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seospicybin · 5 months

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TOO HOT TO HANDLE.

PART I

Changbin x reader. (s)

Too Hot To Handle masterlist

Synopsis: You and Changbin become contestants in a reality dating show, Too Hot To Handle. (14,5k words)

Author's note: I chose Changbin because it's cuffing season and now we got a reason to get a big boy, I want a big boy oh.... ifykyk

"Oh, this is so beautiful!" You sigh in amazement at the beautiful view of the beach.

You turn your head to the beautiful blond girl you're holding hands with, Sabine and it feels nice to be the first one to enter the villa with her.

"Oh, my Gosh!" She gasps, looking as amazed as you.

There are two small round tables with bottles of chilled wine inside the bucket of ice. Sabine takes one bottle and manages to pop it open without hassle.

You hurriedly take two champagne flutes and hold them as she pours the bubbly wine, she squeals as she almost overfills them.

"Cheers!" You both exclaim with your glasses clinking against each other.

Sabine gasps after taking a long sip and looks at you, "You're really pretty," she says.

Who doesn't like hearing a compliment especially when it comes from a beautiful person?

"You too," you say back with a cheeky smile.

"I see that you pierced your nipple," she says, easily spotting your pierced nipple through your blue bikini.

"Yes. I like them," you show her the piercings you have on both of your ears.

"That's really cool!"

"I did them myself," you proudly tell her.

Sabine gasps at that, "You're wild!"

Well, it's something you often hear people say about you, that you're wild and probably have been that way ever since you knew boys.

YOU: I'm the main character of my life, not a secondary one. I have a lot to give [winks] so bring me men, bring me women, bring me whatever. I hate rules and I do not follow them. I'm a little crazy [laughs] I'm not here to fall in love. I'm here to have fun.

"Wait, I'm picking up an accent here," you notice that Sabine is carrying an accent in the way she speaks.

She swallows her wine before saying, "I'm French."

"Oh, la la!" You playfully say with a nudge on her shoulder.

Sabine has that blue eyes that slowly drowns you in them and she knows how to use them as a form of seduction.

"Stop staring at me like that, you're so hot," you tell her while fanning yourself.

She laughs in satisfaction, "I got the feeling that you're open to anything."

You allow yourself to look at her small, heart-shaped face and her ski slope nose with a nose ring on the left nostril, there's no doubt that you can easily vibe with her.

"I am," you shortly confirm.

She gives you the eyes again and flashes you a flirty smile, "We're going to have so much fun then," she raises her glass for another toast.

If they leave you two alone for another minute, you're sure you would be kissing her already but fortunately, the next guest enters the villa.

"Okay, he's cute," Sabine comments while holding her glass close to her mouth.

First, this guy is so tall and he has that dirty blond hair that he keeps brushed to the back.

"Hello," he greets both of you with a bright smile.

He stands between the two of you to introduce himself, "I'm Oliver."

"I'm Sabine," she introduces herself as they exchange a quick hug.

As he turns to hug you, you hurriedly introduce yourself to him. You hand him a glass next and Sabine fills it for him.

"Where are you from?" Sabine asks.

"Guess where I'm from!" He dares you with a sly smile.

His distinct accent is not hard to guess, "Australia?"

"Yeah, but I've been living in the US," he adds, then takes a sip of his drink.

"My ex is Australian so I know," you mindlessly share.

That gets Oliver's head turned at you, "So, you're into Australians?"

"Sometimes, yeah," you give him a vague answer just to amuse him.

That seems to work wonderfully as he has his eyes on you until he realizes that he has another girl to pay attention to.

"You guys look gorgeous by the way," he says as he takes a step back just to check out the two of you.

"Oh, thank you!" Sabine says with a bashful smile.

"Anyway, what are you looking for in this show?" You ask him out of curiosity.

"I'm here to have a damn good time, honestly," he answers with a grin.

"Yes! Cheers to that!" Sabine says, initiating another toast by lifting her glass in the air.

YOU: They're so hot. I can definitely have a good threesome with them [laughs]

Changbin has no pressure whatsoever to be the last one to enter the villa.

He has so many things to offer more than just his looks. He's a confident man, he knows what he wants, and a great conversationist. A fair warning though, those good qualities are followed by a short fuse. Let's hope no one is having intentions to spark that fuse.

Changbin takes pride in being dominant but he balances it with his loyalty. He may be a casual dater but he never cheated on his partners or led them on when he has no interest in taking the relationship further.

In other words, whoever gets to be with him is lucky.

With the mindset that he owns this show already, Changbin steps into the villa, walking in confident strides that match his smoldering eyes.

If he thinks that he's it, then everyone would believe that he is it and Changbin feels like he owns this place already.

His presence demands attention and all eyes are on him, looking at him with eyes that are either curious or impressed.

"Hello there, big boy!" One of the girls greets him rather enthusiastically.

She introduces herself right away to him with a cheek kiss, "I'm Niamh."

"Changbin," he tells her his name and proceeds to introduce himself to the other guests.

All of the males are taller and more good-looking than him but he has all the girls' attention on him. See? It's not about looks, it's about how he carries himself.

"I'm just going to be honest, you're so my type," the other girl says to him.

"Yeah?" Changbin asks with a cocky smile.

"Yeah," she answers.

He believes her name is Riley and she is a gorgeous brunette with legs for days.

"Come over here then and have a drink with me," he says, leading her to the other table and popping a new bottle of champagne open.

CHANGBIN: I have a strong personality. I need someone to match me, I like them wild just so I can tame them [smiles] A look can say it all [flexes biceps] I put my whole body in the game so there's no reason to look at me and not want me right? [seductively smiles]

You didn't believe in love at first sight but today, when you saw those five guys walking into the villa, you fell in love five times in one day.

The last guy though, ooh, he exudes a strong aura, a charisma that you rarely find in men. Not to mention, he's big and muscular, you feel the urge to climb him like he was a tree.

Not wanting to make it obvious, you turn your body to the girl standing next to you, a Brazilian hottie, Rita.

"My god, he's delicious," you quietly whisper to her with an overwhelmed sigh.

Rita's eyes automatically search for the one you're talking about, "Who is?"

You glance at where he's standing, "Changbin."

"Who is Changbin?" She innocently asks.

You snicker in response and put your arm around her arm, it's convenient because she has a petite yet toned body.

"You're just one clueless baby, aren't you?"

For now, he's occupied by Riley as she keeps filling his glass with more wine but you can see that he's not that interested in her.

Frankly, you have more to offer to him.

YOU: Changbin... The things I want to do to that man. Ugh! [groans]

The first stop on the tour of the villa is the bedroom and everyone is excited at the number of beds in the room. There are ten of them and only six beds in the room, everyone has to pair up or they can choose to sleep alone on the bed.

Changbin has a plan to get himself a bed partner soon but he doesn't want to be hasty about it. He considers himself lucky that he's been getting the eyes from a couple of girls but he's curious about one girl and that's you.

Frankly, you're just as attractive as the others but you have this charm that inexplicably attracts him, making him want to get to know you more.

He sees you sitting at the end of a bed and decides to sit next to you.

"Where are you going to sleep?" He asks.

You lean back on the bed with your hands propped against the mattress, "I don't know," you answer with a cheeky smile.

"Where do you think should I sleep?" You ask him back with your eyes staring deeply into his eyes.

This level of confidence, not only that he likes it, Changbin feels the need to match it.

"On these big arms," he answers while showing off his big, toned arms.

Catching you ogling at them, he uses it to his advantage to let you touch him, "Want to touch it?"

"I wouldn't say no to that," you answer with a sly smile.

Changbin quickly pumps his arm for a while to present you with his glorious biceps, "You can touch them now," he says.

Your hand flies to feel his muscles, "Oh, wow, that's hard," you say in awe.

"Is that hard enough for you?"

You let out a chuckle, "For now, yeah."

"I can pump it again for you," he jokingly offers.

Your hand glides up his arm and rests it on his shoulder, "Or I can pump it for you next time," you make a lewd joke.

He has to admit that you know how to make him hot and bothered and he's not the type that easily gets hot and bothered.

CHANGBIN: I'm going to keep my options open but I got a head start so now I just have to maintain it.

"So girls, if you have to pick one right now without thinking too much, who would you pick?" Niamh asks with a thick Irish accent.

The girls are all gathered in the firepit to talk about the boys and which one of them they fancy. Sabine gets to be the first to reveal her answer, she turns her head to look at the boys who are hanging out in the cabana.

"I don't know... can I just let them pick me?" Sabine says with a giggle.

That's easy for her to say since she's the most popular girl in the retreat, you bet half of the boys are talking about her right now.

"How about you, Rita?"

Rita is busy playing with her hair to pay attention to the conversation going around the space, "What?"

She happens to sit next to you so you put your hand on her knee to keep her engaged, "Is there anyone you fancy?"

"Oh, I like Liam," she says.

Nico is dark and tall and has a gorgeous smile, you can see why Rita is attracted to him. They would make a cute pair with their height difference.

"Oh, yeah, Liam is one hella piece of chocolate," you nod in agreement.

Rita breaks into laughter at your words, "I bet he'll melt in my mouth," she cheekily says.

Niamh looks at the girl sitting at the end of the sofa, "Riley?"

"I want to keep my options open but I got my eyes on Changbin," she answers.

Welp, there goes your competition.

"You're not upset, right?" Riley thinks you wouldn't catch her throwing a glance at you but she's wrong to think that you'd feel threatened.

"Not at all," you calmly answer.

"Well, he's really hot," Riley shamelessly adds with a laugh.

"He is hot. Who disagrees?" You respond with a coy shrug.

YOU: If she feels like it, just do it. I'll do whatever I want but if someone tries to cut me off then... [blows kisses] bye-bye baby.

"Girls!"

Everyone's head turns to see Liam calling for them from across the swimming pool with the rest of the boys.

"Come, join us!" He says, inviting everyone for an impromptu pool party.

Not long after everyone gets into the water, they scatter to get some move on and you decide to wade your way to the side of the pool.

You have time to get your moves later and if someone snatched your guy away, it would be alright with you, you're here to have fun anyway.

Talking about fun, you see that you're about to get some.

It's hard not to notice that Changbin is making his way to you, his hands are wading in the water as he gets closer to you. With a hand pushed against the wall of the pool next to you, that leaves not much space between your bodies.

Changbin doesn't say anything but looks at you with a smile plastered on his face.

"You look shorter from a distance but you're actually quite tall," you tell him, even though he's only a couple of inches taller than you but men like it whenever a girl compliments their physique.

"Well, I'm huge," he simply says and he probably thinks you won't notice that he slowly closing the gap between your bodies.

Your eyes automatically look at the beads of water trickling down his arms and chest, you don't even try to keep it subtle while doing it.

"Yeah, I can see that," you tell him.

Changbin seems to like being ogled on, his mouth curls into a cocky smirk and it looks so damn attractive on him.

You look at him and brush your wet hair to the back, "How about me?"

"Very hot," he answers without a beat.

The way he eagerly answers you tell how much he's been waiting for you to ask him that, and you can't help but chuckle at it.

"A bit aggressive, okay..." you respond with a nod.

He rests another hand against the wall of the pool, caging you in between while closing another inch of space between your bodies.

"Why not?"

"Well, you could say I'm cute," you answer with your head tilted to the side while maintaining eye contact with him.

His hand moves to your side, holding you by your ribcage with his thumb teasing the elastic band of your bikini top.

"You're cute, you're gorgeous, you have good energy," he compliments you as he steals another inch to get closer to you.

"And you're really hot," he finishes with a flirty smile.

It's in the eyes and the words he said, he knows how to combine those two and turn them into a weapon.

You gently push him away but seeing how big he is, of course, it's a useless effort.

"You're bad, you're a smooth talker," you tell him with giggles.

He puts on a triumphant smile, "You can make me good," he says.

You look away to collect some senses into your head, not wanting to fall into his trap just yet. It's still early, you still want to explore your options.

"Not sure about that but do whatever you want," you tell him with a light head shake.

There comes the sly smirk on his face again, "So, I can do whatever I want, huh?" He says.

You keep your hand on his chest to stop him from coming closer, "Do whatever you want in your personal space," you correct your first remark.

There's no winning against him, Changbin takes another step to close the remaining gap between your bodies, "Well, I'm in your personal space now," he says with his face mere inches away from yours.

Your hand on his chest fails to stop him so you may as well use it to feel his firm muscles. You can feel you're slowly cracking under his intense, lustful gaze. You quickly look to the side and have nothing to say back to him.

He pushes his body against you and you can feel the heat his body emits even though you are both soaked in water. He then leans into the side of your face and whispers, "We're in a shared space now so what's going to happen?"

Changbin knows how to play this game, his eye, his words, and now his whole body is pushed against you, they're all moving under one powerful command and that is to conquer you.

He makes you forget about your surroundings and everyone can see what he's doing to you. You dare yourself to look at him and place your hands on his chest.

Still, you have nothing to say to him knowing that he'll use it against you.

"Come on," he says, getting bolder by putting his arm around your waist.

"Just a kiss," he mutters with his hot breath fanning your neck, not hesitating to kiss your neck afterward.

Oh, fuck, he's so confident and aggressive, the next thing you know, he'll be preying on you. You find it hard to resist him and can only lowly laugh at his persistence but what's the fun of giving him what he wants? This cocky boy needs to learn a little patience.

At once, you push him stronger than before, sending him a few steps back, and that way, you can escape him.

Changbin hits the water and it splashes over you, "Come back!"

You're only laughing at him as you're heading to the steps and before getting out of the pool, you look over your shoulder at Changbin, "Later!."

YOU: I can tell that this guy is going to give me a hard time.

Changbin wouldn't say that he failed, it's just that, you're a little tricky to win over.

He gets it that maybe it's just day one and you want to keep your options open, but he doesn't want to waste time.

Changbin dries himself off with a towel and then sits on the empty lounger.

"I see that you made your move, man," Liam says, sitting on the lounger next to him.

Changbin tosses his towel away and sits with his hands clasped in front of him, "Yeah, but you saw everything, she's acting like—"

"Just let it go, you know, go with the flow, let the gears spin," Liam cooly suggests.

If Liam still wants to go with the flow then that's his choice, but Changbin doesn't see why he should wait when he already knows what he wants and he wants you, there's no one else that catches his interest like you.

He can see that you have quite a fiery personality, you're passionate and forthright, and there's nothing fake about you. He senses that you're a little wild but he knows what to do about it.

"Frankly, I would hook up with all of the girls, they're all attractive," Changbin gives his honest opinion.

Liam nods in approval, his dark curly hair bouncing along with him.

"But she's the one that I can connect with more than the other," Changbin continues as he takes his water tumbler to take a sip.

"Yeah, you make a good match," Liam comments.

Changbin swallows his water before continuing to talk, he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand after.

"I want to know whether it's mutual or not," Changbin says.

"Yeah, yeah," Liam nodding along to his words.

"If it's not then that's the way it is," Changbin finishes then takes another sip of water.

"Then go for it, man! Take control of the game!" Liam encourages him.

It doesn't get to him that he has indeed lost control of the situation. Liam is right and he knows exactly what to do.

Changbin should get back on his feet and call you to the game.

CHANGBIN: It's time to take control of the game [smirks]

Taking advantage of the empty dressing room, you decide to be the first one to shower and put on a new pair of bikini. After drying your hair, you think of putting on something over your bikini.

You're standing in front of your closet as you try to settle on your choice of clothing. Hearing footsteps coming toward you, you close the door of your closet to see who it is.

Knowing his personality, Changbin wouldn't stop until he gets what he wants so you kind of expect that he'll come for you again, but not this soon.

He leans the side of his body against the closet and looks at you, giving you the eyes without saying anything.

"Stop looking at me like that," you tell him with a chuckle.

He stays quiet but crosses his arms on his chest as his smile grows wider on his face.

You turn to face him and ask, "What do you want?"

"What do I want?" He asks you back because he knows that you know.

"Okay, you don't need to say it," you tell him and you can't escape him again, not this time.

He leans in close and sweetly asks, "Can I do it?"

You subtly roll your eyes at him, "Do you even have to—"

With or without your permission, he's going to kiss you anyway so you lean in first and let him do the rest.

The kiss is intense, like you can feel how much he wants it and at the same time, he wants to show you what he is capable of. He puts his arms around you before resting his back against the closet. With the strength he has, you're sure you can't easily escape him this time.

But boy, he knows how to kiss, he knows how to make you dizzy with the way he uses both his plush lips and slick tongue. He makes you feel like breathing isn't necessary, you just want to keep kissing him until you turn blue.

Driven by the desire, you find yourself pushing him against the wall and opening your mouth for him, a moan or two escapes your mouth in between kisses.

When your lungs feel like catching fire, you let go of the kiss but not without sucking on his lower lip first.

Changbin smirks, liking what you're doing to him and you expect no less than that.

You have him caged between your arms now as you catch your breath, looking at him with filthy thoughts in your head and you bet he thinks the same things too.

"I know what you're doing to me," he says.

Well, great minds think alike.

"Mmh? Yeah?" You let your breath brush his cheek.

You crack a laugh at how he stifles a breath as you put your whole weight against him, pressing onto his crotch.

"Are you laughing? How about I throw you onto that table, mmh?" He taunts you but that only gets you excited.

"Shh..." You shush him and press another kiss on his lips to shut him up.

You feel his hand glides down to your ass and fondles it as he deepens the kiss. It's so quiet in the room that you can only hear the smooching sounds of your kisses, it's good that no one comes into the dressing room and interrupts the two of you.

Changbin lets go of your lips to drag his mouth down your neck and kisses you there. You drop your hands around his shoulders, allowing him to bury his head in the crook of your neck.

With one slobbering kiss on the column of your neck, Changbin finally lets go.

"I'd better go," he says.

You giggle because not only that he doing the opposite of what he said, but he tightens his arms around you.

"I'm getting excited," he continues with a heavy sigh.

The growing bulge inside his swimming trunk is apparent and you can feel it without having to look at it, "Yeah, I feel it," you tell him.

Truthfully, you don't feel sorry for turning him on but you do feel bad for not taking responsibility for it. You take a step back to put a space between your bodies yet Changbin pulls you by the elbow to place a long peck on your lips and smiles when he pulls away.

It seems like you're already trapped in his charms but what's there to lose? You win big here.

YOU: I can't say it was bad because it wasn't. It was so fucking good [groans] I want more!

Excitement and jitters are mixed into one in the dressing room as everyone gets ready for tonight.

The excitement comes from everyone getting so hyped up for the first party in the villa while the jitters come from not knowing what the first quest will be.

"What do you think the first quest is?" Niamh asks while coloring her pale cheeks with pink blush.

You cluelessly shake your head, "I have no idea," you answer.

"As long as I don't have to hunt or skin animals, I'm good," Riley says with a laugh.

As for yourself, you feel good about tonight. You put on your best outfit, put make-up on and a thick coat of red lipstick.

The boys are already waiting as you and the other girls are coming to join them by the pool, everyone takes a drink served on the table along with trays of bite-sized food.

Everyone raises their glasses in the air to propose a toast.

"To a good time!" Liam leads the toast.

"To a good time!" Everyone repeats.

Sabine adds a high-pitched scream at the end of the toast as she clinks her glass with yours, sending the sweety alcoholic drink sloshing out of the glass and trickling down your wrist.

You laugh it off and sip your drink at the same time the music starts playing, kicking off the party with an upbeat song.

"Got you!" Someone says, holding you from the back.

From the size of his arms, you can tell who it is. You immediately turn around to face him and put your glass away, "be careful," you warn about the little incident you had earlier with your drink.

Ignoring your warning, Changbin takes your hand and places an open-mouthed kiss on your wrist, from there, he continues his trail of kisses upward, along your arm and stopping at your shoulder.

You giggle as he places a final kiss on your neck, "Put your drink away and dance with me," you say.

He obeys right away, putting his drink on the table nearby and back to putting his hands on your waist. The two of you dance with your foreheads pressed in the middle and your bodies slowly swaying against the fast-paced music.

It's either the weather or the proximity or the intensity of his stare, you find yourself feeling hot inside and out. You can feel a thin layer of sweat forming on your forehead.

Changbin drops his head into your neck and you feel him inhaling your scent.

"Do you like how I smell?" You playfully ask him.

He smiles against your neck and nods, "Smells heavenly."

You place a kiss on his jaw and get a quick sniff of his perfume. He smells of musk and citrus which is something that quite captures him as a person.

"You smell good too," you tell him with a smile.

The hand resting on the arch of your back moves up to the nape of your neck and you can easily guess what he's going to do next.

The second he starts leaning in, you close your eyes and feel his lips on yours the next second. The tongue that pries open your mouth, the hand taking a fistful of your hair and the other one that grips your waist only proves that his kiss is never just a kiss, it's passionate, deep, and hungry, and it consumes you whole.

Ultimately, he does it to show everyone that you're his.

You have to push him by the chest to stop kissing you as you're running out of breath, "I need to breathe, don't you think?"

Changbin responds with a shameless grin and draws you close again, not letting you get away from him.

You wipe the lipstick mark on his lips with your thumb only for him to kiss you again. You roll your eyes at him in response to that.

"It looks good on me so leave it," he coyly says to you.

You manage to dodge away as he's about to kiss you again and laugh at him while he pouts at you.

Changbin sure has a distinct charm that you rarely find in a guy.

You lean in this time and place a long peck on his plump lips, slowly forgetting about your surroundings and that you're filming a TV show.

The lights suddenly off in the villa and the music abruptly stops, everyone turns their heads to the source of lights remaining in the vicinity.

The staff leads everyone to the beach and not long after, you see a boat coming ashore. As everyone else is cheering, you feel a little nervous about it.

"Do you think it's the first quest?" Niamh asks from next to you.

The quests! It only sinks into you now that the show tells you that the guests have to do a series of quests to win the show.

After registering everything, you gasp in surprise, "Oh, my God!"

Someone is getting off the boat and you assume he's the host of the show, he takes a stand on the small platform propped on the sand.

"Welcome to Love Quest!" He starts.

Everyone is cheering and applauding, then Oliver comes out of nowhere and puts his arm around your shoulder, his cheeks are blushed from drinking.

"What do you think we'll do?" He asks the same question with Rita.

"No idea," you honestly tell him.

The host takes a look at everyone with a cryptic smile on his face, "What do you think the first quest is?"

"I don't know but I'll probably shit my pants," Riley answers with a laugh.

"Well, are you ready for it?" The host turns on his feet to look at the boat.

"Yes!" Everyone answers in unison, followed by more claps and cheers.

"Time to find out your first quest!"

Two people are carrying a box down the boat, from the way they carefully place it next to the host with a loud thud, you can tell how heavy it is.

The host holds the handle of the lid of the box and keeps his cryptic smile on his face.

"This is your first quest..."

YOU: Oh, my God! What is about to happen?

Changbin has no idea why everyone is shocked to see a cone rising out of the box.

It must have something to do with the quest right? But why does everyone have to be this devastated? It's just—

Standing next to him, Sabine asks, "Is this what I think it is?"

"What?" Changbin cluelessly asks her back because he's confused still.

"Oh, my God!" Sabine turns panic with her hand flying to cover her mouth.

He looks around and everyone is having similar reactions as Sabine, except him, he's the only one being utterly confused.

Changbin helps Sabine steadies herself and asks, "What? Tell me! What?"

Sabine turns her head at him to finally answer him, "This is too hot to handle."

What is that? He asks himself, going deeper into the pit of confusion. He's more curious as to why everyone is acting like it's the end of the world.

Then the cone chimes and lights up, startling him because he thinks that it's just an air freshener or a portable speaker, not an AI talking robot.

"As you can see, this is no longer Love Quest," Lana begins.

He looks to the side and notices you with your mouth hanging open.

"This is Too Hot To Handle," he cone announces.

"No!" Sabine groans, grabbing at Changbin's arm.

"That means no fun, ever!" She emphasizes every word with deep sorrow.

"You have been specially selected because all of you are having meaningless flings over genuine relationships."

"That's rude!" Niamh shouts at the cone.

While Oliver grins and agrees right away, "Not wrong at all!"

"Since your arrival, I have been gathering data on your wild behavior but from now on, you must adhere to my retreat rules."

Next to Sabine, Changbin sees Liam put his hands on each side of his head, looking upset. He catches him looking, then says, "Oh man, I didn't get to rub one out to like, you know, say goodbye."

Changbin has no idea what it's got to do with the rules or maybe...

"No kissing."

What? Changbin has kissed you so many times only to be told that he can't do it again?

"No heavy petting."

It starts to dawn on him why everyone reacted the way they were when the cone popped out of the box.

"No sex."

He gets why everyone acts like it's the end of the world because it's far worse than that.

"The rules also apply to self-gratification."

"Shit! Fuck!" Changbin curses out of reflex at the mention of it.

Not only that he can't do physical things to other people, he can't even touch his own body. Does that even make sense?

Sabine hits her head at Changbin's arm, "We're fucked!"

"As part of your social development, I have allocated a prize of $200,000," Lana announces.

"That changes everything," Liam comments

There's money on the line now and that motivates everyone to follow the rule and some people are cheering in excitement.

Well, the money sounds good but to earn it by refraining from any sexual practices for a month? That's kind of impossible for Changbin.

"Surely, we can spend a few grand," Oliver says with his arm around you.

Changbin allows him for now as he seems a little tipsy.

"No, man, no!" Liam quickly shuts him off, putting an end to his rebellious ideas.

"But we got 200k of them," Oliver says with a subtle grin.

Liam lightly shakes his head at him, "Oh, no, you're going to mess this up for all of us," he says, sensing troubles in what Oliver said.

Looking at Sabine, Changbin believes that Oliver is going to have a hard time not touching her. Then he looks at you and realizes that it's going to be hell for him too.

"Welcome to your long, hard, sexless summer!"

CHANGBIN: It's too late to back out right? [Clicks tongue] Guess we're going to go with it [sighs]

"That was a bad party," you groan, taking off your strappy heels as it's hard to walk on the sand in them.

Rita links her arm with you to walk back to the villa together, "How much do you think a kiss costs?"

"Two to three grand, I guess?" You wildly guess.

You're familiar with the show but never stayed long to pay attention to how the show works except that it doesn't allow you to get all kinds of sexual with each other which is going to be difficult for you.

All these times, you do things as you please and that includes kissing or even sex. It's so easy for you to do it with anyone because you keep things casual, with no attachments whatsoever which makes it easier.

Now that the fun is being taken away from you, you have no idea how you're going to do it. It becomes harder later that you're sharing a bed with a man that you are physically attracted to.

Seriously though, what have you done that makes you deserve this?

You're not the only one moaning and groaning in complaint about these sudden rules in the villa, the girls can't stop talking as they remove their make-up to get ready for bed. Your bedtime routine takes double the time as you can't help but join in on the chat with the girls.

"Which one do you think is going to be first to rule break?" Riley asks while brushing her long brown hair as she speaks.

"Not me," Niamh immediately answers.

You glance at Sabine who's giggling in response to Riley's question, "Sabine..."

Sabine puts her hand under her chin, "I think we should kiss each other and be the first to break the rules," she gives her opinion.

"That's not a bad idea," Rita agrees with her.

"No, I think we should make the boys sweat a bit," Riley offers another idea.

"I like that more, yes," you agree with her.

"But Oliver is so hot and I'm sharing the bed with him," Sabine whines at you.

You shrug because you have no answer to that, you're in the same predicament as her.

"Sabine, no, honey, you can do it!" Niamh encourages her

You sense that Niamh is going to be the protector of the prize money and you can't blame her for that, it's a lot of money, and you would love to win it.

However, the possibility for you to win that money is close to zero.

"Something about being told not to do something, you know," Riley says, now braiding her hair in one big pigtail.

"I know, right?" Sabine gasps.

For you, rules are something you are never good at following because they are meant to be broken anyway so why bother following them in the first place?

YOU: Now that I can't have it, I want it more [bites lips]

It's been an eventful day and he's looking forward to ending it.

Changbin sees that you're stepping into the room and heading straight to his bed, this is the part he's been looking forward to, he wants to end this day with you.

It sucks that he has Lana's rules to follow but that doesn't stop him from feeling ecstatic to share the bed with you. Especially with you dressed in a short night dress that barely covers your ass.

Oh, it's going to be a long, agonizing night for him to try not to touch you.

A smile dances on your face as you crawl on the bed and sit next to him with your back facing the room, you innocently rest your hand on his thigh like it wouldn't affect him.

"Is this what you're wearing to bed?" You ask him, pinching the hem of his black boxer.

"Yeah," he simply answers, looking at his sleeping attire of a boxer and a black t-shirt.

Changbin tries to look at your face but the plunging neckline of your night dress keeps distracting him, he can also see your nipples poking through the thin fabric.

However, his hand remains steady on your thigh, fingers lightly rubbing the skin to feel how smooth it is.

It's getting a little noisy in the bedroom with everyone talking all at once, or they're simply as excited to share beds.

You look over your shoulder for a while then put your leg between his as you look back at him, "I think it's going to be so weird to have sex in front of people," you suddenly say out of nowhere.

Changbin is half listening when his eyes are busy listing over your body, "Yeah..."

"Not that we're going to," you quickly add with low giggles.

Your hand glides up to his stomach and slipping it under his t-shirt, it's like you know that's his sensitive area.

"Just saying..." you add with a playful grin.

Now that you hinted at it, he can't help but imagine it, and without waiting for his brain to send the command, his hand moves up to your waist and grips it.

"Because you know, you get going..." you slightly grind on his thigh and pretend to moan to show it to him.

"And you know, like, it's going to be so loud," you finish talking with a sly smile on your face, knowing what you just did to him and what it does to him.

Changbin's imagination is getting vivid and he bites his lower lip to suppress the urge to kiss you. He plays with the lace fabric of the hem of your night dress, "Is that how you do it?"

You tip your head to the side, "What? Fast and loud?"

"If we do it fast, I'm not sure you can keep up with me," he says with a daring smirk, fueling his filthy mind with his own words.

You prop your hands against the mattress to hover above him and then mutter, "I just want you to throw me around."

Then you put your body on top of him which he gladly embraces, he can feel your body slowly molding into his and it feels so intimate to feel each other's bodies like this as he puts his arms around you to keep you close.

You feel soft and small against him, Changbin gets the urge to protect and take care of you but at the same time, he wants to rip your clothes off and make you cry out of pleasure.

And he never met someone that made him feel that way until today.

CHANGBIN: She makes me horny as hell, makes me want to get down and dirty right there with her.

Maybe both of you were mentally drained from the revelation that this is not Love Quest anymore and not much happened before you both went to sleep last night.

Through the curtains, you can see that it's already bright outside but the lights aren't on yet.

Changbin's arm is draped around your waist and you clutch it close to your chest, snuggling yourself close to his body.

"Oh?" You lowly gasp, feeling something poking behind you.

You feel tempted to touch it or at least, take a look at it but you refrain, you decide to tease him by rubbing your ass against his morning wood.

It doesn't take long for him to realize what you've been doing to him, he lays his hand flat on your stomach to stop you but you're relentlessly continuing to do it.

"Stop it," he scolds into your ear but you pick up the playful cadence in his sleepy voice.

Ignoring him, you arch your back more and keep teasing him. This time, Changbin firmly grips at your waist to stop you.

"You're going to get me in trouble," he mutters.

You decide to obey him and pull at his arm, wanting him to hold you close again.

Changbin puts away the hair covering your neck then places a long kiss there, he places another kiss on your shoulder blade before cuddling you again.

"Mmh..." he delightfully hums, "I can get used to this."

And you can't think of a better place to wake up to than next to him, it feels warm and snug in his arms and you don't think you'd get it from anyone else but him.

Then the lights are on and the cone chimes, waking up everyone from their slumber.

"Good morning, everyone!" Lana greets.

It's not ideal to start the day hearing the cone talking but then again, you're here under her authority.

"Morning," you sleepily answer.

You lay on your back but Changbin clings to you, burying his head in your neck with his hand resting across your chest.

"Get ready for some fun in the sun but the only way you're going to get wet is getting into the pool."

Lana is a robot but she surely masters sheer sarcasm and you admire her for that, she's not one to mess with.

"Is there any way we can turn her off?" Oliver asks with a gruff voice.

That shifts everyone's attention to his shared bed with Sabine and you notice the subtle smile on her face, "Looking so smug there," you tease her.

Sabine softly chuckles and brushes her hair to the back, not saying anything but resting her head on Oliver's shoulder.

