#i've been looking for you all day that city is HUGE | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

forlix · 11 months

Text

𝐜𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠・h.h.

— you're uninviting, there's no doubt about that, your resolve like unpolished diamond and tongue like broken glass. but hyunjin finds you're not half as impossible as everyone assumes you are.

words・11.1k

pairing・idol!hyunjin x female stylist!reader (inspired by this)

genres・fluff, angst, eventual smut so MDNI, some hurt/comfort, some humor, mc is a bad bitch and hyunjin is a #simp, enemies? to lovers, sexual tension, workplace relationship, mutual pining, slow burn, nonlinear narrative

warnings・reader vividly remembers an anxiety attack, alcohol is consumed, lots of compartmentalization and imperfect communication, complex people feeling complex emotions, smut warnings under the cut

playlist・farewell, neverland by txt・like crazy by jimin・black friday by tom odell・collide by justine skye・crying lightning by arctic monkeys

a/n・call me victor frankenstein bc i've given birth to a MONSTER (except i actually love and care for mine ofc). this was easily the greatest challenge of my fanfiction-writing career and it feels like my magnum opus; i hope it's worth the wait! also a huge shoutout to sahar for being my voice of reason and my biggest supporter :’) i don’t deserve u i love u

smut warnings・cunnilingus, overstimulation, creampie (practice safe sex!!), mild dacryphilia

Present day. Cannes, France. 5:54 P.M.

You’ve long made peace with the fact that Hwang Hyunjin is incapable of shutting up for more than five minutes.

As it is, the man has a mouth that runs like a cross-country marathon; then throw in his uncanny aptitude for annoying you, and what do you get? A nonstop slew of terrible jokes and teasing quips, tailored according to his thorough mental manual of what gets under your skin hardest and fastest.

This is the reality you live in, presumably because you were evil in your past life, and you’ve steeled yourself to see it through.

But twenty minutes have passed since you and Hyunjin ducked into the back of a cab and gave the driver the show’s address—and, as stunning as the red rooftops and lazuline coastline of Cannes are, you find you’re more interested in Hyunjin’s peculiar silence.

You move your gaze to his face. He’s looking outside, his chin resting upon the palm of his hand, the afternoon sunlight dusting over his chiseled features like polish on pottery; his complexion an exuberant gold against the cream-colored linen that makes up his clothing.

Maybe it’s because you opted for a simpler makeup look today, leaving the most telling contours of his face warm and bare, or maybe it’s because you’ve spent the last year committing his every mannerism and expression to memory. Nevertheless, you see through his pursed lips and tight brow right away.

“Nervous?”

Hyunjin’s head swivels towards you with a small snap, like he’s forgotten you’re here. His lips fall open, their glossy peach color glinting with the small shift.

“No,” he replies reflexively, but then his facade flickers. “Fuck, maybe a little. It’s just hard to believe, you know?”

You do know. It was a huge honor for both of you when Hyunjin was named the newest global ambassador of Versace. For you to be attending the brand’s pop-up show in one of the most beautiful cities in Europe, among some of the world’s most prolific creatives, is truly incomprehensible. Even you’ve been feeling antsy since you landed; you can only imagine Hyunjin’s anxiety.

You have never been good at consolation. You think your mouth is too coarse, your propensity for honesty too strong. But you’ve always known just what to say when it comes to him.

“Just remember who you are.”

Hyunjin takes a few seconds to process your words, but his understanding washes over his whole body; straightens his back; hardens his gaze. You don’t see this change in posture, though. You’re too busy looking anywhere else, all of a sudden feeling quite embarrassed.

Nor do you see the private smile that disperses across Hyunjin’s lips; his eyes softening so, so marginally when they peer at your profile; his hand twitching where it rests on his knee, as if contemplating reaching for you with a mind of its own.

Thirty seconds. That is the amount of time you have left to bask in this otherworldly tranquility. And then he speaks.

“I want you to meet my parents.”

Your arm reacts before your mind can. Without having to turn your head an inch, you smack him squarely in the bicep, sending him crumpling against his door with a bark of a laugh; “please,” he adds, and you’re biting back a smile as you hit him again, with less conviction this time.

The cab driver nearly misses an exit, too busy wondering about the peculiar pair in his backseat and the nature of your relationship. He can’t tell if you hate each other or if you’re married.

One year ago. Seoul, South Korea. 8:42 A.M.

“I still can’t believe you’re abandoning me.”

“For my newborn daughter.”

“Yeah, okay. I still can’t believe you’re abandoning me for your newborn daughter. What does that brat have that I don’t?”

“My genes, to begin with.”

“That’s unfair. She’s using—”

An important-looking pair of women step out of the nearest elevators, the clacking of their heels ricocheting sharply off the lobby walls. Hyunjin straightens his back so quickly he thinks he pulls a muscle. He and Seojun incline their heads in perfect sync, their “good morning”s prim and professional.

“She’s using cheats,” Hyunjin hisses the second the women are out of earshot again, and this wrests a laugh from the older man at last.

Around one month prior, Seojun confided in Hyunjin that he and his partner were expecting their first child soon, and that he would be putting his career on indefinite hiatus to welcome her into the world.

Hyunjin had never felt so conflicted in his life. On one hand, he’d grown closer to his stylist over the last two years than he’d thought possible, and he knew it was stupid to be anything but delighted for him and his expanding family. On the other hand, it was precisely because they’d become so close that he wanted to grab the man by the ankles and shake the decision clean out of his body. He couldn’t imagine a dressing room or tour bus without him.

Today is a Saturday, but it’s also Seojun’s last day with the company. Hyunjin dragged himself to the JYP building at half past eight with much less reluctance than he let on. He wouldn’t have missed it for the world.

“Fourth floor,” Seojun instructs after the pair enter the elevator, and Hyunjin presses a knuckle to the according number. “Thanks.”

The doors slide shut; the floor numbers tick upwards.

“What was her name again?” Hyunjin asks.

“Y/N,” Seojun returns. “Y/L/N.”

“Is she here already?”

“No, she’ll be here at nine.”

There’s a small pause.

“Hyung.”

“Hm?”

“I feel like I’m being married off to another family for political reasons.”

“God, I can’t wait to be free of your theatrics.”

At this, the two men make eye contact; exchange smiles. The elevator announces their arrival to the fourth floor, and they step through the doors.

“You’ll be in good hands,” Seojun reassures. “She’s the best of the best. I hear she’s basically running the industry these days. I’m surprised she agreed to take you on.”

“I’m surprised an old fry like you knows someone like her,” Hyunjin replies, and the look Seojun gives him is so withering that he thinks he pulls a muscle again with his apologetic bow.

“You’re not wrong, though,” Seojun concedes. “We happened to work on the same project back when she was still a small name, and we’ve kept in touch ever since. She’s a great kid. Ambitious, hardworking, strong as hell—”

They arrive outside their destination, and Hyunjin holds open the door to the conference room. Only to find that Seojun has stopped in his footsteps, temporarily stunned by a new realization.

She reminds me of him.

“He’s forgotten how to walk,” the him in question whispers like he’s narrating a nature documentary, and the moment is over. “Is this what fatherhood does to a man?”

Seojun kicks Hyunjin into the room by the seat of his pants.

The minutes pass slowly. Seojun moves his eyes between the door and his phone every few seconds, visibly antsy about the imminent meeting. In the meantime, Hyunjin makes the groundbreaking discovery that these office chairs are absurdly and almost suspiciously comfortable. All it takes is a chin upon his palm and a few seconds of shut-eye, and he’s suddenly slumped over the table, snoring softly into the crook of his elbow.

At 8:57, Seojun’s phone lights up with a new notification. At 8:58, he notices that Hyunjin is asleep, and closes his hand around the crumpled receipt in his pocket. At 8:59, he scrunches said receipt into a ball and launches it in Hyunjin’s direction. It hits him squarely on the head, and the boy is nearly knocked to the floor like a bowling pin.

“For that,” Hyunjin sputters, “I’m the godfather.”

“Absolutely the hell not.”

Then, it is 9:00.

When the door of the conference room opens, Hyunjin is still trying to gather his wits, wondering if the bastard is leaving the makeup industry to secretly pursue a career in professional basketball. He just barely notices the unfamiliar figure who steps into his line of vision.

“There she is,” Seojun greets warmly, rising to his feet right away. “God, how long has it been? Two, three years now?”

You’re not doing anything remarkable when Hyunjin sees you for the first time, simply walking across the room and bowing graciously in Seojun’s direction, but he is immediately under the vague impression that you’re cutting through space as you move, scorching the particles of air that dare obstruct your path.

With his head cocked slightly to the left, like a fascinated puppy, Hyunjin watches the stunning smile that forms on your lips when you take Seojun’s hand; your finger as it tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear with the elegance of rippling silk. His mind feels impossibly slow, like you’ve tapped open his skull and robbed him of his ability to think.

Then, you toss Hyunjin a look over your shoulder, and he’s reminded of lightning forking towards the earth. Terrifying, volatile, beautiful.

“Something like that,” you say, turning back to Seojun, and time starts to move again. “It’s great to see you again, Mr. Lee. Congratulations on the baby.”

“Please, Seojun is fine,” he answers hastily. “And thank you. Thank you for all of this, actually. I can’t tell you how excited we are to have you.”

“You’re too kind—I’m excited too.”

Upon uttering the word “we,” Seojun delivers Hyunjin a fleeting side-eye; he takes the hint and pushes himself to his feet, feeling uncharacteristically clumsy as he moves towards you.

The second time he meets your gaze, it feels wrong, almost, for him to hold it for as long as he does. Like he’s approaching your throne with his chin held high and eyes fixed forward instead of his head sweeping the ground.

Except he swears he senses a strange warmth within the rings of your irises, and he spends every second of eye contact following, chasing it, almost craning his neck with how badly he wants to get a closer look. Until he’s as close to you as is socially acceptable for a first meeting and comes to a halt.

He ends up losing its trail, but he won’t forget that it’s there.

“My client, I’m guessing?” You say, extending your hand. “Y/N. It’s a pleasure.”

Your fingers are freezing cold where they meet his, and Hyunjin already knows that melting the permafrost that coats your flesh and guards your soul will be the tallest task of his life.

But he finds his next words accompanied by an involuntary smirk; he’s nothing, if not tenacious.

“Hyunjin,” he returns. “Pleasure’s all mine.”

Nine months ago. Paris, France. 6:16 P.M.

Hyunjin isn’t sure why—maybe you forget that he can still steal glances at your reflection over your shoulder or through the gaps of your fingers—but he’s learned over the last four weeks that you’re different, gentler, when you’re doing his makeup.

Your cold hands request instead of demand that he angle his head a certain way or suck in his cheeks. Your syllables are rounder somehow, your voice never traveling above a murmur. Even your eyes mellow out when you move in really close, your pupils dilating as you detail the final touches to the fresco you’ve painted upon him.

Your expression doesn’t give you away (it never does), but his hunch is that there’s a sprinkle of doting somewhere among the intense focus. That would explain why he feels like a flower in the moments when your fingertips and gaze move so carefully over his skin, like you’re touching his petals, trying not to tear them.

Too bad you never let him daydream for long.

“Close.”

“Huh?”

“Your eyes. Close them.”

His lashes have hardly brushed his lower lids when you begin to empty what feels like an entire bottle of setting spray on him. At the moist surprise, Hyunjin’s features scrunch up around his nose and he lets out a distraught hack like an old man.

A few seconds later, the barrage stops, and he cracks open a wary eye to scope out his surroundings. You wait until he does this to give his face one last spurt.

“Witch,” Hyunjin mutters, clawing back up the vanity chair.

“Thank you,” you reply, completely earnestly.

And whatever Hyunjin was going to say next suspends instantly on his tongue when you bring the pad of your thumb to the very edge of his lower lip and drag it across the soft flesh. He wonders if you know how hard he tries not to look at your mouth whenever you tend to his. He wonders if there’s anything you don’t know.

“You smudged your lipstick already.” There’s a small streak of coral pink on your hand when it falls back to your side. “See? That’s why we need the setting spray.”

“Uh huh.” And Hyunjin spots a ghost of a smile flit across your face, gone nearly as soon as it appears. The only evidence of it ever existing is the quickened heartbeat it leaves behind within him.

“You’re done, by the way,” you say, stepping aside. “Take a look.”

He slips out of his seat and moves closer to the vanity, peering at his reflection as curiously as if he’s never seen it before. But that’s how he’s felt since he started working with you.

Seojun was right: you are the best that the makeup industry has to offer. Hyunjin has come to understand this for multiple reasons. Your phone screen is incessantly illuminated by new notifications and incoming calls. The other stylists heed your advice like it’s the law. Brushes and pencils move like water when it’s you maneuvering them. And then some.

He would call what you have “talent,” but he knows it’s more than that. You show him a new version of himself every time you turn a mirror in his direction, like there are facets of him that are visible to you and you only. As much as he delights in the notion that you have such intimate knowledge of him, it should be impossible, considering you’ve only known him for two months. So no, it’s not just talent that you possess. It’s some combination of talent, hawkish perception, and raw artistry that is utterly inhuman—and sexy as fuck.

Speaking of sexy. Hyunjin’s look is relatively rudimentary tonight, the makeup light, the outfit a simple black tank top beneath a jacket and pants made of bright red velvet. But it’s the details that tie the whole thing together: the wide, loose sleeves causing the jacket to slip continually off his shoulders; the inner layer tight in all the right places. His face doesn’t look half bad either, with the sultry carmine powder that fringes his eyes and the intentionally mussed state of his hair. He pushes a hand through the dark locks, regarding himself with thorough appreciation.

You appear in his periphery as you start cleaning up your work station. “You can just take the jacket off when your sweat glands start malfunctioning, by the way. I thought you’d appreciate that detail.”

At this, his smize cracks into a laugh, the sound loud and uninhibited and uniquely yours to hear. “You suck.”

He looks away from his reflection just in time to glimpse another of your phantom smiles, and he thinks it’s so painfully on brand that the two times it’s appeared tonight have both been from you making yourself laugh. You might be the most insufferable person he’s ever met. He might be obsessed with you anyways.

“Well?” You implore. “What do you think?”

“No notes.”

It’s the answer you’re expecting. You survey him from head to toe one last time, decide that you, too, are satisfied, and slip your makeup into your bag; hike its strap over your shoulder.

“I’ll see you after the show, then.”

You have an important conference call to attend before tonight’s concert, hence why Hyunjin had to come in early for hair and makeup. This is also the reason why the two of you have been the only people in the dressing room for the better part of an hour.

It’s rare that he ever gets you alone, and he doesn’t want it to end. Not just yet.

“I lied, actually,” he calls. “I do have notes.”

You already have one foot out the door when you hear this, and you turn around so slowly and in such disbelief that he has to fight to constrain his laugh—the concept of imperfection is truly unthinkable to you. Insufferable, like he said.

“Do tell,” you say, dropping your bag back onto the floor.

“You have any jewelry for me?”

You chew on this for a moment. You did have a selection of necklaces prepared for tonight, but they were heavy and numerous, not exactly the best-suited for the group’s dynamic sets. You still like them, granted, and you know Hyunjin would as well.

You articulate all of this to him, and he asks if he can take a look at them anyways. “Come here, then,” you say, the words so tantalizing when they fall from your lips that nearly trips over himself trying to obey.

You take out a flat rectangular box from your bag and set it down in front of the lightbulb-studded mirrors. Hyunjin observes quietly as you show him its contents: three thick, gold chains with varying lengths and boasting different pendants, plus a beaded bracelet and an assembly of rings of the same material. His devious plan aside, he does love the selection.

“You’re sure you won’t be uncomfortable?”

He nods, and you pick up the longest of the three chains; turn to him expectedly. He takes this as his cue to move closer to you, except he overshoots a little, and he feels the tips of his shoes accidentally bump into the ends of yours; discerns the warmth emanating from your body against his own. He expects a withering glare, a kick in the shin, maybe, but you don’t seem bothered by the proximity at all, unblinking as you bring your hands around the either side of his neck and fasten the first necklace with a soft tap. Your fingers then brush over his collarbones to adjust the pendant, and he thinks your hands would have to be numb not to perceive the frantic heartbeat threatening to burst straight out of his skin.

Entire minutes pass before Hyunjin musters the courage to actually look at you. By then, you’re already working on the third and final necklace. It’s not a surprise that your face is mere inches away from his; he’s been watching your reflections out of the corner of his eye; he knows you’re closer to each other than you’ve ever been. But there are parts of you that the mirror doesn’t show—the soft curve of your lashes, the concentrated narrow of your eyes, the shapely protrusion of your pursed lips—and these surprise him so thoroughly that he slips and slides out of his right mind.

You are the type of beautiful that’s been around longer than humans have, the same as that of the true blue color of forget-me-nots. And Hyunjin feels enveloped, intoxicated by you from this minuscule distance. The idea forms numbly in his head that maybe, just maybe, he was put on this earth to admire you.

In this inebriated state, he makes a venturesome decision.

When you finish centering the last pendant upon the his chest, you are about to take a step back and review the updated look, but you’re debilitated by the feeling of fingers grazing over your hip—lightly, so lightly that you mistake them for a gust of wind at first, but the contact is enough to push the small of your back against the edge of the counter. Then, both of Hyunjin’s hands reach behind you, pressing flat against the marble surface, and, just like that, he has you right where he wants you, ensnared between cold stone and hot flesh.

And so begins an equilibrium so fragile that it’ll shatter if one of you so much as blinks the wrong way, your rattled breath fluttering against his lips, his eyes dark and hooded and out of focus as they survey the fine lines of your expression. It still doesn’t give you away (it never does), but he finds that in this moment he just doesn’t care.

“Let me take you out,” he murmurs. “One date.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” You reply under your breath.

“You know what I’m talking about, beautiful.”

Upon uttering that last word, he angles his head almost imperceptibly, the movement challenging, daring you to say something about it. But you don’t. You merely hiss out a whetted “you’re fucking crazy,” and that’s his opening to drag this on a little longer; push your limits a little more.

“About you? Damn straight.”

At this, finally, fucking finally, there is a semblance of something in your face that isn’t just your usual mildly-irritated nonchalance. Instead, he detects surprise in the whites of your eyes as you widen them; as you part your lips with a response that only comes much later.

And he’s surprised by your surprise. Surely, with your skills of observation, you would’ve noticed long ago how his world shrinks down to only you and your gorgeous voice and your confident glare and your shitty sense of humor whenever he’s been granted the privilege of your presence.

This might be the first time he’s admitted it out loud, but he hasn’t tried—hasn’t been able—to hide how he feels about you, not now, not ever. It’s been that way since the moment the sole of your shoe met the carpet of that conference room on the fourth floor of the JYP building.

“Hwang—” You begin.

“Hyung!”

At the sound of a third, new voice, your arms tense like you’re about to shove Hyunjin off of you, but he only leans in further, so that his lips almost graze your jaw and your hands have nowhere to go except the taut surface of his chest. The surprise is gone; now you’re just pissed. He can feel the heat of your furious eyes and the tremor in your hands as you form fists around the fabric of his top. But he takes his sweet time in scooping up the bracelet and rings, and only afterwards does he pull away from you and straighten to his full height.

“Hey, Innie!” Hyunjin chirps, and Jeongin materializes in the doorway, looking thoroughly perturbed by the older boy’s sunny tone. “What’s up?”

In the meantime, you turn around to snap the lid of your jewelry box shut, and it takes a singular glance in the mirror for a truly horrible realization to settle upon your shoulders. You don’t think anybody would be able to tell even if you announced it outright, but you know yourself and the little nuances of your face all too well.

You’re flustered.

You feel like a horror movie heroine breaking the fourth wall.

“Nothing, weirdo. I was just announcing my arrival,” Jeongin says. Thank fuck you did, Hyunjin thinks to himself, completely unaware of the epiphany you’re having behind him. “Chan-hyung mentioned you were here already? Why?”

“She’s in high demand.” Hyunjin points out the she in question by jutting his chin in your direction. “The usual.”

“Ah.”

Jeongin inclines his head towards you in polite greeting. You return his hello, but your expression starts to feel tight when his eyes dart between the strange smile on Hyunjin’s face and your awkward stance (still glued to the edge of the counter) as he drops his duffel by the couch. The boy isn’t stupid, unlike his older counterpart.

“I saw a vending machine on my way here,” Jeongin says, turning to leave the room again. “You want anything, hyung? Noona?”

“I’m okay, thank you,” you say.

“I’ll have whatever you have,” Hyunjin says.

Jeongin flashes a thumbs-up and dips out of the room, perhaps a little more hastily than he intends to come across. And then there are two. Again.

You wait until you can’t hear his footsteps anymore, and then you turn to glower at Hyunjin so intensely that he thinks you’re about to place a curse on his whole bloodline.

Then, your phone starts vibrating, and he knows he’ll live to see another day.

“You still owe me an answer,” Hyunjin calls as you turn around and leave the room.

“Don’t hold your breath,” you reply.

One day, I’ll break her, is the predominant thought that resides in Hyunjin’s head as he slips on the remaining jewelry; watches your figure disappear around a corner. One day, I’ll break his face, is the predominant thought that resides in yours as you stalk away. That’s the two of you, in a nutshell.

Six months ago. Osaka, Japan. 3:03 P.M.

When you walk into the dressing room, you find Haeun hunched over an overflowing photo album with her hands forming fists in her hair, muttering to nobody in particular, “I have no idea what the fuck I’m doing.”

There’s an amused look in your eye as you set your bag down by Hyunjin’s empty vanity chair. She hasn’t noticed your presence yet; approximately three hallways down, the members are rehearsing for tonight’s performance on the main stage of the Kyocera Dome, and the music is so loud that you think you actually saw the walls vibrating while you were in the hallway moments ago.

You rise to your tiptoes and encroach upon her, waiting until she’s within reach to tickle the back of her neck. She nearly flies out of her seat with a shriek that can be heard over the heavy bass.

“Never gets old.” You hand her the photo album that went soaring also, and Haeun snatches it back with an affronted flourish.

“I can’t remember the last time you said hi to me normally, unnie.”

“Me neither, now that you mention it.”

Haeun and Han are your favorite stylist-idol duo in the world because they’re so eerily similar—and it’s adorable. They both illuminate every room they walk into; they both have grins too big for their faces, laughs too loud for their lungs. You always regret leaving your sunglasses at home when you catch sight of the effulgent pair.

But today you cannot detect the usual radiance in Haeun’s voice, nor so much as a hint of her easy grin. Then again, that’s another quality that she and her client share; they’re both well acquainted with the burdens that come with unwavering passion.

Every stylist has their own modus operandi. Haeun’s is a scrapbook of images that she cuts out and saves from catalogs, advertisements, newspapers, et cetera. You’ve seen it many times before, but never in such a state: messy handwriting stuffing the margins to their very brims, numbers and symbols like clusters of rainclouds over a sea of different outfits, arrows and circles and squares highlighting pant cuffs and cascade collars and dangling earrings. Telltale signs that Haeun hasn’t a clue as to what Han will be wearing tonight.

You gnaw on your lower lip, deliberating your next move. You end up placing a firm hand against the album’s cover and pushing it closed.

“Come with me,” you say. “We’re gonna try a new approach.”

Haeun opens her mouth to protest, but unfortunately you have an extensive track record of being right.

“What do you have in mind?” She sighs instead.

“You’ll see.”

With that, you stand up, tuck a small towel under your arm, and angle your head in the direction of the music.

The two of you make your way through the labyrinth of hallways that comprise the venue’s backstage. Eventually, the color of the floor changes from speckled white to solid black, and you step onto the part of the stage that is concealed from the audience by drawn curtains and heavy equipment. You say a quick hello to the group’s manager as you dip past him, and eventually reach the edge of the curtains, where you and Haeun have a good view of the eight members as they run through their setlist for tonight’s concert.

Haeun settles into the spot beside you, still confused as she follows your gaze.

“Let me ask you this,” you say, just audible over the din. “Can you style a performer if you don’t know how he performs?”

And understanding seeps over her features like poured tea.

“I want you to watch him,” you continue. “Tell me how he performs.”

Han’s part begins, as if on cue. His voice rings out through the empty stadium as he ducks to the front of the formation, a microphone held loosely to his lips, his face taut with focus. Haeun stares at him for some time, silently trying to fathom her observations, but she sees you shaking your head in the corner of her eye.

“Don’t think, Haeun. Just speak.”

She blows out a deep breath before obliging. “It’s hard to picture Han doing anything but laughing or making other people laugh, he’s so goofy and lighthearted most of the time. But he’s like a different person on stage. He’s so intense, it’s almost intimidating. Not intimidating in a douchey way, though—you just get the impression that he’s very confident in himself and his music.

You don’t say another word, but don’t need to. She’s hit her stride.

“His voice and enunciation are so clear. It’s crazy how he sounds exactly like the studio recording. Plus, his delivery feels genuine; he’s not just reciting lyrics, but speaking straight from his heart.

“And this is gonna sound bad, but I didn’t know Han could dance. Like, yeah, I knew that he could dance, but not like this. His movements are so sharp that I feel like my attention is being—”

Right there.

She cuts herself off, reaching the same conclusion.

“It’s his turn to talk, and he wants you to cling to his every word," Haeun articulates slowly. "He’s demanding your attention. He needs you to listen. That’s how he performs.”

A satisfied smile bolts across your face like lightning. “Couldn’t have said it better myself.”

Haeun pictures her scrapbook again, and there are now only a few articles of clothing and accessories that fit the framework you’ve helped her forge. She’s almost dizzy with disbelief, tearing her eyes from Han to look at you instead.

“You’re brilliant, you know that?”

“I do, but I appreciate the reminder.”

She can’t help but giggle. It’s a you answer if she’s ever heard one. “Do you do that with all of your clients?”

Haeun asks the question arbitrarily, without thinking. But you respond in a way that she doesn’t think she’s ever witnessed before, and she’s momentarily baffled by the sight: you hesitate.

As the song’s final chorus approaches, Hyunjin is the one folding himself into the center of the eight-person throng. You can only see his back from this angle, but even then it’s palpable how expertly and effortlessly he molds his body to the modulations of the music; how much fervor and feeling he expresses with every jerk of his spine and flex of his hands.

Within a few short seconds, innumerable descriptors and sensations skim the surface of your mind—but one word knocks the rest clean out of the water, the way it always does when you watch Hwang Hyunjin perform.

Artistry.

“No,” you reply. “Not all of them.”

And where better to find inspiration than inspiration himself?

Haeun furrows a brow, understandably puzzled by this response, but you don’t elaborate. Partially because you feel like being coy, but mostly because you know that any explanation you offer will sound like a confession.

The song ends, leaving your ears ringing with the abrupt absence of sound. The members hold their poses with heaving shoulders, staring out into the empty stands until the stage manager’s voice comes through the monitors.

“And that’s a wrap! We’re all set for tonight. Good work, everyone.”

There is a ripple of movement around the stage as the boys relax. Jeongin jogs over to Minho, hoping to review a particularly challenging dance break; the manager asks Chan if he has a second to discuss travel logistics; Seungmin plops onto the edge of the stage and downs the rest of his water; Hyunjin beelines toward you the second he sees you, because of course he does.

You get a good look at him as he skips closer. Stray blonde locks plastered against his damp skin, tank top dyed several shades darker by the perspiration rolling down his neck, the muscles of his arms actually rippling as he swings them around stupidly, a shit-eating smile plastered across his stunning face.

You’re annoyed before he says a word.

“I didn’t know they were letting fans backstage now,” he hums happily. “Want an autograph, gorgeous?”

“Put a sock in it.” You whisk the towel you’ve been holding in his direction. “Wet freak.”

But he catches and tosses it over his shoulder straightaway, and your heart sinks to your fucking ankle. You’ve seen this movie before. You know how it ends.

“No.” You take a shaky step back. “No, nope, don’t even think about—”

The next thing you know, Hyunjin is lunging towards you and winding his arms around your waist, nearly sweeping you clean off your feet as he pulls you into his sweaty embrace. To your complete dismay, your face presses flat against the clammy plane of his chest. “Call me a wet freak again, go on,” he manages to say through his laughter.

In response, one of your hands wriggles free of its slippery prison and snatches the cuff of Hyunjin’s ear with impressive accuracy. He yelps and loosens his hold on you, but doesn’t relent completely, not even when he catches sight of the murderous expression on your face and cackles so forcefully his whole head is thrown back.

You tighten your grip. “Wet,” you seethe, “freak.”

“Ow—okay, don’t make it hot, what’s wrong with you?”

“Wha—what’s wrong with YOU?!”

As the two of you dissolve into your fatuous arguing, Haeun is no longer sure that she’s still standing here. She’s not even sure if she’s in her right mind anymore. She thinks she might be hallucinating the way everything about Hyunjin softens next to you, or the way your biting tone only seems to nibble when it’s him on the receiving end.

“Psst. We’ve been placing bets on them. You want in?”

Han suddenly materializes next to Haeun, and she would have been jumpscared into a different dimension if she wasn’t so fixated upon the bizarre occurrence before her.

But what if she’s not hallucinating?

No, not all of them, you’d said, like you were disclosing a forbidden secret.

“Yes,” she says, and Han beams. “Absolutely.”

Three months ago. Seoul, South Korea. 2:26 A.M.

On a tranquil Saturday night, you’re sitting at your desk, your knees tucked to your chest, the newest episode of your drama playing quietly on your laptop, a half-empty glass of rosé and open sketchbook laid before you. This is your happy place—a safe haven that the trials and tribulations of the real world can’t reach. But you think you’ve really gone and lost your mind when you find yourself thinking about your job.

Well, not your job, exactly. More like the man who makes your job feel fucking Sisyphean.

You know your way around fabric and foundation better than anyone, but you have never struggled with anything as much as you have trying to navigate Hyunjin. You show up to work every day ready to just put some makeup on the man; instead, you wind up stumbling around the potholes of his dimples and the hills of the veins that run over his forearms and hands like a hopeless drunkard. Scouring the creases of his smile and the oscillations of his voice like they’re topographical maps. Mentally replaying your interactions with him time and time again like you’re monitoring security footage, trying to detect illicit activity in every casual touch he leaves on your shoulder or waist; every babe or gorgeous he throws your way, seemingly without a second thought.

You’ve been trying to understand him and his intentions for seven months now, and your efforts have yielded no fruit whatsoever, save for a few theories that you feel insane for even humoring.

You down the rest of the blush-colored liquid, and as you set down your empty glass you notice your fingers itch with a familiar urge. The pen that you’ve been twirling over your knuckles stills, then swivels; its tip hovers over the last free corner of the sheet of cartridge paper below you. And then it presses upon the surface and starts to move, as naturally as if on its own.

When you were little, you came across a children’s book that you no longer remember the name of, about a little girl with a magical pen that brought her every drawing to life. You decided then that you would one day be that girl.

At some point, the subjects of your incessant sketching became almost exclusively runway models and makeup advertisements. You cemented that you wanted to work in fashion as early as your high school graduation, and by then you already possessed the conviction and charisma of the industry’s most experienced members. Your portfolio was stellar; your personality prophesied of wild success. So your career took off, propelled by the neverending positions and projects that various companies continually laid before your feet.

You stand and pad to your kitchen to refill your glass, only to bring the entire bottle of wine back to your room instead. With one hand, you flick the cap off and lift the whole thing to your lips; with the other, you seize your pen again, not wanting to lose momentum.

For the year or so after you joined the industry, you basked in your idyllic prosperity. Even the doodles you scrawled on random napkins during banal business lunches would appear on some of the world’s most renowned faces the next week. You had indubitably become the little girl from your story; made a career out of giving your imagination tangible form. And what a fruitful career it was going to be.

If only you knew how it would strengthen you in ways you never wanted.

The first time someone called you cold, it took you a while to realize that they were talking about you. The phrase was said so casually and lightheartedly that it sounded at first like a piece of unimportant small talk. But the whisper of cold bitch was then followed by a bout of stifled laughter and what was undoubtedly your name. Your heart stopped along with your footsteps, and you looked towards the source: two interns whose names you had yet to learn, while yours was already in their mouths.

You felt nothing until you were three stops away from your apartment, and then the bottom of the subway gave out beneath you and suddenly you were feeling everything. Only confusion, hurt, and rage at first, but then the other emotions that you’d been smothering tirelessly for who-knows-how-long tore free of their cerebral shackles too, and together they formed an amalgamation of anxiety that closed up your throat within seconds.

As your pen studs details into a shapely jawline, you remember how you’d shoved your way off the subway and made a mad dash into the night air. You remember how you collapsed against a utility pole in an unfamiliar neighborhood, how your knuckles paled around the ashen wood, how your tears tumbled over your lips and salted your tongue. You remember wanting to go home so badly that you thought your ribcage would cave in on itself with the weight of it. You remember begging for air, for you.

By the time the oxygen had returned to your lungs, the streets were empty save for you, crouched on the curb, your face buried in your arms, spent, shattered, and alone. You were only nineteen at the time.

You are now twenty-two, and the word “cold” has become a regular guest in the lodgings of your heart. You never invite it over, but you’re no longer surprised to find it at your door. It’s a thief, swiping pieces of you when it thinks you’re not looking—a fragment above the fireplace, a scrap from the cracks between the couch—and you know whenever you’re being robbed, know that you lose parts of yourself upon its every visit. But better that than acknowledging what you lose.

You allow it to walk away with full pockets every time.

Hyunjin does not.

“Three words to describe yourself. Go,” he said a few days ago, the two of you heading back to the tour bus after a filming session.

You were so used to these irrational inquiries of his that you didn’t bother trying to dodge this one. “You first.”

“Smart, sexy, suave,” he said immediately, but burst into a sheepish laugh at the sight of your weary glare. “Fine, fine, let me think. Ambitious, for one. Introspective, definitely—maybe overly so. And artistic. I’d like to think so, at least. Satisfied?”

The most creative person you knew doubting his own ingenuity was absurd to you, but you nodded begrudgingly. It was a good answer, for the most part.

“Now you.”

Honestly, the thief had surfaced the moment you heard the question, but you weren’t sure if you wanted to inform Hyunjin of its existence. Not because you didn’t trust him—you did, more than you had anyone in years—but because you didn’t know what you’d do with yourself if he agreed. You weren’t sure your heart would be able to take it.

When you met the boy’s gaze, though, the carob brown of his eyes was so curious and so comforting that you suspected that was never a possibility.

“Cold,” you mumbled. “I’ve been called cold before.”

There was a pregnant pause. You found yourself holding your breath. And then—

“That’s a joke, right?”

Hyunjin began to count off his fingers.

