#so we’re gonna need to get past that first

[hwaslayer]

flowers on the floor (kys) | part one.

—summary: when yeosang decided he was going to take a month-long vacation, he was mainly hoping to get away from his mundane routine and the stress of work. he certainly wasn’t expecting to meet you and build a connection unlike he’s ever known. when the end of his vacation nears, promises are made to keep the relationship alive, to keep it blossoming. but eventually, as the reality settles in and the distance continues to put a wedge into your relationship, you drop your end of the promise without any trace. despite the heartbreak, all yeosang can do is think about you— hoping the universe will lead you to each other again.

—pairing: kang yeosang x f!reader

—genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers to lovers | fluff, angst, smut

—word count: 30k

—content/warnings: cussing, mature language/sexually implied content, somewhat of a love at first sight/soulmate kinda thing?, mentions of a broken family relationship, family pressures and high expectations, mentions of past hookups/flings, hints at a toxic relationship/ex, alcohol consumption and intoxication, lots of making out and kissing lol, little acts of affection, bar scenes, dancing, unprotected sex, slight choking, subtle marking, fingering/clit play, mentions of oral, mentions of phone sex, handjob, multiple orgasms, aftercare, ANGST ooof, crying, overthinking and insecurities (lots of it), sorry if i missed anything!!

Kang Yeosang is typically okay with routine. 

He wakes up at 6am on the dot every day and gets himself ready for work. He grabs a banana or some boiled eggs for a quick breakfast, waiting until he arrives at the office at 8am to grab his hot cup of black coffee. He’s usually the first to be in the kitchen, helping himself to the fresh pot before Jongho, Chaerin and Wooyoung [in that order] walk in for their own servings. They gather around and chat for a bit before they head to their desks and get to work. They all work on the finance team as finance managers, preparing monthly reports and acting as liaisons between the company’s departments and outside vendors/customers. It’s a pretty flexible job, as long as they get what they need to get done and meet deadlines and attend required meetings. Most people are nice and hardworking, his boss is fairly understanding with most circumstances. Yeosang gets paid well, too. In the end, he can’t really complain. After his work day ends at 5pm, he heads straight to the gym for a good, long workout before he’s grabbing dinner to go or heading home to whip something up. He showers, gets comfortable, then hops on for a game of League before he’s laying in bed and watching useless Youtube videos. 

Then, the routine starts all over again.

Lately though, the routine’s been frustrating. Annoying to deal with. Overwhelming. People had been leaving [either permanently or taking days off after days off], dumping all the work on him to take over. He’s been taking it without complaint, but for someone who hasn’t really taken time off in the past year, his patience was running thin. Body burning out. Everything suddenly felt so mundane. Monotonous. Maybe, he finally needed a break to do something different. Maybe, he just needed a break period. That’s why he’s taking a leave of absence for a month, that’s why Wooyoung’s sitting in the driver’s seat— his bestfriend of 10 years shooting him a weird look while he makes his way to the train station with Yeosang chillin’ in the front seat.

“Wow, you’re really doing this shit.”

“No, I just submitted my leave request for shits and giggles.” Yeosang looks at Wooyoung.

“What’re you even gonna do there for a month?”

“Be away from you and Jongho, and finally be at peace.”

“You’ll be missing us as soon as you hop off that train.” 

“Right.”

“Seriously, what’re you gonna do there? I hope you find a fuckbuddy to keep you sane.”

“You know, we’re not all like you. Needing a new starting five every damn week.”

“Eh, and where’s the fun in that?” Woo teases with a small laugh. “Kidding. But also not. Really do hope you get laid while you’re on vacation.” Yeosang shakes his head and continues to look out the window, watching as the surroundings quickly pass him by. He’s honestly not sure what he’ll do over the month. He picked the town that seemed to match his vibe lately. Lowkey. Peaceful. Near the water. Convenience. Slow paced. He could spend his days at the beach and be completely content. Or, even sitting all day in the in-law he’s renting near the beach just listening to the water crash against the sand. Hell, beats another day sitting at his desk plugging in numbers and making graphs before answering passive aggressive emails from the operations department. Anywhere but here.

“You better be a good fucking friend and call me while you’re out there.” Wooyoung finally makes it to the train station and pulls up to the passenger drop-off to help Yeosang gather his things from the trunk.

“I will.”

“I’ll miss you.” Woo pouts as he pulls him into a hug.

“I’ll be back.” Yeo laughs. “Take care of Jongho and Chaerin while I’m gone.”

“Damn, Chaerin’s probably gonna cry while you’re away.”

“Stop that. She’ll be fine.” Yeo rolls his eyes at Woo’s teasing attempt. Everyone knew Chaerin had feelings for Yeo. Unfortunately, he just didn’t see her that way since he’s always considered her a good friend since they met. He didn’t wanna ruin things, didn’t wanna force something to be there when there wasn’t. He especially didn’t wanna hurt her.

“Have fun. Be safe. Enjoy yourself. Meet new people. Get some—”

“Okay, bye!” Yeosang cuts him off and drags his luggage and backpack to the entrance of the train station, waving his last goodbye to Wooyoung.

It’s 30 minutes before the train arrives, and Yeosang was able to grab some coffee and some snacks at the small store near the platform before hopping on, storing his luggage safely and settling into his seat. It’ll be a 4 hour train ride, and he made sure to bring the book he’s been needing to finish, while also downloading new episodes of a few podcasts he follows. It’ll be enough in between his tiny naps. He doesn’t mind the trek, truthfully. He might later when he hops off and finally stretches it out, but overall, the train ride is soothing.

When he finally steps foot off of the train, he does feel a little awkward and out of place since he hadn’t really treated himself to travels in awhile. But, he is excited to finally be away from work. Excited to be alone. He gives Wooyoung a quick call to tell him he’s made it and that he’s on his way to the in-law he’s renting. He makes it a point to tell him that it already feels different than being in the city, and he feels like he can breathe. Maybe then, Wooyoung wouldn’t keep pressing him about being gone for so long in a little town. Wooyoung surprisingly lets him be and is relieved to hear he’s made it safely, making Yeo promise to send him pictures knowing full well Yeo hates pictures of any sort. He agrees though, just to get him off his case and end the call on a light note.

He arrives at the in-law and the owners who live in the house above greet him with a warm smile. They give him the code to punch in at the door before sharing their number in case of any emergencies. Yeosang likes that it’s on the opposite end of the beach because of the quiet residential area. Plus, he still gets a good view being that the beach is basically at their doorstep. It’s soothing, really, really soothing. He takes his time washing up and unpacking, making himself feel at home away from home. By the time he’s settled and given himself time to rest, it’s about to be dinner. He checks for food around the area and finds a restaurant with raving reviews— people mainly boasting about the attractive staff working there, along with the delicious food and fun atmosphere. Despite that, it’s about a 15 minute walk down the road, and Yeosang can actually see it from where he’s at. It sounds worse than it actually is, though. There are no inclines or hills he has to conquer for dinner. For his first night, that seems to be a good option.

“Ayo! What can I get started for you?” Yeosang walks in and is immediately greeted by a tall, young man. He’s probably an inch or so taller than him. Sharp features. Short black hair. Piercing eyes.

“Uh, a beer sounds good. Any. Plus, popcorn chicken?.” Yeosang plops onto a high chair while a menu is slipped his way.

“That’s all?”

“Yeah, not too hungry.”

“Sounds good. It’ll be over shortly.” He gives Yeosang a tiny, toothless smile before he’s calling for someone about his food and meeting another tall male at the corner of the shop behind the registers. The other is standing at about 6’0, Yeosang thinks. He’s got a good build, deep voice that echoes throughout the shop—

“Hi!” You greet him warmly with a smile, putting a napkin down followed by a cold glass and his beer. “Hm, I feel like I haven’t seen you around here. Are you visiting?”

“Uh, yeah.” Yeosang gives you a very tiny, almost subtle toothless smile. He’s just a little surprised from you after being pulled out of his thoughts. His people-watching.

“I’m Y/N.” His eyes dart to your nametag before meeting your eyes again. 

“Yeosang.” You look at Yeosang’s features, taking note of the beautiful birthmark near his eye, his sharp jawline, his brown hair softly framing his face. He must’ve caught on because his eyes are awkwardly drifting from you, around the room— back to you. 

“Nice to meet you, Yeosang.” You giggle. “Let me know if you need anything then, happy to show you around the town, too!” You respond cheerfully and Yeosang is almost puzzled at the energy you’re giving towards a stranger like himself. A reserved, awkward stranger at that.

“Sounds good. Thanks.” 

“I’ll be back with your food.” He nods. This time, it’s Yeosang’s turn to watch as you sway your hips and walk away from the table— greeting everyone along the way with that same smile, that same energy. Everything about you seems contagious, your laugh loud enough to bounce off the walls even with the music blasting through the speakers. But, it’s cute. It’s warm and oddly comforting to hear your laugh. It just reminds him that it’s the little things; that he’s here getting his time away from home to be in his own peace. Away from the familiar, from the hustle and bustle of the city life.

“Who is that guy? I feel like I’ve never seen him before.” Jungkook pushes the basket of popcorn chicken your way. 

“Mm. A visitor.” You shrug.

“We don’t get a lot of those nowadays.” He laughs. “Looks like you were tryna get friendly on the dude?”

“Hush, I just want him to feel welcomed.” Jungkook smirks.

“Okay. You do that.” He leans over the counter. “Aye! Make sure that chicken actually makes it to him, too. You little thief.” You look over your shoulder and flip him off with a laugh.

“Bro, can one of you change the music?” You shout over to Keeho and Mingi standing off to the side, not working per usual.

“What’s wrong with the song?” Mingi furrows his brows at the Spotify playlist.

“It’s too slow. Give me Bad Bunny or something?”

“Girl, we are not at a club. There are elderly people here. Calm down.” Keeho looks through the playlist. “Let’s just put on Jungkook’s covers.” Him and Mingi laugh.

“Hey!” Jungkook yells from the kitchen. “I knew I should’ve never sent you guys my covers. Assholes.” He points the spatula their way. Eventually, they decide to stick with some 90s music, throwing on Bring It All To Me by Blaque and Nsync to kick off the playlist. You give the boys a thumbs up as you bob your head and dance to the beat, making your way over to Yeosang with his basket of popcorn chicken.

“Here you go.” You smile at him and he gives you a tiny one in response.

“Thank you.” He pokes at one with the toothpick, popping it into his mouth.

“How long are you here for?” You move around the table to be directly in his view.

“A month.” Your eyes widen.

“A month?! In this ‘lil town?”

“Well..” Yeosang looks at you, brows furrowed. “I’m from the city so it’s different. It’s just..” He pauses, not sure why he’s explaining himself to a complete stranger. You get it, though. You’ve been there. “It’s new scenery.”

“Are you visiting someone, or do you have specific plans?” Yeosang looks at you before shrugging.

“Not really. Am I supposed to?”

“Just wondering what’d you do out here for a whole month.” You give him a small smile.

