “THE CASE OF THE HUNGRY SNAKE”.

Image 6: Edwin, Charles and Crystal stand on stairs overlooking the gray sea and red sky. A giant angler fish, Angie, is staring at them. In the corner, on top of the hill is a classic red and white striped lighthouse. At the top, in yellow italics “Dead Boy Detectives” and in off-white bold caps “THE CASE OF THE LIGHTHOUSE LEAPERS”.

Image 7: A series of book covers on a white background: “Alfred Hitchcock and the Three Investigators in The Secret of Skeleton Island”, “Nancy Drew Mystery Stories, The Ghost of Blackwood Hall”, “Nancy Drew, The Mystery at Lilac Inn”, “The Hardy Boys, While the Clock Ticked”, and “The Three Investigators in The Mystery of the Coughing Dragon”.

[ayyy-pee]

𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐃

Discord 18+ - Twitter

Pairing: Model!Shoko Ieri x Female Reader, Model!Utahime Iori x Female Reader, Shokohime x Female Reader

Summary: You're a top Public Relations manager covering Tokyo Fashion Week. All the drugs, sex and outrageous going ons never see the light of day. Why? Because it's your job to cover up scandal.

But that doesn't mean you can't have your own risky fun.

Story Warning: Smut, LESBIANS, Reader works in Public Relations, Mentions of Drugs, Mentions of hookups, Bath sex, Bathtub Threesome, Cunnilingus, Cum Eating, Profanity bc c'mon...it's me, Vaginal Bumping and Grinding, Referenced STRAP usage, Fingering, Secret Flings, Sneaky Sex, Dub-con? (Reader and ShokoHime have a few drinks...but do consent to sex), Sneaking Around, Secret Recordings

Art by: Cake__Sensei (Twitter)

A/N: I FINALLY finished something for my Jujutsu Journal Collab Event! I hope yall enjoy!!! Thank you to everyone participating and for everyone who has helped me to reach 3k followers!!!

You’ve always loved the fast paced feel of Tokyo Fashion Week. The bright lights flashing and catching every crease and detail of the fabrics on display. The music thumping and crowd cheering as the models strut down the runway. The chaos backstage as everyone rushes to slip in and out of the next garment in time for their cue. Yes, you loved being a part of that feeling, you loved capturing that feeling. Because it was your job to catch every crease and detail, the sexy walks of the models, the mayhem that happens behind the scenes while the audience patiently waits.

It’s exhilarating, really. Being invited to such elite and exclusive events has changed your life in ways you could have never imagined. When you first started your career in fashion, you would have never dreamed of making it this far. This was worlds away from filming street fashion on your shitty little cell phone and interviewing small time designers. But you’ve worked so hard, worked even smarter and have networked your way to the top of your department.

And now, you're the head of the PR team for one of the top fashion magazines in Japan, currently assigned to cover the after party of Tokyo Fashion Week to collect enough content for a post show documentary.

The after party is as wild as you’d imagined it would be. The ritziness and glam of the actual fashion show can hardly be found here. It’s all thumping loud music, raunchy dancing and paraphernalia scattered across various surfaces. 

Looking for sweaty bodies bumping and grinding in off the runway Dior? You’ll find it here. 

Want to catch someone snorting a line in vintage Chanel? Just turn your head in any direction, really. 

Can you see a pair of this season’s YSL heels peeking out from around the corner where someone is on their knees giving the sloppiest blowjob? Absolutely.

And it’s your job to make sure that what’s happening here never sees the light of day.

You love scandal, because it gives you a job, pays your bills and keeps your lights on and food in your fridge. As long as some celebrity is getting into shit they’re not supposed to, you’ll always have a job. But outside of work, you loathe scandal, avoid it at all costs because the biggest cost would be your career. Sure, you’ve joined in on the fun, partook in scandalous behavior from time to time, but you’re always careful. There are never any traces, never any receipts, never any damning evidence that could lead back to you.

No one will ever know that you spent a weekend in Bali with famous pop musician Satoru Gojo while his wife waited patiently for him to return from “filming” a new music video.

They will also never know about your brief tryst with his best friend, Suguru Geto in Nara, Seoul and Bora Bora. Not even Satoru.

And your romantic holiday trip with award winning actress Yuki Tsukumo? As far as everyone else knows, it never happened.

See, you were that damn good at your job. That’s why you were the head of your PR team, after all. It’s why you knew exactly where to direct your videographer to point their camera. You spot the rolled dollar bills and white lines before they can react, finger pushing the camera sideways to focus on something else.

Lo and behold, it points to a group of models standing casually off to the side of the party as they mingle with guests. You recognize one face among the crowd, those deep purple bags beneath his eyes highlighted by the flashing neon lights.

It’s Choso, a model, with his hair up in space buns, a part of his styling. He’s dressed to the nines in the most stylish streetwear of the season, his signature Prada combat boots on. 

You’ve known Choso for quite some time, often running into each other at these afterparties. Years ago, in the early hours of the morning, you’d clumsily attempted a drunk hookup. Every kiss, every touch, every attempt to work each other up to something more amounted to nothing. It ended with you both tangled in each other’s arms, falling apart with laughter. And so, you’d decided you were better off as friends, and had become quite close since. It worked better for you both that way. You just weren’t into each other like that.

But Choso has been a good friend to you. You often find yourself hanging out together after the chaos of the fashion show has died down and a new session of mayhem has begun for the afterparty. You haven’t seen him in months, but that doesn’t seem to make a difference because Choso spots you easily behind the camera and waves you over to his group of friends.

“Haven’t seen you since Paris,” he calls out to you as you approach. He slings an arm around your shoulders, hugging you tightly to his chest and pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“I know! I’ve missed you!” You yell back. “How have you been?”

“Not too bad, not too bad at all. Dating someone now!”

You lean back in his hold, brows rising to your hairline. “You? In a relationship?” 

You’re shocked. You’ve seen Choso go through different women, but never heard him refer to whoever he was seeing as dating. He nods, just as one of the most beautiful women you’ve ever laid eyes on approaches you two. Her lips quirk into a pretty smile and you can tell right away that she’s not a model. The smile is far too genuine, but that’s not to say she couldn’t be one if she wanted. She’s stunning, with smooth caramel brown skin and braids that fall down her back, and big brown eyes that you can already see Choso getting lost in as he pulls away from you to wrap his arms around her waist. He peers down at her, the awe apparent in his gaze. Like he just can’t believe he’s got her.

“Hey, babe,” he mutters just before his lips meet hers in a hungry kiss.

Oh, he’s in love, love.

Choso introduces you to his babe, Kamila and she’s as sweet as she looks. But you don’t get to talk to her much, because Choso is not willing to spend any time he’s not obligated to away from his love. You don’t blame him. She’s breathtaking. You can’t help but smile, watching as Choso and his girlfriend completely forget they’re at this party together, surrounded by people. 

Which is fine, because it’s about time to wrap it up yourself so that you and your crew can also take time to enjoy the rest of the festivities.

Turning to your associate, you signal for them to hand you their camera. They quickly switch it off before placing it in your hands. “Go party,” you tell them, dismissing them for the night. “Nothing crazy,” you add. “And if it gets crazy, make sure there’s nothing that can be traced back to the company. And if something happens that can be traced back to the company, call me.”

They know the rules. They’re the same ones you follow and the same ones the company practically beat into your skull when you were first brought on. So far, they’ve worked for you. No one has been able to outsmart any of you. Your team is solid.

“Got it boss,” your cameraman exclaims. Then they’re off to get into whatever trouble the night has in store for them.

And while you’re pondering what trouble you can get into, it seems to find you first.

“Boss, huh?” A sweet voice questions behind you. You spin around to see Choso and his girlfriend are now nowhere in sight. Instead, you’re face to face with two of the most alluring women you’ve ever laid eyes on. They’re dressed in skin tight dresses that leave little to the imagination, their long legs exposed and damn they look good. You recognize them from the show and from the model roster.

The beautiful slender one with the cute little beauty mark beneath one of her tired eyes – Shoko Ieiri. She’s got a bit of an intimidating aura and a smile that has your heart pounding rapidly behind your ribcage. She’s a bit scary. And admittedly, you find it sexy. 

You’ve never spoken to Shoko. The models are usually too busy working and racing around backstage to have much time to mingle. By the time the show’s over, they’re either back in their rooms or out at whatever party they can get into. But have also never heard anything negative about Shoko from any contacts in the industry, which speaks volumes to you. You hear everything. It’s easy for anyone to get their hands on anything if they try hard enough.

When there’s nothing to find, it means they’re good at keeping their dirt swept under the rug. Those are the types of people you get along best with.

Then, there’s the slightly shorter one, with a rough scar that runs from one side of her face to the other in contrast to her soft features – Utahime Iori. She’s as striking as Shoko – curvy and looks soft in all the right places. 

Again, nothing crazy about Utahime. You’ve heard she’s quite the hothead, which would be quite interesting if it were true. She has a less intimidating air about her. Her big brown eyes make her seem sweeter than the woman standing beside her. It makes her all the more intriguing to you.

Regardless, they both have their pretty gazes on you and for a split second, you feel the roles reverse. In this world, you’re at the top of the food chain. Everyone else is the prey. Because you could spin any story, take any insult slung your way and crush your target. Because no one had anything on you. But for some reason, as these two women stare you down, Utahime with her bottom lip pulled between her teeth and Shoko puckering her lips around the butt of a cigarette, you feel like they could destroy you.

And if there’s one thing you love, it’s a woman who feels dangerous.

So when Shoko asks if you’d like to join her and Utahime for some drinks, you really can’t say no. And you don’t want to.

- - - - - - - - -

“What’d you think of the show?” Utahime asks eagerly. You’re all seated on one of the expensive velvet sofas on the second floor of this club. Shoko has made herself comfortable, leaning back against the arm of the chair. And you’ve made yourself even more comfortable, seated between her long legs and leaning against Shoko’s chest while Utahime sits next to you, idly playing with your fingers.

You take a slow sip of your drink. It’ll probably be your last for the night. From the moment you laid eyes on these two, you knew what direction you wanted the night to go. You want to be sober enough to enjoy it.

Utahime peers up expectantly at you with those big brown eyes of hers, long lashes curling cutely and it makes your cheeks heat. The alcohol is not helping with how easily your body is responding.

“It was really good,” you finally answer. Utahime beams, a little smile beginning to grow on her lips.

“Really?” She asks, and you nod. “We did good?”

Behind you, you feel the vibration of Shoko’s chuckle rumble against your back. And as you stare down into Utahime’s eyes, it’s clear why.