“Mean. So mean. Impossibly, infuriatingly confident. Talented, stubborn, strong. Funny, sometimes, I guess, though I’d rather you hit me with a metal pipe than admit that ever again.”

At this, you caved; a laugh erupted from your lips, leaving a genuine smile in its wake.

“Determined. Eloquent. Bossy. Some kind of evil, twisted genius. Contemplative, caring, compassionate. Fearless,” he went on. “You get my point. You’re a lot of things, Y/N, but cold isn’t one—”

He was about to say something mind-numbingly stupid. You could sense it in the air.

“—and not just because you’re hot.”

You smacked his bicep, the smile on your face now an uninhibited, helpless grin. And as he vanished into a fit of high-pitched laughter, you thought you sensed him crack open your door and slip your missing artifacts back to their rightful places.

Hyunjin began to climb into the bus, and you caught the cuff of his sleeve, your feet still planted on the pavement.

“Thank you,” you said.

The tremors of his fond chuckle traveled to your very core.

“Idiot,” he sighed softly.

Idiot, you write, and the drawings are complete.

When you stand up, the bottle is mostly gone—and so are you. You splash some water on your face in lieu of your skincare routine and prod the inside of your mouth a few times using a dry toothbrush, and then you dive beneath your duvet and are dead asleep in minutes. Your slumber is interrupted only by dreams of a world where your theories about Hyunjin aren’t just theories.

If you’d had even one mouthful less of rosé, you might’ve remembered that you picked up your phone and opened your most recent conversation somewhere between steps two and three.

[3:10 A.M.] To: Hwang Hyunjin (Stray Kids, JYP) Audio Message.wav

Hi. I’m drunk and I’m going to regret this tomorrow. But that’s tomorrow’s business. There’s something I need to tell you tonight.

After I moved to Seoul, I used to get these bouts of homesickness. Not in a standard ‘I wanna go home’ kind of way, but in a way that felt like a hole had opened up in the ground below me. I was always ready for it to swallow me alive. I would’ve been happy for it to.

But I haven’t felt that way since I met you. I realized this not too long ago, and it threw me for a fucking loop. I’ve never felt seen the way you see me. I’ve never been known the way you know me. Every time I look at you or hear your voice, it feels so much like returning home that I don’t have to dream of it anymore.

You called me fearless the other day, but you’re wrong. I’m terrified. I’m terrified that history is going to repeat itself, that another home will slip through the cracks between my fingers and there will be nothing I can do to stop it. And that’s why I’m so hesitant towards you, towards whatever this is, because I don’t want to go through that ever again.

So the thing I need to tell you is that I care about you. I care so much that I’m scared speaking it into existence will make it real and vulnerable to all the worst parts of the world. But it’s not speaking it into existence if I’m drunk, right? Maybe I have no idea what I’m talking about. Maybe you’ll never even hear this. So it doesn’t count. That’s how that works, surely.

Sorry if this was totally nonsensical. And sorry that I’m so bad at feelings. You must think I’m impossible, and I don’t blame you.

Good night, Hyunjin. Thank you, again.

One month ago. Los Angeles, United States. 12:37 A.M.

When Hyunjin steps out of the hotel’s tall glass double doors, he’s wearing a teatree facemask, and his bags are draped over the crooks of his elbows like he’s an upper-echelon socialite on his way back from a lavish shopping spree. And then he sees you standing next to the curb, and the situation dawns on him in bits and pieces.

You’re the only one here. The vans that were supposed to take you to the airport are nowhere to be seen. Boarding begins in four minutes.

A soft flinch crimps his features. Oops.

“Tomorrow night,” you’re saying into your receiver, but your attention is on him only, your penetrative gaze putting the dead in deadpan. “The absolute earliest. You’re sure?”

When you finish listening to the manager’s response, you heave a sigh that sags your shoulders and end the call with a jab that should’ve splintered your screen protector.

Then, you start walking towards him.

“Hi,” Hyunjin says, his eyes pleading for mercy. “You are so talented and beautiful. I don’t tell you that often enough, do I?”

He expects you to grab him by the cuff of his ear again, to throw him a retort that’s twice as mean as it is witty, something along those lines. But you merely push your suitcase in his direction, and it is then when he notices that your face is hard enough to chip enamel; that your eyes are eerily, entirely empty. The tendril of warmth that’s always dancing among the subtleties of your expressions, that he’s always pursuing to the very borders of his dreamscapes, is nowhere to be seen.

A shiver travels down Hyunjin’s spine as he curls his fingers around the plastic handle.

Something’s not right.

“We’re gonna have to stay here another day,” you say. “Can you check us in? I have some calls to make.”

“Us?” Hyunjin repeats.

“Junghan could only reserve one room,” you reply, your phone already glued back to your ear. “The hotel is fully booked for the next few months.”

With that, you’re already preoccupied with the next thing, turning to the side to reschedule a meeting. But Hyunjin can only stare blankly at your profile, trying and failing to grasp that he’s going to spend a night with the subject of his every daydream. Though you might be leaning more towards the nightmare end of the spectrum at the moment, considering the way your head snaps back in his direction like a woman possessed.

Go, you mouth, and he obliges.

A few minutes later, Hyunjin is in the elevator by himself. He speculates it’s an ingenious, intentional choice that the lights are turned off, so that whoever’s inside can watch the psychedelic lights of Los Angeles sprawl further and wider the higher they go. But he can’t think of anything except for the subzero nothingness where your irises should’ve been.

Hyunjin’s initial guess was that he crossed a line with this missed plane, but the more he thinks about it the clearer it becomes that this isn’t an isolated issue. It’s the culmination of something bigger. Something continuous.

You have become as familiar to him as the lines of his eyes or the ridges of his knuckles. He’s learned where to look for your feelings when he can’t find them in your face; studied your words and the undertones of your voice like they’re verses of scripture. Yet, it was around two months ago when Hyunjin looked at your side profile and couldn’t recognize you. He’d blinked, startled, and then you’d asked why he was looking at you so strangely, and everything returned to normal. He wrote it off as a side effect of sleep deprivation and paid it no more mind that day.

Except it happened again a few days later; again, not too long after, and Hyunjin began to suspect that he was losing his mind. You didn’t seem all that different—a bit more taciturn than usual, maybe, but you’d been busier than usual, too, your workspace always full of empty coffee cups by the end of the day, the pages of your planner more colorful and crammed than ever. The minor variances never struck him as a reason for worry.

“Stupid,” Hyunjin whispers bitterly.

He replays your interaction one more time. You, shoving your suitcase against his palm, telling him to go check in. Him, fastening his hand around the handle, sensing the bottomless void within you, feeling like he’d been dismissed from before your throne.

As he steps off the elevator and walks towards your designated room, he doesn’t understand how or why—but he can’t shake the feeling that he’s failed you.

Nearly an hour passes. The room only has one bed, so Hyunjin turns off the lights, folds himself onto the armchair by the floor-to-ceiling window, drapes a complimentary robe over his shoulders, and tries to sleep. He doesn’t know why he even tries. He’s exhausted, but he knows damn well there’s no hope of him getting any rest until he has you in his proximity again.

He doesn’t look at the door when he finally hears it open, but the knot of tension in his chest comes undone as soon as your silhouette appears in the hallway. He takes out his first real breath since leaving you at the hotel’s entrance.

You hear the sound it makes. You fall still.

“Hyunjin?”

His heart physically aches at how tired you sound. “Yeah?”

“Oh, you’re awake,” you answer. “Move to the bed. You’re not sleeping on that thing.”

He remains where he is, his chin resting on the side of his fist, his eyes glued to the flickering panorama of neon lights below him. You crouch to unzip something, and there’s a heavy thud of metal meeting cloth, presumably your laptop being tossed onto the bed’s mattress.

“Hello? Did you—”

“Is everything okay?”

A short pause follows his interruption.

“I still have a few emails to write, but everything’s been rescheduled, so as long as you don’t miss tomorrow’s flight, too, we should be—”

The robe slides off his lap as he pushes himself to his feet. “That’s not what I mean.”

The only source of light in the room is the lone light above the entrance, but it’s enough for him to see your face and the surprise etched upon it. You open your mouth, utter one syllable, and stop yourself immediately after, stunned into silence by the sobriety in Hyunjin’s expression.

“Enlighten me, then,” you say finally.

“You really don’t know?”

“What is there to know? That you missed a flight and pissed me the fuck off? Trust me, I’m aware.”

“No, that’s not—”

“So what are you talking about, then? Why are you talking in riddles? Fuck, what is it that you want from me?”

There’s real frustration in your voice, and it’s the first time you’ve shown him any emotion in pure, unadulterated form. With this, Hyunjin understands that he was right; this conversation is heading towards a culmination of some kind, and so are you, with the devastating force of a natural phenomenon.

He wonders if you’re prepared to destroy yourself, too.

“I know how you are around me,” you whisper. “You’re always acting like you’re trying to unearth something, and I figure this ‘something’ must be wonderful, because you look at me like I’m made of stars; you speak to me like you’re serenading a lover. But I am constantly, ceaselessly haunted by the possibility that this ‘something’ doesn’t exist, that you’re looking for the wrong thing in the wrong person.

“I know it’s selfish to ask for anything more than what you’ve already given me—you’re so kind, Hyunjin, and you’ve been nothing but since the day we met. But grant me one more wish, even if it is the last time you ever do.

“Tell me what you see in me,” you plead. “Otherwise, I will spend the rest of my life mourning the months of yours that you wasted on me.”

With that, it occurs to Hyunjin, falls upon and cracks open his mind like a piece of firewood, that you have never been aware of—never asked for—the throne you sit upon.

For an indeterminate amount of time, the two of you stay there, standing in silence on opposite sides of your dark hotel room. You haven’t felt anything like this in a long time, your chest heaving with your heavy breaths, your vision muddied by both the lack of light and the desperation searing through your windpipe.

When Hyunjin finally begins to speak, his words wrest the oxygen from your lungs.

“After you moved to Seoul, you used to get these bouts of homesickness.”

Your mind careens; your heart reels.

“They came in a way that felt like a hole had opened up in the ground below you.” He takes a tentative step towards you. “You thought it was going to swallow you alive. You would’ve been happy for it to.”

You never got to listen to your voice note. You were blacked out when you recorded it and horrified when you discovered it in your chat logs the next morning; the wretched thing was unsent so quickly that you couldn’t check for a read receipt.

But there’s not a doubt in your mind that these are your words falling from Hyunjin’s lips.

“You haven’t felt that way since you met me, though.” He is only a few feet away from you now, and getting closer still. “You’ve never felt seen the way I see you. You’ve never been known the way I know you.”

God, you said that? Did you propose to him too?

“You’re terrified that another home will slip through the cracks between your fingers and there will be nothing you can do to stop it.” Hyunjin flattens his left hand upon the drywall next to your ear; pushes you back ever-so-gently against the hard surface. “I must think you’re impossible.”

And he brings his face so, so close to yours; looks at you with so much adoration, so much tenderness, that you feel the final bulwark around your heart fracture—

“I don’t,” Hyunjin breathes, cradling your cheek, “because you’re not. And I want to prove it to you, even if it takes me the rest of my life. That’s what I see in you.”

—and crumble.

You form fists in the lining of his hoodie. Hyunjin’s hand tightens where it lays over the curve of your jaw.

When you crash your lips upon his, he tastes the metallic sheen of electricity and the salt of tearwater both; he witnesses crying lightning, for the first time in human history.

Present day. Cannes, France. 9:15 P.M.

Hyunjin never thinks when he fucks you.

One part of it is that he physically can’t; his cognitive facilities shut down when he has you quivering beneath him, like his desire to pleasure you is too overwhelming for his mind to bear. The other part is that he doesn’t want to. He’s afraid that the voices of cynicism and trepidation that plague his mind every waking moment will taint the actualization of his wildest dreams.

Lucky for him, you manage to erase his mind on a daily basis with only one accidental touch or an apparition of a smile, so he doesn’t stand a chance whenever you let him between your legs.

“Trust me?” He whispers, imprinting the words upon the inside of your thigh.

“More than anyone,” you breathe, and just this has him tenting against his satin slacks.

Hyunjin used to see you scolding managers or moving racks twice your weight and think that was you in your element—tonight, he learned otherwise. You were so confident that even just the way you puffed your chest out prompted heads to turn and low voices to ask for your name; so charming that even by the end of your self-introduction you had every guest you spoke to eating out the palm of your hand.

Eating out your pussy, though, is Hyunjin’s privilege alone.

He wraps his fingers around the hem of your dress and pushes it upwards, creating a halo of red fabric around your midriff; slides your panties off your legs and tosses them over his shoulder. All obstacles out of the way, Hyunjin winds his arms around your thighs and pins your hips to the mattress, slotting himself between your knees as they fall apart. Your ankles fold over the top of his head, and you’re about to ask if he’s okay like this, but then you feel the hot muscle of his tongue trace over your dripping folds—and every word of every language you’ve ever known is dispelled from your brain and your mouth in the form of a stuttered, euphoric moan.

He teases you first, drags his mouth over you so that he’s lapped up all of your slick, and just when you feel your patience thinning he pulls you apart with reverent hands and begins to suckle on your clit, as attentive to your every solicitation as always. You arch your back so high off the bed that your ankles knock Hyunjin’s head down a few inches, but the new angle is even better; grants him access to more of you.

He reinforces his grip around you, presses his torso right up against the side of the mattress, and gorges: sluices your labia until you’re spilling from his chin onto the sheets; flicks against your bundle of nerves until it’s pulsating and swollen on his mouth; fucks his tongue against your favorite spot until you’re curling your toes, seeing the whole solar system.

“Coming,” you blabber after some time. Tell me something I don’t know, he thinks to himself. “Coming, Hyune. I’m—fuck—”

Hyunjin is aware of the way you clench so hard around nothing that your pelvis hurts. He is aware of the way you’re so dilapidated from pleasure that you’re genuinely struggling to breathe. He doesn’t care. He wants to get the cadences of your climax tattooed into the gray matter of his brain, and there can’t be rests in the sheet music, can there?

He presses a hand flat on your stomach in preparation for your body’s protest, then returns his face to its place between your thighs; starts to leave kitten licks around the edges of your puffy folds before you can finish riding out your high. You press your tongue against the back of your front teeth, emitting a pained hiss as you draw a sharp breath, tears stinging at your eyes.

“Son of a bitch—”

“Trust me?” He asks again, his voice vibrating against your sore cunt, and your complaints quiet into whimpers as you bring a hand over your quivering mouth, and nod.

At least Hyunjin bridles his thirst the second time he eats your pussy open, his lips smacking openly and slowly over your every inch except the one that would be truly unbearable for you right now. He’s so rough and so fucking careful at once like he can’t decide between obliterating and worshipping your cunt.

He’ll end up doing both.

Within a few minutes, your legs have gone slack on either side of Hyunjin once again, and another coil has begun to tighten behind your bellybutton, equal parts pain and pleasure—but he knows your pussy just as well as he does your person by now, and it’s not long before the former is compounding with the latter.

Round two has a faster ascent and a steeper drop. He finds your spot again with the precision and ease of a trained marksman and fixates upon it like a man starved. It has your cries devolving to incoherent profanities and, to his unfettered delight, your foot actually shaking, your heel tapping against the back of his neck every time it comes down.

As if referencing a metronome, Hyunjin matches the rhythm of his tongue to your accelerando. Only when your leg is nearly convulsing does he wrap his lips back around your clit; slide two fingers into the place he leaves empty and pumps them into you until you are liquifying, igniting around him, your mewls lamenting the second orgasm he plucks from your core.

After your body has stilled, Hyunjin lifts his head, his face drenched in perspiration and saliva and you. His eyes travel over the slopes of your arms and the hills of your breasts, over the tears streaming from your eyes and staining the pillow you lie on. It is this last bit that has him shrugging off his shirt and undoing his dress pants with one hand, palming his throbbing cock with the other.

He clambers over you, and the kiss that follows is filthy, your mouth falling apart when he rolls your nipples between his fingers, strands of spit suspending between your tongues before dripping down onto your collarbone. You can sense what he wants in his craving lips, his pleading tongue—and you know he won’t ask for it. He’s tested you enough tonight; he’d rather your comfort than his pleasure.

But you guide his leaking head to your entrance, returning his stupefied look with a watery smile.

“Love me?” You ask this time, for the first time.

There is not even a nanosecond of hesitation when he answers, “with everything in me.”

He comes inside you the moment he bottoms out, your name leaving his lips in breathless, desperate repetition like a broken prayer as he topples off the same cliff he’d dropped you from moments ago. You curl a hand in his hair as he stutters against you, bring your lips flush against his ear, and whisper that you love him too—and the sight of you beneath him blurs he also starts to tear up.

This is the reality Hyunjin lives in, presumably because he was a saint in his past life, and it would be his utmost pleasure to see it through.

Two years later. Milan, Italy. 11:28 A.M.

For the last half hour, a ray of sunlight has repeatedly struck the diamond that sits between the second and third knuckle of your ring finger, and the Vogue journalist on the other side of your desk thinks he is slowly losing his vision. But when he asks his final question, your hand comes to a much-appreciated stop, the fountain pen you’ve been twirling around clattering to your tabletop.

“Where do you find your inspiration?”

As the journalist blinks the phosphenes from his eyes, he finally manages to get a good look at the face of Versace’s newest designer, and he detects something ineffable and warm in your expression.

“My inspiration, hm?” You fall silent for a short time, thinking. “If you asked me this at the start of my career, I’d have said ‘people.’ Their postures, their expressions, their wardrobes. I knew I was a goner when I watched a fashion show for the first time and noticed how the models’ attire helped them harness their innate power and grace—I wanted to orchestrate that kind of symbiosis, too. In that aspect, nothing has changed, actually. I still find wonder in human beings, and not just the ones on the runway. I think it would be difficult not to, don’t you?

“Some time ago, a good friend of mine was having trouble with an outfit for her client. She asked me a similar question, and only then did I realize that it was no longer just people that inspired me most, but a singular person. I had always been skeptical of the idea of a ‘muse’ until I met him. But I could only spend so long denying how he ventured closer to my soul than anything ever had, how he knew me and saw me like nobody ever could. He understood my art. He was my art, so—”

Your eyes dart over your ring, and the journalist would’ve flinched out of habit if he wasn’t so mesmerized by your eloquence.

“—where better to find inspiration than inspiration himself?”

A few seconds elapse, and then you clear your throat and straighten your back, returning to your office from your trip down memory lane.

“That’s the long answer, anyways. The short answer would be my fiancé.”

The journalist laughs, and he doubts you’ll give him this next piece of information—but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t try.

“And who would that be?”

He’s right. You don’t answer the question. But you do flash him an enigmatic smile, and for some reason it reminds him of lightning.

🔖 (send an ask to be added)・@astraystayyh・@like-a-diamondinthesky・@fire-08・@starsandrqindrops・@txtxlz・@laylasbunbunny・@strayghibli・@nuronhe

2K notes · View notes

fakescenariosbeforesleepblog · 12 days

Text

Be my desire.

Aegon Targaryen × Reader x Aemond Targaryen

Aemond finds out what his brother has been hiding from the world, now he can't get over it, he needs to own it, to own you.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them. I found the pics on Pinterest, so thanks to the Pinterest users Mimi archives nat.

Warning: grammatical, spelling errors and I think that's all.

I know I haven't posted a new chapter of the other fic but I've been busy, I hope I can write something soon.

Aemond is like a shadow who follows every or... Almost every step Aegon gives.

In the last few weeks Aemond has lost the path his brother usually does, there's something new but secret that Aegon has in his usual routine, spending a good amount of time out of the castle, aemond has been looking for him around the city, his investigation hasn't brought any good result, there's no signs of Aegon, even his guards don't know where he goes.

«Sorry my prince, but your brother makes it difficult to follow him»

Aemond is frenetic and paranoid, why? Where? What is his brother hiding? Is he planning something? What in the seven hells is going on with him?. Aemond hates to not know what his brother is doing. He has started biting his nails, constantly overthinking about the secret life of his brother.

His suspicious change one night, when he's sitting close to the window of his chambers and sees a certain prince running to the city. Aemond doesn't think about it twice, he simply runs to the secret halls of the castle and follows his brother, he can see him walking around, for a minute Aemond thinks Aegon already knows someone is following him, so he leaves him to walk a little bit further, taking some distance would be good, he thinks.

Moments later, Aegon gets inside a tavern, drinks a couple of beers and stays there observing some guys fighting, for Aemond this is like the top of boredom, he was yawning, feeling stupid for thinking his brother had something better to do, in a blink of an eye, Aegon disappears, aemond goes outside as quick as he can and just sees his brother cloak walking to the street where the pleasure house is.

But once there, he can't find Aegon anymore, Aemond knocks every door of every pleasure house to ask for his brother, but apparently no one has seen him, all that changes when finally, a woman opens the door and thoughtlessly invites him to get in because 'his usual girl is waiting for him'. Aemond decides to follow, and once both are out of a door, the woman knocks and yells.

«Y/N, He is here, are you ready!?»

There's silence, the woman rolls her eyes, knocks with more strength on the door and leaves. Aemond doesn't know what to do, he's regretting being in that place, he's about to leave when the door finally opens, a beautiful silver haired lady, appears, with a big and bright smile that is quickly erased as soon as it looks at Aemond.

- Wrong door, sorry.

That's all you say, you're closing the door when Aemond pushes it and gets inside.

- Where's him?

He asks coldly, you're standing there in a beautiful lilac silk dress, you're afraid, you have never seen a man with so much anger emanating from his body.

- Wh... Where is who?

- Prince Aegon. Where is he? Who are you?

Your silence only makes it worse, Aemond observes every centimeter of your body, your figure, you're young enough as them, he wonders why are you there, are you a bastard? Why do you have that hair? He can't deny it, you're beautiful, your exposed tiny waist makes him imagine how his arms would look or feel around you, your cheeks are rose and your lips are juicy, your hips and thighs are bigger, like huge pillows where he could rest his head after a long day. Those thoughts vanish when your voice catches his attention.

- Prince Aegon is not here, I'm y/n, his protege and lady-in-waiting.

- Where did you get that silver hair? Are you a Targaryen bastard?

- No, I'm from the free cities and my parents were farmers, they sold me as soon as they saw my hair they thought I would bring them bad luck, since then I've been a slave and now... I work here, in the pleasure house, but I'm only here to fill my Prince's desires, I'm not allowed to attend someone else. That being said, I think I have to ask you to leave, I don't want trouble.

You're standing on the door and Aemond can't believe what you said, asking him to leave, no one has the courage to talk to him in such a way.

- What if I tell you the prince is my brother? Will you still have problems with him? What does my brother do to you?

He's seriously thinking what kind of monstrosities Aegon could do to such a pretty thing like you. He has heard rumours about his brother but never believed them, until now, the worry in your eyes makes him wonder what could happen.

But you're not afraid about what Aegon would do to you, you're afraid about what he can do to any man that dares to be in the same room as you, alone. The last one who had the stupid idea of trying to take you by force is now under the water. Now you're worried about what he could do if he sees his own brother.

- Please, I have to ask you to leave, it is for your own good.

Aemond laughs loudly, silly you, you don't know anything about him, he could easily win a fight against Aegon. While he's laughing you can hear someone walking quickly in your direction, the hallway is dark so you cannot see who is it. The fear in your eyes and the shivers in your body are an alarm for Aemond who stops laughing.

- Y/N?!

- Aegon!

You're running to him when a long hand takes you by the arm, your body is now pressed against Aemond's body and a dagger is over your neck, you can feel a bulge growing right behind your butt and the dagger almost cutting your skin.

Aegon is terrified by the scene, it is as if the most precious and valuable thing was in danger.

- Brother.

That's all Aemond says, suddenly the horrified expression in Aegon's face changes to another more relaxed.

- How did you find this place?

- I've been following you, I thought you were doing something wrong but now I see it's just you and a new whore.

While Aemond says the last sentence he makes you be closer to him, he just wants you to feel the desire you're waking up in him.

- She's mine, she's not like the other women before, she's my woman.

- You already have a woman, your wife.

- A choice I didn't make, Y/N is the woman I'm choosing, the one I want, she's my secret and now that you know it, I would like you to stay away from her.

The dagger disappears from your neck and releases you, you walk quickly to Aegon, hiding your face in his neck, he instantly hugs you, kisses the top of your head.

- As you wish, brother.

He makes a small reverence and then looks at you, smiling, you can see the evil in the way he takes your hand and kisses it.

- My lady.

You hide your hand quickly and Aegon hugs you tightly, Aemond simply disappears in the shadow, you and Aegon continue doing your usual activities, before he leaves he almost begs you to not let Aemond come in never again, you were concerned about his strange petition, why is he so worried about Aemond? He talked about his fears days later.

After some weeks you find yourself in almost the same situation, you came into your usual room when a tall man with a patch over his eye took you by surprise, you gasped, unable to scream, he quickly pressed his mouth against yours, you pushed him away and before you could slap him, he took your forearm.

- Don't touch me! Don't! Leave me! I'll tell Aegon about this!

You yell at him while he has you between his arms, smelling your hair, feeling your body fighting Against him, what are you doing to him? Something about you is making him crazy, it has been a torture to be away from you. Sleepless nights, days wasted because he only thinks about you, about your body, hating how you quickly ran to Aegon, how quickly you perceive him as an enemy and Aegon as a hero, in Aemond's opinion, his brother is nothing more than a drunk spoiled prince, but you, you have your own perception of him, Aemond can just remember the way you looked at his brother, full of devotion, desire and mostly love, love, love.

He lets you go and you run close to the balcony, he stays there, observing you, still savouring the taste of your lips, you look lovely with those scary Bambi eyes. The urgency to let you know he doesn't want to hurt you is growing inside him, what kind of spell you put over him?

- I apologize, it is not my intention to scare you, my lady, please come here.

You neglect, standing up but still away from him.

- He doesn't want you here. You have to go.

- Why does he want me away from you? What are you two hiding from me?

- We're not hiding anything, he simply doesn't want you to steal me from him, I'm his only escape.

- I fear I do not understand what you're saying.

- He thinks you only want to take his place in everything and trust me, my prince, Aegon would gladly give you his place just to be free from the court but he can't. I'm the only thing he actually chose and wanted, he wishes to keep me away from you and all those things that torture him every day.

Aemond never thought he could be so obvious about his ambitions, it's good to know Aegon doesn't wish to rule, but something in the way you're watching him, with hate, disgusted, is killing him, he feels frustrated, he's clearly a better man for you, all his life he has been trying to prove he's better than his brother and constantly finds himself angry, frustrated because no one can see it.

- Hmm, if he doesn't want me close to you or touching you, I won't, I will be at a fair distance, but he didn't put a rule about looking at you. Didn't he?

He's right, Aegon never mentioned something like that, it's not a sin, men look at you all the time, for you that's fine as long as you can keep peace in Aegon's heart.

Since then, when you're with the rest of the girls in the house, dancing, singing or Walking around, you can feel his eye on you, at first it was uncomfortable but later, you started to enjoy the power you have over him, the way he devours your body without touching, that frustrated look and him incapable to be around you, you know he will not resist his urgency but you're ready for it, you don't hide secrets to Aegon, you told him what was going on and what would you do if it happened.

Meanwhile you enjoy your nights in the comfort of Aegon's arms, he's the one you love, you don't care about Aemond, you know he's just a brat trying to steal someone else's toys, some nights you wake up anxious, you're playing with fire, you can enjoy the company of one man and torture the other one, but eventually this little game will bring trouble, tragedy and pain.

Aegon always caresses your back and your hair, bringing you peace to your heart, whispering in a soft voice how much he loves you and how he will protect you as long as he's strong and healthy.

Gods punished you for playing a dangerous game with the Targaryen brothers.

As soon as you heard about the tragedy the king suffered in battle, you knew it, you felt it. Aemond Targaryen appeared in your door once again and this time there was no one who could protect you from the prince and his desires.

191 notes · View notes

justporo · 10 months

Text

Sweet Things

You've been brooding all day, even Astarion is at a loss on how to pull you out of it - until he offers you a sweet treat, with lots of bickering of course.

MASTERLIST | AO3

Author's Note: Written for the Hot Chocolate/Mulled Wine" prompt of the BG3 Winter Holiday challenge. Honestly my favourite piece I've written so far for the challenge - let's see if it will stay this way.