They seem suspicious that Niamh can't help herself but ask, "What's going on, guys?"

"Nothing," Oliver answers for both of them, sweeping his hair to the side.

What everyone is doing is not your business so you choose to mind yours, hugging Changbin and feeling the muscles on his back.

"What are your plans for today?" You ask.

After a moment, he finally answers, "Working out."

"After that?"

"Shower."

"After that?"

"Breakfast."

"And what time are we going to break the rules?" You playfully ask him but you're curious if you both have the same thoughts about it.

Changbin lifts his head to look at you to see if you are serious or not, then cracks a laugh.

"Tonight?" You ask again.

Not getting an answer, you slip your hand into his soft curls and ask again, "Tonight at 8, mmh?"

He looks at you again and you both burst into laughter at the same time. He overlaps your body with his and nuzzles his nose into your neck.

"What do you think we should do, mmh?" You tease him more with a gentle ruffle on his hair, "Kiss? Handy? Sex? Anal?"

Changbin breaks into laughter again and he has the kind of laugh that is infectious, making anyone who hears it laugh along with him.

Jokes aside, you get the feeling that Changbin hesitates to break the rules, you can't tell if is it because of you or if he has his reasons.

Well, there's always a way to find out.

YOU: If he wants to come up to me, he can get some talk, he can get some actions [smirks] I'm up for anything.

Changbin is feeling refreshed after taking a shower.

He worked out a little late into the afternoon because of the big breakfast he had this morning, he felt the need to lose the extra weight he gained and turned them into muscles.

He almost bumps into Liam as he enters the dressing room, not knowing that there are people in there.

"What's up, man?" Nico asks who happens to be there as well, playing with the girls' make-up brushes.

"Not much," Changbin shortly replies as he opens his closet.

Not long after, Oliver comes into the room, grinning ear to ear. He just stands in front of everyone but not saying anything.

Changbin smells trouble from him, "Looking smug. Where have you been?"

"Just had some alone time," he talks almost inaudibly.

"With Sabine?" Nico asks for confirmation.

Oliver starts pacing around the room still slyly smiling, it's like he waits for someone to catch up on it.

"Oh, don't tell me you kissed!" Liam says with a defeated sigh.

Changbin can tell the answer right away from the smile plastered on his face, "It's true," he confirms for anyone.

Liam calls Changbin and even though he's only dressed with a towel around his waist, he helps Liam corner Oliver and forces him to confess.

"Why are you guys so big?" Oliver asks both of them, looking slightly intimidated by their sizes.

"What did you do?" Liam asks him again.

Oliver holds his hands up and nods, "Yeah, we had a little kiss."

"Oh, no, it's only day two, bro!" Nico says from behind Changbin.

With his hands up, Oliver starts to explain, "We had a moment, okay?"

Changbin walks back to his closet to start putting clothes on and sees Liam is still towering over Oliver, "Is that the only thing you did?"

"Yeah," Oliver answers.

Liam then looks around the room to see every there, the boys are all here except for Shane.

"Now if any of us do any rule breaks, I'd appreciate it if you just... fess up," he says to everyone.

Oliver nods in agreement with a winning grin for successfully becoming the first one to break the rules in the retreat.

It's getting interesting now that the first rule break has occurred and it's only about time other people start doing it too.

Changbin wonders if he should do something about his appointment at 8 tonight.

CHANGBIN: Is it going to be my turn? [Smirks] I might do something tonight. We'll see.

It's only about time that someone broke the rules and you're right to put your money on Sabine.

However, you didn't expect that it was going to happen this soon, Sabine and Oliver did it in less than twenty-four hours after Lana's sex ban.

"You think everyone is mad at me?" Sabine nervously asks you.

Everyone shouldn't act like they're going to be perfect going forward, the retreat has only just begun so there's no guarantee that there'll be saints left at the end of the retreat.

"You know I was just waiting for someone to do it," you honestly tell her.

Sabine pauses applying her lip liner and cracks a laugh, "Yeah?"

"Yeah, me and my man have a plan now," you jokingly say.

"What are your plans?"

"We're going to give each other head," you joke.

The actual plan is not very far from it, you're going to look so good tonight that Changbin can't resist you. You check yourself in the full-length mirror in the dressing room and are satisfied with what you see.

"I look so hot," you praise yourself, turning around to see the back view.

Rita comes and puts her arm around your waist, posing together in front of the mirror with you.

"We look hot!"

The night is warm with the scent of the sea clinging in the air. You grab a drink before stepping out of the villa to prepare you for tonight.

"Looking gorgeous," Shane compliments as you meet him by the pool.

You take a moment to look and search for something you can compliment on him "I like the shirt," you say with a quick pull at the collar of his shirt.

"We're kind of matching, you see?"

You're wearing a white top with a black leather skirt while he wears blue jeans with a striped blue and white shirt, the similarities are almost nonexistent but hey, he's just trying to shoot his shot.

"Yeah, we kind of do," you say to him.

Let's see if Shane got game so you stop by the terrace to give him the chance to play.

"Have you ever dated an English guy?" He asks out of the blue.

A bit too strong for an opener but okay, "Nah," you answer.

He takes a step closer, then asks, "Never?"

You look him in the eyes to see if he would flinch, "Yeah."

He coyly sips his drink to stall and continues talking after, "Would you like to?"

A solid 7 out of 10, could be better. You laugh it off and let him die to know the answer.

"You know everyone is attracted to you, right?"

"No, not everyone, I believe," you play humble like how good girls play.

Shane takes another step closer and leans the side of his body against the pillar, "This is good. We should talk more," he says with a flirty smile.

"Well, I'm open to getting to know everyone," you tell him, making sure that you mean it generally, not specifically with him.

Shane runs his hand through his hair, sending it disheveled, even so, it makes him look attractive.

"I think you went in with Changbin so quick," Shane comments.

You nod and admit that it's true, "Yeah."

He then slyly smiles at you, "So, you know—"

Before you can finish listening to Shane talking, someone has his arms around you and without warning, carrying you with him.

Thankfully, you manage to not spill the drink you're holding once Changbin puts you down. He pats the small space left on the small sofa facing the sea view.

You sit with your legs hanging between his and his arm around you, this way you can put your full focus on him. You like seeing the glints in his brown eyes and your eyes flick to his small mouth with its pair of plush lips, looking so inviting as he licks them after taking a sip of your drink.

"What were you talking about?"

Changbin tries to sound cool about this but you sense a hint of jealousy in his words.

"Talking about you, actually," you honestly tell him.

"Yeah?"

He's wearing this tight white top that showcases his sculpted muscles and makes you unconsciously roam your hand on his clothed body.

You lose track of the conversation and innocently mutter, "You're so big..."

Changbin smiles at your words, looking thoroughly happy to hear them, and wants to hear more of it.

"What about it?"

You use your fingers to play with the opening of his top, teasing the skin there, "I like that you're big," you shamelessly admit.

It's impressive how he doesn't flinch as you stare him dead in the eyes. He remains calm with his hand playing with the thin strap of your top.

"Mmh?"

You lean in close and lower your voice as you say, "Makes me wonder if you're big somewhere else too."

Men like it when you're being straightforward like that and it seems to work on Changbin too.

YOU: He is so hot. It's going to be really hard to keep my hands to myself.

Everyone else can look as much as they want but they can only dream of getting it on with you.

Changbin feels like he won big to have you sitting close to him, looking damn attractive in your leather skirt and you're deeply staring into his eyes and your legs are slowly rubbing his inner thigh.

Oh, he knows what you're doing and he sure as hell knows that he's in trouble. The sexual chemistry is there and it's electrifying, awakening every cell in his body.

He looks away for a moment to take a grip on the situation and tries to restart a conversation. Then he looks at your face and how beautiful you are, your nose, your eyes... which reminds him to compliment them.

"You have beautiful eyes," he says.

You snort and put away your drink, "Your eyes are nowhere looking at my eyes," you point out.

That's right, he was looking at your lips when he said it, how they tantalize him.

You put your hand around his neck and gently massage the back of his head, "What are you thinking, mmh?"

There's no way of denying it so Changbin resorts to playing pensive, "Why don't you take a guess?

You're playing with the zipper on the front of his chest, "Uhm... food?" You wildly guess.

He laughs then nods, "That's a pretty good guess."

"No, wait," you take back your answer and take another guess, "it was tits."

You sure know how to amuse him and other than that, make him feel aroused with every little thing you do, including now, when you fix your hair from being blown by the wind.

Changbin has been thinking about it and knowing that someone has broken the rules making it easier for him to decide.

It's his turn to break the rules now but before that, he looks around, making sure the coast is clear, he sees that everyone else is gathered in the firepit.

Changbin looks back at you, then his hand reaches for your chin to bring your head close to his so he can kiss you. He likes how eager you are to receive his kiss and return it in such eagerness.

He holds you by the jaw, his thumb pulling at your lower lip to make you open your mouth for him so he can kiss you deeper, harder.

He wants to keep going and get drunk in your sweet, sweet kiss. He's tugging your lower lip between his teeth before pulling away.

Once he breaks the kiss, he looks at you at your parted mouth and your lips wet from the kisses, you're smiling when you open your eyes.

All of sudden, you throw your arms around him and mutter, "That was a good kiss."

He plants a kiss on your shoulder and another one on your neck, "I know."

You sit back on the sofa to get your drink and secretly look at where everyone is gathering, "Did they notice?" You ask him.

He throws his head back to look behind him and shakes his head, "I don't think so."

Breaking the rules is not as bad as he thought it would be, it was easy and strangely fun, he's sure it's coming from the rush of doing it without getting caught by anyone.

Changbin can only hope he doesn't get addicted to the rush.

CHANGBIN: So it happens, my first rule break. I knew it was wrong but I still wanted to do it so... [shrugs]

Despite the strong wind blowing your way, it doesn't help keeping you away from sweating.

You use the back of your hand to dab at the thin layer of sweat forming on your forehead but you feel like your make-up is fading away with the night.

Putting your empty glass away, you break away from Changbin's cuddle.

"Where are you going?" He asks.

You get up from the sofa and fix your skirt, "I'm going to fix my make-up quick," you answer.

He takes your hand, not letting you go, "You can do it later."

You smile at him, "I'll be quick," you say.

On the way to the dressing room, Rita joined you and it just happens that she seems to have the urge to tell you something.

"Now that Riley has given up on your man, she's going for Liam," Rita informs.

You sit on your chair and unzip your make-up pouch, "Really?"

Rita leans against the vanity table and crosses her arms in front of her, "So I was there with there with Liam then Riley joined in and she won't stop talking," she grumbles.

Riley does seem like the talkative type and you can imagine her butting in between Rita and Liam, talking non-stop.

"She keeps going on and on..." Rita complaints.

You feel bad for Rita but can't help but laugh. You gently powder your nose and make sure its

"Is Liam the only one or is there anyone else you fancy?" You ask out of curiosity, taking out a tube of lip gloss out of your pouch next.

Rita gets quiet and rolls her eyes as she thinks of an answer, "I was the first to call dibs on Liam," she innocently says.

You snicker because she makes it sound like it's a child's play, "What about Nico?"

"Nico? Hmm..." Rita has an adorable habit of pinching her cheek when she thinks.

You shift on your chair to look at her, "But you know, if you want to see how things go with Liam, then go for it," you suggest.

"I'm going to do that," she says while bobbing her head in agreement.

"Then get your cute butt there," You encourage her because you don't want her to overthink things when she should just do what she wants.

She squeals in response and takes a hairbrush from her table to fix her hair, "I believe Riley is still talking when I get there," she says with a dramatic eye roll.

As she turns around to leave, you land a gentle slap on her butt, "Go get your man!"

Now that Rita left the room, you can put on a fresh coat of lip gloss on your lips and take a quick look in the mirror only to find Changbin is checking you out in the doorway.

"You told me you'd be quick," he whines.

You laugh at how he's fussing like a toddler, "I was about to walk out—"

You get cut off as he comes crashing his body against yours, hugging you so tight with his hands feeling your clothed body.

It's obvious that he's horny. You hold him back and let him bury his head in your neck, "We're going back out there or stay here?"

Changbin doesn't say anything but looks at you, his eyes are looking at your lips and filled with so much want. You kind of have guessed that he would be coming back for more because honestly, one kiss is never enough.

"You can throw me onto the table if you want," you jokingly say with a flirty smile on.

With smoldering eyes and a smirk on his face, he lifts you by the waist to sit you on the table, that way he can be at the same eye level with you.

You loop your hands around his neck and pull him close, "And now we can kiss," you whisper with your face only inches away from him.

And just like that, he caves in and kisses you. This time his kiss has intensity to it and for a moment, you feel like he's devouring you whole which is turning you on.

Changbin slides his hand down your leg and lifts it, wrapping it around his waist to close the gap between your bodies.

His other hand is angling your head slightly to the side just so he can kiss deeper, skillfully using his tongue to make you feel the slightest bit lightheaded.

A moan slips out of your mouth as he squeezes the back of your thigh. You feel faint not only because it's one of the sensitive parts of your body but also because of how close his hand is to where you want him the most.

Then the sound of heels clicking against the floor shatters the tension in the room and the two of you abruptly stop kissing.

Your head turns in the direction of the doorway and see Sabine grinning at both of you.

"I caught you rulebreaking!" She says in a sing-song voice.

"Shit!" Changbin quietly mutters as he looks away from her.

Sabine walks to her closet, "Don't worry. I won't tell anyone!" She says while switching the shoes she's wearing with sandals.

After she leaves the room, Changbin pulls you into a hug and nuzzles his head in your neck.

You jokingly pull his head close, "Okay, now, come back."

He breaks into laughter and kisses you on the cheek to compensate for not being able to give you what you want.

It's already hard to get him to rulebreak and it would take a long time for him to fall into the temptations again.

YOU: [Snickers] I don't know what's wrong with us. I don't know why we're doing it again [laughs]

Changbin jumps onto his bed, feeling so tired but inside, he's feeling euphoric.

"What's going on, big boy?" Nico asks from the next bed.

Changbin pretends to look exhausted and stretches his arms out, "I didn't do much tonight," he lies.

He knows he can't be the only one breaking the rules tonight but it's safe for him to keep a calm expression to avoid suspicion.

When he looks at the boys, he notices the smugness on their faces and they probably can see it on him too. For now, he saves the worries about the money for tomorrow.

Changbin stops thinking altogether when you climb onto the bed, wearing a white tank top and tight shorts. If only he was alone with you... oh, he's scared to even try to imagine it.

You sit cross-legged on the bed facing him, looking so beautiful even with a bare face, "Isn't it hot to sleep with a t-shirt on?"

"You can just tell me if you want me to sleep naked," he says with a mischievous smile.

"You know, I always sleep naked," you share then sips water from your tumbler.

He puts his hand on your knee "Then why aren't you?"

You put on a daring glare at him, "Do you want me to? Cause I would," you say.

If there's anything he learned from being around for these past two days is that he shouldn't challenge you because, in the end, he'll end up losing to you.

When the lights are out, he puts his arm out so you can rest your head on it but instead of that, you overlap his body with yours.

"I'm not sleepy yet," you whisper into his ear.

"Anything you want to do?" He asks and regrets it the second after he says it. He shouldn't give you ideas or worse is letting himself open to your ideas.

"A lot," you answer with a hot kiss on his neck.

Changbin feels threatened as you start placing kisses around his face, his heart skips when you get too close to his lips but he sulks when you don't do it.

You have your hand slipped under his t-shirt, splaying it on his stomach and feeling his skin there. You lean in close, rubbing your nose against his and teasing his lips with the warm breath you let out of your parted mouth.

"Want to rule break again?" You ask with your thumb swiping his lower lip.

Oh, Changbin is being put in a predicament once again. You best believe that he wants to do and will do whatever it is you want because that's what he wants too.

However, he promised himself that he wouldn't do another rule break for the rest of the night.

He hates to say no to you so he tries to lay it as gently as he can so he softly caresses your head, then takes the hand holding his face to kiss the inside of your hand.

"That's enough of a rule break for today," he murmurs with an apologetic smile.

Even in the dark, he can see you softly smile at him and nod, "Okay."

It's not about the compliance, you can be a little wayward to him but Changbin likes that you know when to hold back. Yes, he takes pride in being dominant but that doesn't mean he can force you to do what he says, you are your own person after all.

You sweetly kiss him on the cheek and mutter, "Goodnight, Changbin."

He plants a kiss on your jaw in return and mutters back, "Goodnight, angel."

For someone who has known him for a couple of days, you understand him well and that says something.

CHANGBIN: A kiss with her is always too good but it's bad because it's making me hornier [chuckles]

The day starts with Lana's morning greeting.

For a second, you thought Lana was about to announce the rule breaks right after everyone woke up and that would be so cruel of her but you're glad she didn't.

Changbin nuzzles his nose against your neck before placing a soft kiss on your shoulder. You open your eyes and see him smiling at you.

"How was your sleep?" You croak, putting your hand under his t-shirt to feel the skin on his back.

He kisses you on the arm and softly sighs, "I got bit by mosquitoes last night."

"That was me. Sorry," you joke.

That amuses him so much, that he laughs with his head buried in your neck and playfully biting at your shoulder.

When he stops, you look at him and say, "I'm not sorry actually."

With freshly showered hair, you're doing your make-up with Rita while Niamh is also dressing the other part of the room. You look at Rita whose hair is flying around her head as she's drying it.

"So, how did it go?"

Rita turns off her hairdryer, "What?"

"With Liam last night?"

"I don't know. He's been very vague about it," Rita answers, sounding as confused as her answer.

You put down your eyebrow pencil and look at her, "He probably wants to keep his options open for—"

The melodic chime coming from the cone in the corner of the room interrupted you from talking and your heart starts to sink, knowing that you committed a couple of rule breaks yesterday.

"Hello, girls!" Lana greets.

Niamh pops her head from behind the room where everyone is using to change their clothes.

"Hey, Lana..." you answer with sheer enthusiasm.

"Please gather everyone in the cabana," she orders.

You exchange a horrified look with Rita and grimace at the horror looming over you the second you hear Lana's voice.

"Sure, babe," Rita is replying to her this time.

You know exactly what's going to happen in the cabana and it's none other than the time to get publicly shamed by a talking cone.

There's only one seat left on the small wooden sofa at one side of the room and you sit there, having no one there to help you calm down.

"Okay, guys, who kissed who?" Nico asks everyone.

Niamh couldn't be faster responding to it, "I didn't kiss anyone," she says.

"Me too," Rita says.

As if it would help take everyone's suspicion off you, you're avoiding their eyes and trying to act calm. You are calm until Sabine places her hand on your knee.

"Babe? Did you kiss?"

That's so sly of her to ask you that when she walked in on you and Changbin kissing in the dressing room. You scrunch your nose and decide to lie, "Nah, I didn't."

Sabine slyly smiles at your answer and lets it go as the cone chimes in the middle of the table.

YOU: I know for sure that Changbin and I kissed twice but I'm not saying a word. I'm hoping Lana didn't see [snorts]

"Hello, everyone!"

Changbin tries to remain calm but he can't quite control his body, his heart is racing and his palms are starting to sweat. He can only hope that he's putting on a good poker face.

"What's happening, Lana?" Shane asks from the other end of the sofa.

"You were brought here to form deeper emotional connections and were given rules to adhere to."

Lana is an artificial intelligence but Changbin can hear the displease in her voice and she sounds upset.

"This is tense," Nico says with a heavy sigh.

"Yeah..." Oliver says.

"Despite this, your flagrant disregard for the rules has resulted in a deduction of..."

Changbin knows he takes part in that deduction and he can feel the guilt starting to seep into his mind.

"$15,000."

Everyone collectively gasps at the announcement of how much money has been lost from the prize fund and it's only the third day now.

But this also means that he's not the only one screwed up last night.

"That's the most expensive 25 hours I've ever lived," Oliver says as if he didn't spend some of that money.

"You guys are blowing it," Niamh says with a disappointed look on her face, genuinely pissed at losing money.

"In total, there were five rule breaks," Lana informs.

"Five?" Nico says with a shocked face.

"Anyone want to admit to anything?" Rita says.

Changbin glances at you and he sees that you're also looking at him, exchanging unspoken words through the eyes.

Staying silent is not an option for him, he knows better that he has to own up to his mistakes.

"Changbin and I kissed last night," you get ahead of him.

He feels less nervous to talk now that those words are out, "Yeah, we kissed."

"We had a moment and it was perfect," you add, explaining the things that led to the kiss.

"Just one kiss?" Niamh asks.

It's like something caught in your throat and you abruptly stop talking, it's time for Changbin to take over.

"No, we uh... we kissed again in the dressing room," Changbin admits.

He's expecting shouting or yelling coming at him but they're quiet, he can only hear a few deep sighs.

"Well, there's three more we need to account for," Rita says, leaning back on the sofa and crossing her arms together.

"Sabine?" You call her name loud enough for everyone to hear even though she's sitting next to you.

"What?" Sabine plays dumb.

"We knew about your kiss at the beach," Rita says to her.

Niamh scoots forward on her seat and looks at Sabine, "Is that it?"

Sabine looks at Oliver and everyone knows right away they had more than one kiss.

"Yeah, okay, we kissed twice," Oliver finally confesses with an unapologetic grin on his face.

Oliver's confession is also greeted by more sighs and Changbin feels a lot better now that he's not the only one being scrutinized at the moment.

"One more to go now," Nico mutters, scanning everyone's faces to spot the guilty ones.

"Honesty is the best policy, you guys!" Niamh warns.

Everyone wouldn't let it go until the last culprit comes forward and Changbin just wants to get this over with.

A moment passed in silence until Riley pointed at someone, "I kissed Liam."

"Look at you sitting there all quiet," Changbin mutters at Liam who happens to sit two seats away from him.

Ironic that he was the one who warned everyone to speak out immediately when they messed up yet he's the last one to do it.

"I felt a little something for Riley so I don't regret it," Liam explains.

He notices that you're exchanging looks with Rita as she seems to be upset upon hearing what Liam uttered to everyone.

"The prize fund now stands at $185,000," Lana updates before signing off.

Changbin does the math in his head and is slightly shocked to find out how much he spent but at that moment, last night, the kisses felt worth more than that.

However, everything changes now after hearing how much it costs.

CHANGBIN: $15,000... that's a lot. I'm feeling guilty now.

When Changbin hears that there's going to be a workshop, he hopes it's something that will help him control his urges.

The moment he gets told that he has to pair up with you, he doubts that it would help him much.

"Hello, I'm Billy," The instructor introduces himself, "I'm a sex expert."

"Whoo!" Oliver excitedly reacts.

"How are you all doing?" Billy asks.

"Good!" Everyone answers in unison, sitting on their respective mats for the workshop.

"Today's workshop is about ways you can connect with somebody without sex," Billy announces the lesson for the workshop.

"Breath is a huge thing so when you feel sexual tension, step away and go do your breathing, it'll help you profoundly."

Changbin feels skeptical at first but he knows now that it's possible to keep his impulses in control.

Billy then turns over a picture showing a cuddling position and everyone should do it with their partner. You crawl over to him and sit cross-legged on the space between his legs.

It takes him a moment to study the picture, he puts his arms around you and you intertwine them together in front of you.

"Hand over your heart," Billy reminds him.

He places his clasped hand on your heart and he accidentally brushes your breast in the process.

You lowly giggle in response and look over your shoulder at him, "Over my heart, not my tits."

He presses his mouth close to your ear, "It happens that your tit is close to your heart," he playfully replies.

"Breathe..." Billy instructed as he's he's pacing back and forth observing everyone, "Connect with them on a deeper level."

Changbin does what he said and closes his eyes, breathing in and out, eventually syncing your breathing together. It feels nice, he feels relaxed.

Billy walks up to Sabine and Oliver, "How do you feel in that position?"

"Damn good," Oliver shamelessly answers, making Sabine laughs in embarrassment.

Billy walks back to the front and flips a new picture on the easel, "It's going to get a little bit intimate..."

He then reveals the next position for everyone to see, he's grinning as he says, "I think you guys can handle it."

Changbin applies the lesson right away, inhaling air and exhaling it as he sits on the mat.

Okay, it's getting hard to try not to think about sex when you're sitting on his lap and your legs wrapped around his waist.

"Don't I look good on top of you?" You ask with a sly smile on your face.

He takes a deep breath and puts his hands on each side of your waist, "Yeah," he answers, can't stop his brain from imagining it.

It doesn't get any easier with the way you're looking deep into his eyes and Changbin reckons he should look away.

He pulls you close and rests his head against your chest, listening to your steady heartbeat helping him to calm down.

"How are you guys doing?" Billy asks him.

"We're doing good," you answer for both of you.

After he leaves, you look back at him and put your hands around his neck, "Good, right?"

Changbin bets that you know how good it is for him as you sit right on his crotch. The sexual tension is getting unbearable and breathing doesn't help him as much as it did before.

Thankfully, Billy ends the workshop before it gets dangerous.

"Thank you, all of you beautiful people and I appreciate you for being present with me," he concludes.

Everyone is giving him a round of applause as a token of gratitude for his lesson.

CHANGBIN: It's clear that we have a strong sexual chemistry but I also sense that there's something genuine there.

It's unclear whether Changbin is up to doing something naughty tonight.

Nevertheless, you're putting on a tight dress and a luscious coat of lipstick, you know he can't resist you when you look this good.

Changbin is talking to Nico when you come and put his arm around you, wanting to get his attention. Successfully having him for yourself, you corner him and take him to sit together on the lounger.

"You look good tonight," you compliment, feeling his pecs through his black shirt.

He reacts with a mix of shy and cocky smiles, you don't know how he does that but it looks good on him.

You bring your mouth close to his ear and murmur, "You look so delicious."

Changbin is oddly quiet tonight and you guess you just need to warm him up, showering him with compliments and talking about random things.

"I only noticed it now that you have a dimple," you say.

Changbin smiles again for you to showcase it and you use your finger to poke the dimple on his cheek.

"Your cheek is squishy too," you playfully poking at it while giggling.

"I think my right cheek is more squishy," he disagrees with you, poking his other cheek with his index finger.

He looks so cute doing it and out of nowhere, you feel like biting at his cheek and doing it.

"Why did you do that?"

"Nom nom nom nom," you tease him instead of answering.

Changbin pulls you close and gently bites at your arm to get back at you, sending you laughing uncontrollably.

Now that he's warming up and relaxed, it's time to find out if he plans to do something about the night. You rest your hand on his chest, fiddling with the button of his shirt as you talk.

"What are we going to do tonight, mmh?"

He only smiles at you with his hand caressing your back.

You press your head close to his and lower your voice as you say, "How about you finger me in secret?"

He bursts into laughter and pulls you closer, holding you with his arms around you, but it feels more like he's trying to restrain you.

"We're going to be good tonight," he tells you.

The message is well-received.

You fully understand if he doesn't want to rulebreak tonight and you're alright with it, you don't want to pressure him to do something he doesn't want.

You press a kiss on his cheek and then rest your head on his chest, "Yeah, sure, we can be good."

Also, perhaps he needs a little breather too.

YOU: He doesn't want to rulebreak tonight but who knows about tomorrow? [Raises eyebrow]

Just like Billy said, Changbin get away and do his breathing as the sexual tension is only rising when he's with you.

Most of everyone is gathering in the cabana so he goes there, trying to get his mind distracted by talking to other people than you.

Nico is sipping his drink and silently watching Sabine and Oliver canoodling by the firepit.

"I don't know if Sabine were like flirty with anybody but I kind of want to make Ollie cry," he says to him.

Changbin feels like getting another drink but he stays seated for the drama.

"Do it, man!" He encourages him.

The next thing he knows, the night is getting late and it's time to turn in for the night.

He manages to not rule break today as he planned but it doesn't feel like an achievement at all, if anything, he feels like shit for saying no to kissing you. Now, he has the image of your eyes dimmed when he told you he doesn't want to rulebreak tonight replaying in the back of his head.

It's not dramatic of him to feel ecstatic to see you get on the bed, he barely saw you after you both cuddled on the lounger earlier.

"Where have you been, baby?" He asks you.

You dive right into his arms and rest your head on his chest, "Talking with Rita," you mumble your answer.

He notices that you sound exhausted, "Tired?"

You turn your head to look at him and nod.

The moment the lights turn off, you get off of him to sleep on your side of the bed.

"Goodnight, fam!" Liam says to everyone in the dark.

"Night," a few replying to him.

Changbin doesn't want to assume things but he's scared that the reason why you feel a little distant is because he said no to rulebreak with you.

Then you're shifting on the bed and he sees you trying to take your top off under the duvet, you notice him watching.

"It's hot," you mutter at him, putting your top on the bedside table before laying on your side with your back facing him.

And he can see what you're trying to do to him.

Changbin scoots closer until his chest meets your back, he then traces the curve of your body with his hand, only using his fingertips to touch you.

He feels nothing but miles and miles of silky soft skin.

"Are you ticklish?" He asks, dropping his voice low and sultry.

"No," you answer.

That only encourages him to touch you more, exploring your body while trying to avoid it becoming something sexual. He presses his mouth on the back of your shoulder and softly inhales your scent while his hand caresses your abdomen with his knuckle.

With the way your body slightly shaking, he knows you're holding in your laughter.

"Tickles, mmh?"

"Not really."

Changbin lowers his hand down your waist and keeps going until his hand lands on the softness of the back of your thigh, caressing it with his knuckle.

"How about now?"

You shake your head.

He has no other option but to squeeze the flesh and you jolt on the bed. You take his hand out of the duvet and turn your head to scold him.

Before you can do that, he captures your lips in his. He knows he catches you off guard but you manage to return his kiss.

Changbin pulls away to have you pinned under him before leaning in and kissing you again. You moan as he puts his whole weight on you, sending your breasts squashed between your chests.

He's aware that everyone else in the room can see it but something about doing it in secret makes it inexplicably kinky.

CHANGBIN: If I'm being honest... I want to eat her all up [smirks]

Another day means another session of listening to a talking cone.

Changbin is prepared to face everyone when he comes clean about what he's done with you last night. It's the only rule break he did yesterday and he knows it's not progress but he feels good knowing that he showed a little more restraint than the last time.

Other than that, he's sitting next to you now so he feels reassured, knowing that you have his back.

The cone chimes at the same time he takes your hand and holds it.

"Hello, everyone!"

Everyone gets tensed as soon as Lana talks even though she hasn't said anything but her usual greeting.

"What's up, babes?" Rita replies to her, sounding chipper than usual.

"The rules of my retreat have been broken," She announces.

Here it goes, Changbin says in his head. He takes a deep breath and squeezes at your hand.

"Is there anybody who wants to come clean?"

Changbin clears his throat before speaking, "I want everyone to know that it was me who started it," he begins, taking full responsibility for what he's done.

"It was me, I kissed her last night."

His confession is yet again getting answered by low groans and sighs, he understands that he let them down but... oh, well.

"The kiss has cost the group $3,000."

There goes another $3,000 down the drain and Changbin admits he did wrong for making the same mistake.

"Anyone else wants to fess up?" Niamh asks.

The grin on Oliver's face is unmissable and that means he did something, most likely a bad thing.

"Did you two kiss again?" Liam asks him, pressuring them to talk with laser in his eyes.

Oliver rubs his chin while Sabine can only look at him, waiting for him to speak for both of them. He deeply sighs, then nods, "Yeah, we did."

"Just once?"

Oliver nods again, "Just once, I swear."

Lana confirms by announcing another $3,000 has been deducted from the prize fund.

Changbin feels a lot lighter now after telling the truth and accepting the truth that a chunk of money is gone because of him but it's too early for him to let out a sigh of relief yet.

"They were not the only ones to break the rules," Lana informs.

"My God?" Sabine scoffs.

Changbin is on the hunt for the culprit, he scans for any guilty faces sitting on the sofa and not realizing that you've been fidgeting next to him.

He turns his head at you and wonders if...

You uneasily look at him, then say, "It was me."

CHANGBIN: What the fuck is going on?