Okay. This one likes praise, you note mentally. You nod again. “So good.” And you’re unable to stop the smile forming on your lips when Utahime’s grin widens. She looks over to Shoko, who lazily takes a drag of another cigarette, blowing her smoke out of the side of her mouth to avoid suffocating you. Her long fingers trail absentmindedly up and down your arm as she listens to you and Utahime continue on about the show.

You’ve noticed that Shoko isn’t very talkative. She’s more observant than anything and while that would usually bother you, there’s something about Shoko that puts you at ease. Like you can put your life in her hands and can be confident you would be alright. Maybe it’s because everything around you is always so busy, always so loud. Her silence feels grounding amongst the chaos. 

But you also find her silence a little funny since she and Utahime seem to be so close. Utahime seems more the party type than Shoko does. She’s outgoing and friendly, warm and inviting. It’s such a stark contrast to Shoko, and yet they’re always with each other. Even earlier in the night, if Shoko went to the bar, Utahime was right behind her, telling you they’d be right back before chasing after her. If Utahime wanted to dance, Shoko was next to her. You suppose opposites do attract.

You suspect they’re more than just colleagues or friends and you file that tidbit away in your mind. If the night is headed where you want it to go, where you suspect it’s going to go, you need to collect any pertinent information you can beforehand. 

Just in case.

“Ugh,” Shoko groans, leaning forward suddenly to smash her half finished cigarette into the ashtray on the side table next to her. “All this noise is making my head hurt.”

Utahime nods in agreement. “It has been a long day…” She sits straighter, grasping your hand tightly she asks, “Should we get going?”

Damn, you think. You’re a little disappointed to think the night is ending here. “Are you two heading home?” You’re sure the frown on your face is clear, even in the darkness of the venue. You don’t want them to go yet.

Shoko snorts, shaking her head. She leans back against the chair, looping an arm around your waist and pulling you back onto her. “No,” she breathes, and she’s so close to your ear, you can feel her breath ghost along your skin, can smell the faint mixture of nicotine and spearmint. “We don’t live anywhere near here,” she explains, fingers gliding along your skin again. “Hime and I got a reservation at one of those onsen hotels up the street.”

“It’s really nice from the pictures I saw online,” Utahime adds, a cheerful lilt to her tone when she speaks. “Can’t wait to get there.”

You can feel the shift in the atmosphere when those words leave her lips. The air is thick, heavy. You’re familiar with this feeling. You know it all too well, and your heart races in your chest. Behind you, you feel Shoko’s body tense up briefly before she relaxes.

Then Utahime is crawling along your form, moving closer to you, closer and closer, and you think she’s going to try and kiss you. And damn it, you’d let her…if it was you she was aiming for. Instead, you watch, eyes blown wide with curiosity and honestly, desire as Utahime presses her plush lips to Shoko’s. Normally, you’d be elated to know your hunch was correct, that they were in fact more than friends, but you can’t seem to care when you see their lips connect. Their kiss is sweet at first, just a few light pecks, quiet sighs between them. Until Utahime grins into the kiss, pulling back slightly to giggle at the way Shoko’s brows knit together. Shoko frowns, bringing a hand up to grip Utahime’s long chocolate tresses.

“Don’t tease me, Hime,” she breathes through gritted teeth. Then she’s pulling Utahime’s face to hers, smashing their lips together for a messy, passionate kiss. And all you can do is watch as their tongues slip into each other’s mouths, breaths heavy as they quietly moan into each kiss. It’s so sexy, the way Utahime whimpers. How Shoko nips at Utahime’s already swollen lips. How Shoko pulls you tighter against her, pressing your ass against her groin.

You’re not sure if it’s the drinks you’ve had with these girls, the cigarettes or the scent of their perfumes that has your head swimming. Hell, maybe it’s a mixture of it all, but you’re so turned on watching these beautiful women kissing in front of you. All of their lust being poured into each slot of their lips, every groan and whimper between them, it’s all so arousing. You squeeze your thighs together, prompting a soft chuckle from the woman behind you. Shoko breaks away from the kiss, releasing her hold on Utahime’s hair who pouts cutely, sitting back on her knees.

“Don’t look so sad, Hime,” Shoko coos. She turns her attention back to you. “Just seemed like someone wanted to join us.”

And you do. You want to join them real fucking bad.

But when Shoko leans forward, just trying to press a kiss to your neck, your brain suddenly crawls out of the fog. You’re out in the open, in a compromising position with two models, at that. So you move, a hand flying up to push Shoko back a little.

Her brows furrow, head tilting in confusion and she releases her hold on you. “Oh– Sorry, I didn’t mean to assume…I just thought–”

“No you’re right,” you reassure them. Your eyes dart around the venue, and while everyone is likely drugged up or too drunk out of their minds to notice three girls feeling each other up in the club, you can never be too careful. “Just…not here. Let’s go back to your hotel.”

Shoko looks at Utahime, who stares at you two with eager eyes and a smile that would melt anyone’s heart. “Okay! Let’s go!”

- - - - - - - - -

Shoko checks you all into the hotel, and the room is as beautiful as you’d imagine it would be. There’s a main bedroom with a fluffy king bed ready to be slept in…or not. Off to the side of the room is a small dining area, and through large glass doors is the onsen bath, the water already run by the hotel staff for you. It screams luxury. You can see the steam curling from the water and god, if you couldn’t use a bath to wash away the day.

You set your bag and camera down on the dining table. Stretching your arms over your head, you take in the room, moving across the space. “This hotel is fucking incredible,” you gasp. “I can’t believe your agency spoils you guys like this.”

Shoko laughs, kicking her heels off and setting them in the little armoire by the entrance. “Right? I was surprised myself. Make yourself at home,” she tells you from the other side of the room.

She didn’t have to tell you twice. You couldn’t wait to crawl into that bed and – 

“What’s this for?”

You peek over your shoulder, eyes landing on Utahime fumbling around with the camera and panic sets in. You cannot lose that footage. “Please don’t touch that!” It comes out more forcefully than you intended and Utahime sets the camera down quickly, holding her hands up defensively. 

“Sorry!”

You rush toward her, only to be stopped in your tracks by Shoko, who places her hands on your shoulders. “Hey, relax. She was just looking.” She fixes you with a small smile, running her hands soothingly along your arms. And it does calm you, the earlier fear you felt melting away. “Be glad you caught her before she dropped it.” Shoko shakes her head, releasing your shoulders before she turns, moving towards the other woman. Utahime stands still, watching and waiting as Shoko slips behind her easily. Shoko’s fingers pinch the zipper of Utahime’s dress and drag it along the fabric until her dress slowly loosens around her chest and your gaze falls to the movement. “She can be careless sometimes,” Shoko speaks softly. Her fingers glide along Utahime’s collarbone, dragging down to the swell of her breasts. “Don’t mind her.” 

Shoko spins around, and Utahime follows, gently pushing Shoko’s hair aside. She presses a soft kiss to the back of Shoko’s neck and you watch as she trails kisses along the side of Shoko’s neck, pulling quiet sighs from the taller woman as she pulls the zipper until the fabric falls to the floor, revealing her bare slim form. Shoko turns back around and captures Utahime’s lips with hers, only breaking away to whisper, “Be more careful, okay?” before she’s back on her.

And all you can do is watch, the nerves you felt earlier about the camera now melted away. Beneath the soft lighting of the hotel room, they look like ethereal beings. Too innocent to be partaking in such salacious behavior. Arousal pools in your core as the vision of the two model’s tongues tangling sends you spiraling. Have you ever been so turned on, so eager to touch someone, to feel their body on yours? Even your nights spent with the most famous celebrities never had you so tempted to slip your hands into your panties.

It’s the way Shoko holds onto Utahime’s form against her own. How she reaches a hand up to pull down the loosened fabric against Utahime’s chest. How Utahime becomes exposed, her supple breasts falling gently. Utahime’s soft whimpers when the chill air ghosts along her pretty pink nipples, the buds puckering when Shoko rolls them gently between her fingers.

Shoko sighs, pulling away reluctantly. “You’re so pretty,” she whispers, hands kneading Utahime’s breasts. “So beautiful. My perfect girl.”

You can see the way Utahime’s eyes light up from across the room, a shy smile lifting the corners of her lips. “No, you,” she teases and Shoko chuckles.

Her heated gaze finds yours from across the room, how you’re watching them intently with desire clear in your eyes. Utahime follows her line of sight, and it’s clear to her what Shoko wants. She raises her hand, inviting you over to join. And you don’t hesitate. Like magnets drawn to each other, your legs carry you to them with ease.

Both women welcome you, the anticipation clear. They want this just as badly as you do, and for a moment, you wonder if their panties are just as soaked as yours. They’ve been kissing each other, touching each other, getting to taste and enjoy each other while you’ve gotten the pleasure of watching from the sidelines. Now you’re about to partake in these pleasures with them. You’re more excited than you care to admit.

Utahime takes your hand, guiding you closer and closer until you’re standing right in front of her. “Are you okay with this?” She asks, eyes locked on your parted lips and you nod your consent.

“Yes, I want this.”

Utahime’s bright eyes travel to Shoko, who watches you both with hardly concealed interest. 

“This stays here, though. Right?” 

You want to be sure before moving forward. Not that you were concerned, but better to have heard it with your own ears.

”Of course,” Shoko confirms. She bites down on her lip before looping an arm around your waist. Now she has both you and Utahime in her hold. “Now kiss her.”

The command has your core aching. You’ve wanted nothing more than to know what it felt like, tasted like, to kiss them. Didn’t matter who first or if it was both at the same time. You just wanted to feel their lips on yours.

And you do, when Shoko dips her head down to bury her face in your neck just as Utahime presses her mouth on yours. The moment their mouths connect with your skin, your body ignites with heat. Utahime is an amazing kisser. She has pretty, plush and soft lips that easily mold against yours. And she makes cute little noises when your tongues touch.

Shoko on the other hand, is a bit rougher, hungrier with her kisses. When she cups your cheek and breaks your kiss with Utahime by turning your head, she’s quick to nip at your lips. Her tongue slips into your mouth the second you let out a moan. While you and Shoko are heavily making out, Utahime takes this time to grab your hands, laying them against her large breasts.

“Touch me,” she sighs, squeezing your hands beneath hers and moaning at the applied pressure. 

You oblige, hands running lightly over the hardened buds and you revel in the way Shoko moans a quiet “I love the way you play with her tits…” into your mouth. “I wanna see you play with her pussy later.” You whimper into the kiss, her confession making your cheeks heat. You’ll admit, this is your first threesome. It’s hard to focus, your mind is so foggy with the arousal building in your core. It’s all too much – too much movement, too much touching, too much sound and way too much going on with your own body.