Pairing: Astarion/GN!Tav (You) Warnings: none Wordcount: 1,6k

~~~

You had been in a bad mood the whole day with no particular reason for it. And nothing was able to lift your mood. Not even your vampire and his usual shenanigans had been able to pull you out of your puddle of negative feelings. Especially when Astarion had suggested you come with him into the city to run some errands.

The usual excitement you felt to go outside during the crispy cold but beautiful winter weather, to walk through the snow and see the lights in the city - it was non-existent today. In fact, you had taken one look out of the tall living room window, scowled and Astarion had thrown a little fit about how ‘you made him venture forth into the perils of the winter smitten city so the two of you may yet survive the bitter cold’. But even his histrionics, little pout and round red eyes had done nothing to change your mind.

Astarjon had sighed in defeat: “Alright, my love, you go and soak in your bad mood as long as you can, I'll wrangle you out of it soon enough.” “Don't threaten me with a good time, Astarion”, you had replied dryly but the vampire had just smirked. A plan had undoubtedly been set into motion. After that he had been off to go into the city - of course not without coming over to you, cupping your face softly and pressing a kiss to your lips.

Afterwards you had tried to make your peace with your bad mood and had curled up on the couch in front of the fireplace, just staring into the flickering flames.

A while later you heard Astarion return to your shared home.

“I've returned from the hunt, my love, and I bring you some bounty”, the vampire declared. You turned around to see him standing in the doorframe with a huge grin and an inconspicuously looking bag in his hand. You saw some melting snowflakes glisten in his curls. He looked very proud of himself with how he let the bag dangle in front of you, one eyebrow lifted inquisitively.

Oh, you knew he was daring you to ask about it. This was one of his signature ways to get what he wanted: teasing you by holding the carrot in front of your face and then quickly moving it out of your reach with an “ah ah ah” and a fang-baring grin.

And you felt how his tactic even slowly started to work now.

“A bag? Aw Astarion, you shouldn't have! Bags are my favourite!”, you gave back and felt a sassy grin grow on your face. Turning around on your knees on the plush sofa you placed your arms on the rim of the piece of furniture and then placed your cheek on top of it - basically hugging the backrest.

The vampire frowned at you, obviously unsatisfied with your insolent reaction. But he wouldn't be Astarion were he to give up because of that.

“Yes, a bag. And if you stop being such a miserable and yet so sassy little thing, you might even get what's inside of it”, he snapped back mockingly.

“You know, usually this time of year when someone threatens you with the thing they have inside their bag it's a rod to punish the naughty.”

“Well, seeing how naughty you've been to me today, who says there isn't a rod in there?” His grin had turned sultry, his gaze dropping in a way that made other than your negative feelings churn inside of you.

“I repeat myself from earlier: don't threaten me with a good time, Astarion”, you replied with a smirk. Simultaneously you noticed that your bad mood was slowly lifting. Well, he was your soulmate after all, wasn't he? He knew all the tricks.

Astarion in the meantime had put his hands on his hips in an affronted manner. You heard telltale, soft clanking sounds coming from the bag and raised your eyebrows at the vampire.

“So, are we sulking or are we trying to outwit me, eh?”, he commented with a little sneer, but you knew he was only teasing. “Can you at least decide what your mood is?”, he continued when you first made big sad puppy eyes at him and then stuck out your tongue at him. “It's getting exhausting to keep track of your whims, love.”

He quickly and easily dodged the pillow you threw at his face and grinned at you.

“That's pretty rich coming from you, love”, you answered and flipped him off. “Now tell me what's in the bag!”

The vampire clicked his tongue in disapproval: “You lost the privilege of finding out when you threw the pillow, no you'll have to wait.”

You threw another pillow with a pout but your partner had quickly turned and left the room altogether.

Since you had no intention of losing other privileges and knew exactly that Astarion was way too greedy for praise and thus would come to you again, you just turned around and lounged on the couch once more. You closed your eyes and felt that most of your bad mood had disappeared already, so you simply relaxed to the bustling and rustling that had started coming from the kitchen.

You hadn't planned on drifting off.

But then you were awoken again by the smell of something delicious filling your nose. You opened your eyes and saw an incredibly ugly mug in the form of a boot in front of you.

But more important than its form were its contents you immediately recognised as: delicious hot chocolate with some slowly melting meringue drops on top of it.

And when you looked up you saw that Astarion was holding the cup almost directly under your nose with a smug grin on his lips.

“Something sweet for my sweet thing?”, he asked while batting his eyelashes excessively and his grin growing even broader.

“Where did you find the most hideous mug on this plane of existence?”, you replied and sat up on the sofa - also making space for Astarion to sit beside you.

The vampire sighed massively while he sat beside you and handed you the mug: “You are a ghastly little thing today, have I told you that?”

“At least with me it’s only today.”

Now even Astarion was flabbergasted.

“By the gods, love”, he said with raised eyebrows and then took a swig from his own mug you hadn’t noticed before. “You really do spend too much time in my company”, he finished after he had put down the cup again.

You peeked over at his cup and figured he must have gone for something with a little more kick than hot chocolate - mulled wine most likely.

“And now go and drink your hot chocolate which I so painstakingly made for you, love, or I’ll show you ghastly”, he said and leaned to you, narrowing his red eyes at you. You just made big innocent puppy eyes at him again.

You had every intention to comply - but first you swung your legs over his and covered the both of you with your blanket to make it extra cosy. And then after some fussing from the vampire and some readjusting you had snuggled up on the couch. Astarion kept sipping on his mulled wine and you finally tasted your hot and sweet beverage.

When the first of the rich, warm taste hit your tongue, you couldn’t help but let out a pleased moan and let your head fall back.

“It tastes amazing, love”, you moaned and let your eyes roll in delighted pleasure.

“Well then. Maybe I should introduce some hot chocolate in the bedroom if this is how you react to it”, Astarion commented. He was trying to play over it with his sultry joke but he was obviously proud of himself for having made what caused this reaction in you.

“You prepared it perfectly, Astarion, thank you”, you said now in a genuine tone and let one of your hands cover his which he had carefully placed on your blanket-covered knees.

He looked at you then with a small, sweet smile.

“Thanks for taking the time and the patience to put up with me and make this, Astarion”, you said and softly squeezed his hand. His smile grew broader.

You sat and drank and talked and joked. At some point you made Astarion try his own creation while you got a sip of his also very delicious mulled wine. He insisted he still preferred savory because he already had that one sweet thing in his life. But you saw him lick his lips after trying the chocolate.

When you had downed your beverage to the last drop, you sighed contentedly while the vampire looked fully pleased with himself.

“Feel better now?”, he asked and put his mug down on the floor. You simply nodded and watched as he leaned over to you.

“Good”, he whispered while he kept leaning in closer still. “But you still have a little something there”, he continued in a deep tone and eyed your already opened lips. You just made a silent “oh” while you expectantly awaited yet another treat from Astarion.

He softly grabbed your chin and closed the distance between you. You closed your eyes, expecting the kiss.

But then the vampire just grossly licked over and around your top lip to get rid of the remaining chocolate there.

You kicked and squealed trying to get him off you and stop torturing you with this gross procedure but he had the upper hand.

And then he had jumped up grabbing both your cups, promising to return with a refill of mulled wine for the both of you while you wiped off your mouth with the back of your hand.

“And you call me ghastly”, you screamed after Astarion but you couldn’t stop the big smile spreading over your face.

From the kitchen you only heard the vampire’s laughter in response.

Tag list: @spacebarbarianweird @sunfire-ancunin @tragedybunny @dependsonthedream @tallymonster @magazzne @micropoe10 @aoirohi @my-bunny-prince @lumienyx @fayeriess @darlingxdragon

#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #astarion ancunin #fanfiction #astarion x tav #bg3 spoilers #baldur's gate iii #baldurs gate #astarion x mc #astarion x oc #bg3holidayfluffle23 #astarion x you #astarion x reader #bg3

709 notes · View notes

vikkirosko · 7 months

Note

I saw that your request box is open and I've been wanting to ask

can I request platonic! Charlie, Vaggie, Angel Dust, Alastor and Lucifer coming across a child fem! reader after she bumped into them and falling onto the sidewalk and start profusely apologizing for accidentally into them while looking incredibly scared and frightened just then they realized that the child had black wings and seeing that they are wearing a white dress that only angels would wear and fairly realized the reader was a fallen angel soon when taken to the hotel and ask how did she ended up in hell, the reader first looked very hesitant to explain but slowly open up about how they were casted out of heaven for not following the strict rules properly and that the higher upside expected angels to be perfect and flawless that no mistakes should be made even minor ones and child fem! reader felt incredibly pressured and anxious about the needs to be perfect that when she accidentally fall out of line for making a minor mistake, she was unfairly casted out into hell and why her once white wings turned black no longer able to fly to heaven's gates and aimlessly wondering the streets of pentagram city lost and scared not knowing what to do or where to go now as well as avoiding sinners and overlords alike

Platonic headcanons Not perfect

🌈 Charlie Morningstar x child fem!Reader 🎶

After Charlie visited Heaven, she began to look at angels differently. She understood that not all of them were sinless and just. That's why she was surprised when she came across a child, a girl dressed in a white dress similar to those worn on Heaven and you had wings, but the feathers were not white but black. You immediately started apologizing to her, but Charlie hastened to calm you down. You looked tired, so she suggested that you go with her to her hotel, where you could relax and where you would be safe

At the hotel, you were able to eat properly and calm down. It was only after that that Charlie asked you about how you ended up in Hell. At first you didn't dare to start the story, but Charlie gently took your hands and told you that you had nothing to fear and that she just wanted to help you. You got a little bolder and told her that, despite the external ideality and happiness, there were many strict rules and requirements for angels like you in Heaven. You all had to follow these rules implicitly, as if you had no will of your own. For you, such a life has been one huge source of stress and anxiety

In the end, you made a mistake. One minor mistake cost you everything. You were banished from Heaven and your wings turned black and you couldn't come back. All this time you've been wandering the streets aimlessly, trying not to attract attention to yourself. Charlie couldn't believe that you could be treated so cruelly, but she remembered her father's story. She understood that your story was the real truth

Since you had nowhere to go, Charlie suggested that you stay at the hotel. You were an angel and now you could help sinners atone for their sins. Charlie hoped that then Emily could bring you back to Heaven, because you were sent to Hell unfairly. In the meantime, Charlie could give you a new home and a life where you didn't have to try your best to make no mistakes every day

❌ Vaggie x child fem!Reader 🎀

Vaggie didn't feel happy when she lived on Heaven. A huge number of rules, many of which were far from morally fair, and, as it turned out, severe punishments for what was considered a misdemeanor. She didn't know any other angels besides Lucifer and her who ended up in Hell until she ran into you on the street. You were a little girl in a white dress, with a scared expression on your face and black wings that clearly used to be white. You were an angel, a fallen angel

You started to apologize for bumping into her, but Vaggie tried to calm you down, saying that everything was fine. She asked how you got here, but you didn't say anything, just looked down. Your embarrassment only got worse when your stomach rumbled. Vaggie suggested that you go to the hotel where she lived, telling you that you could eat and relax there. She assured me that it would be safe there, so you went to the hotel with her

It was only back at the hotel, after you were able to eat properly, that you told her that you had been expelled from Heaven for a minor mistake. Vaggie remembered what the rules were there. She saw the sadness in your eyes, and told you that she, too, was, in a sense, banished. The fact that she was an angel made you happy, because now there was a chance that you wouldn't be alone anymore

You stayed at the hotel, under the care of Vaggie. She and Charlie took care of you and helped you start a new life. For you, Vaggie has become a living example of the fact that life does not end after exile. She was sure that you would be able to find your happiness, even though you were in Hell, and she would be there to keep you safe

🕷 Angel Dust x child fem!Reader 💖

Angel did not often see children in Hell, which is why when he ran into you on the street, he was surprised. You were a girl in a white dress and, strangely, with wings. The feathers of your wings were black, although according to Charlie, the angels had white wings, and there was a scared expression on your face. You immediately started apologizing to him. You were obviously afraid, and Angel hastened to calm you down. He wasn't mad at you and didn't know how to calm you down, so he offered to treat you to something delicious. It was so that you could eat that you went to the hotel

At the hotel, you were able to calm down and eat, after which Angel asked you how you ended up in Hell. He said that you didn't look like a sinner, but rather like an angel who happened to be in Hell. When you lowered your head, he realized that he was right. At first you were silent, but then quietly, uncertainly told him that you really were an angel, but life was hard for you in Heaven. The angels had to follow a huge number of rules. You were required to be perfect and set an example for souls to strive for the light. However, it has become a huge stress for you. Your whole life was full of worries, and in the end you made a small, insignificant mistake, for which you were severely punished

You were banished from Heaven, sent to Hell. Your wings turned black, and no matter how hard you tried to get back in, you couldn't do it. You just fell painfully, unable to return home. Angel listened to your story, feeling how sorry he was for you. You were just a child who was unfairly punished, especially so severely. He also understood that it would be difficult for you to survive in Hell, so he suggested that you stay at the hotel, telling you what kind of place it was and that he himself lived here

Angel has taken on the role of someone who will look out for you. Charlie was glad that Angel was getting better, and even more so she didn't mind you staying at the hotel. Angel may not have been the perfect person, but he was real, alive, and ready to help you stop trying to adjust to the ideal that was imposed on you, too. He wanted to help you start living freely

📻 Alastor x child fem!Reader 🎙

Alastor periodically strolled through the streets of the city. Many people were afraid of him and tried not to approach him, and so when a child crashed into him, Alastor was surprised by this. That child was you. You, dressed in a white dress and with black wings on your back, started hurriedly apologizing to him without raising your head. Alastor was in no hurry to say anything. He saw what was obvious. You were an angel, maybe a fallen angel, and it could have done him some good, so he asked if you were hungry, and then took you to the hotel

You were able to eat at the hotel, and only after that Alastor, who was looking at you carefully, asked how you ended up in Hell. At that moment, you froze, lowering your head and slowly starting to speak. It was only after a few minutes that you finally told me what happened. You told me that Heaven had a huge number of rules for angels. You were required to be perfect, but it was hard for you emotionally and eventually you made a mistake. A mistake that you paid very seriously for

You were banished to Hell and your wings turned black. You couldn't go back no matter how hard you tried. All you have to do is wander the streets of the city, hiding from sinners and demons. Alastor listened to you carefully and realized that it could benefit him. He did not voice his thoughts and offered to stay with you at the hotel. He introduced you to Charlie and soon you really became one of those who lived in the hotel

Alastor saw how pleased you were to meet Charlie and find yourself in a comfortable environment. The princess helped you and learned from you about what Heaven really was. Alastor understood that when you get stronger, your strength can help him gain freedom

🍎 Lucifer Morningstar x child fem!Reader 🐍

Lucifer rarely walked around the city, but after he started living in his daughter's hotel, he began to go out into the world more. It was during one of these walks that he met you. You were the kid who bumped into him. You immediately started apologizing and Lucifer tried to calm you down at first, but then realized that you weren't a sinner or a demon. He would have recognized the white dress and wings anywhere. You were an angel, but the feathers of your wings were black, which made it clear to him that you were a fallen angel, just like him. It caused him a lot of emotions. He couldn't leave you, knowing full well how you were feeling right now

He brought you to the hotel, realizing that you had nowhere to go. So that you wouldn't worry even more, he took you away from the others to his room and already there told you who he was. Lucifer saw how surprised you were, but it seemed to really calm you down. When he asked how you ended up in Hell, you briefly fell silent, lowering your head, but then hesitantly told him that after he was thrown into Hell, the requirements for angels became very strict. You, like other angels, were required to be perfect and follow what the seraphims said. It was hard for you to be perfect. Every day, within strict limits, almost drove you crazy

Due to severe stress, it was difficult for you to follow strict rules, and eventually you made a minor mistake, for which you were so severely punished by being banished to Hell. Your wings turned black and you couldn't fly to Heaven. It seemed that if you tried to do this, at some point your wings could burst into flames, causing you unbearable pain. You didn't have a home anymore. You didn't have anyone to help you. All you could do was wander aimlessly through the streets, doing your best to hide from sinners and demons

Lucifer listened attentively to your story and by the time it ended, he was sure that you had been unfairly sent to Hell. You didn't have the power that he had, and therefore you could easily get hurt. Lucifer didn't want you, a child who was so cruelly abandoned, to get hurt. He decided to take you under his care. He knew that you could become stronger and wanted to help you. Maybe in Hell, you can be happier than you were in Heaven

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel headcanons #Charlie Morningstar #Charlie Morningstar x Reader #Vaggie #Vaggie x Reader #Angel Dust #Angel Dust x Reader #Alastor #Alastor x Reader #Lucifer Morningstar #Lucifer Morningstar x Reader

420 notes · View notes

avatar-anna · 1 year

Text

bad idea, right?

As you slipped a gold hoop through your ear, you wondered if you were making a huge mistake.

You weren't, you knew you weren't, but the butterflies swirling around in your belly were making you anxious. This was nothing, so why was your body reacting this way?

"Well don't you look hot!"

You turned to look at your roommate, jumping a little in front of the mirror. "Thanks."

She took that as her cue to come into your room, settling on the edge of your bed as you finished getting ready. You normally wouldn't mind, you and Marissa hyped each other up before dates all the time, but you didn't think she would be in favor of this particular outing. That alone warranted you to question whether or not this was a good idea, but you were confident it was, so you pushed it aside.

Well, not good, per se, but not bad either.

"Is that new? I've never seen you wear that top before."

You looked down at your cropped sweater, the one you'd cut yourself yesterday after buying it. The amount of time it took for you to figure out what to wear tonight was too embarrassing to admit—and perhaps what was more pathetic was the hours of shopping you did—but at least you'd settled for something that was on the casual side. The last thing you needed was to come off as if you thought about tonight too much, or worse, you didn't want anyone thinking you had expectations.

Shrugging, you hoped you appeared more nonchalant than you felt. "No, this was just... something I had deep in my closet."

"Really?"

No. "Really."

Having snagged the last earring in the set of holes on your right ear, you moved to the left. You pretended to focus hard on your task, even though you could've done it without the mirror, but now you were trying to hide your blush from your roommate. If she sensed something was off, she'd keep questioning you, and you really couldn't have that.

"I didn't even know you were going out tonight," she said. From the reflection in the mirror, you saw her eye your outfit one more time. "Where are you going again?"

"I never said," you told her. "It was kind of a last minute thing. Someone from class invited me."

"Like a date?" Marissa asked you. "Wait. Is this who you've been going out for coffee with the last few days?"

You winced, your hand having slipped and stabbed your ear on accident. You didn't realize your roommate had been keeping such close tabs on you, which was probably a good thing seeing as you lived in a big city together. But you hoped Marissa wasn't too perceptive. She'd kill you if she knew. So you put on your best smirk and said, "Could be."

Marissa kept peppering you with questions about the "mystery man," but you wouldn't budge. You couldn't. Finally done with jewelry, you turned around and presented yourself to her. "How do I look?"

"Like whoever you're seeing tonight is gonna fall to their knees when they see you," Marissa said.

"Perfect," you said. That was exactly what you were going for.

On your way out, the anxiety in the pit of your stomach continued to build, messing with your head and making you think this whole thing was a bad idea. It probably was, but maybe it wasn't. But then again...

"Fuck it, it's fine," you muttered. Then, over your shoulder, you called out to your roommate, "Don't wait up for me!"

"Text me at 12:30 so I know you're still alive!" Marissa called back from the couch where she was watching, re-watching, Pride and Prejudice. "And don't do anything I wouldn't do!"

Too late for that.

*.*

"Thanks for coming over."

You nodded as you took a sip of your wine. "Thanks for inviting me."

Harry grinned before sipping from his own glass. "This isn't weird, is it? I know inviting you over for dinner seems a little forward, but I feel like enough time has passed that we can catch up as friends, right?"

Friends. You really were an idiot. You'd been stupid enough to think that after the first few catch-up coffee dates, this might've been more, which was completely insane. You and Harry broke up almost two years ago now. When he texted you saying he'd moved back to the city, you agreed to see him and catch up, as any two people who used to know each other would. Then it happened a few more times, and then he texted you asking to come to his place for dinner, and you'd been confused but intrigued. Now you just felt silly.

"Y—Yeah. Of course. So, um, how—how are you?"

"Good. Just, you know, getting settled in the new apartment and finding my footing as a proper adult here and not a student. Did you know the Thai restaurant on 28th closed? I went..."

You listened to Harry as he spoke about moving back to the city, your eyes focusing on different parts of his face as you tried to determine which parts of him had changed and which stayed the same. Overall, he looked a little older, but that made sense seeing as a lot of time had passed since you'd last seen him. He had stubble on his cheeks and around his mouth as if he was trying to grow a mustache, something he definitely couldn't do when you were with him. His hair wasn't long anymore, but curled around his ears and reached just past the nape of his neck. He looked tanner, more muscular, more handsome. You could only hope he was thinking you looked more beautiful too.

"—about you?"

"Huh?" You hadn't realized that you zoned out the last few minutes.

Harry grinned, like he knew you'd gotten caught up in staring at him. "I was asking how you've been? Good, I hope? I mean, since I saw you two days ago, I mean."

Nodding, you took another sip of your wine, yet another thing that had changed since you were together. In school, it was whatever you could afford from the off-campus corner store. Now you were drinking from a bottle that had to be expensive. You couldn't even pronounce the label when Harry showed it to you.

"Good, I guess," you said. "Still in school, still working."

"At the MET, right?" Harry asked.

"Yeah. I'm doing guided tours right now, but once I get my master's I can start doing more research-based stuff."

"That's exciting. I know you've always wanted to work there," Harry said, inching closer to you on the sofa. It was currently the only piece of furniture set up in his apartment besides his bed. He'd apologized when you arrived thirty minutes ago. You didn't mind, though maybe you should've. Maybe this really was just a catch-up, not a hookup. When Harry invited you to come over, you thought there might've been some subliminal messaging, but he hadn't made a move, and the less-than-put-together apartment screamed that he wasn't trying to impress you.

Promptly, you attempted to drown your shame and embarrassment with a longer sip of wine.

"Thanks. You should stop by sometime. I get to give out free tours."

"I'd be happy to."

He hadn't done anything wrong, but now you just felt like an idiot. The entire time you were getting ready, you wondered where tonight would lead, debated if you should cancel or not because of said wondering. And in the end, maybe you should've because if tonight had told you anything so far, it was that you were hung up on your ex and all he thought of you was someone who could get him into the MET for free.

Tonight really had been a bad idea. Maybe even a terrible one.

"Um, is your restroom through there?" you asked, pointing at the shut door closest to you.

Harry looked over his shoulder to where you were pointing. "Yeah. Sorry, should've mentioned that earlier."

Setting your glass down on the floor, you stood up and hurried to the bathroom. You sat down on the closed lid of the toilet and pulled your phone out of your purse and shot a frantic text to Marissa.

You: i need you to call me with a fake emergency in five minutes.

Marissa: what? why? what's wrong?

You: i was an idiot

You: i'll explain when i get back

Marissa: five minutes?

You: make it four

Putting your phone away, you turned the faucet on so it seemed like you really had used the restroom. Now that Marissa was going to bail you out, all you had to do was finish your wine—it was really good, to be fair, so that wouldn't be a problem—and wait for her call. This night was not going in the direction you expected, and it was probably for the best to cut it short instead of letting it drag on. Dinner smelled amazing, and you'd wanted to share a meal with Harry more than anything, but now you just wanted to go home and wallow in your own stupidity.

When you came out of the bathroom, Harry was standing in his small kitchenette in front of the stove, stirring something that smelled delicious in a saucepan. With his back turned, you let yourself stare unabashedly for a few seconds before picking up your wine glass and polishing off its contents. With the small clink of the glass being set on the counter, Harry turned around, dimples set deep in his cheeks as he grinned at you.

"Dinner should be ready in a few," he said. "Here, come taste."

You knew you shouldn't have, you'd already made enough slip-ups tonight as it was, but you walked the few steps to his side anyway, opening your mouth when he raised a spoon to your lips.

"Wow," you said, honest shock in your voice when you tasted what he'd given you.

"Good, right? I've picked up a couple tricks over the years," he said, pulling the towel off his shoulder and reaching down to open the stove and pull out a pan.

"Yeah, you could never cook like this when we—Is that lasagna?"

For the first time tonight, Harry seemed sheepish. "Yeah. I was kind of hoping it was still your favorite. You used to love the one from that small Italian place a couple blocks from campus."

Had you read the situation wrong? Harry wouldn't have just made what he thought was your favorite dish on a whim. It was possible he still considered this thing you were doing platonic, but you foolishly hoped you weren't the only one who had expectations.

"Y/n?"

"I—"

Before you could say anything, your phone rang. Damn it, you thought, pulling your phone out of your purse. You answered it, trying to quickly come up with a way to call off the fake emergency. "Hey, listen, now's not a good—"

"I'm locked out of our apartment!" Marissa cried dramatically. If Harry hadn't been watching you, you would've rolled your eyes. You loved your roommate, but she didn't need to wail. "You need to come back immediately or I'll freeze to death!"

"It's the middle of July, M," you said, trying to put some intention in your voice to let her know you were fine.

"You know I have poor circulation and it makes me cold!"

"Have you tried calling the super?"

"I need you!" she wailed again.

"Okay, okay. I'm on my way," you finally said. "See you in a few."

When you hung up, you looked up at Harry, apology dying on your lips when you saw the disappointed look on his face.

"That bad, huh?"

You knew he wasn't talking about the phone call. "Maybe it's just me, but things feel awkward between us. I think we should stick to coffee from now on, you know? That seems a lot more friendly than—"

If you'd had any doubts about where Harry's mind had been regarding tonight, they were completely wiped away when he surged forward and kissed you.

You told yourself the gasp was because you were surprised, not because it felt so good to kiss him again after so much time had passed, though that did not go unnoticed by you. Everything about his lips on yours felt achingly familiar. Harry parted your mouth with ease, his hands sliding down your waist and gripping firmly. Your body reacted almost of its own volition, every one of his touches garnered an immediate response. When he settled his teeth on your bottom lip, your hands gripped his hair, when his hands squeezed your body appreciatively, you wrapped a leg around his waist, when he finally detached his lips from yours and began kissing and licking a stripe down your neck, you sighed and arched your back into him.

It was too good to be true. The way you felt, how pliant your body immediately became, his hair as it tickled your chin the lower his kisses went. It lit you on fire, made you want to burn brighter.

"Har—Harry—"

You didn't even know what you were going to say, but Harry took it as you needing him. He raised his head back to yours, taking your bottom lip between his own and sucking, his thumbs dipping below the waistline of your jeans casually. You leaned into the kiss, wanting more of the fire and intensity from the first one, but Harry wouldn't move any faster. His kiss was slower now, more drawn out, like he was attempting to taste every inch of your lips and savor it. It left you even more breathless than before.

"You thought I didn't want this? Want you?" he said, his teeth nipping at a spot where the zipper on your sweater opened.

"I—"

"Thought that the smell of my favorite perfume on you wouldn't drive me absolutely mad the second you walked through the door? I've been trying to be polite. I've been trying to be a gentleman because it's been so long, but maybe we can skip the pleasantries, hm? What do you think, mon rêve?"

It all became too much as he began to grind his hips against yours. He was still taking his time, as if there was nowhere else he'd rather be at the moment, and to be honest, you didn't want to be anywhere else, either. Using the nickname he used to call you put you over the edge. My dream, he called you, because he swore no one in real life could be so perfect that he had to have been dreaming when you met.

Bad idea or not, you weren't going anywhere. Even if this was just one night, you would make it count.

But the buzz of your phone had you pulling away with a start.

"Don't," he murmured, pressing the word against your lips with his, slowly reaching for the hem of your sweater to pull it.over your head.

"She'll keep calling if I don't answer," you said, obliging Harry's hands and hoping he would understand what you were trying to say. You weren't going anywhere, but if you didn't answer now, Marissa would track you down and come here if she was under the impression you were in trouble.

"Don't go," he said this time, kissing the line of your jaw up to the shell of your ear. "Just stay."

"And what happens if I do?" you asked breathlessly.

This wasn't a rekindling of a relationship, you knew that. Perhaps it was the familiarity of your embrace in a city filled with millions of people making you both feel drawn to each other. You'd broken up a long time ago for reasons that had yet to be discussed, one night wasn't going to change the history you shared just like that. You knew that even as you got ready to come over to Harry's apartment tonight. This was just...

"Two people can reconnect, can't they?" Harry said. He hooked your other leg around his hip and sat you on the small counterspace, his eyes heavylidded as they roved your face. His gaze sent butterflies alight in your belly, making you feel things you hadn't felt in a long time.

Before you knew it, your ankles crossed over one another on the small of his back. Your hand carded through his hair, and you grinned a little when Harry shut his eyes at the feeling of your fingers against his scalp.

Phone call forgotten, you leaned in, but moved slightly so that you kissed the corner of Harry's mouth. You kissed him all over, starting with his cheek, then along his jaw to behind his ear where you knew he was sensitive, making sure to leave a mark, just because you could. You couldn't contain your smile as he groaned and pulled you closer, held you tighter.

Your phone buzzed again, this time with a text. You didn't want to, and you could tell Harry didn't want you to, either, but you pulled away to look at it.

Marissa: hello?? i thought you were fleeing?!

"Are you?"

You held your phone close to your chest, having realized Harry read your text with you. Not letting him see the screen, you typed out a response, then locked it and set it down.

"This could be messy," you said, not sure why you were trying to talk yourself out of this. Or whom you were trying to talk out of this.

"Maybe," Harry said, running his thumb over your lip so that it separated and bounced back into place.

"And you're the one who said we were two friends catching up," you said.

"Friends hook up all the time," he said, undoing his belt with one hand while the other continued to play with you bottom lip. When he fiddled with the strap of your bra, you didn't stop him from gently urging it off your shoulder.

"I think—" the words died in your throat as Harry dipped his thumb past the seam of your lips, effectively shutting you up.

"And I think," he said, lifting you up and bringing you to the edge of his sofa. "I think I'd like dessert before dinner, What do you think, mon rêve?"

This whole evening screamed bad idea. There were too many tangled strings, too many unanswered questions, too many unknown variables. But Harry was already kissing his way down from your collarbone, his teeth grazing your skin in all the spots that made you keen and your breath hitch. Maybe it was a bad idea, but you'd come over anyway. Might as well see it through.

"Fuck it, it's fine," you muttered, gripping Harry's hair between your fingers and directing his path of burning kisses with little care for the aftermath that was sure to bite you in the ass tomorrow.

*.*

Harry was gone the next morning. Disappointed? No. Surprised? Maybe. It definitely meant there wouldn't be an awkward goodbye, but it also meant this really was a one time thing.

Which was good. You got it out of your system, got him out of your system. Last night was just a trip down memory lane. An excellent trip, but it was over now.

You stretched your arms above your head, working out the aches and pains from last night's fun. It had been a while since you'd been sore from having sex, and you'd kind of missed it—knowing that the night before had been so good that it carried over into the next day. Days, sometimes.

Searching for something to cover you up, you spotted Harry's shirt from the night before. Walking around in one of his shirts wasn't what you were going for, but it would have to do until you found your own clothes. Sliding it over your head, you prepared to stand on wobbly legs when the turn of a lock sounded at the front door.

Frantically, you rubbed at your eyes and whipped the shirt back off before lying against the pillows again as if you were still asleep, which wasn't hard seeing as you were still exhausted. Your heart was racing as you heard Harry step into the room, humming as he fiddled with his keys and kicked off his shoes.

You figured he would wake you up, but he didn't. To your surprise, Harry slid back into his bed next to you, his arm snaking around your waist and lips sponging kisses onto your bare shoulder. "You awake?" he mumbled, his thumb rubbing circles on the warm skin just beneath your breast.

Pretended to wake up, you breathed in deep and said, "A little."

"I don't have a coffee maker yet, so I went down the street. There's a latte with your name on it in the kitchen."

You smiled wide without really meaning to. You'd been thinking he'd just left to avoid an awkward conversation, but it seemed like you were both eager to put it off as long as possible. Shifting in Harry's arms, you turned to face him through half-opened eyes. His hair hung in his face, grazing the sunglasses he'd yet to take off. His sweatshirt was a little cold to the touch from being outside, making you shiver a little.

"Are you cold? Here." Harry pulled the sweatshirt over his head and helped you fit it over your head, which still had your hair wrapped in a silk scarf from last night.

When it was on, you grinned at the feeling of his warmth wrapped around you, of a cologne that was foreign to you but just as head-spinning. Reaching up a hand to his face, your fingers grazed his sunglasses. "What are these for?"

"My terribly embarrassing dark circles. I get those now," Harry said, one corner of his mouth turning up into a grin.

"Hm."

You weren't sure if he was in the mood to chat or drink the coffee he bought, but now that you were facing the broad expanse of his chest, all the tattoos that were familiar and the ones that weren't, you didn't want to do either of those things. Leaning forward, you kissed his chest, creating a path with your lips all across his body. Harry's stomach flexed, and you could feel the quickened beat of his heart when you passed over it. It made you grin as you worked your way down and sucked a hickey on his hip.

"You can tell me to stop," you said, just before reaching the waistband of his sweatpants and underwear, prepared to do away with both of them in one go.

"I don't want you to," Harry panted. He groaned at the cold air as you rid him of his clothes. "Still—Fuck, Y/n—Still reconnecting?"

You nodded, too caught up in what you were doing to speak. After a few minutes, though, just as you felt he was close, you inched your way back up and kissed him, your leg sliding over his waist.

"Yeah. Reconnecting."

*.*

"Harry?"

When you came home later that morning, Marissa was already awake and waiting as you walked through the door in your jeans and a hoodie that definitely didn't belong to you. She took one look at the sweatshirt and shook her head at you with a sigh.

"Yeah."

"He's the one you've been meeting for coffee?"

You hung your head. "Yeah. He moved back about two weeks ago."

Marissa slid you a mug filled with steaming black coffee, the smell alone waking you up slightly and bringing common sense back to your brain. You took it between your hands appreciatively, blowing over the top instead of meeting her eye.

"You know this isn't going to end well, right?"

Now it was your turn to sigh. "Yeah."

But fuck if it didn't feel right.

#harry styles #exrry #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x yn

963 notes · View notes

fairyhaos · 10 months

Text

❖ let's get you to bed // kwon hoshi