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riaki · 4 months

Text

winner | satoru gojo x reader

"i hate you."

three words that destroyed the very world satoru had spent building with you for the past nine months. his footing gives way beneath his feet and he can feel himself slipping, scrambling for purchase on an icy slope while your cold words bite at him like an icy, bitter wind.

his world is collapsing. it hurts to think, and it hurts to look at you, and the way you're looking at him hurts. like he's chewed gum on the bottom of your shoe, mangled and ugly.

you've always been easy on his eyes. god, it normally never hurts to look at you. the burden of his cursed gaze feels a little lighter when the world around him is brighter and sweeter and softer because of your pretty smile. suguru eats sweets to wash away the taste of cursed spirits, and you're the eye candy that relieves the migraines behind satoru's six eyes.

at least, you were.

the hot summer sun beats down against the cement of the sidewalk; the streets blur and waver with shimmers of heat and the mirages of puddles on the road. the two of you stand to the side, shirt pinched between your fingers as you fan yourself to try to alleviate the heat on your skin, wondering why you decided to go out today.

tokyo is hot during the summer. the value of yen is lower than normal, so tourist season swings about like a tsunami, flooding the streets with families and travelers who explore on the trail of their wanderlust. shibuya is crowded and there are foreign footprints all over akihabara. the cute shop awning you're standing under reminds you of a beach umbrella, but the image of hot white sand and pristine crystal waters only makes you feel dizzier with the heat.

satoru is used to the summer heat, and the complaining that comes with it. it doesn't help that lately, it's all that suguru ever talks about. he's starting to think he should've bought a popsicle for his best friend, too.

but then you speak again, and he's immediately snapped back into reality like a slap to the face; your voice drips with venom, normally so sweet but there's poison in your veins, polluting your heart.

"i can't believe you won. of all people." you complained.

satoru gets under your skin like no other.

satoru looks down at his popsicle; a baby blue, soda-flavored. everything seems to come with a soda flavor. icy sweetness melts away, dripping down the wooden stick and sliding over his fingers, blue against his skin like veins of sugar. he rubs his forehead, scowling and squinting. the heat is giving him a headache; the popsicle helped, but your angry glares make him want to hide in the freezer box you both picked your lucky desserts from.

his popsticle stick has one word etched into it; when he looks over at yours, it's just smooth, tanned wood. no marks.

'winner'. that's what it says on satoru's popsicle stick. suddenly, the syrup feels as sweet as strawberry jam in his mouth and the sour look on your face makes it all the better. an unabashed, unbridled grin spreads across his lips stained blue, shit-eating and awful and it only makes you despise your boyfriend more.

so that’s what you’re so pissed at him for. he looks like the cheshire cat with white fur and shades. suddenly, his world is right as rain again and everything is brighter when you look at him like you want to rip his guts out and cook them on the burning hot sidewalk. ah, true love.

he opens his mouth to speak, swiping his soda-stained tongue over his lips, reveling in the way your jaw clenches in irritation as your ice pop melts in your hands under the searing summer heat.

“well, guess we know who’s side the gods are on today—”

“shut up.”

satoru just grins, leaning in and pushing the hair away from your face to press a quick, syrup-flavored smooch to your forehead. the heat clings to your skin, but the little imprint of his lips on your skin leave a cool, tingling feeling that has you smiling, even though you hate that he won and you didn’t.

satoru gets under your skin like no other, and finds his way to your heart.

my (riaki) stuff. don't repost and / or plagiarize !

403 notes · View notes

difficultdomains · 5 months

Text

affection

summary: after suguru leaves, you notice curses lingering around you. you go to confront him about it, but by meeting him again, you discover that some things seem to remain intact, even when you expect them to have been broken long ago.

c/w: sfw, sorcerer!reader, cultleader!geto, swearing, smoking & cigarettes, lovers to enemies to lovers kind of??, reader was negatively impacted by geto leaving & is lowkey obsessed with him, geto is lowkey obsessed with reader hehe, POV switches, no use of y/n

w/c: 1.2k

a/n: this was a just random thought that refused to leave my brain after i saw this (artwork by the great @521jie on X/Twitter!!). this is the verY first time i’ve ever written a proper fic (in my noTES APP ekkxkd) and posted it soooo (hELP LMAO) see it as an experiment. anyways enjoy - or don’t, your choice.

💿: no devotion - TENDER (A-side) // ache - FKA twigs (B-side)

————————————————————————

An auditory hallucination.

There was no other plausible way to explain this.

When he heard his own name cutting through the pattering hum of the rain, he couldn’t help but choke on the cigarette smoke he’d just inhaled, violent coughs instantly ripping through his lungs.

Lured into turning towards the strangely familiar voice, he expected to be met with nothing but endless rows of trees surrounding his temple.

Auditory and visual? Can‘t be.

It really was you - stalking towards him through the muddy grass, hair glued to your wet cheeks, and wearing a scowl he had never seen on your face before.

His name slipped over your lips again, raw animosity packed tightly into each syllable. It made his heartbeat stutter - but not out of fear. He tried his best to suppress a smile.

”You need to stay the fuck out of my business,” you snarled, almost baring your teeth at him like a wild animal.

You looked disheveled at best, uniform dirty and ripped like you‘d just come from a fight - or a particularly rough mission.

He tilted his head, losing against the lopsided grin that spread across his lips.

You were even more alluring than he remembered.

Your stance, your demeanor, your energy - you were there, right in front of him - but you felt so different.

It must be true then.

Mere months after he had left, the rumours surrounding you caught up to him. You had changed, evolved, fallen heir to that damned position that previously belonged to him.

It had made you impulsive. Reckless even.

There were whispers of binding vows and devilish pacts - your soul exchanged for power. That one he could only ever scoff at.

Ridiculous.

Your soul was already spoken for, traded on a mellow spring evening many years ago, the same day he had lost his own.

Through the nagging ache in his stomach he had tried to convince himself that you were someone who wouldn’t venture out and look for trouble - just because you could.

At least that’s who you used to be.

So the very moment he sent out that first curse, tasked solely with keeping a watchful eye over you while you complete your missions, he was aware that you would absolutely hate this - if you ever found out.

And now it seemed like you had.

”You came all this way just to tell me that?“

He took another drag of his burned-out cigarette, feigning nonchalance to conceal his shaky hands. Fucking adrenaline.

”This could’ve been a text, darling.“

Withstanding the look of your frozen-over eyes was easy. But he did wonder if the ice around your irises was unbreakable.

You scoffed at him. What a bastard.

Three years.

For three whole years, you had seen remnants of his face in every person you passed on the street. Found traces of his energy in every grotesque curse you exorcised.

The slope of his nose, the curve of his lips, the limitless patience in his eyes - you were cursed with never forgetting them. There was hardly a day where your subconscious hadn‘t forced you to face him, awake or asleep.

And now there he was - flashing you that same old stupid smile. Your lungs constricted with every breath.

His hair was longer than the last time you’d seen him, his features sharper, more refined. You clenched your cold fingers into fists, physically denying yourself the primal urge to just reach out and touch.

He must have been woven out of pure magnetism, his mere presence was enough to pull you towards him. It was impossible to blame anyone for mistaking him for some celestial being and finding themself trapped in his orbit.

You had been his first victim, after all.

However, he had made his choice.

And you had made yours.

A definite, irreversible reminder, stomping out any links that existed between you two.

Or at least it should have.

The driving anger that had brought you here in the first place crept its way back into your guts, pushing away any residual fondness and making you cross your arms and lift your chin. You were not going to humor his remark with a response.

“Why?“ A demand, not a question.

“Why do you send them after me?“

No combination of words could answer this without revealing to you what was locked away deep in his chest.

He chuckled quietly, seemingly unbothered, but his restless hands gave him away, driving cracks into his carefully crafted facade. They disappeared into his pockets, only to pull out a pack of cigarettes.

“For old times‘ sake?“

He extended his arm, just enough so you could reach the top of the pack but not the fingers that held it at the bottom.

You glared at him with knitted eyebrows when a bright orange something, carefully stuffed between the remaining cigarettes, caught your attention.

When you realized what you were looking at, your eyes widened, instantly shooting back up to his face.

His grin had turned sheepish. Caught.

”Your lighter. Is it-„

”Yes.“

Slender fingers quickly pulled the lighter out, throwing it to you effortlessly.

You managed to catch it, flipping it around in your palm a couple of times. It was cheap, worn out from extensive use, and painfully ordinary.

Scribbled on the back, however, was an almost faded, uneven black heart. Done with an equally cheap permanent marker and by no one other than yourself.

You had given it to him a lifetime ago, shortly after the two of you had acquired your first shared pack. You had felt so awfully grown up back then.

”I can’t believe that thing still works,” you whispered, more to yourself than to him.

His eyes darted away from you as if you had turned into the blinding sun herself.

”I take care of it, you know.“

Did you just walk into a trap?

You took in a sharp breath, the implication that came with the tiny mundane object in your hand was more than you could handle.

Your vision blurred for a fraction of a second, you tried to blink it away - but all you could see in front of you was him. Not the cult leader, the murderer, the curse user. Just him.

He’d expected many things to happen between the two of you, but not this kind of silence. Curiosity overwhelmed him, forcing his gaze back onto your face.

What he found there was a kaleidoscope of emotions, rapidly flickering across your features. Like hinges on a rusty old gate, they broke, tearing down what you had so rigorously molded around yourself.

The window he was peering through was small - and he could feel that he had absolutely no time to lose.

So he gave in, cutting across the two wooden steps leading down from the veranda, cigarettes long forgotten and dropped. Cold, merciless little daggers of rain immediately punctured his skin, but when his hands found your skin, it was so velvety, so warm under his touch.

You flinched at the familiar contact and closed your eyes. The soft pads of his fingers on your cheeks were a siren’s song, engulfing you, tugging you further and further into depths that you knew you wouldn’t ever be able to emerge from.

He didn‘t move his hands away.

You didn’t want him to.

His fingers brushed across your right cheekbone until they found their way through the tangles of your hair and to the back of your neck. He gently pulled you towards him, until your foreheads met and the air you breathed became the same.

”I‘ve been expecting you. Every day.“

Eternity passed.

You opened your eyes.

Maybe it was just the reflection of his own eyes in your blown-out pupils.

But there it was again.

Affection.

————————————————————————

I’m kinda playing with the idea of writing a what happens after to this, but who knows…

#noon.writes #geto #geto suguru #geto x reader #geto x you #geto x y/n #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x you #geto suguru x y/n #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #geto angst #geto headcannons #geto imagines #reader insert

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smileysuh · 1 year

Text

ice cold, cabin fever - part 2

🌙 staring. Seungcheol & Mingyu x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. "come on, let’s just go back to snakes and ladders and you can pretend we’re not snowed in with no firewood and a dude you hate locked in the bathroom."

cw/ tw. threesome, daddy issues, mean/tsundere cheol, wet dreams, spanking, marking, dirty talk, choking, unprotected sex, pain kink, dacryphilia, breast play, praise, degradation, fingering, oral, hand job, blow job, multiple orgasms, overstim, edging, orgasm denial, manhandling, size kink, cumplay, finger sucking, spit roasting, hair pulling, voyeurism, I petnames. (hers) princess, bitch, whore, baby (s.coups) cheol, douche, dick, daddy (mingyu) gyu.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 25.9k

🍭 aus. e2l, s2l, step brothers Jihan, non idol, ski resort, roomies, etc...

☀️ mlist + inspo. 🙂 🙂 🙂 I pls note. this fic was too long to put in one post, so read part 1 first here :)

16: Tuesday- morning

When Mingyu wakes up, he goes through the routine motions; first, he looks at you, admiring you’re pretty face for a few moments, and then, his eyes shift to Cheol.

When he finds Seungcheol fast asleep, Mingyu’s taken aback, and he decides to wait for his friend to wake up before going for breakfast.

An hour passes in the quiet of the cabin before Mingyu is texting his other friends to see if they’re doing anything.

Boredom does not agree with Kim Mingyu, and soon, he finds himself pulling on a jacket to go down the snowy path to join Jeonghan and Joshua at breakfast.

“Cheol’s really still sleeping?” Joshua asks in shock upon Mingyu’s arrival.

“What were you three up to last night that knocked out mister early riser?” Jeonghan presses while he gnaws on some bacon.

“We watched a movie-” Mingyu starts to explain, stealing a piece of toast from the many plates of food in front of his friends, “I went to sleep early, and I’m not sure when they eventually went to bed.”

The brothers exchange a glance that has Mingyu’s skin tingling with annoyance.

“Don’t do that!” he insists.

“Do what?” Jeonghan cocks his head to the side, but there’s a small grin on his face, and Mingyu gets the feeling he knows exactly what he’d just done.

“Exchange glances like that,” Mingyu groans. “Just say what you two are thinking, I hate having to guess.”

“I think Jeonghan and I were just… surprised that you’d go to bed and leave those two awake to do… whatever they got up to.”

“Whatever they got up to,” Mingyu echoes, rolling his eyes. “You guys make it sound like they were fucking while I was asleep.”

Jeonghan shrugs. “Maybe they were. How would you know? You were sleeping.”

“You know,” Mingyu puts his hands flat on the table, leaning back in his chair to stretch his arms out, “you guys are usually pretty smart, but this whole trip- I think you’ve both been seeing things that aren’t there.”

“Or maybe we’ve been seeing things you’re too caught up in our step-sister to notice,” Jeonghan suggests. “When you were dancing with her at the wedding, did you look at Cheol even once?”

“Why would I? I was dancing.” Mingyu hates where this is going.

“He was glaring at you,” Joshua says factually, “and even when I cut in, he was glaring at me too. Wouldn’t that make you wonder about his intentions?”

“No,” Mingyu decides to be stubborn, crossing his arms over his chest. “Maybe he was just jealous that y/n is getting all the attention, ever think of that? It’s not like we’ve all been eager to do slopes with him like we usually are when we’re at ski lodges.”

“You have a point,” Joshua concedes, “but even still, it doesn’t account for all his weird behaviours this trip.”

Before Mingyu can fight the issue further, something over his shoulder catches Jeonghan’s eye, and the tall maknae finds himself swiveling in his chair to see a disheveled-looking Cheol stomping into the restaurant.

“He definitely looks like he got laid last night,” Jeonghan whispers as their friend approaches the table.

“Good morning Seungcheol,” Joshua greets him with a smile, watching the man take the seat next to Mingyu before he pushes a mug forward, “have some coffee.”

“You look tired,” Jeonghan presses the issue almost immediately. “Long night?”

“Too long,” Seungcheol all but growls, taking the cup to down some coffee before his face crinkles in disgust. He looks to Joshua when he muses “you and you’re fucking black coffee,” then he’s tearing at a sugar packet and reaching for cream.

“Mingyu says he went to bed early last night- did you have fun staying up with our sweet step sister?”

Seungcheol assesses Jeonghan with a gloomy look, then he shakes his head. “I know what you’re insinuating,” he states, “but that’s not what happened.”

“Then what did happen?” Jeonghan rests his chin on his hand, cocking his head as he stares down his friend. “You’re usually quite happy in the mornings- excited about skiing-”

“Yeah, well, usually I can get a decent night’s sleep, without Mingyu’s sleeptalking bothering me too much,” Seungcheol sighs. “But last night, I had to deal with two people making noises.”

“Our step-sister’s a sleeptalker?” Jeonghan nearly laughs. “Who would have thought.”

“Not me.” Seungcheol takes a sip of his newly perfected coffee. “Although, I wouldn’t really call what she and Mingyu were doing last night sleep talking.”

“Oh my god,” Mingyu groans, slumping his elbows forward onto the table and resting his head in his hands.

He’d had a wet dream last night, one that he’s not prepared to discuss with his friends. Mingyu can still remember vivid flashes, images of you moaning beneath him, hands grabbing at his shoulders-

“No way,” Jeonghan laughs, already taking delight in what he’s hearing, “you’re telling us, that Mingyu and y/n were having sex dreams last night?”

“Yup.” Seungcheol downs the cup of coffee. “It sounded that way.”

“Was it just like… moaning?”

For someone usually more reserved, Joshua’s question is definitely not one Mingyu had expected, and he finds his jaw dropping while he stares at the two men seated across from him.

“Mostly moaning,” Seungcheol confirms, “but they both whimpered a few times too.”

“Oh my god-” Mingyu says again, his skin heating with embarrassment.

“Listen- if both Mingyu and y/n are feeling horny, you could come spend the night with us,” Jeonghan suggests in a somewhat sympathetic tone. “We’ve got a couch too.”

“I’m not sleeping on your fucking couch,” Seungcheol snaps back almost immediately, fist clenching on the table.

“Guys-” Mingyu groans, looking between Jeonghan and Joshua, “this is your new step-sister we’re talking about- aren’t either of you the least bit protective? I can’t believe what I’m hearing-”

“Sure, we’re protective,” Jeonghan leans back in his chair, “which is why we’re offering her up to you two. You think we’d let any hotel random get with her? We’re only open to this because we know neither of you are sociopaths.”

“On top of that,” Joshua sighs, “we’re all adults here. It’s not like we’re discussing you two taking her virginity or anything-”

“When did I get looped into this?” Seungcheol asks. “It sounds like you’re talking about a threesome now-”

“It wouldn’t be the first time you guys shared a girl together,” Jeonghan points out. “It’s been a while since then, but we all know you two can play nice.”

“This is my cue to leave this conversation,” Seungcheol says, standing and offering an obviously fake smile to the men surrounding him, “you guys better have a good day, because you’ve ruined the start of mine.”

17: Tuesday - afternoon

Seungcheol regrets doing a medium-level ski hill the moment he gets off the lift at the top. A flurry of thoughts and feelings nearly overwhelm the snowboarder as he assesses the situation in front of him.

You’re as easy for him to pick out now as one of his own friends, your familiar parka drawing his eyes.

He wonders if he’ll be able to bypass you- but the longer he watches you simply stand at the top of the slope, the more he realizes you probably need his help.

He’s aggravated that you’re here, trying a medium-level hill when you’re so obviously a beginner. Are you even good enough to say you’re adept at the easiest slope?

He thinks not.

Seungcheol hopes you’ll start down the hill, and when you do, you’ll be so distracted watching where you’re going that he’ll be able to ski right past you undetected-

A minute passes, then two, then three-

The near olympic level snowboarder is beginning to get cold just watching you, and with a sigh of defeat, he finally closes the distance.

Seungcheol stops at your side, a small “Hey,” leaving his lips.

His gaze is fixed ahead, but in his periphery, he sees you turn to look at him. “Oh… hey.”

“You’re doing a medium-level run.”

“Uh huh.”

Seungcheol can hear the frigid wind as it picks up small specks of snow and dances them around in a cyclone of motion. He’s always loved the quiet of skiing, but he’s beginning to resent the silence between you both.

“Did you-” he swallows, correcting his plan of attack for the conversation. “Do you think you’ll be okay?”

“I’m not so sure yet,” you confess.

“You know about, uh… pizza?” Seungcheol wants to slap himself the moment the words leave his lips. “Like, pointing your skis together in a triangle to slow down?”

“Yeah. I’m just sort of afraid it won’t help me actually stop.”

“What if we took it slow? Instead of going straight down, we could do a wide zigzag.”

“When did this become a we thing?” you laugh.

Seungcheol turns to look at you, and when your eyes meet, your smile falters a little. You’re quick to turn away, focusing on the hill again.

“Do you want me to leave you alone?” he finds himself asking.

You take a few seconds to consider it before answering. “No… I think a zigzag could be good.”

“Good.”

“I’m going to slow you down though.”

“That’s okay.” He swallows the lump in his throat. “I’ll uh- if you look like you’re going to fall or anything, I’ll be here, you can grab onto me.”

“Thanks.”

“You know,” Seungcheol begins to move slowly, watching for you to follow, “you really should be using poles.”

“You’re not using any.”

“That’s because I’m much better at this than you.”

You roll your eyes.

Seungcheol cuts the first zigzag, holding his gloved hand out to you in case you need assistance. “Why did you come on this trip? You’re obviously not someone who likes skiing.”

“Honestly?” You wobble a little, and then you grab onto his forearm, making a less-than-pretty turn. “When I was first invited, I wasn’t going to come.”

You pause, focusing on your skiing, and Seungcheol stays quiet, giving you space to continue.

“I think- when my dad told me he was going to remarry, and I hadn’t even met Seulki or Jeonghan or Joshua- I felt like, maybe he was being too fast? Like… my whole life, he’d never really uh… been there for me? So, I guess I was a little bitter that he’d found someone that he was so sure on, you know?”

Seungcheol nods sympathetically and the two of you glide slowly down the incline at an angle, your hand still latched to his arm.

“But after a while, I realized that, if I didn’t pull up my big girl panties and come on the trip, I’d miss out on being at the wedding, miss out on supporting him, and meeting the family he’s marrying into.”

“That makes sense.”

“Also…” your knees wobble a little at your next turn, and you grip him even tighter, “when I told him I wasn’t coming to the wedding initially, he said it would be okay, and that he could give the cabin up to family friends, and I guess that hurt me a little, which is why it took longer for me to agree to this.”

“You and your dad aren’t that close, huh?” Seungcheol muses.

He’d been noticing this, from the moment you’d shown up at his cabin alone he’d been wondering about your relationship with your father.

Things are making more sense now, and he can see why you’d been so bitchy the first day when you’d arrived.

He doesn’t know what it’s really like, to be in your shoes, but he can imagine that making the trek to the cabins with your suitcase, alone, hadn’t been the greatest start to a vacation.

“We’re not.” You confirm his suspicions, and Seungcheol’s heart melts ever so slightly at the way you’re really opening up to him.

“I’m not too close with mine either,” he admits.

“You’re not?”

“No,” Seungcheol watches your skis when you take the next turn, and bites his tongue on another tip he’s itching to give you. “Growing up, my dad was always so fixated on me turning out to be a great man, that he kind of um… didn’t allow me to have the childhood I think I would have preferred.”

“I can imagine… being a near olympic level snowboarder- that sounds like a lot of pressure.”

“It was.” Seungcheol hates the way his voice still cracks when he talks about this sort of thing.

“I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault.” The lump in his throat is back.

“Still…” you insist, releasing his arm and changing the topic, “You know, I think I’m getting the hang of this.”

“You are,” he admits, “doing really well, I mean.”

“If you wanted to ditch me, you totally could.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. you’d probably be at the bottom of the hill already if you weren’t here with me-” you point out. “I appreciate the effort you’re putting in, but uh… you’re not one of my step-brothers, so you’ll probably never have to see me again, and I think we’d both prefer to ski without diving too deep into our daddy issues.”

He’s very taken aback by your quick change of attitude, and the part of his heart that had melted is quick to freeze up again.

“You’re right,” he says quickly. “But if you go too fast and end up breaking your leg, don’t come crying to me about it.”

“And you said I’m the person who needs the last word,” you scoff.

He lets you have this one, and continues down the hill without you, mouth set in a firm line.

18: Tuesday - evening

If last night had been the first night you were able to relax, then tonight is the first night you’ve had much peace, despite the storm raging outside. And it’s all because mister grumpy is passed out cold in his bed while you and Mingyu quietly play board games you found on a shelf in the cabin.

Mingyu had explained that Cheol hadn’t slept well the night before, and you’re more than happy to enjoy the cabin without a brooding man setting you off every five minutes.

But sleep only lasts so long, and suddenly, in the middle of a game of snakes and ladders, Seungcheol all but shoots upright in his bed.

“What time is it?!” he asks, practically leaping off his mattress to run to the window-

“It’s like nine?”

“Why didn’t you guys wake me up for dinner?!”

“We didn’t go out,” Mingyu explains, “we heated some water up on the countertop burner and had ramen-”

“Fuck-” Seungcheol groans, running both hands through his hair. “It’s really snowing out there-”

“Some dude in the hotel this afternoon said it’s going to snow like- a few feet or something,” Mingyu nods. “We thought you’d be glad we let you sleep since we’re not going anywhere.”

The elder man releases a groan again. “You were supposed to wake me up, so I could run to the hotel and grab more firewood before the storm got worse!”

You all look to the cast iron fireplace, where you notice, for the first time, that you’re down to the last two logs.

“You didn’t tell us we had to wake you up,” Mingyu says defensively.

“That’s because when I fell asleep, neither of you were here.”

“Well,” you cross your arms over your chest, “you could have left us a note.”

Seungcheol releases a deep sigh. “You know what? Yeah, I could have left you a note. I also really didn’t think I’d sleep this long. Fuck.”

“At least we know that Jeonghan and Joshua did the same thing yesterday,” you point out, “and they didn’t die.”

“Yeah, they did the same thing, and I made fun of them for forgetting to grab wood- I warned them about the storm, told them to grab more, and now I did the same thing.”

You sort of feel like laughing. “So it sounds like you’re really just mad at yourself, and not at us.”

“Sounds that way,” Seungcheol groans.

“How did you forget to get firewood though? First, you had an afternoon nap, which is very unlike you, then the thing with the wood- are you sure you’re feeling okay?” Mingyu stands up, easily closing the distance between himself and his friend. He reaches out to touch Seungcheol’s forehead. “You’re not sick or anything, right?”

“Of course I’m not sick,” Seungcheol slaps Mingyu’s hand away in favour of pointing his own finger in his friend’s face. “I’m tired and distracted, because you two kept me up all night!”

“What?” Your heart lurches, and your mouth becomes dry.

They both turn to look at you, and Seungcheol’s hand drops to his side.

“It’s nothing-” Seungcheol’s ears have turned red.

“It’s obviously not nothing,” you stand up, board game completely forgotten. “What do you mean we kept you up all night?”

“You’re both sleep talkers, that’s all,” he tries to brush it off, but you immediately know exactly what he’s talking about, because last night’s dream is still etched in your mindseye like a fucking pornographic movie.

Your jaw drops.

“What-” you bite at your lip, “what was he saying?” you motion to Mingyu.

“Are you sure it’s him that you’re wondering about?” Seungcheol’s quick retort makes a tingle run through your body.

The tension in this cabin has never been so thick before, and Mingyu falters slightly. “Come on dude, don’t play like that-”

“Like what?” Seungcheol crosses his arms over his chest, and you hate that his tshirt accentuates how large his biceps are. “Here, I’ll make it easy on all of us. Mingyu was whimpering your name,” he nods to you, “and you seemed to be more conflicted on who you were fucking in your dream.”

You already know that. You can distinctly remember the way your dream self had been sandwiched between both of your new cabin mates, and you can remember not being able to focus on one or the other.

You can’t believe your subconscious had betrayed you as hard as it had- can’t believe you’d been moaning both Mingyu and Seungcheol’s names in your sleep last night-

“Who…” Mingyu rubs the back of his neck awkwardly, “who was she conflicted about?”

Seungcheol grins, and for a moment, he looks very much like Jeonghan, a puppet master controlling all the strings. “Guess.”

Mingyu’s gaze shifts to you, and his lips part as if he’s going to say something-

“You know what? I’m going to go outside and get us some firewood,” you declare, grabbing your parka off the back of the couch.

“No you’re not.” Seungcheol’s in front of the door, and you can tell by the stubborn set of his mouth that he’s not intent on letting you escape this.

“Let me leave- you can’t stop me,” you insist, trying to push him out of your way-

You have the same success you’d have with a brick wall, and Seungcheol looks down at you with amusement.

“Y/n,” Mingyu gently grabs your forearm, “it’s a blizzard out there, you really shouldn’t-”

“You’d never make it to the hotel,” Seungcheol tells you, which only adds fuel to your rage.

“Well maybe I’ll just go one cabin over and bunk with my step-brothers tonight, did you ever consider that, mister ‘I forgot the firewood’?”

Seungcheol narrows his eyes at you, and then he steps to the side.

“Cheol-” Mingyu all but gasps, holding onto your arm tighter, “we can’t-”

With your free hand, you go to throw the door open- only to be met with resistance on the other side.

“What the fuck-” you push the door harder, and it barely budges.

“It’s snow,” Seungcheol tells you, moving to sit on the couch. “Small cabins like this, doors open outwards.”

“So we’re literally snowed in?!” you can’t believe your luck. “This has to be against regulation-”

“Hotel staff come by every morning to clear the trail to the cabins and deal with doors,” Seungcheol sighs, “which you would know if you ever bothered to wake up before noon.”

“This can’t be happening-”

“You’re in the safest place you can be right now, trust me.”

“Of course I don’t fucking trust you!” you find yourself yelling, tearing your arm away from Mingyu so you can begin to pace. “I feel like a fucking caged animal-”

“Well, fuck me with all the swearing,” Seungcheol releases a chuckle that has your blood boiling, “are you claustrophobic or something?”

“And what if I am? You going to plow this door down for me if I say I can’t handle small spaces?” Your heart rate is increasing by the moment. “Fuck- and we don’t even have firewood-”

“It’s gonna be a long night for you, princess.”

“Cheol-” Mingyu’s closed the door, and he’s leaning back against it, watching you with a frown, “don’t make this worse than it already is-”

“Or what? You two gonna lock me in the bathroom to shut me up?”

“That’s a really good idea,” you look to Mingyu, knowing it will take two of you to manage the coup Seungcheol is suggesting. “We should really consider locking him in the bathroom-”

“And I bet you’d fucking love that wouldn’t you,” Seungcheol growls. “It would finally give you the privacy to fuck the guy you’ve been buddying up to for days- you know what? Fine, I’ll lock myself in the bathroom.”

“Fine!” you scream.

“Fine!” he yells back, getting off the couch and stomping to the small bathroom.

The door slams behind him, and for the first time since this whole dilemma began, you’re able to take an actual breath.

“You two are something else,” Mingyu whispers.

“Gyu,” you turn to the only true friend you’ve made this whole trip, “help me with the door, I swear to god I’m going to sleep with Jeonghan and Joshua tonight-”

Mingyu shakes his head, leaning back against the door. “Remember how a few nights ago Cheol said the storm would wind sweep you away? Well, tonight’s even worse- I hate to agree with him, but I can’t let you leave.”

“You mean won’t.”

“I think I sort of mean can’t,” Mingyu sighs. “Seriously, I doubt this door would budge much even if we both pushed it.”

“So you’re not going to help me.”

“What if I am helping you, though?” he cocks his head. “I mean, you look like you’ve calmed down a little already- come on, let’s just go back to snakes and ladders and you can pretend we’re not snowed in with no firewood and a dude you hate locked in the bathroom.”

“Mingyu I swear to god-” you want to fight him on this, but when he reaches out a hand to you, you find yourself allowing him to pull you into an embrace.

You’ve not hugged someone in a long time, and this is exactly what you need.

Mingyu’s so big- and you press your cheek against his wonderful chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart while he tucks his chin over your head, all but locking you into the warmth of his body.

He releases a deep breath, and you mirror the motion, feeling your muscles begin to lose tension.

“You guys better not be actually fucking.”

Of course Seungcheol ruins the moment, words carrying through the shut bathroom door, causing your heart to pick up speed yet again-

You turn, pulling away from Mingyu and opening your mouth to shoot back a response- but the large man draws you back, one hand smoothing against your hair.

“Shh-” he breathes. “Ignore him.”

“It’s hard ignoring that asshole,” you admit quietly, taking a deep breath and inhaling the scent of Mingyu’s cologne. “You smell nice.”

“Thanks,” he continues petting you, “you do too.”

For a few moments, you allow yourself to simply relax in his arms, and it does help you forget that you’re snowed in.

“So uh…” Mingyu swallows thickly, “about the dream you were having last night-”

“Oh my god-” you bury your face against his chest, hoping to disappear.

“Cheol never specified - and we don’t have to talk about this if you don’t want to - but, was I one of the people you were thinking about? In your dream last night?”

You can’t help but laugh slightly, adoring how this kind, sexy, beefed man can still be so humble and cute at the same time-

“Of course you’re one of the people in the dream-” you admit.

“Okay… good.”

“And you were dreaming of me too? Cheol wasn’t just making that up?”

“No, he wasn’t making it up.”

“It’s funny,” you say after a moment, “for a guy who acts like he sort of hates me, Cheol did a pretty good job setting this whole interaction up… almost makes me wonder if he forgot the firewood on purpose.”

“Oh, you’d just fucking love that wouldn’t you?”

“Cheol,” you find yourself getting angry again, “I swear to god that if you keep listening in and yelling at us, I’m going to talk in whispers and maybe even push something in front of your door so you’re actually bolted into the bathroom-”

“Joke’s on you, princess, this door opens inward so even if you blocked it, I could still get out.”

“I hate you!”

“I hate you more!”

“Jesus christ.” Mingyu begins petting you again, and when he opens his mouth to speak, he addresses his friend; “Dude, you can’t stay in there all night- it’s already beginning to get a little cold in here-”

“I can stay in here if I want to.”

“Yeah,” you say quietly, “he can stay in there if he wants to.”

Mingyu sighs. “I really can’t understand why you two hate each other so much,” you open your mouth to begin your long list of plights but Mingyu shakes his head, “and I really don’t want to know- it will only get you heated again.”