“I plan to do nothing but enjoy myself. Didn’t really think that would be an issue.” He looks at you and you chuckle.

“No, of course not. That sounds like a good time. I hope you do enjoy yourself.” You pull out a pen from the apron’s pocket and scribble out your number on a napkin. “If you ever need some recommendations, text me. I’ll be happy to help.” You pass it along to him and he simply looks down at it. He doesn’t wanna be rude, but he is also grateful you offered. Though, the whole point of him coming out here was to be alone and be in his own peace. The last thing he wants to do is get wrapped up in something, someone, else when he doesn’t plan on staying or making this a frequent vacation destination.

“Cool, thanks.”

“Where are you staying?” 

“An in-law studio down the street, opposite end of the beach.”

“Oh, cute.” You smile at him cutely again. “Well, enjoy your little vacation, Yeosang. It was nice meeting you. Is there anything else I can get you?”

“I’m all good.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I should head out. I’m pretty exhausted from the trek over.”

“Okay then. You can call me when you’re ready to pay or pay upfront with Keeho.” You give him a little, innocent wink and Yeosang can’t help but think your attitude is cute. Enticing, even. But, he brushes it off quickly because he really doesn’t think he can afford to cling onto someone, rely on someone.

He is here for his own peace.

When Yeosang wraps up his dinner, he tidies up as much as possible at the table and grabs the napkin with your number before heading to the register to pay. Keeho quickly rings him up and sends him on his way, telling him to visit again soon. All Yeo can do in return is nod, taking a mint candy on the way out.

“Where’d you go for dinner?” 

“Some restaurant down the street. Had good reviews.” Yeosang plops onto his bed after washing up and getting into his pajamas.

“Did you like it? How are the people there so far?”

“Good, I guess? The restaurant was cool. I just had something small to eat cause I wasn’t too hungry. The people working there were probably around our age. Lots of the reviews talked about the attractive staff.” Wooyoung snorts.

“Did they live up to your expectations?”

“Honestly, I can see why people are talking about it so much. The girl who served me was—”

“—Was a baddie?!”

“Dude, relax.” Yeosang laughs a bit. “She was pretty. Really outgoing.”

“Maybe she thinks you’re hot and wants to fuck.”

“We’re not all like you.” Yeosang repeats.

“Hey, it might be fun, though. You could use some friends while you’re there. Jeez. Ask her to hang out or something. Don’t be lame just cause you’re in a brand new town, that isn’t the point of getaway.” Yeosang doesn’t respond right away. All he can do is hum, letting Wooyoung continue to tell him that having new company will bring new memories, new stories, and he should really make the best out of his time there. For once, Wooyoung’s not entirely wrong. 

The next couple of days, Yeosang sees you around town. Whether you’re helping carry tubs of fresh fish into the market, talking to the elderly at the community center or chopping it up with the barista at the nearby coffee shop. You are everywhere and nowhere all at once, and Yeosang feels like it’ll be hard to dodge you while being here. Not because he’s a careless, cold asshole but because he just finds his independence important. His top priority. His daily reminder of why he’s out here. But needless to say, even if he can’t dodge you, he finds that he isn’t entirely mad about it. When Yeosang sees you next, you’re hauling in heavy ass packs of water into another restaurant. He pauses for a second, watching how you easily lift up the pack and bring it inside, oblivious to his standing figure ahead. He finally pulls himself out of it and rushes over, blocking you from carrying the last pack.

“You shouldn’t be carrying that.” Yeosang says, grabbing the heavy pack of water into the restaurant and setting it down on the counter. “Be careful next time?”

“Thank you.” You smile sweetly at him. “Didn’t mean to put you to work on your vacay.” He chuckles.

“Nah, it’s nothing. I’m not gonna let you just haul that in.” You place your hand on your hip and giggle.

“What have you been up to, Yeosang? How’s town treating you?”

“Uh, good? I’ve just been walking around nearby. Hanging out at the beach.”

“Fun. You should talk to Mingi and Keeho at the restaurant, they love paddle boarding if you’re like.. interested in trying something new.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He tucks his hands into his pockets. “Do you work here, too?” You shake your head.

“Just like being a good neighbor and helping out whenever I can.” He nods.

“That’s sweet of you.”

“Gonna stop by the restaurant again tonight? There’s gonna be a bonfire and movie night event. We’ll be serving beer and all that good stuff.”

“Tonight?”

“The flyers are everywhere, silly.” You point at a flyer posted on the pole behind him. “Come, it’ll be fun.”

“Mm, I’ll think about it.” You cock your head to the side and slightly pout. “Sorry, it’s just not my thing. I..” Yeosang lets out a breath as he scratches at the back of his neck. “I probably sound really lame. But, lots of people. Noise. Gets kinda overwhelming.” He shrugs.

“I understand.” You give him a tiny toothless smile. “That’s okay! I promise it won’t be too crazy, and it’s pretty chill. But, totally up to you.”

“Thanks for extending the invite.” You nod. “Any more water to carry in?” You laugh.

“Nope! Thank you again. See you around?” Yeosang nods, watching as you step into the restaurant and start helping the middle-aged lady inside despite her playful efforts of shoo’ing you away. Yeosang shifts his gaze to his two feet, kicking at the rocks beneath them before walking down the path to the grocery store. He’s kinda cursing himself for sounding so fucking lame in front of you. Lots of people? Noise? What was he thinking? It wasn’t necessarily a lie, though— he actually doesn’t like to be in crowded places for long, doesn’t really like to party or do bonfires, socialize for long periods of time with people he doesn’t know well. Is the type of person to join a team dinner for the free food but will be gone in the next hour or so. Will join a work party because he feels obligated to show face for at least an hour before rushing home to get in bed. But, he’s cursing himself because he is on vacation, exploring new territory and breathing in new scenery. He should have some fun. He should’ve tried a little harder to sound a bit more interested.

“Jesus, Kang Yeosang.” He mutters to himself before shaking his head and heading off to the grocery store to grab some necessities for the studio.

That evening comes quickly, and Yeosang is pacing back and forth in his studio, wondering if he should just say fuck it and join the festivities. He’d say he decided pretty quickly despite the internal battle of what to wear— the stress and overthinking almost causing him to back out.

Sooner or later, he finds himself staring out at the restaurant and beach ahead of him; feet coming to a pause when he tries to scan the crowd from where he stands, suddenly trying to find a familiar figure— you. He slowly walks over, closing in on the crowd that has gathered around the huge bonfire on the beach while the screen is getting blown up on the side to prepare for the movie. He’s pretty late, maybe a good hour and a half since everything started. No one seems to pay him any mind, and it’s almost enough to make Yeosang turn right back around and slip back into his—

“Yeosang!” He hears a familiar voice call his name from behind, allowing his body to relax a bit. “You came!” You smile from ear to ear, placing a basket full of fried squid down for the people lounging nearby.

“Couldn’t hurt to check it out.” You chuckle.

“You’ll enjoy it. Promise. Want me to grab you some beer? Any food?”

“Beer is good. Thank you.” He gives you a tiny, toothless smile. You give him a nod in acknowledgement before you scurry off into the restaurant and grab a beer bottle.

“Hey, he came?” Jungkook comes out from the kitchen, taking a break from all the cooking he’s been doing.

“Yeah.”

“Must like you.”

“Can you give it a break?” You laugh a bit. “He’s exploring a new town for a month.”

“Cute.” He wiggles his eyebrows, following you out onto the front patio that flows onto the beach.

“Here.” You hand Yeosang the bottle. “This is Jungkook, by the way. Our main chef. Jungkook, Yeosang.”

“Nice to meet you. Hope she hasn’t been running you up the wall already.” You nudge him and he lets out a small yelp, hand over his stomach before his free hand reaches for a hand shake. “Kidding—fuck.”

“Nice to meet you, too.” Yeosang chuckles.

“Oh, hey. You were at the restaurant a couple of days ago. I rang you up.” Keeho and Mingi come from the side of the restaurant, hauling out a cooler full of more beer and canned cocktails. “Keeho. Mingi.” He points to himself before pointing at Mingi.

“Nice to meet you.”

“Movie’s about to start in the next 15 minutes.” Jungkook pops open one of the cans and drags a chair out to the sand, greeting people along the way before he finds a good spot.

“Gonna stay for the movie?” Mingi asks Yeosang. He can’t help but shift his attention to you for a brief second, hoping you’d have the answer for whatever reason. You look up at him with those cute, doe-eyes, subtly nodding with a small smile creeping up at the corner of your lips.

“Yeah, for a bit.” He returns his attention to Mingi.

“Cool. There’s some bean bags there you can grab to sit on!” Him and Keeho start heading out to sit next to Jungkook and a few other people from town.

“Come.” You call him over towards the bean bags set off to the side. “We can sit over here, give us some distance from people.” You drag a bean bag near the side, still good to see the screen but distant enough so you weren’t mixed within the crowd.

“I— You don’t have to sit here and be away from your friends.” You laugh and plop down onto the bean bag.

“Trust me, it’s nice to be away from them. I see them every day.” Yeosang slowly nods, setting his bean bag next to yours. 

“What movie’s playing?”

“Dune.”

“Interesting.” Yeosang looks around as he settles into the bag comfortably, legs slightly spread while he leans back. “Are people gonna be out here for the entire movie?”

“Mhm. You really don’t have to stay for the entire thing, though.” You point at the restaurant. “Do you wanna share some snacks? Candy? Popcorn?”

“Sure? Anything you grab is good with me.” You give him a tiny smile before heading to the restaurant and scooping a big helping of the candy salad you, Keeho and Mingi made earlier for people to help themselves to. It had some sour worms, gummy bears, other gummies and fruity candy. 

When you get back, the movie is already starting and the chatter from people has died down around you. The night is perfect— the stars are painting the skies, the temperature perfectly warm and still. Yeosang is already paying full attention to the movie, finding interest in it that he didn’t think he’d have initially. You gently nudge him with the bowl, allowing him to snack on a few gummies. At some point, Yeosang accidentally dips his hand into the bowl at the same time as you; grazing your hand slightly and flinching at the contact. He lets out a low ‘sorry,’ shifting in his seat at the awkward encounter. When it finally hits the 2-hr mark, you’re actually getting kinda tired of sitting there and don’t think you can wait until the rest of the 30 mins or so are up. It had been a long day, and as much as you wanna hang out and kick it ‘till the end, you find your body getting hit with exhaustion earlier than expected. You stand to your feet and head back into the restaurant, cleaning up what you can to give the boys less work later on. 

“Need help?” You turn to find Yeosang standing there, hands dug into his pockets as you wash a few dishes and set them on the drying rack.

“No. The boys can handle the rest.” You dry off your hands. “Thank you, though.”

“Are you heading back to the movie?”

“Probably not. I think I’m gonna call it a night, exhaustion hit me out of nowhere.”

“Can I walk you?”

“I’ll be fine. You should catch the rest of it, you looked like you were into it!” You giggle.

“I can always catch it another time.” You stare into his eyes for a brief second before clearing your throat and nodding, tossing the paper towel away before grabbing your things. 