Your lips tingle, almost numb from how hard and greedily Shoko kisses you. Your skin vibrates with the way Utahime is practically helping you to play with her breasts. And your panties are probably dripping with arousal right now. You are desperate to cum.

“We should get into the bath,” Utahime groans when you cup her breasts. She leans forward, nudging Shoko away from your lips. Shoko gives her hardly any space at all, taking one side of your mouth while Utahime takes the other. Then it’s all three of your tongues tangling together in this sloppy, wet kiss. 

Though you’re all reluctant to break away, Shoko moves first, stepping back enough to grab the hem of your shirt and peel it off of you, forcing Utahime back as well. You’re all breathing heavily, flushed and aroused beyond measure, but you still nod. “Yeah, let's get in bath…” 

++++++++++

“Have you been with a woman before?” Shoko asks, lacing her fingers between yours as she guides you into her lap. You straddle her, though you don’t sit fully on her lap yet.

You’ve all slipped into the warmth of the deep hotel bathtub. Shoko sits half submerged on the bathtub’s built-in bench with her back against the tub’s wall. If your body was burning up before, it’s on fire now, your pulse racing after spending the last few minutes lathering each other’s bodies and kissing until your lips hurt.

“I have.”

Shoko’s brows rise, almost as if she’s surprised by the confirmation. “Two women?”

You shake your head. Nevertheless, Shoko grins as she asks, “Well? The one you’ve been with…How was it?” She pulls you closer, until your lips are hovering barely over hers, breaths mingling. “Did you enjoy yourself?”

The question hangs heavy between you two. It’s not as though answering this question would implicate you in any way, or give them any clues as to who the last woman you slept with was. So you answer honestly, just barely above a whisper. “Yeah, it was pretty good.”

Utahime giggles, gliding through the water to close the distance between you all. “She’s so cute, Shoko.” 

Shoko cups your face, eyes cast down to your lips. “She is, isn’t she?” She runs her thumb along your lip teasingly before she declares, “I can give you something better than pretty good.” 

“Yeah?” You challenge her.

“Yeah, she can,” Utahime confirms. “We can.” She closes the gap between you all, placing her hands on your waist from behind. You feel her wet breasts press against your back and your eyes flutter closed. Utahime is curvy in all the right places. You are no better than a man, more than turned on by the feeling of her pressed against you. Your absolute favorite part about her is her pretty, large breasts. You can’t wait to have her nipples in your mouth.

Utahime places light kisses along your skin, along your neck, moving so that she’s on her knees beside you and Shoko. She adjusts her height smoothly so that she sits a little taller, enough so that she can cup the back of your head and pull you to her chest. Your lips latch onto her nipple quickly, eagerly and she gasps, back arching and pushing her breast further into the cavern of your mouth. You hum against her, tongue rolling the pert bud. She tastes of the strawberry body wash you just rinsed off of her. You’re so distracted, moving back and forth between Utahime’s breasts that you don’t notice Shoko slipping a hand between the other woman’s thighs beneath the water. Not until Utahime cries out, hands coming up to find purchase on your shoulders. 

And Shoko, the bitch that she is, places her other hand on your thigh and guides you to sit down, mouth falling open with a soft moan when your hips connect under the bath water. Shoko rolls hips, brushing her core with yours and grinning as she watches your mouth fall agape against Utahime’s breast. She does it again, smiling wide when a small whimper falls from your lips. Then she keeps doing it, keeps grinding herself against you until your thighs are trembling, and you’re nothing but a puddle clinging to Utahime’s waist.

And Utahime, she’s not any better off. Shoko’s fingers are slowly working her towards her release. She’s already been pent up, teased and turned on since you’d all gotten together at the nightclub. Now, as Shoko scissors her fingers inside her sex, presses her palm to her clit, Utahime only inches closer to the edge. 

The smaller woman pushes you from her chest, her hands cupping your face so she can capture your lips with hers. And you’re so overstimulated, your mind reeling while the water sloshes with every thrust of Shoko’s hips. Shoko gently cups one of your breasts, rolling your nipple between her thumb and forefinger, moaning as she feels your clits brush against each other repeatedly. She sighs sweetly watching as you ride her, all while Utahime rides her hand while her lips slot against yours.

“You’re so soft,” Utahime breathes, tongue pushing past your lips to press against your own wet muscle. One hand finds the back of Utahime’s head, fingers tangling in her soft tresses and you hear Shoko moan beneath you, her hips slamming into yours. Your tongue tangles messily with Utahime’s, all saliva and groans as Shoko moves you against her. Water splashes over the sides of the tub. You can’t be bothered to care about the mess you’re all making. Not when this feels so good, not when Utahime kisses you like this, not while Shoko makes her sob into your mouth, not when you can feel the delicious tension beginning to build in your core. 

“Fuck, ah – you’re both so sexy…” Shoko groans. “Love watching you kiss each other. So fucking sexy…Play with my tits while I fuck her, Hime.”

Without breaking the kiss, Utahime grasps one of Shoko’s breasts, tweaking her nipple and grinning against your mouth when Shoko gasps loudly. Her thrusts come faster, head falling back as she moans.

“Ahh…Shoko…you make such pretty sounds, baby.” Utahime coos and you whimper, eyes rolling back when your cunt slides against Shoko’s deliciously. “You do, too,” Utahime tells you, kissing you one last time before breaking away to lean down and kiss Shoko now.

All the while, Shoko never stops her movements. It’s like she’s an expert with her hands because she never loses hold of your hip, guiding you against her while she fucks her fingers into Utahime with her other hand. The room is full of the lewd sounds of you three whimpering, moaning, and whining at the shared intimacy. If there’s anyone in the rooms next to you, they may complain, but you’re not worried about that. You’re more concerned with the way Utahime’s voice rises several octaves, her cheeks pink and eyes squeezed shut.

“Gonna cum?” Shoko groans. “C’mere. C’mere, baby,” Shoko stops moving, gently pulling her fingers from Utahime’s pussy. She’s so gentle with the other woman as she adjusts herself so that she’s able to lean her head back enough for Utahime to stand between you and her, legs spread as she settles her knees on the edge of the tub, positioning her core over Shoko’s face. You’ve got a nice view of Utahime’s pretty round ass, and an even better view of Shoko pressing a passionate kiss to Utahime’s cunt, tongue running through her folds, lips wrapping around Utahime’s swollen bud.

Utahime gasps, moaning breathlessly when Shoko sucks her clit hard, then teases it with the tip of her tongue. Your hands play idly with Shoko’s nipples, eyes locked on the way Shoko devours Utahime, like she’s never tasted something sweeter in her life. It’s such an arousing vision. Utahime’s thighs begin to tremble and you’re grateful for the platform of the bath, where Utahime falls forward onto her hands. She’s on all fours, riding Shoko’s face. 

“Shokoooo, ooh–,” she hisses through gritted teeth. “Gonna fucking cum, babe,” she warns, and Shoko’s lips wrap around her clit again, humming loudly as she gives Utahime’s ass a harsh smack. This has Utahime’s body spasming, a high pitched cry leaving her as she reaches her peak. And as you watch Shoko drive Utahime over the edge with just her tongue, you’re unsure if it’s the water from the bath or Utahime’s release that’s running down Shoko’s face, absolutely soaking the taller woman’s chin.

“Fuck,” you moan quietly, eyes locked on the sexy sight before you. Your clit throbs beneath the surface. Maybe Shoko feels it, because she picks her movements back up after returning both hands to your hips. Your cunt slips and slides against Shoko’s again and this time, after watching Utahime fall apart on Shoko’s tongue, you’re even more aroused and eager to reach your own release. It’s not too far off, only getting closer as you watch Utahime shudder while Shoko continues making out with her pussy.

When it’s clear Utahime is spent, she climbs off of Shoko and slips back into the water, gliding through the liquid to position herself behind you where she begins kissing along your neck again. Her hands finds your breasts and she kneads them gently from behind, the motion such a contrast to the way Shoko is roughly fucking you again.

And once more, you’re all whimpering, hands roaming each other’s bodies. Grabbing soft flesh and squeezing anywhere you can that pulls sweet noises. You’re riding Shoko hard, desperately trying to cum. Each stroke of your clit against hers has you reeling, the sweet sensation pushing you closer and closer to your climax.

“I’m jealous,” Utahime pouts cutely. “Shoko gets to fuck you so good. I wanna fuck you, too.” 

You can’t do anything but whimper pathetically at the aspect of your legs crossed with Utahime’s. Shoko’s moans follow. “I wanna see you fuck her, baby.” She thrusts her hips up, a loud moan rushing past your lips. “You wanna fuck Hime, too? She eats pussy so good.”

“God, yes!” You cry, eyes closed as you focus on your impending climax.

“We have plenty of time tonight,” Utahime assures you. “Maybe we can even do this another time.”

“Oh, I’d love that. Get to see this pretty pussy again,” Shoko grunts, eyes locked on the way your tits bounce with every roll of your hips. “God, even in the water, your pussy is so fucking wet.”

Utahime groans, pouting further. “Stopppp, Shoko. I already said I’m–”

“Gonna cum,” Shoko whines. “Oh my god, I’m gonna cum!”

Shoko leans forward suddenly, grasping you by the back of your neck and pulling you close so she can crash her lips into yours. The mixture of Shoko's taste and the tang of Utahime’s cum on Shoko’s tongue has your eyes rolling back, and you’re toppling over. Your orgasm hits you like a freight train, the tension and build up throughout the night finally snapping the band that had been coiling in your core for the last several hours.

Your arms wrap around Shoko’s shoulders as you keen into each other's mouths, riding out your highs.

“Oh wow…” Utahime rubs small circles on your back. “That was…really hot.”

You’re catching your breath, Shoko still holding onto your hips tightly. Her hair is stuck to her forehead, a sweaty mess that somehow looks even more beautiful this way.

“We’re gonna need another bath,” she chuckles.

The night carries on with much of the same taking place. After the bath (and second bath), the three of you fall into bed, quickly finding yourselves tangled in the sheets.

++++++++++

The next morning, you’re awakened by the sound of your phone buzzing incessantly on the hotel table. Your head is pounding and you’re not sure if it’s the couple glasses of wine you had, or the dehydration from the many orgasms both women pulled from you last night. Probably a mixture of both.

Speaking of Shoko and Utahime, you stretch carefully in bed, remembering you all fell asleep with you sandwiched between them. But you’re left confused when you don’t feel a warm body on either side of you. You open your eyes slowly, wincing when the early morning rays of sun feel like a punch to the forehead. But even the aching in your skull isn’t enough for you to ignore that you appear to be alone in a hotel room that is not yours.