“Isn’t heat what we’re looking for?” you point out.

“Not that kind of heat.”

There’s a pause, and you enjoy the warmth of his body again. “Do you really want to continue playing snakes and ladders?”

“No, do you?”

“No,” you shake your head slightly.

“Should we…” his voice lowers to a whisper, “should we move to your bed? Just to get under the covers for warmth-”

You nod, pulling away from the giant human heater and crossing the small space to your bed. You’d been happy to find the cabin equipped with doubles instead of singles, but never more happy than now.

You’re quick to burrow under the blanket, and Mingyu tentatively joins you. “So… are we thinking spooning, or-”

“Spooning works.” You roll onto your side, turning your back to the man who immediately curls against you, tugging you to his chest in a protective way that has your skin tingling with interest.

You can feel Mingyu’s breath against the nape of your neck, and you’re struck by how good it all feels-

The door to the bathroom slowly creaks open, and Cheol appears, sitting on the floor and staring directly at you both.

“Oh my god,” you groan, lifting the blanket to hide yourself.

“The funny thing is,” Mingyu sighs behind you, “I thought you two were just starting to get along.”

“What gave you that idea?” Seungcheol retorts.

“Didn’t you have a whole deep conversation about daddy issues today?”

Your body freezes, and there’s a long pause before Seungcheol asks, “How did you hear about that? Did she tell you?”

“No-” another breath that fans across your neck, “Jeonghan was skiing right behind you guys this afternoon- said you were way too wrapped up in each other to even notice your surroundings.”

“I wouldn’t say we were wrapped up in each other,” comes a gruff response.

“Hannie said she was clinging to your arm and everything.”

You hate that Mingyu is right. You had felt as if you were getting somewhere with the brooding man your step-brothers call their best friend. If he hadn’t woken up from his nap being all accusatory- if you hadn’t felt immediately claustrophobic and put on the spot at the mention of sleep talking and wet dreams… maybe your evening would have gone much smoother.

“And- maybe I was imagining it, but… didn’t you two say goodnight to each other last night?” Mingyu presses. “I was half asleep, but I’m pretty sure you two were actually being sort of nice before bed?”

For a guy who plays the part of being a happy himbo, Mingyu is much more observant than you’d realized.

“You know what I think?” he continues. “I think you’re both just sort of stubborn, but when you clash, the stubbornness is magnified- kind of like- two immovable walls getting in each other’s faces.”

“That metaphor doesn’t make any sense,” Seungcheol insists.

“Sounds like something a stubborn brick wall would say.”

“Brick walls can’t talk.”

“And you two can’t seem to have a simple conversation either, so is it really that bad of a metaphor, or are you just in denial?” Mingyu’s definitely hit a nerve, and the silence in the cabin moves to a heavy stagnancy. “I’m not the only one who’s noticed, Joshua said the same thing at breakfast yesterday.”

“He did?” You find yourself perking up at the idea that something along the lines of this conversation may have happened before. You peek out from your hiding place under the blanket, eager for your voice to be heard clearly when you ask, “You guys were talking about me at breakfast?”

“We’ve been talking about you a lot,” Mingyu admits, which causes your skin to heat with embarrassment, and you burrow back under the covers.

“Don’t feed her ego.”

“You’re just jealous because no one’s been feeding you since you got here,” you snap, pulling down the blanket to glare at Cheol. “I bet you get all the girls back where you’re from- I bet it’s so easy for you-”

“It is.”

“So now who’s ego is really being hurt by all of this?” He doesn’t respond. “First you say I’m the drama queen, when it’s really you, then you say I’m the one who needs the last word, when it’s really you, and now I’m the one who shouldn’t get my ego stroked when you’re really just jealous that I’m here cuddling with Mingyu and you’re still sitting on the bathroom floor like a stubborn douche-”

“Call me a stubborn douche again.”

“Guys-”

“You’re a stubborn douche- what are you going to do about it?” you narrow your eyes at the man who has your whole body practically on fire every time you talk.

“Bet you wish I would spank you.”

Your breath catches, and you find yourself in a staring match with the man on the floor. You can’t think of anything to say-

“I knew when you were moaning ‘harder’ in your sleep last night it wasn’t just about fucking-” Seungcheol laughs at you. “I’m sure your subconscious mind knows that if you ever let Mingyu and I take a go at you, you’d be ruined.”

“Cheol-” Mingyu’s voice is as stern as you’ve ever heard it, and his breath against your throat has your entire body coming alive with sensitivity.

“You know,” you clear your throat, “If you’re jealous about not being invited to cuddle, you could just say so, instead of being such a dick.”

“Who says I want to come cuddle?”

He’s always so quick with his douchey comebacks.

“You’re literally shivering, stop being stupid.” You can see him fidgeting with the sleeves of his hoodie, pulling it down over his fingers.

“I’m not interested in cuddling with you,” Seungcheol insists.

“We’ll let you be the small spoon,” you tease.

He groans. “That’s even worse”

“You two are giving me whiplash,” Mingyu sighs behind you, pulling you closer to his warm chest and releasing a deep sigh.

“Actually-” you wiggle in the large mans grasp, turning onto your back and then facing him, “thanks to Seungcheol, it’s pretty clear we both had dreams about each other last night… if he wants to be stubborn, we could always just…” you shift so your lips are by his ear, “fuck under the covers.”

“Oh my god-” Mingyu’s breathing is shaky now.

“You two are not gonna fuck without me.”

“See! I knew you were jealous-” you begin to turn around again, eager to look at Cheol when you rub your triumph in his face- but you’re stopped by the covers lifting and a body slotting against your back.

“Stop being a bitch,” Seungcheol growls in your ear, one hand finding your hip and roughly tugging you back to him.

“Stop being such a douche!”

“How about you both stop?” Mingyu suggests, gently cupping your face and meeting your eyes.

He’s so pretty- you’ve thought so since the moment you saw him, and now that you’re sandwiched between both of your cabin roommates, your self-control is getting weaker and weaker.

Another beat of silence goes by, then Mingyu asks, “Are we really going to do this?”

“I definitely think we’re really going to do this,” you confirm, “What do you say, Douche?”

The man behind you digs his fingers into your hips, “you know,” his breath is hot against your skin, and his lips tease the shell of your ear, “that’s the fourth time you’ve called me a douche. I think you should make it five.”

You know where he’s going with this immediately, and your pussy tingles with excitement. “Are you really going to spank me, Cheol?”

“I think at this point I have to,” the hand on your hip moves to your throat, and he squeezes you gently, “unless you’re really against it.”

“Fuck-” Mingyu shifts in front of you, moving closer, and his hand falls from your face to your hip, taking the spot Cheol had just let go of.

“You better follow through, douche,” you hum, “dream Cheol was very light-handed.”

“And that’s five,” he breathes.

“Don’t disappoint me,” you tell him.

“Trust me,” he squeezes your throat, “I won’t.”

“One of you better kiss me to get things started-” you warn them, “I’m pretty sure my panties are already ruined-”

This prompts both men to act - as you knew it would - with Mingyu immediately pressing his lips to yours while Seungcheol releases your neck to shove his hand down your sweatpants and investigate your claim.

Your body reacts on instinct, leg lifting to rest on Mingyu’s hip, tugging him closer and opening you up for Cheol while you grab at Mingyu’s face, kissing him with the intensity of a woman who’s been locked in a cabin with two gorgeous men for days.

“Fuck-” Seungcheol groans behind you, his fingers rubbing at your pussy through your underwear, “you’re fucking soaked-” his nose drags by the nape of your neck, “what a dirty little whore-”

You mewl against Mingyu’s lips, a conflicted feeling erupting through you at the way Seungcheol is speaking to you.

“Oh? You don’t like that?” he laughs. “So you get to call me a douche but if I point out that you’re a needy slut grinding down on my hand while my best friend shoves his tongue down your throat then that’s what? Too much for you?”

“Be nice,” Mingyu mutters, kisses turning much softer.

“Then what should I call her?”

“Princess,” the word sounds so pretty coming from Mingyu, “like you did earlier, but not sarcastically.”

“Is that what you are?” Seungcheol’s fingers are rubbing your clit through your panties, and it feels amazing- “our stubborn little princess?”

“God, yes!” your hands grab at Mingyu’s strong shoulders, and you try to pull him back to your lips- “Please-”

“I think that’s the first time I’ve ever heard you say that word,” Seungcheol muses, giving you what you want and applying more pressure to your pussy. “I like the way it sounds coming from you.”

“Please-” you whimper again. You’re not even sure what you’re asking for, but you figure that, between the both of them, they’ll come up with something.

“Take your hoodie off,” Seungcheol commands, pulling his hand out of your pants. “In fact, let’s all take our hoodies off.”

You love how he’s taking the lead, and you suppose it’s not a shock in the slightest. Mingyu has been giving you people-pleasing vibes since you arrived, and it makes sense Seungcheol naturally steps into the leader position.

He can be a bit of a stubborn dick, but fuck, he’s a natural when it comes to telling you what to do.

All three of you are quick to wiggle out of your heavy clothes, stripping your top halves until you’re the only one left in anything, your bra-

“This too,” Seungcheol says, pulling at a strap and making it snap back against your skin.

“You’re behind me, why don’t you take it off,” you tell him, already reaching for Mingyu, wanting to be lost in his lips.

“Fucking princess,” the man behind you mutters, fingers immediately finding the clasp.

“Needy douche,” you mumble against Mingyu’s mouth.

Seungcheol’s response is quick, his hand momentarily discarding his task to wrap around your throat again, “Make it ten, I dare you.”

“You guys-” Mingyu groans, grabbing your hips and trying to tug you closer to his chest.

Seungcheol holds you tight, not allowing you to budge an inch.

“Douche, douche, douche,” you pull Seungcheol’s hand from your neck, turning to face him so you can look into his eyes when you say the last “douche. There, that’s ten.”

He’s looking at you with an amused expression, and for the first time since meeting him, you see him truly smile.

“You’re gonna get it,” he warns you, grinning.

“I better.” You tangle your hands in his pretty, dark, curls, smashing your lips to his to wipe the smirk from his face.

Seungcheol and Mingyu are like night and day. Mingyu had kisses you gently whereas Seungcheol holds nothing back.

His tongue easily dominates your own, his hands grabbing at your hips, thigh pressing up between yours-

Mingyu’s lips find your bare shoulders, his fingers picking up where Seungcheol’s had left off with your bra, and before you even know it, the two are working together to tear it off your body, leaving your torso exposed.

Seungcheol doesn’t even look down, his lips find yours again, and it’s Mingyu’s hands that go to cup your breasts. He ruts against your ass, and you can feel his cock straining against his sweatpants, his mouth hot on your neck while he massages your chest with large hands.

When his fingers brush by your nipples you moan loudly, digging your nails into Seungcheol’s strong shoulders-

You really just wish one of them would tear your pants off. You’ve had enough with this foreplay, enough with the waiting-

So you find a way to speed things up, shoving your hand between your bodies to cup Seungcheol’s cock through his pants, moaning even louder when you feel how big he is.

You’re about to get absolutely wrecked and you know it.

“Fuck, princess-” Seungcheol gasps against your mouth.

“I want you to fuck me,” you tell him.

“Me or him?” Mingyu asks behind you.

“I don’t care-” you whimper when Mingyu pinches your nipple between his fingers, “take turns- I don’t-”

“Go for it, Gyu,” Cheol says, hand finding your throat again, thumb pressing against the underside of your jaw, “I’m not done kissing her yet.”

You think this must be the most turned-on you’ve ever been in your whole entire life.

The man behind you pulls away from your breasts, his fingers hooking in your sweatpants. “Can I pull these down?” he asks, lips pressing hot kisses against your shoulder.

Seungcheol allows you to break your kiss just long enough to whimper a sound of affirmation before he’s claiming your mouth again.

As Mingyu pulls your pants down, you go to slip your own hand under the waistband of Cheol’s- but he stops you, grasping your wrist in a tight grip. “Over the pants for now, don’t touch what’s not yours,” he warns, releasing you in favour of grabbing your face, “and no pouting.”

Cheol reads you like a book, wiping the pout off your face by pulling you into another breathtaking kiss.

Behind you, Mingyu’s gotten your sweatpants and panties down to your knees. You help him by kicking them the rest of the way off, and when you’re fully naked, Mingyu’s hand finds your pussy.

“Fuck, you are soaked-” he moans against the nape of your neck, two fingers rubbing at your clit before slipping inside of you.

It feels like heaven- and you adjust to give Mingyu more room, hooking your leg over Seungcheol’s hip to open yourself up-

Seungcheol’s hand moves from your throat to your breast, and he pinches your nipple roughly between his thumb and pointer. When you gasp from the motion, his mouth moves to your jaw and then to your collarbone.

“Should we mark you?” his breath is hot against your skin. “Make it so everyone knows you’ve been fucked? What would your step-brothers say? What would your daddy say?”

“I don’t know- what are you going to say, daddy?”

Seungcheol releases a low groan. “I think I’m gonna make you wear turtlenecks the rest of this trip.”

He doesn’t bother waiting for a response from you, his lips latch onto a spot just above your jugular, teeth grazing your skin.

Mingyu’s fingers have found a steady pace inside of you now, and you find yourself moaning like a whore, grinding down against his hand to get more pressure from his palm on your clit.

“You sound so pretty-” Mingyu’s breath fans over your shoulder and your whole body feels on fire.

“Sounds like she hasn’t been touched in a while,” Seungcheol says, pulling away from your neck to look you in the eyes. “Our sensitive little princess.”

“Cheol-” you whimper.

“I thought I was daddy,” he grabs your throat, thumb testing the spot he’d just marked up.

“Daddy-” you gasp as he tightens his grip.

“It almost sounds like you’re going to cum, just from Gyu’s fingers,” Seungcheol leans in, lips just out of reach, “but we both know you wouldn’t do that without asking for permission first.”

“Please-”

“Please what?”

“Please- I’m so close-”

“Fuck-” Mingyu groans behind you, finger fucking you even harder.

“If you like the feeling of this, you’re gonna cry when you get something bigger.” Cheol is way too amused by this, and it only adds to your pleasure, your toes curling as the tension in your stomach builds and builds-

“Please-” you whimper again, grasping onto his shoulders to anchor yourself out of desperation.

“Want you to cum,” Mingyu says gruffly, lips teasing by your shoulder. “Want you to cum on my fingers-”

Seungcheol still hasn’t given you permission, and you find yourself teetering on the edge- “Daddy, please!”

He leans forward, lips ghosting over your own when he finally says “I guess you can cum.”

You take a shuddery breath as the chord in your stomach snaps, orgasm rushing through your body. Your eyes shut, and you find yourself leaning forward, burrowing against Seungcheol’s sturdy chest while whitehot pleasure surges through every fiber of your being.

You’ve never had an orgasm that makes you lose it like this, your mind going completely blank as Mingyu’s fingers work you through your high.

You’re a whimpering, shuddering mess when he finally removes his hand, and a moment later the word “condoms?” brings you back to reality.

You shake your head, too tired to speak yet.

“Is princess on the pill?” Seungcheol asks. You nod this time, and the man you’re holding onto like a lifeline confirms with his friend, “She’s on the pill.”

“Thank god,” Mingyu groans behind you. There’s a small shuffle of him kicking off his pants, and then his hands are grabbing your hips, pulling you backwards-

You instinctually arch your back, giving him a better angle to press his cockhead to your entrance-

“You sure about this?” Mingyu asks, pausing.

Another nod, and Seungcheol laughs. “She’s sure.”

Mingyu pushes into you as soon as the words are out of his friend’s mouth, and you grip Seungcheol even tighter, gasping at the feeling of being filled so completely.

You’re well prepped from his fingers, and when Mingyu takes a test thrust, you can feel your own fluids coating him, making it as easy as ever for him to slide in and out of your wet core.

“Holy shit-” Mingyu’s breath is hot against your shoulders and it makes you shiver with stimulation as he increases the pace of his thrusts, “you feel so good-”

“I bet she does,” Seungcheol’s hand slips between your bodies, fingers finding your clit-

You whimper at the feeling, pulling away from his chest to look him in the eyes, “Too sensitive-”

“Too sensitive?” To his credit, he lets up a little, but his hand stays where it is. “Are you sure about that?”

You shake your head, licking your lips and looking at his own-

“Does princess want a kiss?” he asks, reading you as easily as ever.

You lace your hands around the back of his neck, pulling him to your lips. Seungcheol muffles the moans that are slipping out of you, but as Mingyu’s thrusts get rougher, there’s only so much he can do to help you censor the sounds of pleasure.

Behind you, Mingyu’s also releasing his own noises, gasps and grunts that add fuel to the growing feeling between your legs.

It feels so good- and this is just Mingyu.

In the periphery of your mind, you know you still have to receive your ten spanks from Cheol before he fucks you, and you think maybe it was a mistake to get yourself into this. After all- will you ever be able to fuck anyone else? Will anything after this ever feel the same?

“Fuck-” Mingyu groans when Seungcheol applies pressure to your clit, “baby, if you keep squeezing like that-” he lets out another gasp, “you’re gonna make me cum-”

“Really?” Seungcheol breaks your kiss to look at the man over your shoulder. “Already?”

“She feels so good-” Mingyu insists, “so good for us-”

“She is,” Seungcheol agrees, rubbing your clit even harder, making both you and Mingyu moan with pleasure. “It’s funny how compliant our stubborn princess gets once she’s being properly fucked.”

“Please-” you groan, reaching behind you to thread your fingers through Mingyu’s hair.

The man in front of you grins. “I’m really starting to enjoy listening to you beg.”

Before you can say anything else, Mingyu lets go of your hip to grab your jaw, prompting you to turn your head to the side so he can lean over your shoulder and press his lips to your own.

He’s not kissing like he had when this whole thing started. Now, he’s eager, tongue swiping past your own while he whimpers and gasps, rutting into you wildly.

This time, you don’t have to beg Seungcheol for permission. Although his fingers are still working your clit, this isn’t his orgasm to give, it’s Mingyu’s, and the man behind you doesn’t care for power plays or waiting games.

You can hear Mingyu getting closer and closer, his sounds getting pitchier-

“You two are too cute,” Seungcheol’s words feel distant, but then his lips are attaching to your nipple and you think you might cum then and there-

“Fuck-” Mingyu tears his lips from your own, grasping your hips- “I’m gonna-” he presses his forehead against your shoulder while you grab onto Seungcheol, threading your fingers through his curls while his teeth drag by your nipple- “cum with me, fuck, cum with me-”

You don’t really need to be told twice, and even without the command, you would have ascended to cloud nine anyways, body tingling with electric pleasure.

With no one attending to your mouth, you’re left to moan and whimper loudly, filling the cabin with sinful sounds as Mingyu fucks you through your high.

Seungcheol doesn’t let up on your clit or your breasts, not until his friend is slowing down and you’re pushing at him, only then does he relent.

“You going to collapse against my shoulder again?” he asks, cupping your face to get a better look at you.

You’re still catching your breath, and you nod against his hand, leaning forward-

Seungcheol pulls you closer, tucking you in against his chest, moving to pet your hair.

“Was that good for both of you?” he asks, and you can’t believe that it sounds like a genuine, heartfelt question.

“Really good,” Mingyu responds, pressing a gentle kiss to your shoulder.

“So good-” you echo, bringing up a hand to begin drawing lazy nothings on Seungcheol’s wonderful chest-

“I’ll give you a moment to recover,” he says in a manner that’s almost gentle, “because when you’re ready- I still expect my ten smacks.”

And what if you died from being this horny? What then?

You whimper when Mingyu pulls out of you, giving you one last sweet kiss on your shoulder before he flops onto his back to catch his breath.

“Daddy-”

“Ready for me now?”

You nod, lips brushing by his collarbone gently as you work your way up to his neck. Seungcheol allows you to pepper his skin in little kisses, and when you get to his jaw, he pulls away.

“I want you on all fours,” he tells you.

The cabin is cold, and you’re hot from being fucked and sandwiched between two warm bodies, so when the blanket is lifted off of you, the air feels more intense.

You whine in annoyance, but do as you’re told, propping yourself up on your hands and knees.

Seungcheol moves behind you, and you can feel his form towering over your own when his hands smooth over your ass.

“Look at you,” he breathes, “you’re an absolute mess.”

You can feel Mingyu’s cum beginning to dribble out of you, so you fall to your elbows and reach a hand through your legs, pushing two fingers into your pussy to stop anything from dripping out.

“Fuck,” Seungcheol grips your ass cheeks so hard it almost hurts, “you ready for your punishment now?”

“Yes, daddy,” you sigh, closing your eyes in anticipation.

“Count them all, and for the first five, keep your fingers where they are. For the final five, you’ll be able to suck on them as a reward. Does that sound fair?”

“Very fair.”

“Good.” There’s a moment of silence, Seungcheol removes one hand from your bum, and then it’s coming back full force.

The impact makes you jolt, skin stinging with heat and electric tingles of pained pleasure.

Your toes curl, and you whimper “One.”

“Was that hard enough for you?” he taunts.

“Yes, daddy.”

The next hit comes down on the opposite cheek, with around the same force, and you’re thankful that he’s not just battering one side, it gives you a bit of time to recuperate.

“Two,” your pussy tightens around your fingers and with your free hand you grab the sheets, twisting them into something like an anchor.

You’re not surprised when he switches sides again, but the second hit to your right side hurts more than the first and you gasp at the feeling. “Fuck- three!”

“Any time you sit after this, you’re going to be reminded of us,” Seungcheol muses, hand coming down on your left ass cheek.

“Four-” you whimper, “oh my god-”

“You two are so weird,” Mingyu sighs, shifting closer to you and rolling onto his side. He gently brushes your hair out of your face. “Are you sure you guys want to get to ten?”

“Why wouldn’t we?” Seungcheol massages your ass, rubbing at the stinging skin.

“She’s almost crying.” The man looking into your eyes is frowning now, concern evident in his expression.

“She’s loving this, isn’t that right, princess?” Seungcheol insists.

“Yes, daddy-” you squeak when his hand comes down on you mid confirmation, and your eyes clench shut, holding back tears of pained pleasure. “Five!”

“You can suck on your fingers now,” Seungcheol tells you, “but I still wanna hear that voice of yours counting each strike.”

You pull your digits from your core, adjusting slightly to allow you to shove them into your mouth.

A moan escapes you immediately, the taste of Mingyu’s cum flooding your senses.

“Fuck-” Mingyu groans.

“Hot right?” Seungcheol massages your bum gently. “Who’s our perfect little whore?”

“I am,” you whimper, making sure to lick as much as you can off of your fingers.

The next smack you receive is a little gentler than the past five, and your body hums with warmth at the idea that Seungcheol’s going easy on you. “Six.” The word is garbled, but you know that none of you care.

“That’s it, love that you’re dripping from this,” Seungcheol praises you, hand coming down again.

“Seven-” you drag your fingers past your teeth, toying with your bottom lip.

“Are they clean already princess?” Seungcheol asks.

“Yes, daddy- fuck, eight!”

“Just a few more.” There’s something so steady about his voice- about his presence looming behind you, and you know that as soon as this is over, he’s going to fuck you properly, like you deserve.

“Nine!” makes you tear up, your free hand fully clenched in the sheets, and Mingyu quickly responds by reaching out to brush his thumb by your cheek.

“With this last one,” Seungcheol’s massaging your ass again, and it hurts in the best way possible, “I want you to say sorry.”

“For what?” you whine, so delirious from your treatment that you can’t even think straight.

“For calling me a douche, ten times.”

“I’m sorry-”

“I haven’t even spanked you yet,” the man behind you laughs, “but I appreciate your apology.”

The last hit is the worst of all of them, but maybe that’s just because you’re already extremely sensitive from what you’ve already received, despite this, you still fulfill your job as Cheol’s perfect little cock whore, diligently blurting out “Ten! I’m sorry, Cheol!”

“There’s my good girl.” He sounds satisfied, and you’re extremely glad he doesn’t reprimand you for using his name, in fact, a moment later, he’s rewarding you with his cock at your entrance. “You ready for me?”

“God, yes! Please-”

He sheaths himself into you and you bury your face against the duvet to muffle your scream.

It feels like nothing you’ve ever felt.

The combination of his cock stretching you open, and his hips hitting your sore ass- it’s doing something to you that no one has ever done before.

Large, warm hands grab your hips, and the first few thrusts have you squeaking each time he makes contact with your bum, toes curling at the sensation. “If you need me to stop,” his fingers dig into your skin, “just say so.”

“Please-” you gasp, “don’t stop-”

In response, Seungcheol fucks you even harder, quickly finding a pace that has your mind going blank.

There’s only you and Seungcheol. Mingyu is practically forgotten and you don’t even feel bad about it. After taking ten hits to your ass, you deserve this.

You deserve to have your brains fucked out.

“Hey,” a hand grabs at your hair, and Seungcheol pulls your face out of the duvet, “stop using the blanket to muffle your sounds, I wanna hear them.”

“Cheol-” you whimper loudly, feeling an orgasm already bubbling in the pit of your stomach.

“Sounds like you’re close,” the man behind you muses, tightening his grip in your hair and pulling until you’re up in full doggy, hands braced against the bed. “You close, princess?”

“God, yes-”

“All it took was a bit of spanking, huh? A bit of spanking and you’re fucking putty in my hands.”

You don’t know how to respond, so you simply moan, closing your eyes and enjoying the feeling of his cock gliding into you with each thrust.

“I think you should do it,” he says, releasing your hair to grip your hips roughly. “I think you should cum all over my cock like the desperate little whore you are- come on, cum for me, it’s gonna feel so good-”

His words are bringing you closer and closer to the edge and you both know it.

“Cum on my cock and maybe after I’ll flip you on your back and let you look at me as I continue to fuck you stupid.”

Something inside of you short circuits and your orgasm hits you like a bus, pussy clamping down on Seungcheol’s cock while waves of euphoria overtake you.

“Fuck- just like that-” the man behind you groans, “what a good girl you are-”

For someone using somewhat sweet words, Seungcheol is as rough as ever, your ass smacking against his hips with each powerful thrust-

Under the sounds of you moaning desperately, the bed is squeaking, the whole thing shaking and hitting the wall-

“Holy shit-” Mingyu breathes, but he feels distant-

Seungcheol truly has a way of capturing your attention and holding it, fucking you through your orgasm until you’re clawing at the blanket, tears threatening to spill from overstimulation.

And then, all of the sudden, he’s pulling out of you, and you’re able to take a breath-

Just one breath, as he’s flipping you onto your back a moment later.

“Told ya I’d let you look at me,” he says, slotting between your legs and sinking into your pussy again. “I wanna see that stubborn little face.”

“God-” you gasp, throwing your arms around his big strong shoulders-

“Never been called that before- but I guess it’s better than daddy,” he smirks.

You hate him.

You kind of love him too- if that’s even possible.

The man has you dick whipped, and you both know it.

He presses his lips to yours, and you allow yourself to get lost in the feeling of the kiss. Your hands wander his muscular back, gently clawing at his skin while he fucks you.

“Shit-” he groans when you thread your fingers through his hair, his hot mouth moving to your neck, “feels so good-”

“Want you to cum-” you whisper, lips brushing by his ear, “want you to fill me up so bad-”

“Fuck-” he moans louder, and the sound makes your entire body tingle with pleasure.

“Please-” you whimper, tightening your legs around his hips, “I need it-”

“And I need you to cum with me,” he says, breath teasing your throat. “So how bout you rub your clit for me and get us both there.”

“Fuck- okay,” you slip your hand between your bodies and jolt when you come in contact with your clit, “wait, no- I’m too sensitive-”

“I know princess, but you can do it for me, can’t you? Just a little longer-”

You push through the feeling, closing your eyes and throwing your head back- if it had been a request from anyone else, you would have told them to go to hell, but because it’s coming from Cheol- you find yourself unable to say no.

It’s the way he’d said ‘can’t you?’ It’s a small challenge you can’t bear to not complete.

“There you go,” his lips brush by your neck, “it’s going to feel so fucking good when you cum- I don’t know if you’ll be able to take it.”

“I can take it-” you tell him, although your legs are already beginning to shake.

“That’s my princess.”

“I’m your princess-” you echo.

“Yeah you are,” his hand wraps around your throat, applying just enough pressure to have you seeing stars. “Keep your eyes open, wanna really see you when you cum.”

Your free hand grabs at his wrist, and your fingers rub your clit harder. “I’m gonna-”

“I know princess, me too,” he bites into his bottom lip, eyes looking deep into your own. “Cum with me,” he commands, “cum with me, cum with me, cum with me-”

It takes everything inside of you to keep your eyes open and keep your fingers on your clit while your fourth orgasm of the night takes over.

If the last one had felt like getting hit by a bus, this one feels like an all-consuming electric warmth that fizzles through your body until you feel it in every fiber of your being.

Your eyes are still locked with Cheol’s, his hand applying enough pressure on your throat to have you nearly feeling dizzy- or maybe that’s the orgasm, regardless, you grip his wrist tighter, after all, it’s your only true anchor.

There’s a brief moment where neither of you are moaning, a moment of something like transcendence, and then Seungcheol’s releasing your throat and pressing his lips to yours, stealing away whatever breath you have left.

His hips stutter as he finishes, your tongues continuing to battle it out even as he slowly comes to a stop.

His chest is hot and sweaty pressed against your own, but neither of you care, you’re too lost in each other.

Your heart is thundering against your rib cage, and Seungcheol’s added weight on you doesn’t help, so you push at his shoulders, wanting an inch or two of space-

“Am I crushing you?” he asks, planting his hands on either side of you and lifting himself, finally breaking the kiss to give you a small once over.

“It’s okay,” you say, swallowing and catching your breath. Your eyes close, exhaustion taking over-

“You broke her,” Mingyu’s voice makes you smile but you don’t open your eyes.

It feels nice to just exist for a few moments.

“My bad,” Cheol responds, lifting further off of you.

You try to grab at him, to make him stay, but he easily blocks your hands.

“You two are probably really tired,” Seungcheol muses. “Do you wanna help her to the shower real quick before passing out?”

“I can do that,” Mingyu agrees, and a moment later, he’s scooping you up like a newlywed bride.

Mingyu’s chest is as warm as Cheol’s had been, and you find just as much comfort in him as he carries you towards the bathroom.

You’re too far gone to think of much, but you find yourself looking over Mingyu’s shoulder at Cheol.

He’s pulling his sweatpants back on, running a hand through his bouncy curls, and you realize you’ll never look at him the same way again.

You’ll never be able to look at either of them again without thinking about this, and you’re kind of okay with that.

19: Wednesday - morning

“Hey, daddy.”

Seungcheol can’t help but grin, shaking his head as he continues to fill his mug with coffee at the self-serve breakfast. “You really shouldn’t be calling me that.”

“No?” You shift closer, until your shoulder is touching his. “Why not?”

“For one, your actual dad could be kicking around somewhere, not to mention your step-brothers.” He gives you a quick look before grabbing cream and a pack of sugar. “Nice turtleneck.”

“Thanks.” You begin to fill your cup with coffee, and Seungcheol turns to look out at the large dining room. He leans back against the food table.

“I’m surprised you’re awake this early,” he notes. “Why aren’t you sleeping in with Gyu?”

“I felt like we needed to talk, and when you left the bed this morning- I missed your warmth.”

Your words make him smile, and he crosses an arm over his chest, lifting his coffee to his lips. “This is our last day, are you sure we have to do this?”

“You mean talk like adults?” you counter. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure we have to do this.”

“Aren’t you the one who said we’d never have to see each other again after this?”

“When did I say that?”

“Yesterday, after our talk about daddy issues.” Part of him can’t believe that was less than twenty-four hours ago- so much has changed, so much has happened.

“Right-” you turn to look out at the room, shoulder brushing his again. “Well, I guess I wasn’t considering the fact that you’re roommates with my step-brothers, so… I’m pretty sure I’ll have to see you again.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“I’m not the only one who’d like it,” you insist. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

Seungcheol sips his coffee.

“You and Mingyu would make a cute couple,” he says finally.

“Oh my god, fuck off-” you let out a small laugh.

“I’m being serious.”

“Why are you such a dick to me?”

Seungcheol takes a breath, thinking through his response. “Do you mean right now, or generally?”

You sigh, shrugging. “Both?”

“ Generally? I don’t know- I don’t think I’ve been that bad to you, all things considering. And right now? I guess I’m a dick because if it’s a choice between me and Gyu, you’re pretty stupid for being here with me and not in bed with him. ”

“I don’t see why I have to choose.”