“What, you’re leaving?! That’s new.” Keeho says, coming into the restaurant to place a few more dirty dishes off to the side.

“Exhausted, my dude.” He looks at you up and down before looking at Yeosang, patiently waiting off to the side of the restaurant for you.

“Mhm. Sure.” He says lowly. “Let me know how it goes.”

“Just walking me home.”

“Uh huh, that’s how it all starts.” You snort and punch him on the bicep.

“See you tomorrow.”

“Aye, you’re opening, remember!” Keeho calls out as you meet Yeosang. You wave in acknowledgement before heading out, throwing on your bag strap and letting it hang over your shoulder. The walk is pretty quiet at first, but it isn’t uncomfortable for you. Maybe for Yeosang, but not you. He’s the first to break the silence though, surprising you again with his curiousity.

“Do you work at the restaurant every day?”

“For the most part. Otherwise I’m either around town or helping at the animal shelter.”

“The animal shelter?” You nod.

“One of my favorite things to do.”

“That’s cool.”

“Have you found anything interesting while you’ve been here? Anything you’re planning to do?”

“Mm, not really. To be honest, I just wanted to get away from the city. There wasn’t a huge goal to explore the town or find new hobbies.” He looks at you before looking down at his feet.

“Well, I’m sure either way you’ll find things to enjoy.” You point down the street. “I just live right over there, by the way. You don’t really have to walk me all the way.”

“It’s alright.”

“Did you at least enjoy hanging out a bit?”

“Yeah. T’was nice to see people get together.”

“It’s a small town. We don’t have much to do in the first place.” You laugh. “Everyone’s really chill, though. Soon, you’ll be able to pick out familiar faces, overhear the same names being thrown around, get used to who is working where, what the restaurant specialties are.” 

“I think I’m slowly getting there.” Yeosang looks at you. 

“Besides me, silly.” You continue to keep eye contact with him. “Hey. Do you have any siblings?”

“No.”

“Are your parents from the city?”

“Yeah.” 

“Are you close to them?”

“As can be, I guess?”

“Hm.” You hum. “So, you see them often?”

“I do.” You look down at your feet, and it’s easy for Yeosang to tell that something is on your mind. He won’t pry though, he doesn’t necessarily think he has the right to. Nor is it his place to.

“They were okay with you up and leaving for a month?” He shrugs.

“I mean, I am coming back.” He chuckles a bit. “They understood.”

“That’s nice.” Is all you respond with.

“Soo..” Yeosang kicks at the rocks. “You’re working the early shift tomorrow then..?”

“To the shelter.”

“I see.”

“What do you plan to do?”

“I don’t know. Hang out at the beach some more?”

“When are you gonna stop by the restaurant again?” You giggle, treading up the hill before turning the corner to your building. The building isn’t entirely fancy, nor is it completely run down. It’s cozy enough to house 18 units— your studio one of two on the very first level. Yeosang pauses in his steps when he sees you fishing for your keys in your bag, doing his best to give you space and not wanting to intrude.

“One of these days.”

“You plan to be back?” Yeosang chuckles a bit and nods.

“At some point during my month’s stay I’m gonna have to.”

“Thanks for walking me home. Hope you enjoyed tonight, even though we didn’t finish the movie and stuff.” He gives you a toothless smile.

“Yeah.”

“Goodnight.” You look at him once more before unlocking the lobby door, stepping in to make your way to your safe space.

In the next few days, you run into Yeosang a lot. Even if it’s inevitable with how small the town is, there are people in town that you don’t see for weeks on end. For reasons why, you aren’t sure. Wrong timing, other plans, your own schedule being pretty busy between the restaurant and the shelter. But you’ve been seeing Yeosang every day since he walked you home; whether it be across the street, a glimpse at the convenience store, checking out at the grocery store, at the beach. You’re not gonna lie, Yeosang is attractive, but there’s more to him and you’re curious to find out. You want to know more about him, why he’s here for a month, why he decided he needed a break from the city. Something about him is intriguing to you.

Tonight, you’re wrapping up at the shelter; folding the remaining washed blankets and towels from the dryer before taking out the trash. To your surprise, Yeosang is walking down the street from the nearby gym and sauna, spotting you first before you even have the chance to.

“Y/N?” He stops in his tracks, duffle bag slung over his shoulder. You turn just as you toss the hefty trash bag into the dumpster, safely removing your gloves from each hand before tossing them into the bin as well.

“Oh hey you!” You wave and smile at him, and for some reason, it’s starting to make Yeosang weak. You always show off the beautiful smile and that same energy, it’s no wonder you pull everyone in.

“Is this the shelter?” Yeosang asks, eyeing the building. It’s rather small, and there’s not much of a giveaway that it’s a shelter. Still, Yeosang feels kinda silly for asking.

“Mhm. Come!” You wave him in as you stand at the back door.

“Uh. I’m kinda gross and sweaty from the gym.”

“I really don’t care.” You laugh. “Come. I can show you the babies.” Yeosang doesn’t say anything in response, and instead, walks in while tugging his duffle bag close. “You can leave your bag here. It’s just me and I’ll be closing up soon.” You show him to the laundry room. Yeosang sits his bag on the counter before following you out of the back area and into the shelter itself— dogs in individual rooms, while cats, bunnies and a few other small animals [snakes, birds] are off to two other rooms at the other end. “The wildlife center and vet are in the building next door. I don’t go there much unless they need extra hands, but that’s rare.”

“Woah.” He mutters to himself when he sees the huge, black doberman peacefully sleeping in his room. He slowly walks past and smiles at the tiny maltese next door, looking up at him from the cot; big, brown doe eyes that could easily melt someone’s heart. “How cute.”

“Isn’t she? This is Piper.” You point at the maltese. “That’s Ro.” You point at the doberman. “Piper was found wandering the streets, no one came looking for her.” You pout a bit. “She’s five. Ro was surrendered by his family. His owner had a stroke and is in the hospital, and no one else in the family can take care of him. He’s 8.” 

“That’s sad.” Yeosang responds softly as he stands next to you, your own shoulder only inches away from his chest. “How long have they been here?”

“Piper’s been here for about a month, while Ro has been here for 4.” You show him to the other rooms down the aisle. “Sahara, Thor, Rocky, Storm, Bruce.” You continue to tell him their name, their ages, how long they’ve been here and for what reason. The remaining dogs are a mix of chihuahas, huskies and labrador mixes. Yeosang watches as you gently coo at the dogs when they come to their door, keeping your hand on the glass to provide some sort of comfort from the other end. He smiles a bit to himself when you baby the dogs. It’s incredibly cute and sweet, and it’s obvious just how much you love being here and how much this work means to you.

You continue to take him through the rest of the adoptable animals, earning small chuckles when you tell him some cute, funny stories about your time at the shelter. It’s then that you reveal you’ve always wanted to work with animals and that it’s still eventually your goal to climb up somehow. Maybe work at a more established vet or pet hospital. Aquarium, even. Anything that’ll keep you close to them will do. Yeosang doesn’t really question why you just don’t go for it yet— he’s more of a listener than a talker, and he understands that most people won’t divulge unless they’re ready to or feel comfortable enough to. So, as always, he lets it be. Listens to your soothing voice as you continue around the shelter before you’re doing one last walkthrough and making sure all water bowls are full. You head to the back once you’re done, reuniting Yeosang with his belongings.

“Thanks for showing me around.”

“Course.”

“Can I walk you home again?” You shut off the lights to the laundry room and head out the back door, slipping the key in to lock it up for the night.

“You sure? I still have to grab some dinner.” 

“I don’t mind. I want to.” He says, and it makes you smile. “Besides, the air feels really nice right now. I’m still a bit worked up from the gym session.” You laugh.

“It’s quite chilly tonight.” You shiver at the breeze that comes through. Yeosang digs through his duffle bag and pulls out the zip-up hoodie he wore over, handing it over to you.

“Here.”

“Oh, no. Yeosang, I’m fine, I don’t—” Before you know it, he’s unzipping the jacket and draping it over your shoulders. He avoids eye contact though, it’s easy to tell he doesn’t really do these things or that it’s out of his element. “Thank you.” You say softly, hoping to reassure his actions.

“You’re welcome.”

“I’m just gonna grab stuff from the convenience store.” You lead the way and skip along to the convenience store just down the street. “I won’t be long.”

“Take your time.” He follows you into the store anyway, watching as you happily grab some ramen and onigiri off the shelves. A hotdog. String cheese. Chocolate ice cream. 

“Need anything?”

“I’m good. I stocked up on some groceries so I should definitely put them to use and cook some meals.” 

“Share an ice cream with me at least?” You grab another chocolate ice cream from the freezer. 

“Sure.” You laugh as you bring your items to the cashier, helping bag the items before you’re finally out the door and indulging in your ice cream with Yeosang. You look at him again, eyeing the loose muscle tank he has on with his sweats. Ogling a tiny bit at his body through the tank.

“Good on you for keeping up with the gym while you’re away from home.” He chuckles.

“A stress reliever.”

“I bet. Jungkook goes to that gym often, pretty late though since he’s always at the restaurant.”

“Does he own the restaurant?”

“His family does. They pop in from time to time, but Jungkook has taken over for the most part.”

“I see. I’m guessing you’ve known them for awhile?” You smirk.

“Enough for me to be liked and hired.” 

“How long have you known Keeho and Mingi?”

“Mm, I’ve known all of them for a bit over 2 years. Mingi and Keeho were at the restaurant before me, but I just got close to them as I started there.”

“Where were you before that, if you don’t mind me asking?” You smile.

“Yeosang is interested in getting to know me?” He laughs a bit and shakes his head.

“I’m just curious, but you don’t have to share if you don’t wanna.”

“I was in school. Around. Getting my life together— well, still am I guess.”

“Hm.” He hums. “We’re not that far apart. I graduated 3 years ago.”

“What’d you graduate in, and where do you work?”

“Business. I work as a finance manager for a pharmaceutical company.”

“Woah, big shot.” He laughs shyly.

“No, not even.”

“Do you like it?” He shrugs.

“Yeah, I can’t complain. I’ve met my good friends there.”

“That’s always nice, isn’t it?” You look up with a toothless smile before eating more of your chocolate ice cream. “That’s always the best. I’m sure they miss you.”

“Ah, they’re doing alright. They can survive.” You nod.

“Hey, have you gone hiking yet at the falls?” He raises a brow.

“You guys have that here?” You snort.

“You’re funny. You’d have to go back to the outskirts to find the trail.” You start walking backwards to keep your eyes on him. “We should go one day, yeah? Maybe I can show you to other spots further in town.”

“Sure, if you don’t mind.”

“I don’t. I haven’t gone hiking in awhile and it’s perfect right now. The water is probably rushing through the cascades, making it all pretty and everything.”

“When are you free?”

“This weekend. I finally have it off after some months.”

“You’d be okay spending your free weekend showing me around?”