You crawl out of bed, peering around the room. “Hello?” You call out, and it feels like your voice is echoing, bouncing off the walls of this quiet room. You check the bathroom and find it’s empty. You check the closet and don’t see any evidence that clothes were inside last night. “Maybe they just had to leave,” you murmur to yourself. Because it helps soothe the nagging feeling you have sitting in the pit of your stomach at the moment.

Shrugging off the feeling, you go about your morning as you normally would. You shower, brush your teeth, dress in the clothes you’d come over in last night and plan on heading back home to report back to work.

Your phone is still buzzing when you’re about ready to head out. You finally pick it up, unlocking the device and seeing a plethora of missed calls as well as several text messages from some of your team members and associates.

Associate 1: Where are you?

Associate 1: 911!! Please pick up!

You roll your eyes, wondering what trouble they’d gotten into last night. What mess will you have to clean up this morning?

Associate 3: PLEASE ANSWER THE PHONE

Director: You need to call me.

Director: NOW.

Slight panic begins to set in, and you continue scrolling through your messages. There’s one from an unknown number, sent in the early hours of the morning. You open the message, eyes practically bulging out of your head when you see the contents.

Unknown: No hard feelings, okay? We really needed the exposure so we could get booked for more shows. Thanks for last night! - H

Another text comes through, and you think you might be fucking sick when you read it. It’s a link to a news article for…Jujutsu Journal? Stupid ass name, but it’s a gossip blog so what did you expect? 

The page has screenshots of a very familiar scene. You and the models in the bath. You and Utahime on the bed with your heads thrown back in ecstasy. A blurred pic, censoring what may be the dirtiest of all – you bent over the bed on all fours, with your face buried between Utahime’s legs while Shoko (and her lilac colored strap) destroy you from behind. 

Where the absolute hell would they get these?!

The headline reads:

TAKING RELATING TO THE PUBLIC TO A WHOLE NEW LEVEL! Head Public Relations manager for one of Japan’s top fashion magazines is in quite a pickle! This morning Jujutsu Journal received EXCLUSIVE footage of her in various intimate positions with models Shoko Ieiri and Utahime Iori! Rumor has it these two are already booked and busy. Meanwhile, it looks like this Public Relations manager may soon be booted and broke! Want to see the tape? Click here to sign up for exclusive members only access!

The pieces begin to connect, your mind flashing back to just last night. The camera is right where you left it the night before. Well, where Utahime left it. But when your fingers push the button to open the tape cartridge, you find it empty. All the footage from the night before is gone! You feel like you may faint. All these years of being so careful, at least twenty steps ahead. All the progress you’ve made…gone.

And not just that! Now there’s a sextape of you three floating around the internet! Is that why Utahime was fumbling around with the camera? Why Shoko went out of her way to distract you? So that she could buy Utahime time to turn the camera on and hit record? Is that why they showed so much interest in you in the first place? Everything is beginning to make more and more sense, while simultaneously making less and less sense. You’re so confused.

“What the fuck?” You mutter to no one but yourself.

Your phone buzzes. You’re scared to look, but you know you should.

“What…the…fuck…” You still can’t believe this is happening. To you of all people.

Your eyes see the name light up on your screen. It’s your boss.

There’s no way you’ll be able to spin this one. 

[the-boy-meets-evil]

all roads lead back to you | c.sc (scoups)

(where you take an annual cabin trip with your friends and your ex decides to join this year)

pairing: ex!seungcheol (scoups) x f!reader genre: exes to lovers | angst, smut rating: explicit - minors DNI word count: ~10.6k warnings: these are exes and the relationship ended badly, but we're healing, drinking, midnight kisses, reader is mentioned as wearing a skirt & tights, making out, seungcheol picks reader up, body worship, slight nipple play, fingering (f. receiving), oral sex (f. & m. receiving), choking, cheol has a big dick (i don't make the rules), unprotected sex (they talk about it, but don't do this), multiple orgasms & overstimulation (f. receiving), aftercare

a/n: this is for @k-vanity's 25 tips for surviving the holidays. day 11 - cabin vacation. i'm not really sure what happened, something about scoups just makes me blackout and write too much (i only started this 2 days ago). also shoutout to @tbzhub for saying we'd do this together lmao. thank you to @gyuwoncheol, @wonwussy, & @wooahaeproductions for helping me land on cheol for this fic. also, just for fun, tagging some scoups enjoyers because i'm nothing if not a menace: @ugh-yoongi, @seungkwansphd, @wongyuseokie, @beomcoups, @horanghater, @cheolism

The holidays are usually your favorite time of year. Sure, they’re really hectic and there’s always way too much to do without nearly enough time to do it. But, you still love it. Love being around friends and family. Love how everyone seems to acknowledge that any problems can wait for the new year. This is a time for joy and happiness. A time to celebrate all the wonderful things that did happen and leave the bad in the year you’re leaving behind. 

This time of year also brings around an annual trip that you take with friends. A trip to a secluded cabin where you can all just disconnect. Where you can sit by the fireplace and read. Where you can go to the nearby resort to ski or snowboard. Where you can drink hot cocoa and swap stories and just enjoy the company without the bustle of the city. It’s one of your favorite weekends every time the holidays roll around. 

Not this year. 

This year, your friends decide that they want to make the group a little bigger and spend a long weekend, including New Year’s Eve, together. Which is great, you’re single and there’s nobody else you’d rather ring the New Year in with. Except for one problem. Your ex is also coming. It’s been a little over a year since you broke up, so you know it’s time to move on. Moving on feels a lot harder when he decides he’s going to come to the cabin weekend again this year. It shouldn’t really surprise you. After all, you were friends before you dated. Didn’t think anything could stop you from being friends after. Didn’t actually think there would be an after, if you’re honest. And you’re definitely not going to be the one to back out or admit you’re still not really over it. 

So, that’s why you’re sitting in a car with Wonwoo, Jihoon, and Mimi, headed off to the cabins that your friends booked for an extended long weekend. You’re just thankful that Wonwoo offered you a spot in his car on the way up. Makes it a lot easier. Even if it means Jihoon and Mimi are currently in each other’s space in the backseat as she shows him something on her phone. It’s not that you mind how cute they are together, it’s just still weird to see Jihoon acting like that with anyone. She seems to have waltzed in and melted any defenses he had.

From his position in the driver’s seat, Wonwoo reaches over to squeeze your thigh. You look over at him, grateful for the reminder that you’re not alone in all of this. Grateful that he swore up and down to make sure you never felt awkward the whole weekend. Maybe it won’t be so bad, you think, as you queue up more songs for the drive. That’s the best part about being in the front seat. You get to control the music and Wonwoo started the trip by telling Jihoon and Mimi just to roll with it. Not that they’re paying all that much attention, but it was a nice thought all the same. 

The drive up is uneventful. Wonwoo navigates the winding back roads with a practiced ease. You sigh happily, taking in all the trees dusted with snow and the winter wonderland all around as you leave most of your troubles behind. There’s something almost refreshing about being out here. Like the air is crisper and everything is stiller. Wonwoo would make a smartass comment about how there’s more trees, less pollution, and a lot fewer people. So, of course all those things are true. You think it’s more, something about the magic of Christmas and the New Year. 

Your smile falls the second you pull up to the main cabin because you can see that Seungcheol’s car is already there. Figures he would not only drive, but beat you there. You try to set that aside, though, because the place is beautiful. It’s set up with a main cabin where you can hang out, cook, play games, or do whatever you want. Then, there are separate small cabins, mostly just with bedrooms and bathrooms, to sleep in. Nayeon, bless her, took care of figuring out the sleeping arrangements for everyone. At least that would be easy. 

Jihoon and Mimi are out of the car almost as soon as it stops, even if Jihoon grumbles about how his legs are stiff and the air is cold. It takes one smile from Mimi and he’s smiling back, grabbing their bags from the car to head for the main cabin. Meanwhile, Wonwoo adjusts his glasses and makes sure everything is turned off before getting out of the car to stretch. When he meets you at the trunk, his gaze is soft. 

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay?” he asks. 

You sigh and pull out your suitcase, with a little help from your friend. “No.” 

“We shouldn’t have come,” Wonwoo says.

“Just because I’m being a baby doesn’t mean you should’ve stayed away,” you reassure him.

“You’re not being a baby,” he says with a frown. 

“Still,” you press. “We’ve been broken up for a year. There’s going to be a lot of people here, it’ll be fine.”

“As long as you’re sure,” Wonwoo relents. “He didn’t bring anyone, did he?” 

“No, Nayeon said it’s just him. She’s worried about me too,” you say with a playful eye roll. “She’s got me staying in a cabin with you, her, and Joshua.”

“I’m glad we’re at least staying together,” Wonwoo says.

“I’m gonna be fine, Wonwoo, you worry too much,” you insist. 

You get through the first night and breakfast the next morning without having to say a single word to Seungcheol. It’s been awhile since you last saw some of your friends, so there’s a lot to catch up on. The group is also pretty large, which makes it easier to blend in. Everything, even something as simple as making a meal, is kind of a process, too. You’ve always been pretty comfortable in the kitchen and offer to help cook. Seungcheol can’t say the same. It feels like maybe it’ll be smooth and you can just do your own separate things without it being a big deal. Like you can both just agree to give each other space during the trip and not be awkward.

That lasts until the afternoon on the first full day, unfortunately. 

Even though a lot of people take time off between Christmas and New Year’s, a decent portion of the group decides a Friday will still be less busy on the slopes. They want to get some runs in earlier in the day before whatever everyone wants to do later. Seungcheol, thankfully, was one of the first to say he wanted to go. Not surprising, you know he likes really anything where he can be active. Wonwoo was also quick to say he wanted to, after asking you if that was okay. You, again, insisted it was fine. 

You’re reading your book by the fire, periodically watching Jun, Nayeon, and Mimi play cards on the other side of the room, when Seungcheol comes hobbling back in. Minghao just behind him, scolding him for not waiting and ruining the peaceful atmosphere. 

“What’s wrong?” Nayeon asks, looking up from the game.

“Nothing, I’m fine,” Seungcheol says shortly.

“He rolled his ankle,” Minghao interjects. 

“Now you see why I stayed behind,” Jun says.

“I’m fine, really,” Seungcheol insists. 

“You should ice it just in case. And keep it elevated,” Minghao says as heads off to the kitchen. 

Trying to keep your face straight, you mark the page in your book and get up. All you want is for this to be as subtle as possible. But, Jun is also in the room.

“Where are you going?” Jun asks. 