requested by @phenomenalgirl9 : So its been really rainy in my city and I've been having a really huge work load cause we have a project closing soon. Can you write something with (all that and) Ramyeon + spam + kimchi + KWON HOSHI.

hoshi x gn!reader, 1.5k+ words

tags: dancer!hoshi again not rlly relevant to plot, sick fic, fluff, established relationship

warnings: food, reader is sick, pet names (baby)

notes: kinda incorporated a req into this sick fic that i wanted to write hehe. might also write another sick fic depending on if i have time,,,,

It’s a Friday. Soonyoung gets home when it’s well past 10 in the evening, but that’s nothing out of the ordinary. Neither is it totally out of the ordinary for you to be waiting on the couch, the TV set to a volume so low that there’s no way that you’re actually listening to it.

It’s not normal for him to be upset by that, though.

“Baby.”

You looked up at his voice, and you don’t even seem to notice the heavy disappointment in his words as you rub your eyes, voice all croaky as you smile. “Hey, Soonyoung.”

Soonyoung frowns, taking off his shoes and dropping his bag by his bedroom door, before padding across the apartment and into the living room. “You’re sick.”

You nod, sniffing, before reaching over to the tissue box balanced on the arm of the couch. “I am.” A loud blow of your nose emphasises your point.

Sighing, Soonyoung shakes his head. He crosses the living room, turning on the lights and turning off the TV. You hiss at the sudden brightness, holding your head, and he walks over to poke your forehead lightly, leaning down to look you right in the eye, his face set in an unhappy pout.

“You should’ve been resting, then,” he says, pouting even more. He holds a hand over your forehead, eyes softening when you lean into his hand. “Look at you, you’re burning up again.”

Outside, the wind howls harder, and the rain batters against the windows. It’s been thunderstorming for a good two weeks now, and you’ve managed to avoid getting sick for all that time. But, just yesterday, you’d caught the dreaded illness that had been going around, leaving you bedridden and incapable of going to work for two days straight.

Soonyoung is a big believer of rest being one of the best medicines for colds, so as he tweaks your nose disapprovingly while you try to explain that you stayed up to greet him, you know that he’s disappointed in your behaviour.

“Baby,” he says sadly, “you’re really sick. Your nose is all bunged up, and you have a really bad fever. Don’t you think you should’ve stayed in bed?”

Your face falls, sad that you’ve made Soonyoung sad, and your boyfriend smooths back your hair consolingly. You know that he’s scolding you like this because he cares about your health, but you still really wanted to see him.

“Wanted to see you before the day ended,” you admit, and he coos softly, fingers brushing over the top of your head before he stands up. “I haven’t seen you all day. I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” he says, all gooey soft, and no matter the situation, hearing and seeing your boyfriend becoming so devastatingly soft just for you always makes you flush. “But we gotta get you back to bed, baby. Come on. Up you get. Have you had any medicine yet?”

Soonyoung straightens, standing up properly, and you look up at him for a moment before giving him your biggest, wet puppy eyes, holding your arms out wide.

“Carry me?” you ask, and Soonyoung blinks down at you for a long moment.

But almost instantly, his face is breaking into a fond smile, lips curling upwards as he leans forward again so you can wrap your arms around his neck, humming happily when he lifts you with ease, carrying you back to your room.

Perks of having a dancer boyfriend: he can carry you when you’re sick.

He settles you under your covers, stroking the hair out of your face, lips twitching upwards as you sniff loudly to try and unblock your nose.

“Cute,” he murmurs as he sits on your bed, the mattress dipping under his weight, and oddly, that small detail is infinitely reassuring to you. You want to laugh at how ridiculous it is that he finds you sniffling wetly to be something cute, too. but your head hurts too much to do so, and you feel really dizzy. Goodness, maybe you are really sick.

“Baby,” you mumble, and he hums to show he’s listening. “Baby, ‘m tired.”

Soonyoung laughs at that, nudging the side of his finger against your cheek affectionately. “I can imagine. Don’t go to sleep yet, though. You need to have some meds.”

He stands up, then, and a cold sense of panic washes over you, grabbing onto his hand before he can go too far.

“Don’t go,” you say to him, fingers enclosing around his cool wrist. Your own skin is crawling with an uncomfortable heat, and Soonyoung’s hand is a blessed relief. “Please, don’t go.”

Soonyoung looks pained, and he slides his hand down in your hold to intertwine your fingers. He kisses your knuckles, soft, and you almost think he’s going to stay before he releases your hand. “I need to get your medicine,” he says gently. “I’ll be right back, okay?”

You whine, disappointed, before your breath catches on a particularly nasty cough that dissolves into several more, leaving you gasping. Soonyoung’s hand is instantly on your back, rubbing circles, and his voice is quiet and concerned as he speaks again.

“See? You stay here, and I’ll get you something to ease your pain. Okay?”

Reluctantly, you nod, sinking back into the pillows as Soonyoung’s fingers brush over your forehead once more before he exits your room.

—

It takes half an hour for Soonyoung to come back.

You don’t notice, too preoccupied with how hard your head is pounding and how your tongue feels like it’s swelled up and is taking up far too much space inside your mouth. Nothing feels like it fits right.

Your nose is running really badly, too, and you don’t have any tissues in your room.

By the time Soonyoung comes back, you’re focused more on the box of tissues he has balanced on a tray, rather than the other things that are gently steaming alongside it.

He sets the tissues on the bedside table and you grab one immediately, wiping your nose and blowing loudly with an almost comical ‘honk’. Soonyoung chuckles, sitting down on your bed again and placing the tray on your knees.

“Here,” he says, drawing your attention to what else is on the tray, and you blink in surprise.

There’s a bowl of cup noodles in your lap, the steam wafting from the noodles and if your nose wasn’t so blocked, you know that is would have smelled incredible. You smile, touched, before Soonyoung leans over and turns on your bedside lamp and you gasp.

There are chunks of spam in the noodles, which is utterly delightful because he knows how much you love spam, but also…

“This is from my beloved kimchi stash,” Soonyoung informs you when you look up at him to see if you’re seeing this correctly. “The one that my mother made. Since my baby is so sick,” he says, pinching your cheek fondly, “I thought I really should give some to you.”

“Aw, thank you so much,” you say with a smile, and your voice comes out unexpectedly croaky, making Soonyoung chuckle. He pinches your cheek again, adoring.

“Go on. Eat up.”

You can’t really eat much, taking small bites of the noodles, because as much as you want to simply devour the cheap carbs and artificial flavourings, your head is still, admittedly, spinning a little too much. Soonyoung brings a glass of water to your lips just as your swallowing your fifth mouthful, gentle and attentive.

He makes you take some pills then, too, and you try and finish off your meal. But it’s late, and the meds are making you feel drowsy, so you’re only halfway through when your eyes begin to droop.

“Hey, hey, careful,” Soonyoung laughs softly, fingers tilting your head upwards when it lolls dangerously, chopsticks full of kimchi hanging limp in your fingers. “Okay. Let’s get you to sleep, baby.”

He removes the tray from your lap, making soft noises back at you when you whine at the loss of your ramyeon and kimchi.

“I’ll give it to you again tomorrow,” he promises, and you feel placated at that.

You’re horribly uncoordinated, due to your sickness and your sleepiness, and you hum appreciatively as Soonyoung takes one of the tissues and wipes down your mouth, before taking another tissue and blowing your nose for you too.

It’s a sweet gesture, albeit a little clumsy, and it has you smiling drowsily up at him.

“I love you,” you murmur as he tucks you in, his fingers tracing gentle patterns across your cheek. “Love you, Soonyoungie.”

“I love you too,” Soonyoung whispers back, and the sound of his voice is so soft. “My Y/N.”

Soonyoung is a gentle person at heart, full of precious love and the desire to love and be loved delicately. And it’s during moments like this that you can see that shining through.

Your eyes slip closed—warm, content, loved—and Soonyoung presses a feather-light kiss to your head just before you fall away to dreamland.

fics tags: @jeonginssa @weird-bookworm @minhui896 @bunnyiix @slytherinshua @haowrld @belladaises @moonlitskiiies @mirxzii @zozojella @kawennote09 @thedensworld @a-wandering-stay @abibliolife @doublasting @wonranghaeee @icyminghao @sweet-like-caramel @your-yxnnie @evasaysstuff @odxrilove @kyeomyun @crackedpumpkin @jeonride @kellesvt @sakufilms @eightlightstar @onlyyjeonghan @aaniag @amxlia-stars @raevyng @isabellah29

552 notes · View notes

llamagoddessofficial · 3 months

Note

📚 pretty please?

I shan't give too many details about this one, because I am pretty dedicated to writing it at this point - but Farmtale Sans is on the cards. Here's a teeny extract from the first chapter I've written out.

---

You sat down at the kitchen table. The chairs smelt of wood varnish. You had no idea what you were going to do for food, the last store you recalled passing on the way here felt like hours ago. You had no heating, no lights. No gas. Almost definitely no hot water.

You felt like just laying down on the floor and crying forever.

A knock on the front door.

You jumped out of your fucking skin. Someone was at the door? Suddenly, a bunch of horrible thoughts started racing through your head. Did you get the wrong house? Was the will wrong? Did the key just happen to fit? Is this someone’s home, and you just came in, kicked their carpet and sat at their table? You scrabbled over to the door, rattling the handle and eventually shoving it open.

... A massive, lanky skeleton monster stood before you.

“HELLO THERE!” He spoke extremely cheerfully, but in a volume that made you startle. He was wearing dark blue overalls, heavy black rubber boots, and an orange gingham-patterned top. “WHY, IT’S LOVELY TO FINALLY MEET YOU! I’M PAPYRUS, YOUR NEW NEIGHBOUR!”

He stuck out a huge hand, covered by a garden glove.

You stood there for a moment, dumbfounded, blinking up at the skeleton. He was... how did he get here so fast? Eventually you snapped yourself out of your rude gawking and took his hand, shaking cautiously.

“... Neighbour?” you managed to say. But there weren’t any houses around for what felt like miles...?

He nodded enthusiastically. “MY BROTHER AND I OWN THE FARM JUST OUTSIDE OF THE TOWN. WE’RE A HALF HOUR DRIVE AWAY.”

You paused. “You came out all that way, just to greet me?”

He seemed confused, for a moment, but quickly smiled again, even breaking into chuckles. “OH! YOU MUST BE FROM THE CITY, RIGHT? NYEHEHEH, YOU MUST THINK HALF AN HOUR IS A LONG DRIVE! NYEHEHEHE!”

... What a strange feeling. You’d never before met someone who could laugh right at you, yet not feel malicious at all. He still made you feel like he was laughing with you. Papyrus’ smile reached his eyes (eyesockets?) so much that he had smile lines in the bone.

You smiled yourself, a little. “Y-yeah, I guess I do think that’s a long way. I’m (y/n). How did you know I’d arrived?”

“TORIEL HAS BEEN LOOKING AFTER THIS HOUSE FOR A FEW YEARS. WHEN I HEARD IT WAS FINALLY GOING TO BE PUT TO USE, I STARTED DRIVING PAST EVERY DAY, TO BE CERTAIN THAT AS SOON AS OUR NEW NEIGHBOUR MOVED IN I’D BE ABLE TO GREET THEM LIKE A PROPER NEIGHBOUR SHOULD.” He spoke so fast, but so confidently. “I’M SO GLAD I WAS ABLE TO MEET YOU BEFORE I REACHED ONE HUNDRED VISITS!”

You couldn’t help it. You laughed. “Th... thank you. I really appreciate it.”

“ANYWAY. NOW THAT I’VE INTRODUCED MYSELF, I MUST INSIST YOU JOIN US FOR DINNER!”

What? “Huh?”

“OF COURSE!” He nodded again, as if agreeing with himself. “IT IS NOT ONLY THE POLITE THING TO DO, BUT I HIGHLY DOUBT YOU HAVE IMMEDIATE DINNER PLANS THAT ARE HEALTHY OR NUTRITIOUS CONSIDERING YOUR LONG TRIP! I MUST INSIST THAT YOUR FIRST MEAL IN YOUR NEW COMMUNITY IS A GOOD ONE!”

... You could’ve cried. Perhaps this wasn’t going to be as nightmarish as you thought.

“I’d love to. But I’ve really got to unpack everything first, and clean this old place out. We could exchange phone numbers?”

“I’LL HELP YOU UNPACK!”

You stared incredulously at the monster before you. Was he real? “I-I,”

“I’LL CALL MY BROTHER. I CAN’T GUARANTEE HE’LL BE HERE BEFORE WE’RE FINISHED, THOUGH, HE’S SUCH A SLOWPOKE.”

#then sans shows up and hes hot and sexy #obviously

269 notes · View notes

dstryvampres · 3 months

Text

Come On Baby(Light My Fire) - Neil Lewis x Reader

MINORS DNI !!!!!

inspired by this song.(Light my fire by the doors)

Pairing: Neil Lewis x Reader

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: weed use, smut, p in v, unprotected sex, sex while high, reader likes the doors sorry I forced that on you

Summary: Neil always comes after his shift to visit you on your late night shift, today he decides to bite the bullet and finally buy a CD from the store, and also ask you out I guess.

A/N: I've been on a huge doors kick recently and I really just wanted to force it onto you guys, and also neil because I love him. love my two male wives neil lewis and Jim Morrison xoxo

Exactly on time, 9:06pm, is when Neil Lewis prances into your store. The ding of the bell on top of the store’s door, every Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday, close to the exact same time of 9:00pm to 9:10pm, was always Neil Lewis. He got off earlier on those days, having one of his friends and co-workers able to cover the last three hours until midnight that Gumshoe was open. You, unfortunately, were stuck until past midnight at your family owned music store, which Neil seemed to take advantage of as much as possible.

“Hello,” Neil greeted you coyly, walking up to the cash register where you stationed yourself for the night.

“Can I help you with anything?” You ask Neil, knowing you absolutely cannot.

“Nope.” Same answer as always.

Neil seemed to have no interest in music at all. Possibly only ever coming in here for a brief chat with you, then a quick stop by the soundtrack area of the store, then the discount area, all while still trying to hold a conversation with you. He would leave around 10 to 10:30pm, only to be back again the next day he could. Sometimes, you enjoyed his company, the jokes he cracked were funny, and he understood your struggles of working at a very niche sector of business. Other times, you wanted to beg him to get out of the store as soon as he came in. Possibly the latter is the case tonight, his big ass head is blocking your view of The Doors: Live at the Bowl ‘68 currently playing on the TV.

“How’s work been going for you?” Neil asks.

“Slow.” Tonight you’ll entertain his presence.

“Really? It was quite busy for a Monday at Gumshoe,” Neil gloats, smiling to himself, far too pleased that his store was doing better than yours.

“Oh yeah? All five of the movie nerds in the city came over today?” You tease, rolling your eyes at Neil’s gloating.

“Actually, it was mostly new people today,” Neil says, turning around to look at the TV now.

“Oh great, just what this world needs, more Gumshoe regulars.”

“You say that like anyone who frequents this store is any better. All that TV plays is music for pretentious losers, like yourself.” Neil glares at you from the corner of his eye, annoyed, but the smile on his face makes his expression more teasing.

“Atleast people know The Doors. Everytime I walk into your store the TV’s always playing something no one’s heard about,” you retort, going back to focusing on the performance instead of Neil.

“I’ll have you know every movie I play at Gumshoe holds importance, and is something everyone should know, even if they don’t,” Neil sighs, “I’m looking to educate the public.”

“How noble.”

Neil scoffs at your comment before walking off to the discount section of the store, leaving you to watch the TV alone. Even on your busier days the store seemed to slow down at this time. Usually it is just you and Neil when he comes in, maybe an additional straggler present who came into the store knowing what they wanted already. Now that Neil’s at the discount section, you know he’ll be busy for a little bit and decide to step out from the cash register to do some cleaning for the night. Mindless work to help you go home quicker when the store finally closes its doors to the public at 12am. Your boots thump on the concrete floor as you walk around the store to put everything back to normal. Letting Neil do his rounds around the store.

Ding.

Turning around to the noise, you find Neil smiling in front of the cash register. Tonight, he’s finally buying something. You never thought the day would come. Neil, a paying customer, and not just a window shopper. You rush over to the cash register to ring him up, excited to see what he finally thought was good enough to buy here.

“Woah! Slow down, you’re acting like I’m robbing you instead of buying from you,” Neil laughs, putting the CD down onto the counter.

It’s The Doors self titled album. You look at him with a quirked eyebrow.

“The performance on the TV persuaded me,” he smiles, looking away from your gaze.

“You always striked me as a vinyl guy,” you take the CD in your hands and open it, making sure the CD isn’t scratched before scanning it.

“I am, I just wanted to listen to it in my car. I was actually hoping that – uh – you’d come listen to it with me after your shift ends,” Neil gulps, wringing his hands out.

“Sure. Why not?” You hand him the CD, “That’ll be 20 dollars and 65 cents by the way.”

“Really? I mean– great. What time do you get off?” Neil slides you the money, you can feel how sweaty his palms are just from the money.

“12:30am, sorry for the wait,” you respond, now leaving the change on the counter to avoid another sweaty palmed encounter with Neil.

“No problem at all! I’ll see you at 12:30 then!” Neil exclaimed, waving a quick goodbye to you, CD and change in hand, before exiting with a huge smile on his face.

୨ৎ

The last three hours of your shift went quite smoothly, a lack of customers allowing you to do most of your closing tasks before the store actually closed and at your own pace. You couldn’t tell if you it was because closing was so easy today or because you were seeing Neil after your shift, but your body felt weirdly tingly with excitement. Neil’s car was parked right outside of the front door of the shop, it was hard to miss because of this, and also because Neil rolled down his window and as soon as you stepped out of the shop he yelled your name and then motioned over. Quickly you lock the door to the shop and open the door to Neil’s car, sliding into the front passenger seat.

“Thanks again for coming out tonight,” Neil said, giving you a soft smile. He then reaches over to the glove box to pull out the CD he just bought and hands it to you. “Will you do the honours?”

“Of course,” you open up the CD’s jewel case and carefully slide the CD into the cars slot.

Neil started driving as the CD whirled around without any noise, before finally the sound of the soft percussion started the album off. You let the song settle into the car staring out the window as Neil drives around, seeming to drive around aimlessly.

“You want to go anywhere in specific?” Neil asks. He had let it get to the second song of the album before saying anything.

“Not really no…” you muse, biting your lip in thought for a couple seconds, “you know for my first time experiencing this album fully, I was high. If you’re not into that it’s no big deal, but, if you are, I have some pot back at home.”

“Yeah, that’d be good,” Neil sighs out, “Lead me there.”

You lead Neil through a stream of winding roads and suburb strips until you guys reach your apartment complex. Allowing Neil to park in a guest spot, he pops out the CD and puts it back into the jewel case. You lead him into the building, and up the elevator. Fiddling around with your keys at your door, before pushing it into the lock and letting the both of you in.

“It’s a little messy, didn’t know I’d have a visiter tonight,” you apologized, closing the front door behind you with your foot and putting the keys on the wall.

“Oh, it’s no worries. You should see my place,” Neil jokes, kickings off his shoes waiting for you to lead the way.

After working off your shoes you lead Neil to your kitchen. Squating down and rummaging through the back of a bottom cupboard until you find your stash in an air tight container. You pull it out of the cupboard, a couple prerolls and some edibles sit in the clear container. Good enough for tonight.

“Shall we?” you ask, standing up and grabbing your lighter.

“Take me away,” Neil says, you take his hand and lead him out to your small balcony.

Your CD player is still out here from last night, you were in a rush to get to the store after sleeping in and forgot to put it back inside. Luckily it didn’t rain and the player is in the same condition it was as before. Neil hands you the CD and you pop it into the player, in return you hand him a joint.

“Let me tell you, this album is amazing sober, but I dare say it’s even better high.” You light his blunt before lighting your own.

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Neil says, settling into the lawn chair.

The album starts up once again, ringing out between the two nof you. This time, you feel ths silence is less awkward.

“I’ve been wanting to ask you out for a while,” Neil admits, out of the blue.

“Really? How long?” You look over at him, a blunt in his hand as he stares out into the city.

“Yeah, about half a year now. I don’t come into that store because I like music, y’know?” Neil looks at you now, only you.

The lighting from inside your apartment behind him lights up his beautiful bone structure, the light of the fire of the blunt lights up his eyes, and the brief light from the city allows you to catch all the high points of his face. You didn’t realise just how beautiful Neil was until now.

“I mean I could tell you didn’t care for the music, but I just thought you were bored,” you take another hit.

“I mean the first couple of times sure, but I don’t know, there was just something about you that intrigued me. You’re funny, and hot, and so unique,” Neil admits, his eyes not leaving yours.

“Thank you.”

“I mean it,” he blinks slowly and then looks bacl out at the city, continuing, “What don you like about this album?”

“I don’t know,” you admit, laughing, “I had a weird Doors phase at some point in highschool and, I guess, the album stuck through even afterwards. What, do you not like it?”

“No, it’s great. I just want to get to know you better,” Neil says, shaking his head.

“Well, what music do you like?” you ask.

“Soundtracks, but you know that one. I really liked grunge in high school, I guess that stuck with me too a little bit,” Neil purses his lips together, coughing a little.

“Never pegged you as a grunge fan,” you say, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m full of surprises,” Neil jokes, sending you both into a fit of laughter. Something like that usually wouldn’t set you off like that, but for some reason, it was the funniest thing tonight.

The winding chords to Light My Fire started to hit when you both calmed down from the laughter, and when you’ve both started to reach the end of the rolls.

Neil reaches out his hand to you, “Want to dance?”

You nod and take his hand, putting out your blunt as you stand. You both push the chairs off to the side, before setting off into a weird unnatural dance together. It was barely together, the only thing connecting you is the brief stints in which you guys hold hands, maybe Neil spins you around when your hands come together. At some point you guys get so close that when you look up to Neil your face to face with him. He looks at you for a couple seconds before slowly kissing you on the lips, it’s soft and welcoming, allowing for you to reciprocate. Both of you break away quite quickly, another beat, your lips are pressed together again with his. This time the kiss is hungrier, you bite at his lips softly, and he slips his tongue into your mouth.

“Do you, uh– Want to take this further?” Neil asks, breaking away from the kiss. His pupils are huge, and his hair is messy.

“Yeah,” you respond, before going back into the kiss.

Both of you stumble through the apartment and into your bedroom while kissing. You feel the back of your knees hit your mattress before Neil gently pushes you backwards onto the bed. You look up at him, he’s breathing heavily, blue eyes scanning over your body hungerily. His lips are on yours again, tongue searching your mouth, he fondles your breasts through your shirt. You could feel wetness pool in your panties as Neil started to drag his kisses down to your neck. His fingers grazed your clothed stomach before coming to toy with the hem of your shirt teasing pushing it up slowly, fingers ghosting over your stomach making you whine out. You lightly grab at his hair, tugging it to edge him on to take off your shirt already. Neil takes the hint and pushes you shirt upwards exposing your breasts to him.

Neil smiles looking up at you before taking a nipple into his mouth, sucking the bud and rolling his tongue over it. You moan out at the sensation, staring up at the ceiling, focusing on the pleasure Neil is providing you at the moment. Your body is hot, you want him to hurry up and fuck you. Alas, Neil takes his time with your breasts, toying with both of them using his mouth and fingers. It’s both agonizing and feels so good. He watches you the whole time, taking pleasure in watching your face contort in pleasure and frustration.

Finally, Neil captures you in a heated kiss again, before breaking off and taking his own shirt off. He places your hands on his chest, allowing you to feel his body’s heat as well as his heartbeat. His heartbeat is fast, mimicking the rise and fall of his chest. You run your hands over his chest and down his arms to his hands, placing them at the top of your jeans, basically begging him to take them off. He unbuttons your jeans, slowly, like he’s done almost everything tonight. Pulling them down with your help to expose your panties, soiled with you wetness. He stares at the wet patch on your panties for a second. Grinning the whole time.

“You flatter me,” Neil says, sliding his own pants down his legs, erection glaringly present. He lets them fall into the pool of pants at the edge of them bed.

Sliding a finger up and down your clothed heat, Neil climbs back into bed with you. Diving back in to kiss you. You wrap your legs around his waist and your arms are his neck. His erection presses up against your heat, and he grinds against you. He only lasts about a minute teasing you this way before he’s discarding your panties and positioning his fingers outside your cunt.

“Please,” you whimper out, and within the same breathe his fingers have entered you.

It’s slow at first, a rhythmic in and out pace, stretching you out as best and he can, but your moans fuel him to move his fingers faster. Soon enough your gripping the sheets just at his fingers as they push on your gummy walls deliciously and feverishly. His other hand rubs up and down your thigh, watching as you twitch and moan on his fingers, watching as your pussy takes his fingers in so easily. You clench around his fingers, back arching at his work, and all the sudde his fingers are gone. You look at him with a look of betrayal, which is quickly settled when you see him slide his underwear off, exposing his cock.

“Can I fuck you?” Neil asks, like his swollen tip isn’t already pressed against your entrance.

“Yes please.”

It’s all Neil needs before he’s sliding into you, stretching you out so nicely as he pushes in. When he bottoms out he’s pressed up against that sweet spot inside of you, almost like his cock is made just for you. Both of you sigh of as Neil stays still for a few seconds before pulling out of you slowly.

“Oh baby, your pussy ‘s so good,” Neil slurs, pushing back into you.

His hands find your waist as he pushes in and out of your pussy. With each thrust Neil’s speed increases, his once calculated and rhythmic thrusts becoming wild and irregular as he continues to fuck you. You scratch his back as he fucks into, moaning as your eyes roll back.

Who knew movie nerds were such good fucks?

“Can I flip you around baby?” Neil pants out, his grip on your waist tightened.

You nod and he slips out of you, allowing you to get on all fours before pushing back into you. He’s hitting further back in this position, stretching out and reaching parts of you that you forgot felt so good.

“Fuck, baby, you look so good, you feel so good,” Neil babbles as he resumes his pace.

You don’t think you can last much longer in this position, with Neil fucking a specific spot in you consistently. He reaches over a hand and starts toying with your nipple again, and thats when you feel the slip happening.

“I’m gon’ cum, Neil, gonna cum,” you whine, arms giving out and face getting shoved into a pillow by Neil’s thrusts.

“Oh– fuck, me neither, cum all over my cock for me, fuck please baby, god please, cum all over my cock,” Neil speeds up his thrusts, reaching his hand down from your boob to your clit.

Neil rubs quick fast circles into your clit. Steadily, but roughly fucking you into your own mattress.

For a moment everything goes black as all you can feel is the knot in your stomach come undone and a shiver run up your body.

When you return Neil is slumped over beside you, both of you laying down beside eachother. He strokes your hair softly before kissing your forehead.

“Thank you,” Neil whispers, bringing you into his chest.

You decide to stay like this for the night, too tired to move. Neil covers up the both of you letting you fall asleep in his arms.

#fanfic #neil lewis #cillian murphy x reader #watching the detectives #cillian murphy #neil lewis x reader #cillian fic #cillian murphy smut #cillian x fem!reader #neil lewis x y/n #neil lewis smut #neil lewis x you #neil lewis my pookie

226 notes · View notes

dropsnectar · 8 days

Text

Bee-men Stuff

Hi Everyone! So I've been getting alot of attention for the bee content I was making! I just want to thank you all for reading! However, it looks like my fanfic might have made the original author uncomfortable, so I was thinking of just making my own universe for bee monsters and other things! If I'm honest, i’m more into world building, and fluffy stuff anyway. So, if I do write anymore stuff, just assume its this new universe! Here are some thoughts I've been having!

Bees have long had spiritual associations with life and even being messengers to the gods. Because of this, you will find that most Bee-man have a grasp on certain magics, especially when it comes to making honey. This universe is set in a world where monsters are the norm, and often live in colonies in forests or their natural habitats. Humans can be found anywhere as we are a pretty sturdy species and there is often mingling of the species. While there are mostly human cities, there are some that are filled with monsters or other humanoidish creatures.

Bee-men are pretty rare, as insect monsters usually have to be imbued with sturdy magics to survive out in the wild and upkeep their large physical forms. Its how they are able to fly and be light, while also having some strength!

Bee-men are kind of seen as an endangered species by other beings, due to their rare essence, so there is rarely an overlap of territory between monsters. This also has to do with their honey making skills.

Bee-men are very good at making honey, and do so in a similar way to normal bees. Their territory is often filled with huge flowers, often magical ones that like to travel about. This is how they evolved some of their magics. Their song, difficult to hear for most humans, has been known to calm the rogue nomadic flower into compliance.

Bee-men are also known to keep normal bees! They often mix their own honey with theirs to form certain concoctions, or just food variety for daily life. Bee-men love sweet things, though cane sugar itself has been known to give them indigestion. Give your local Bee-man jams, or fruit tarts and he will be so happy!

Honey has also been associated with mead, an alcoholic wine made from honey. Irl bees are very stern about drunk bees entering the hives, and contaminating their own honeystores. They've even been known to tear limbs off! But Bee-men have a sort of complicated history with alcohol. In old times, when Bee-men didn't have to worry about their numbers, their would be long, three day festivals, usually on the Queens birthday, where all bees of every class would take shifts working or partying it up on their special mead with their Queen. Their meads natural magical properties also help the drinkers with better speech(Think Kvasir of norse mythology), where Bee-men would take turns telling their Queen and the crowd stories, or share in musical song. There have been times in the past where other beings have broken into the hive to procure this magical mead, in hopes of hitting it rich. For this reason, many hives don't make much mead anymore.

Much like normal bees, Queens are usually made within the hive by feeding an egg Royal Jelly. However, the hive that I will be focusing on has had issues being able to secrete Royal Jelly, as they have been so long without a proper Queen.

The hive has been able to survive due to surviving off of human product, since honeystores have been low lately, but this has weakened the hive considerably.

Hives are able to take a human queen only if they have the proper pheromone type to interact with the hive. Bees communicate through pheromones, which is why Bees are often covered in a lovely lemony scent. Thats there pheromones and them talking to each other!

Bee-men in the hive are constantly aware of each others emotions, and it is not uncommon for them to be able to use their magic to sooth each other. Their pheromones can make eachother(and humans!) Very calm and relaxed(Or excited… we will get to that later:)). If a Bee-man is around a human long enough that he is acquainted with most of the behavior of your pheromones, he can somewhat talk with you telepathically! Although the most this can do is share emotions, and occasionally images. This isn't very efficient, so many bee-men have learned how to speak human language.

Bee-men actually have a really interesting origin! Like how I mentioned before about Bees being messengers of the Gods, their was one who loved bees so much he fell in love with one. He gave it human form and their children became Bee-men, hence their innate magical abilities and somewhat humanoid appearance.

Bee appearances can vary alot! A bees appearance can often effect their skill, and a lot of worker bees or drones share similar features. They have human like faces and are covered in fuzz! Some have several sets of arms, and all have long wings. They can get mistaken for fae sometimes, but the yellow and black fuzz gives it away. Also, their skin has varying textures per where you touch them, some parts are hardened, while things like their inner arms and palms feel more like skin.

Bee-men tend to stay together but there are times that bee-men will leave the hive willingly, or be exiled. In this case it is very important they find a mate or family unit. Much like bunnies, they die easily of broken hearts, and need to have their daily cuddle sessions! They also need to share their pheromones, so it is more often that they create mate bonds with humans. This can be difficult for our little bees, because very few humans are compatible with their type of magic. Its even harder to find a human who is compatible to be a queen.

Thats it for now! I might make a post about their hierarchy and some more stuff. Anywho, if you want more bee media(more smut focused), go ahead and check out @bunnis-monsters ! Also, again I am creating a wider universe of monster and magic stuff through here so if you have any questions, i'm open to it!

#bee monster #bee monsters #bee hybrid #bee-men #monsters #monster fucker #monster lover #monster lovers #terat0philliac #teratophillia

102 notes · View notes

mrsdesade · 4 months

Text

I can fly, you can't

Pairing: Homelander x fem!super (I used my OC name here) TW: fighting, teasing, mention of sxx abuse, Homelander being an asshole as usual playing with your fears Timeline: The Boys S1 Words count: 3,2k Note: this is the first long one-shot fic I wrote please be kind and enjoy the drama, English isn't even my native language so I'm trying my best to write correctly! Summary: Homelander following you after a meeting, after forcing you the night before to be his perfect girlfriend for the media (and in your bed), you hated all of this and you hoped to have a moment of peace for you, but after a fight he discovered what your biggest phobia is.

Leaving the meeting room feels like a huge weight lifted off your shoulders. It's like you can finally breathe again and think clearly without Homelander around. You feel like you're finally free from the burden of having to act like his girlfriend in public, at least for a little while. You exit the elevator and step outside on the rooftop of the Vought Tower, and then take a deep breath of fresh air and try to calm yourself down.

You take a few steps to the edge of the building, looking down on the city and trying to clear your mind. But your fear of vertigo kicked in and you're forced to step back immediately.

You heard the little sound of the elevator coming up, someone is coming after you. You can only guess who it is, especially considering how everyone else in the building is in that meeting. It's probably your nightmare of your days and nights, Homelander.

He steps out of the elevator and immediately notices your tense expression and the way you step back.

"What's wrong Ophera? Running away from an official meeting isn't really from you." he asks mockingly, his tone very smug and his smirk wide.

His footsteps echoing in the silence. As he got closer to you, you could feel his presence, and your heart sank with each step he took. You knew you had to stay calm, but the fear of vertigo and the presence of Homelander made that very difficult for you.

"I was bored. The topic doesn't concern me so I left with an excuse." you lied, slowly coming back to the elevator direction, standing safety far from the edge of the building. You've a secret to hide.

"Bored? It's rather unusual behaviour for you. There's something you're hiding and I want to know what it is..." he can see that you're trying to stay calm, but he can sense there's something wrong. He notices your movements towards the elevator direction and he steps closer to you, his gaze fixed on you.

"I'm perfectly fine. I assure you." you continued to maintain your fake calm behaviour, trying your best to don't look at the edges of the skyscraper.

"I'm not stupid. I can see through your deception. You think I haven't noticed your uneasiness? And I've been watching closely since this morning. You are acting strange, you're hiding something.'' he suddenly steps closer to you, his hand grabbing your chin and lifting it up towards him, his eyes locking onto yours. His gaze turns intense and calculating as he speaks to you.

You push him back with both of your hands, making him leaning back a few centimeters from you. You've to keep your secret or he may use it against you "I'm mad at you for what happened last night. Am I allowed to be angry or not?"

"Angry? Oh, so now you're angry at me for what happened last night?" He says, his voice filled with a mixture of arrogance and aggression. "Did I hurt your pretty little feelings?"

"I've no feelings for you, you hurt my body, you forced me. It was horrible." you pointed your finger at him and taking some step closer, for someone maybe you may be intimidating but for sure not for him.

Homelander's expression falters for a moment, your words seemed to have a genuine impact on him, especially when you accused him of hurting you and forcing you. "Oh, forced you? You have no idea what it means to be forced. You're still alive and healthy, aren't you? How much did it hurt anyway?" he lets out a scoff, like he's dismissing your words.

You felt for a second like your feelings and actions are nothing to him, everything you say is invaluable by his own way to see stuff. You became unable to control yourself and you can't stop from attack him out of frustration. You punched him on his pretty cheek.

Your punch didn't even make him fall back a single step, he looked at you with a fierce gaze and just laughed at you, like he found your action incredibly hilarious. "Ah, that's definitely a strong punch right there. You're gonna need more than that to hurt me girl. But I must say, I'm entertained by your attempt."

"I've just started, asshole." you answered immediately with a serious and challenging expression, starting to attack him again. In the back of your mind you know you can't really hurt him, but you need to let out all of your rage and frustration.

"For real, you're cute when you're trying to be strong. It's adorable, like a little Chihuahua attacking a Rottweiler. But I gotta give it to you for trying." He comments as you start punching and kicking at him with all your might.

You felt even more rage coming up inside your body. You move your hands in little circles movements and decide to use your powers. You can't hurt him, we'll see.

"Don't you dare calling me dog." your powers allow you to manipulate metals, so you lift two metal plates that were abandoned on the rooftop and throw them in his direction, fast, sharp and very heavy.

"Oh, so you're gonna use your powers against me now, huh?" He says with a confident tone, almost seeming like he's not taking your attempts seriously.

"That's cute." Despite his smug attitude, Homelander manages to dodge the flying metal plates with ease. He dodges them without breaking a sweat, and looks back at you with his usual smirk.

The plates fell of the skyscraper and probably are gonna hurt someone on the city, but you don't care at the moment. Your following attack was immediate, you managed to control some metal cords from the elevator and use them as sharp whip against him. You didn't notice as well that in this action, you broke the elevator, you already don't know that but you're stuck on the rooftop with him now.