“I wouldn’t have offered at the restaurant if I didn’t want to.” You giggle and Yeosang feels his heart do some flips. Familiar with the unfamiliar— he hadn’t felt this in a long, long time. Though, he didn’t expect to feel it with a stranger he had bumped into on his little vacation away from home. Wasn’t even his goal and he didn’t mean to do so, but here he is. Going about every day growing more curious about you.

“Well, just remember this if you ever use it against me.” You laugh loudly and turn to start skipping ahead towards your building.

“I will.” You toss your empty ice cream container into the trash, with Yeosang following suit. “Thanks for walking me home again.” You unzip his jacket and hand it over to him. “I’m only a few steps away from warmth.” He gently takes his jacket back.

“No biggie. These walks help me get my steps in, but thanks for the ice cream? It’s like a reward.”

“Of course.” You give him another sweet smile, eyes locked onto his but it doesn’t make him the least bit uncomfortable. “At least stop by the restaurant tomorrow. Breakfast is good.” He gives you a small, reassuring smile; tugging on his bag strap before shifting his weight from one foot to another.

“I’ll take your word for it.”

“Goodnight, Yeosang.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.” He waits until you’ve slipped through the lobby door, turning on his heel with a small smile on his face, finding comfort in your presence that it feels a little difficult to walk away. He does walk away though because he finds himself uninteresting. Even if he stayed to hang out, how could he entertain you and keep you interested?

“Yeosang’s out there.” Jungkook nods towards the street, watching Yeosang finish up a run.

“I told him to come by for breakfast.” He smirks at you before setting the napkins into the holder on the table.

“Oh, you did now?”

“Jeon Jungkook.” You give him a look and he snorts.

“So, remind me again— you were or weren’t trying to get friendly on the dude?”

“It doesn’t hurt to have a friend while he’s around! I offered to show him further into town and take him on the hike.”

“Cute.” He laughs. “Make sure he doesn’t hurt you though, or else I’ll come with my spatula and shit.”

“Or, make sure this girl doesn’t go toying around with his feelings.” Keeho adds, sliding into the main dining area from the back. “Right?” Keeho looks at you and you roll your eyes.

“Not even.”

“What about that one dude that stayed here for a few months? You had a ‘lil fling with him before he ended up leaving cause he hated seeing you around after you rejected him.” Keeho puckers his lips. “Months of tussling in the bed ain’t give him nothing but heartbreak. Sheesh.”

“Okay, I didn’t plan for that to happen! And he was weirdly possessive even while we were messing around. I already told him I wasn’t looking for anything serious at the time.”

“She did tell him.” Jungkook shrugs. “And I do have to say, he was a little weird. Too clingy and needy. At the restaurant every hour. Couldn’t give Y/N space to breathe for someone who’s a fuckbuddy.”

“What about Keeho’s friend that visited? I forgot his name.” Mingi chimes in, helping himself to a bowl of breakfast.

“Don’t remind me, dude. He still cries about it.”

“So dramatic.” You cross your arms. “My bad for not wanting something serious during those times. You can’t say I didn’t tell them because I did.”

“Mm, but you were pretty harsh about it in the end, too. You blocked him on everything and acted like he didn’t exist. That’s why he still fucking cries about it.” You shake your head.

“What’re you planning with him?” Mingi cuts in as he watches Yeosang’s figure, still on his way towards the restaurant. “He genuinely looks like a good guy.”

“Why do I need to have a plan, Mingi?” You shoot him a look. “He’s cool. Just trying to be a good friend to him while he’s around.”

“Mhm. Won’t be surprised when you start batting those little eyelashes and twirling your hair in front of him. Go ahead then, bae.” Keeho smacks his lips together before walking off to tend to the customers that just walked in. When Yeosang finally arrives, he’s in a windbreaker and pants, his hair still beautifully parted and intact despite the small breeze outside. He looks incredibly ethereal for someone who had just gone on a run, and it almost makes you buckle at the knees the more you stare.

“Hey.” You break your thoughts and smile at him. “You made it!”

“Someone told me I could grab a good breakfast here.” You laugh and show him to a table, letting him get comfortable.

“Whoever it was, was right. How was your run?”

“A good long 3 miles.”

“You’re insane.” You snort. “Gym last night, 3 miles in the morning? You basically ran around town.” He laughs and shakes his head.

“I just needed to get my cardio in. Definitely didn’t enjoy it.”

“Well, do you have anything specific in mind for breakfast or can I surprise you?”

“A surprise sounds nice.”

“Got you.” You gently tap the table before heading to the back, putting in an order for today’s breakfast special. You fill up a glass full of freshly squeezed orange juice and take it to the table before dropping off food to the other customers. 

“Got a plate for your man.” Jungkook slides the breakfast special to you, making you chuckle.

“You’re a piece of shit. Thank you.” You raise the plate before sticking out your tongue and walking off to Yeosang again. “Enjoy.” You look at him with a small smile, watching his eyes light up at the food on the plate. He immediately digs in and nods happily, making you giggle at how cute he looks right now.

“Please tell Jungkook he’s an amazing cook.”

“Never. He’ll never let it go.” You laugh. “But sure, I’ll make sure to relay the message for you. Any other plans today?” He shakes his head.

“Not that I know of yet.” You nod, looking back at new customers that need assistance.

“Well. Let me know if you need help figuring it out.” You slide him a few napkins. “Sorry, I’ll be back to check on you later.” You rush over to the customers and greet them happily, they can’t help but smile and laugh along with you. Yeosang doesn’t mean to let his eyes linger for long, but he finds your energy captivating and he’s got a pull to you.

It doesn’t help that the restaurant gets quite busy during peak breakfast hours and you’re barely checking in on him. He feels a bit lonely, though he knows you’re at work and he shouldn’t expect to converse with you much.

“I’m so sorry, it just got really busy out of nowhere.” You pout a bit when you finally stop by to grab his empty plate. “Can I get you anything else?” He shakes his head.

“Don’t worry, Y/N.” He chuckles. “I’m all good.” You rush over to drop his empty dishes in the dirty pile, grabbing his check to hand over.

“I’ll see you around?” You give him a smile before you run off again, leaving him to take the check to Mingi at the front.

“Enjoy your breakfast?” Yeo nods.

“Yeah, it was great.”

“Any other plans for the day?”

“Nah, not yet. Probably hang out at the beach tonight, figure out the rest later.”

“That’s always a good one. Get Y/N to go with you. She’s usually out there at night from time to time.”

“Oh, really? Doing what?”

“Just to chill. She also tries to collect shells, but I swear, they’re all the same out there. I don’t know what else she wants.” Mingi shakes his head. “Anyway, see you next time, my guy.”

“Sounds good.” Yeosang slips a tip into the tip jar before heading back out to his humble abode. When he gets back, he takes a good shower and plops onto the bed in a new change of clothes. He pulls up the game on his phone to play for a bit before researching a few more things to do in the coming weeks. But, he isn’t sure what’s worth visiting and what’s worth passing on. Then, he falls asleep for a good hour or so [maybe nearing 2] before he gets up and decides to stop being boring. He’ll explore around the other end of town, see what places are around and what scenic views he can take pictures of. Then.. what?

He remembers he still has your number in his jacket, and he’s considering taking up the offer of letting you show him around [or at the very least, guide him to places he should visit]. When he gets back from his trek around the opposite end of town with a few goodies in hand, he realizes it’ll be dinner soon and that he should really decide on what to do tonight. He whips the number out of his jacket pocket and stares at it for a good while, wondering if he should just say fuck it and text you.

Yeah, well. Fuck it. What does he have to lose at this point?

[unknown number]: hey, it’s yeosang 

[you]: hey you ☺️ you’re actually putting my number to use?! lol

[yeosang]: lol yeah sorry, i just don’t really wanna be a bother to anyone

[you]: you aren’t! how can i help? 

[yeosang]: if you’re free.. i was wondering if you’d like to hang out at the beach?

[yeosang]: also don’t feel obligated, i just thought it’d be nice cause the weather .. and i haven’t really had the chance to hang out there 

[yeosang]: plus.. i don’t know any other places just yet..

[yeosang]:i’m rambling lol i'm sorry

[you]: nooooo you’re not! i’d love to join! i can meet you near the paddleboard rentals? i’ll bring some food!

[yeosang]: you don’t have to bring food!

[you]: i want to! i’ll be there in 30 mins.

[yeosang]: sounds good!

Yeosang smiles to himself as he goes through the fridge and kitchen to see if there’s anything he can bring. He does have an unopened soju bottle that he decides on bringing, in case you wanted to have a drink with him while eating good food. Plus, water. Can’t go wrong with water. And he’s glad he did because when he finally sees you near the paddleboard rentals, you’re hauling food on food on food.

“Why’d you bring so much food?” Yeo laughs as he watches you roll out the blanket for you two to sit on. You take the initiative to sit down and pat the space next to you. Yeosang gently places the food down in front of you before sticking the soju bottle into the sand to keep it standing upright.

“I just wanted to make sure we had enough!” You pop open the tupperwares of ramen and side dishes, handing Yeosang a small plate for him to use. “You brought soju! I love this one!”

“Does that give me brownie points?” You laugh.

“Yeah, it does. Mind if I open it?”

“Go for it.” You pop open the soju and pour some for both you and Yeosang in the paper cups you have. “Cheers!” You tap your cup against his before you both take the shots to the next, instantly feeling the warmth run down your throat and into your tummy. “What else did you do today?”

“Nothing besides walk down the opposite end of town.”

“Like actually?”

“I don’t really know where to go, so I was gonna wait for you to show me and tell me.” You playfully gasp.

“Finally using little ol me for more help?!”

“Unless you take it back, then fine whatever.. I’ll get around.” He pretends to act upset.

“Never.” You giggle and pour another shot. “Of course. First, we gotta tackle that hike. I’ll send you some places too over text so you can check them out when you have time.”

“You won’t come along?” You smile at him and hand his cup.

“I wish I could, but you know, work. The shelter. Helping around town.”

“Right..” Yeosang nods, silently tapping his cup against yours before taking the shot. The sun finally rests below the horizon and you and Yeosang are still talking about town and the little things here and there. You find that it’s really easy to talk to him, even if he doesn’t chime in much. He listens, and he can admit your voice is always nice to hear. The both of you indulge in the food in between sipping on the soju and discussing random things you both like and dislike.

At some point, there’s a pause in the conversation, and you’re just looking out at the sea, the night sky.

Yeosang is taking pictures of his surroundings and he turns his camera your way. He decides to ask for permission first before snapping a photo you don’t even wanna be in.

“I’m just taking pictures. Are you okay with that?” You laugh at how cutely awkward the question comes out of his mouth.

“No worries, I don’t mind. Should I pose or act natural? Candid?”

“Just do whatever feels natural.” He says, snapping a photo of you looking out at the view. “I promised my bestfriend I’d take photos even though I usually don’t.”

“Your bestfriend, hm?”

“Yeah. His name is Wooyoung, and he’s a level 10 pain in the ass. He’s definitely gonna ask to see them. If not, maybe my parents.”

“Cute. I agree with Wooyoung. Do it for the memories.” 

“Taking his side already and you haven’t even met him.”