“Oh, just back to my room to get something,” 

It’s a lie and you’re pretty sure they know it, but you also don’t care. You’re not going to stay in the room with an injured Seungcheol because he gets pouty when he can’t do exactly what he wants. This is going to be one of those times. There’s no way he’s going to be happy sitting still when he knows his other friends are still out on the trails. Especially when it’s such a minor thing. You hope that they all understand your decision to just let them deal with him and whatever he has to say.

When you feel like it’s been enough time, you venture back into the main cabin, portable charger in hand, for good measure. Not that you think anyone will ask what it is that you needed from your room, but it’s always a good idea to be prepared. Just in case. At first glance, you think the main living area is empty. That makes you sigh in a little relief. Not that you want to be alone when this is a trip for friends. It’s just nice to have a quiet moment in all the chaos. You think you’ll be able to get back to your book, at least for a little, until you notice someone laying on the couch. Not someone. Seungcheol. Quickly, you turn around, hoping he doesn’t see you. And it would probably work, if you didn’t bump into the corner of a table on your way out.

His head snaps up and swivels to look at you. “What - oh.” 

“Sorry, I was just leaving,” you say.

“Can you really not be in the same room as me?” he asks. He sits up so that he can look at you more easily.

“I’ve been in the same room as you plenty,” you point out.

“Not alone,” he persists. 

“What reason would we possibly have to be alone together?” you wonder. 

“You don’t have to be so…” he starts.

“So, what?” you press.

“So…like this,” Seungcheol finishes, somewhat lamely.

“How should I be?” you ask. 

“I don’t know, just, not like this. We were always comfortable with each other, even before…” he starts and stops suddenly.

“Before we dated? Before you shattered my heart? Before you decided it was easier to shut me out instead of just talking to me?” you ask, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. 

“I know,” he admits.

“You just abandoned me,” you say quietly. “I needed you and you weren’t there. I never would’ve left you like that.” 

“I know. I made so many mistakes. So many things I can’t take back,” he says. He actually looks remorseful. You’re not sure if that’s better or worse. “I’m so sorry for that. I would take it all back if I could. I’d do everything differently.”

“This was a mistake,” you say.

“Talking to me?” he asks.

“Coming on this trip at all,” you admit and turn away. “I have to go.” 

With your back to him, you miss the way his face falls at your admission. Don’t see the way he considers getting up to follow after you. It’s for the best, anyway. Your heart's already breaking again just from one conversation. Just from seeing the emotion on his face. The one face you thought you’d always know better than your own. It’s amazing how everything can change in a single moment. How something that took years to build, first as friends and then as a couple, can all come tumbling down in a second. A split second or a fork in the road. One wrong turn and it’s all gone. 

You make it through to Saturday without any more forced conversations with your ex-boyfriend. Manage to sit on the opposite end of the table from him during meals. Wait until he commits to playing a game or watching something before you decide what to do yourself. Still, you feel very included in everything with different groups of your friends because there are plenty of people there to hang out with. If you take the forced conversation with him out of the equation, it’s actually been a pretty good trip, overall. Not nearly as hard as you expected it to be. 

“I’m gonna go check out the lodge at the mountain, anyone wanna come?” Wonwoo throws out. There’s a smattering of lukewarm responses. Mostly, people say they may hit the trails a little bit later after they’ve had a lazy morning.

“I’ll come,” you offer. 

“Shocking that you two are a pair,” Nayeon jokes from her spot on the couch, curled up with Joshua.

“That’s enough out of you,” you joke back before turning to Wonwoo. “I’ll go grab my coat.”

“Can you grab my hat? I think I left it in my room,” Wonwoo requests.

“Sure,” you agree. 

When you meet Wonwoo in the entranceway, you find your eyes back on the living area. Almost like you can feel someone watching you. But, when nobody is, you figure that you must have imagined it, not noticing the way Seungcheol’s jaw tightens or his mouth turns down in frown. He had just been looking and he wasn’t liking what he saw. Instead, having missed all that, you fall into step beside one of your closest friends and head out of the cabin.

“It’s not a far walk, but we can drive if you want,” Wonwoo offers, sticking his hands into his pockets.

“No, a walk would be nice. It’s not as cold today,” you say.

One of the best parts of being friends with Wonwoo is the sheer comfort you feel with him. It’s always been like this, since the beginning of your friendship. Always just as easy to say the hard things to him as it is to sit in silence. Always easy to avoid the hard things, because he seems to find it easy to to tell when you don’t want to say something. Unfortunately, it’s also easy for him to push you to speak, even when you’re not sure if you want to. Like now, as soon as you reach the Lodge. 

“Are you doing okay?” Wonwoo asks as the pair of you make your way over to a stand selling hot drinks. 

“I’m assuming you don’t mean from the walk over here,” you deflect while you look at the menu.

“No,” Wonwoo answers simply. 

“I’m fine,” you insist, stepping up to the counter. “Peppermint hot chocolate and whatever he wants.”

“You don’t have to…” Wonwoo starts, falling silent at the look you give him. He sighs, knowing you won’t relent. “Just a plain hot chocolate.” 

“Thanks,” you say as you pay.

“You’re not fine. I can see it on you,” Wonwoo says.

You pause when someone calls out your name for the order. “I really am doing fine. The only hard part was getting sucked into a short conversation with him yesterday.”

“What did he say?” Wonwoo asks. 

“Nothing much,” you say and meet Wonwoo’s eyes. You can tell you need to carry on. So, you recount the conversation as best as you can remember.

“He misses you,” Wonwoo surmises. 

“And if he does? What does it matter?” you ask.

“You miss him too,” Wonwoo points out. “That’s why it matters.”

“I don’t,” you argue. “He broke my heart.” 

“What happened? A year ago when you broke up, what happened?” Wonwoo asks.

“You know what happened,” you say with a sigh.

“No, I don’t. I know he left, somehow, but I don’t know what really happened. You’ve always kept that part of the story close to the vest,” Wonwoo says.

“Because it still hurts,” you plead. 

“Maybe it’s time you let someone else take a little of that pain by talking about it,” Wonwoo suggests. You find a table to sit down as you’re considering sharing.

Ultimately, it would be nice to get someone else’s perspective. To get someone who knows you both, and cares about you both, to weigh in on everything that happened. Even if Wonwoo seemingly took your side, you know he still talks to Seungcheol as well. With a steadying breath, you launch into the whole explanation, at least your side of it. It’s time, past time, honestly, that you get this off your chest.

It was great, at the beginning. The two of you were friends first, for years, before something shifted and you started to see each other differently. Suddenly stepping a little more carefully around each other. Not really knowing what to do or what to expect. Not sure if it would ruin the friendship to admit that there were feelings there. Until one day, Seungcheol finally made the move, asked you out on a date, and made sure you knew that’s what he was asking. It got very serious, very quickly. Far more quickly than either of you expected. But, that’s what happens when you start as friends. There are so many things you already know, so many things you don’t have to ask, so many memories already embedded into your relationship. Things were good. It wasn’t like they were perfect. There were little fights here and there, but nothing that felt that serious. Nothing that felt like a dealbreaker. 

It’s hard to admit, even to Wonwoo, that you saw Seungcheol as your forever. As someone you wouldn’t let go of once you had him. He was your safe space without ever being boring. Your protector without ever being one of those toxic assholes. Your biggest cheerleader without being condescending. It was way too early in the relationship to be feeling like he was your forever, so you didn’t ever say it to him, but you felt it. Felt it deep in your bones. He was also vulnerable with you in a way that he wasn’t with anyone else. At least anyone else that you’d seen. The first time he just let you take care of him, let you see him as something other than someone strong and in control, it made you fall even more deeply for him. It didn’t hurt that he nearly stopped your heart with how stupid hot he was. That gets a snort out of Wonwoo before you continue on. 

Suddenly, everything changed. Seungcheol withdrew into himself and stopped confiding in you. He could always be a bit moody, a little deep in his feelings. Still, he would always talk to you about it. Would always share with you what he was feeling. Sometimes it was something so simple as you getting a little too much attention, which he didn’t like. He could be a little jealous. It was something you worked on with him. Sometimes it was a conversation with a friend weighing heavily or something going wrong at work. No matter what, he always talked to you about it. Until he didn’t. Until he just stopped saying much of anything. Until he got a bit secretive with everything in his life and you didn’t really recognize him anymore. His phone was always turned over. Not fully paying attention to you when you were in group settings. Not making plans the way he used to.

“What did you do?” Wonwoo asks. 

“I confronted him,” you say. Simple. It was so simple. “I told him it wasn’t okay and that I deserved better. That we always got through things together and that we needed to get back to that.” 

“Mature of you,” Wonwoo says.

“I thought so,” you say and take a steadying breath. “He agreed, even. Told me that I did deserve better.”

“So what…” Wonwoo asks, but trails off. Obviously confused. 

“He said that it was too much. That he couldn’t give me the things I deserved. That I would be better off finding someone else who could,” you say and wipe away the stray tear. 

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t know,” Wonwoo says. 

“I didn’t want you to. I didn’t want you to look at me like that,” you admit. “Like I was broken because someone didn’t want to love me.”

“You’re not broken,” Wonwoo insists softly, hand reaching out for one of yours. “You’re one of the strongest people I’ve ever known. But it’s okay to admit when you need help. Or when you need a friend.”

“I know,” you sigh. “It’s just hard.”

“I know, but I’m here,” Wonwoo assures you. 

Saturday night finds Wonwoo and Seungcheol as the last two awake in the living room, finishing their drinks in relative silence. It used to be easy for Seungcheol, sitting with his friend like this. Yet, it hasn’t been, not in the last year since he broke up with you. Not since Wonwoo made it clear that they were friends, but he was sticking by you no matter what. Not that Wonwoo’s been cold or rude or anything. That would have made it easier, Seungcheol thinks. No, instead he’s been mostly the same. Still just as friendly and supportive. All it does is make him feel worse. Why can’t Wonwoo just say what’s really on his mind?

“How was the lodge earlier?” Seungcheol asks.

“Hmm?” Wonwoo asks, eyes seeming to come back into focus as they look over at him.

“The lodge? You went over there earlier. I was just asking how it was,” Seungcheol repeats.

“Oh, fine. We just ended up getting hot chocolate and talking. Kinda watched people coming and going from the trails,” Wonwoo says like it doesn’t matter. Maybe it doesn’t. 

“Are you two…are you…” Seungcheol starts and stops the question several times.

“Dating?” Wonwoo asks, taking pity on his friend. “No. She’s been single since…”

“I broke her heart?” Seungcheol supplies humorlessly. 

“I wasn’t going to say that.” 