He can fly, and you don't.

As you use the broken elevator cable as a whip, he manages to dodge it again. "Do you have any idea how easy it would be for me to kill you right now?"

"Attack me then, fight me Homelander!" you shouted in his direction, challenge him and then continuing using the cables, even doing a little scratch on him can make you satisfied, but seems quite impossible for now.

"You want a fight? Alright then. Let's see how long you last." He suddenly flies at you at a high speed. With a swift move, he lunges at you, he grabs your neck, his grip is tight and powerful.

You don't even have time to react, in just a single movement you appear defeated. It's hard to breath now. Your hands closed on his wrist that he's holding you so tightly "That's easy for you, but you've not...win...yet..."

That blonde monster scoffs at your comment. "Not winning? I have you in a chokehold and you're struggling to breathe. How can you say I haven't won yet?"

"Maybe I should squeeze tighter..." he adds, increasing the pressure on your neck. He smirks, looking at you with a certain degree of arrogance. You can feel his thumb pressing harder on your throat and his fingers squeezing it tighter, making it hard to breathe.

The words die in your throat, but you don't give up, you try to lift a metal pipe using your powers, you stretch out your hand in that direction and the object flies at an impressive speed towards him.

"Oh really? Trying to attack me again? Didn't we settle this already? I have you by the throat, you're literally in my hands." he says, his grip on your throat tightening even more, but he manages to catch the pipe you threw at him with one hand.

You stare at the metal tube in his hand snapping like a branch of wood, he could do the same to your neck.

"You really can't stop struggling, hmm? You're just going to exhaust yourself baby. How about you just give up already?"

''I'm not the type of woman who gives up easily...'' you feel the oxygen lacking, the pressure on your neck is increasing and you no longer breathing at all.

"I appreciate your determination... but I guess you'll just have to suffer a little more to learn the lesson." he tightened his grip on your neck even more, choking you and making it harder and harder to breathe.

you're about to respond, but you can only cough from the lack of air. When suddenly you feel Homelander lift himself off the ground without letting you go, reminding you that he can fly and you can't. As your feet no longer touch the ground, you feel the fear of heights overwhelming you and your fear of vertigo kicks in.

"How does it feel to be completely at my mercy? To be helpless and powerless, at the mercy of someone who can do whatever they want with you? It must be quite an experience, hmm?" he says with a taunting smile, watching you with a look of amusement.

As you feel yourself being lifted off the ground, your heart skips a beat and your panic sets in, now you're in mid-air, with your feet dangling.

''Put me down...! Immediately!'' as he rises you are forced by your fear to cling to his shoulders, and his grip on your neck becomes lighter, he wants to give you the impression of falling into the void.

"Excuse me, are you afraid of heights? I guess being up here is really shaking your confidence, isn't it? Trust me, I'd hate to drop you."

From your expression it's clear that you are afraid of great heights, and that the vertigo is terrifying you, your secret is now fully exposed and he knows it. He should never have found out.

Homelander notices instantly how you're responding to being high above the ground and that your secret is now out. A sense of superiority and satisfaction washes over him, he finally has a weakness of yours he can use against you. "Wow, look at your expression. You're absolutely terrified. Kinda pathetic. And all this fear because of an innocent little height? You really need to work on that."

You feel him completely release his grip on your neck and you risk falling, he's forcing you to clinging to him for safety with both hands and find yourself face to face with him.

''Please, please please please! Don't...!'' you continue to look down as he moves outside the perimeter of the skyscraper, leaving only the view of the city below you.

"Oh, now you're begging for mercy, huh? It's cute to see the mighty Ophera tremble in fear. But don't worry, I won't drop you… yet."

''Hold me up for goodness sake, or I swear to God when I get down from here I'll kill you!'' you give in to the obviousness of having to beg him for help. Your ramblings are dictated by fear and anxiety, you are facing your greatest fear in the worst way, and seeing him laugh at you only makes you more nervous.

''Look at you, begging me so desperately. It's hilarious. But I guess I have some mercy in me, so sure, why not." he says with a mocking tone, wrapping his arms tightly around you, making it seem like a tender hug but in reality he's just trapping you.

"Is that better? Don’t you feel lucky to have your hero protecting you?" he adds, continuing his taunting.

You breathe a sigh of relief when you feel his arms supporting you and some of the fear vanishes, but you still remain on alert, expecting some nasty prank from him. Then you hold on more tightly and rest your head on his shoulder, exhausted.

''I despise you Homelander...''

"Ah, you know I'm not surprised. But I have to say, you look adorable when you're frightened and clutching onto me. Maybe next time I should throw you off the roof and catch you before you hit the ground? Just to really see you panic." he teases you mockingly as he holds you close in a loving terrifying embrace.

You feel too frightened and exhausted to respond, so you just stay there, your head resting on his shoulder. But the thought of what he just told you made you shiver, because you know that if he could, he really would.

"Cat got your tongue? What's the matter, can't use that pretty little voice of yours to express your detest for me anymore?' he tauntingly whispers in your ear while one of his hands remains holding you, and the other starts brushing gently through your hair, in a seemingly affectionate gesture.

''Bring me back to the ground...'' you beg him once again, feeling miserable for the hundredth time in a few days, in every situation with him, you always come out defeated.

"Come on now, I thought you were enjoying this little flying adventure? Just look at the beautiful view, you should appreciate the scenery." still speaking mockingly as he slowly starts to descend towards the rooftop, he lands softly on the ground.

''The answer is no.'' your legs start to tremble as soon as you hit the ground, your heart is beating fast and even your hands are still shaking from the scare from just before, imagining yourself falling was terrible.

"Wow, that was quite a performance. You really made quite a show of yourself up there, clutching onto me like your lifeline. I wonder what the fans would say if they saw the mighty Ophera frightened to death by a little bit of height."

''You call that a little height? We were at least thirty meters from the ground!'' you scream at him, still exhausted and frustrated by what happened, you approach him again and point the finger at him, your tone continually oscillates between fear and stupid courage.

"Thirty meters, yeah that's no big deal."

Then he walks towards you, taking one step with each word, a mocking smile still painted on his face. "I think I really need to teach you to face your fears. Maybe I can be your flying instructor and help you conquer your precious vertigo, would you like that?"

''Shut up, you must not tell anyone about this, not to Ashley, not to the Seven, not to the media, not to anyone.'' this time your voice is firmer, almost authoritative, you know what your career depends on, and you can't risk being fired from Vought.

"Relax, your secret is safe with me." he rolls his eyes at your demand, clearly not taking it seriously. His tone is bored, feigning disinterest.

"It's not like I want to tell everyone how easy it is to make you scream, in different situation." he adds with a smirk, as if the idea of keeping this secret amuses him more than bothers him.

''We're not all perfect like you, you know?'' you are as always shocked by his audacity, and you have to take a deep breath so as not to insult him once again, it's really difficult to tolerate.

Homelander grins and rolls his eyes in response to your sarcasm. He starts walking around you, circling you like a predator observing its prey.

"True, not everyone can be like me. But don't feel bad, it's quite amusing to see how quickly you crumbles. Maybe one day you'll reach my level of perfection, but I doubt it." he responds mockingly, his tone dripping with sarcasm as well.

''I don't want to reach your level, I just want to be left with my feet firmly on the ground.'' your response is calm but attentive, you follow him with your gaze as he walks around you, the cold air at the top of the skyscraper moves your messy hair from the fear of just before. Then a question arises spontaneously from you.

''You weren't serious before when you talked about pushing me off the skyscraper, were you?''

''Didn't you hear the sarcasm in my tone? Of course I was serious, it would be hilarious to see your face when you plummets down, screaming your lungs out. I mean, imagine the thrill of feeling the wind in your hair, the adrenaline running through your body..." his words dripping with mocking sarcasm that turns into a dark smile.

''Yeah…that would be terrifying for me.'' you take a step back still eye locked on him, while insecurity makes room in you, you don't know whether to trust him or not.

"Aww, don't be scared now. I know you secretly loved being up there with me, all dizzy and clinging onto me."

''Don't talk nonsense...'' but while you try to leave that situation your eye falls on the elevator, it is broken due to your previous fight, another fear grips your insides, how will you now get down from there?

Homelander notices your gaze shift towards the broken elevator, and he laughs again, clearly enjoying the situation. "Oops, looks like the elevator's busted. Well, guess you're stuck up here with me for a while longer...unless you decide to fly with me, we would get off a lot faster than waiting for the Vought techs, it will take a few hours to fix it.''

''I'd rather die than fly with you again.''

He smiles at your defiant response, clearly enjoying the game. "Hmm, let's see. A long day with me up here, or a thrilling flight with the world's greatest hero. Your choice." says tauntingly, standing before you with his hands on his hips.

''Believe me, it would be terrifying either way.'' you sigh deeply, looking for a solution, as your phone continues to ring, Ashley wants to warn you that the repairs will take a long time. After all, they are fixing an elevator for a hundred-story building, it's not something simple.

"Ah, seems like you're running out of options, aren't you? But don't worry, I'm feeling generous today. I'll take you down.''

''Ah-ah, of course. And what do you want in return for this so kind and heartwarming favour?''

Homelander smiles mockingly at your words, but you notice a hint of genuine curiosity in his eyes. "Well, since you asked so kindly, I want a picture of the great Ophera, in my arms as I carry her back to the ground safely. The tabloids will love it, and more importantly, you need me to get down there. So how about this?''

You raise your eyebrows in surprise, expecting some other much more indecent request (but clearly you would have received those later, once the sun went down). And for once when his request was acceptable, you nodded.

''But I warn you, Homefuckinglander, try to make some jokes while we are suspended in the air and the journalists will have to talk about your murder and not one of your heroic rescues.''

He chuckles at your threat, clearly amused but also a bit turned on by your feisty attitude.

"Don't worry, baby. I'll be on my best behavior. After all, we wouldn't want the media to know about my little sadistic tendencies, now would we?" he extends his arms, inviting you to step into his embrace.

Slowly, you approach him, until you're back in his arms, held up like a ridiculous freaking princess, the media and fans will love it, but you'll hate it to the core.

"Remember, eyes on me, and don't forget to smile. This picture is going to be legendary. Ready for another ride?"

______

And we're done! It was so much fun writing this, hope you enjoyed as much I did! Kisses <3

#homelander #homelander the boys #homelander x oc #homelander x reader #homelander x y/n #homelander x you #homelander fanfiction #homelander smut #the boys amazon #amazon the boys #the boys #the boys tv #antony starr #my post

262 notes · View notes

onlyseokmins · 1 year

Text

a tiger's dominion [2] • k.s.y.

"Some days you tame the tiger, and some days the tiger has you for lunch."

Pairing: kwon soonyoung x afab!reader Genres: porn with PLOT (minors dni!), camstars!au, university!au, best friends/idiots!au, goofy comedy, cheesy fluff, and angst Warnings: cam shows and camera sex obv, swearing, me thinking I'm funny, sex toys, alcohol, food, gym/exercises (reader works out), innuendos, perv behavior from everyone ngl, boob obsession, switch!Hoshi and reader, light-hearted threats, denial of feelings and lots of advice, subpar communication, spicy shower time, insecurity, lots of pet names, mentions of dacryphilia, fingering (fem. receiving), nipple pinching/pulling, slapping, spanking, crying after sex bc it feels good, lil bit of pain/temp play, multiple orgasms, grinding, dry (wet) humping, thigh riding, slight ab riding, face-sitting, slight punishment (?), nasty and messy 69, marking, slight possession, titty job, squirting, spit play, cum-eating, and it's just WET MESSY SEX FILTHY GRRR with a touch of sleepy after-care WC: 21.3k A/N: finally!!!!!!!!!!! the long awaited part 2!! this is such a huge labor of love for me despite the many hurdles, i am so proud and happy to post it finally! i would like to give a huge thank you to @duhnova and @onlymingyus for doing the big deed of beta'ing for me. without their help this would be an even worse mess ajdkfs <3 so so appreciated and a big thank you to the anons, readers, and kind blogs that left so many nice tags on the first part, i hope you enjoy the continuation just as much and look forward to the finale!!

➯ a tiger's dominion ◇ [teaser] ◇ [part 1]

Seokmin's a safe bet.

He's clumsy, awkward, and kind of weird enough to distract people from the fact that he is absurdly handsome and his endearing nature easily melts everyone's heart. You like Seokmin a lot, you really do.

Plus, he's a taken man, and that makes it even better for him to be the one to drive you out to the repair shop. The same one that he was ever so kind in recommending to help you save money.

Seokmin's best boi.

But you kind of wish he would shut up.

"You're telling me that the guy you've had the hots for — mind you, for eons — admits to jerking off to your sexy videos… and all you say in response is 'great'?"

You cross your arms in defense, thankful the car's stopped at a red light when he throws his hands up in the air in disbelief. "What was I supposed to say? And it has not been eons."

"As long as I've known you, you've liked him. And that has been many, many, many years."

"We've been friends for a little over two, Seok. Besides… it's not like I 'like' him like that entirely."

Lee Seokmin. Better known to some as Dokyeom or DK. He's a fan-favorite and still rated number one on Svthub's audio porn section despite the sudden "retirement" announcement a couple of months ago. You're more familiar with the joint viewer account he shares with his girlfriend though — deathbyd1cks — and the expensive gifts they love to send.

They taught you a lot about the streaming world. The do's-and-don'ts. How to gain and maintain viewership, safety, and money. You hadn't expected to end up with mentors (turned sugar daddy and mommy, let's be honest) when you'd messaged his girlfriend — who was single at the time — for advice. Neither had you anticipated being the leading factor in pushing them to confess their feelings for one another.

Nor could you have guessed they were locals attending the downtown city's university, not too far from your own. But here you were and boy — were you grateful to them. Because they were now dear friends. Although you saw Seokmin in person a lot more than you were able to see his girlfriend lately, as his schedule this semester was much freer than hers. Hence why he was the solo figure driving you out today.

"I can't wait to watch this stream," Seokmin mumbles as he excitedly taps his fingers against the steering wheel. "If you're already super dick-drunk now, imagine what's gonna happen when the real thing's in front of you. I'm tingling!"

You scowl. "Why are you more excited about this than I am? And I am not dick-drunk!"

"Because you're gonna see his dick — that you're totally drooling over — in the flesh… speaking of which, you're both all tested and clean, right?"

"It's not like I don't already know about ninety percent of his sexscapades as it is." You roll your eyes at the reproachful tone he uses when saying your name. "Yes, of course, he sent me his latest results and everything's fine. And you already know about me."

You hear him hum in agreement. His girlfriend really likes you — so much that she even offered to invite you to become part of a potential threesome. Not even for a camera act but out of pure (as pure as you can get with that kind of request) intent.

Of course, you declined though. As much as you loved them and were flattered by becoming somewhat of their sugar baby, you had rather strict rules on engaging in any sexual activities with your friends. Or anyone for that matter. Regardless of how tempting.

Until now.

Your head thumps against the headrest of the seat. "Why the fuck am I doing this to myself?"

"Doesn't have to be this agonizing. From the vibes I'm getting, he's into you. Definitely thinks you're attractive."

"This isn't some fanfic where the best friends fuck and there's this grand reveal that they've had mutual feelings for one another all this time."

"You don't know that."

"Don't make me question reality, Seokmin — my problems are real and there's no way there's some silly little author out there with their evil mind deliberately making me go through all this shit."

His shoulders reach his ears as he shrugs. "Maybe we're all just some god's little playthings in the grand scheme of the universe."

"You're literally so irritating when you get philosophical and ambiguous. Revoking your friend rights." When he simply snickers, unaffected by your empty threats, all you can do is shake your head. "I don't want to go off of vibes. And I don't want him only liking my body. I know, I know — as cliche as that sounds, you've got to understand where I'm coming from."

"You want his heart."

You purse your lips as the autobody shop comes into view. "I actually… don't want anything. It's better for everyone that way. Besides, he still has that date this week."

"Ouch," Seokmin winces at that as you get out. Rolling down the window, he calls out to you. "Still rooting for the best outcome, though. You know we've always got your back no matter what!"

A fake smile and thumbs-ups are all he gets before you wave goodbye. Once the car has disappeared down the gravel road, you turn and approach the open garage door. Jeon's Repairs looks like something out of a horror film. A creaky building covered in dust and located out in the middle of nowhere.

Maybe if you were murdered out here, it would be better. But you know that's not going to happen.

"Hello?"

"Hiiii!!!!!"

It's just as much of a shock as the first time when you see the six-foot-two mechanic wave energetically as he stands up to full height next to the open car hood he was bent over. A thin, white wife-beater is barely able to properly cover his large chest muscles. The minuscule shirt is basically ruined from oil spills coating it, the shiny amounts of perspiration from the hard manual labor he performs, and various upper body sinew bulging as he moves.

"Hey, Mingyu. How're you?"

He sweeps back the curly bangs that fell out of his man bun and shoots you a dazzling smile. "Right as rain, like always, Sugar. Your car is too. Fixed 'er up and she's runnin' like brand-spankin' new! You'll be ridin' a beast in the streets for sure."

Mingyu's a funny guy. You already like him and this is only the second time you've met. That's why you can't help but tease him back with a mischievous smile.

"How do you know my car's a girl?"

"Ah," he walks over to the stall where your car sits and you follow, eyebrows raising at the affectionate slap he gives to its side before leaning against the front, thick and muscular arms crossed. "'Cause I know my way best around the ladies. Always get them makin' the prettiest noises for me jus' right."

"Don't let him lie to ya, sweet stuff." The new tone you hadn't heard the last visit makes your eyes widen at the new visitor's entrance. Long legs on perfect display with short denim shorts and a white tank somehow even scantier than Mingyu's. They send you a saucy wink. "Why don'tcha tell the truth 'stead of bein' a creep, Gyu?"

"Sorry, Bun." When Mingyu grins this time, it's all teeth. "Not tryna steal your thunder or anythin'."

"'sides, if anyone knows their way 'round women, ya know who's best 'tween us."

"Although it's true Bunny is our star mechanic and a star at… other things, you're embarrassing me." The door to the office opens and the man in charge steps out, peeking at all of you with a stern gaze over his wire-rimmed glasses. "I apologize for their antics, it's a pleasure to see you again."

He greets you formally with a handshake that you return. "The pleasure's all mine, Mr. Jeon."

"Wonwoo is fine, 'Mr. Jeon' sounds like you're addressing my father."

"Wonwoo it is then. You can call me by my first name as well and please, it doesn't bother me whatsoever, my good friend is much worse, I assure you."

"Gyu said you're friends with MinMin."

"Uh, Seok… min? Yeah, he spoke highly of here."

"He's always been such a good boy." You would wholeheartedly agree but the way they say it almost hints at something else. "Dare I say it's a shame he's now hitched. Or prolly soon to be."

"Hey," Wonwoo calls their name warningly even as he's busy cross-checking your total but they don't pay him any mind. "Seok told us — "

Nor to Mingyu who is elbowing them not so discreetly in the side. "He also told us not to — "

"We're streamers!" they exclaim excitedly, interrupting both men. "Well… we were. Kinda hard to set shit up when yer out here fuckin' like — haha, bunnies all the time, ya know?"

The boss now refuses to look up from the papers he's writing but his partners' two pairs of sparkly eyes with matching, mischievous grins beam at you. Your cheeks burn at their openness but you do smile back.

"I see."

Flawless (despite the grimy work conditions) French manicured nails tap excitedly along your wrist before pulling you in close. "Don't worry, Seokminnie didn't say anythin' but ya know how ya can tell when he knows somethin'? So, we did some deducin' and detectin'. And we're sooooo excited for yer collab!"

"Ah, thank you? I didn't know I had such... enthusiastic supporters here."

"Friends can always be found in the most unsuspectin' of places!"

"Truly, um… I hope you didn't give me a discount or something just because of that."

You chew on your lip out of concern because your car looks polished like brand new and you're sure it'll run great — even better — as Mingyu declared. All of that for the price deducted from your bank account almost seems unfair to them. In fact, you could return most of the sum Soonyoung had given you, perhaps rendering the collab null.

Except he'd already made an announcement on the forum page and then accidentally locked himself out of his account for forty-eight hours. And the post is still up for a ton of people to see and share around the community. Your notifications are blowing up — some in excitement, others jealous — but all in anticipation. Evident from the fact that the people way out here in the countryside with spotty internet knew about it.

And you hated letting people down. Or thinking you chickened out.

Wonwoo finally unfreezes to refute and shakes his head adamantly. "No, our pricing is standard as always so please don't worry about any illegal or favorable treatment."

"Good, 'cause I don't think I can afford to go to court," you laugh.

"It's only fun if yer on a reality TV show, hon. We don't intend to go to court unless we're on one 'n it's guaranteed we can win the case."

"Remind me to never get on your bad side, then."

"Oh, sweetheart — all I have are good sides." They turn in place, swaying and showing off the best parts of their assets.

Mingyu wolf-whistles while you clap along politely and Wonwoo takes that opportunity to sidle up to you, returning your credit card, keys, and receipt. You thank him and he nods, subtly gesturing to follow him outside.

"It was a pleasure doing business with you. Hopefully, you'll consider coming back again if you need any more fixer-uppers. As long as the crew didn't scare you away."

"They didn't, I think they're lovely."

He regrettably looks over his shoulder and you peek along. Trying your hardest not to laugh at the scene of Mingyu having whipped out an expensive camera from who-knows-where and is now snapping shots of their partner dancing.

"Yeah, they are. They just get really excited meeting new people, especially fellow streamers."

"So, it's true, you used to stream?"

A wicked smile is shot your way. "Sure did. But watching is just as fun, if not more. Especially with folks as excitable as them."

"Oh, I'm sure you get into lots of trouble."

"You couldn't even imagine."

"I can't."

Wonwoo clears his throat after that comment. It's not surprising that he's good at picking up on things and reading the room. A nice expectation when you're in any type of relationship, especially given his shared dynamic. After a drawn-out goodbye with the lively throuple, you finally slide into the driver's seat of your car to leave.

The ride back to the city in relative silence allows your thoughts to wander. It's true. You couldn't imagine such a relationship filled with laughter, trust, and positivity. Now you're sure it wasn't perfect, obviously. But that's probably where a good amount of open, clear communication helps fix whatever issues arise.

It seems like something out of a fairy tale. Just as you told Seokmin, a fanfiction plot built to accommodate its main characters and their perfect story.

You're not sure what role you're destined to live out and honestly, you don't care. You're goofy, impulsive, damaged, insane, and doing the best you can. That should be enough in this wretched world, right?

Although you decide it's not enough for you personally and make the split-second decision at the stoplight to pull into the parking lot of Limbo. Your favorite supply shop for some much-needed stress relief and serotonin boost.

"Welcome to Limbo, where our prices are as low as they go, and our products will — oh, heya!"

"Hey, Jun."

The welcoming slogan is always cut short when Junhui's on the clock and you walk inside. As the owner, he's all too familiar doing business with you. He might even consider the two of you as more than acquaintances. Friends maybe. Dropping the customer service routine, the attractive blonde smirks at you with raised eyebrows and leans against the counter.

"And what can I do for my favorite customer?"

"It's not good to play favorites."

"Who says I'm playing?"

You roll your eyes. "As the biggest playboy I've ever met, when are you not?"

"Touché," he laughs and quickly stops the fake flirtatious act. "Honored to be pulling more bitches than your furry 'boy friend'."

"I don't have a dog so you have to be talking about… why is everyone bringing him up today? You know he's not my boyfriend!"

"Because someone tends not to realize how much they overshare and don't worry, dearest. I know that foolish boy hasn't made a move on you yet, hence the air quotes. Shame on him."

"Don't talk about it," you mumble, "and he's not a furry. He genuinely thinks he's a tiger. Maybe that's how he's able to pull new dates out of his ass all of the time without a tail plugging it." When Junhui erupts into more manic laughter, you cross your arms. "Just tell me what you've got new in stock, please. It's the only reason I'm here."

"Of course, of course. Let's see — ah, do you know how revolutionary this is?"

You dubiously eye the large cardboard box he pulls out and starts waving around. "A… card game?"

"Bingo," he snaps his fingers, "except a hundred times better. It demonstrates the best way to find the clit through an interactive and compelling game!"

"Why are you showing me this? I know where the clit is."

"Congratulations! But not everyone does, do you think your friend can find it? Maybe you can buy it for him."

"How are you still in business, your sales pitch is terrible," you complain with half a mind to strangle said salesman right then and there. Your eyes drift over to what's behind him on the wall, eyes widening with the ideas suddenly flowing through your head.

"I thought we were besties, I just wanted to show off goods that aren't attached to my body." Junhui pouts, albeit good-naturedly but you're not paying attention anymore — despite his next words. "Perhaps, you can be the one to educate him."

When you don't respond sardonically as expected, he follows your zoned-out gaze with a questioning brow raised. Meanwhile, Mingyu and Wonwoo's partner's kind words before you'd left play over in your mind.

"First non-solo stream, eh?"

"Oh, um. Yeah."

"A word of unsolicited advice, darlin'? Enjoy yourself. Make it fun. The feelin's can figure themselves out after, yeah?"

After you'd assured them their advice was very much welcomed and that you appreciated another steadfast supporter you know in-person, you'd exchanged numbers. Now, their final parting words before driving off echo in your ears like a haunting siren's call. Bidding you to do its will. Your neck heats up, remembering their mischievous smirk and saucy wink.

"I didn't peg you for someone into collars and leashes."

You're snapped out of your hazy thoughts. "Well, don't because you so aren't. Ever."

"Yeah, yeah. Well, I would have thought you were someone who'd prefer these more," Junhui snickers wickedly, an atrocious set of fuzzy pink handcuffs he'd pulled out from under the counter dangling off his pointer finger. "A more hands-off, no touching approach."

The vision that scandalously pops into your mind is quickly dispelled. Banished even. So you refute by lying and saying, "It's not cuffing season."

"Oh, you're down bad. So bad." He shrugs. "Think of it as a bonus then." You watch in mild horror as he also throws them in a plastic bag. "I'll even give them to you free of charge. So, what color do you think will compliment your boy toy best?"

"He's not my — " You close your eyes, taking a deep breath and trying again not to think too hard. "Any will do. Just give me black… oh, and that too."

A wolf whistle. "Someone's in for a treat. Or trick. Something."

"I will literally cry if you say another unnecessary comment."

"Luckily for you, dacryphilia isn't really my thing. Yet."

"Oh my god!"

"All I'm saying is, this'll be some good shit."

"Do not — and I repeat, do fucking not — make me commit murder in broad daylight, Jun."

"Alright, alright," he holds his hands up in surrender, biting back the endless jokes and puns that always threaten to roll off of his tongue. Instead, he changes the subject to something you're less likely to kill him over. "If things get boring, tedious, heart-wrenching — text me. I can set you up for some decent mixers!"

"By my stupid luck, you'll be the only one who shows up."

"If you wanted to date me so bad, all you had to do was ask." He takes the credit card from your iron grip and swipes it with ease while batting his eyelashes at you. "Tempting but no thanks, darling. Though trust me when I say I have tons of acquaintances who know how to have a good time. And get down and dirty if you'd like."

"I don't even want to date you but… I'll think about those mixers," you concede and grab your purchases. Given the nature of his job, it's obvious he has all kinds of connections. "See you around."

When the little chime marks your farewell and you step back outside, you're not sure how much of a stress reliever that even was. The back of your head hits the headrest of the seat with a defeated thump once you're inside your car.

Damnit, Junhui!

Peeking inside the bag with a grimace, you toss it onto the passenger's side. What were you even thinking? The buzz of a phone halts you. The name belonging to the very bane of your existence flashes across the screen.

"Hello?" It's silent. The line crackles and you think he might have just butt-dialed you until a desperate call of your name comes through via a different but not unfamiliar voice. "Oh, hi there, Chan. Please don't tell me a certain someone's in trouble."

"I'm so sorry to bother you but… yes. He's um… very, very, very intoxicated."

You glance at the clock on your dash with a frown. "At this hour?"

"We went out for a lunch break and he ordered a drink. Maybe two…"

"Oh, no. Why? He knows he can't handle liquor at all, especially at restaurants and bars."

"Like it was great to go out for a good time since he's seemed out of it. And we did try to stop him but…"

"You're not his babysitter."

"Yeah." You both fall silent. You're mentally cursing Soonyoung for embarrassing himself in front of his junior dance team. As their captain, no less. At least Chan had experienced this too many times. Unfortunately. "Um, and… he won't stop talking about you so… I thought the next best bet was to call you."

Your blood runs cold. "Is he saying weird things?"

"N-no… of course, not! You know how he gets."

Soonyoung's more of an emotional, lovey-dovey drunk than a secret spiller but maybe you have too much faith in him, judging by Chan's rushed and uncertain response.

"Yeah, I do," you sigh, "where are you?"

"We were at his place and tried to get him to go inside but," — "no, stop trying to kiss me!", someone in the background shouts in protest — "um, sorry but anyways, he keeps insisting to come see you. And none of us knew if you were home or not."

You can hear the drunken slur of your name clearer now and assume Soonyoung is getting all up in Chan's business while he's on the phone. Possibly to say hello to you.

"I'm out right now — "

"Oh oops, sorry! I'll try and get him to calm down — "

"Wait, so you're at his place?" you rush to ask after he accidentally cut you off.

"Well," he lowers his voice as best he can, "we're just driving around with the excuse that he'll think we're taking him to see you."

"Okay." Glancing around the parking lot you're in, you know you would die before admitting to the young, up-and-coming dance crew member that you were anywhere near a sex toy store. "How about we meet at my place? I'll be back home in about fifteen?"

He agrees readily, apologizing once more with a guilty tone at having to bother you. Soonyoung being a chaotic drunk doesn't occur as often as one might think but when it does happen — it's always an experience to remember. And somehow you and Chan always seem to be the victims of circumstance when shit goes down.

"I'm… I'm really sorry about this."

"Don't be. If there's anyone that has to apologize, it should be the one that caused the situation in the first place." You attempt to lessen the intensity of your glare when facing the younger man. "Unfortunately, that will have to be after he sobers up."

Chan shuffles his feet, cheeks dusting a light pink because he's not sure where exactly to look. After dragging his senior's body out of the car when he'd arrived at your place and then lugging him up to the door, the inebriated man completely melted right onto you and is now intimately nuzzling at the crook of your neck. All while you remain expressionless, arms crossed above Soonyoung's that embrace you.

Something gnaws at the young man, telling him that this is a bad idea. "Um, are you sure you don't want me to take him back? Drive around a few blocks before he passes out?"

"Wasting more gas in this economy? Don't worry about it… besides, he doesn't deserve to wake up by himself with the sun shining through his window and birds singing now, does he?" Your rather menacing tone causes Chan to instinctively step back to leave until you blurt out, "Oh wait!"

"Yeah?"

"You said that this buffoon kept talking about me, right? What kinds of things did he say this time? Y'know, wanna make sure it wasn't slander or something gross."

Being buried six feet under would be much better than ratting out his mentor or becoming the victim of your misplaced wrath. "Ummm… he said you have pretty… eyes, yeah! Pretty eyes!" When you blink them once — twice — Chan uses that as his cue to escape with a rushed "See ya!", taking two steps at a time to scramble back in the car with his friends.

Pretty eyes, my ass, you think to yourself and glower at the man clinging helplessly to your side.

Slamming the door shut a little too harshly causes Soonyoung to flinch and nestle impossibly closer to you. His clumsy hands knead the skin below your breasts, innocently inching a little too high for comfort. Gripping at the strands on the back of his head, you tug him away only to grimace at the inappropriate moan that escapes his mouth.

"Shut up."

"I… said nothin'?"

"Yeah, well. I've heard enough already," you snap and urge him forward until he topples onto the couch headfirst. "What's got you acting up like this?"

His eyes have stayed squinted this whole time even in the dim area of your living space, a perpetual frown on his puffy red face. It's cute even if he looks like he might cry. Although a closer glance and being all too familiar with his drunken habits, you think he might actually be on the brink of tears.

"…me."

"Hm?"

"You been… 'voiding me."

"No, I haven't."

"'course, that's what you think."

"I've been busy."

"'s what you always say."

"Do not," you argue. As a point, you stare directly into what you can see of his dilated pupils only inches away from those pursed lips of his to fluff the pillow on his right. "Had to pick up my car and everything. It hasn't been that long since you've seen me."

"No texts?"

"I'm not on my phone twenty-four-seven."

"Liar. Going without me."

"You wouldn't have even known where the place was. It was in the middle of nowhere and recced by a friend."

"You have friends?"

You sigh in defeat. "Yes, I do, Soonyoung. Whatever, it's not like you're comprehending or going to remember any of this anyways."

"I will."

"Yeah? What's two times two?"

"… Twenty-two!"

You nudge him over in exasperation and he falls down on his side, head perfectly landing on the pillow you propped up while he lets out a heavy sigh that you echo. "Sleep tight, dumbass."

Throwing a blanket around the lower half of his body, you know his tolerance has improved enough that he won't make a mess of the furniture. Shaking your head — albeit fondly — you head inside your room for the evening. Later on, lulled into a dreamless sleep by the even-tempo snores of your best friend.

Drunk Soonyoung is a deep sleeper — easily knocked out for more than twelve hours.

By the time he's come to, he's slept through you waking up early, fussing in the kitchen, starting laundry, and stumbling around looking for your shoes before leaving (you needed to get out before you grew too soft over seeing him asleep on your couch). You don't even bother to keep quiet, knowing the man won't stir until his body has detoxed all the alcohol out of his bloodstream.

He's a little upset to find you gone, the living quarters noticeably a bit chilly without someone else — you — in it. Though a sheepish smile lights up his face after seeing medicine and a glass of water on the table. Plus, the usual post-it note with a frowny face scribbled on it that you left for him.

Like it's a habit, his fingers slide across his phone screen rather efficiently to speed-dial your number, smiling at the profile picture he chose. A candid picture of you laughing so hard at his funny antics you didn't hear the shutter clicking. Sometimes being bad at using technology works to his advantage.

"Morning, how's the hangover?"

"Barely feel a thing, must be the magical fairy dust you sprinkled over me."

You make a disgruntled noise before playfully asking, "Four times four?"

"… is sixteen. Whatever I said last night you cannot and will not hold against me, okay?"

"Sure."

He notes your noncommittal response. It's strange when you'd normally fire back at him. Rhythmic pounding noises thud in the background, and if he holds his breath to listen closely — he swears you're panting.

"What're you up to?"

"Workout. Treadmill."

Soonyoung blinks.

Forbidden thoughts of your pretty tits and ass deliciously bouncing in time as you jog flood his mind. Licking his lips, the imagery turns to you bouncing on something else. Like his cock, for example, that's already starting to swell and stiffen up at the thought. His attractive best friend panting hungrily for him instead of in the gym. Exactly as when you squirted all over that pathetic vibrator of yours.

You're a goddamn perv, he chastises himself.

Groaning as quietly as possible, he clears his throat. "You're not a fan of exercise routines. At least, you've always hated mine."

"Yours are stupid, insanely hard. A friend of mine said to keep fit, you know — to look nice for that."

"Friend? What kind of friend says shit like that?" You're reminded of his question last night but he continues on with sudden passion. "You're already pretty just the way you are!"

"Mhm-hm, and what exactly about me do you think is pretty?"

Heat burns on Soonyoung's neck, traveling upwards to set his cheeks aflame. There's no way you know what he's picturing right now. Banishing those scandalous ideas far, far, far away (for later maybe), he scrambles to answer.

"Your… your… eyes!"

He's not sure what he's expecting but it's certainly not a scoff of disbelief coming out of his phone's speaker. Only the wall you're facing can see how hard those very eyes roll.

"Lies. All men do is lie."

Before he can ask you to elaborate, a male voice he can't make out nor identify takes your attention away. Soonyoung frowns, eyebrows furrowing in perplexity at your amicable, "Be right there," before you bid your friend a rather miffed goodbye.