“People always choose. There’s always a preference.”

“Okay…” you sigh. “So I like Mingyu better, is that what you wanted to hear? He’s much nicer to me- you’re right about that. But I like fucking you both around the same amount.”

Seungcheol can’t help but laugh. “I feel like that’s a lie.”

“How about this; I like Mingyu more than you, but you fuck me better- although, I’m not sure I’d fuck you without him there to make sure you’re not too much of a dick.”

He wonders if your use of the word ‘dick’ over ‘douche’ in reference to him is a betrayal of what’s been on your mind this morning.

Seungcheol looks down at his cup, swirling the contents. “I’m not forgetting firewood tonight.”

Now it’s your turn to laugh, and you pat him on the shoulder gently. “That’s okay, something tells me you’ll wanna fuck me again even without the excuse of us being cold.”

Seungcheol opens his mouth-

“Nuh uh,” you stop him, “I want the last word on this. Now enjoy watching me walk away from you, I’m heading back to the cabin to curl up with your better half.”

He’s shocked by you- enthralled even, and as he watches you walk away, he realizes he’s never met a girl like you before.

He realizes that maybe he’s met his match.

20: Wednesday - afternoon

Mingyu’s just decided to stop looking for his friends on the slopes when someone says his name in his ear and he nearly has a heart attack.

“Fuck- Seungcheol- I’ve told you not to sneak up on me like that!” he yells, regaining his balance on his skis in an attempt not to fall over from shock.

“You tell me a lot of things, doesn’t mean I listen,” his friend points out. “Hey listen, we need to talk-”

“About last night, yeah, I know-” Mingyu rolls his eyes, “I’ve been looking for you for like, an hour.”

“I’ve been around,” Seungcheol brushes it off. “So I had a brief talk with princess this morning-”

“Is that her name now?” Mingyu laughs, gawking at the turn of events that’s taken place in such a short period of time.

“Better than calling her by her name, talking about all the ways we made her cum, and having Jeonghan and Joshua show up to overhear us,” Seungcheol points out. “Or worse, her father.”

“Ok, good point.”

“Anyways,” Seungcheol waves a hand, “I talked to her this morning-”

“Yeah, she mentioned you were being a dick again-”

“Of course she did,” Seungcheol’s energy changes, turning gloomy. “What the fuck are we going to do with her?”

“Uh…” Mingyu considers it for a moment, not sure what answer his friend is looking for. “Blow her back out again?”

“And you’re not going to be sad when we leave and go home to different cities?”

Mingyu cocks his head, assessing Seungcheol. “Dude- are you going to be sad when that happens?”

“No.” Suengcheol responds much too quickly.

“You do know that we’re going to see her again, right? Jeonghan and Joshua came by this morning and we had a good talk, they even invited her to come visit sometime soon.”

“Were they suspicious at all?”

“It’s Jeonghan and Joshua, they’re always suspicious,” Mingyu points out. “And to be fair, they did give us permission to fuck her- so you don’t have to be this secretive.”

“This whole thing is making me a little crazy I think,” Seungcheol admits, giving his head a shake.

“Yeah- I’ve never seen you this worked up about a girl.”

“And I’ve never seen you so calm about a girl.”

Mingyu shrugs. “What’s the point in being weird about it? It only makes things messier- but, I mean, I guess you do like messy girls.”

“Shut up.”

“Wow,” Mingyu laughs, “you really are being a dick today.”

“Shut up!”

“Fine-” Mingyu concedes, “but seriously, take a chill pill, everything will be easier if you relax a little.”

21: Wednesday - evening

Dinner had been a little odd, to say the least.

Sat between Mingyu and Seungcheol, across from Jeonghan and Joshua, it’s as if Seungcheol had done everything in his power to act as if you’re still enemies. He’d hardly talked or looked at you the entire time.

Mingyu, on the other hand, had been as attentive as possible without making it obvious that he’d been balls deep in you less than twenty-four hours ago.

Despite the attempt at whatever normalcy you’ve gained with your roommates, something had told you that your step-brothers knew exactly what was going on… and it had only added to the fun of things.

Walking back to the cabins as a group, you’d found yourself next to Jeonghan. The conversation had been light, surface level, but when he’d pulled off to head to his own door, he’d told you to “have a good night, but not too good” with a wink, and the interaction had solidified in your mind the idea that he knows exactly what his roommates are going to do to you.

You all know it. There’s a tension in the air, especially as you, Seungcheol, and Mingyu make your way into your own cabin.

“So,” you say as the door closes behind you, “are we gonna fuck or-”

Arms encircle your waist, lifting you off the ground and cutting you off midsentence. Lips brush by your ear and Mingyu’s voice has you tingling with interest when he confirms, “we’re gonna fuck,” before throwing you onto your bed.

Last night, Mingyu had been the soft needy presence at your back, but today, it’s clear that his energy has shifted, and your heart is thrumming in your chest from the change.

“What are you going to do to me?” you ask in a teasingly seductive voice, rolling onto your back and propping yourself up on your elbows to look at the two men you share your cabin with.

“Gyu’s been wondering how you taste,” Seungcheol says, “and I’ve been thinking that, seeing as you know how he tastes, you might be wondering what I’m like.”

“Ohmygod-” your breath is caught, and Mingyu dropping to his knees at the foot of the bed forces you to tear your eyes away from his friend.

Tonight, you’re definitely going to have troubles deciding who to focus on.

“Can I take these off?” Mingyu asks, grabbing at your pants and tugging gently.

“Yes, please-”

He tears them off of you as easily as anything, and then his hand encircles your ankle, dragging you to the edge of the mattress.

You wonder if he’s going to tear your panties off too, but as Mingyu begins placing sloppy kisses along your inner thighs, his fingers catch in the fabric of your underwear to pull them to the side and you realize he’s not even going to bother with fully undressing you.

He’s frenzied, breath hot as it fans over your entrance, and you both release moans of pleasure when he places his mouth on you, tongue licking a wet stripe along your pussy.

“Fuck-” you whimper, reaching down to tangle your fingers in his hair.

“Feels good?” Seungcheol’s voice prompts you to take a quick look at him, and he comes around the side of the bed. “When’s the last time someone properly ate you out?”

“A while-” you admit, pushing your pussy closer to Mingyu’s face and his tongue slips into your hole, nose brushing by your clit-

“Then you’re going to enjoy this,” Seungcheol tells you, getting onto the bed and prompting you to sit up so he can be something like a backrest for you, your head resting back against his abs, “because Mingyu’s a pussy eating champ.”

“Yeah, he is,” you moan, closing your eyes and enjoying the feeling.

A few moments later, Seungcheol’s toying with your shirt. “This needs to come off.”

You laugh. “Eager to play with my tits again, Cheol?”

“Yeah, so take it all off.”

You begin to comply with the request, and Mingyu pulls away from you long enough to drag your panties down your legs before returning his mouth to your core. You guess all truly means all when Seungcheol’s in charge.

He helps you with your turtleneck, and your hands slip under your back to deal with your bra.

You’re naked in record time.

The man you’re leaning against immediately goes for your breasts, large, warm hands grabbing at you.

“Pretty princess,” he breathes, gentle at first while his friend sucks your clit into his mouth, making your legs twitch around his head. “He wants to make you cum like this before he fucks you,” Seungcheol says, “while you can still be loud- before you have my cock in your mouth. So I think, while you can, maybe you should tell Mingyu how good he’s doing, you both have a thing for praise.”

“Since when-” you stifle a moan, “since when did you know so much about- about his preferences?”

“You’re not the first girl we’ve fucked together princess, no matter how much you wish you were.” His words sting, but they also bring some clarity to you.

No wonder it hadn’t taken much convincing last night- you’d thought you had simply been sexy enough to entice them, but here you are, finding out that they’ve done this before.

Seungcheol captures your nipples between his fingers, pinching hard enough to have you gasping. “You going to do as I say? Or are we going to keep talking about this?”

You definitely don’t want to pry for more information.

“Feels so good Mingyu- fuck, you’re doing so good- please, my clit-”

He pulls your sensitive bud into his mouth again, flicking it with his tongue and making you moan even louder.

“Yes! Just like that- God, I need your fingers too, I want your fingers so bad-”

Mingyu’s always so eager to please, and two fingers slip into your core while he continues to suck on your clit.

“Fuck-” your hips push forward, only for the man eating you out to hold you down with his free hand.

“Sounds like you’re close, princess,” Seungcheol grabs your neck, fingers curling around your throat. “Gonna cum for us?”

“Uh huh,” you bite into your lip, “feels so-”

Mingyu crooks his fingers, rubbing at your sweet spot while his tongue flicks repeatedly at your clit, and you’re practically a goner. Your back arches, Seungcheol’s grip on your throat only heightening the pleasure that begins to sizzle through you. “Fuck- shit- Mingyu-”

You can feel him smiling against your pussy now, groaning and sending vibrations through you that have your toes curling as you drag them against his back-

“You make such pretty sounds when you cum,” Seungcheol muses, pinching your nipple and adding even more to the overwhelm that floods through you.

Mingyu hasn’t let up on your pussy, and it’s almost becoming too much, your hips fighting against his hand-

“Fuck- fuck-” you can’t seem to whimper much else, but it’s enough to have Mingyu pulling away, mouth pressing slopping kisses to your inner thighs while his fingers come to a stop.

“Can I fuck you now?” he asks. “I’ve been thinking about you all day-”

“Please-” your hurt lurches at his words, insides twisting and fluttering-

“We’ve both been thinking about you all day,” Seungcheol corrects, and you open your eyes to look up at the man who has only slightly let up on your throat.

“Have you been thinking about us?” Mingyu asks, his breath fanning over your pussy again, making your legs twitch.

“Mmhmm, been thinking about being perfectly full-” you sigh, running your hand through Mingyu’s hair. “You guys will fill me up, right? Fingers aren’t enough.”

“Greedy princess,” Seungcheol laughs, shaking his head at you.

Mingyu says nothing, he simply grabs your hips and flips you, man handling you into doggy position while Seungcheol gets onto his knees in front of you.

He pulls off his shirt, revealing the chiseled torso you love so much, and then pushes down his joggers, cock springing to attention. “Ready to be full?”

“Is that even a question?” you retort, wrapping your hand around him and guiding his tip to your lips, tongue kitten licking at him.

“No teasing,” Seungcheol says darkly, reaching down to brush your hair out of your face.

Behind you, Mingyu lets out a small laugh, and you enjoy the fact that he obviously finds amusement in the constant struggle you have with Cheol.

His cockhead presses against your wet pussy, slipping just the tip into your hole, and you realize Seungcheol’s right about not enjoying being teased-

“Both of you better fuck me properly,” you warn before sinking your mouth onto the man in front of you.

You’re rewarded when Mingyu follows suit, pushing his cock deep into you and releasing a groan that has your insides fluttering. His large hands grab your hips, securing you when he takes his first thrust.

He’s not rough about it, he doesn’t push you further on his friend when he begins to fuck you, instead, Mingyu allows you to find your own pace with Seungcheol as he finds his own pace with you.

You kind of like it this way, it feels like you’re more in control as you suck on Seungcheol, instead of you being a toy for them to use and fuck into submission.

You’ve sucked big cock before, but there’s something about Seungcheol’s girth that makes it hard to allow him deeper into your throat, so you take to pumping what you can’t suck.

Your eyes close and you enjoy the feeling of pleasuring Seungcheol while Mingyu pleasures you.

“Who knew you’d be so good at this, princess,” Seungcheol breathes above you. “Fuck- your tongue-”

Hearing Seungcheol groan is becoming a new guilty pleasure of yours, and you suck on him even harder, eager for more.

Behind you, Mingyu’s as vocal as ever, moans and grunts of ecstasy tumbling out of him with each snap of his hips. His fingers dig into your skin, and he begins to pull you backwards to meet him, dragging you off his friend.

“Watch it, Gyu,” Seungcheol’s angry growl has you swooning.

As does Mingyu’s response; “Thought you wanted to fuck her face?”

This immediately prompts Seungcheol to rut his own hips forward, meeting Mingyu’s thrusting rhythm to have his cock burying in your mouth with each push and pull.

You had wanted to be stuffed, and now they’re really doing it for you.

Now you feel like their little toy, and something about that makes a new surge of wetness run through your core.

“Fuck- she likes this,” Mingyu groans, “baby, you’re practically dripping-”

“Bet she’d absolutely lose it if you grabbed her ass a little-” Seungcheol points out. “It still hurts from yesterday, right, angel? Still sore from being battered-”

Mingyu shifts one of his hands from your waist to your bum, gently squeezing the bruised flesh-

A flash of pain jitters through you, and it has your pussy throbbing-

“Fuuuuck-” Mingyu moans loudly.

“Told you she’d love it.” The man whose cock is hitting the back of your throat with each thrust of his hips is much too smug about this- “Bet you’re too pussy to actually spank her though.”

You’re shocked at what Seungcheol’s just said, and from the gasping sound behind you, you can bet Mingyu is too.

“I shouldn’t- she wouldn’t-”

Seungcheol pulls his cock out of your mouth, grabbing a fistful of your hair and forcing you to look up at him. “Would you like Mingyu to spank you a little? He won’t do it as hard as me-”

You’re so busy sputtering and trying to catch your breath that you can’t really speak, so you take to nodding, gasping for air before you can finally say “yes-”

“She’ll like it,” Seungcheol confirms, letting go of your hair and slipping himself back into your mouth.

“I-” the man behind you squeezes your bum again, and your body tingles with anticipation. “Fuck, okay-” he removes his hand, only for it to come back down on your ass a moment later, a small smacking noise sounding through the small cabin.

You groan around Seungcheol’s cock, pain tingling through your body in the most delightful way.

“Shit-” Mingyu groans, “I don’t think either of us are going to last if I keep doing that-”

“Aren’t you here to make her cum though?” Seungcheol asks.

“Yeah, but-”

“No buts, Gyu, I’m getting impatient.”

“Fuck, right,” you hear Mingyu swallow. “Okay- I know how to make our princess cum.” He releases your ass, and slips his hand around the front of your body, fingers seeking out your clit.

You whine loudly around Seungcheol’s cock, and he pulls out of your mouth, allowing the sound to fill the room.

There are tears in your eyes from everything that’s been going on, and you sputter, taking a breath and blinking up at Seungcheol. One of his hands is in your hair, and the other is wrapped around his cock, slowly pumping while he watches you. “Is he gonna make you cum?”

“God, yes-” you moan louder as Mingyu applies more pressure to your clit, rutting into you wildly. “Fuck- I’m so close- Mingyu-”

“Me too- shit, you feel so fucking good, oh my god-” his sounds are music to your ears. “Shit- I want you to cum with me- you’ll cum with me right? Come on princess, cum with me-”

You’re not sure who cums first, only that you both fall over the edge around the same time. Mingyu’s hips smack against your sore ass with each rough thrust, his groans and whimpers mingling with your own as your pussy clamps down on his cock and milks him for all he’s worth.

He removes his hand from your clit, grabbing your waist to pull you back to meet the last of his thrusts as he rides out your orgasms.

You can’t even catch a breath when it’s done, because Seungcheol’s insistent “my turn” reminds you that you still have one more man to please- one more man to fuck you stupid.

You’re getting used to being manhandled, and it’s no surprise when Seungcheol flips you onto your back and slots himself between your legs. His eyes assess your face, and he checks in with an “all good?” that has you nodding.

You grab at his shoulders, pulling his mouth to your own, and in your post orgasmic bliss, you find yourself getting lost in Seungcheol’s lips.

He’s an amazing kisser, tongue gliding past your own, teeth teasing by your bottom lip- it makes you squirm below him, locking your ankles together at the small of his back.

You’re impatient and thankfully, you’re not forced to wait for long.

“Messy princess,” Seungcheol breathes, looking down to where he’s tapping the head of his cock against your clit. “Always so needy.”

“Please-” you move your mouth to his throat, kissing and suckling on his skin, nails digging into his strong shoulders.

“Because you asked so nicely.” He pushes into you, inch after inch, until his hips are flush with your own. “Didn’t you just get fucked? How are you still so tight-”

You moan against his neck, teeth grazing by his skin. It’s your last day on vacation, and if there’s ever been a time to mark up the big mean dom with his cock buried in your cunt, it’s now.

“Cheol-” you whimper, “just fuck me-”

His fists clench in the sheets by your head, and he takes his first thrust, cock head pressing against a spot that has you mewling for him, toes curling.

“Like this?” he prompts. “Slow and deep?”

“Then hard and fast,” you tell him.

“Always telling me what to do,” Seungcheol sighs. “As if I don’t already know exactly what to do to have you whimpering under me like a whore in heat-”

“Mmm-” you moan as he begins to fuck you harder, “Cheol-”

“That’s it, those are the sounds I like to hear.”

You love how you’re allowed to simply throw your head back and enjoy the ride. You’re his cute little pillow princess, and you’ll be damned if you don’t make all the noises Seungcheol loves to listen to.

Tracing his muscular shoulders feels like heaven while he fucks you senseless, and it’s easy to get lost in the feeling of him.

A hand slips between your bodies, seeking out your clit, and when you open your eyes, you realize Mingyu is laying next to you, and it’s his fingers rubbing your sensitive nub.

“I like watching you get fucked,” he whispers, leaning forward to press a kiss to your shoulder.

Above you, Seungcheol lets out something between a scoff and a laugh, but his motions continue, thrusts unfaltering.

“Bet you love having both of us like this,” your main dom says after a moment. “Love being the center of attention- you’re just a good little attention whore, aren’t you?”

“Yes, daddy,” you whine, becoming more and more lost in the feeling of them.

“Fuck, I can feel you getting tighter- you close princess? Already?”

You nod, “Mmhmm-”

“Well you’re gonna hold it.”

Your eyes open, and you blink up at Seungcheol, shocked.

“Yeah,” he grins, “you heard me. Hold it.”

“But-” you dig your nails into his shoulders.

“No buts, hold it.” He leans over you, lips ghosting past your ear. “You want to cum with me, don’t you?”

“Yes, daddy, but-”

“Wait a little longer,” Seungcheol insists.

“It feels so good-” you whine louder, body tingling as both men continue their assault on your pussy. “I wanna cum so badly-”

The man above you releases a moan at your words.

You grab at Seungcheol’s shoulders again, pulling him close so you can be the one whispering in his ear. “Daddy- it feels so good, I wanna cum- you feel so fucking good- so deep- please let me cum- cum with me, please- I need it-”

Seungcheol groans louder, fucking you even harder-

“Please, daddy, fill me up- I wanna be filled, I want your cum-”

“Shit-” he bites down into his lip, rutting into you wildly.

“Just like that, daddy, just like that- you’ll let me cum, right?”

“Fuck-”

“You sound so close,” you whisper, gently biting at his ear lobe, “are you close, daddy?”

Seungcheol releases a deep groan, one hand reaching down to anchor your hips. “On the count of five, princess-” he tells you, “five, four, three-” your muscles ache from holding back your orgasm, “two, one.”

Your entire body shakes as you finally release, gasps of ecstasy escaping you as you wrap your arms around Seungcheol, burying your face against his neck.

“Fuck-” he grunts, continuing to ride you through your highs while Mingyu applies even more pressure to your clit with his nimble fingers.

“Shit- Cheol- fuck, Gyu!” you push your hips up, only to be held down by the man above you, the pleasure becoming almost too much for you to handle.

You can feel tears in your eyes.

All you can do is hold onto Seungcheol and take what’s being given to you, muscles screaming as the feeling of orgasmic bliss overwhelms your entire form.

Mingyu’s the first to let up on you, removing his hand while Seungcheol finishes the last of his thrusts.

You’re both gasping, and it feels only right to grab Seungcheol’s face, bringing his lips to your own to muffle your sounds as his movements slowly come to a stop.

“Crying again?” Seungcheol sighs when he tears his mouth from your own, looking down at you with an expression mixed with concern and amusement.

“Feels good,” you tell him weakly. “Hate that it’s the last night.”

“It’s still early,” Mingyu says from next to you, leaning in to kiss your shoulder again. “I have another few rounds in me.”

“I’m sure you do,” you laugh, body flooded with too many emotions to count.

“Let’s give you a sec,” Seungcheol suggests, “and then we can decide what to do next.”

The answer is obvious to you already.

You want to do them next… or is it again?

Either way, you’re determined to fuck these men until you can’t feel your legs.

It’s your last night here, and you’ll be damned if you don’t make the most of it.

22: thursday - departure

It’s only day two of waking up in bed next to you, but Mingyu knows he enjoys this view infinitely more than the visual he’d become accustomed to from the couch.

Sure, his best friend is curled up at your back, but Mingyu still gets a prime vantage point in front of you.

He’s the first to wake up, and he lays there in silence, listening to you breathe.

He’d never expected this, but to be fair, he’d never expected Jeonghan and Joshua’s mom to remarry again.

This whole thing has been a whirlwind of events that Mingyu could have never conjured up in his wildest dreams.

While it’s true he and Seungcheol have fucked girls together before- it had always been a one night thing, never two in a row. And Mingyu’s never woken up squished on a double bed with a girl between him and his roommate-

Behind you, Seungcheol shifts, body unconsciously drawing you closer, and for some crazy reason, the sight makes Mingyu relax a little.

Mingyu knows he’s whipped, but there’s no going back now.

All he can do is enjoy these last few hours… and press your new step-brothers for a visit in the very near future.

23: thursday - departure

“Don’t be stupid,” Seungcheol says as you lift your suitcase to start down the cabin stairs.

“Don’t call me stupid,” you snap back.

Seungcheol can’t help but smile. Your words have little effect on him, not now that he’s made you cum more times than he can count.

“Let me carry this for you,” he insists, pushing your hand away from your luggage handle.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, princess,” Seungcheol laughs, “I’m sure.”

The two of you start down the stairs while Mingyu locks up behind you.

A hundred feet away, Jeonghan and Joshua are also leaving their cabin.

“Hey you three,” Jeonghan grins, waving, “sleep well last night?”

There’s always an edge to his words now, and Seungcheol knows what his friend is hinting at, but he pushes through with a casual response. “Slept okay, you guys?”

“Slept fine,” Jeonghan’s clearly not too impressed with Seungcheol’s answer, but doesn’t push for more. Instead, he hits Seungcheol with a “nice turtleneck.”

When Seungcheol had realized you’d marked him after your first few orgasms last night, he’d made you pay for it, but now he’s the one facing consequences by being stuck in a matching shirt, the both of you hiding hickeys.

Mingyu’s the only one of the three of you who had left the bed unscathed, but Seungcheol supposes that’s a testament to his gentle way of going about things.

“What time is the airport shuttle coming?” Mingyu asks, changing the topic.

“In fifteen minutes,” Joshua answers, checking the watch on his wrist. “We’ve got time.”

As your rag tag band of people begin down the snow path towards the resort, Seungcheol makes an effort to be truly present. You may have time to get to the shuttle, but he’s painfully aware that the time he has with you is running out.

Even so, there’s something that tells Seungcheol he’ll see you again, and for whatever reason, he guesses it will be sooner than he might think.

24: thursday - departure

Your ass hurts, but it’s the best hurt you’ve ever felt as your plane lifts off the tarmac to take you home.

This week had been unexpected.

You’re not really sure how you’d pictured it going down, but you definitely hadn’t imagined getting fucked by your new step brothers’ roommates.

You hadn’t imagined becoming absolutely dick whipped for them either.

And yet here you are.

It hurts to set your phone on airplane mode, to message your new tiny group chat and let Seungcheol and Mingyu know that you’ve taken off, but at least the chat will be there for you when you land.

The fact that Mingyu had insisted on a group chat - and Seungcheol hadn’t muttered a word of protest - tells you that maybe they like you as much as you like them.

You don’t think they’re the kind of guys that would fuck their friends’ step-sister just for shits and giggles, but you remind yourself that you truly haven’t known them for long.

You’ll have to take Jeonghan up on his offer of coming to visit sometime, and until then, you might just have to wallow in your sexual frustration.

Fuck, what a trip this had been.

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! this was such a long one, but i feel like the slow burn needed to happen lol :)

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🔮 preview. “Is now the part where you throw me over your shoulder, take me to your room, and fuck me with your best friend?” Seungcheol laughs at your question, “Now is the part where we see if you’ve been lying about anal training in the group chat.”

cw/ tw. mentions of toys, dirty talk, praise, degradation spanking, oral (m/f receiving), rim job, back shots, anal, unprotected sex, double penetration, etc...

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 4.6k I teaser wc. 355

🌙 staring. Seungcheol & Mingyu x afab!Reader

bonus teaser

“Guess who I just got off the phone with?” Jeonghan says, waltzing into the apartment living room with a grin on his face.

“Your doctor?” Seungcheol answers, not bothering to tear his gaze from the tv where they’re watching the baseball game. “He told you you’re officially chlamydia free?”

“You know what-” Jeonghan lifts up a pillow, attacking his friend with it while Seungcheol giggles and blocks the hits, “you better not bring this up ever again! I’ll call my sister back right now and tell her not to bother coming if you’re going to be like this-”

“You invited your sister over?!” Mingyu and Seungcheol perk up instantly, with the elder grabbing the pillow from Jeonghan and tearing it from his hands to throw to the side.

“Invited her for a week next month,” Jeonghan confirms, “but I can call her back right now-”

“You didn’t invite her for the week we’re going to be out of town, did you?” Joshua sighs, already knowing exactly where this story is going- and Jeonghan’s grin confirms it. “Did you bother telling our step-sister that we wouldn’t be here?”

“She didn’t need those details,” Jeonghan insists, “we all know why she’s coming to visit.”

Mingyu and Cheol shift in their seats, and Jeonghan delights in being the puppet master behind getting his closest friends laid.

“I’m going to go call her-” Joshua stands, reaching for his phone.

“No-” Jeonghan whines, “it should be a surprise-”

Joshua ignores his brother, leaving the room to call you, only to return a few minutes later. “Her flight is already booked,” his gaze shifts to his roommates, “you two better take care of her the week she comes to visit.”

“You say that as if we didn’t take care of her last time,” Seungcheol protests.

“You two know exactly what I’m saying,” Joshua says, looking directly at Seungcheol and Mingyu. “Promise me you’ll actually take her places and show her around.”

“We promise,” Mingyu says earnestly, and Joshua has no doubt that Mingyu’s already planning to take you to some of his favourite restaurants- Seungcheol on the other hand… he’s not too sure about.

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son1c · 4 months

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Ok but what does Shadow think of Jack and Teddy? Is he indifferent to them or do they big their way into his mind?

jack pisses him off cuz she's very combative and rude. this is HER town, these are HER slopes, and when shadow starts to infringe on ""HER"" rival, she teams up with sonic to take him down. like, she's petty enough to put her and sonic's rivalry aside if it means putting shadow in his place.

however, shadow might also see her attitude as a little... refreshing? it's hard to explain. but like, snowpoint is this idyllic hallmark town where everyone is nice and welcoming (to an uncanny and scary degree). so to have jack be like "piss off, i hate you" has shadow being like "finally, someone normal" LMAOOOOO

later when she decides to work with shadow as a means to protect her town, he doesn't really wanna. let her help? i mean, he's the ultimate lifeform. he's got this. he doesn't NEED anyone's help. but jack is SO pushy, and she's kind of... right. about how she knows her way around better than shadow, since she grew up around here. and she can get herself out of any sticky situation irt the terrain, whereas shadow has been struggling a little bit, because the ice and snow seriously disagree with his chosen mode of transportation (heat-based rocket skates).

so he begrudgingly agrees to let her help. and she pulls her weight. he's gotta respect it.

as for teddy... yeah, he doesn't like him at all at first. at least with jack, he's not unfamiliar with her specific type of bad attitude? but with teddy, it's different. he does feel a little bad for him, since, once he figures out that starline is behind everything, he also realizes that teddy has been manipulated into playing the role of sonic's "love interest" and has had his feelings messed with as a result.

shadow can sympathize.

and maybe he even opens up to teddy about it, just a little bit. that sort of emotional manipulation is extremely difficult to come to terms with, it can flip your whole world upside down. and he's BEEN there, with maria's promise being twisted into something so violent in the past. but teddy would've thrown it back in his face, like, "you're only saying that so you can have sonic all to yourself" or something like that. and for shadow, who rarely EVER offers that sort of openness, it would've stung.

but again, it's. familiar. isn't it?

and at the end of it all, shadow is just a little bit enamoured by teddy's boldness. maybe it was a little late, but teddy finally responded to shadow's openness with some of his own. and it's not every day mr dark and brooding gets a kiss for saving the day!

#anonymous #text heavy #i wrote so much and for what. i'm insane #snowpoint sonic

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theredofoctober · 4 months

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RUMPLESTILTSKIN— An Oliver Quick/Reader Saltburn DarkFic

Pairing: Oliver Quick/You, Oliver Quick/Reader (no gender specified, terms like pretty are used though just to mention)

Synopsis: Oliver finds You, the awkward guest at his birthday party, and takes what his dark heart desires.

Trigger Warnings (PLEASE READ): noncon, blood play, Oliver just being evil

Fic under the cut, keep reading

"Who are you, then?"

It was the small man that said it, the one with the slurring Nothern accent and eyes like ice picks, palely sharp.

You'd seen him swaying on the outer edge of the party, seeming both drunk and far too sober, all at once.

His face was odd, flat, and sleek, like a trickster in a German folk story: thief of children, bringer of gold.

You hated the boy in a moment, drawing back from him against a trellis, your hands wrapped fast through the slats. His eyes made you wish you'd drunk rather less than you had done, silver as scissor blades in the swelling night.

"I'm one of Venetia's friends," you said, though you knew Felix more, and Farleigh rather better than you liked to. "You don't know me. Who are you?"

The boy stepped around a plant pot, his balance the measure of sobriety. He wore deer antlers with an open-chested white suit, embroidered with leaves, the dress of a more handsome man. Only the slopes of his cheekbones, the soft mouth were beautiful.

His eyes made an autopsy of you. There was nothing in them but wanting, a starving colour. An absence of it.

You would have turned to run, only there was nothing then to fly from that made sense.

"I'm Oliver," said the young man. "It's my birthday party. Felix's family arranged it all for me."

"Happy birthday," you said, at once, a reflex.

You wished that he'd go away, that he would edge into the maze like a shadow thrown by the sun, and meld with the dark of the leaves beyond. Anything but approach as he did then, his compact form eating of the air between you with carnivorous haste.

He was slight enough that you thought you might push him down or aside with little effort, but the poise of him, as delicate as a barber's blade, gave you pause. He'd cut you if you touched him, you thought. Something would happen, and you would run crying as you had from a dozen birthday celebrations as a child, unwanted.

He brought that old vulnerability up out of you, somehow, though he hadn't yet done much but broach the most innocent of smalltalk.

"How come you're over here, on your own?" asked Oliver, his head at a sympathetic incline. "You're too pretty for that. You know that, don't you?"

His voice was a sing-song croon, then, all silken menace. He was trying to charm you, you knew that, yet you saw as though through the beads of a brothel doorway the hunger in him, the appetite of worlds.

You glanced right and left, realising, with an awful start, how very drunk you were, swaying and stupid with it.

"I needed some fresh air," you said, with a high, braying laugh— Oliver half-smirked at the sound of it, knowing its falseness, knowing your fear. "All that bloody champagne went right to my head."

"You'll need someone to look after you, then," said Oliver, and then he uttered your name, making a baleful ditty of its syllables.

How had he known it? Had he known it all along?

You'd glimpsed him watching you, before, an empty glass in hand, attaching himself to your heels like a stoat after a rabbit, all lithe cunning on the hunt. Likely he'd heard your name then, as Felix had bent down to kiss your cheek, all affable golden looks. Heard it, and slipped it into the pocketbook of his mind to tear free, when it was needed.

Your name was pretty on Oliver's tongue, sugar, and ribbon, and stained glass, as apt to break. Happily you'd have taken the pieces and cast them all out into the riverbed, have gone nameless rather than hear him speak it again.

"You don't know anyone else here, do you?" asked Oliver, and there was the word again, no longer ribbon, but rough as a noose, strangling as he came closer still. "Just the Catton family. Something in common, me and you."

You lurched vaguely to the right, and Oliver's arm came up against the trellis, gently, a tender trap.

"You're lonely," he said. "Haven't you always been, though?"