“No? It seems like someone spending that much time with her would say that.” 

Wonwoo regards him for a second, adjusts his glasses like he’s buying time to think. “What happened? With you and her, what happened?”

“I’m sure you’ve already heard it from her.” The answer is short. Seungcheol doesn’t want to play these games, not with someone that’s so obviously close to you.

“I’m not asking to hear it from her. I’m asking to hear it from you,” Wonwoo presses. He’s insistent, but his eyes are soft. It’s easy to wonder if it’s time to share. 

“I got scared,” Seungcheol admits. “And jealous.” 

“Of what? Or of who?” Wonwoo asks.  Seungcheol takes a long sip of his drink and grimaces a little. He isn’t buzzed enough for this. Can’t really believe he’s entertaining sharing in the first place. But, well, isn’t this what he’s hoping for? Another chance?

“Of everything and everyone,” Seungcheol says. “She was so kind, so patient, so good to me. Good for me. Just the best person I’ve ever known. I just thought that one day, she’d wake up and she’d realize that she deserved more than me.”

Wonwoo shakes his head. “Why did you think that?” 

“I don’t know,” Seungcheol admits. “I guess, well I know I can be difficult. That I get in my head a lot. I know sometimes it’s hard to talk about what I’m feeling. She made a lot of that feel easier, which made me fall harder for her. But, then she makes a lot of people feel that way, doesn’t she? Like she’s the only one who will understand. I don’t even think I was the only friend of ours that had feelings for her. I just, I don’t know, it sounds so fucking dumb now, but I couldn’t compete.” 

“It wasn’t a competition, Cheol,” Wonwoo says.

“I know that,” Seungcheol insists.

Wonwoo fixes him with a stare. “Do you? She’s a lot of things, maybe a lot that make people interested in her. But, she chose you. She chose you and kept choosing you, every chance she got. I don’t think that ever would’ve changed.” 

“Do you want me to feel worse?” Seungcheol asks, voice rising a bit. “I already told her that I would go back and change things if I could, but I can’t.” 

“Do you still love her?” Wonwoo asks, voice so quiet. Yet, it carries all the same.

“Of course I do,” Seungcheol says.

“Then figure out a way to tell her,” Wonwoo replies.

“It’s not that easy,” Seungcheol says. “And aren’t you supposed to be telling me to leave her alone? As her friend?” 

Wonwoo rises from his seat. “It can be that easy, if you stop being your own worst enemy. And I’m your friend, too. It doesn’t seem like the chapter is really over for either of you yet.” 

Seungcheol sits and considers what his friend shared. Wonders if there might be something there. He barely registers as Wonwoo says goodnight and calls a goodnight in response. Then, he’s left with his thoughts again. Should he say something? Can he bring himself to say something? Or will you just shut it down again?

New Year's Eve brings a snowstorm with it that has your group of friends deciding it’s best to just stay in the cabins instead of venturing out to the party they’re having at the lodge. There’s plenty of you for a party, plenty of food, and plenty of warmth, especially close to the fire. The snow falls lightly outside the windows, blanketing everything around with a fresh layer of powdery flakes. It’s not supposed to get truly heavy until much later in the evening. So, you can just get dressed up and have a party with everyone that’s familiar to you. No worrying about mixing with strangers and how they’ll impact the party.

When you and Mingyu go into the kitchen to take stock of what you have and plan out the food for the day, you realize that maybe you don’t have everything that you need after all. You could actually use more food and you definitely could use some champagne to toast with. It makes sense, though, you planned to go into the lodge to ring in the new year. Your smile when Wonwoo, Jihoon, and Joshua offer to go out and do a run is immediate and wide. You hand over a list of what you need (well, you text it to all three of them just to cover your bases) and they’re off into town. That lets you turn back to the kitchen, where Mingyu and Mimi are starting on an appetizer. You’re trying to figure out what you can work on when someone clears their throat. Your heart skips a little when you look up.

“Could I talk to you for a minute?” Seungcheol asks you, face more open than you’ve seen in a while.

It makes your mouth go dry. How are you supposed to turn him down when he’s asking in front of everyone like this? Like it’s just a totally normal thing to ask? All you can do is nod and avoid looking at anyone else around you. Just nod and follow him into a smaller side room off the main living area. 

“Thanks,” he says when they stop walking.

“What was I supposed to do? Make a scene?” you ask. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know how else to ask you to talk,” he admits.

“I heard you,” you say, cutting across his words. He looks confused. “Last night? I heard you talking to Wonwoo. I left my charger in here and came back to get it.” 

“Oh,” is all he says.

“Oh?” you repeat.

“I wanted to actually tell you, not have you overhear me talking through things with someone else,” he says, mouth turned down like he’s upset.

“Then you should have just talked to me,” you press.

“I couldn’t! You won’t talk to me,” he says defensively.

“Not this weekend. A year ago, when it all happened,” you say quietly.

“I know,” he says. You expect him to look annoyed or defeated, but he only looks sincere. “I knew the moment you walked out that I fucked up and I’m so sorry. I’ve tried a hundred times since then to just talk to you, but the words never felt right.” 

“Cheol,” you plead. You’ve been waiting a year to hear this. Except, you finally feel like you’re starting to move past it all and this is only making it confusing. 

“Just, you don’t have to say anything, I just want you to hear me out,” Seungcheol pleads. “I know I have absolutely no right to ask you that, but I’m asking anyway.”

“Okay,” you say, barely above a whisper.

“I fucked up. I knew I did when you walked out, but it took me a while to realize just how bad. I didn’t just drive a partner away, I drove someone away that got through all my walls in a way nobody else ever has. I drove away the person that made me feel comfortable, that supported me even when I was being an idiot, that constantly showed up for me. I was afraid that I didn’t deserve you and always jealous of everyone else that paid attention to you. I thought one day you were gonna wake up and realize that there were better people out there that were less, I don’t know, emotionally closed off. I didn’t realize until way too late that you knew exactly what you brought to the table and what you deserved, but you picked me. I didn’t realize that it’s the only thing I ever needed, was you seeing all of me and picking me anyway,” Seungcheol says. 

“I don’t, that’s…” you trail off and shake your head to clear it. You’re trying to find the words when Nayeon pokes her head in.

“Hey, I’m so sorry to butt in, but Mimi just kicked me out of the kitchen. I was only offering because Mingyu said he needed help,” Nayeon says. “I think they need you.”

“Oh, um,” you start, kind of like a deer in headlights.

“You should go help him. I don’t want everyone hating me for keeping you from helping Mingyu,” Seungcheol says with a light chuckle at complete odds with the situation. 

“Thank you,” Nayeon says with a smile as she grabs your arm to whisk you away.

“Does Mingyu actually need me?” you ask.

“Huh? Yeah, he does,” Nayeon laughs. “I wasn’t trying to save you, you’re good enough at that on your own.”

“I don’t buy that,” you say, pulling both of you to a halt. Nayeon rolls her eyes.

“Fine, maybe I heard what he said to Wonwoo last night from Joshua and maybe I want you to at least consider what he has to say,” Nayeon admits. “I liked you together, sue me.”

“I just might,” you grumble, heading off to help Mingyu in the kitchen without Nayeon in tow.

After dinner, you and Mingyu insist that you’re not getting anything, for anyone, for the rest of the night. And probably into tomorrow. Mimi got distracted part way through and disappeared for entirely too long with Jihoon. Which would be fine, but there were a lot of people to cook for and you needed all the help you could get. Joshua popped in and out, thankfully, but it was still tiring. The perk has been that you actually haven’t had to lift a finger since. Your drink stays full and someone is always willing to get you something to eat. That lets you settle in to play a game with the group.

The TV in the background steadily counts down as it gets closer to midnight. Occasionally, the performance draws your attention to watch. Mostly, you’re just drinking entirely too much. Somewhere, in the deep recesses of your brain, you know that you’re just trying to avoid thinking about everything Seungcheol said. Or trying to avoid thinking how good he looks tonight. It’s hard to stop yourself from lingering on the way his shirt clings to his chest. Has he been working out even more? Or the way his pants stretch tight across his thighs. Not for the first time, you shake your head to clear it, recross your legs, and focus on whatever game it is you’re playing. Ignore the look Wonwoo gives you from his place next to you. He certainly hasn’t missed your looks. (And nobody else really has, either, except for Jun. But, that’s just Jun for you.)

Everyone sets aside the games when it gets closer to midnight, milling around with varying amounts of energy instead of sitting still. You realize, even with any awkwardness from Seungcheol being there, you can’t think of anyone else you’d rather ring in a new year with. Surrounded by all of your favorite people, what else could anyone ask for? Well, except maybe a New Year’s kiss. As if on cue, your glance drifts over to Seungcheol. It’s a little surprising to find he’s already looking at you, smiling softly. It sends a surge of emotion through you to think of all the reasons you fell in love with him in the first place. When you turn away to take a sip of your drink, you find it’s empty. With midnight rapidly approaching, you really need a refill on the champagne. You’re about to go do that when a voice breaks into your thoughts.

“Here,” he says.

You turn to look at Seungcheol, now very firmly in your space, holding out a new glass of champagne. “Thanks.”

“I just noticed you were almost empty and figured you’d want it,” he offers.

“Yeah, I should make sure this one lasts,” you chuckle out.

The host on TV announces that there’s only a minute left. Everyone around you starts talking excitedly or getting closer to their partners, if they have them. Jokingly, you told Wonwoo that he would be your New Year’s kiss. Now, that’s the last thing on your mind. Seungcheol hovers close by. When you look over at him, though, his eyes are on the TV, counting down along with the host when it gets to ten seconds.

“HAPPY NEW YEAR!” 

Everyone shouts together and starts clinking glasses. Hugging their friends or kissing their partners. Your body makes the decision for you when you turn to the man next to you and cheers his glass. As he starts to turn away, you grab his arm and pull him into you. Press your lips against his before either of you can figure out what’s happening. He recovers from his surprise quickly and wraps his free arm around your waist to pull you against his chest. It’s familiar and also somehow completely new at the same time. 

Breathless. That’s what you feel when you pull away and cheers with other friends. You throw your arms around Nayeon and press a kiss to Wonwoo’s cheek. Pointedly ignore any looks or raised eyebrows about your decision to kiss your ex in a room full of all your friends. It’s fine. Everyone is doing fine. You’re definitely thankful that someone suggests a game and you can all go back to celebrating without talking about the elephant in the room. A very different elephant than when you first got to the cabins. 