“I just agree, okay.” You laugh before leaving a pause in the conversation again. “It’s nice that you seem close with your parents.” You blurt all of a sudden, making Yeosang turn to you as you continue to look out at the water.

“I mean, we’re okay. We aren’t perfect.” He adds. “Why do you say that? Are you not close to yours?” He realizes he’s never really heard you talk about your family like that, nor has he even tried to ask. To be honest, he just doesn’t want to be in your business and make you uncomfortable. But, you seemed to open up first tonight, so he’ll continue to go with it.

“No.” You let out a tiny, pathetic chuckle before shaking your head. “They keep trying to force their own plans and dreams on me. Trying to make me something I’m not.”

“I’m sorry. When was the last time you talked to them?”

“They still try to text or call from time to time but I don’t respond.”

“I’m assuming they don’t know you’re here.” Yeosang catches on quick. He won’t judge though, he gets it. Sometimes you just gotta do what you gotta do to find some peace. Ain’t the easiest decisions, but worth it for that moment of clarity and calmness.

“No, they don’t. They keep trying to figure it out, but over time, they’ve kinda learned to just let me be. We had a really bad fight before I upped and left.”

“Does anyone know you’re here?”

“My cousin. He’s the closest thing I’ve had to a little brother.”

“That’s good, at least. He checks up on you?”

“He does.” You turn to Yeosang and give him a toothless smile.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what were your parents trying to force on you?”

“I come from a strong, scientific and medical family. If they’re not doctors or nurses, they’re working in research with advanced degrees.”

“Oof.” Yeosang audibly says and you giggle. “Your mom and dad?”

“My dad is a neurosurgeon and my mom is a nurse.”

“Okay, well. I see they’d have big fucking expectations.”

“You think?” You laugh.

“And you wanna work with animals, right?” 

“I do. I’ve always wanted take care of animals. Be around them. Maybe work in a vet. Aquarium? Sanctuary? Idk what or where exactly.”

“Makes sense.” He nods, realizing why you’re so passionate about the shelter and the work you do there. “I mean, that’s kinda close, no? Animals are technically considered science or.. related.” Yeosang shrugs.

“Mm, they don’t look at it that way, though. I either have to be a nurse or doctor. Or a professor, or researcher, with a PhD in hand. Or else I got a kiddy job.” You chuckle. “Oh well. Maybe one day they’ll accept that I’m just different from them.”

“They will. I know it’s not really my place to say this but I’m sure they’re realizing and they miss you.”

“Yeah.” Is all you say. “Can I ask you something a little more personal?”

“Uh, sure. I don’t do nudes, though.” You playfully punch him on the bicep.

“No, you idiot.” You laugh. “Are you dating someone? Or well, I guess you would’ve come here with them if you were, right? I dunno. Maybe you needed space from them, too.” You shake off the thoughts to let him answer. Cute, he thinks. 

“No, I’m not.” 

“Interesting.”

“Okay, now why do you say that?”

“I don’t know, you’re good looking as hell?” He laughs.

“Thanks.” You can see him shying away from the compliment, smiling down at the sand and biting his lip from letting it grow too big. “I haven’t dated since college. My ex and I broke up after graduation because we were just busy and living two different lives. No bad blood, though.” You nod.

“You haven’t had any flings or like, hookups? One night stands?”

“No. Well.” He pauses. “I take that back. I have, but they never lasted for long. I— uh, I have a hard time doing that cause I’m someone who likes to be emotionally invested, too. I don’t know how people do it without letting emotions get involved.”

“That’s valid. I won’t argue with that.” You sip on your water. “What about at work?”

“What do you mean at work?”

“You haven’t dated anyone from work?”

“God, no. Do you know how messy that sounds?” You snort.

“My bad. You’re right.”

“I think.. one of my good friends has feelings for me, though.” 

“So, why not go for it?” He looks at you for a second while he thinks about his response, then turns to the sky.

“Honestly, I just don’t see her that way. I tried to see where it’d go, don’t get me wrong. But, we’re good as friends. I don’t wanna ruin that and I especially don’t wanna hurt her.”

“You’re sweet.”

“Am I? I feel terrible because I feel like I’m already hurting her.”

“How so? It’s not like you two decided on anything, right?” He shakes his head.

“No. She doesn’t do anything to make me uncomfortable or force anything. But since it’s not something we’ve talked about, I almost feel like she thinks that window will always be open. Like she’ll have a chance eventually. I just can’t see her like that, though. Really.” He lets out a breath. “Sorry, I probably sound like a broken record?”

“Stop apologizing, Yeosang. You don’t. I like hearing you talk.” You smile. “If it makes you feel better, you’re not an asshole and you’re not hurting her. You won’t. Most guys won’t even take the time to think about things like this. The time will come when you two have to address it, and I know you’ll be honest about it. It’ll probably sting for her, but I’m sure she’ll be grateful and it’ll be more than what she can ask for. Instead of you leading her on and actually making her think she has a chance, you know?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Cut yourself some slack.” You nudge him a bit.

“What about you?”

“Relationships?” He nods. “Uh, well. My ex and I broke up and it was pretty nasty. Other than that, I’ve had the unserious, young love high school relationship.”

“When did you guys break up?”

“Mm. Let’s just say it wasn’t too, too long ago.” You look down at your hands. “Yeah, it was not pretty.” He can tell you’re not willing to open up about this part of your life, and that’s okay. Maybe one day, before he leaves, you’ll confide in him about it. He can only hope you are okay. You wanna say that it was just right after graduation, though. You wanna tell Yeosang that not only did you feel like you were losing your parents, but your relationship, too. You wanna tell him he was a fucking cheater and treated you like shit, too. You ran here because of him and your family. You ran because it was the easiest thing to do to get away from the pain and hurt, the betrayal. But, you keep silent. Yeosang is becoming someone you enjoy. You like his company and you don’t wanna scare him off with your silly problems, and your trust and self-esteem issues. 

“Does it still bother you?” You shake your head.

“Not at all.” You lie. Because yes, it does. It still hurts, and you still don’t understand what you did wrong. The only thing that’s different now is that you’ve managed to put a cap on it and continue on with your life hoping one day, someone will see your worth.

“Good. Whatever happened, hope you know it wasn’t your fault and your ex was a piece of shit.” You laugh loudly and push him teasingly.

“How would you even know it was his fault, hm? What if it was me?!”

“I don’t know if it’s his fault but he still played a part in it, so I stand by what I said.” You giggle.

“You’re funny.”

“Glad you at least think so.” He smiles at you, and lets his eyes linger for a little longer than usual. The moonlight is hitting you perfectly at all angles and Yeosang can’t help but think about how fucking pretty you are. So much for going solo on this trip. He might just be tipsy, but he’s actually looking forward to spending more time with you. A fresh face to get to know and hang out with. Someone equally intriguing and personable. Yeosang knows you’ll be a problem for him and he doesn’t care to look at the consequences right at this moment.

“What?” You look at him and he snorts.

“Nothing.”

“What? Do I have something on my face?!” He laughs.

“No, no. It’s not that.”

“Then, what?! You’re making me shy.” He shakes his head.

“You’re pretty.” He clears his throat. “I mean, t-the moonlight. It looks pretty on you.”

“Well, thanks.” You giggle. “The moonlight looks pretty on you, too.” You lick your lips. “So, the hike this weekend. Wanna meet up at my apartment around 6am?”

“6am?!” Yeosang’s tone raises. “Jesus Christ. Why so early?”

“Unless you wanna hike underneath the afternoon sun and die?!”

“Okay, point taken.”

“Yeah, exactly.”

“6am it is, then.”

“Jeez, contain your excitement or something.” You tease, continuing to eat at your plate. “Hey. What’s your last name?”

“Kang. Kang Yeosang.”

“That’s a nice name.”

“And yours?”

“Y/L/N.”

“Pretty.” He mutters. You’re having to break contact first, beginning to clean up the mess around you to distract yourself from Yeosang.

“Anyway, all good?” You finish your food and point at the nearly empty containers of food still sitting around.

“Mhm. Thank you. Can I repay you for the food?”

“No, I offered, silly. It didn’t take me long to make.”

“You sure?”

“Positive. Let me get this cleaned up. I wanna head out to the water before we go.” Yeosang quietly helps you clean up and pack the tupperwares into the bag before rolling up your blanket. You set it aside before stepping closer to the water, Yeosang trailing behind as he watches you crouch down and pick at the sand. 

“What’re you doing, Y/N?” He asks with a small chuckle.

“There’s a crab. He’s trying to get into his new shell.” He watches as you help the hermit crab inhabit a new shell and he thinks it’s the cutest fucking thing he’s ever seen in such a long time. “All good!” You watch as the hermit crab waddles away in its new home before picking up another shell nearby. “Isn’t it pretty?” You show him.

“It is.”

“Thanks for inviting me to hang out.” You walk back to towards your stuff, Yeosang walking alongside of you as you head towards your apartment. “You do know you don’t have to walk me, right?”

“Y/N, I told you it was fine. If you didn’t want me around, you could’ve just said so.” You snort.

“Dramatic.”

“Ouch.” He laughs.

“Here.” You hand him the shell. “Your first souvenir, chosen by yours truly.”

“Thank you.” He takes the shell and sticks it in his pocket. “I’ll make sure to take good care of it.” 

“Good. I trust you.” 

“Working tomorrow, I assume?” You nod.

“You should paddleboard tomorrow. Keeho’s off, he’ll probably be out there.”

“Yeah, might check it out.” The rest of the walk home falls into a comfortable silence, but you don’t mind it one bit. Yeosang does his usual of giving you space when you arrive at the lobby door, fishing for your keys before you say your usual goodnights. He waits until you walk down the hall to your apartment, feeling good enough to walk away and head back to his for the night; already looking forward to spending more time with you on the weekend.

Yeosang meets you at the front of your building at 6am on the dot and he has cups of iced coffee in hand. You thank him as you grab a cup and call for a taxi to bring you to the outskirts of town, you and Yeosang already engaging in a lively conversation for 6am in the morning.

The hike surprisingly isn’t bad. Yeosang keeps close to you, hyping you up when you get tired of climbing those damn hills and needing to take a quick break. In between taking in the scenery, you both snap photos on your phone or your polaroid camera— showing Yeosang the pictures as soon as they develop. You ask him to take a picture with you that turns out cute; the both of you making silly poses before Yeosang takes the camera and shoots solo shots of you. The hike is fun; it’s full of easy conversation, lots of laughs and good vibes with Yeosang. It almost feels like you’ve known Yeosang for years with how quick you two clicked. Might’ve taken a little warming up for Yeo, but he swears there isn’t anyone who has ever pulled him out of his shell this fast [and naturally], too. The hike takes close to 3 hours with all the pauses and stops in between, and by the time you get back down to the starting point, it’s still pretty early in the day. The taxi drops you off at the front if your building and Yeosang lingers behind while you fish for your keys per usual.

“Uh, I’m gross and sweaty. How about I shower, grab some food and come back?” Yeosang asks shyly, hand scratching at the nape of his neck.