His face was close enough for you to note the punctuation of a mole on his right cheek, the lines at his brow, the riddled literature of him. What he saw in yours was a portal to the past, all features from the nervous mouth to the twitching eyelids telling of a once bullied child, an outcast brought in through charity from the cold.

"Go away, Oliver," you said, bravely. "I want to be alone. I can't breathe."

That was true enough. You were stifled in your plastic wings and ill-fitting garments, sweating and airless, almost wanting to be sick.

Oliver drew his face nearer, and your throat closed to the breadth of a lock in your dread of him, of those ink spill eyes.

"I don't want you to breathe," he said. "Not right now."

Then he darned his lips to yours, their heat, their softness like the death of summer blooms, and you pressed back into the trellis so hard that you thought the wood might break, so brittle did it seem.

You brought up your hands to battle his shoulders, only for them to be joined with his, your fingers tangling, a torsion of slick skin and bone.

There were no thoughts that survived the cruelty of Oliver's embrace, the insistence of his compact strength, the length of tongue, of arousal under clothing, at your thigh. You wanted to snap free of him like a spell, but he kissed you until your fight withdrew in sight of its fair winner.

No one came close enough to see you, or if they did they thought you drunken lovers, poised to consummate your pash against the fence.

At last Oliver moved back his head, the reflection of the night's obsidian in his mortuary eyes.

"Let me go," you whispered. "I don't want to do this. I don't want you."

"Well, I want you, though," said Oliver, with an authority that frightened you in its unshifting weight. "And since nobody else here does, what's the point in saying no?"

His hands, little and wicked, wore their way under clammy layers of clothes. In all the heat they were almost cold, dragging from you a series of ragged gasps that were lost in the revelling darkness.

You wished the wings at your back were feathered, those of swans; they'd have broken the bones in his arm and you out of this, far lovelier a transportation than the sticky taxi that would bear you home in the hours to come.

Yet had such pretty things hung from your back this beast named Oliver would have bitten them off and flossed their quills through his teeth, you knew it.

He touched you until his findings were of stolen treasure, watching your every tendon solidify to strands of stone through the art of such fell grief.

"You weren't what I came looking for tonight, you know," he said. "But you're mine, anyway."

You didn't answer, imagined any word drowned like a cat in the depths of him.

Oliver stepped into you with a dancing softness and kissed you again, sucking a plum welt into your lower lip, breaking it between his teeth to blood. Again you struck your hands against him, but Oliver, with liquid instinct, pushed your arms back through the apertures in the trellis, caring little for the splinters in your wrists, if at all.

Crucifixion could not be so painful, so martyring as your capture beneath him.

"Oliver," you said, and he smiled.

"That's me. The birthday boy. And what does the birthday boy get?"

He opened your costume with the hook of four fingers, touched the bruised rose of princely lips to your ear.

His breath was smoke, and champagne, and stolen blood.

"I get what I want," he said, and then his cock was an arrow at the heart of your waiting horror, his slight hips a harp played against you, moving in the strum of entry, into the gold he made of your pain.

You screamed, and the sound was devoured by the bacchanal night. Oliver took you slowly, with patient intelligence, feeling each trembling agony of your body and twisting it, by sorcery, into something else. His eyes were a witch's orbs through which he knew you, psychic, solipsistic—

You were ivy about the wand of him, a thing that would poison the man, were he not immune to its effects. He fucked you as though he thought it romantic, somehow, this violence in a friend's pungent garden, the scent of flowers and trodden grass and arousal a perfume to woo.

There was blood on both of your faces, on his bare chest, under the blazer. It frightened you, suddenly, a tarot spread of death in the summer night—

Your panic, the heaviness of lingering champagne, the attack like Zeus upon a swan; all of it made you limp, in Oliver's grip.

He paused in his taking of you to hold you upright, studying your face under the Midas yellow of a nearby lamp.

"Stand up straight for me, now," he said. "And look at me. Look at me."

He tapped your cheek— not a slap, far too soft for that, as though the concern in the vicious gossamer in his voice was real.

"You want me to make you feel good about yourself. Need me. Don't you?"

"No," you said, but as Oliver kissed you again, and a firework shrieked somewhere against your eardrum, you lost what temporary power you'd had to resist him.

Like a spindled sleeper you endured his lovemaking, swallowed his tongue like a precious key. Your body was a pulse in deep water, stirred by hands and cock into a dripping arc.

Oliver moaned against your tattered lips, his arms about you in embrace. The heat of him would follow you, afterwards, the haunting of his lust's smoke from dream to dream.

He moved away from you, aided you in pulling your arms back through the trellis. For a moment he tried to hold you, his murmuring at your hair, its comfort indistinct.

Then, as you ripped him from you like the segment of a rotten apple he wiped himself clean of your blood; the rag he used was something torn from your garments in the fury of his love, a token of it. A thread from the maze.

You sat down in the grass and stared up at Oliver, seeking some answer. Assistance from the breaker of will.

"Go home," he said, at last. "Felix doesn't want you. And now—"

Oliver shook his head, and the peat fire of his eyes was of the underworld, then, of sapphire death gone to ash.

"I don't want you either. Not anymore."

Then he turned from you, and walked away, towards the house, his fey shape a shadow puppet on the wall.

#saltburn fic #oliver quick x reader #oliver quick #saltburn #dead dove do not eat #darkfic #tw noncon #tw assault #tw blood #oliver quick x you

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theragethatisdesire · 10 months

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much ado about nothing chapter 5 - plug!eren x reader - 18+!!!

DISCLAIMER: this post contains MATURE CONTENT that is intended only for those over 18. minors and ageless blogs, please do not read below the cut.

i have successfully kicked my writer's block to the curb and am ready to pick back up on plug!eren!!!! woohoo!! this is the part of the story where it gets really plot heavy and there's a lot of moving parts, so it's been a fun exercise to write and brainstorm. if anything is confusing or u have any theories/questions PLEASE hit my inbox i'm so down bad for plug eren i could talk about him for days.

get ready to meet a new character who is......not the best lol. this is also the first chapter written in eren's pov :o things are about to get interesting!

still haven't caught up? series masterlist HERE <3

specific cws: mentions of smut but nothing outright, alcohol use, swearing, u know the drill

“If music be the food of love, play on. / Give me excess of it, that, surfeiting, / The appetite may sicken and so die.” - Twelfth Night by William Shakespeare (Act I, Scene 1)

Eren is, admittedly, a romantic person, especially given his occupation. Not romantic in the cheesy, buying-flowers and kissing-in-the-rain sense, but he appreciates the little details of life. He loves autumn, when the leaves catch on fire with the changing of the season. He loves the little crook of a woman’s neck, that slope where it goes from tendon to shoulder to collarbone. He can appreciate a good bourbon; after years of raiding his dad’s stash, he developed a palate for it early on. Eren’s romantic nature leads him to believe in signs. When the universe tells him something, he listens.

The text still sat in his inbox unopened, marinating in its own bizarre, heartbreaking nature.

> heyyyy lover boy! i’m back from austria! missed u, let’s catch up ;)

Eren knows that Breeze knows him, knows him well enough to understand that his three-week radio silence isn’t a no, it’s a maybe. He hates himself for not immediately texting her back and telling her to fuck off, but after his conversation with you, he thinks it might be the universe telling him it’s safe this time, that he won’t end up a shell of himself. Maybe.

You had been firm in your assertion that you and Eren were better off as friends, and as much as he wanted to fight it, Eren respects women. As much as he can when he’s prone to wrenching their jaws open and spitting in their mouths while he’s balls deep inside them, at least. He’s disappointed, but he respects it, and if he’s honest, he likes you.

He likes your sharp humor, likes the way you tend to keep your hair up off of your neck, likes the way your eyes light up when someone gives you an excuse to talk about your studies. He hasn’t been “just friends” with a woman in a long time, but it’s refreshing, an excuse to go grab a coffee and shoot the shit like a normal person instead of lurking in the corner of a frat party handing out pills like a perverse ice cream truck.

The last three weeks of “friends” have been the best Eren’s had in a long time. You’re easy, that’s what he likes about you. He can drop the cold mask he wears so often, giggle over a stupid meme, listen intently as you prattle on about some long-dead 18th-century author that was “so ahead of her time!”, smirk when you chastise him for doodling little hearts and flowers all over your coursework.

Sure, he still steals a glance down your shirt when he can, and he’d never admit it, but he thinks about you late at night. He thinks about you when he’s in the shower, when he’s got himself in his hand, panting and swearing under his breath, but he manages to feel enough guilt over it to still consider you a friend. You’re caring and considerate and easy, wholesome fun, unlike someone that’s made a sudden reappearance into his life.

After that first night, just when he was starting to entertain the thought of promoting you from one night stand to official fuck buddy, the closest thing to commitment Eren allows himself to maintain these days, Breeze swept back into his life, and you hit the brakes on him. While it may not have been the sign he wanted to receive, Eren’s a romantic, and he listens to the universe, especially when it goes so far out of its way to tell him something.

He’s decided to let Breeze stew for a little while longer. Campus will be clearing out for Thanksgiving break soon, along with most of his business, and he’s going to wait until his hands are empty of work and you before answering her. Plus, she had flitted off to Europe after college like their entire relationship had been nothing more than a passing phase; Eren’s owed at least a little bit of pettiness, right?

> paradise ath 1130! see uthere ;)

Eren snorts at your text. Being as uptight as you are about grammar (you’re constantly hounding him about his texting style, and he’s been making them even more incorrect just to hear you berate him), he knows you’re not just texting quickly, you’re drunk.

“Yo, ‘min!” Eren calls into the kitchen, an excited flutter already rising in his chest beneath his hoodie.

“Yeah?” Armin’s head pops around the doorframe, a dab of ketchup on the corner of his mouth.

“Wanna go to Paradise later?”

“The club?” Armin’s nose wrinkles. Connie’s head appears right beside Armin, a wide grin splitting his face.

“Oh, hell yeah,” Connie answers for both of them before Armin has the chance to shoot the idea down, “who’s going?”

“Like you don’t know the answer to that,” Armin scoffs, ducking back into the kitchen with a roll of his eyes.

“I never took her for a ‘club’ type of girl,” Connie adds air-quotes to emphasize his confusion.

Eren mulls that over for a moment; he doesn’t really take you for a club type of girl either, but from the sound of it, Historia and Sasha have already done the job of getting you good and drunk and talking you into a night on the town. Eren’s always wanted to see what you’re like when you’re well and truly fucked up; every time you indulge him with a story from college, he ends up laughing so hard he’s clutching his stomach and gasping for breath.

Supposedly, when you go all out, you drop the mom-friend act and become a little less tame; is this Eren’s opportunity to get an eyeful for himself? He’s not waiting around to find out.

Eren shrugs. “Come help me make these runs and we’ll go. Armin, you’re driving.”

The drop-offs are uneventful, and as soon as Eren steps foot inside the club, his nose scrunches with distaste. Ironically, he’s never been into the partying scene, much preferring a quiet beer at Scout’s or a blunt on the couch to a club. The music’s horribly loud, bass thudding through the fabric of his hoodie and beating against his chest, and as he looks for you, he can barely see through the mass of bodies and the fog machines. You’re here? It’s difficult for Eren to imagine you, in your favorite flannel and those cute little Vans he likes, tucked against the bar throwing back your signature craft beer. As Connie urges him and Armin in the direction of the bar, calling for green tea shots, Eren nearly regrets his decision, until fingernails dig into his shoulder, spinning him on his heels.

“Hey, you.”

Eren blinks stupidly as you grin up at him through thick, black lashes. He’s never even dared to imagine you like you are now, piercing eyes gazing up at him through a heavy dusting of makeup and the shortest, tightest dress Eren’s ever seen hugging every inch of your curves. You look sinful in a way he’s never seen you before, not even when he was holding you tight to him and wrenching out orgasm after orgasm from your body. He gulps.

“Holy shit– hey,” he lets you pull him in for an overexcited hug, bites down on the inside of his cheek to distract himself from the bulge already swelling in his pants.

“I missed you!” You pinch his cheeks, much to Eren’s dismay.

“Just saw you yesterday– quit pinchin’ me. What are you even doing here? Didn’t think this was your scene.” Eren has to actively keep his eyes trained on your face; there’s a little bead of sweat traveling down the expanse of skin between your breasts that’s making his mouth water. Friends, he scoffs in his mind. Are you trying to kill him?

“Well, it’s not, but Sasha says I need to be more fun, and Stor says I need to find a boyfriend.” You gesture around like it’s obvious. Eren cocks an eyebrow, ignoring the inappropriate envy that twists in his stomach at the mention of the word ‘boyfriend’.

Boyfriends never like the guy friends, it’s practically a law of nature. If you’re dating around, it’s only a matter of time before some square in a button-down steals you away from your coffee dates and movie nights with Eren, but he can’t get too caught up in that now, not when you’re looking up at him all dizzy and sexy and bursting at the seams.

“Don’t know if this is the place for that.”

“That’s what I said!” Oh, you’re drunk drunk, all of your movements overexaggerated and shaky. It makes him want to laugh seeing you like this; his little book nerd, trashed and mere inches away from having her ass out at a club. Well, either laugh or drag you into the bathroom to bend you over the sink. He can’t be sure.

“Hey mama!” Connie shouts over at you, handing you a shot. Eren has half a mind to snatch it out of his hand after catching the slurring in your voice, but he’s too late; you throw it back without so much as a shudder, grinning all wide and wet and pretty when you swallow.

“I didn’t think you’d actually show up,” you tell him, pulling him down by his collar so you can speak into his ear. Eren has to bite back a groan at the feel of your hot lips against his ear. Friends, he reminds himself urgently, pushing you back from him but keeping his hands firm on your hips, relishing in the way your flesh gives under his grip.

“You know the rules. You call, I come.”

“That’s what she said,” you snicker, pinching his cheek again.

“Cut that out!”

“Make me.” Oh fuck, Eren’s going to die. He’s going to die if you keep looking at him like that, bottom lip tucked between your teeth and fuck-me eyes on him.

“You’re not being very friendly,” he manages to choke out, trying his hardest to give you a suspicious look through the dizzying wave of images that flash through his brain. You with your mouth full of him. You spread out on his bed, back arched and fingers twisted in his hair. The little “o” your mouth made when you rode him for the first time. Eren wants to smack himself, jump in a cold shower, something. Get a grip, dude.

“Maybe not,” you shrug, eyes darting over to the bar. “Hurry up and grab a drink, I wanna dance.”

“Not much of a dancer,” Eren admits, taking the beer that Connie hands him.

“Don’t worry, I’ll do all the work.”

Eren isn’t sure if he likes or loves the sound of that, powerless against that stupid little dress you’ve got on as you drag him behind you to the mass of bodies he had so disdainfully eyed on his way in. He’s greeted by a loud round of shrieking, one more pinch to the cheek by Historia and a slap on the ass from Sasha. You make a show of teasing him for how pink his face gets, but luckily, your friends are instantly distracted by Armin and Connie’s arrival right behind him. You pull him back down, glossy lips pressed right against his ear.

“I really like this song.” You’re barely audible over the pounding music, but even if Eren hadn’t heard what you said, he’d get the gist from the way you grind against his thigh, slow and sensual. Maybe you are actually trying to kill him.

“Yeah?” He’s breathless, irreparably and embarrassingly caught in the little web you’ve woven.

“Yeah.” You’re moving harder against him now, throwing your arms around his neck and grinding your hips into his. Eren’s only thought is to let his hands fly back to your hips, let you use him like a stripper pole to show off.

He can feel eyes on him, not the eyes of friends, but of other men around him, wondering who the lucky asshole is that’s getting the royal treatment from a girl as hot as you. If he were to be truthful, it’s getting him off, how every eye is on you and, by proxy, him, holding you like a lifeline as you let the beat rock through your body.

So this, this is the party girl you claim to have living deep inside you. This seductive, electric creature moving tantalizing against his body, this is the source of the stories Historia tells him that make you blush? How you could ever be embarrassed of this is beyond him; you’re like a little devil, sent straight from hell just to torture him, and Eren’s mouth is watering.

Song after song goes by, and you don’t let up, don’t let him catch his breath for a moment, moving from facing him to pressing your ass into his crotch and then back again, arms above your head or wrapped around his neck. Eren wishes he was mentally sound enough at the moment to feel ashamed that you can absolutely feel how hard he is through his pants right now, but he’s drunk on you, letting you press into him so insistently he has to tug your dress down for you, letting you drive him so crazy that he’s grateful for the loud music now. He’d die if Connie or Armin could hear the way he’s grunting and groaning low under his breath, powerless underneath you.

Suddenly, as if you haven’t just been riling him up for the last half hour, you back away enough to face him, shaking your empty cup and him and mouthing something that Eren’s still too dizzy to make out.

“Huh?”

“Get me another drink!” you shout over the bass, laughing at him.

Eren nods stupidly, darting away from you before he can grab your jaw, pull your lips to his like he so desperately wants to. Finally out of the throng of bodies, he can feel his head clearing, some semblance of sanity crashing over him. What the fuck has gotten into him? It was just one night, and you’ve kept him at arm’s length ever since, only seeing each other under the guise of coffee, or a beer, or Eren insisting you need to continue your education in the wonders of horror films. You’re drunk, that’s the only explanation; drunk and teasing him like you aren’t going to wake up and throw him right back into the friendzone. He rests both elbows on the bar, shaking his head like he’ll be able to knock some sense into himself if he rattles his brain around a little.

Eren orders your vodka soda and a beer and a shot for himself, something to clear his head and keep his blood pressure manageable. Hopefully, at least.

When he turns around, drinks in hand, that plan flies out the door. There you are, center of the dance floor, hands above your head and hips moving like you’re intentionally trying to make him lose his fucking mind. He tilts his head in interest when a man approaches you, grazes his hands over your hips like he means to start grinding against you. Eren can feel his own hands tightening around the bottle and the plastic cup in his hand, but he holds himself back; he’s got no claim on you, and if you’re willing to entertain the man (who, if you ask Eren, is way below your standards), who is Eren to stop you?

You surprise him in the best way: when the man touches you lightly, you whip around, brows furrowed and a little glitter in your eyes so mean that even Eren nearly flinches. He can’t read your lips in the low light, but he snorts to himself anyway as the man puts his hands up and backs away from you, eyes wide. As if nothing had happened, you spin back on your heel, facing a cackling Sasha with a shrug.

Eren feels a wide, proud smile blooming on his face. As much as he feels an unwarranted protectiveness towards you, he likes watching you get your teeth out and stand up for yourself. Before he can make his way back over to tease you, a voice from his left makes his blood run cold.

“Rennie?!”

Two thin arms are tossed around his neck before Eren can even respond, the familiar scent of vanilla and coconut enveloping him.

“Breeze?” Eren chokes out, too shocked to keep his composure. She pulls away from him and grins, a little diamond glittering from her right canine tooth.

“You didn’t text me back, you tease,” she swats at his chest, snags the vodka soda he’d bought for you right out of his hand, taking a sip. Eren takes the opportunity to swallow hard around the lump in his throat, one last tentative glance towards you before he turns his gaze back to Breeze.

She’s cut her hair, something short and choppy that swings around her ears, and fuck, she’s still just as pretty as he remembers, little freckles on her button nose visible in the darkness of the club.

“Didn’t think you wanted to see me,” Eren shrugs, forcing his face to remain schooled into one of cold apathy. She had left him, like he was nothing to her. He hates her, he realizes, god, he hates her so much it burns in his veins. Breeze cocks her head, frowning.

“Why would you think that?”

“You fucking left me, Breeze, don’t be stupid,” Eren makes a move to steal the drink back from her, but she holds it close enough to her chest that he’d have to practically grope her to take it, and his fingers recoil at the realization.

“Are you double-fisting, or did you buy this for someone special?” She teases, brushing right over Eren’s bristly demeanor. When he doesn’t answer, she raises her eyebrows. “It’s for someone. Well, point her out! Is she cute?”

Breeze turns on her heel, standing on her tiptoes to glance through the crowd. Before he can stop himself, Eren’s grabbing her upper arm, spinning her back to face him with anger blazing in his eyes. When he meets her gaze, her baby blues are alight with mischief, and he knows that no matter which direction he moves, he’s losing whatever little game she has him trapped in. That was the thing about Breeze; Eren was always losing her games.

“Fuck, just…just stop it, Breeze. What are you even doing here?”

“I’m back in town, didn’t you see my text?” Breeze shrugs innocently, sipping your drink.

“Okay, well, welcome back,” Eren deadpans, leaving her question hanging in the air between them. He turns back to the bar to order another cocktail for you, having given up hope of getting the first one back from Breeze, but she’s relentless, has always been that way. She slides up to the bar beside him, smiling demurely up at him.

“I missed you, you know.”

“Wouldn’t have guessed,” Eren scoffs, rolling his eyes. Breeze flinches, but Eren knows her better than that. It’s all an act, it always is.

“I never realized how much I hurt you,” her fingers grazing over his cheek nearly burn with how cold they are in contrast to the heavy, thick air around them, “‘m sorry, Rennie.”

“It’s fine.” Eren hates the way he twitches and nearly leans into her touch when she swipes her fingers over him. How many times has he thought about this, seeing her again after all these years? Everything he’s planned out, everything he’s ever wanted to say is lodged in his throat, a jumble of letters and words so squished out of order that they no longer hold meaning. He doesn’t love her, not anymore, but his body reacts before his brain can stop it, a conditioned response.

“Can we talk about it soon? Maybe over coffee?” Blue eyes blinking up at him earnestly.

“There’s nothing to talk about, Breeze,” Eren rolls his eyes, swallowing thick around the knot in his throat.

“There is,” she insists, “I brought this amazing espresso blend back with me from Florence, and–”

“If I say yes, will you leave me alone for tonight?” Eren can feel the exasperation in his tone, can feel the weight of his mistake weighing on his shoulders. It’s fine, he tells himself, he’ll make up some excuse and get out of it. A long conversation with Breeze about their breakup is the last thing he needs.

“Maybe,” Breeze tucks her lip in between her teeth, a little smile playing at the corner of her mouth, “unless you change your mind.”

“We can talk or whatever another time, but I’m going back to my friends, okay? Go find yours.”

“You’re my friend,” Breeze purrs, one hand stroking over Eren’s bicep, “and I haven’ seen you int–”

“Don’t push it,” Eren nearly growls, scowling down at her. He knows half of the hatred buzzing through his veins is reserved for himself, but he’ll unpack that at home with a blunt, not in the middle of the club with you waiting for him on the dance floor and Breeze staring up at him hungrily.

“Always wound so tight,” Breeze hums, reaching a hand up to squish his cheeks, “but fine. I’ll see you soon.”

She miraculously leaves him there with nothing but a wink, taking your vodka soda with her; Eren’s shoulders slump in relief. Knowing Breeze, it was a wonder she hadn’t tackled him right there. When he turns around for the second time, two drinks in hand, you’re already staring at him. Shit.

You don’t look mad– and why would you be? You’re friends, Eren reminds himself. There’s no reason for you to know who Breeze is; he’s never told you about her, and he never planned on doing so. Eren knows Historia, though, well enough to believe that she told you everything from the godforsaken moment he walked into your apartment that day.

He doesn’t like that look you’ve got, though; again, not mad, but he can see the gears turning behind your eyes. Eren has to practically force himself to walk towards you. Your head’s cocked in confusion, something watery and hesitant glimmering in your eyes through the low lighting. If he didn’t know better, he’d say you almost look hurt, but that wouldn’t be fair, would it? You didn’t want him, you had made that abundantly clear.

“Sorry it took me a while. Long line.” Eren hands you your drink, nearly wincing at how naturally the clearly false statement rolls off his tongue.

“Mhm,” you nod, downing nearly half of your drink in one long slurp. Your movements aren’t fluid and dynamic anymore; you’re stiff as a board, bouncing back and forth on the balls of your feet along to the beat of the song. “I…I actually have to pee, do you mind holding this?”

“Now?” Eren blinks, confused. “I just got your drink.”

You offer him a tight smile. “I wanted to wait ‘til you were back, so you could watch my drink. And so you didn’t think I ran off on you or something.”

“Oh, yeah, go ahead.”

He watches you slink away into the crowd, watches the dozens of eyes follow you, surely wondering what happened to the little firecracker in the middle of the dance floor. Eren knows you get like this sometimes, suddenly pensive and nostalgic, knows that per your own admission, you like to handle it yourself. He hadn’t done this to you, had he?

A firm pinch to his cheek distracts him, pulls him down a foot below his normal standing height. Could everyone just stop pinching his fucking face? “Shit, ow!”

“Was that Breeze?” Historia yells directly into his ear. Eren, six-foot-something of hell on wheels, blushes furiously.

“Dude, was that fucking Breeze, or am I too fucked up?” Connie echoes Historia’s sentiment from over her shoulder, eyes comically wide. Armin’s peering around him, eyes flitting back and forth between Eren, Connie, and Historia as he tries to understand what’s happened.

“Who cares?” Eren snaps at Connie. Historia’s grip on his face loosens, releases entirely. If Eren didn’t like the look that you had given him, he hates the look Historia’s shooting at him right now. All daggers and disappointment. She turns on her heel without another word, making a beeline for the bathroom and dragging Sasha along behind her. Eren doesn’t miss Armin’s eyes either; stripping him to the bone without saying a word.

“Quit looking at me like that,” Eren scoffs, waves a hand in Armin’s direction.

“When did Breeze get back into town?” Armin shouts over the music.

“A few weeks ago,” Eren admits, avoiding Armin’s eyes and looking for a spot at the bar where he can escape the heavy gazes of his friends, run away to drown this conversation in a shot of whiskey.

“Did you–”

“I don’t know, man, you know how she is. She just showed up.” Eren knows he’s being unnecessarily gruff, but in his defense, the last hour or so has been a whirlwind of memory and emotion and lust that he doesn’t have the capacity to deal with.

Armin nods simply, takes a sip of his beer. Eren’s known Armin since they were kids, and he knows Armin can read him like a book. If he had a little less pride, Eren would pull Armin to the side and ask if he can make any sense of what’s going through Eren’s head right now because Eren sure as hell can’t. There’s you, with your skimpy dress and your flirty eyes, grinding on him like you’re going to take him home and fuck him stupid again, like you hadn’t demanded an honest-to-god friendship that Eren happens to very much enjoy. On the other hand, there’s Breeze, flighty and just as much of a ghost as she is a real person, popping back into his life and batting her blue eyes at him like she’d never left.

You’re his friend, and Breeze is his terrible ex. There shouldn’t be a choice here– there isn’t, it’s just the way things are, but Eren feels stuck at a crossroads for some reason.

He finally gets fed up with the music and the bumping of bodies around him and storms off to the bar again, biting back the urge to snap at Connie and Armin who he knows are hot on his heels. Eren’s just looked up from the shot of whiskey burning its way down his throat, acknowledging the dizziness that’s come with his drinks for the night, when he spots you.

You don’t look angry, that’s a small mercy you unwittingly grant him, but you’re cowering. Historia, even being shorter than you, is practically pinning you to the wall outside of the bathroom, shouting at you with her finger in your face. Sasha doesn’t look all too pleased either, arms crossed and a deep scowl written into her features. Eren gets a glimpse of your phone in Historia’s other hand that she’s waving around erratically, and wonders what the hell happens in women’s bathrooms. He’s not exactly sure what prompts it, but he checks his own phone. Nothing.

“Are they fighting?” Connie asks, nose scrunched as he peeks around Eren’s arm.

“Looks like it,” Armin nods, wincing as you try to make a grab for your phone from Historia, resulting in Sasha saving you at the last second from face-planting as Historia holds it out of your reach.

“Should we, like, do something?”

“Absolutely not,” Armin and Eren echo each other, looking at Connie as if he’d just suggested they all walk into oncoming traffic.

Eren watches as Historia grabs you by the wrist and drags you out of the bar, your feeble protests doing nothing to stop her insistent steps. Sasha follows both of you, gently pushing you along by the small of your back and shooting a regretful glance at Connie, mouthing a sorry as you all make your exit. It’s hardly been five minutes before Eren’s phone buzzes.

> had to leave. do you mind paying our tab if i venmo you? it’s under reiss.

Eren bites the inside of his cheek again, not worrying in the slightest about covering the tab, but more so the reason for your abrupt exit.

> yeah i got u everything ok?

> thanks a ton! see u next time.

It’s purposefully avoidant, especially coming from Historia, who never misses a chance to make fun of you good-naturedly. If you had been sick in the bathroom or far too drunk to stay, she would have come out and said it. Eren throws his card down, going to pay the hefty tab you and your friends racked up, but not daring to pay his own. After all of the shit that’s just gone down, he owes himself at least one more drink.

Once he’s signed, he pulls out his phone again, thumb hovering over your text thread, then Breeze’s, then yours again. Mindful of Armin’s prying eye over his shoulder, Eren sighs heftily and shuts his phone off, leaning in to order another shot. The following morning’s approaching quickly, whether he wants it to or not, and he’ll save his fucked-up emotions for the daylight.

#enjoyyyyy #sorry about no smut again but like #we have to get through some PLOT okay #also don't drink and text/call is the lesson from this chapter #trust me it'll make sense #eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren jaeger series #aot x reader #eren jaeger fanfic #much ado about nothing #much ado universe

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according2thelore · 11 months

Text

The best part about being Dean Winchester is that Sam Winchester needs him. The worst part about being Dean Winchester is that Sam needs him.

The best part happens when Sammy takes his first tottering steps towards Dean. It happens when the first word out of his mouth, when Dad is sloppy drunk on the couch watching a football game that Dad can’t count the points for, is a frantic and excited “Dee-n” as he stacks the pile of blocks correctly on rough, scratchy motel carpet.

The best part happens when Sammy scrapes his knee at a soccer game and runs straight to Dean—not Dad—and he see the look in Dad’s eye as Dean wipes the tears from his ruddy cheeks. Dean’s the one that Sam wants, he’s the most important one here. His is the neck that Sam’ll wail into, until Dad pries him away.

Sam needs Dean to teach him how to throw a punch in a dirt-lot in Mobile, Sam needs Dean to reset his dislocated shoulders, he needs him to buy ice cream and save up to buy him toy trucks and pack his lunches so Sam can have food that he likes in schools that he doesn’t. He needs Dean to curl into to fall asleep until Dad suddenly decides that that’s pussy-shit and drag a scream-sobbing Sam away to his own bed.

He needs Dean to tie his shoelaces and cuff his jeans and press a kiss to his forehead. He needs Dean’s old clothing, needs Dean to take him to soccer practice and clap louder than any parent at every single school play, whistling so loud that a few people duck. He needs Dean to embarrass him in front of girlfriends, needs Dean to lend him sweatshirts that Sam can fall asleep with his nose tucked into, eyes sliding closed contented and sun-warm in the Impala’s passenger seat. When Sam’s scared, he goes to Dean first. When Sam’s upset, he goes to Dean first. When Sam’s happy, over the heads of people in school cafeterias and in hallways and sprinting at him across graveyards, he turns to Dean first. In the middle of a hunt—and Dean has no idea if Sam knows he does it—Sam goes Dean, Dean, Dean under his breath when things start to turn south, like Sam can summon him, like the idea of Dean can keep monsters away.

Sam needs Dean because in the winter, his nose starts to get cold first, since it slopes down and away from his face. He liked tucking it under Dean’s jaw when they shared a bed as children, and currently likes shoving his icicle feet under Dean’s thigh when they sit on couches together. He calls Dean a human furnace, but Dean’s secret is he has regularly proportioned limbs. Sam’s too damn big to give circulation to his freak feet, so Dean keeps “finding” pairs of woolen socks that he slips into Sam’s laundry when he’s not looking.

Sam needs Dean for his Blockbuster card (good in all fifty states, fuck yeah) registered under John McClane that the acne-ridden counter guy issued Dean with a raised brow. Sam likes M&Ms in his popcorn because he’s clinically insane, and Dean buys them liter bottles of pop that they can trade lazily back and forth because they can’t afford more than one individual bottle.

Sam needs Dean to take him out when they get to wherever they go next. Sam likes going to the movies and hates hiking and loves public libraries. He leans into Dean, no matter how old he gets, in the darkness of a movie theater, presses his foot against Dean’s under the table at diners, lets Dean throw his arm around him while Dean chats up girls at a public pool, like he’s afraid if Dean’s not touching him, either of them might snap out of existence.

Who else will adore this kid like he does? No one. No one could.

The worst part about being Dean Winchester is that Sam needs him.