"Please lock the door when you leave."

"I can't stay?"

"… Just don't destroy anything."

A toothy grin emerges on his face as he thinks back to where you told him the spare key was. "I wouldn't dream of it, babe."

"Uh-huh. 'kay, bye."

"Bye!" The suddenly smug man hangs up. Donning a smirk on his face for no audience to see, one that Jihoon would shake his head and say his roommate must be up to no good.

Well. If you're going to do a workout with some other guy just because his routine is too intense — in more ways than he could ever know — Soonyoung's going to have to show you what you're missing out on.

Meanwhile, a chill runs down your spine. Puzzled, you pat at the sweat glistening on your forehead, neck, and back with the towel looped over your shoulder as you cool down. Turning off the treadmill, you join Seokmin on the large floor mat where he's attempting to stretch but has given up in pursuit of draping his body over a stability ball.

"What are you doing?"

"Becoming one with the ball."

You snort. "Is it working?"

"Yes." Turning his head, sparkling eyes stare up at you. "The universe has spoken to me and told me that was your special tiger boy. Does he miss you? Long for you?"

"There's a twenty-five-pound weight next to your girlfriend's foot. Don't make me go get it and throw it at your head."

He whines out to said partner about how mean you're being to him, only receiving delighted laughter as meager consolation in return. Setting down the heavy bar, she swings her legs off the bench and saunters over. Wrapping an arm around your shoulders, a bejeweled eyebrow raises at how Seokmin forlornly rolls across the floor before he drops the act to grin at her knowingly.

"I don't like the look you two are sharing."

"Relax, sweets. When have we ever done something bad?"

"Do you want the evidence mailed or faxed by the time I gather up all the receipts?"

"You're so funny and cute," she coos, fiddling innocently with your workout bra strap.

"And you both are insane. Lovely. But insane."

"I promise it's nothing crazy, right Seok baby?"

"Yeah, it's really tame. Nothing big either."

You shake your head. "So, it's not another extra, extra large-sized vibrator? 'Cause I was told that wasn't big either."

More bubbly giggles fill the empty gym. "How 'bout we grab some food on our way out and we'll share the deets?"

"I suppose so, could definitely use a cold drink now."

"A drink? At this time?" Seokmin teases as you search for your cover-up hoodie and zip it up. He'd wrangled all the details out of you this morning about last night's events while you helped spot him on the chest press. "Was taking care of your tiger boy really that bad?"

"… How you haven't broken his perfectly shaped nose yet is beyond me."

"'cause he's adorable. And frankly, dearest, you can be a real sour puss sometimes."

"Sorry, I'm surrounded by irritating idiots all the time that test my patience."

"Even me?"

"Never you." You loop your arm through her free one, causing the fake pout on her face to disappear.

Seokmin hangs giddily onto her other side, matching his girlfriend's radiant smile. He's used to the usual light-hearted jabs thrown his way and knows they aren't meant with any ill intent.

The three of you traipse outside where the fair sunlight and time of day increase the crowd of people milling around. Business always flourishes for the food stalls lining the sidewalk when the stroke of good fortune smiles down on them with pleasant weather. Especially when hungry gym-goers stop by for a refreshing drink or delicious snack like your trio needs after a hard routine.

"So, what's the grand secret you're hiding?"

Shiny, long hair is flipped over a tattooed shoulder with such a sure smile on her face and for the umpteenth time, you wish to have even a fraction of the self-confidence Seokmin's girlfriend exudes. "Got a sexy little number for you, darling. Nothing insane but I know you'll just love it and well," a glee-filled snicker, "I know he'll absolutely adore it. Isn't that right, 'Min?" she asks louder.

Her boyfriend nods in agreement even though he probably hasn't heard a thing other than his name from where he's busy paying at the stand. You roll your eyes.

"Thanks, but is that really necessary?"

"Of course!" she gasps, "it would be a bit of a shame, really, but I wouldn't be surprised if he tore it right off. Hah, it will be easy to tho… but anyways, the setup is always key. Remember, I told you it's just like foreplay and equally as important. You're already hot stuff and you're just gonna look even hotter flattering your best assets. He's gonna end up blowing his load, I just know it!"

"I'm going to have a meltdown," you state rather evenly while she squeals. Quite proud of yourself for the fake calm demeanor.

A hand wraps around yours, squeezing encouragingly. "Listen to me. I was in the same boat a year ago and what great advice did I receive?"

"That was different."

"How so?"

"I mean look at you two now."

"Yeah, I found the love of my life. But that's not what I'm referring to. You know how murky our feelings stupidly were at the time and what did you tell me?"

You sigh in defeat and repeat, "'Whatever happens, happens but at least you know you tried'."

"Exactly." She puts a hand on your shoulder and the other one tilts your chin up so you have no choice but to meet her firm gaze. "And I wasn't happy when you said that but it's true. Plus, my intuition deep down is never wrong and something tells me this will be good either way. It's why we got you something to help boost your confidence, yeah? Think of it as armor… even if it doesn't cover much!"

You groan her name. "Geez, alright. You're right. Someone else said the same thing but I'm just — you know…" You wave your arm around and she nods understandingly.

"I get it. It's okay to feel that way, perfectly normal. Be honest with him, at least about the nerves part if that's what you're only comfortable sharing. I think he's gonna treat you right during this, though. You're his best friend when it all comes down to it! Remember, you both have equal control over this so make sure to express and communicate at all times."

"I don't know if he'll have any control with what I have planned," you mutter and her eyebrows raise up in surprise before they wiggle suggestively with a salacious grin.

"Oh? There's my spicy sugar baby."

"Hah, stop it, you! I dunno, I mean we didn't discuss what we would be doing anyways so…"

"Mhm-hm. Well, don't forget we're always one phone call away. For anything."

"In fact, we could just book a nearby hotel." Seokmin returns and hands out your respective orders. "We haven't spent the night in one for a while, have we?"

You make a face of disgust following the couple to their parked car. "There's only trashy motels that reek of sex out my way. Like the dorms on campus but five times worse."

"Whaddya mean, that sounds perfect?"

"C'mon Seokmin," you grumble and he chuckles.

His girlfriend takes out a white clothing box wrapped with an elegant black ribbon. "Don't open it until right before you're ready to stream. I know you'll overthink it if you see it any sooner."

You bite your lip but nod, pulling her in for a hug. "Thank you a lot. For everything you always do. I know you're right." Taking in a deep breath, you stand back and nod at both of them. "I'm going to do this."

"Yes, you are! You're gonna take that dick and own it, regardless of fuzzy feelings, you better enjoy it for what it's worth!"

"Baby, we're in public!"

"What, that's never stopped you before? You just handed over a lingerie set on a public street!"

As they bicker, you hear your phone ding.

You gasp. For multiple reasons. None of them good ones.

Throwing your head back, you let out a frustrated groan before turning to face your curious friends. "It was great seeing you guys but I have to make a call and hurry home. Love you, will talk to you later."

They blow you kisses goodbye, acting as if they aren't chortling like little demons to each other that you have a very important dicking-down appointment to make. You pretend like you don't hear them, urgently dialing Soonyoung's number.

"Heya."

"Tell me you didn't bleach and dye your hair in my bathroom sink!"

Your devious best friend can't help but find your fuming cute as he plays with the tattered strings on his sweatpants. "I didn't."

You halt your fast stride and accusingly huff into the phone, "Then you're just fucking with me?"

"Not yet, actually."

"Kwon Soonyoung!"

"What? You didn't answer my question. Y'know I was gonna call and ask you what color you'd prefer but I didn't want your gym buddy to overhear."

"So you left and came back just to make a mess of my bathroom, maximizing the chances of my landlord potentially killing me?"

"Something like that, yeah."

"If you thought Jihoon was pissed, I can get much scarier than him."

"Oh trust me, I know. Better hurry that cute ass of yours home to get me to behave."

He hangs up, leaving you standing on the side of the street with your jaw nearly hitting the concrete. You hope that Soonyoung had learned his lesson after horribly — albeit accidentally — staining Jihoon's brand-new sink the last time he'd had done something crazy to his hair.

But as usual, he never fails to surprise you in the worst of ways. For as irritating as he was, it was honestly sometimes a surprise that you were best friends with him — let alone ending up with stupid feelings that totally don't exist.

The heavy weight of male testosterone hanging in the air smacks you right in the face when you open the door. So much so that you have to take a step back, shake your head, and approach your own living quarters with much more caution.

"Honest to god," you mutter to yourself, only just able to hear Soonyoung's grunts, groans, and controlled exhale over the obnoxious blaring of his workout playlist. You pray your neighbors won't file a noise complaint. "Is he for real?"

Like out of a wet dream (yours), the lean arms of your best friend curl inwards to bring the dumbbells toward his head. Biceps bulging, the rest of his muscles visible through the thin white tank draped over them ripple in time with his precise movements. An audible hiss from the burn of exertion is followed by furrowed eyebrows, lips curling inwards before he relaxes and releases the tension.

The only thing keeping you from fainting is the sight of his fuzzy bleached hair sticking out at odd points. Reminding you of why you stormed home in the first place.

Having seen your reflection in the blank TV, Soonyoung sets down the weights and turns to face you with a lazy grin. Shaking out his arms, the bracelets on his wrists jingle and jangle, silver beads against his tanned skin make it glow even more.

Like who even wears jewelry when they work out, you think to yourself with critical disdain to distract away from the fact that you're staring. In disbelief obviously. Pure and utter judgment.

As if you don't have a dainty golden chain around your own neck, the pendant resting demurely above the low zipper of your hoodie.

You miss the hungry dark brown irises following the way it dangles back and forth above your chest when you bend over to set down the bags you're carrying. Unconsciously biting down on his bottom lip at the pretty view presented to him. Hurriedly flitting his eyes away with slight shame when the charm nestles itself exactly where he was staring as you stand back up.

Just in time to meet your fiery glare that burns into his dilated pupils — this time, not from alcohol.

You're too busy staring at the mess on his head to really notice and he uses that to his advantage. As much as possible. But the attempt at sexily brushing back his frizzy bangs only makes them look worse and causes your scowl to deepen. A failure in making you swoon or laugh as intended, he sighs in defeat and turns on the kicked-puppy-dog act. Even though he's a self-certified tiger.

"Don't give me that look."

"I'm not doing anything."

"That's what you should've told me on the phone."

"Ah but… oh, wait… " he calls out as you stomp over to the bathroom only to let out a frustrated shriek. "See? Didn't ruin your basin, babe."

"Oh, you! Like you even know what that word means!"

"I do!"

A withering look is shot his way on your return but it has no effect. Neither do the next words out of your mouth. "I'm going to strangle your rat-lookin' ass for giving me a false heart attack!"

"Hah, I might be into that if it's you doing it."

This time, though, the way you whine out his name causes Soonyoung to shiver. Tiny hairs stand at attention, eliciting bumps to cover his body despite the sheen of perspiration already coating his skin.

God, does he want to hear it again.

You turn away from him, having said enough of your mind and knowing he probably wasn't even listening. Which would be correct. Instead, he tugs at the hem of your shirt and taps your shoulder so you'll face him again, allowing him to put his hands on your hips to keep you in place.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"Where are you going?"

"Away from you. Obviously."

"Trying to escape me in your own place?"

"Oh, trust me. I can evade very well while you… work out whatever alpha male energy you need to release in my home."

"But I'm a tiger — a solitary creature with no social structure."

"No social skills, more like it." You push at his chest, hand jolting back like it'd been burnt upon the realization of just how thin and useless the almost-sheer fabric of his tank top is. Cheeks burning only hotter when his shit-eating smirk widens.

Absent-mindedly kneading at your covered skin while mentally taking note of how short your attire was on your lower body, Soonyoung chuckles. "You're a tiger too, you know?"

"Stop, I could never compare to the level of your tiger-isms. Because I'm not a furry or whatever you like to call yourself."

"I could convince you to be my tigress," his breath hot against your already burning cheek, "change your mind a little bit, you're already halfway there as it is."

Any biting remark fizzles out in your throat like an opened soda can turning flat, knowing it'll only come out sounding like a whimper with how close he gets. Firm and warm — so warm and his dazzling, brilliant display of teeth only makes everything burn more. Your legs are as shaky as the breath you would have let out if you weren't holding it in just as hard as the grip on the last shred of your sanity.

Your best friend must deviously know who now has the upper hand at your ducked head. Sweatpant-clad knees knock into your bare ones. Urging you back, back, and back until you obediently sit down on the couch.

Reminiscent of the night before. Opposite positions.

Soonyoung cages your head between his arms, wishing he was shirtless so you could see the way his abs flex in order to hold himself up, not solely relying on the strength of his arms. Your silence and stunned look are enough to boost his ego though, and he knows he can make it up to you.

"Have a few more reps to do, why don't you wait 'til I'm done?"

It's adorable, he thinks — how you're only able to cutely nod, mouth slightly ajar. Completely overwhelmed by him and him alone until he backs away to give you space to finally exhale in relief.

"And why would I do that?"

Broken out of the spell long enough to grouse at him and be taken aback by the unfamiliar but familiar pull-up bar station he's headed toward. However, before you can chew him out again, he easily targets your Achilles heel. Sometimes he's smart like that (or lucky), able to pick up on your strengths and weaknesses you don't realize or try to hide. Either for or against your well-being.

"'Cause I'll make it worthwhile, babe."

And right now, Soonyoung's actively using every effort to work against you.

Pulling out a baseball cap from who knows where to cover his hideous hair and tossing away his useless top, you have no choice but to momentarily gawk at the defined valley between his back muscles with nothing shielding your view. It's up to your filthy imagination to envision what disappears under the waistband of his gray sweatpants hanging low on his hips.

"Yeah, right, I'll just look at my phone," you grumble, although you can't tear your gaze away despite unlocking the device with your thumb.

"See something you like?"

His teasing is relentless, your shrunken reflection on the TV screen becoming his focal point. Grinning to himself with his tongue sticking out, panting and moaning as acceptable as one can when doing pull-ups.

"No," you lie flatly, "I saw a lot of that not too long ago at the gym." More lies. Seokmin is a respectable man and keeps himself well-covered. "I'm just wondering how you got that damn thing in here."

"I'm stronger than I look."

"I know. Doesn't explain why you bothered to set it up here."

It's hard to shrug in the middle of a pull-up so he hums. "Change of scenery?"

"There's a great view at your apartment. A huge, wide window overlooking a green yard, not some beige wall."

Like he'd admit right now that he'd rather look at you. For amusement. For other reasons. Especially because he has a pretty good idea of how lovely you are undressed.

Continuing to ramble, you carry on. "And if you're all wrung up about me avoiding you — which I'm not — because of the collab, don't be. 'Cause I'll still do it — "

One of Soonyoung's hands almost slips off the bar, losing his grip in his sudden excitement at your words. Stabilizing himself with two feet planted on the ground, he faces you — chest heaving, abs rippling to catch his breath.

"You're still okay with it?"

"I mean why wouldn't I be? I just… had to process things. I'm a bit… well… nervous, okay?" You look down, expecting him to laugh at you.

"I'm nervous, too. Didn't mean to make you uncomfortable with the things I texted you, was just caught up in the moment, and I… " He rubs his neck, backpedaling when you flinch. "I meant it! Oh god, I mean… I didn't intend to be a creep, I just wanted you to know that…"

A deep inhale gives him enough air to rush out, "I do find you attractive. I mean you're hot, duh. And… I would and will do anything and everything to make sure you're comfortable at all times and… also… feel good… and… and stuff."

Soonyoung's voice fades away, the idea that he's fumbled the ball so hard and lost the game is super embarrassing. Defeat isn't common. Flirting and securing dates were his forte, his special skills, and the things he never failed at. Yet, with you sitting right in front of him right now — someone who is always by his side — he keeps fucking things up.

It gives him a small flutter of hope though when you raise your head to steadily meet his eyes. A hint of a soft smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "You're strange, you know that?"

"I'm trying to have a heart-to-heart for the third time and you're telling me I'm weird?"

"Strange, not weird."

"They're literally cinnamons."

"… Synonyms?"

"Yeah, you know when two different words mean the same thing."

"I — " You shake your head. Typical Soonyoung behavior. Attempting to get back on track, you mumble an apology. "You know, I've been caught up in my head without thinking about what or how you're feeling at all even though you've been pretty open."

"More than open."

"True. It just…. scares me. You're my best friend, Soonie — I don't want to lose you."

Your fearful whisper comes out more like a plea. The both of you search each other's shared gaze, unable to recognize the exact emotions you seek are in plain sight.

Soonyoung frowns. "You aren't going to lose me over this."

"You don't understand."

"You haven't been upfront with anything if I'm being honest so, yeah. I don't."

"I'm — I'm sorry — "

"Don't be," he assures you with a wave of his hand and comes closer, "I get that it's new, scary, and gonna take time. I'm not expecting anything nor am I gonna leave when it's over, okay? Just want us to enjoy ourselves." His soft approach — the clumsy steadiness of the man you know and love — only makes your heart melt devastatingly so. "I promise this is gonna be great."

"It… it will be. I trust you."

He beams at you, holding out his hand. "Why don't we shower together then?"

"What?" Your body jolts, not at the coldness of the phone you had a death grip on falling onto your thighs but at the shock of his words. "Why?"

"To make up for the time we could've had during the communal shower incident?"

"Ugh, omigod, you perv…I should've known way back then."

Soonyoung wiggles his eyebrows and fingers enticingly. "How about just getting comfy and calming the nerves a bit? No cameras, no viewers, no one else — no pressures. Just us. Whatcha think?"

"No funny tricks," you warn but take his offered hand and stand up. It's horrible how the idea is enough to make your body thrum in anticipation.

"'course not, wouldn't dream of it, babe."

Despite the growing trepidation, neither one of you is eager to move too fast and disturb the careful equilibrium established.

Once he's secured your hand in his, Soonyoung leads you toward the bathroom but pauses right outside the door. You peer at him curiously — thinking he's chickened out — but he simply winks, apologizing that he needs the bag left by his workout equipment.

"You little shit, you had this all planned, didn't you?"

"No, but I brought a few things in the hopes you'd at least let me stay over again. You see, Jihoon was planning a big romantic dinner tonight."

"Aw, was he? That's cute. Can you grab my stuff too? I'll… meet you in the shower in a few… gotta run to my room real quick."

"'kay, but you better not run from me," he whispers in your ear and delivers a playful slap on your ass before leaving.

Your legs wobble. Weird excitement mixes with the butterflies in your gut and then you're dashing off into your bedroom to glare at the flustered expression reflected in your vanity's mirror. Sorting through and tossing around various panties, undergarments, and casual clothing only to huff at yourself because what does it matter what you wear to the shower?

Damn you, Soonyoung.

Patting at super flushed, hot cheeks causes you to unzip your hoodie and throw it in the hamper. Left wearing only a sports bra, the urge to waste time and calm yourself by staring at the glowing, rotating stars on the ceiling is strong. Instead, you crouch down on the floor to give yourself one final pep talk for mental fortitude and then head back to join said man in the bathroom.

So caught up in trying to steel your nerves, you don't realize how long it took him to get the bags. Nor the flush coloring his neck a scarlet red and even spreading across his shoulders after he dropped yours off in front of the closed bedroom door, having accidentally caught a glimpse inside one of them.

Yes, the unmarked plastic Limbo bag that had been left in your car due to the events that happened after. You had brought it in today and although he'd picked it up without a second thought, he had seen a particular item that left his head spinning. You are none the wiser — forgetting all about it already again because of everything.

Soonyoung's already stripped and turned the shower on, intently watching the stream of water like it's the most interesting thing he's seen all day. You're grateful, though.

Although a bra and booty shorts are by far not the most revealing thing you've worn or that your best friend's seen, you feel bare before you're even naked. Quickly discarding them, you wait for his next move, shifting on your feet. Both bashful and antsy.

"You ready?" The soft way he calls your name has your stomach doing somersaults.

"Yeah."

"C'mere, then." Brown eyes crinkle to match his smile at the way you shyly sidle up next to him. "Don't know if the water temp is good for you."

"It's fine."

"After you, then."

You snort at the so-called gentlemanly nature, stepping inside while Soonyoung fidgets. It's funny because he's never failed to ogle you before with clothes on. But now he's unsure where to even look, choosing to focus on the water flowing past your painted toes and down the drain.

"You coming?"

"Yeah, uh…" He asks himself why he was doing this despite knowing the answer. "Um, nice shower."

You play along as if he's never been inside the bathroom before. "It is a nice bonus considering the rent. Big enough for two people to stand inside and not… touch."

Soonyoung's back is pressed straight up against the shower wall, clinging to it like mold and using it as a lifeline. There definitely seems to be enough space between your two bodies but he would rather slip on soap than move his eyes off the chipped caulking he's focused on right now. Speaking of soap, his singular brain cell lights up for a moment and he grabs the shampoo bottle that's thankfully to the right rather than behind either of you.

"You wanna wash my hair for me?"

"What did you do to it? Obviously, it wasn't bleached if you're getting it wet. And it doesn't look much different."

"Chan helped me lighten it. With apple cider vinegar."

"Are you serious?"

"Yeah."

Another mistake. Not his hair. But asking you to wash it. Especially when you tell him to duck his head to his chest so you can lather it up properly. Though your nails feel great against his scalp, he squeezes his eyes shut — afraid to look again. Even after straightening up and you're rinsing out the suds.

"I thought we were doing this to ease up the nerves but why do you look ten times more uncomfortable?"

"… I'm trying really, really, really hard not to be a creep right now."

You have to laugh. Endeared and amazed, you tap at his hands which have curled into tight fists to try and get him to relax. "Don't you want to look?"

One eye opens to squint at you, a strangled groan escaping his throat. "The goal was to get you more comfortable with me. Not the other way around?"

"But it looks like you're having a harder time." The not-so-subtle innuendo has him groaning again, running a distressed hand through his wet locks. You're having zero difficulties checking him out, undoubtedly noticing the effect this is having on him. So of course, your ego grows just like his cock. "Do you wanna touch me, Soonie?"

"I… I…"

It's your turn to reach for the shelf of toiletries, the snap of the body wash's lid opening causes a shiver to run down Soonyoung's spine and his nostrils flare at the familiar scent. He's helpless to your sweet, seductive tone and lets you lift up his hand, squeezing a generous amount from the bottle onto it.

"You can get me all nice, clean, and pretty for our stream, yeah?"

Which is a lie — you're not looking to get clean, necessarily. The hot water and occasional soap suds are enough to wash away the sweat and grime from both of your workouts. An actual scrub could come later.

After the festivities.

"Don't waste my expensive products," you teasingly beg and bat your damp eyelashes at him before turning around. How the tables have turned. "Please?"

He swears under his breath, muttering, "This is all your fault," (a lie) before running his hands along your shoulders to spread the cool gel. Circular motions bring them down closer and closer before cautiously, but eagerly, cupping at the underside of your breasts.

"Knew you always had a thing for them," you giggle.

"Can you blame me?" Soonyoung bites back and starts to knead at them the same way he's done to other parts of your body without this kind of intent. "They're fucking gorgeous. Can't believe I finally get to touch them."

Your sigh comes out more like an airy moan, leaning back against his firm body. Two and two click together. "So these are your favorite parts of my body, huh? You've been talking to your juniors about my tits?"

"No way!" he assures you, "It's true that your eyes are beautiful as well but I can talk about how pretty you are…. you know, as a person."

"I don't even want to know."

"Like… you know!"

"No?"

"I mean all of them have the hots for you, I'm just making sure none of them make a move because that would be weird."

"Oh please, it's only weird if you make it weird."

"Think about it. If my best friend dates my younger peers and exposes all kinds of embarrassing moments, how am I supposed to hold onto my authoritative position?"

"You expose your stupidity all by yourself as it is and still somehow maintain it. I think you terrify them in so many ways you don't even have to worry."

"I dunno. Whatever, are underclassmen even your type?"

You shrug. "I don't really have a preference but I guess not."

"Good, let's keep it that way."

"You're incorrigible."

"And yet here we are." He points out, noting that his hands groping and squeezing at your chest has to feel good. A little too good, if you're the one being honest. "You still want to stream, right? Like tonight?"

"Mhm, we might as well. Besides, you have your date really soon and — " You yelp at the sudden pinch and tug at your nipples, lurching forward.

Soonyoung follows your body's motion, ensuring you won't slip or hit your head. You can feel the hot press of his cock laying heavy against your back, bodies melding together as he rises back to his full height and brings you up with him. He doesn't move away, one hand brushing across your stomach while the other soothes the harshness just enacted upon your breasts.

"Do you think you can handle one sweet orgasm for me? Before we put on a show? Please?"

"Wha — Soonyoung?" you splutter out, brain trying to catch up and process the change of his demeanor.

His mouth is on your skin, not quite kissing and not quite biting or sucking. Just lips pressing along your neck with an occasional prod of his tongue that licks up water droplets as he pleads for permission. Followed by a slight grind of his hips that steals away your breath, his heavy cock swirling against the curve of your ass, its heat matching the heat building up in your abdomen.

"Just my fingers, baby. There's no way I'd have trouble getting hard again but I need… no, want to stretch you out first. Please."

Breathless laughter bubbles in your chest at his desperation. And of course, you find yourself equally as turned on — easily able to distinguish between the hot shower water versus the release of arousal that bursts from your gut and trickles out to coat your sensitive folds.

You tell him "okay," and then he's goddamn thanking you. Already panting. Would get on his knees if he could but it's too risky, even though he reaches behind and shuts off the water that's rinsed away all of the unnecessary suds. Now, Soonyoung can resort to using his fingers to explore where he hopes his mouth and eyes can later.

Prodding at the crease of your thigh, he mumbles more to himself, "Is this where it's at?", causing you to grimace. Not knowing he's referring to your tiger lily tattoo.

"Thought you were a sex maniac? But you don't know how to finger someone?" Maybe Junhui was right. "I should've bought you a guide or something, my bad."

He scoffs. "A little mouthy, aren't we? Not that I was expecting anything less. Saw you bought some fun sex toys, babe and I assure you — I know how to use them and find my way around a body."

"We might use them in ways you can't imagine," you gripe and he silences you with a bold swipe of his fingers against the smooth folds of your cunt.

"You're shaking in my arms already and you don't think I know what I'm doing." He doesn't speed up his pace or make further movements, content to tease. Though his lips turn downward when you clasp a hand over your mouth. "Going quiet on me before I've even started?"

"I'm cold," you mumble behind your palm.

Soonyoung's hand leaves your lower body so he can place it on your elbow instead. Not moving your arm away but it's a tight enough grip that you know he wants to and could if he tried. He feels the bumps covering your skin everywhere he's pressed against and shivers himself.

"Let me warm you up then. But you're going to have to let me hear how it feels or I won't know if I'm doing a good job." Fingers trail down your side again and you relent, tentatively dropping your arm down and letting out a soft, wobbly moan at his tickling motions. "And I very much like knowing that I am."

You can feel his smile against your neck. He can't help but be fond of such cute shyness that you don't normally exhibit around him but even that's not enough to feed the ravenous tiger. Soonyoung understands though, aware of some of the differences between sexual acts for a camera audience versus doing it with another person.

Especially if it's him. Not that he's actually aware of that fact.

"Words, gorgeous." But the man still desires to ask, intent on getting you to actually say something, breathy and sweet all for him — and him alone. Hopefully not just an act. Besides, he knows how mouthy you actually are whether there's something in that cute cunt of yours or not.

"Mhm yes, Soonyoungie…"

"Yeah?" He rewards you with a return to your damp folds, gently brushing back and forth to get his fingers thoroughly coated with arousal. "Tell me what I should do, what you like. Wanna hear it all from those pretty lips of yours."

"Hm, want… want your fingers."

"Where?"

"In… inside."

"Huh, inside… here?" A finger slowly eases its way into your warmth. "In this lovely little pussy of yours?"

Your reaction is incredible, arching your lower back to press even closer to him, wedging his cock between your ass cheeks, and throwing your head back. A louder moan echoes in the shower. One that glimmers with more confidence.

You're no longer cold, sure the water droplets glistening on your skin are sizzling now and evaporating from the feral heat rushing through your body. And it is absolutely everything to Soonyoung. Almost.

"How many? How deep?"

Despite having shorter fingers, they make up for the lack of length with thickness and technique. You can clearly feel by the one alone that he obviously knows how to utilize as it explores the spongy walls of your cunt. Your moan turns into a whiny huff as he stills his digit and your foggy mind finally registers you need to answer.

"Two, please. Not… not too deep."

"'course, baby. Whatever you want. I know you can take more but I'll be gentle." He nips at your ear as he slides his ring finger next to his middle one inside, teeth bared hungrily at the filthy squelch. Pointer finger soothingly pets one side on the outer lip of your pussy that snugly wraps around him, tiny tremors of its nerves fluttering across it. "Anything for you."

He continues to mumble, stuff along the lines of "only for you" and "never do a thing to ever hurt you". But it's drowned out by the blood roaring in your ears, melting against Soonyoung's body, and attempting to keep standing. It doesn't matter too much, his strong grip ensures you won't fall — it'd be a waste of such a rigorous arm workout if he couldn't even brace and support you while he finally gets to stroke your velvety walls like he's fantasized about.

Or maybe that's fueling his strength alone. It's startling, how fast you rush toward that peak. The sensitivity of someone — him — touching you for the first time in years, the smell of your scent on him… everything in that moment, within the intimacy of your shower, is just you and Soonyoung.

It's intimate. Much too intimate.

Emotions collide and crash, causing an intense ache that leaves you in a fragile state of vulnerability, stealing your breath with a sharp gasp. Paired with the slow, concentrated strokes of his fingers that are intent on helping you reach that peak, you have no choice but to follow along.

Embarrassingly climbing up the hill and hurtling to your climax at a raging speed, like a roller coaster that races downwards off-track. And like its unfortunate passengers, you scream — albeit silently, the pleasure so mind-numbing that it steals away every single one of your functions.

It satisfies Soonyoung though. The lack of noise from your mouth lets him appreciatively hear the accompanying squelch of your darling cunt pulsating around his fingers. Gummy walls squeeze his fingers in rippling waves that make his cock ache. You tremble in his arm and he feels hella pleased, content to support your shaking frame until he realizes you're sobbing.

Mush. Your brain, your body, your heart. It feels so so, so good it almost oddly hurts so, so, so bad.

Your best friend is quick to wipe your cheek tenderly, brushing away the trickling tears with his cleaner hand. "Hey, you okay? You still with me?"

It's hard to trust yourself to speak, the lump in your throat is too big to allow for speech anyways. Instead, you nod at him through bleary eyes, waiting for the roar to fade from your ears. Soonyoung scans your face repeatedly, worry knitting his eyebrows.

"Baby," he whispers, pet names slipping out without thought, and pulls down the fluffy towel on the nearby hook to drape over your shoulders. "Talk to me. Too much? I'm so sorry… gosh, I really am sorry, love."

Regret immediately eats at him. Regret at what, he's not quite sure. But like a stone is crushing his chest, he watches you attempt to talk to him — to actually assure him that you are okay — but your body refuses to cooperate in its hypersensitive state, stuck heaving dry sobs. So, you timidly open your arms, asking for a hug and he steps in to embrace you without a moment's hesitation.

Although it's like he's touching glass, afraid you'll break with one wrong touch so he's extraordinarily gentle. Your head buries into the crook of his neck. Toweled arms wrap around him, luckily sharing a bit of warmth and dryness. Breathing in his comforting scent that lingers beneath your shampoo, and the supportive strength of defined, moist skin pressed against yours. Both of your hearts beating rapidly off-sync starts to ease the shaking in your body.

Every swallow you hear and feel from his throat continues to bring you back down to a calmer wavelength. Unsure of how much time passes until you no longer feel like you're a balloon floating away in the stratosphere. But once you finally come down and feel a sense of stability, you lift your head.

Soonyoung's quick to crank his neck just for the tiniest glimpse to gauge how you're doing when there's zero indication of you releasing him from your embrace. In fact, your arms might tighten even harder around his torso. A thumb reaches up to cradle the side of your cheek he can reach, swiping tenderly at the salty dampness.

"I'm sorry." It's your turn to croak out an apology and he frowns.

"Why are you apologizing? It's me who should be — "

"No, it's not you! Well, not exactly. Forgot how it feels to be touched by someone else and it's just… a little overwhelming. I didn't mean to scare you."

"Wasn't scared but definitely worried I took it too far. I didn't want or mean to."

"You didn't," you assure him, hands wrapped in the bath towel running up and down his lean back. "I'm fine. It felt… good. Really good. Probably too good. Guess you weren't lying about your skills."

Embarrassed laughter is muffled by burying your head back into the space between his neck and shoulder, a slight nuzzle against his warm skin. Refusing to look into your best friend's brown eyes yet upon the recollection that he'd just had his fingers deep inside of you, bringing you to a pleasurable precipice that you think is the best you've ever experienced.

"Ah."

When that's all he simply says, you have to lean away, honestly a little puzzled. Now it's his turn — once again — to not meet your eyes. A pretty flush illuminates round cheeks that are only emphasized more by the shockingly bashful smile growing on his lips.

"'Ah'?" you repeat in surprise. "I thought you'd be all… cocky and proud. Y'know, like earlier."

His hands rub up and down your arms, unintentionally but successfully finishing drying you off. "Hey, don't get me wrong. I am proud, it's not every day a man gets his pretty bestie to cum like that."

"I am pretty, aren't I?"

"Yeah, you are." He confirms that by resolutely meeting your gaze and the moment stretches on until you blink to shatter it. "Don't like making you cry though."

"Really? That doesn't seem like your normal MO, Mr. 'I get told off for having too high of a sex drive'!"

"Well… you're different," Soonyoung huffs at you mimicking his words from days ago, and scratches the back of his head as you step out of the shower. Shamelessly ogling your backside in mild retaliation as if you aren't giving him a free show on purpose when you reach for another towel. It's pointless if you don't see and he's allowed to look. "You know that."

All you do is chuckle and shake your head, humor being your favorite defense mechanism. You don't dare to ask him to elaborate. What do you know? Sure, he treats you differently… because you're his precious friend. Because he —

You focus on his matted hair that kind of makes him look a bit like a drowned rat. Though your affection doesn't dwindle, at least you can focus on the conversation rather than Soonyoung and his undeniable attractiveness that now makes you weak in more ways than one.

"What I know now is that my best friend has a dacryphilia kink."

"Do not!"

"Sure," you say, the word absolutely coated in sarcasm but you don't push it. Instead, you ask, "What about you though? Anyone ever made you cry?"

Soonyoung tongues at his cheek, as he joins you at the sink counter, towel politely covering his modesty like yours. "And now who has a kink for tears? I'm aware of how much you love it when viewers are sobbing for you to squirt for them, all pretty like you do. Bet they wail into their pillows every night because they can never, ever have a chance with you."

"Ha, talking about yourself, Tiger?" Boldly, you run a finger down the crevice formed by his pec muscles, just stopping before you reach his abs. "Didn't someone admit to being a frequent viewer of mine?" Watching as he visibly gulps despite the smirk starting to quirk the corner of his lips up. "Ever shed tears for me, Soonie baby?"

It's a miracle that the poor man is able to remain standing with every single one of his nerves tingling and firing off at your words. His entire being thrums while he wiggles his eyebrows.

"Wouldn't you like to know," he teases, unsurprisingly finding himself breathless.

"I guess I would. Or… I could just find out for myself."

"Fuck, so those toys I accidentally saw weren't for you, were they?" When all you do is bite your lip to try and hide your grin, he laughs and swears again. Turning away to run another hand through his hair, he looks back at you with an eager sparkle in his eyes. "I should've known, you naughty tigress."

"Are you up to it though?"

"Clearly."

"… I mean mentally, Soonyoung. Want to make sure you're okay with that."