There’s another massive difference, too. Instead of sitting on the fringes or carefully leaving space, Seungcheol plops down right next to you. Lets his arm rest along the back of the couch. His arm isn’t around you, but it could be with the slightest adjustment. Several of your friends look at you with the question in their eyes. You avoid all of them, like the true adult you are, and focus, instead, on the warmth of Seungcheol’s thigh when it presses into yours. Actually, you avoid drinking any more, either. The whole night has been a little confusing (read: a lot confusing) and you don’t need an alcohol haze adding to that. It doesn’t escape your notice that he stops drinking as well. 

When you start to get a little tired, you excuse yourself to the kitchen, claiming you need a snack and don’t know what you want. A minute later, Seungcheol appears on the other side of the island. Leaning casually against it like it’s the most normal thing in the world. Like he hasn’t sent your entire world into a spiral. Like he’s not still one of the hottest people you’ve ever seen in your life.

“So, uh, I don’t wanna assume anything…” he starts and you hold up a hand.

“I’m going to excuse myself in a minute to go to bed. Give it a few minutes and then come to my room,” you say, walking around him without waiting for a response. 

When you tell the group that you’re going to turn in for the night, you do your best not to meet anyone’s eyes. You’re not naive enough to think you’re fooling anyone. Not that you even want to. It’s just, well, you want this time to figure out what’s happening. It’s a little hard to do that when you know everyone’s eyes are on the two of you. There’s the tiniest bit of you holding onto the hope that you can pass it off as you being overwhelmed by the kiss at midnight. Like you didn’t just tell him to meet you in your room.

Back in your room, you shrug off your jacket and sit down on the bed. The seconds seem to drag by waiting for him to show up. For a second, you wonder if he’s actually going to show up at all. You stop those thoughts in their tracks. He had a lot to say and he kissed you back. Then, he spent the rest of the night pressed up close to you. He’s going to show up. Before you can spiral further, there’s a knock at the door. You’re halfway to the door when it opens a crack and Seungcheol peeks his head inside. 

“Can I come in?” he asks, looking unsure for the first time since before you kissed him. 

“I did ask you to come to my room,” you joke.

“I was a little surprised,” he admits.

“Me too,” you agree. 

He shuts the door behind him, allowing you to really look at him for the first time all weekend. To take in his appearance, as he removes his jacket, without any other eyes on your. Or anyone analyzing the interaction. To just appreciate the man you fell in love with. His hair is a little shaggy and blond, a color you don’t remember seeing on him before. He catches you looking, but instead of a smirk, there’s only a smile. Hopeful and genuine. It’s a little overwhelming to have him in your space. To know you need to talk. To know there’s so much to work through.

Instead, in the only move you can think of, you close the distance, wrapping your arms around his middle. He doesn’t even miss a beat. Just wraps his arms around you, erasing any last bit of space between you. It feels calm, familiar. Like no time has passed. Like you’re not different people now. He kisses the top of your head, so soft you think it might shatter any resolve you have left. 

“I’m sorry I kissed you in front of everyone without talking to you,” you mumble into his shirt.

“I’m not,” he quickly reassures you.

“I really fucking want to kiss you again,” you admit, still talking into his shirt rather than looking at him.

“Then,” he starts, moving a hand to tilt your chin up, “what are you waiting for?” 

“We probably should talk,” you say.

“You’re right,” he sighs.

Except, do you really want to talk right now? Do you really want to stop yourself from kissing him again? You stopped drinking so your head would be clear enough to make this decision. You’re just a little sick of overthinking everything this weekend. Sensing the indecision, Seungcheol presses a feather light kiss to your lips. Enough to make the decision, while also being light enough that you could easily pull away. 

You do, just for a second. “Fuck it, let’s talk tomorrow.” 

Your lips crash back against Seungcheol’s, hungry and desperate, arms wrapped around his neck. It makes him tilt down a little so that you can press against him. There’s no hesitation on his end, either. You find yourself wondering if he was always this good at kissing or if he’s gotten better since you broke up. Or maybe it just means more the second time around. When he picks you up, you gasp into the kiss. Wrap your legs around his waist to feel a little steadier. Not that you think he would ever let you fall. It’s easier than you expected to fall back into this kind of trust with him. 

It’s like you both want to go fast, yet also take your time. Seungcheol deposits you on the bed, then takes his time removing your shoes. Toes his off a little more quickly. You go to remove some of your layers, only to have his hands stop you. He’s so slow, removing the sheer top with painstaking care. Kissing along your skin as he exposes it. The amount of attention makes you squirm. You’re prepared for something quick and dirty. Something more like a one-night stand. You’re not prepared for him to worship your body as he exposes more of your skin. Part of you feels really exposed, because he’s still fully dressed, as he carefully unhooks your bra. The way he looks at you, like you’re the only person in the world he’s ever wanted, makes your heart ache. Makes you second guess if this is right. 

“We can stop. We don’t have to do this,” he whispers into your skin. 

You grab his face so that you can look him in the eyes. There’s something in you that just needs to gauge him for a minute. Needs to really know what decision you’re making. There’s so much love there, so many unspoken words, so much sincerity. Maybe you’re not over him at all. Maybe he meant everything he said.

“No, I want this. Want you,” you assure him. 

His eyes sparkle a little. There’s no time to dwell on it, though. His mouth is on your skin again. Kissing the spot on your neck that he knows drives you crazy. Kissing the beauty mark on your shoulder. Kissing across your collarbone. When he works his way down to your nipples, he’s not being so soft anymore. He pinches one between his fingers without warning.

“Fuck, Cheol,” you hiss. 

“Too much?” he asks. You don’t need to look at him to know he’s smirking, but you do anyway. That knowing smirk sends desire coursing through you.

“You’re such a little shit,” you whine. 

He pinches the same nipple again. Watches you as he flicks his tongue over the other. Actually smiles when you arch into his mouth. “You don’t seem to mind it.” 

You wind your hand into his hair in response, pull a little harder than normal. He groans against your breast, sending a little vibration into your skin. “You don’t seem to mind a little pain, either.” 

There’s no answer. Not that you need it. One of his hands moves down your body, mouth still focusing on your chest, until he gets to your thigh. Your skirt is bunching up around hips from squirming on the bed. “How much do you like these tights?”

You look down at the sparkly tights you bought just for the party. That you’ll probably never wear again. “I mean, they’ve got sparkles. Wasn’t planning to wear them again.” 

“Good,” he says. 

You’re expecting him to rip them on the spot. Instead, he returns his mouth to yours, kissing you hard, and lets a finger run over your entrance, through both tights and underwear. It’s not enough. There’s entirely too much fabric in the way. He’s teasing you, he has to be. There’s no other reason that explains this kind of torture. 

“Jesus, Cheol, please,” you beg. 

“What are you trying to do to me?” he groans. Seems like he still likes it when you beg for something.

In either case, he carefully rips a hole in your tights, too focused on you to figure out pulling them down. Seemingly in one motion, your underwear is pushed to the side and he’s got a finger running up your entrance. Feeling that you’re turned on from the way he’s been kissing all over your body. Thankfully, you don’t have to beg again. At least, not yet. He presses his fingers at your mouth and you suck them in eagerly. Swirl your tongue around them. He almost looks reluctant when he withdraws them to press one inside your cunt. 

“Fuck, you’re so wet for me,” he groans. 

“Forgot how good your fingers felt,” you answer, squirming underneath him.

“Bet I could make you come just on my fingers,” he says as he adds a second one.

“Fuck,” you draw out. He’s not being gentle with you anymore. “Then you don’t get to taste me. And we both know how much you love that.”

He leans in closer, you’re assuming to kiss you. Instead, his lips find your ear. “Who says I can’t do both?” 

You bite down on your fist to keep from screaming out when he thrusts faster. Try your best to hold on when his thumb brushes over your clit. All you want is to prove him wrong. Prove that you can hold on and that you’re not putty in his hands. Except, your body remembers. It remembers just how good he makes you feel. Remembers how well he knows what makes you crazy. Nobody has ever known your body like him. And it’s a little annoying. With his fingers inside you, it’s easy to realize that nobody feels as good as him. You could never get yourself off like he could.

It’s an embarrassingly short time before you’re coming on his fingers, fighting not to scream out. Trying anything you can not to make it more obvious just why you decided it was time to head to bed. Seungcheol guides you through the high as you fall back into the bed, sinking deeper into the mattress. After a moment, you prop yourself up to watch him remove his shirt. You’re no longer the only one that’s overexposed. Then again, you don’t feel exposed being half naked around him. It only feels comfortable. Once he removes his shirt, he moves back to your body. Actually takes the time to remove your tights and underwear now. His breath ghosts across your cunt. That action alone is enough to send a little shiver through your body. You’re definitely sensitive. 

Seungcheol positions himself between your legs and looks up when you suck in a breath. “Are you okay, sweetheart?”

He’s so pretty like this. You’ve always thought that. Pushing his hair out of his eyes and looking up at you from underneath his lashes like he’s never seen anyone more beautiful in his life. So caring. The little bit of caution you get from him in the middle of him ruining you. You clear your throat to remember he asked you a question. “Yes, Cheol. With you, always.” 

It’s immediately more honest than either of you are expecting. Instead of breaking the moment, though, it seems to spur him on. The kind smile dissipates into something much more confident. He spreads you open and looks up for a last time before his tongue licks a strip up your entrance. It doesn’t matter how long it’s been since the last time he was between your legs, your entire body remembers. It’s like muscle memory. The way your back arches. The way your hand knots in his hair. The way the praises fall from your lips. You’re sensitive. So fucking sensitive. And he knows. It’s always been one of his favorite things with you. Pushing you to the edge and then over again.

“God, I forgot how fucking good you taste,” he says when he takes a breath. 

“Well maybe, fuckkkk,” you start before cutting out. 

For once, he’s not a demon. He doesn’t ask what you were about to stay. Just keeps alternating between fucking his tongue into you and sucking your clit into his mouth. It’s too much and not enough all at once. Your entire body feels like it’s on fire. When his nose bumps against your clit as he’s buried deep in your pussy, you lose it again. Come all over his tongue and his face. Come harder than you remember coming in a really long time. If he notices, he doesn’t say anything. 

By the time the last shock works through your body, he’s laying next to you on the bed. You can’t help it. You have to lean over and kiss him. Want to taste yourself on his lips. It’s almost like you need that to know this is all real. That it’s all happening and it’s not just some weird, horny dream. (It’s not like that would be a first, either. You’ll never admit it, but you’ve thought a lot about him since you broke up. Especially when you were horny and needed a release. That’s your business, though.)

“Fuck, Cheol,” you utter when you pull away from the kiss.

“I’ve missed hearing my name on your lips,” he admits. “Specially when you call me Cheol.” 