The worst part happens when Dean uses his body as a shield to protect Dad or Sam or both from barely restrained blows. It happens when Dean lets Sam rant and rave, when Dean talks Sam off a ledge, steps outside to talk Dad from pushing Sam off a ledge, lets him spit venom about Sam right back. The worst part is being the depository for their hatred and their tempers and their love.

The betrayal in Sam’s eyes when Dean tries to calm him down guts him. The anger in Dad’s eyes when Dean tells him Sam means well is a blow to the skull.

Loyalty to either is a betrayal to both and Dean is sixteen.

Dean is sixteen and he’s got pimples and his bones hurt and Dad won’t stop screaming. Dean is sixteen and Sam won’t look at him most days for choosing Dad, as if Dean is physically capable of choosing anything other than the boy that planted his roots in Dean’s bones instead, when Dean had to prune them from Sacramento and Knoxville and Tampa.

Sam needs him.

Sam needs him to be in the middle because they need a father.

The worst part is when Sam needs twelve dollars to go on this field trip to the museum that he’s been looking forward to because they’ve been in town long enough to look forward to something. Dean has just spent his last cents at a bar the night before because he’s sixteen and he’s scared, and he’s lonely because Cindy at the bar last night was the first not-Sam person Dean had spent longer than two sentences with in three weeks and four days. The worst part is that look in his eyes, and Dean smiles and plays along to the dumb-drunk-older-brother thing, because if Dean says that he spent the money because he’s miserable and dependent and scared, Sam will—Sam—Dean doesn’t know what Sam’ll do. Dean has never let Sam be that uncertain yet.

The worst part is having nightmares into his pillow, burying his grief and his tears in the motel sink at four a.m. because Sammy is sleeping in the other bed.

The worst part is being fourteen and Dad hasn’t been back in a few weeks and the twenty bucks on the table evaporated a few days ago.

The worst part is being fourteen.

The worst part is having to make a shelter out of his ribcage, out of slow smirks and lit cigarettes drooping from drunk men’s fingers, of sweaty, crumpled bills passing over a long-haul truck’s driver’s seat. The worst part trading those bills for Slim Jims and Kraft mac and cheese and marshmallow creme to make it seem like more food than it is, the look that the till girl gives him when she sees phone numbers written over Lincoln’s face.

The worst part is being seventeen, and something’s got to give, so Dad looks at Dean. Dean’s going to give—of course Dean is going to give, because it can’t be Sam. Sam loves school, needs it—needs other people in a way Dean has trained himself not to want. So Dean drops out of high school in senior year, so Dad’ll stop picking fights with Sam about needing a hunting partner, so why doesn’t Sam just stop going to school?

Dean thinks the worst thing he thought about Dad to that point while he avoids eye contact with the guidance counsellor when he tells him the news. I want to drop out, Dean says, because he has to end it for Sam. What does school have for him anyway? Kids that’ll never understand him? A GED that he’ll never need? Dean hates feeling stupid, hates kids laughing at him behind his back because he had to move when they learned how to do times tables and he doesn’t know what seven times nine is. He hates the prickle of inferiority.

But Dean thinks: I am the one you created to love you. He is the one you created to hate you. You need both of us. But you only care about one. You crave the challenge of winning—even love, even your son. I never won your approval, so what was it worth?

Dean banishes it as soon as he thinks it, goddamn horrified. That’s awful. It’s ridiculous. It’s pussy shit, is what it is. Dad’s right. Dad’s good. (Dad is right. Dad has to be right, has to be infallible, because in twelve years after Dean has left his eighth teary voicemail to a dead phone line after Sammy starts throwing up after his visions, after he stops eating because he sleeps in blood now it drips from his fingers, he will start to realize and it will undo him—What has it been for? If Dad’s not right—If Dad’s not good—then what is Dean? What has Dean torn up Sam’s roots for? What has Dean lost girlfriends and childhood memories and prom and almost lost limbs for? Dean has ripped himself apart and put himself back together so John Winchester can be right. If he’s not right, then Dean is misshapen for nothing.)

The worst part is being nineteen.

The worst part is the fact that Sam hates him anyway. That Sam rages against the bars of Dean’s ribcage because it might keep the rain off but God, who would want to be trapped next to this heart?

It bangs and slams all hours of the day, and it’s so goddamn hollow—even worse, it’s not hollow at all, it’s just SamSamSamSam—it’s just Sam’s long limbs and fox-slanted eyes and the mole to the left of his nose and the way he snorts when he’s trying not to laugh and the way his mouth looks after he gnaws on it and the way he tries to lick ice cream off his own nose, the way his face looks slack in sleep, the way he’s moulded himself to fit Dean a little, too.

His heart is sickening. It’s rotting, it’s metastasizing the air that Sam needs to breathe.

The best part about being Dean Winchester is that Sam Winchester needs him. The worst part about being Dean Winchester is that Sam needs him. And Dean’s not enough.

The very worst part though, the part that makes Dean eye his pistol sidelong as Sam’s back gets smaller and smaller as he walks away with his duffle bag over his shoulder and he knows—he knows, that at the end of this, Sam will never turn back, it will be Dean on his hands and knees, begging Sammy to come back, Sam will never look at him again if he’s given the chance to look away—

The very worst part about being Dean Winchester, is that Dean needs Sam more than Sam will ever need him.

crossposted on ao3 here

#supernatural #dean winchester #sam winchester #samdean #fanfic #codependency #lizzy writes

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iveseenstrangerthings · 10 months

Text

coming back to you - steve harrington imagine

summary: an exes to lovers imagine in where Steve broke up with the reader over his own worries and has left the reader heartbroken and confused, but of course, where there’s a will, there’s a way...

word count: 2.6k

warnings: just a couple of swears

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Summer was slowly drawing to a close, much to your despair, and the group was ready to disband for the evening. As the countdown for back to school begins, your evenings end quicker as people head home to prepare for the school rush starting again.

You watch as Max and Dustin fold away the camping chairs you’ve all been sitting on, “God this is depressing.” You sigh heavily, willing the night to etch out just that little while longer.

“Please don’t even mention what I think you’re going to, or I will swing you in that pool.” Lucas chips in, getting the hint that school may be snaking its way into the conversation. In defence, you hold your hands up and start to slowly get up from the camping chair, pulling the blanket from your legs and folding it up neatly.

In this moment, you reflect on the summer you’ve had. It’s not been a great one. At the beginning of the summer, yours and Steve’s relationship crumbled away from underneath you so fast you felt you were falling fast towards a hole that you couldn’t recover from. In short, the Steve you knew at the beginning of the summer was not the Steve you had spent the last year and a half with. He was distant, he was cold, he wasn’t willing to make plans and, in all honesty, you weren’t actually shocked when he asked to call it quits. You’d assumed there was someone else, as is usually the case, so you completely cut ties with each other.

Much to the group’s surprise, the pair of you kept coming to the group gatherings, and slowly over the summer started to show signs of your friendship thawing out from the hard layer of ice that had covered it at the start of summer.

It started off as him offering you a lift home, with others, in the car. Then, as the curtain has started to go down on summer, he’s asking you if you want a lift on your own. He’s offering you drinks when you’re all out and he even bought you a meal at the diner last week.

Now, as the group shuffles around quietly packing the chairs and blankets away, you catch his eyes over the dying fire. Quickly, as if embarrassed to be seen, he averts his gaze to the bag he’s covering the folded chair with. You sling the chair over your shoulder and move to the shed in Mike’s yard to put it away, but you feel a soft graze of skin move over your knuckles and you turn around. Behind you, Steve’s waiting. “Need a hand?” He offers.

You shake your head, offering a small smile at the gesture, “Thanks, but I got it.”

Once tidied away, everyone moves around the side of the house to start making their way home and you all wave each other off and give each other a chorus of goodbyes as you split off into different directions. Mike and El slope off back to the house, Mike’s arm draped over El’s shoulders, and you turn away to start walking with a small smile. A hint of jealousy at the pair sitting in your gut, although you hate to admit it.

Just as you start walking, you hear a voice call out from a few feet behind you. “Hey, (y/n)?” You stop and turn ever so slightly, Steve is walking slowly, his hands in his pockets, towards you, “Can I walk you home?”

For a minute you ponder the question. You battle between letting him walk you home and allowing yourself to feel a, probably false, sense of hope for the pair of you rekindling. Or you could just shut him out completely and try your best to keep moving forward.

He waits patiently, his whole demeanour and attitude completely different to that of the one he wore seven weeks ago. Maybe, just maybe, this could be the opportunity you’ve been craving to talk to him, one on one, about his actions and decisions. So, you reply, “Sure, I’d like the company.”

Now that he’s had permission, he closes the gap between the pair of you and starts to walk with you away from Mike’s.

For the first few minutes, it’s quiet. The only sounds those of your shoes on the sidewalk and the gentle breeze shaking the last of the luscious summer leaves on the trees. How you’ll miss the gorgeous colours once the season changes.

Just as you’re getting used to the silence, Steve speaks. “Summer’s gone by quick this year, huh?”

You nod quietly back, “Sure has.”

For a moment, you regret allowing him to walk you home. If this is what your walk is going to consist of, awkward small talk and silences, you’d rather have walked alone. A flit of anger surges through you like an electric shock and you shudder almost at its imaginary presence. The urge has almost willed you on to start up a new conversation with Steve.

“What happened with us, Steve?” Your voice is small but firm, you want to have this conversation now and you want some answers. His silence has been overbearing for too long now. “Was there someone else? Is there someone else?”

He ponders a moment, watching as the sun dips off even further into the horizon, “No. There never has been anyone else.” He matches your firmness, and you hope he hasn’t taken your question for hostility, when all you want is clarity.

“So, what was it then?” You reply.

Again, he waits a moment before replying and you begin to think he’s doing it for dramatic effect, “I just look at you and see so much potential. I mean academic and personal potential. (y/n), you’re gonna go on to do amazing things, change the world and what not,” he pauses, and you briefly look towards him, smiling at the joke you used to share, “I want you to get out of Hawkins. I want you to explore the world and all the opportunities that I know are out there waiting for you.” You frown, trying to work out what any of this has to do with the pair of you splitting up. He continues, “But me,” he stops, but this time not for dramatic effect, you can hear the emotion that’s become thick within his voice, “I don’t feel I have that same future. I mean, what have I got? Shit grades, I sling fuckin’ ice cream on the side and my parents are assholes who don’t want to support anything I do.”

Gradually, the pace the pair of you are walking has slowed right down to almost a gentle stroll, as you would in a museum, taking the time to admire all the artwork in a slow rotation. “Steve, what job you have now doesn’t define what you’re gonna do for the rest of your life.”

“No, you don’t get my point. We have one year left of high school, then it’s college.” You really don’t know where this is going, but you listen on intently, “I know you changed your option for college last minute, your mom told me.” You drop your gaze now to your shoes, ashamed.

Admittedly, you had applied to go away for college, you wanted to move away and see more of the country you call home. Plus, with everything that’s happened in Hawkins recently, you can’t see Hawkins actually being here, at all, in the next few years. However, the closer you got to Steve and the more your relationship developed, the more you didn’t want to leave him. So, you changed your college application to a local one, without his knowledge. It was for this reason that you didn’t want to tell him until closer to the time.

“You changed your admission application for me. I know you did.” His voice shakes now as he continues, “and I cannot let you do that. I cannot let myself hold you back from the amazing things I know you’re capable of achieving. That’s when I started to think, I’m just going to hold you back. I’m just going to be a burden for you, I’ll be one of those boyfriends who their girlfriend’s friends complain about. I just felt I couldn’t sit back and let you change your options just for me. I’m not worth it. I just got angry at myself, and angry that you kept your college change from me, so I snapped and ended it.”

Holy shit. Never in the years of knowing Steve have you ever had such a true and vulnerable conversation with him. Never has he spoken to truthfully and openly about his feelings. This has only reignited the kindling flame of your love for him that had never really died out. “Steve, why didn’t you ever tell me any of this?” Your voice comes out exasperated, tired.

He simply shrugs and offers no verbal answer. You take a minute to piece together your reply, you want to organise your words carefully, not haphazardly. “I couldn’t care less about what you do now, whether it’s selling ice cream or what, Steve, for our age, a job is a job. But you have prospects too, I know you do. You can sit there all you like and say your grades are shit and that your parents are assholes, but I know that you have goals, and that you have dreams, that are just as bold, and achievable, as mine.”

The pace of your walking has now pretty much come to a complete stop, so you turn to face him side on, his side profile just as striking as you remember admiring months ago. “Steve.” You say softly, taking his hand in yours. Eventually, he turns to face you and his eyes are glossy, glass like. Blood soars in your ears as it drowns out any other noise that is in the vicinity. It feels like it’s just the two of you left in the world, nobody else matters. “I want to achieve them with you. I want to do all those things we talked about with you. I want to make you see that your future is not already written for you. Seriously Steve, you have it all ahead of you to look forward to. And I want to experience all of life’s ups and downs with you, not on my own, not with anyone else. You need someone to show you how much of an amazing person you are, because hell you don’t get it from anyone else.” You know that was a low blow, a dig at his parents, but it needed to be said.

“I can’t let you change your life just for me, though.” He says quietly.

“And I wouldn’t. We would take things on together, if it meant going long-distance for a few years then figuring out our plans after that, then so be it, we would get through it Steve.” You don’t know whether you’re just coming across as that you’re begging, and you don’t want to seem needy, but the floodgates are open, and the forces are too strong to shut them anytime soon.

With your hand still in his, he brings his other hand up to your cheek, brushing his fingertips over your skin delicately. Just like he used to. You watch as his eyes search your own, his pupils dilating slightly, causing an eruption of butterflies to set off in your stomach. The seconds pass nonchalantly, enjoyably, as you take the time to gaze and search each other’s features for the first time in months, taking in every detail and every crevice that you missed.

You hadn’t realised, but tears had started to spill over onto his cheeks. You absentmindedly bring your thumb up to wipe them away. As you do this, your own vision goes cloudy and you know in a second, there will be tears of your own decorating your face. “I have missed you so much.” He admits, now letting your other hand go and bringing it to the side of your face. “I have thought about you day and night, just trying to figure it all out. But I realised that I’d made a huge mistake, letting you go.” His thumb continues to gently trace your cheeks, carefully wiping away each falling tear.

“I never, ever thought of you as being a burden, Steve. Never. I hate that you felt like that, and you didn’t just tell me. We wouldn’t have had to go through this.” A small, short sob escapes your lips and the corners of your mouth turn down slightly.

“I know, I know.” He says softly, almost inaudibly. It’s evident he’s spent the last few months beating himself up, going over the decision, thinking about it all and quite simply catastrophising everything when he really didn’t need to. Inch by inch throughout the conversation, your faces have moved closer. “Everything I’ve said, I feel so deeply, and I worry that it’s true, but selfishly I just want you back.”

Steadily, your tears stem and you nod, feeling his secure grip on your cheeks, “I do too. I’ve never wanted anything more.”

Before either of you realise, you close the small gap between the pair of you with your lips. A salty taste enters your mouth as you realise tears are staining your lips, whose tears they are you don’t know, but it seems irrelevant now anyway. Like you’d never been apart, your lips find their natural rhythm you shared so enjoyably, and you bask in this moment. Feeling his hands on your face pull you even closer, you place your hand on his wrist and the other slips in between his jacket, leaving your hand resting on his side. As you pull away, you finally see the smile you fell in love with adorn his face, causing your own to bloom widely.

“Can we try again? Can we go conquer the world together?” He laughs slightly as he speaks and your heart is thundering in your chest, all in happiness, though.

Your smile still paints your face, and you bring your lips up to meet his once more, quickly. “I would want nothing more.”

Still standing close to one other, he tucks a piece of hair behind your ear before bringing his fingers back down, tracing the side of your jaw with his fingertips before finally resting his thumb on your chin where he slightly drags your bottom lip down as he does so. He does this as he knows how it makes you feel, he knows you’ll feel the heat rising within you as he does so. After parting your lips, he comes back down and kisses you with pent up passion and just pure longing. If you were in a movie, you just know fireworks would explode behind you and the credits would start to roll in, the feeling of a happy ending leaving everyone teary eyed and satisfied.

Eventually, you both pull away and start to resume the pace of walking side-by-side, this time with each other’s hand resting comfortably within one another’s grip. “Would you stay with me tonight?” He asks into the now night air, the sun having long gone down.

You give his hand a small squeeze, thinking he’d never ask. But also, grateful for the question, as you really felt you’d never hear the words again. “Of course I will.”

And so, the pair of you wander aimlessly back to Steve’s, in no rush whatsoever, catching up with each other and sharing each other’s lows over the last few months of being apart. Deep down, Steve knows that the pair of you will work. He knows that you’ll change your college application, you’ll do long distance and make it work. He’s also decided that he’s going to investigate college now, too. He’s going to look into his options and do his very best to prove himself, and his worries, wrong, knowing he will have you there every step of the way.

#masterlist #stranger things prompts #stranger things imagine #stranger things blurbs #stranger things preferences #stranger things imagines #steve harrington angst #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fluff #steve Harrington imagine #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington prompt #steve harrington fic #steve harrington comfort #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington drabble

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fuedalreesespieces · 3 months

Text

the martial arts of a kiss

or: if ranma and akane had kissed during the ice skating arc.

He wasn’t sure why he’d even asked.

Akane stared at him with an expression he couldn’t quite place, and that was startling on its own. Usually he could identify her emotions with ease; she never made any effort to hide them. The only thing he recognized was embarrassment blooming in her cheeks, spreading an even, rosy blush over her fair skin. Her shoulders rose up like mountain slopes, and the blush grew down there, too, scattering over her collarbone and neck.

If...if you don’t mind...then I don’t.

A shallow wind blew through the dojo. He wished he hadn’t said anything – the sudden silence bulged between them like someone shoving an extra crayon in a too-filled box. They’d been bickering like usual earlier, but it had only taken a single moment of stupidity to dismantle the casual, if not heightened, mood. He supposed it was his fault for even bringing up kisses in the first place, for daring to goad Akane – Akane, who’d shouted back as though kissing were a feat she refused to fail at: go ahead and try it!

She kneeled in front of him now, eyes pinned on her skirt. The air was stiffening, nearly uncomfortable, and he searched for something to say. He grappled for a moronic insult that would dissolve the ice between them, and though those were always in reach, this time he had nothing to say. He hated to feel speechless, but she did that to him - only sometimes, he insisted.

Akane made the first move. Her voice was quiet. “I...I don’t mind.” She added, reaching up to tug on one of her side-bangs, only to remember they were gone. Her hand drifted delicately to the cusp of her knee, “...if you don’t mind.”

The distance between them shrunk to nothing with those words. He could make out every detail on her face, the exact pattern of her blush and the petite scrunch of her mouth, like she’d eaten something sour. Her eyes were wide as pots, filled with a stew of emotions he wished he could pick out. “Close your eyes.”

He blinked owlishly. “Me?”

“Yes, you,” she huffed. “If you can’t do it, then I will!”

“I can!”

“I’ll be as old as my dad by the time you get the guts!”

“Oh, you-” He grit his teeth and placed either hand on her cheeks, pulling her closer than ever before. It was a brazen, idiotic move. He was sure she’d conk him on the head for this display, but instead, her left hand came to gently drape over his. Her skin was the color of a tomato – he would have told her if his own face was much better. Their mutual touch seemed to steam, like red-hot coals pressed together under a grill.

He’d hoped to see the kiss coming, at first. His previous (and only kiss) had felt like a swift, unexpected attack, and to close his eyes after that was to give up his semblance of control. But this was Akane – he trusted her. He would know her in the dark, and he would know her by her rugged palms skirting over his skin, and most importantly: he wanted this. He wanted to feel her kiss. Just admitting it in his head made him senseless, and part of him wanted to run, maybe lift some weights, anything to settle the erratic energy him from within, but Akane’s presence kept him in place.

So he closed his eyes. Swathed in darkness, the touch of her lips against his felt like a thousand colors bursting under his eyelids. She was...warm, and her lips tasted like sweat from her training, and she was clumsy. He almost forgot, what with her confidence, that this could very well be her first kiss, because after their mouths met she seemed to forget where to place her hands. Ranma laughed against her lips.

Akane tilted her head and the kiss found its balance. His fingers trailed down her shoulders, tapping at her collarbone. Her hands played with the stray, unruly strands of his hair, and the touch of her made him ache. It was both the pain and exhilaration of a night run, the awe and excitement of watching firecrackers explode in front of you. He could combust any minute with how tentative she was being.

She drew away from him, breathless. There was ire in her eyes, though her lips were hiding a questionable smile. “You’re terrible at this.”

“Me?” he scowled, but there was no heat to it. “You’re the one who can’t kiss.”

Furious, she grabbed him by the shirt collar and reeled him in. This kiss felt more like a crash, a loving punch on the mouth, and when she felt her breath run tight, he would pull her back in for a second, and a third. It didn’t calm him in the slightest. He remembered how as a child he would sometimes take lit matches and squeeze the fire dead with his fingers the way his father used to. The sensation of flame against his skin was momentary, a hiss of pain that tore through him, made his heart squeeze, then faded. This felt like that, except the cycle was never-ending. The heat of each kiss was exquisite, and he wanted the moment to go on forever, to feel the same excess of uncontrollable, delighted energy, like somehow all their fights were being channeled into one momentous, if bumbling, exchange.

Ranma Saotome didn't bumble at anything. But this felt right, like the sort of kiss only they could share and no one else. Not a spectacle nor a sport.

“Ranma, Akane!” Kasumi’s light voice danced through the hall. Their lips might as well have ripped from each other. “Dinner’s ready!”

Her shadow lingered outside the dojo screen. Akane came to her senses first and shouted, voice all throaty, “We’re coming!”

“Y-yeah! Just practicing!” he added. Goddamn that stammer.

They watched as Kasumi’s shadow disappeared. Akane pinched him on the nose. “Hey!”

“’Just practicing?’ What kind of excuse was that?”

“What kind’a excuse? It ain't no excuse. You do need practice.” He gave her a crooked grin. “I’ll help ya out.”

Her face turned red again. “You....” Her fingers clenched into a fist. “Big words from a guy who couldn’t even get the guts to kiss me first! You were shaking like a wet duck!”

“What?”

“But don’t worry, Ranma,” she assured, using her hands to lift his jaw close. In a poor imitation of his voice, she crooned, “I’ll help ya out.”

He groaned, his face leaning on her shoulder, as Akane’s laughs echoed in the empty dojo.

#formally apologize for this #this is the silliest thing i've ever written I blame writer's block #still making my way through the manga but this particular scene ended me #ranma ½ #ranma 1/2 #ranma saotome #akane tendo #rankane #rankane fanfiction #ranma x akane

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love-kurdt · 28 days

Text

Swooping, Sloping, Cursive Letters: 18

word count: 503

PLEASE READ THIS IS ME TRYING FIRST, AS THIS STORY RELIES HEAVILY UPON THE CONTEXT OF TIMT

February 14, 1989

Dear Will,

I hate Valentine’s Day with a burning passion. You know this already. It’s a day where people profess their love for each other in the cheesiest, most materialistic ways and it makes me want to vomit. And it’s not just that; it’s the fact that people like me aren’t able to do those same things… at least, not in public. But that’s the whole point of Valentine’s Day– declaring your love for someone, and everyone else knows about it.

But the worst part about this particular Valentine’s Day was that you got valentines from so many girls. It was like they were vultures circling overhead, waiting for their chance to swoop in and get their chance with William Jacob Byers, the insanely attractive, sweet, talented artist with a smile that contains the light of a thousand suns. I mean, I don’t blame them, because if I were a girl, I would be… I’m not even gonna try and finish that sentence. I know for a fact that even if I were a girl, I wouldn’t have a shot with you. You turned down all the real ones, so why would I be any different?

Anyway, the plot thickens: during lunch, some girl came up to us looking all shy and asking to speak with you in private. The way she smiled at you reminded me of a bloodthirsty shark, or maybe a rabid saber tooth lion. You looked at me, almost as if you were afraid to be alone with her. I would be too, if I’m being completely honest with you. I told her that you were busy going over our math homework that was due next period (we didn’t even have it out at that point, but whatever). She scoffed at me before proceeding to ask you if you wanted to go and get ice cream “or something” after school, “like, a date.” I think she and I both held our breath while awaiting your response.

By some miracle, you told her you were flattered, but you weren’t interested; you had plans with me this afternoon. Which wasn’t technically true, since we hadn’t made any plans that were set in stone, but I backed you up and helped let her down… well, not so slowly. More like tossing her off a cliff at the speed of light. But still. She thanked you anyway and walked off, probably to go cry in the girls’ bathroom or some shit. You glanced in my direction to thank me, and I asked if you were serious about having plans with me later. You shrugged and said, “Well, I’m down if you are.” I was down, alright. So unbelievably down, you have no idea. Spending Valentine’s Day with you is an opportunity I would never pass up, platonic or otherwise. And now it’s just a matter of time until you come over. I have a Star Wars marathon and all your favorite snacks ready to go. I can’t wait.

Love,

Mike

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homepage

#byler #byler fanfic #byler fic #byler tumblr #mike wheeler #will byers #will x mike #mike x will #stranger things #stranger things fic

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viviennelamb · 8 days

Text

I won't publish your message like you asked, but I'm wary of everybody who has sex for that reason. It's just too risky to get involved with them. At first, it's just about getting an orgasm, but once they're unable to get orgasms, they move onto increasingly depraved scenarios.

It always eventually escalates into sodomy, pedophilia and animal abuse, which is the point Andrea Dworkin reached as documented in her books. Everybody who advocates for Dworkin is a pedophile and is at the point of Satan Consciousness, which I talk about in depth in OTE.

This website, as well as every other one, and the world is teeming with pedophiles. Don't listen to people who say “the internet isn't real life,” it is if the same people in real life are using the internet. I used to make excuses for people and say, “well this person seems okay,” you're wasting your time with them because they will always turn against you because they hate innocence and are envious of it.

This slippery slope is very subdued, so it's common for people to say they're anti-abuse in the midst of advocating for it. You cannot communicate with these individuals, they're zombies who are only capable of peddling sex doctrine. They try to prove that they're intelligent, but they can't see that there's not enough research and reading in the world they can do to reverse their destroyed minds.

Feminists have never said they were against pedophilia, rape and abuse, they are looking for equality with men. You could say they're wrong for that, but protecting innocence has never ever been their focus, and joining their movement to demand of such made you the intruder. Sorry you had to find out the hard way. They only want the same “rights,” money and orgasms as men because they're men as well. The baseline of every single form of activism that exists is to create better conditions to have better sex.

This is the typical list of feminist philosophy:

This is all they care about.

Everything they're pro and anti is to benefit their heterosexuality personally. They want to force xys into finding their grotesqueness attractive. And none of them care about girls being harmed enough to change in their personal lives. I remember listening to a live stream where women were talking about how men were abusing girls, and in the same stream they were referring to how they masturbate. Now imagine if males did that.

I've seen feminists say that pedophile rings aren't real, there is no abuse against children, and that this is Christian propaganda. There was a fake lesbian who came after me for whatever reason and she was into daddy dom/little girl role-play. I knew a het female who said a 5-year-old boy was hot, and she wanted to *do something* to him. I knew a lesbian who said that wanting to be with a child is normal because people are attracted to youth... All of them were open about having sex or masturbating.

When I say find a God-Realized Guru and remain loyal to them, I mean it. Keep your mind as clean as possible, and make it a habit to only think of God. You need to get your mind out of hell and recover so you're mentally equipped to deal with it. The mercy of God allows us to rest as much as we need to.

Anon, I highly advise you stay away from groups/communities unless they are male-free and prioritize purity. You got your lesson and don't turn back on yourself. Nothing good comes out of swathes of sex addicts. Hobbies don't hold people together either, it's a façade to get like-minded people together. Once they break the ice and get to know each other sexual preferences, that's what creates their unbreakable bonds, and that's how these sex abuse rings start. It's a club you'll never be a part of. You're not missing out on anything, regardless of how much they try to convince you that you are. Beauty is exceedingly rare these days, so you have to become it yourself to experience it. Now you know it's not outside of you anymore.

P.S. I'm not reading anything on social media outside my page as a result of what I've said here... there are just far too many advocates for sex abuse. I'm at the point where I just don't want to risk coming across it. I'm drastically limiting social media use as a result.

Not only that, but I don't want to fearmonger, but things are getting more dystopian than ever. The only good news is these individuals are suffering immensely, even if all the laws they create are in their favor. In the Art of War, males make themselves look strong, when they're weak. Don't forget that.

This isn't the time to be compassionate or sympathetic towards anybody who isn't on the right team. Be wary of anybody who advocates for compassion towards males and pedophiles as well as the individuals who claim to be their victims. If they got out, great, but let's see what they do with their lesson. God doesn't make mistakes.

#reply

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yourneighborhoodneighbor · 10 months

Text

super cool ghost ice mega slide

(masterpost to my fics while ao3 is down) AO3

fic under the cut

Having another superpowered person as part of Batclan was great, even if he wasn't technically a meta (I'm dead, Duke, that's more of a medical condition-). Having a portable snow maker year round was even better.

Duke had taken to Danny pretty quickly after the younger teen had been picked up off the street, hurt and borderline delirious, surprisingly not by Bruce, but by Jason. Once he had been cognizant enough to realize in which city he was, and in whose cave, he had had a pretty major freak out, believing himself in danger through a mix of the idea that Batman hated metas and whatever had hurt him so badly in the first place.

After Duke had managed to get out of his stupor at seeing whatever it was the kid had become (and seriously, he had seen some pretty unusual things because of his meta abilities, but a 4k HD 1080p 4D experience of a real life eldritch being was not one of them) he had promptly kicked everyone out of the room in the med area (except for Alfred, whom he very politely asked vacate the room) to try and calm the kid down.

After revealing his own meta status, assuring the glowing kid that Batman didn't actually hate metas, he just wanted to protect his city from mind-controlled superpowered people, and that he was safe from whoever had hurt him, the kid had finally calmed down enough to return to a more human-like appearance.

From then it was really no surprise to anyone that the new kid (who could transform into an actual human, and really? Black hair and blue eyes again?) got promptly adopted and revealed information that got an entire branch of the government taken down by the blazing wings of fury of the entire Batclan (even Damian had quickly become attached to the newest kid once his katana was gushed about with the accuracy and fervor of someone who knows how to wield the weapon).

What had been unexpected was the kid having a connection to the Lazarus Pits (which were apparently something called ectoplasm) and being able to help Jason get rid of what turned out to be a huge amount of toxic gunk from himself, leaving him with only the good gunk (Duke tried not to think too much about it), which made the too dead-but-not-really boys bond quickly.

On top of all that the kid was also an engineering and astronomy nerd (as well as had a knack for math and physics), which appealed him to Tim greatly, and he made puns like would die (again) if he didn't, which appealed him to Dick, and, he preferred communicating with means other than spoken words (usually inhuman sounds and growls), which he bonded over with Cass, and he was actually good a baking, which appealed him to Alfred, and he was also already a vigilante, which appealed him to everyone else-

The point being, everyone loved Danny, including Duke himself, so it was a bit hard to get some to spend with him by himself, which was why Duke was going to make the most of this day.

He wasn't actually alone with the young half-ghost, Cass was also left at home while all the others went about some business or another out of the manor, but Duke knew hanging out with both Danny and Cass was often double the fun since underneath the chill facades both of them were actually feral little shits, so that wasn't an issue.

That brought him back to his first point: having a brother who could make no-melt snow on command was the best!

So now here they were, the three of them standing side by side on top of the tallest point of the manor, facing a slope so steep it was almost 90º degrees at first and then bent and curved all over the yard in ways Duke just knew wouldn't pass a safety inspection, those tiny cheap plastic sleds in hand (“for the full experience,” Danny said, even though they certainly had the money to buy other sleds). Duke was regretting some of his choices, looking down, but now he was committed, no way was he quitting, Danny and Cass would tag team on teasing him for the rest of time.

“Ready?” Danny asked, a too wide smile on his face and eyes open with the kind of crazed excitement only someone who was already dead could have.

Cass answered by putting her sled on the ground and sitting on it, position ready and her face mirroring Danny's.

Duke stood corrected, only people who were already dead, and Cass.

He really was going to regret this, wasn't he. Well, too late to back out now. This is what he got for hanging out with the two most unhinged people in the family, he supposed (and that was saying something, considering the kind of family Duke had).