"As okay as you were with what we did in the shower," he affirms, "because I trust you, too. Besides," his gaze lowers to drag across your covered body though you might as well be naked with the hungry way he stares before meeting your eyes again. "That sweet pussy of yours could bring anyone to tears. Hmm, maybe I do have a dacryphilia kink… "

"You think?" With a giggle, you try not to melt at his words. The whiplash of him jumping between hot and goofy still leaves you reeling. "We'll just have to confirm between ourselves, won't we? Let the viewers decide on the consensus."

"I'm all yours, baby." Always have been, rings silently in his mind though you likely fail to receive the message. "No matter how many people are watching or what they're saying, we'll go at your pace."

"Our pace."

"Our pace," Soonyoung repeats affirmatively and holds out his hand.

You clasp onto it like an anchor, an unspoken deal mutually accepted by the action. And then you're using it as a way to pull him out of the bathroom, eager to share with him all the ideas you've brainstormed for tonight's livestream.

This was it.

Your camming setup was in its desired location after making Soonyoung sit in various positions on the bed while you adjusted the angle for the best view. Then you turned everything off with strict instructions for the technology-inept man to not touch anything while you were gone and he lazily reclined on your bed to wait.

He agreed just as amicably as he had after patiently listening to you stutter when finally discussing what you both felt comfortable doing on-cam. Winking lecherously as you leave the bedroom with his arms propped up behind his head causes his upper body to automatically flex. You'd probably seen more of his muscles today than you ever did over the couple of years of knowing him, the man only donning — startlingly normal-colored — boxers and various silver earrings dotting his ears.

"No tiger print?" you had asked, half teasing, half shocked.

"C'mon, it wasn't like I was that prepared. Besides, what's it matter when we'll be naked soon?"

And now you stand back in your bathroom with a cross look. Twisting and turning in different directions to assess your appearance in the vanity mirror.

Seokmin's girlfriend has never done you dirty. In fact, she just seems to get better at buying things that not only flatter you but stuff you actually enjoy and feel comfortable with or in. And clearly, with this set… frankly, you think she's hit the nail on the head. But Soonyoung's casual words about getting naked eat at the normal self-esteem boost you would expect to be instilled by the beautiful lingerie.

It's simple and classy. Delicate yet sexy. Still, you don't feel as confident as you'd like to.

But then you jump at the loud drawl of your name followed by, "If you don't come out here soon I'm gonna start touching stuff!" A beat of silence. "Hm, I wonder what this button does…?"

"Hey, you'd better not!"

"You're right, I'd rather be touching you! So get your cute butt over here before I count to three, ahem, one… "

"And I thought it was me who was supposed to be the one counting," you call back and roll your eyes.

"Two… "

"Omigod! I'm coming, you beast of a man!"

"Yeah, that's what I want you to be say — oh, damn… oh wow… "

You barge back in and Soonyoung hasn't moved, still lying on his back and yelling on your bed like a child throwing a temper tantrum. But he turns to look when he hears you approach only to do a full-body jerk at the sight.

Because his traitorous eyes are immediately drawn to the large but darling satin bow tied below a flattering display of cleavage created from the two matching pieces of fabric pulled comfortably snug around your breasts. Licking his lips subconsciously as his gaze follows the line of your body to the two additional bows adorning each of your hips and keeping the material of your panties on with one simple knot tied in each one.

The man is mumbling all kinds of stuff you can't really make out as he sits up besides, "Oh my god," and probably something along the lines of "holy mother of —," and then curses. Suddenly your insecurity flares back up and you recoil instinctively to cover yourself even though he's already seen you naked.

"Wait, wait… don't hide from me…! No, no c'mere, baby. Please," his voice actually cracks as he begs and reaches out his hands, "let me see you… all of you."

And how can you resist when Soonyoung looks at you like that, glassy-eyed and tender? You go to him with timid steps until you're close enough to feel his body heat once more.

"Sweet thing." Strong arms wrap around your thighs, hands gently laying against the back of them as he nuzzles tenderly around your stomach with his nose. "How are you gonna order me around when you get all shy on me like this?"

Your hands flutter at your side, twitching unsurely before they dare to settle on him — one plays with the tip of his ear free from piercings, and the other scratches his scalp with your nails right above his forehead. And Soonyoung practically purrs in contentment, strangely putting you back at ease.

"Oh, you'll be surprised at what I can do."

He chuckles. "I always am. You're so beautiful and gorgeous, there's no reason to hide, okay? Never forget that. You still feeling alright?"

"Actually, yeah I'm… good. What about you?"

"Couldn't be better. Except my dick feels a bit numb as fuck but that's okay." When you snort, he smiles against your skin. "I'll manage."

"I'll take care of y — it soon, I promise."

He groans. "Might actually bust a nut at this point."

"Dear lord, Soonyoung… "

"Just kidding. Mostly." Backing away to get a better look at you again, his eyebrows crinkled. "You know I have excellent stamina and control. I'm as cool as a cucumber right now."

"Yeah, okay. Whatever."

"But you do look good enough to eat, goddamnit." Fingertips dare to caress the free end of the ribbon hanging from the knot tying your bra together. "This is new."

"Are you keeping track of the lingerie sets I wear?"

"Mhm… vaguely?"

You roll your eyes. "Yes, it's new."

"Thought so 'cause you've never worn dark green before but damn, do you look good."

Soonyoung wiggles his eyebrows and you flick him gently on the forehead before turning around at his command. A low whistle and awakening twitch in his boxers at the satin that thins at the back, showing off the round perkiness of your ass.

It's true that your normal colors are orange, black, or a combo. But the dark green material looks amazing against your skin, is fresh and new, and unsurprisingly — he finds himself hella down bad, noticing the way it also draws out the colors of your tiger lily tattoo that he's never really paid attention to before, when you've completed your 360-spin to face him again.

God, you're a vision.

"Hot, sexy, perfect… buy it for me to unwrap you, babe?"

You glance at the bows with a pout. "A friend bought them for me but I guess it makes sense, doing it with someone else is definitely more exciting with these."

"You said a friend?" Of course, that's the only thing he acknowledges even if he's indeed dying to undo all of the ties right away.

"Yes, Soonyoung. Again, I have friends besides you."

"One that buys you lingerie?"

"Last time I checked, you weren't."

"Then I'll amend that problem."

"No thanks," you wave him off as you head over to your camming setup to start. "I get enough stuff as it is."

"I guess I should have my kittens gift me things." A hint of satisfaction fills his chest at the downward tilt of your lips when you turn back to the setup. But a pang overrides it because he can guess why you're really grimacing. "Since it's so worth it and all."

"Don't get all salty, I'll help you find a safe place to receive things if you want." You glance over only to find his arms crossed and a frown set on his face. "What's wrong? Did your cock fall off? Do I have to drive you to the hospital?!"

"No."

You're puzzled. "Then are you good to go or…?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," he huffs, "sorry, got in my head a little."

"We can wait."

"No, it's all good. Let's get this show on the road."

"Alright… "

You hesitate for a minute or so before decisively starting the livestream, the telltale red blinking dot starting after the countdown. Though your next words make Soonyoung feel like somebody dumped an ice-cold bucket of water over him, a cruel jerk back to the reality you'd both created. And maybe you just doused yourself with it too.

"Let's finally just get this thing over with."

TigerLily_61596 is now live… with a special guest!

The air has definitely suddenly shifted and both of you need to dial it in and dull it out. Whatever it may be. Because you've got an audience to perform for.

Luckily, it's easier than expected. The brief silence as you wait for viewers to tune in ends up permeating a blanket of calmness. The view count rises fast, everyone's excited anticipation is so palpable that it's starting to rouse in your body as well.

"Horang-HEY… " Soonyoung murmurs the infamous tagline while using his phone to monitor the chat. He's pleased to recognize many of the joining screen names consist of his regulars. "Yeah it's me, Hoshi AKA 0riginaltiger69. He/him pronouns, if you please."

He continues reading with a dubious adjustment to his covered crotch. "Ah, wooluv, kitten! No tigerprint…? Yeah, things are gonna be a bit different tonight anyways. Yeah, good to see you too. Miss me? Aw, missed my rowdy lil pussycats."

kingh0ng: im early for once but there's some just random dude talking abt his underwear?????

kingh0ng: and CATS????????????????? NOT PUSSIES???

NewUser4950: it's gonna be a collab

horny49yu: it's a good day to be a bisexual >>>

sugacub3s: and a furry apparently 🤨

"Hey now, no kink-shaming is welcome here."

While he starts an easygoing back-and-forth about whether or not kink-shaming could classify as a kink itself, you re-approach where he's seated on the edge of the bed. Fingers press into the firm muscles of his deltoids after you crawl to sit behind him and he sucks in a sharp breath.

kitkat69: 🤤 mama has finally arrived

"Hi kitkat69, darling," you smile in comfort at the familiar user while peeking over Soonyoung's shoulder, a hand creeping over to brush above his pectoral muscle.

NewUser3939: what are you okay with us calling u?

"Yeah, if you're new here… I don't care how you address me, I'm fine with anything. The regulars call me Mama, Tigress… all sorts. Spoiler alert though, I'm probably not the one you're going to want to be calling names tonight."

hoshis_d1ck: oh damn???? 🫦

wooluv: 😢 im so jealous

You dare to tweak at the man's corresponding nipple. He grunts and leans forward into the camera, bare upper body hiding from the lens the way your lips purse at his actions.

"'kay kittens, I hope you enjoy what we have prepared so get all comfy while the tigers set up their playpen."

Once he moves to situate himself in front of the pillows piled by the headboard, you're quick to turn and kneel between his thighs. Dutifully showing off an enticing backside perched prettily on the back of your heels and the black leather strap draped over one of your legs hinting at what's in your hand.

s0turned0n: leash?! ummmmmmmm 👅

AnonymousUser4442: toys…….. oh- 🙃 😵‍💫 🥴

newuserjk: even between the 2 of them? yuhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

deathbyd1cks: you look great in that set babe~ 😍 💦

crazy4w00: too true 😳

m3rs: HOT

"You're so cringey." Your whisper is just loud enough so only he can hear.

"And? They love it."

woolove: why can't that be me 😩😩😩😩

cumdaywh0ring: 😔 same here but which 1

horny49yu: again a great day to be a bisexual!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Soonyoung's still reading the comments and you huff. "You're supposed to be paying attention."

"I am."

"To me," you clarify and take the phone out of the man's rather loose grip. Placing it on the nightstand, your covered breasts softly press against his firm ones and another quiet grunt escapes his mouth.

He's still not looking directly at you even as you loop your arms over his shoulders to put the collar around his neck. Bravely, you place what could almost be considered a kiss — featherlight — to the rapidly pulsating vein, raised and visible on his neck due to an extremely tensed jaw.

A whisper of "Soonie," in his ear and you feel the tiny hairs on the nape of his neck rise despite how the flesh beneath the pads of your fingers burns. "Relax for me," you continue in a low, seductive tone and then fasten the collar with a resounding click.

deathbyd1cks: 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹 everyone shut up they r having a moment

NewUser1920: feeling inherently single! ✌️

crazy4w00: may be the point lololol

wooluv: 🥲

Leaning back to assess how good he looks with the black leather stretching around the honeyed skin of his throat, the defiant spark that smolders inside of a swift glare before he's glancing away ignites something within you. Maybe he's doing this on purpose. Egging you on to deliberately provoke what happens next in the hasty script you're both choosing to act out, weird feelings be damned.

It helps.

Hesitation is nonexistent when your hand runs along his sharp jawline until it reaches his bottom lip, pulling it downwards with your thumb. Two fingers slip inside Soonyoung's mouth and push down on his tongue, encouraging him to open wider which he readily obliges. Your other hand sneaks into his boxers, just barely grazing the head of the growing bulge confined in them, and decisively pulling out the second surprise toy of tonight's show.

kitkat69: jsfkdjafkjfkJDKJdfjjdf

cherry_scouper95: 😏😏😏 my colors ayo ❤️ 🖤

8starfucks: this fucks 1000/10

4ngelic_m3nace: me n who ME AND WHO??????

The red sphere of the ball gag is filled with holes but the solid surface molding the circular shape lays sticky between your fingers. Holding it enticingly between your own teeth, you can't help but stick your tongue out and let out a tiny moan at the salty excess purposefully left behind by his neglected, leaking shaft.

You're not sure when Soonyoung placed his hands on your sides but he kneads the bare skin with usual familiarity, squeezing just a bit rougher after the sound you made. Before you dare let yourself wander too far off track, you lean in close. An accelerated heartbeat mixed with ridiculous flutters can be felt in your chest, your stomach, and even between your legs. So traitorous that you would grit your jaw in irritation if you could.

Instead, you tilt your head, raise up onto only your knees, and place your arms around his neck again, this time for support. Using a skilled tongue — while continuing to tease yourself with the taste of his precum — to nudge the ball into his awaiting mouth. Lips dangerously brush together and you're surprised he doesn't flinch away.

"No kissing."

"Okay."

"Not gonna question why?"

There's no need to because you respect his boundaries as he does yours. But as familiar as he is with your idiosyncrasies, you also realize Soonyoung is pushing the matter because he wants you to ask.

"No one gets to kiss your virgin lips, I know."

"Wha — "

"That's what your drunk self — that kisses people very often — told me once."

"Oh, hm…"

"Don't worry, I get it. You should save kissing for someone special. Like maybe Yuna."

"Huh… I guess?" He shrugs noncommittally. In a way, you almost feel bad for the girl he's going on a date with. In fact, that's why you're trying so hard to protect your own heart, dare it get treated so flippantly like this.

"Besides, there's no reason for any kisses."

Not unless it's you, think two dumbass minds.

And maybe you linger a little longer than necessary or needed during the brush of lips that's clearly not a kiss. Surely Soonyoung doesn't lean in a little further, pressing up closer against your entire body. Perhaps it's simply your imagination when his hands move behind your back as if he would never let you move away from him again.

deathbyd1cks: 🍿 😎

Anonymous33001: i feel like i'm intruding on smth v personal 😭

jejusb00s: it's called intimacy 🤌 a connection

s0turned0n: sad lonely n horny

But you do distance yourself. You have to.

Once the ball is lodged in his mouth, you drop your arms down, guide his hands onto the bed, and lean to the side to secure the strap of the gag behind his head. He's a vision and you know it.

He probably knows it too.

Loose bangs are pushed up off his forehead that glistens in the low light of the room. Sweat also shines between the peaks of his tiddies and valleys of abs that flex and unflex with uneven breathing. Saliva starts to pool past his reddening lips. A hazy look in his eyes that has to be mirrored within your own. There's no other choice but to be proud of such a masterpiece — him.

You also can't help but show a cheeky smirk to the viewers when you turn around. Seating your ass right on top of Soonyoung's large bulge like it's no big deal that the moist wetness soaking the satin covering your cunt blends right into the seeping mess of fabric covering him. Bracing yourself with hands set on the two strong thighs below, you start a lazy grind of your hips that have you biting your bottom lip coyly when he throws his head back with a series of frustrated groans.

kingh0ng: woooo some action from the fav

Putting on an act, you frown as if hurt. "What do you think I've been doing all this time darlings?"

NewUser9031: not paying attention to us :(

"Aw, I know you need attention too."

The pleasant sound of tips pouring in is satisfying as is but you always have ideas on how to rack them up even more and rile the dirty minds of the viewers. Drive them crazy. Seemingly Soonyoung has the same thought process and acts quickly. Quicker than you can even react.

tigressb00bl0v3r: finally my time to shine!

Deft fingers loosen the bow of your bra causing it to easily slide down your arms. Warm hands palm eagerly at your breasts, kneading and squeezing and squishing them at a much more aggressive rate than in the shower before.

kingh0ng: now we're talking

cumdaywh0ring: SCREAMING

cumdaywh0ring: creaming

cumdaywh0ring: jerking off

cumdaywh0ring: yEs

tigressb00bl0v3r: i love boobs <3

Soonyoung's harsh yet pleasurable groping means you've stopped moving, the attention to your chest keeping you captive both physically and mentally. So he kindly picks up the initiative, desperate rutting of hips up against your pussy as if he was actually fucking you from below.

The man wishes he could be whispering all sorts of naughty shit in your ear but the ball gag keeps him silent save for the groans and whines coming from his chest and throat. Drool dribbles onto your left shoulder creating a shimmering sheen of saliva for the camera that eventually ends up coating the upper swell of your breast.

tigressb00bl0v3r: god i wish that were me 😩

dickarawrous420: u and me both 🤝

He goes on long enough for a copious amount of spit to aid his hand in gliding with smoother ease across your skin. Messier. Faster. Harder. The extra slipperiness only makes him apply more pressure to grip and grab at your tit, causing a low moan to build in your throat out of pity for the more neglected one. You feel the rumble of humor in Soonyoung's chest against your back and your brain has to fizzle out the tingles and remind your body to fight against the pleasure you're receiving in order to take back control.

Who's the one holding the leash anyways?

"Stop," you say sternly and place a hand on his forearm, noting the way those muscles twitch in response.

kitkat69: mama using big words now 🫢

sugacub3: seriousness is such a turn on

But the little bastard continues to fondle your other breast without pause so you reach behind, yanking at the band of the collar. He moans. The audacity.

"What did I just say, Hoshi? You know only good boys who listen get rewarded, do you not want yours?" You pretend to wait for a reply. "Oh, that's right you can't talk, so I guess someone else should make that decision. What's the verdict, loves — has he earned his?"

dickarawrous420: absolutely not

wooluv: he's a good boi to ME

h0n3ybun: even good boys need a lesson

deathbyd1cks: punish him! 😈 make him beg bby!!

NewUser88963: tie him up and teach him some manners

8starfucks: touching w/o permission is a BIG 🙅🙅🙅🙅

"Should've kept your hands to yourself, baby boy. Looks like they wanna see you pay for not listening. And honestly, I do too."

You're quick to switch to your original position so you can face him again and Soonyoung isn't afraid nor ashamed to admit to himself that the wild, unhinged look in your eyes is crazy sexy. It's almost enough to make up for the loss of contact with one of his favorite parts of your body. He would have never, ever pictured himself submitting to anyone during sex but it comes quite naturally when it's you. Though a part of him that's not his cock aches, wondering if this is truly all for the camera as usual or what you're really like.

Will he ever know?

Those thoughts are luckily banished quickly when you dictate he put his arms behind his back. He complies, grateful to even have this kind of opportunity despite the circumstances, and focuses on doing his best to enjoy every moment.

"I'm even going to do you a favor because I like you so much and would hate to punish you more for additional misbehavior."

deathbyd1cks: oh??? 🫢

horny49yu: 🍿 😋

crazy4w00: 😎 this is better than a kdrama

newuserjk: am i the only one who feels like im missing smth???

4ngelic_m3nace: yeah im missing some1 tied up on MY bed

cherry_scouper95: idk bout yall im just here to get off 😗 ✌️

To be honest, you planned on never touching the hideous handcuffs Junhui gave you even if they were free. For multiple reasons. Banished and stashed away in the very bottom of your dresser drawers, you are quite proud of the substitution you'd chosen to use instead.

Unclipping the leash in case Soonyoung might accidentally choke himself anyways (though he might like that), you loop the leather strap across his wrists and forearms until it's bound tight enough just to remind him it's there if he gets too impatient. It'd be a joke to think that could actually restrain him if he really tried to break free. Still, it's great for theatrics.

All the while, you're murmuring in his ear if he's doing alright even though the establishment of safety words and signals were already made very clear before this all started. Your best friend assuages any worries with an imperceptible nod that only you can feel though he whines audibly over Svthub's steady cash flow notification at your bare chests brushing against one another.

You relieve him (thankfully) by moving away (sadly) and deliberately brush against his cock (evilly) with your knee when you sit yourself prettily on his thigh. His eyes roll back instantly, hips stuttering at the teasing action as well as the spongy material of your panties saturating his bare thigh.

He huffs wetly, chin and throat, inside and outside, coated with drool. Incoherent noises, a mixture of whimpers and words he's trying to say, grow louder in desperation when you start grinding with no mercy, riding his thigh at an unforgiving pace that's wildly fast. Your hands grip at the covers behind you for support as you thrust your hips towards him and then away, knee inching closer to once again nudge his hardness with your motions. Messy cunt oozing so much arousal, the viewers don't have to listen too hard to hear the nasty sound of soiled fabric sliding against skin.

beg4gyu: i debated if i should watch this or not

beg4gyu: i caved,,,,,,, im weak

beg4gyu: i can live w/ this tho

beg4gyu: esp if tigress uses him like a hq dildo

wooluv: hey!

beg4gyu: hi!

wooluv: (derogatory)

wooluv: sorry it's not my strong suit

beg4gyu: 🤨 um

beg4gyu: n e wayz glad to see i didn't miss much

Comment wars rage on as usual but you're too occupied to care. It was a hard choice to decide on at first. The ridges of Soonyoung's abs and the insane vein that leads down all the way to the mushroomed tip of his cock surely would have felt divine rubbing between the folds of your pussy. Perhaps that would have to wait until you were unclothed next —

Or just forget about it. There won't be a next time. There can't be. So you must let it leave your mind.

It's not hard because his thigh wholly takes away any thoughts that even might enter your head, by far surpassing your expectations and dispelling any indication of disappointment. He flexes and releases the muscle just enough so it catches that sweet clit of yours at different points and angles while you slide back and forth. He'd give anything to push his knee up and temptingly stuff your soaked panties a teeny tiny bit inside your hole with a sinful squelch.

Alas, he fears the repercussions if he tries to do too much. Content with the way your breasts jiggle cutely, wishing you were still wearing the pendant that you came home from the gym in so he could watch it bounce and sparkle in time with them.

You're moaning shamelessly now, mouth set in a gorgeous "O" and cute moans, almost squeals, coming out as you ride his thigh with even more vigor. Soonyoung hopes — prays — that you'll cum. Nearly cracking the ball gag with how hard his mouth squeezes around it in anticipation.

The minute that thought resonates in his head, your body seizes up. Lower body shakes and shudders, lifting upwards… up, up, and up… enough for him to spy a hint of the dark green satin color turned black where it's wedged in between the puffy, soppy lips of your cunt that spasms slightly around the ruined fabric.

His eyes threaten to roll up out of pure delirium but he can't bear to look away and miss this moment.

Oh god, and then when you somehow have the wherewithal to move off of his thigh to engage with the hungry viewers that adore watching you come undone (who doesn't?), he just about faints. You even have the gall to wink at him over your shoulder and bet how many orgasms he can give you. He can't bother to try and pay attention as you continue to praise him in front of everyone watching just to egg on the comments and the long, blazing bling of money pouring in.

Something itches at him. Soonyoung's well aware of the incredible amounts of arousal you're able to conjure with some lube helping you play with during your streams but he's floored. He could definitely feel the wet mess you were making on him. And then to see it. Slathered all over and across like he'd been oiled, it strikes a pleasant possessiveness as if you staked your claim on him. He watches star-eyed at the tiny quivers in your legs while you try and regain your breath.

Down bad, the poor man is. You'd be the death of him.

wooluv: i might have to accept i will never be as cool as tigress

wooluv: or as hot

"Aw that's not true, wooluv baby!"

h0n3ybun: believe in urself luv!!

wooluv: 😭 💔

"Seriously. Oh and hello, beg4gyu! Missed you."

beg4gyu: 😳 ME?????

"Yes, you silly. You were fighting with Hoshi during my last stream!"

beg4gyu: i was?

"He was under a different screen name but yes, it was so funny."

beg4gyu: yeah i mean i was and i was totally winning

You snort, shaking your head to hide your eye roll. "If you say so!"

beg4gyu: also… important -

deathbyd1cks: 🥱🥱🥱🥱🥱

crazy4w00: 😴😴😴😴😴😴

horny49yu: 😪😪😪😪

beg4gyu: what's w/ all the haterz???

beg4gyu: this is a judgment free zone

beg4gyu: N E WAYZ why is he called 0rginaltiger if he's 69th 🤔🤔🤔

That makes you laugh and turn back to Soonyoung with a devious smirk, hand brushing against his bulging cheek. "Wanna tell 'em, tiger boy?"

It's a mocking tone you use, the ball gag still in his mouth obviously preventing the man from uttering anything except incomprehensible sounds at this point. He's not below begging in whatever way desired — rather be drowning in your arousal than his own saliva — and raises his eyebrows pleadingly. Dancer hips hump up pathetically but oh-so-temptingly, another strangled whine thrown in for good measure and shiny eyes threatening to tear up.

Of course, you concede to finally taking it and helping with his boxers after removing the leash that's left pretty red streaks across his forearms showing where he strained against the binding. Your hands brush tenderly across the marks, a questioning hum while you wait for him to collect himself to respond.

"Guess we should," Soonyoung eventually chokes out in a raspy voice, "ya know…" a little too eager in the way he reaches for your hips, "demonstrate."

You click your tongue and gently yank on the collar before he can touch. His upper body jerks forward, merely inches from your face, nose brushing against his.

"I don't remember you having the control here, Hoshi."

"Ah, but don't forget to lemme know if I'm doing a good job like before… "

And with that, you respond by pushing against his chest after the saucy wink and smirk sent your way. Urging your best friend to lay down on his back so you can place your knees around his waist, untying one side of your panties with a flourish while he rushes to slide a naughty hand over to assist with the other. Across the room they fly, joining the discarded toys on the floor with the nastiest splat imaginable.

NewUser94594: holy shit! 🫣 💦

dickarawrous420: my god... 👅

deathbyd1cks: 👁️ did sum1 say before?

deathbydicks: hahaha n e ways — ruined ☑

You can't even be bothered to care, all your focus instead on the heat of your bare cunt pressed against Soonyoung's hard abs just as you imagined. He seems to be in a better mood and is finally obeying. But you don't like the look of the mischievous glint in his eyes when his teeth sink into his bottom lip, feeling what a sopping mess you still are.

He's covered in it. And he hopes for more.

"You're so fuckin' beautiful," slips out before he can stop it which causes you to click your tongue to cover up the fact you're extremely flattered, cheeks aflame.

"Looks like I'll have to shut you up, huh?"

Twisting around and moving further up his body until your fluttering hole is over his mouth, you see his brow raise questionably.

"Aren't you gonna... ?"

"Work for it," you interrupt with a command and don't wait for his reply before seating yourself against his swollen lips. "Work for it and maybe I'll suck you off as a reward, baby boy."

sugacub3: this is SOOOO unfair

kingh0ng: im abt to unalive

kingh0ng: i cant keep edging myself like this

kingh0ng: the drs r getting worried

AnonymousUser9999: weak

jejusb00s: concerning

There is zero hesitation in doing as demanded. Obviously. A vigorous tongue swirls to spell out his own name sloppily — s o o n y o u n g — against your sensitive clit, dipping into and all around your quivering pussy with each swipe, prod, and glide as you settle more and more of your weight onto his face. Tiny bites of cold metal from his earrings sting as they dig into your skin and only add to the pleasure.

The man underneath you growls, absolutely feral in his euphoria, not minding being smothered one bit as your knees practically crush the sides of his skull. He would die a happy man this way. Nodding his head up and down in agreement then back and forth, nose coincidentally brushing against the rim of your asshole.

You shiver at the sensation. Despite never having done any anal play, it's not that much of a turn-off. Paired with the vibrations from the noises he's making that fires off and alights your nervous system somehow even better than the XXL vibrator gift from Seokmin and his girlfriend, you're on some kind of otherworldly high. And his dick isn't even inside of you yet —

"Hah, he's… gawd, he's so good… at this!"

It's not like you forgot the only plea Sooonyoung asked of you but it's also not hard to fake or hold back the moans and praises that fall easily out of your mouth with his ministrations. Fully sitting back all the way, a treat to the viewers who can get a peek at your occupied lower body atop his shiny chin. Watching his jaw and tongue fervently working in tandem as he continues autographing your pussy. Sitting on his face like you belong there — which you do.

Only because his lungs are screaming for air, not because he's satisfied, is the reason he taps your ankle three times. Honestly, you find it a struggle to lift up and fall forward onto your forearms instead, the rest of your body prone against his. Soonyoung's rendered you weak, especially as he parts from your cunt with a lecherous wet smack like he's just had the messiest make out of the century.

He kind of has.

You're left with your mouth hanging wide open and panting — though not as hard as he is — a flurry of emotions as your mind can only think of one thing. It's no surprise when drool dribbles out of the corner of your parted lips, perfectly falling onto the angry red cock below you that jumps adorably in shock at the contact.

deathbyd1cks: hehehehehe dick drunk dick drunk dick drunk 🙇

deathbyd1cks: called it!

deathbyd1cks: 💵💵💵💵💵💵

h0n3ybun: i mean it IS pretty

horny49yu: THICC

newuserkjk: still feel like im missing smth

beg4gyu: its like a 100

beg4gyu: out of 100000000000000000000

wooluv: jealous much?

A wonky, dazed smile and a flutter of eyelashes dampened by tears is sent to the camera. While you might not be reading their comments, you can only imagine how they're eating this shit up. You let more drool accumulate and collect on the center of your tongue (easy with how good you feel and the sight before you), sticking it out so a singular clear strand can drip down from the tip.

Like a baker drizzles icing on their cake with a spoon, you direct your head in various directions over his length. Eyeing greedily as it twitches agreeably and leaks more precum at the teasing, barely-there warm liquid that instantly cools beginning to coat it.

Whether out of repayment or retaliation, Soonyoung catches his breath and gathers up the moisture in his mouth (that probably consists more of your arousal than saliva), and then spits. Right at the pretty folds of your pussy that are eye-level if he keeps his neck lifted. Hungrily watching through a lidded gaze as it slides between them and mixes in with the sloppy cream that's starting to seep out and threatens to spill onto his chest.

"This pussy…! Fuck, is it so perfect… totally made f'me."

His voice is choked and raspy. Like hell he'd waste any droplets of yours, vowing for them to only fall on his tongue. Hastily grabbing at your hips, pulling you back onto his mouth, and kneading at the plushness of your asscheeks before delivering a playful and light slap to them — daring you to finally suck him off.

And you do, reverently picking up his thick length with trembling hands. Marveling how it even makes your hands look small around it. Lying hot and heavy in your hold, you can feel the blood raging through its veiny prominence.

Then your lips are suckling at the tip, re-addicted to the salty tang you previewed thanks to the ball gag. Soonyoung lets out a grateful moan of relief and you echo it because of the satisfying taste of him.

horny49yu: actually

horny49yu: bad day to be a bisexual if youre not between them

4ngelic_m3nace: where do i sign up to be a part of this???

beg4gyu: bruh

beg4gyu: not b4 me 😑

deathbyd1cks: is sum1 having their bi awakening?

beg4gyu: no but

beg4gyu: ill do anything for tigress

wooluv: 😳 i think i might

deathbyd1cks: amen to that 🙏

Your best friend's now almost halfway inside your mouth while he's been tongue-deep inside of you in exchange. Granted, Soonyoung is only occasionally flicking your clit now, much lazier thrusts as he tongues and laps around your hole because it would be a lie to say he's not mildly distracted at long last by being enveloped with your warm mouth.

That's perfectly fine though, allowing a clearer mind to pay attention to him instead. Your head bobs up and down in a methodical, slow way until the tip of his shaft slips down your throat. Staying like that for as long as you can without breathing before popping off, proud of yourself for not gagging.

Practicing with your toys for the past week must've paid off.

(Of course, you would die before you ever admitted that to Soonyoung, and likewise. Because if you asked him if he wanted to hear your gags, the answer is an obvious yes — but admitting it? Over his dead body.)

You get more comfortable, breasts squishing against his thighs, forearms strewn across his calves so you can fondle at his ballsack while you work him deeper and deeper down your throat each try. Soonyoung mimics you, arms thrown across your lower back as he moans against your pussy. More than pleased when you start an unhurried, inconsistent grind that he happily continues to supply his drenched face for.

You're not even trying to look pretty for the camera, slobbering all over the place like you're devouring one of those ginormous round lollipops, nor did you intend to make such a mess. Who knows if it's precum or saliva dripping down between his balls? But there's so much that you can smear all around and all over like a heathen.

Only adding to all of it by briefly neglecting his cock (hand replacing your mouth to jerk him off because you're nice like that) and giving a love-suckle to each one of them simply because you can't resist with them right there for the taking.

kingh0ng: can it be a concern to cum sm???

cherry_scouper95: dude fr?? need to work on ur stamina

cherry_scouper95: get laid finally or smth

kingh0ng: im not a virgin!

h0n3ybun: no shame if u r

kingh0ng: w/ the amt of times i use my hands to these shows i could be tho 😔

Soonyoung must be feeling the same way you do if his loud, open-mouthed moan and warm breath ricocheting against your clit are anything to go by. It might just be the hottest thing you've ever experienced, cunt squeezing deathly around his poised tongue that dips in and almost gets trapped.

He growls, freeing it, and slaps your ass again, soothingly squeezing the sting away. Arms muscles taut as he holds your hips up and away so he doesn't quite literally drown in all of your arousal.

Still, licking his lips and tasting more of your tantalizing essence on them, he desires more.

"Think I can make you squirt?" He also thinks he deserves even more. "With just my tongue? Or… " A finger traces around the soft skin of your pussy lips, admiring the clenching and unclenching hole above him. "My fingers? Think you can do it for me, sweet thing?"

Instead of replying, you simply turn your head to the side so you can meet his dark brown, carnal eyes. Teeth scrape along that devastating vein and nibble on the sensitive skin that connects his pelvis to his cock.

"Watch it," he hisses, "easy, babe."

You whine, batting your eyelashes and mouth first curving downwards as it presses against his lower body before curling upwards in a smirk. "Only ever squirted with a dildo."

Soonyoung eyes your tiger lily tattoo and places an oddly domestic-like smooch to it. "Of course, the brat would challenge me."

"Wasn't — "

You let out the most unflattering squeak as he drops you back down on his mouth, slurping at your cunt again with an addition of a harsh suck. Before you can let him get too carried away, you match his pace.

beg4gyu: am i just a fly on the wall????

beg4gyu: do i even exist here?????

wooluv: 🥲 no

wooluv: none of us do

deathbyd1cks: baby im not even here im a hallucination 👍

Licking from the base up to the slit that's trembling in your hold as your hand runs up a different vein, this time on the underside of his dick after another teasing squeeze to his balls. Deep-throating with much more ease, swallowing two to three times before coming up for air, and diving back down again.

Rinse and repeat.

Soonyoung's hand sneaks between your body and his lower lip to fondle at your clit, pinching and pulling like a demon, though gentle in his actual administrations. The lovingly clumsy mannerisms of your best friend before are nowhere to be found in this pussy-drunk beast of a man who aims with precision at all your exact weak spots. Or maybe he was like that all along…

And that's perfectly fine because damn Seokmin but he was right — you're positively, utterly, completely dick-drunk.

"In love with… in love with this pussy of yours," he rasps out and you mumble nonsense with a full mouth, responding more with the enticing wiggle of your hips. Encouraging him to bring you to that precipice, over it, and more while you return the favor.

deathbyd1cks: 📹 damn almost caught it in 4k

AnonymousUser7021: was there a lag??? did i miss smth??

deathbyd1cks: the confession of the century 😔 ✊

wooluv: HUH?

beg4gyu: HWAT???? THEYRE A THING???

crazy4w00: well not yet…

wooluv: 💔 so there's still hope 🥹

h0n3ybun: cute

cherry_scouper95: cute n all but r we ever gonna finish here??

cherry_scouper95: this dude's stamina…

kingh0ng: now who's weak? 😆 🫵

cherry_scouper95: 🖕

You're almost just as frustrated as cherry_scouper95. A mix of a growl and whine rises in your throat whenever it's granted reprieve in between thrusts, nails scratching and leaving crescent moon marks along his tense, sticky thighs. Because goddamn, even though his cock looks so achingly hard that it could probably stay up straight on its own, growing more difficult to bend it down your throat — he shows barely a hint of nearing that sweet release. You huff, cold air whooshing across his shaft and balls that has him jolting beneath you.

A brain cell lights up.

Sliding down his body, away from his mouth, and ignoring the devastating loss as well as his surprised groan of disappointment. Focusing as it turns to one that is pleasantly breathless in enjoyment when your breasts squish around his length instead. Pornographic moans ring out as the back of his head hits the mattress and shameful cries of "baby, babe, love," fill the air, so loud that the viewers have to lower their volume by a few decibels.

"Oh, fuck… "

It only takes two slides up and down between your tits before Soonyoung's hips take on a mind of their own without your hands to hold him still. Rutting unapologetically and unforgiving up into the enclosed space, using your chest like it was nothing but a cocksleeve or fleshlight toy.

You revel in it.

Appreciating the pathetic grips and grabs at your asscheeks as he fails to ground himself. Sticking out your tongue to meet the pretty pink head that pokes through with each thrust tugging the foreskin back and forth as it rubs against your soft, tender skin.

You're positive he's almost lost control, surely chafing your skin despite the insane amount of wetness. Of course, you don't mind at all and add whatever moisture is left in your mouth so it can drip down your shared bodies, mixing in with the filthy, sopping mess that's probably ruined your bed.

Soonyoung's intent on that promise, finally gathering hold on some of his wits to raise his head back up. Removing a hand to prop it behind his neck, the other one trails downward, pulling the fat of your ass slightly up. Your lower body presses into his to support the actions of your chest and torso but he's still able to see your empty hole leaking arousal all over the front of his body.