“Okay then.” You show him the code box near the lobby door. “You can press Apt #2 and I’ll be able to buzz you in. My apartment is just down that hall.”

“I’ll be back.”

“Hurry up. I hate being alone.” You tease and he blushes before licking his lips and nodding.

“I won’t take long.” You smile before walking in and parting ways with Yeosang. When you get inside your studio, you toss your things aside and step into a piping hot shower to ease your muscles. You take a good, long 30-minute shower, using your favorite coconut scrub and massaging it onto your skin before you wrap up and step out. You lotion up using the same brand as your scrub, throwing on a crewneck and shorts. You tidy up around the house, fluffing up the pillows and folding the extra blankets neatly onto the couch. By the time Yeosang is asking to be buzzed in, it’s about an hour and a half since he initially left you. 

“Hey.” He says, stepping into your studio and immediately kicking off his shoes. His eyes roam around your space, slowly walking into the kitchen to set down the bags in his hands. “Cute. The space is very.. you.”

“Why, thank you.” You do a curt bow before helping him unpack the bags. “What’d you get?”

“Bibimbap. And other snacks.” You fish out some ice cream from the side of the bag and laugh.

“Even ice cream?”

“You like melona bars, right? Please tell me you do.”

“I do. I actually really like this one.” You hold up the honeydew Melona box.

“Yessss.” He says. “More brownie points for Kang Yeosang.” You laugh, helping him carry the food to the table in the living room. You pour some water for the both of you, setting it near your bowls before getting comfortable next to him. You flip through your TV, settling for Warm Bodies that is randomly playing on one of the channels. Yeosang starts to talk about his own zombie apocalypse scenario, laying down his plans and what he’d do to survive.

“You know that game, right? The Last of Us? Like that. I probably would wanna keep it moving instead of staying stationary in one spot.”

“Oh my god.” You roll your eyes and laugh.

“What? Don’t you think about these things?”

“No!”

“You should. What’re you gonna do if you wake up tomorrow morning and the zombies have taken over?”

“I’ll stick with you.”

“What if I don’t want you with me?” You playfully punch him on the bicep and he lets out a small ‘ah’ at the contact.

“You punk, you’re so mean. I’d be useful and you’d be missing out!”

“Okay, so tell me how.”

“I just will be! I know a thing or two about boxing and muay thai! And-and, I can cook. I can make us some good shelter. I can clean weapons.”

“You’ve done boxing and muay thai?” You nod. 

“Back when I was at home, yeah.”

“Hot.”

“You’re an idiot.” You laugh. “So you want me on your team now?!”

“Yeah, just to see your boxing and muay thai moves.”

“Well, I’m not so sure I wanna be on your team anymore.”

“Fine.” Yeosang says, setting his empty plate aside. “Suit yourself.” You giggle as you run into the freezer and grab some of the ice cream for you and Yeo to chomp on.

“Hey.”

“Mm?” You turn to him with your melona bar in hand.

“Do your friends have nicknames for you?”

“They just call me Yeo.”

“Hm.” You hum. “Can I call you Sangie?”

“Sangie?” He looks at you with a slightly disgusted expression.

“Please? I don’t wanna just call you Yeo.” He looks at you and you catch the way his eyes dart from yours, down to your lips, then back up to meet your eyes. His expression softens and he lets out a small sigh before shaking his head in disbelief.

“Fine.” You squeal. “Don’t overdo it though, please. For the love of God.”

“I won’t, Sangie.” You tease and he squints at you.

“You’re lucky you’re cute.” You try to playfully hit him but he catches your hand in his, not letting go until you use all your power to release it from his death hold. He laughs as you pout and whine, Yeosang pinching your cheeks as a way to test the waters of being more affectionate and closer to you.

Once you finish eating your ice cream, Yeosang helps you clean up before pushing the table aside so that you two can lay comfortably in the living room floor. You find yourself getting sleepy from the hike and all the food Yeosang brought over, that you curl up into your blanket beside him while he continues to watch. He looks down and chuckles to himself, hearing soft snores coming from beneath the blanket. Sooner or later, Yeosang finds his eyes getting heavier, sinking into his position more as he gets sleepier. Yeosang follows suit and ends up falling asleep, laying flat on his back next to you with his hand lazily on his stomach. Over time, you unknowingly get wrapped up in each other’s arms. At one moment, you’re tucked underneath Yeosang’s chin. The next, your back is pressed against him while he has an arm over you. But even when you stir in your sleep and pop your eyes open for a quick second, none of it feels weird to you. You like being close to him.

Unknowingly watching new paths unfold right in front of you. Shit is crazy.

Your phone rings and you’re popping your head up to see who could possibly be calling and waking you up from your nap. Though you move to quickly grab the phone and peek at the caller ID, Yeo doesn’t do much to move away or give you space. Instead, he continues to keep an arm around you. He kinda likes that you haven’t rejected his little acts of affection and that you’ve been reciprocating in one way or another. It makes him feel more comfortable around you, and it makes him feel like he’s not the only one feeling the way that he feels. Hopefully, you see it too.

“Hold on, sorry.” You grab your phone and answer the call, sitting up as Yeosang continues to quietly lay next to you; arm loosely hanging over your legs. “Hey.”

“Yo.” Your cousin, Jeongin, greets you on the other line. “Sorry, I meant to call you earlier but I got busy.”

“All good.” You chuckle. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. Guess what?”

“Hm?” You hum, your finger tracing the veins on Yeosang’s arm.

“I got an internship at one of the companies I applied for!” You squeal.

“Oh my god, congrats! I knew you would! When do you start?”

“Probably beginning of next month? I need to get through all of my paperwork and health clearances first. It’s gonna take awhile, but by next month for sure.”

“Yay! That’s awesome, Innie! I’m so proud of you!”

“Thanks. I’m proud of me, too.” You snort.

“Okay, champ.”

“Hey, how’s everything down there, by the way?”

“Good.” You pause and Jeongin laughs. 

“Just good? What have you been up to?”

“Working, hanging out.”

“Uh huh.” He laughs. “You were supposed to tell me more about that visitor that came to town?” You look at Yeosang who is now looking up at you with curious eyes.

“Um, I’ll have to tell you another time.”

“Why? Is he with you right now?”

“Yeah.”

“Just.. you two?”

“Mhm.” Yeosang can obviously tell the topic has turned to him, and he can’t help but chuckle a bit at how shy and quiet you’re trying to be. Even though he's literally laying next to you with his arm sprawled across your lap.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt anything.” He smiles through the phone. “He better be good to you or else I’ll fight him.”

“Please, I don’t think you have to worry about that.”

“Right.” Jeongin smiles. Your cousin was always going to protect you and be there for you, especially after all the shit you’ve been through. All the hurt you’ve experienced. He couldn’t help but feel overprotective over you, and he couldn’t help but worry about you. And yeah, if this ever turned to anything, it would take awhile for Jeongin to trust them. He’s seen people fuck you over time and time again that he no longer just sit back and be too relaxed about people who come into your life. He’s seen you cry way more times than he’d like to count.

“By the way.” He clears his throat. “Your mom said hi. She said she misses you but hopes you’re well.” You swallow the lump in your throat, licking your lips when your mouth suddenly feels dry. Yeosang catches onto the mood switch— watching as your smile drops, your hand now retracting from his arm and curling up against your lap.

“Oh. Uh, tell her I said hi, too.” Jeongin sighs.

“Your parents really miss you, you know?”

“Well.” Is all you can say.

“At least call or text your mom? She worries about you every day.”

“Then maybe she should have backed me up when dad was saying all those things about me. Like oh, you know, how worthless I am.” 

“They should’ve known better, and they shouldn’t have done that. You don’t have to forgive them for it, but give her some peace of mind. She’s still your mom.”

“Oh, Innie. Can never get anything past you.”

“I’m just saying.” He chuckles. “Please? Just text her soon. Doesn’t have to be long.”

“We’ll see.”

“Anyway, I won’t keep you long. Just wanted to check in and tell you the good news. Hope you and your new man are having a good evening together.”

“He—I—” You pause and let out a breath. “That’s not exactly it but okay, yes we are.” Jeongin laughs louder.

“Alright. I’ll talk to you later? Text or call me if anything.”

“I know. You too.”

“Love you!” He says in a sing-song tone.

“Love you, too.” And with that, the call ends. You always hate getting off the phone with your cousin because it makes you miss home more than you’d like to admit. You would go home just to spend time with him like you used to, but the memories, the thoughts of your parents, all seem to be overbearing and make you regret even having the thought in the first place. You do miss him, a lot though. Since graduating, he had been busy trying to get into the workforce just like your family had pressured him into doing; applying for internships left and right to gain some experience before applying to graduate school. So, he hadn’t been able to visit like he planned to. Maybe one day you’ll be able to look past it and come home.

“Sorry.” You look at Yeosang, who is now stretching and sitting up next to you. “My cousin.”

“All good.” He grabs his water from the table and sits back down next to you. “You okay?”

“Uh, yeah. I think so.”

“Your parents?” Is all Yeo says, hoping he isn’t poking too far into details and making you uncomfortable.

“Oh yeah.” You pathetically chuckle. “We’ve gotten into a lot of arguments before I left, that’s all. He was telling me my mom missed me and that I should at least try to text her that I’m doing okay.”

“I know it’s not easy but.. you should.” He says softly while turning his attention back to you. You maintain eye contact, catching his eyes quickly shoot down to your lips then back up to your eyes again. It makes you feel butterflies when he looks at you the way that he does, and it makes you wanna crawl back into your shell and hide. You look down and fiddle with your fingers, hoping it could distract you somehow.

“I dunno. I think I’m still having trouble letting go of what happened between us.”

“Mm.” He hums. “Do you miss them, though?”

“Mm, yeah.” You respond, close to a whisper. “It’ll always suck that our relationship isn’t what it used to be.”

“Whenever you’re ready, you should. Take your time with it, though.”

“Thanks.” You look up and give him a small smile. You quickly check the time, noticing dinner is approaching. “If you wanna stay for a little longer, I can whip up some dinner?”

“Sure.” He chuckles. “Can’t turn down a home cooked meal.”

“Of course.” You laugh, getting up from your seat.

“I mean, it’s a bonus that you’re cooking it.”

“Kang Yeosang, please. No need to save yourself.” You go through the stuff in the fridge, figuring out what to whip for dinner. “Are you a picky eater?”

“Nope.” He rests his head back against the edge of the couch.

“Good. You can change the channel, by the way.” You giggle, grabbing the ingredients from the fridge and setting up the pot on the stove. Yeosang flips the channel to the baseball game that’s happening in the city tonight, cheering along whenever they hit a home run. You laugh from the kitchen, asking him what sports he likes to indulge in and if him and his father went to games often. He replies that they have, and that baseball and soccer are more of their thing than anything else. It’s cute, really. Super endearing. It kinda reminds you of the times when you were younger and your dad would bring you to baseball games. It feels like such a distant and far memory. Like it never even happened, almost. That’s how much things have changed over the years. Your relationship with your dad hasn’t felt the same.