“I’ve missed saying it,” you share, equally honest. 

You’re a little weak already. It’s hard to imagine what tomorrow is going to be like. But, you move down the bed anyway. Seungcheol tracks you with his eyes as you position to undo his pants. He moves his hips up to help you pull both his pants and briefs down. His stare as you pull your skirt down and discard it at the side of the bed is almost possessive. It sends something through your body. 

It’s your turn to remind him that he’s not the only one who remembers. You also remember just what drives him crazy and just how to get him going. You remember every place he likes to be kissed. So, you start there. Run your lips along every part of his body, like you’re committing him to memory again. As if you could ever forget anything about him. You delight in the sounds you pull from him just with your kisses. Maybe he knows, though, that you’re working your way down. 

“So hard just from getting me off,” you comment. 

“Because I know that nobody can make you come like I can and it’s fucking hot,” he answers.

It’s the same answer he’s always given and something about the familiarity makes you bolder. Even though you know there’s a conversation for tomorrow, it feels like the easiest thing you’ve ever done. You take his dick in your hand, run a finger over the tip and feel a little bit of the precum there. When you lick a stripe up the underside of his shaft, he shudders. Closes his eyes for a second before they snap back open to watch you. He’s always been like this. Always wanting to watch. This time is no different as you slowly take him into your mouth. You know he wants to fuck into your face, know you’d let him. But, you’re thankful he doesn’t. Even if you remember, he’s still big and thick inside your mouth. You need the time to get used to him. Once you do, though, you start to bob. Slowly, at first, before you let him take control. Relax your throat and let him find purchase in your hair. Encourage him to jerk his hips up as you keep your eyes on him as much as possible. You know how much it drives him crazy, even as the tears form and you gag a little 

“Fuck,” Seungcheol utters. 

He pulls you off his cock and up to his face so that he can kiss you. This is your favorite version of him. When he’s needy and desperate and completely putty in your hands. Like he can’t possibly imagine being anywhere that you aren’t. It’s when you know that you’re not crazy, that he’s just as far gone for you as you are for him. 

“I really need to fuck you,” he says. His lips are swollen from kissing you and his pupils are completely blown. “Fuck, I don’t have a condom on me.” 

“It’s fine, I’m still on the pill and I haven’t been with anyone since you,” you say. 

That seems to catch him off guard. “You haven’t?”

“No,” you answer.

“I haven’t either,” he admits.

“Then, we’re fine. I trust you,” you tell him. 

“Thank god, I really miss being inside you,” he breathes out.

“Think you just miss me,” you grumble as you reposition to straddle his lap.

“You and that smartass mouth of yours,” he retorts.

“I’m about to ride you, Seungcheol, and you just fucked my smartass mouth. So, maybe, pipe down,” you warn him.

This has always been your dynamic, swapping back and forth for who’s in control. As much as he says he likes control, you know he likes giving it up to you just as much. You know that he hasn’t ever let anyone else be in control apart from you. He looks up at you as you position yourself over him. There was a time when you hated this position. Felt really self conscious about how you must look from this angle. The second you admitted it to him, he was quick with his praise. Assuring you that you’re beautiful to him and there’s nothing to worry about.

He stops you before you lower yourself onto him. Puts his fingers in your mouth again and you obey without a second thought. Then, he runs his fingers along your entrance. Slides a finger in before quickly adding a second. It’s an awkward angle, but you get what he’s trying to do. Appreciate that he wants to make sure you’re at least a little prepped. When he pulls his fingers out, you’re only a little embarrassed at the moan that slips through your lips. If you completely ignore the smirk that he throws your way, well, who can blame you? The smirk is gone a second later when you finally lower yourself onto him.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groans. 

You know him so well. You know his instinct is to buck his hips up into you. You know it’s hard for him to let you adjust. But, you also know that he wants to be gentle, even if it’s just for a moment. 

“I forgot how good you felt, jesus fuck,” you moan out. 

“Please, I need to feel you move,” he begs. It’s nice, when he’s the one to beg for something.

And who are you to deny him anything he asks for when he sounds so pretty asking? You do move, entirely too slowly. You need to find your rhythm, though. Need to find some place to anchor your hands. They settle on his chest, at first, and you actually can’t believe how much muscle he has there. He’s always liked to work out. Always wanted to be in shape. This is even more than that. You’re still appreciating the way his chest feels when he grabs one of your hands. Without a word, he moves it to his neck.

“Are you sure?” you ask.

He nods. It’s been awhile since you choked him, even lightly, but it turns you on. It’s easy to see that it turns him on, too. As you apply a little bit of pressure, his fingers dig into the soft flesh of your hips. You do everything that you can to pick up the pace. To move faster on top of him. It doesn’t take very long until he’s planting his feet so that he can set the pace. He takes over the rhythm and it gets a lot harder. Bodies slapping together with each movement.

“Fuck, Cheol,” you say, trying not to scream. 

You move your hand from his neck so that you have a better grip. He’s moving too fast for you to feel comfortable that you won’t press too hard into his neck. It’s insane, you know that it’s insane, but you already feel like you’re getting close again. You start to clench around Seungcheol, making the stretch feel that much more intense. 

“Fuck, baby, I’m gonna come if you do that,” he groans. 

“Then do it,” you force out. “Wanna feel it inside me.”

“Jesus,” he groans. 

Everything happens so fast. You can feel him everywhere and your body is on fire. He’s still fucking hard into you, but he’s also rubbing your clit. Helping you get there with him. Somehow, he doesn’t seem to realize you’re already on the verge of your third orgasm. Oversensitive and overstimulated. Your body starts to shake and it’s hard to keep yourself upright on top of him. 

“Fuck, Cheol, I’m coming,” you hiss out. 

“I’m about to come too, fuck,” he answers. 

His thrusts get a lot more erratic and you feel him let loose inside you. You feel the way he moves to try and support you even while he’s working through his own release. When he stills, you collapse forward onto his chest. Breaths shallow and heavy. Your whole body’s exhausted, yet so happy at the same time. Carefully, you pull yourself off him. You’re sure a little bit of cum slides out with the loss of his cock inside you. Not that you care. 

It’s several minutes of silence. Seungcheol lays on his back and you’re on your side next to him. It might be a mark of how much he really did miss you that he doesn’t flinch when you start tracing patterns onto his stomach. It’s not like you just stop being ticklish. Eventually, you realize you need to get up. The last thing you want is to go to bed crusty. 

“Come on, I got lucky and I have an attached bathroom,” you say when you get up off the bed. You reach a hand to him and smile when he takes it without question. 

It’s quiet again as you help clean each other up. A comfortable kind of quiet. The way it used to be. This is another favorite of yours with him. Aftercare has always been his thing. No matter how rough he is with you in bed, he’s impossibly gentle when he cleans you up. It makes your heart ache a little because you’re so fond. It’s a weird mix of feelings.

“We should sleep in my room tonight,” he says. 

“We’re already here,” you point out. 

“With sheets that are probably soaked,” he teases back. 

“What are the chances we can get to your room without being seen?” you wonder. 

He shrugs. “It’s late. Probably better than the chances nobody heard us.” 

Your cheeks flush a little. Sure, you definitely tried to be quiet. You’ll have to wait until the morning to see if you succeeded. 

“Come on, my room has a door to the outside,” he says. 

So, you follow. You put your layers back on and grab something to sleep in. And you don’t actually see anyone before you’re safely tucked away in his room. That night, falling asleep tangled up in Seungcheol, is the best night of sleep you’ve gotten in a long time. 

Morning comes and brings with it the need for an actual conversation. As you stretch in bed, you appreciate the soreness in your body with a smile. Anything you’re feeling now is surely worth it. That is, until you realize you’re in bed alone. Dread creeps in. Could last night really have meant something different to Seungcheol than it did to you? Did you just make a massive mistake? You’re starting to wonder if you’re only going to break your own heart this time, with nobody else to blame, when the bedroom door opens. Seungcheol steps inside with a thermos and a bag that looks like it might have some of the pastries Wonwoo brought back from the store yesterday.

“You’re awake,” he says with a smile. He sets down the thermos and removes his jacket to hang it up. 

“I was worried you’d left,” you admit when he finishes taking off his shoes and sits next to you. His face looks hurt for a second before it settles. 

“No, I just went to get coffee and figure out what we were walking into before you got up,” he says. 

“And?” you prompt. 

He pulls out a pastry and hands it over. “Nayeon asked where I slept last night and if I knew where you were. I don’t think she heard anything, but who knows with her? Wonwoo wasn’t in the main area, so I don’t know. They said they all knew I was following you, though.”

“Guess we can’t really avoid it,” you joke. 

You’re expecting him to smile, too. Instead, his face is serious. “Do you want to? Avoid it, I mean.”

It makes you serious. Maybe a little too honest. “I don’t want to get hurt again.”

“I don’t expect you to believe me, not right away, but I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you,” he says and takes your hands in his. “If you give me another chance, I’m never letting you walk away from me again. I’ll prove that I’m worth everything you give me.”

“You’ve always been worth it, Cheol,” you tell him. 

“I realize that now,” he agrees. “I also realize it’s up to you to know what you deserve and what you want. That wasn’t ever my decision to make and I’m really sorry for doing that to you.”

“It hurt, for sure, but not having you around hurts so much worse,” you admit. It’s hard to meet his eyes, even though you know you’re safe. 

“It hurts so fucking bad. I hate it. Last year was the worst year of my life,” he says. 

“You got a massive promotion, though! Wonwoo told me,” you say. 

“This is going to sound so cheesy, but I’m done caring. That promotion didn’t mean shit without you being there to share it with,” he shares with you. 

“I guess we’ll have to celebrate it this year,” you say. 

His face lights up. “Really?”

“I want to give us another chance. I don’t think either of us are over it,” you acknowledge. “Last night aside, I want to take it slow. I want to take our time instead of rushing in like we did the first time around. I want to get it right this time.”

He nods immediately. “We can go as slow as you want. I mean it. I’m not letting you go again.”

“Good, because I don’t think we should wait to see if the third time’s the charm,” you joke. 

“I’m glad I came this year,” he says as he grabs the thermos. 

“Me too,” you agree. 

It’s funny, you think, how someone can feel so familiar and yet so new at the same time. Seungcheol feels like home, like your favorite sweater, or like curling up with a book by the fire in winter. But, he feels entirely new, too. Like maybe you both changed over the past year. Maybe you both grew into the people you needed to be to love each other better. To love each other right. Later, you’ll have to break the bubble and face your friends. Right now, though, you can just appreciate that this silly little cabin trip brought you peace. 

this was a lot of fun to write and i hope you liked it 💕