You're right where he needs you. Wants you.

A digit pushes in to bury inside your cunt that greets the welcome, thick intrusion with a sickening squelch. He starts knuckle-deep out of caution before exploring farther, middle finger (essentially giving the viewers a big "fuck all of you" while inside your pussy) readily seeking out that bundle of nerves to brush against that he found in the shower. Stroking them relentlessly once found by his finger nestled within, and grinning sadistically when you cry out. Clit rubbing against the rough, top indentations of his abs.

"C'mon, baby… soak me. I know this nasty little hole can do it, know you can do it." Soonyoung growls when you feebly garble out his screen name. "That's right… mark me, baby 'n make me yours. Bet they're all crying out for you right now. But you'll do it all for me, just f'me, right?"

A strangled "Yes, Hoshi!" is ripped out of you followed by a wrecked sob as you grope at your nipples out of habit, coincidentally continuing to squeeze and release your tits around his weeping shaft.

"Together!" you also beg with a scream, pleading for his release as well. The repetitive pulsating of his cock gains more consistency to match the rapid thumping of your heart beating in time against it which thrills you.

"Together," he confirms, "always."

AnonymousUser1205: wow hot damn

beg4gyu: just bc hes right doesnt mean he has to say it

beg4gyu: esp if he gets to be w/tigress >:(

cumdaywh0ring: let's gooooo

cumdaywh0ring: let's fcking gooooooooo

There's an audible hiss heard from both of you as your pussy lips tighten around Sooonyoung's finger, almost cutting off his circulation like a rubber band wound too many times. Cunt suctioning yet pushing him out, trapped as if his digit is a fish caught up in a dam, as you start to gush. Droplets of your essence dribbling down his flexed wrist that attempts to thrust within its limited range to coax you through your climax more.

"That's it, that's a good fuckin' baby," he praises and grunts, white spurts of cum erupting as his own release hits. "My baby. Take it, love. Take all of it 'cause you're mine, aren't you?"

The feeling of his cum hitting your face, tits, and mouth that's open already from moaning like the true star cammer that you are plus his hoarse voice repeating the demanding possession of, "Aren't you?," has you screaming out a confirmative "Yes, baby!". And then you're really gushing, squirting as desired because of his fingers and mouth, harder than you ever thought you could be capable of. Successfully ejecting Soonyoung's digit out in a spray that seems to last an eternity as you seize up and shudder and shake until you can give no more.

Most of it lands on his chest, dousing him and wetting the poor bed. With both of his arms free, he can basically do a light curl-up, tongue sticking out to catch whatever he can like a heathen. His balls empty and empty out across your face until his cock finally plops against your rubbed-raw chest, almost as weary as you are as it starts to soften.

You may look like a complete and utter mess and wreck. But no one thinks you could look any prettier than you do now in this moment, especially Soonyoung whose muscles protest when he forces himself to move.

kingh0ng: is this heaven or hell

newuserjk: why not… limbo 😼

h0n3ybun: oh?

deathbyd1cks: 😏

newuserjk: $5 off, sale ends in 2 min!

wooluv: my god… 😓 these ads

kitkat69: imma need 10 business days to recover,,,,

He fumbles a bit, hazy mind struggling to stop the livestream as he hastily thanks everyone for watching. Once it appears to have turned off, he chews on his bottom lip and decides to just power off the whole computer system for good measure.

"Hey." Handing you a water bottle after downing a few sips, he also grabs the towels and wipes from the table you'd prepared beforehand. Laying them down on the upper, cleaner part of the bed and collapsing back on the mattress with a bounce. "You with me, babe?"

Though your eyes are still glassy, you nod. Relief as the water soothes your scratchy throat. "I am, you good?"

"Perfect."

You both know you need to clean up properly before resting but it seems alright for now to just lay there and catch your breath. Soonyoung pulls you into his chest, rubbing circles on your back as a chill sets in — metaphorically and physically — in the sudden eerie silence shared between just the two of you in this room.

"Thank you."

Your best friend giggles. He goddamn giggles. "Was I that good that you're thanking me?"

A beat of silence.

"Honestly, yeah you were. More than good, you were great. With everything. So yeah, thank you."

"No, thank you." It's said with such gratitude, such conviction, and then a kiss is placed on the top of your head. Your heart thuds erratically. "You were perfect. Everything I've ever imagined and more."

"S-Soonyoung? "

"Hm?"

"… Wake me up in ten."

"Okay. But we'll have to wash up after, alright?"

You nod against his chest, shutting your eyes tightly. He inhales deeply, jostling you a bit to reach his phone and set the timer before tossing it onto the bed. Both of you miss when your respective phones light up with new messages.

"Soonyoung?"

"Yeah?"

Despite the way you want to relax and pretend like there's not the looming elephant in the room to face, you have to ask.

Even if it hurts.

"So… what happens next?"

◇ Find out more in Part 3... cumming soon 😉 (like to charge, reblog to cast)

#ez.creates #svthub #kwon hoshi smut #hoshi smut #kwon soonyoung smut #soonyoung smut #kpop smut #kvanity #smut #svt smut #seventeen smut #svt.smut #1k 🌟

1K notes · View notes

onlyjaeyun · 1 year

Text

𝐏𝐎𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐍 – 𝟒𝟖

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐓𝐘𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓: 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲

⤲ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐋𝐞𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

⤲ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐞!𝐀𝐔, 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝!𝐀𝐔, 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭, 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭

⤲ 𝐰𝐜: 𝟕𝐤 (not proofread)

⤲ 𝐜𝐰: 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐡𝐨𝐥, 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬, 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐯𝐨𝐲𝐞𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐦, 𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐥 (𝐦.𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠), 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥, 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

"Lee Heeseung, your girlfriend is crying again."

With your lips pressed tightly together, furrowed brows and teary eyes you land a hard smack on the back of Jaeyun's neck, basically fed up with his constant teasing after a four hour flight and having to spend the whole morning listening to his random rambles about physics and the development of the roman empire.

Your boyfriend's ears almost instantly perk up at the mention of your tears and before the barista can even hand him his change he's already busy approaching you with concern grazing his features.

"What's wrong, Baby?" Heeseung whispers the words and leaves a good amount of physical distance between you as you both can feel your brother's gaze following your every movement, only for his girlfriend to push her finger into his strong chest and scold him for being so dramatic.

All you can do is thank her with your eyes as they join Jongseong in the very back of the coffee shop, while Jaeyun waits for your drinks and has finally decided to take a break.

"These are happy tears, my love, I promise", you quickly say and reach for his face, gently caressing his cheek and loving the way your boyfriend doesn't hesitate to move further into your touch, "I just know this is going to do wonders for Wonie's mental health, I've been so worried since our last call."

Heeseung nods in agreement, his own chest still feeling heavy as he remembers the sadness in his cousin's voice throughout the entirety of your phone conversation a few days ago.

Little did either one of you know that your boyfriend and brother had been trying their best to organise a paid internship for you in one of their companies, knowing you had sent in your applications yet again after your first ones had gotten rejected. Once Heeseung got the approval from his boss, him and Hoon had decided to book the tickets for your best friend's birthday weekend because they knew you wouldn't hesitate to quit your job at the coffee shop, therefore clearing your schedule.

Everything happened way too quickly and if it wasn't for the fact you're currently looking at the huge "Welcome to Daegu" banner in the middle of the city's biggest airport, processing it all would have been a lot more difficult.

The thought of working at the same company as your brother, his girlfriend as well as your own boyfriend seemed scary but after talking to each one of them, those worries quickly vanished and were replaced by excitement instead.

And the fact a great opportunity such as this one came with the amazing clearance of your schedule and actually allowed you to be with your best friend for his birthday has been the reason for your overly emotional state these past four days.

Life finally feels good and for the first time in your life you don't have to constantly fight to survive but actually feel yourself living in the moment, mostly thanks to your loved ones.

With pouted lips and tired eyes you look up at your boyfriend and quickly bury your face in his strong, warm chest, the exhaustion from your travel journey finally catching up on you.

"I'm gonna make sure you two will have the best time ever", Heeseung sighs and wraps his arms around your shoulders, "these past few weeks have been exhausting for all of us, this is just a way for everyone to live and breathe a little."

You nod softly and kiss your way from his warm neck up to his chin before pressing your lips against his and the way your boyfriend barely hesitates to push his tongue into your mouth makes you chuckle intot he kiss.

"Calm down, big guy", you sigh and pull away once Jaeyun calls for the two of you, "Ning can only hold back my brother so much, we shouldn't test his patience."

"Yeah, you're right. I'm just glad we're not on the same floor in the hotel because I'd rather punch myself in the face for hours before I go five whole days without fucking the sweetest pussy on earth."

Seung's voice is a mere whisper, yet his unhinged words leave you completely flustered and with a roll of your eyes you bury your face in his neck again and pinch his arm to let him know how little you appreciate his teasing in public. Especially with your brother and their best friends so close to you.

Once the six of you make it to your hotel rooms, the boys decide to take a walk around the city, grab some late lunch and play some basketball in the little court in the kids area of your accommodations to pass some time but also get rid of their exhaustion. You and Ning on the other hand have decided to actually take a nap after a flight this tiring, as you wait for Sunoo, Jungwon's roommate, to finally call and let you know where the three of them had decided to spend the evening.

You didn't want to just show up at his door but rather join in on his plans and once his friend had told you about your best friend's wish to go to a night club, you got even more excited. It's been way too long since the two of you had partied together, however you'd lie if you said you actually went out to a club since moving to seoul exactly six months ago.

Too much had constantly happened, adjusting to work and university, living by yourself and of course the whole situation with your now boyfriend had basically not left any room to party.

You and the girls still occasionally went to bars yet these past few weeks life just felt too exhausting, so you usually stayed at home and kept things easy and calm.

However, now the thought of going to a club with your boyfriend and best friend excites you in the best way possible and you actually can't wait to join the boys.

By the time Heeseung comes out of the shower you've already gotten dressed, and are currently doing your best for the make uo look in your head to become reality, yet as soon as you catch a glimpse of Lee Heeseung wearing nothing but a towel around his hips, you physically can't stop yourself from eyeing him up and down.

"Don't you dare look at me like that right now, princess", he suddenly chuckles and comes to stand right behind you, his body too tall to fit into the frame of the mirror in front of you and at the sight of his pierced nipples you nervously start nibbling on your bottom lip.

"Can't help it", you sigh and take a deep breath as soon as his big hand gently wraps around your throat, his eyes fixated on your face as he remains composed, "you just look so good like this."

Unfortunately, neither one of you gets the opportunity to indulge in a short moment of intimacy, as the vibration of your boyfriend's phone right next to you pulls you both back into the reality and with a soft sigh of annoyance.

"It's Jaeyun, isn't it?"

Heeseung just nods and picks up the call with another sigh before he gives you a quick kiss and goes to get himself dressed.

Once the two of you are ready, it's taking you a lot of patience and self control not to rip your boyfriend's clothes off of him right away, the sight too tempting for your weak self.

But who in their right mind could blame you when it's Lee Heeseung in a black dress shirt, which he hasn't even bothered to button up completely, showing just the right amount of chest, combined with his casual slacks and a leather jacket.

You can't help but stare at him with big, hungry eyes, enjoying the way he seems confident and comfortable in his skin to the point where he shoots you one of his charming smirks and winks every time your gaze meets his.

However, you're pretty sure you've managed to cause the same reaction from your boyfriend, as he seems to struggle keeping his hands off of you.

Your little black dress fits your body like a glove, tight and charming in all the right places and in combination with your little jacket and your knee high boots you know you've got people's heads turning, yet all you care about is the way your boyfriend looks at you.

After about fifteen minutes of arguing how many ubers to order, you find yourself in a car with your boyfriend and his two best friend's, both of them slightly tipsy as they had decided to drink a little before leaving to avoid spending too much money on overpriced drinks and the closer you get to the club, the faster your heart starts beating.

Heeseung's hand remains on your thigh throughout the whole drive and you hate just how a touch as simple as that has already pushed you to the edge of your arousal to the point where you genuinely consider pulling him into the next alley just to get some relief.

But as soon as your phone starts vibrating in your hand and Kim Sunoo's contact name appears on your screen, you feel excitement and anticipation take over.

The second you guys arrive in front of the club, Heeseung's instinct kicks in and despite his best friend's expression of distaste, he doesn't let go of your hand and keeps you as close to himself as possible. He can't risk getting into a fight when his best friends are already as tipsy as they currently are because even if his skills are good, there's no way he stands a chance against a group without his boys having his back.

You calmly lean against the chest of your boyfriend as you wait for your best friend to finally arrive as well and as soon as you spot Nishimura Riki's tall frame get out of the nth uber passing by, a wave of relief washes over you.

Tonight is going to be a good night.

"No. Fucking. Way."

The sound of your best friend's voice sends chills over your body and with a loud squeak you pull away from Heeseung to run into Jungwon's arms, wishing him a happy birthday and taking in the warmth of his body and the comfort his hug comes with.

"You guys are fucking with me right now", he says and looks at you with his pretty eyes slightly glossier than usual, his lips stretched into a big smile until his dimples make an appearance and with a loud chuckle you just shake your head.

"This is literally the best birthday present ever." Jungwon chuckles and you love the way you can actually watch some of the heaviness on his shoulder slowly vanish as he pulls you into another tight hug.

"Then wait until Seungie tells you he's gonna pay for all the drinks tonight", you say and turn around to face said boyfriend with a big smile, not aware just how much he loves the sight of your happiness.

He casually approaches the four of you, dabbing up the two boys really quick before he pulls his cousin into a tight hug.

For some reason you can't help but let your eyes roam his tall figure for the nth time tonight, yet quickly getting it together when Sunoo elbows you in the ribs and starts giggling.

Once everyone hugged each other and Sunghoon proudly introduced the boys to Ning, you finally make your way into the club, your boyfriend's arm firmly wrapped around your waist and you can barely stop yourself from jumping his bones right then and there.

Especially once you guys find a little table to take over in the very back of the club, yet only half of you having space to sit doen and you notice all the girls shamelessly eyeing your boyfriend up and down. You know he's not paying attention to them, yet sudden waves of jealousy and possessivness overwhelm you and as soon as your brother and Jaeyun leave to get everyone the first round of drinks, you jump up from your seat and wrap your arms around your boyfriend's neck.

"They're staring at you", you whisper into his ear and place a soft kiss on his exposed neck, loving the way Heeseung seems to struggle holding himself back as you push your body against his. His grip on your hips tightens and you love how your usually so composed lover turns into absolute putty in your hands within just a few seconds.

"So what? It's you I'm staring at", Heeseung grunts and buries his face in your neck, suppressing the urge to kiss his way down to your exposed cleavage and actually litter your pretty chest in his kisses.

The loud music as well as the lack of oxygen in the club sends you into the sweetest haze of adrenaline and in combination with your boyfriend's addictive touches, you feel yourself letting go of all your worries and doubts that have been keeping you up at night these last few weeks.

"And it's me you're going to fuck tonight, right?" You tease and push your hands into his dark hair, pulling away just enough to look into his eyes, yet having to bite back a whimper at the darkness of his gaze.

"Tonight, tomorrow and for the rest of my life, princess."

His words send your brain into overdrive and with a soft whimper you hide your face in his chest and actually feel relieved when your friend starts cheering in response to their drinks' arrival and with a soft sigh you give your boyfriend one last kiss and pull away, knowing Jungwon's going to pull you to the dance floor as soon as he downs his shot.

You quickly lose track of time as soon as you find yourself dancing to the music alongside your brother's girlfriend and the boys, all of them cheering you on as you give it your all and for some reason you're not as shy as you usually are and you're quite convinced Lee Heeseung's strong gaze lingering on the whole time is the reason behind your confidence.

But it's also seeing just how happy Jungwon is, your worries and thoughts about him finally vanishing from your brain as you wrap as you watch his dance battle with the youngest of the group.

It doesn't take much more for your boyfriend to finally having had enough as he pushes his way through the crowd, completely ignoring all the girls trying their best to catch his attention, only to fail miserably. You welcome the warmth of his strong body in your back with a soft smile, pushing yourself even harder against him, knowing exactly what you're doing to him with every sway of your hips against his crotch, the bulge in his pants essily giving away your effect on him.

Heeseung's hands find home on your waist, his grip as tight as ever as he moves his body along to yours and you can't help but throw your head back against his shoulder when he suddenly starts singing the lyrics of the song into your ear, the experience feeling absolutely surreal and just when you thought he couldn't get any more perfect, you find yourself living yet another one of your daydreams.

The rest of the night is filled with belly hurting laughter, way too much screaming of wrong lyrics to the songs blasting in the club, quite a bit of bickering and stolen touches from your boyfriend. You have absolutely no idea how three whole hours pass by so quickly, only realising how much you've been dancing when Ning finally pulls you to the women's room, her drunk giggles and her attemots of a conversation all while being barely coherent pushing you into another fit of laughter and after about ten minutes of you trying to gatch your breath in front of the mirror, you hear the deep voice of your brother making its way through the door.

"We're heading out, the guys wanna eat some beef and play basketball", Sunghoon screams and can't help but smile when all he gets in response is the sound of your combined giggles, "hurry the fuck up. Seung's about to shut down the club if you two take any longer."

At the mention of your boyfriend, you feel your whole body heating up and with a soft sigh and a nibble on your freshly glossed up lips, you take one last picture with your sister in law and finally swing the door open.

This time it's Jungwon who seems to be a lot more protective over you as he takes your hand in his and guides you through the crowd to the exit of the club, feeling responsible of you while your boyfriend is busy paying for everyone's drinks.

And just as your brother had announced to you, the group makes its way to a barbecue place nearby, hungry and excited after all the dancing, only for your night to end at the basketball court you and Heeseung had found during your last stay in Daegu.

You don't even question where the hell the baskteball suddenly gomes from as you watch your boyfriend and his friends play a few food rounds, the cold february air feeling like an actual breath of fresh air after the lack of oxygen in the crowded nightclub.

By the time your body has finally calmed down from the high of adrenaline, you start processing just how cold it actually is and kind of regret not leaving with your brother and his girlfriend about half an hour prior.

To your luck, Heeseung quickly notices the way your legs seem a little shakirr than just a few minutes ago and with one last pass to the youngest of the group, you finally call it a night.

Different than you expected, neither your or his own best friends insist on leaving with the two of you and as soon as Jungwoon wraps his arms around your shoulders, you know exactly why your usually so persistent, self proclaimed favorite boy has decided to stay behind.

"Don't fuck too much, we've got an early morning tomorrow", he says and starts laughing as soon as your face changes into an expression of horror and without giving him a verbal response you opt for a slap against his chest.

Heeseung pulls you as close to his body as possible as soon as the two of you get comfortable in the back of your uber, his body still slightly cold and for a moment you're worried about his health and feel bad for taking his jacket.

"Are you co-", "I can't wait to fuck you", he suddenly whispers into your ear, casually making you choke on your words.

You instinctively press your thighs together and curse him as well ss yourself for the reactions of your body, yet genuinely enjoying the warmth his words spreads through your veins at the same time.

"Good girl", he whispers and finally starts littering your negk in open mouthed kisses the way he's wanted to do all night.

Watching you enjoy yourself and noticing all the guys devouring you with their eyes has been one of the biggest challenges Heessung has ever had to endure. Every time you denied one of those fuckers the privilege of dancing with you, he felt proud and possessive, the urge to claim you in front of them all taking over every fiber of his being within seconds.

At first he definitely felt a little worried because he's never felt as jealous and possessive over someone the way he does with you, the lack of knowledge regarding his possible reactions worrying him to the point where all he could focus on was to stay as calm as possible. Yet as soon as he saw the way you never once looked at anyone but him, Heeseung knew there's absolutely no need for him to worry. You want him and him only, and you're not shy about showing him off because you're his girl.

Only his.

"Isn't it funny that all of these people think you're this sweet, polite girl who's here to have a good time with her friends when you've been ruining your pretty panties all night thinking about my cock."

His words and their timing are well chosen, leaving you gompletely speechless and overwhelming you to the point where your ploute smile suddenly drops and you shamefully lower your head to hide yourself from the people around you.

Only when the doors of the elevator finally close and leave the two of you to yourselves do you look up at him with big, glossy eyes. A sight Heeseung would sell his soul for.

"What's wrong, princess? Use those big girl words for me, hm? I know you want to", Heeseung's lips graze yours with every single one of his words, his hot breath fanning against your heated skin and sending shivers down your spine.

A jolt of hot arousal shoots right in between your legs and with a soft whimper you grab a fistful of his hair to stop yourself from actually falling to your knees.

"I really, really want to suck your cock", you whisper against his lips and press your body further into his, "please, Heeseung. It's all I've been thinking about."

"You're so fucking cruel", he suddenly grunts and throws his head back in defeat, one of his hands finding home around your throat as he gently pushes you against rhe wall of the elevator, "stop playing with me, pretty girl. You know which one of us wins these games."

All you can do is chuckle because you both know it's not actually him, because as soon as your boyfriend gets a single taste of you, he's a complete goner and at your absolute mercy.

You can't explain what your effect on him does to your ego. You've never felt as loved, wanted and desired as Heeseung's been making you feel and despite being overwhelmed at times you've become absolutely addicted to it.

"I'll remind you of these words when I make you cum down my throat", you giggle against his lips, quickly pull away and decide to run away when the elevator doors open.

It takes Heeseung a whole moment to follow you, your words constantly repeating in his head and sending him into the depths of his arousal, something he's got yet to get used to when it comes to you. Every time you say or do something such as actually using your pretty girl words for him, teasing and playing with him, he has absolutely no idea what to do with himself. Nobody in his life has ever put him in this particular state of arousal; with you every single time feels like a whole new experience and usually ends with the urge to lay the world to your feet.

By the time he actually catches up to you, you've already pulled out your hotel room card, quickly slipping inside the comfort of your privacy and just when he thought you couldn't surprise him any further, Heeseung actually finds himself watching the way you're casually pulling your little black dress over your headc exposing your perfect body to his hungry eyes.

"F-Fuck", this time there's absolutely no way he can hide the intense reaction of his own body to your teasing and you feel your sensitive cunt clench in response to his deep grunt.

"Come here", you try your best to stay calm and composed as you wait for your boyfriend to finally approach you.

Mental images of his pretty cock in your mouth, the angry tip grazing your tits, his cum coating the muscle of your tongue and finally allowing you to indulge in one of your biggest fantasies overwhelm you, yet to your surprise, Heeseung seems to have slightly different plans.

You carefully watch the way your boyfriend basically rips open his dress shirt, exposing his tattooed chest to your greedy eyes, right before he comes to stand in front of you and actually drops to his knees without hesitation.

His big hands find home on your thighs, harshly kneading and groping the soft flesh all the way up to your ass and one of them casually reaching for one of your tits, his touch sending hot jolts of pleasure through your body.

"My face", Heeseung suddenly grunts and pushes your legs slightly apart, his nose deeply buried in your sensitive cunt and if it wasn't for his tight grip you would have lost every bit of balance you've had left, "please, Baby. I need you to sit on my face and cum all ove my tongue. I need it so bad."

Seung's gentle pleading sends shivers down your spine and for a short moment, mostly because of the way his pretty lips had found their way to your needy clit, you actually consider giving in to his request. But after weeks of begging your boyfriend for one thing and that thing only, you're determined to finally make that fantasy come true.

"No", you say and reach for his hair, grabbing a fistful of it and pulling his head away from your body with every bit of self control you've got left and as soon as your gaze drops to his flushed face, you let out a soft whimper.

There's absolutely no reason for Heeseung to look drunk every time he gets the tiniest taste of your pussy. You can't help but admire the sighg of his hooded eyes and parted lips, his whole face tainted in the sweetests hades of pink.

"But–", "I promise I'm gonna let you tongue fuck me to sleep later but I really, really want to suck you off now, Seungie."

Your tone doesn't give it away, yet Heeseung knows it's not really a request but actually a demand; your eyes widened and your hrip in his tight to the point it actually hurts his scalp, so without missing another beat, he kisses his way back up to your neck and turns you both to move himself closer to the bed until the back of his thighs hit the mattress and he has no choice but to sit down.

"Get to it then, princess", Heeseung grunts against your neck and his voice fades into a whimper once your knee gently nudges against the bulge in his pants.

After waiting for so long, you definitely don't need to be told twice and without hesitation you pull the fabric of his slavks down his thick thighs, your hand instantly finding uts way to his rock hard cock and calmly massaging him through his boxer briefs.

"Fuck, Baby", he suddenly whispers and reaches for your wrist to stop the movements of your hand, "I've been dying to fuck you all day, I don't have the patience and stamina for so much teasing."

His confession fuels the fire in your lower tummy, your heartbeat hammering in between your legs and once you meet his heavy gaze, you feel an actual urge to take him into your mouth overwhelm you.

"Is it because of me or because you didn't let any of your pretty little flings suck you off, hm?" Your question surprises him, yet you don't give him enough time to actually reflect on what you just threw in his direction as the sudden feeling of your hand reaching into the slit of his boxers to pull his rock hard cock free from its coffins and with a loud whimper of your name he can't do anything but throw his head back and buck his hips up.

"You're so hard", you sigh and feel your mouth watering at the heaviness of his length in your grip, "that's all for me, right, Seungie? Come on, how about you use your words for me now?"

"You're fucking evil", Heeseung presses through gritted teeth, his eyes rolling intot he back of his head as soon ss the sensation of your pretty lips grazing the wet tip of his cock overwhelms every single one of his senses, "only for and because of y-you, princess. Always and forever."

"Take your phone and call Sumin."

In absolutely no life time would Heeseung have expected you to ask something like that from him, especially not with your lips coated in his precum as you look up at him with those big, hungry eyes he's grown addicted to.

For a moment your boyfriend seems absolutely overwhelmed. Your request, your actual intention behind it, the feeling of your mouth on his cock, the way you're looking up at him and the fact he hasn't had anyone suck him off in actual years too much for his brain to process, whereas his body seems to have a mind of its own as he does as he's been told.

"That's my boy", you chuckle and pull his boxer brief down his thick thighs, littering the soft skin in open mouthed kisses as you use both of your hands to stroke the impressive length of his cock.

"Remember how I asked to never say my name?"

Your hot breath fans against the sensitive tip of his cock and just when you're about to pull away, Heeseung starts nodding frantically, despair and need bubbling up his throat in the form of high pitched whimpers and moans.

"Once she picks up I want you to moan nothibg but my name, okay?"

"F-Fuck", at this point Heeseung's convinced he's going to pass out from hos good you're already making him feel, despite not even getting to the actual event yet, "yes, Baby. Want you to claim me. Show her who owns me, make me proud."

Just as usual his words don't fail to send jolts of hot arousal straight into your cunt and with a soft whine you curse at him for being so casual about things like this when you've been trying so hard to stay composed.

You carefully watch the way your boyfriend dial her number, putting her on speaker and casually throwing his head back with a loud moan of your name as soon as her voice makes its way through the speaker.

With a big smile you finally wrap your lips around his cock and don't even waste too much time, taking as much of his length down your throat as possible.

"Fuck, that's my girl", Heeseung grunts and pushes his hand into your hair, his hips bucking up and theusting his cock a little further into your mouth and the lore his precum coats the muscle of your tongue, the harder your eyes roll intot he back of your head, "there you go, that's it, Y/N."

For some reason it sounds weird to hear your boyfriend use your name but you canmt help but press your thighs together at the raspiness in his voice and with each movement of your head, you can feel the way Heeseung's whole body tenses up just a little bit more.

"What the fuck?"

You don't know if that Sumin's first verbal reaction since your whole focus remains on your task at hand, the feeling of Seung's cock laying so perfectly on your tongue and the tip hitting the back of your throat with each of his thrusts taking over your senses but you donmt even try to hide just how much you love it.

After having to deal with her stupid messages and random calls you've finally had enough. You didn't want to give her the memory of a voicemail, a video or a picture and as you imagine her face of shock and envy, you can help but let out a soft hum with your lips still firmly wrapped around your boyfriend's cock.

"I love you so much", Heeseung suddenly grunts, his lids pressed shut, neck and face completely flushed and from the way his knuckles have started turning white you can tell just how much he's trying to hold himself back.

"My pretty little princess, my everything."

Maybe it's the thought of him being just as into your attempt of claiming him or maybe it's just how honest and genuine his words sound despite his current state of pleasure, yet either way you can't help but pull away with a loud gasp to look up at him.

You never once stop stroking him, the mixture of your spit and his precum enough to make you feel sloppy and as if he could feel your eyes on him, Heeseung slowly opens his own to meet your gaze with a lazy smile.

"Did you hear that?"

Thise words aren't directed at you, but Heeseung confidently refuses to shift his gaze away from your face, gently caressing your heated cheek with his hand before he wipes away your saliva from your chin.

"You're fucking disgusting."

It'd be a lie if you said her response didn't surprise you a little. You kind of expected her to either cry or having hung up by now, knowing she's still listening just boosts your ego even further.

"Thanks", Heeseung grunts and takes your face into his big hands, wordlessly telling you to take a deep breath right before he slowly pushes his cock into your mouth and all the way down your throat.

"F-Fuck, that's my perfect girl. Nobody does it like you, Y/N. You're so fucking good."

You can tell just how much your boyfriend enjoys claiming you in such a lewd and intimate manner, the thought of him being into your possessiveness like this making the whole process of deepthroating him even easier for you and with tears streaming down your cheeks you casually start swallowing around him.

"Oh, sh-shit", his voice is hoarse and raspy from his constant whimpers and moans, a sound so beautiful you never want to hear anything else in your life, "you're all I ever wanted, angel girl. My biggest dream come true, fuck."

As your head slowly starts spinning from the lack of oxygen, your can't help but whimper in response to his sweet confession and just as you pull away to gasp for air, Heeseung's whole body tenses up in a way too familiar manner.

"Look at me, princess. Wanna cum all over that pretty face and then do the same in that perfect little cunt."

Heeseung's words are lewd and unhinged, slmething you've grown way too used to in these past few weeks but for some reason yiu seem to find comfort and confidence in them.

With a soft smile you pull away just enough to look up at him, your lips parted, tongue sticking out and your eyes never once shifting away from his face to make sure you get the best view of his perfect features contorting in pleasure when he finally reaches his much needed relief.

"Fuck you both."

That's the last thing Sumin basically screams into the phone and as if he had waited for her to end the call, Heeseung stumbles head first into the waves of his climax and finishes all over your face without a single touch and your name the only thing to fall past his swollen lips; three thick spurts of his creamy cum covering most of your cheeks as well as your top lip.

"You're fucking perfect", Heeseung sighs once he manages to catch his breath, instinctively collecting his cum from your face and casually pushing it into your mouth, just to lose his mind at the way you seem to genuinely enjoy the taste of his relief.

"But now it's my turn, right, princess?"

You don't know what exactly you've expected when hearing those words, yet your boyfriend pushing your face intk the mattress and eating you out for exactly an hour definitely wasn't it. After your fourth orgasm you genuinely can't hold back the tears any longer; the overstimulation leaving your whole body in a constant state of high pressure and with soft sobs you basically beg Heeseung to finally fuck you.

But he wouldn't be true to himself if he didn't get back at you for your little remarks and comments, which is why your boyfriend is more than just determined to push you into the absolute depth of your pleasure with every single one of his thrusts. By the time you feel like you're actually about to pass out, you've long lost count on your orgasms, whereas Heeseung just gives you enough time to breathe so he can make sure you reach your seventh high of the night together.

And as he realises that you've actually blacked out from the overstimulation, Seungie can't help but smile cheekily, no matter how worried he is. And just as expected it doesn't take you longer than a minute to wake up, drool running down your chin, tears finding their way down your cheeks as you physically struggle to keep your eyes open.

"Petty bitch", you hiss and try your best not to move, yet your whole body cringing at the feeling of his thick cum soilling out if your overly sensitive cunt, "all I did was tease you a little. You did not have to do all of this."

Heeseung throws his head back and lets out a row of chuckles, his whole body flushed and coated in the thinnest layer of sweat, a sight so perfect you actually feel like you're dreaming.

"I love you so fucking much", you whisper against his lips and pull him closer to your body, actually craving the feeling of his skin against yours despite the oast three hours of physical intimacy.

And as Heeseung allows himself to take in the way you're looking at him, he actually feels tears pricking at the corners of his eyes; gratitude and disbelief meeting in the midst of his chest when he realises that his dreams have actually become reality.

"I'm so in love with you", he whispers and casually ignores how his voice breaks at the end of his sentence, "my first and only love."

After almost a decade of denying, suppressing and ignoring his feelings, Heeseung has finally found his way home and life has never, ever felt as good as this.

← 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 — 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 — 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 →

(A/N: and this marks the last written chapter for poison, i'm absolutely NOT crying (been tearing up throughout the whole writing process) and i honestly dont even know what to say except i hope you guys liked it and know how much i love and appreciate you all. aending everyone the fattest kiss. feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!!!🥺🩷🧸)

TAGLIST CLOSED: @soonigiri @thvhannie @enhaz1 @kpoprhia @abrazosolorcereza @deobitifull @mixtape-racha @certifiedmoa @jungwon-xo @hoonieluv @enhamysunshines @jaehoonii @pussyslayerhd @ineedsomezzz @neocockthotology @heerinnie @onionzzzs @hee-pster @3amstarlight @xxxxrvexxxx @primroselover @mimikittysblog @iea-tsand @lhspeachie @xiaoderrrr @viagumi @smg-valeria @kells5595 @heeseunghee7 @xrvrqs @ddazed-lhs @heebrry @fakeuwus @dammit-jjk @ivyannemarie @thekinkpopstandsforkrackheads @s00buwu

#enhypen social media au #enhypen smau #enhypen x reader #enhypen smut #enhypen fluff #enhypen angst #lee heeseung x reader #heeseung smut #lee heeseung social media au #heeseung x reader #lee heeseung smut #heeseung social media au

509 notes · View notes