Once you’ve finished whipping up the tteokmanduguk, you bring the pot over to the coffee table, along with two small bowls and utensils. Yeosang grabs more water for you two and some beer for himself before settling next to you and indulging in another movie for the night. You tell him that you and your friends are gonna have a movie night soon, and that he should join along. There’s also a party that Jungkook is planning to host at one of the nearby bars. Yeosang agrees simply by telling you he’s down to go wherever you are since, after all, you are his self-proclaimed tour guide. You laugh it off even though deep down, it makes you feel giddy and happy he’d come along.

When dinner comes to an end, Yeosang does a lot to help you clean up around the living room and in the kitchen. He offers to wash your dishes while stacking them onto the dish rack, cleaning around your stove and coffee table to make sure it’s in pristine condition. It’s about that time that he calls it a night, but he truly is hating to do so. Because when he leaves, you feel sad. And he does, too. He’s starting to hate the feeling of going separate ways and he’s not even sure how you were able to make him feel that way so quickly. You walk him to the door and thank him again for his company before Yeosang does the same and tells you how much he really enjoyed spending time with you today. You tippytoe to give him a quick kiss to the cheek, and Yeosang instantly smiles. It gives you butterflies how he responds, but you leave it at that— not too overwhelm him or do too much.

But at the end of his first full week in town, Yeosang finds himself utterly smitten with you, drowning in pure adoration for someone he met on a whim. The hike was what did it for him, watching as you were so carefree and comfortable around him— that being the exact thing that pulled him out of his shell entirely. He hadn’t genuinely enjoyed himself this much in awhile, laughing during most of the hike and feeling excited about exploring town with you. You even understand his humor and Yeosang thinks it’s so, so nice to be comfortable in his own skin and personality around you.

If he had to lay out what his ideal type was, it’d literally be you. Because you check off all the boxes, and it’s so fucking surreal that Yeosang is looking at you right in the face, seeing you in the flesh. It’s so unexpected, but it’s the best thing he’s come across in a long time. Unexpected and quick, but the best.

“Goodnight.” You smile and lean your head against the door frame. “I’ll see you tomorrow, maybe?” You take a few tiny steps back.

“Mhm.” It seems like Yeosang had other plans because he gently grabs you by the wrist and tugs you back; immediately cupping your cheeks and bringing his lips to yours. He holds the kiss there, thumb subtly caressing at your right cheek, before he slightly pulls away and looks at you. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

This is the moment that changed everything for him and he didn’t even realize it at the time. 

And he means everything.

From that moment, your days consisted of spending time with Yeosang in one form or another. Whether it be after your shift at the restaurant, waiting after you were done at the shelter to go shop at the tiny outdoor mall nearby, hanging out at the beach with your friends or being together at each other’s places— Yeosang was there. He’s even become acquainted with more people around town with your help, accompanying a few of the elderly neighbors to their appointments nearby, helping carry loads and loads of heavy packages into restaurants or buckets of fish into the fish market, playing around with the kids running around. Yeosang was there.

If you had come to town and met him, you would’ve never known he was a visitor himself. You loved that he blended in well, though. You loved that he seemed to be happier and more comfortable, and you hope this is everything he had wished for in a peaceful, relaxing vacation. When the month comes to an end, you’re honestly not sure what you’ll do or how you’ll feel. Yeosang has become a part of your days, the town, so easily in such a short amount of time that you already feel empty just thinking about it. But, those are problems for future Y/N. Present Y/N isn’t gonna trip about it right now. Instead, focus on the now. Having him here, seeing him in the flesh and being able to keep him near. 

“So, are we picking up your man?” Mingi hops in the driver’s seat, with Keeho in the passenger's seat. You and your other friend Mina sit in the back, with Mina nudging you in the arm. Jungkook had a few things to close out at the shop, telling the group he’d meet at Mingi and Keeho’s shared place in a few.

“I can’t wait to see him!” She squeals. Mina was another one of your good friends from town, but she too had been away and just got back home. You, Keeho, Mingi and Jungkook kept her up to date as possible, with Mina the most excited to meet Yeosang and see who had been occupying your time these days. 

“Yes, please. He’s ready.” You tell Mingi the address. 

“She’s not even denying the phrase anymore. Must really be her man now.” Keeho adds, making Mina smack him on the neck from behind.

“Mind your business, she’s happy!”

“I never even said it was wrong?! I’m glad you’re happy Y/N, seriously. Shit, Mina.” He turns to her and rolls his eyes.

“You two look like you’ve known each other for years. It is pretty cute.” Mingi adds as he continues to keep his eyes on the road. Over this time, you and Yeosang had gotten quite affectionate with each other. A lot of it behind doors, but still pretty obvious around other people. It was the hand on the small of your back or hips. Hands grazing or pinkies holding onto each other. Whispers in each other’s ears. The flirty smiles and blushing. Yeosang’s arm over your shoulder. The playful hugs. Behind doors, there were a lot of little kisses on the cheek. The lips. Just enough to want more of each other but still afraid to cross those lines and ask for too much. But god, did Yeosang find it hard to keep his composure around you. He wanted you.

When you arrive at the front of Yeosang’s studio, he’s just stepped out of his door. He’s comfortably in matching sweats and a hoodie, a small smile painted on his face when he sees your head hanging out the window. “Hey!” You smile at him and Yeosang almost buckles at the fucking knees.

“Get your big ass head back in the car, Y/N. My neck is cold!” Keeho laughs.

“Fuck you!” 

“Let me put up the window!” Keeho whines.

“Sup.” He says, giving Keeho a dap before waving at Mingi as he approaches the car.

“Oh my god, he’s so fucking handsome.” Mina says behind you, tugging on your shirt. “What the fuck! Where can I find one!”

“Sh!” You shush her while laughing and settling back in your seat. Yeosang slips in next to you and immediately looks at you with a soft expression.

“Hey.” He says before shifting his attention to Mina, who is currently leaning over you to get a better look at him.

“Hi! I’m Mina! We haven’t met yet cause I just got back from vacation.” She holds out her hand and shakes his hand firmly before giggling. 

“Nice to meet you. I’m Yeosang.”

“What a catch.” Mina says in your ear, causing the heat to rise to your cheeks.

“Did you eat? Cause these assholes don’t know how to cook.” You look at him and he chuckles.

“Yeah, I did.”

“We have chips and shit! Plus, Kook said he’s gonna bring some chicken or whatever.”

“How was work and the shelter today?” 

“Good, kinda busy. Ro got adopted!”

“That’s great! What else happened?”

“Nothing. The usual.” You shrug and Yeosang nods, his hand coming to rest on your thigh. “What’d you do today?”

“Uh, go to the gym. Checked out those places you sent me the other day.” 

“Oh nice! Did you eat at Mom’s Kitchen?” He nods.

“It’s so good.”

“Isn’t it?!” Mina catches sight of Yeosang’s hand on your thigh and she begins to subtly nudge your arm, in which you nudge back. The ride is somewhat quiet, with the occasional bickering in between you, Mingi, Keeho and Mina. Yeosang laughs next to you, thoroughly enjoying the chemistry between your friends as it reminds him of his own. He does miss his friends, but it’s nice to be around fresh faces. New energy.

“So, what are we putting on first?” Mingi sets the grocery bags down on their kitchen counter, taking the chips and candy out for everyone to help themselves to.

“Girl in the Picture!” Mingi groans when he hears your response and Keeho’s immediate agreement.

“Oh my fucking god, can you please? Let’s watch something else!” Mingi scolds you. “All Y/N and Keeho do is watch true crime shit and talk about it for days on end.” He turns to Yeosang with the complaint, but all Yeosang can do is smile and laugh it off.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Tall and Bland? Sometimes, it’s good to be educated and aware, especially in today’s world.” Keeho shakes his head. “Anyway, back to putting this shit on.” You snort, watching as Keeho puts on Girl in the Picture. At this point, Jungkook walks in and kicks off his shoes, setting a large tray of chicken wings onto the table, along with its included side dishes.

“Here. Eat up.”

“Oh shit.” Mingi says, immediately piling a good amount of chicken onto his paper plate.

“Don’t be stingy!” Jungkook calls to Yeosang. “Yeo, come and get something to eat before these two big-backs take it all.”

“I know you aren’t talking about me cause I’m sitting right here.” Keeho chimes in while scrolling through his phone.

“You don’t wanna eat more?” Yeo shakes his head.

“I’m good, thank you though!” He directs his thank you’s to the boys for providing food. You and Mina grab some chips and candy before you settle back onto your seats— Mina on the floor near the loveseat, Mingi sprawled on the couch, Keeho near one end of the couch on the floor, and you and Yeosang on the opposite end on the floor.

“You guys don’t ever get creeped out by this shit?” Jungkook plops onto the loveseat, letting his left leg dangle off the arm of the couch while he sits in a weird position.

“I do, but it’s also interesting to learn about these cases. Truthfully, I wouldn’t know these even happened without the content we get on them.”

“Okay, I can get with that.” Jungkook adds, still chomping on his m&ms. You snuggle against Yeosang while you two sit closely, his arm draped around your shoulders while he props a leg up. 

“Didn’t know you were into true crime like that.” Yeosang chuckles.

“It’s just interesting.” You look at him with a brow raised. “Are you making fun of me?”

“What, no?” He smiles. “Just mentally adding it my list of all the things you like.”

“You’re keeping track?”

“If I say no?” He teases, making you gently pinch him on the side before returning your attention to the documentary. 

“Mean.”

“Well, for the record. I am.” He says lowly by your ear before pressing a light kiss to the side of your head, causing the heat to rise to your cheeks and a small smile to tug at the corners of your lips. You giggle overhearing Jungkook complain about the many layers this case already has in the first half, while Keeho is having to pause the documentary a few times to explain what’s actually going on. You chime in to back him up, only pressing play when the others have finally gotten on the same page. Yeosang chuckles to himself seeing the chaotic bickering occur again, all while enjoying having you snuggled underneath his arm. When the documentary comes to a close, Mingi suggests putting on Skinamarink as the next movie. 

“Listen, it’s a different horror film! It’s experimental. Two kids wake up and their dad is legit missing outta nowhere. You never see the characters fully in frame, but it’s obvious something is wrong. You just hear things. Like them whispering or the cartoons playing. The trailer was so fucking creepy.”

“Ou, okay. Mangi finally has a good recommendation, I fuck with it.” Keeho pulls up the movie and presses play.

“I’m scared!” Mina squeals and puts her hands over her eyes, making Jungkook playfully tear them away.

“Nah, if we’re watching this, you are too.”

“Then move! Let me sit on the seat and you sit on the floor closer to the TV!” Jungkook laughs and stands to switch with her, plopping onto the floor as the movie kicks off.

“Oh hell no.” You mutter to yourself when the movie starts, immediately terrified from the creepy vibe of the movie. Yeo feels you snuggle up to him even more and he hugs you a little tighter, his arm now completely wrapped around your shoulders.

“This is actually kinda good.” 

“It’s so creepy.” 

“Yeah, it is. That’s what makes it a good horror movie.” He looks down at you. “Scared?”