“Sure, yeah, what's a little sled race down a death slope of doom?” the meta answered with more confidence than he felt. He was the Signal! He could do this! Besides, Cass and Danny wouldn't actually let him break his neck and die, right? Right.

Cass patted his shoulder sympathetically (as if-) as he sat down. Here went nothing.

“Remember, whoever makes it down in the least amount of time wins an ice cream! And no powers! You're up first, Duke!” Danny exclaimed as he pushed Duke forward.

Duke had barely any time to process the fact that he was already in a semi-free fall before he was already approaching the tunnels that made up the bottom half of the “super cool ghost ice mega slide” (patent pending). He remembered he did, in fact, need to breath, filling his lungs to the top and letting the air out in a scream.

The meta boy could do nothing but keep screaming as he reached speeds he was pretty sure went against the laws of physics, making loop-de-loops and turns so steep he thought he was going to slam against the side instead of turning a few times.

After what felt like an eternity but also too little time to have actually completed the Slide of Doom (more accurate name, in Dukes opinion), he finally made it to the end, promptly getting bowled over by a gleeful Cass and cackling Danny, who he hadn't even noticed were right behind him.

“Mmfffhblggggheroff-” Duke grunted, turning over and subsequently throwing off the other two into the surrounding snow. Danny accepted his fate, while Cass sat up and grinned at him.

“And?! Wasn't that fun?!” Cass signed excitedly. Duke was about to say it was terrifying, but cut himself short when he noticed he was smiling.

Huh. That actually had been fun. It had been really, really fun.

“We should do that again,” he breathed out. “We should do that again, but all together! More weight means more speed! We can see how far off the finish we end up!”

He was excited now, he was PUMPED! He grabbed Danny around the waist, carrying him like a sack of potatoes and and running up the ice steps (sibling with ice powers for the win-) back to the roof, Cass behind him with the sleds.

He ignored the ghost boy's protests about being able to walk (“and fly!”), eager to enact his new plan.

Once up there, he dumped his brother and accepted a sled from his sister, sitting down on it.

“Cass, sit on my lap! Danny goes on top because he's a lightweight!” he told the others, receiving a token protest from Danny, who got further teased about his half weight by Cass.

Once they were all settled, Duke got really to start them off by pushing with his legs when Danny yelled out.

“Wait!”

Cass and Duke looked up at him with questioning glances. In response, the boy got up, touched the slide and… Oh-hoho, this was gonna be good.

“There, it's extra smooth and slippery now. We're in for some Cool Running!” Danny said, settling back on top of the pile, grin matching his two siblings'.

“Alright, let's break some legs” Duke muttered, pushing forward with his feet.

And damn-

If Duke thought he was going fast before, they were racing the Flashes now!

All three siblings let out manic laughter, whopping and screaming as they held on to each other for dear life, the forces of the turns threatening to pull them apart.

As they neared the finish, Duke saw a shadow, barely having time to process before he was blinded by the flash of a camera.

They kept going a bit after the finish, the speed they came with not letting them stop, eventually colliding with a pile of snow and finally flying in different directions.

Duke couldn't stop laughing where he had landed, full of adrenaline and absolute mirth. A little ways away, he could hear both his siblings in the same predicament.

After a managing to get himself under control and trying to get his breathing back to normal, he sat up, freezing when he saw the amused audience they suddenly had.

“Umm, guys?” he called out to the other two.

“What?” Danny asked, sitting up as well and freezing as he saw what Duke had seen.

Cass was the last to rise, looking at their audience with as innocent a face as she could manage while clearly a culprit to their exploits.

Bruce simply raised an amused eyebrow, Alfred at his side looking perfectly regal while innocently holding a camera in his hands.

“I see you were having fun on your day off,” he stated, lips threatening to curl into a grin.

The three sibling looked at each other, before Cass reached over and simply offered one of the tiny plastic sleds to the man.

All of them were locked in a staring contest for the next few seconds, before Bruce's face finally broke into a grin and he grabbed the sled.

“Thought you wouldn't ask!” he said, turning and running up the steps, yelling back at them for being slow pokes.

The siblings all grinned at each other before running after the man.

Yeah, having access to unlimited snow was great, but getting to spend time with his family in it? Even better. bonus unrelated snow LBM drawing

#dpxdc #batpham #fanfiction #my fics #yourneighborhoodneighbor

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temozarela · 5 months

Text

-> oh, banana co.

GOJO SATORU X GETO SUGURU referenced self harm, suicide, heavy angst, established relationship, hurt no comfort, unhappy ending

geto is misdiagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia and everything goes downhill from there

WORD COUNT: 5k

ao3 version

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Drip, drip, drip.

Satoru treaded into the bathroom hesitantly, knowing it was the one place he hadn’t looked. As the yellow, artificial ceiling lights flickered on, he paused.

Drip, drip, drip.

Satoru scanned the row of empty cubicles until his watery gaze settled on the last one.

He swallowed, his six eyes immediately picking up on the residuals smeared all over the cubicle walls. Satoru walked towards it slowly, trepidation weighing his feet down like bricks of ice.

Drip, drip, drip.

Step, step, squelch.

At the sound of his shoe landing in liquid, Satoru startled. He hesitated, praying that was just water, or fuck, even Suguru’s piss or diarrhoea would be a best-case scenario. Instead, when his icy stare assessed the puddle beneath him, tears pricked at his eyes like needles. His throat began to burn as if he had swallowed the sun, its core stuck in his oesophagus as he tried to repress the pain which wanted to be puked.

Drip, drip, drip.

The crimson liquid screamed at him from the white tiles, showing the reflection of the man who had failed as a friend, lover, and shaman. The blood on the lower ledge of the cubical had dried, yet it still dripped as more of the metallic liquid leaked onto the other side. Blood. Satoru was filled with dread.

Drip, drip, drip.

Satoru knocked on the door.

“Suguru?” He murmured, his voice cracking despite himself.

No answer.

He pushed at the door, only to find it locked and Satoru cursed.

No, Satoru screamed, his head pressing against the door with a harsh thud. His anguish shattered the quiet buzzing of the bathroom like glass being savaged by a sledgehammer, his blunt fingernails scraping at the off-white, plastic door. Both weakened and fuelled by his anxiety, he pulled the door of the cubical off its hinges, completely unprepared for what lay beyond it.

Drip, drip, drip.

He froze.

His mouth opened.

Then closed.

His hands fell by his sides as if his arms were lifeless.

He was too late.

How could he have let this happen?

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2001

The last time Suguru cried, he was 15.

His parents stood outside their home, waving him off as he left for Jujutsu Tech. Suguru hated how he didn’t want to leave them, as if they hadn’t been convincing him that he was insane since he was able to speak.

When Suguru started crying as a child, his parents would get angry. It was then the monsters emerged, crawling out from his mother’s mouth. Their inky fingers would latch onto her sloped nose and push at her olive skin. Another would already be leaking out his father’s eye sockets like hot tar, dripping onto the kitchen tiles to create a snarling mound of toxicity and regret, their empty eyes fixed on the child before them. The room would fill with the stench of vomit, later accompanied by the smell of urine as Suguru could no longer contain his fear.

They tried to fill him with antipsychotics, ‘paranoid schizophrenia’ is the label they pushed onto Suguru, but of course that didn’t work. At night, he would hear his mother cry, mourning the fact she was cursed with an inconsolable child. As the drugs didn’t work, the dosages became higher and higher. It was for this reason, his memories of his childhood felt like a nightmare, the small bubbles of what he could recall felt like he was underwater, drowning in nausea.

At 12, Suguru begged his mother to save herself. The woman, only standing at 5’1”, had curses gnawing at every inch of skin, sucking and twisting the wrinkling flesh. As always, he was dismissed and chastised for being so childish, so difficult, such a burden to her. He only watched in horror as her fingers would drip in black sweat, the all-familiar hue of vomit encompassing his senses.

At 14, a strange man turned up on their doorstep. He had heard rumours of the child who could see monsters, and assured his mother that Suguru was sane.

At 15, he was finally whisked off with the promise of a better life. Suguru let fate drag him from home, tears filling his vision despite himself. It was then that he quit taking antipsychotics, causing a rare side-effect called akathisia to consume him. It forced Suguru to keep moving, his legs and fingers shaking in order to scratch a non-existent itch. An itch which made him want to vomit and cry, an itch which made him scratch and tear at his skin as it colonised every lobe and cortex of his brain. An itch which made Suguru question if life was even worth the pain it caused him.

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2006

“Dude, get up! Our lesson starts in one minute.” Satoru’s fists impatiently rapped on Suguru’s door, with a disturbing lack of rhythm.

“Tell Yaga that I’m sick.” Suguru called from where he was hunched over, perched on the edge of his bed. His fingernails tapped against the metal frame, his legs exchanging different amounts of pressure where they pushed against the creaky springs of the mattress as he restlessly shifted his weight.

“Huh? Like hell I’m doing that!” Satoru’s muffled protest came from the other side of his door.

“You should go, it’s not good to skip lessons.” Ensued Suguru’s always-moral reply, his voice silky despite the gritting of his teeth. He needed to throw up, or cry, but Suguru never cried. Vomit, it is.

“Says you!”

“Fine.” Suguru sighed, standing up to unlock his door. As soon as the door opened a crack, Satoru came bursting in.

“Finally!” He groaned, dramatically throwing himself into Suguru’s unmade bed. “Shoko’s gonna kill us.”

Suguru yawned, grabbing his sports gear. “You shouldn’t bother yourself with my timing, Satoru,” He said as he stripped, chucking his sweat-drenched pyjamas atop his heap of dirty clothes which grew like a tumour behind the door. Appearances had always mattered to him, first impressions and self-preservation were two priorities he lived by in first year. Before second year, the only mess in Suguru’s room would be Satoru’s belongings- hastily thrown to the side during spontaneous visits or sleepovers, or his book collection, which had quickly outgrown the modest shelf by the bed. “Who’s going to fill me in if you’re not there?”

Satoru pouted in response, cocking his head to watch the digits of the digital clock on the bedside table change, signalling the lesson’s start. As Suguru dressed himself, he shifted from side-to-side, desperately trying to repress the discomfort scratching at his skin without causing concern for Satoru.

Suguru and Satoru started dating during their first year, though it was all preceded by countless fights and petty arguments. When Suguru saved Satoru’s life, from an accident entirely caused by Satoru’s ego, he was indulged in a kiss. After that, they moved quickly- kisses rushing into making out, then blurring into sex. It was nice at first, the intimacy and raging hormones. Summer was dream-like, everyday spent with each other, not a moment apart. However, when Autumn rolled over, Suguru pulled away. He blamed it on seasonal depression, but he and Satoru hadn’t kissed in days. Shit, Suguru couldn’t even remember when they last had sex. Satoru- loveable, daft, nonchalant, strong, so strong- Satoru had probably passed it off as Suguru being ‘moody’ again. Suguru couldn’t really blame him for it, he never let Satoru in on any more than that. He knew that as long as he was present, Satoru wouldn’t complain.

“I’m going on a run.”

Satoru frowned, “Again?” He whined, “What am I supposed to do?”

“Go to your lesson, I’ll be back soon.” Suguru told him, tying his hair up, repeating a mantra of ‘I am fine, I do not feel sick, I’ll feel better after a run’ in his head.

Leaving Satoru to sulk in his room, Suguru left the school grounds. With the physical demand of being a shaman and his constant need to move, running had always appealed to him. Sometimes he would run for hours until every muscle ached, despite the itch in his limbs still screaming at the back of his mind, begging him to keep moving. As always, his run started at the steps, leading him to the mountainside. The fresh air whipped against his tanned skin, leaving a faint, and not unwelcome sting as he moved. Despite a quick break to hurl the contents of his empty stomach into a bush, the run was somewhat tranquil. Suguru’s mind felt calm, his thoughts only consisting of observations such as ‘tree’, ‘rock’, ‘flower’, ‘tree’, ‘another tree’, and ‘ bush’ as he moved through the scenery. It was nicer than the alternative.

When Suguru finally returned, three hours had passed and he was due to miss his next lesson.

Does it really matter anymore?

Suguru crept to the dorms to pick up a change of clothes, noting with slight disappointment and pure disbelief that Satoru might have actually listened to him. He made his way to the bathroom, unable to ignore the stench of sweat on his skin. Admittedly, it was the first time he had showered in a while. Carefully, Suguru took off his clothes, leaving them on the bench. Picking up soap and a towel, he walked into a stall, stepping under the spray of the shower. He hissed as the cold water splashed over the sores and scratches littering his skin. Suguru’s fists clenched as he started to wash his hair, the soap dripping into his eyes and onto his sensitive skin. The pain wasn’t unpleasant, and Suguru knew that was the problem. When crimson blood dripped down his arm, the internal demand for constant fidgeting was drowned out, replaced by the hot burning of the nerves in his forearms and thighs.

After showering, he dried off, changed into his uniform and made his way to the training rooms, his legs moving as if on autopilot.

Not long after enrolling at Jujutsu Tech, he had familiarised himself with the training rooms, which soon became his safe haven. The large, sealed-off rooms allowed privacy for Suguru to pace under the excuse of combat practice. Often, he would lose track of time as his feet never ceased their restless rhythm against the tatami floor.

Despite his calm nature, frustration perpetually brimmed Suguru’s brain. He envied those his age who worried about homework and relationships, the insignificant woes of life which cowered under the curse of his akathisia. He hated that he was raised by non-sorcerers who gave him this burden, unlike Satoru who was treated like a blessing instead of a curse.

His pacing continued furiously as he sunk into deep thought. Suguru wanted to crawl out of his skin. He couldn’t keep up with his body. It was as if he was in a constant battle with his biology.

Develop a condition because of the mistakes made by your parents.

Check.

Fall in love with the most emotionally unintelligent man alive.

Check.

Keep moving.

Check.

Keep moving.

Check.

Keep moving.

I’m exhausted.

Keep moving.

Keep mov-

It must have looked like Suguru was in a trance. It reminded him of a case he had read about, of which took place in 1500s France. Suguru had read of people dancing until their feet bled, and inevitably until they passed out and died. It had all been part of some religious-rage-encouraged mass mania which caused people to dance perpetually until it killed them. And its cure? Prayer. It was laughable, but then again, there he was.

When things got bad, Satoru would always offer to run with him or train with him, but recently things had been getting worse. With the impact of Toji Fushiguro’s attack buried beneath missions and lessons, Satoru had been growing distant. Suguru tried his best not to blame him for it, but resentment bubbled deep inside of him, despite reason.

Things were changing rapidly, and Suguru had no idea how to handle it.

When Satoru entered an hour later, Suguru finally stopped.

“Yo!” Satoru grinned, his glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose to reveal his wide eyes, his irises resembling glaciers thawing in spring. He perched on a box of training equipment, stretching his long legs out in front of him.

Suguru smiled wryly, “How was class?”

“Class…?” Satoru furrowed his eyebrows, bringing a hand to pinch his cheeks in thought, “Oh, right! I didn’t go.” He shrugged, “No use in going if you’re not there.”

Suguru sighed, guilt gripping his heart with sharp talons. Sitting on the ground slowly, he winced slightly at the ache in his legs. “Where did you go, then?” he asked, starting to rock in place as restlessness caught up to him once more.

“I went to see Toji’s brat.” Satoru said, letting his arms dangle by his side, “They look so similar, it's creepy as fuck!” He emphasised with an exaggerated grimace, slouching where he was sat.

Suguru’s eyes widened as a harsh realisation set in, “Seriously?”

“Yup.” Satoru replied, popping the ‘p’ , “I guess he’s my responsibility now, huh?”

Suguru hummed, his gaze dark and cold, “Sure, I guess so.”

Bitterness, worse than the taste of a curse, burned on Suguru’s tastebuds. Satoru was like a weight that only grew heavier, no matter how much Suguru trained himself to lift. Satoru was a dock leaf to relieve his sting, forever dangled in front of him, impossible to reach. There was always another responsibility, another brick in the wall between them. Clan, missions, higher-ups, infinity, being The Strongest™, and now a child.

Infinity, as a value, cannot technically grow or shrink. Yet, the infinite space between them suddenly became more daunting, and Suguru felt further away from him than ever.

“When will I see you again?” Suguru asked, his voice low and upset.

Satoru took a sharp inhale as he furrowed his eyebrows, his hand reaching to push back his albino hair. “I dunno… maybe a week?” He mumbled, “It’s hard to say, they barely give me twenty-four hours notice before a mission anymore.” Satoru lowered his gaze to meet Suguru’s eye, a lopsided grin stretching on his face. “Why? You gonna miss me?”

Fall in love with a man you can never keep up with.

Check.

Suguru groaned, acting as if Satoru hadn’t just read his mind. “Whatever…”

Oblivious, Satoru barked out a laugh, “Don’t cry while I’m gone, yeah?” He taunted, though his voice was affectionate, “I won’t come back empty-handed, I promise.” Satoru’s voice softened as he leaned over to squeeze Suguru’s shoulder.

With a dramatic kiss to Suguru’s forehead, Satoru waltzed out, leaving him with dread bubbling in his stomach.

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“Satoru’s gone again.”

Suguru sat in one of the metal chairs in the morgue, hunched over, as Shoko tended to a victim of a recent curse attack. She hummed sympathetically. “How are your symptoms?”

“Worse than ever.”

“1-10?”

“Last week I said 10, Shoko.” Suguru’s voice shook.

Shoko turned to look at him, a cigarette dangling from her lips, “So now?”

“Shoko,” His voice started climbing with desperation, “I want to kill myself.”

Suguru had never admitted it, not even to himself. And just like that, the civil war in his brain turned into World War 3; muskets becoming atomic bombs.

Shoko’s neutral expression fell as she paused, the cigarette falling from her mouth almost comically. “You shouldn’t joke about that.” She stared at him, her expression the most appropriate it had ever been for someone standing in a morgue.

“Shoko…” Suguru‘s voice was pleading.

“I don’t want to dissect you, Geto.”

“Shoko-“

“I don’t want to cremate you.”

Suguru fell silent, his hands beginning to tremble.

“I don’t want to ask Gojo where we should spread your ashes-“

“Okinawa-” Suguru interrupted quietly, his voice brittle.

“Geto.”

Suguru froze.

Shoko turned away, bracing herself against the table and hanging her head. Suguru wrapped his arms around his torso, his eyes stinging as he tried to swallow the lump in his throat. His legs began shaking. The air was tense as Shoko stood up straight as she attempted to compose herself before turning around. “What can I do to help you?” She said slowly, watching him carefully.

Suguru shook his head, not trusting himself to speak.

If he spoke, he would throw up.

Or worse, cry.

“Geto.” Her voice dropped to a murmur as she walked towards him. “Talk to me.”

Suguru stood up abruptly, the screech of the metal chair against the floor making Shoko flinch.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.” Suguru pulled a face, praying it was a convincing smile before he left, hurriedly. The door violently swung behind him, leaving Shoko to stare after him. He felt like he was in a daze, the lights blurred and his rushed footsteps became muffled. Suguru prayed that he would wake up, he prayed that his mind was taunting him in his sleep like usual.

As he strode out, his limbs felt like they could collapse in on themselves at any moment. Every part of him felt weak, his eyelids felt heavy, his nervous system was clawing at him, his mind was drained.

Once he dragged himself into his dorm, Suguru fell into a dreamless sleep as soon as his head hit his pillow.

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Ring. Ring. Ri-

“Hm?”

“Suguru! Guess what?” Satoru’s cheery voice answered.

“…Huh?”

“…Suguru?”

“Sorry…” He winced as he sat up, his head spinning. “What was it?”

“I’m coming back for a while… Apparently Yaga argued with the higher- ups over it.”

“How come?” Suguru muttered absentmindedly, climbing out of bed, shakily. It was all real. He felt sick.

“Something that Shoko said-“

“What?” Suguru froze, his voice harsher than he had intended. He knew. He knew he shouldn’t have said anything. Now he was going to face the consequences.

What would they do? Would they even care?

It was conflicting, how his best-case scenario was also his worst.

“Um… yeah. I dunno what it was, but I guess it’s important.” Satoru hummed.

Suguru stood up quickly, “What did they tell you?” He asked, panic beginning to seep into his voice as he willed the acid in his stomach to stay on the right end of his oesophagus.

“Just that it was important enough for my missions to be deprioritised… why? Suguru, are you ok?” Satoru murmured, his voice sounding unsure over the muffled phone speaker.

“Fucking peachy, Satoru.” He snapped, running his hand through his hair. “Look, I gotta go, ok?”

“Sure, but-”

“See you.”

Beep.

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“Shoko!” Suguru hissed as he approached the woman, hunched over some paperwork. She froze.

“What did you tell-“

Shoko stood up, glaring at him, clearly expecting this reaction. “Nothing.” She scowled, “I should’ve, but I didn’t.”

Suguru paused, his shoulders slumping. Short-lived relief washing over him like icy water. “Satoru said…”

“I told Yaga that it was vital, and he believed me.” She said, “That’s it.”

“But who will-”

“Me.”

“Oh.”

Shoko looked at him pitifully, “Can you last two days until he gets here?”

Suguru nodded numbly. He hated it. He hated how Shoko looked at him like he was a child acting out, like he was some sort of temperamental stray dog.

“Atta boy.” She replied, brushing past him to collect various files, deliberately avoiding making eye contact.

He sighed slowly, composing himself. “I’m sorry.” He said, his voice cracking as if he were some prepubescent child.

“For what?”

“I shouldn’t have said anything.” Suguru replied sombrely, shifting on his feet. Shoko turned around slowly, her hands clenched by her sides.

“Geto,” She whispered, “is that why you think I’m upset?” Shoko’s voice shook as she moved to pull Suguru into a hug. “You idiot.”

Suguru froze as Shoko’s arms tightened around his torso, the warmth of another body so unfamiliar since Satoru had made himself more distant. He swallowed, his unsteady hands resting on Shoko’s back, pushing her small frame closer to him. “I’m losing both of you.” Her voice shook, each jolt of her trembling body sending a needle-sharp pain into Suguru’s heart. Guilt flooded through him, shrivelling and curling unpleasantly inside of him like a dead spider. Suguru leaned down, pressing his nose into Shoko’s chestnut hair. The smell of coconut shampoo invaded his senses and he reminded himself to store away the smell, right next to the vanilla-sandalwood-tainted sweat of Satoru’s inner thigh. Suguru rubbed Shoko’s back slowly, soothing her through her reluctant tears, which slowly started to soak through his shirt. “Don’t you dare go… Not you… Not you too…” She bit in-between gasps, her hands clawing the front of his shirt.

“Hey...” Suguru managed, swallowing down his emotions with difficulty. “You don’t need us. You have Utahime, right?” He smiled painfully, hoping to reassure her.

“Fucking bullshit!” Shoko spat, her voice muffled as she buried her face in his chest. “Stop trying to find people to fill your place.”

“I’m n…” Oh.

“I’m not going anywhere.” He corrected himself, cradling the back of her head as she furiously sniffled.

Shoko snorted tearily, “You better not.”

Suguru nodded with a soft smile. It was nice to know that he would be missed.

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“Satoru gets back tomorrow.”

Yaga stared at Suguru sternly, who was sat in his office. Suguru hummed, the floorboard beneath his foot creaking with every bounce of his leg.

“Shoko told me it was more important than a hundred civilian lives.” He continued, raising an eyebrow at the teenager before him, pupils blindly glancing over Suguru’s dark circles and cuts. “Explain why I risked my position to bring Satoru back.”

Suguru shrugged, eyes tiredly assessing the man in front of him. “It was Shoko’s idea.” He muttered, “Doctor’s orders, right?”

“Suguru.” Yaga scolds, “Explain.”

Silence filled the room, bottom to ceiling, and Suguru was sinking like the Titanic. He studied his fingernails carefully, noting each and every speck of dirt underneath, and every peeling cuticle on either side of his outgrown nails. His eyes then flickered to the blank walls, counting every chip in the paint. Yaga coughed and Suguru inwardly cursed as he lost count. Shit. He started again, probably going cross-eyed as he examined the ugly beige paint. 57, 58, 59… The tempo of the clock ticking was starting to remind him of the beginning of a song, the one that went-

“Suguru.”

Oh.

“I don’t know.” Suguru offered, trying to keep his voice even.

If Suguru acted coquettish and nonchalant, he found that most people dismissed his antisocial behaviour as him being ‘an asshole’ or ‘being insufferable.’ It was no longer concern and pity he received from Yaga and Shoko, but scoldings and blunt retorts. This way it was easier. It would be easier for everyone, he told himself.

Yaga scowled, which seemed to be a common reaction to him nowadays, “That’s not good enough.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t supply a better explanation for Shoko’s actions.” He smiled with fake politeness, his jaw aching.

“Don’t play coy with me.”

Suguru’s smile didn’t falter as he faced Yaga. With absolutely no plan for what he’d say next, he opened his mouth.

Ring.

Ring, Ring.

Infuriated, Yaga shot him a final glare before he turned to answer the call.

Suguru slithered out of his office.

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The countryside blurred into a green smudge as the bullet train sped through the outskirts of Tokyo. Satoru sighed, his head resting against the window, upbeat music humming through his earphones.

“Excuse me, sir.”

He pulled one of his earphones out, turning his attention to a young woman in uniform.

“May I see your ticket?”

Satoru handed it over absentmindedly, his vision beginning to blur as his tired eyes threatened to close.

“Thank you!”

He felt the lady press his ticket into his open palm, and he pulled his fist into his lap as her footsteps faded away.

The hours of the train journey had started to bleed together, his under-eyes aching more with every passing tree. Satoru sighed, his eyelids fluttering shut behind his glasses. Life had become suffocating. He envied when he had time to pick fights with Suguru and pull all-nighters playing Digimon. Now he spent endless days exorcising curses, rescuing civilians, arguing with high-ups. Life was a broken record: exorcise, rescue, argue, exorcise, rescue, argue, exorcise… Satoru hadn’t slept for weeks, and that was ok. Well, Satoru didn’t need to sleep, right?

Admittedly, he had no idea why he was suddenly whisked onto a train. A lot of authoritative decisions about his schedule passed through Shoko since she was the only one who rooted for his psychological and mental health. She had never demanded he return half way through a mission, though. Sure, missions were prioritised and deprioritised all the time, but this was different. Satoru felt dread crawling up his spine and eating at him like termites, despite him having no logical reason for feeling so.

Something was wrong.

He tried not to think about the other reason he was so busy now. Besides Toji’s kids and clan politics, another burden had been eating away at him. It was unheard of in their first year for Satoru to take over Suguru’s missions. They were competitive, and they fought to do the most missions by the end of the month. The first time Suguru asked Satoru to take one of his missions, Satoru was ecstatic, taunting him for days. The second time, Satoru accepted smugly. The fifth time, Satoru was concerned.

And now?

Suguru hardly went on missions anymore. Maybe a few grade 1 or 2 curses per month. Shoko said something about medical issues.

Satoru noticed, of course he had, the constant shaking and fidgeting. He also knew that Suguru was depressed. Satoru saw the containers of Prozac on his bedside table and he recognised Suguru’s unexplained disappearances from 15:00 to 17:00 every Thursday.

Oh, he knew. Satoru just never knew how to address it.

The automated feminine voice over the speakers announced the train’s arrival at Shibuya, and Satoru shifted in his seat, stretching his arms above his head.

It would be fine. Suguru could handle himself.

If not, Satoru could handle whatever Suguru couldn’t. They worked well like that. It was fine, they always pulled through in the end.

As the train rolled to a stop, Satoru picked up his small bag of belongings. He only brought hygiene products and sleep-wear, clubbing and exploring had lost its appeal to him a while ago.

Satoru stepped off the train and took a deep breath, walking over to the assistant waiting for him.

“Yo.” He greeted her with a wave.

It would be fine.

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It was not fine.

“You’re telling me this now?” Satoru spat, the cogs in his brain sparking and groaning as they twisted and collided, his brain catastrophically rewiring itself as he attempted to process Yaga’s words.

Yaga’s jaw clenched, “We didn’t think it would get… like this.” He said, sombrely. Satoru’s eye twitched.

“And now what?” Satoru’s voice was harsh, unbothered by how Yaga looked away and Shoko walked out, hand shielding her mouth.

Yaga looked helpless. “His therapist contacted us saying he didn’t turn up to his session today,” He muttered, “we thought you could talk to him.”

Satoru scoffed, turning away. He walked out the room. Just like that, every gap was filled. Every run, every day spent in the training rooms, every scratch and bandage… He wanted to vomit.

“Gojo!”

Shoko caught him by the hand.

“If it helps, Yaga didn’t know until recently…” She murmured, “Well, he didn’t know the severity of it, anyway.” He turned to look at her slowly.

“When did you find out?” Satoru asked, his voice quiet. Almost fragile.

Shoko grimaced. “The day you were called back.” Satoru nodded, beginning to walk away from her.

She swallowed. “No, that’s not right.” Satoru stopped. “He told me a week before that. He’d been telling me for weeks that it was getting worse.” Shoko admitted, her expression stoney. “I didn’t know what to do.” Her voice grew hoarse. “I’m sorry, Gojo.”

Satoru swore under his breath. “It’s fine.” He said, dismissively. His head hurt, and if he took his hands out of his pockets, they would probably start shaking. “I’ll go find him.”

Shoko nodded, watching him warily. “Ok.”

Wordlessly, Satoru started walking again, his legs moving on autopilot as he numbly stared off into the end of the corridor.

What the fuck.

Satoru’s feet led him to the dorms, he could picture Suguru curled up in his bed, nose buried in some stupid philosophy book.

What the fuck.

Everyone knew except for him. Suguru had been saying for weeks that things were getting worse, and Satoru didn’t know a thing.

“What the fuck.”

Satoru swung his door open.

His room was empty.

He paused.

Maybe he was in Satoru’s room.

Empty.

Satoru’s feet moved manically, causing him to trip over himself as he stumbled to the training rooms.

Empty.

Empty, empty…

He checked the showers.

Empty.

Door after door was thrown open, handles slamming into walls and scratching off paint, some coming off their hinges.

Empty.

Empty, fucking empty.

Satoru wanted to scream.

At last, he turned to the boys’ bathroom, slamming the door open. Anxiety pumped through every vein in his body, overflowing his arteries and beginning to bubble over.

Drip, drip, drip.

Satoru treaded into the bathroom hesitantly, knowing it was the one place he hadn’t looked. As the yellow, artificial ceiling lights flickered on, he paused.

Drip, drip, drip.

Satoru scanned the row of empty cubicles until his watery gaze settled on the last one.

He swallowed, his six eyes immediately picking up on the residuals smeared all over the cubicle walls. Satoru walked towards it slowly, trepidation weighing his feet down like bricks of ice.

Drip, drip, drip.

Step, step, squelch.

Drip, drip, drip.

Satoru knocked on the door.

“Suguru?” He murmured, his voice cracking despite himself.

No answer.

He pushed at the door, only to find it locked and Satoru cursed.

Drip, drip, drip.

He froze.

His mouth opened.

Then closed.

His hands fell by his sides as if his arms were lifeless.

Drip, drip, drip.

Satoru could have tried to convince himself that the mutilated body before him wasn’t Suguru, but his six eyes spelled it out in capital letters. He silently cursed himself for acting without thinking.

Suguru’s skin was grey. He died staring up at the ceiling, his pupils now blown, leaving only a sliver of evidence of the bronze irises which Satoru once adored, now barely visible in his empty eyes. The raven hair which fell to Suguru’s shoulders was now matted with blood, each strand glued to the contours of his hollow face. Various shreds of his intestines slid down his hair and blood-splattered cheeks, landing with a plop in the rancid puddle of his fleshless lap or on the floor where most of Suguru’s innards appeared to have been dumped. His body had seemingly been turned inside-out, only bones and muscle remained within the body. Suguru’s disfigured ribs poked out of his skin like the branches of a tree, withered by winter. His legs had been twisted unnaturally, his feet, or what was left of them, pointing in erratic direction. His grimacing lips were parted, vomit and blood dripping from his chin like a leaking faucet, the acidity burning Satoru’s nose.

The stench of blood, shit and puke should have made Satoru back away and gag, but he didn’t. He stood and stared.

He stared for so long, the gruesome scene burned into his retinas.

He was too late.

How could he have let this happen?

#satosugu #gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen #geto suguru #jjk gojo #jjk geto #angst #triggering content #schizophrenia #shoko ieiri #jjk shoko #unhappy ending #i have a problem #have fun #i hope you like it

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