“Kinda.” You’ve fallen to a whisper with how eerily silent the movie is despite the children talking and the creepy cartoons filling the background noise. Mingi, Jungkook and Keeho take turns yelling out of their asses, scared of what’s to come from the movie.

“How are you scared of this but not true crime, pretty girl?” Yeosang teases, gently pinching at your cheek.

“That’s different.”

“How?” He chuckles.

“I can’t explain it.” You pout, suddenly jumping in his arms when new activities happen in the movie.

“You’re okay.” He laughs, but you continue to pout. “Stop pouting. You’re making it really hard not to kiss you.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“Yeah, kinda.”

“No one said you couldn’t kiss me.” You tease. “It’s not like you haven’t.”

“Shut up.” He leans in to peck you on the lips, fingers gently caressing your chin. You giggle, resting your head on his shoulder as you continue to watch the movie. The both of you chime in with theories as things progress in the movie, with you using Yeosang’s hand to cover your eyes every now and then. He laughs, trying to rip his hand away to force you to watch. But, he stops; letting you cover your eyes when you and Mina start genuinely whining about how spooked you’re feeling from the movie.

“Oh shit.” Jungkook laughs as the boys continue to watch. “This is fucked up. The movie is all about making you feel all weird and unsettled but nothing really happens. It just thrives on that energy. The fear of the unknown.”

“I’m not gonna lie, I’m kinda fucking scared.” Keeho snorts.

“It reminds me of when I was a kid.” Mingi adds. “You guys remember waking up in the middle of the night and being scared to turn around cause it feels like something is there?”

“Yeah.” Yeosang chimes in. “Then you start spiraling into your own thoughts cause you don’t know if something is there or not, and then you start feeling more anxious and scared.”

“Yeah, exactly!”

“I hated that.”

“That’s why I never put my feet out from under the blanket.” Jungkook says, making everyone laugh.

“Oh shit!” They all collectively say when one of the rare jumpscares comes up. You feel Yeosang get startled next to you, causing you to giggle and poke fun at him.

“At least I’m watching!”

“You’re right, sorry.” You say sarcastically, giving him a tiny peck on the jaw. Just as you’re about to pull back and rest your head on his shoulder, he quickly dips in for another kiss on the lips. You scrunch your nose in response and he just about dies at how cute it is, pulling you closer towards him [if there were any possible way to be closer]. Towards the end of the movie, everyone finishes strong despite how spooked they feel. There were a bunch of ‘oh ew’s’ and ‘oh fuck no’s’ from the group while watching the ending scene, with Yeosang even making a face at how terrifying the ending is. 

“Okay, that was a good one.” Jungkook turns to Mingi. “How’d you find out about it?”

“Research.”

“You’re so full of shit.” Keeho glares at him. “What Youtube video were you watching when the ad popped up?” You all laugh.

“Let him have this one, Keeho. Damn.” You add.

“Real.” Jungkook stands and stretches. “Anyway, successful movie night I’d say. Are you guys gonna go to the bar next week? For the party?” He turns to you and Yeosang. “Yeo?”

“Yeah, for sure.” He nods, making Jungkook smile.

“Sick. It’ll be fun.” He grabs his keys and swings it around his finger. “I’m about to dip. Tired as fuck now. You three wanna ride with me so I can take you home?”

“Yeah, I’m fucking scared, though.” Mina laughs.

“Just turn on your lofi playlist.” Mingi says. “That can fix anything.”

“Sleep Soul by Jhene Aiko will fix anything, that’s for damn sure.” 

“I’m about to sleep with my night light on.” Keeho laughs. “Man, fuck you. It was a good recommendation but now I’m scared.”

“It was good, huh?” Mingi asks cockily. “I’ll cover for next movie night.”

“No, hell no. Need a good break.” You stand and stretch, giving Keeho and Mingi a hug after thanking them for hosting movie night. Yeosang follows suit, bidding the two farewells before slipping into his shoes and following you three out of the door.

“I’m about to leave all the lights on at my place, I don’t care. I can handle a few nights of the bill being high.”

“Same.”

“You have Yeosang, though!”

“He doesn’t stay with me!” You fire back with a laugh, even though it does kinda suck that you’re still having to say goodbye to Yeosang at the end of the day. This was progressing into who knows what— you had no idea what you two were at this point. All you know is that you have deep feelings for this man, and you hope he does, too. It’s kinda silly to be falling this deep, but you click with him. It’s a connection you can’t put into words. And that is terrifying.

Jungkook drives Mina to her place before dropping you off, leaving him alone with Yeosang as the last stop. Jungkook asks a few times if you’re both sure that you don’t need to stay at one place or the other, shrugging it off when you both shyly agree that you’ll part ways for the night.

Yeosang wishes he didn’t, because the night he does sleepover brings him to new territories with you and he wished he had explored it sooner.

You had been working at the restaurant for a full shift, and Yeosang had been out on the water with Mingi and a few other people from town. When he finally gets a text from you that you’ve finished your shift and closed up for the night with Jungkook, he’s back at home all freshly showered and patiently waiting for you. He feels his heart skip a beat, and he immediately throws on a windbreaker over his black tank top before dashing through the door with a simple—

[yeosang]: see you soon 😊

[you]: yay!

He chuckles to himself as he begins a light jog over to your place, knowing you’re probably taking your time heading home from work or stopping by to check on a few people. He doesn’t mind, though. He’ll gladly wait for you for as long as you need him to, especially if that means seeing you and spending time with you. 

So, he does just that until he finally catches wind of you approaching the apartment [faster than expected]. Yeosang silently leans back against the wall, watching as you skip towards the house and even do a little twirl. He lets out a soft chuckle to himself at how oblivious you are to his presence, even picking up the phone to call him. He purposely doesn’t pick up to see how long it’ll take you to notice, watching as you pause in your steps and glare at your phone when he doesn’t pick up the call.

“Why isn’t he answering me?” You pout as you tuck your phone away and dig for your keys. “Kang Yeosang. You better have a good excuse—”

“Like.. what? Sorry, I was faster than you and have been waiting?” Your attention shoots up to Yeosang still patiently waiting by the lobby door to the complex, your eyes lighting up as you let out a squeal and instantly throw your arms around him.

“I missed you.” You cutely mumble against him, his hand rubbing up and down your back as he holds you close.

“I missed you too, cutie.” He presses a kiss against the side of your head. “How was your shift?”

“It was okay, pretty busy.”

“Yeah? Least you get to relax now.” 

“Thank god.” You laugh, fiddling with your keys to unlock your door while Yeosang wraps his arms around your shoulders from behind. 

“I’ve been waiting all day.” He says softly against your head.

“I’m here now.”

“What do you wanna do tonight?” You shrug.

“I dunno. Anything! I just need to shower first because I feel kinda gross.” You laugh as you both step out of your shoes and drop your things off to the side, on the kitchen table.

“Cute regardless.” Yeosang smiles and you shake your head.

“Lies, all lies.”

“I would never lie to you.” He gently caresses your chin. “How about I cook something while you go shower and get comfortable?” You gasp.

“Yeosang cooking again?”

“I can whip up a good meal or two when I want, okay.” He rolls his eyes before squeezing your side. “Go.”

“Demanding.” You tease before grabbing your pajamas and heading off to the shower. Yeosang stands in your kitchen area for a good minute, hands placed on his hips as he contemplates on what he can cook. He rummages through your mini pantry and fridge, digging up some of your prepped cucumbers, radishes, boiled eggs and broth to make some naengmyeon. It’s a dish he’s able to whip up quickly, carrying your bowl and his to the living room coffee table. You finish your shower about 10 minutes later, and Yeosang is quietly sitting on the couch flipping through the channels. You run a towel through your damp hair, smiling at the two bowls ready made for you two.

“Aw.” You giggle. “Thank you.” You sit next to him and give him a soft, feathery kiss to the cheek. He turns to catch your lips in another kiss, making you scrunch your nose in response.

“You’re very welcome.” The two of you find a movie to settle on before indulging in your meal. Afterwards, you tidy up and grab some of the ice cream still sitting in your freezer from last time— handing Yeosang a melona bar as you plop back down next to him. He’s cozy, and you snuggle up close to feel more of his warmth. “Fuck, I don’t wanna move.” Yeosang sighs, leaning his head back onto the couch after he’s finished his ice cream. It’s nearing midnight and he truly hates the thought of leaving you at this point.

“You don’t have to.” You softly respond and he pops an eye open to examine your expression, body language. “Stay.”

“You’ll be comfortable with that?”

“Course.” You giggle. “I have a stack of extra toothbrushes, you know, in case the zombie apocalypse happens and we need them for a variety of reasons.” He snorts.

“Ah, touché. Nice to know you’d yield a toothbrush as a weapon. Makes me feel really safe.” You playfully toss a crumpled napkin his way. 

“Come.” You take his hand and lead him into your bathroom so he can get settled however he’d like. You hand him an extra toothbrush that he takes. Takes him a minute to register the item in his hand, that he’s standing in your bathroom getting ready for bed at your place. Which, is incredibly domestic as fuck for him; someone who doesn’t even know what this is or if there’s such a thing with labels nowadays. As much as he feels like he should drop it and forcibly distance himself from this, he can’t. Because he’d be lying to himself. How can he when he’s so incredibly smitten, so fucking in love with you already?

He adores you. He can’t lie that he’s been drawn to you from the start. He could never drop this or distance himself from you. His days don’t mean shit without you now.

Yeosang brushes his teeth and gets himself a little more comfortable while you tidy up in the kitchen and living room. The TV is off, and the only lights illuminating the space are from the kitchen and your Sailor Moon LED lamp on your nightstand. It’s blue, and it casts a pretty shade against the wall. 

“Are you gonna get ready for bed after?”

“Uh huh.” You wipe your hands on the hand towel.

“I can sleep on the couch—”

“No, you don’t have to do that. I don’t mind sharing my bed.” You laugh.

“A-are you sure, Y/N? I don’t wanna invade your space more than I already have.”

“Swear it’s okay. Or else, I wouldn’t have told you to stay and offered an extra toothbrush from my stash.” He chuckles and nods.

“Okay.” He slowly pads over to your bed, throwing the sheets from your neatly-made bed back. He rips off his hoodie and tosses it aside, leaving him in his white tee and sweats. He slips into the side of your bed, resting his hand behind his head with a leg propped up while he scrolls through his phone and waits for you. Within a couple of minutes, you’re shutting off the lights in your bathroom and walking over to the other side of the bed. He watches you go through your phone, soft music now playing through your bluetooth speakers.

“Hope you don’t mind. It actually helps me fall asleep.” You slip in next to him and it suddenly feels so fucking unreal that he’s laying next to you. About to sleepover for the night. Ain’t that some shit?

“It’s okay.” You turn to face him and he does the same, eyeing your features under the blue light. He pushes your hair back before caressing your cheek. 

“Why do you keep staring at me, Kang Yeosang?”

“You’re just.. so pretty, Y/N.” He says close to a whisper. “It almost feels unreal.”

“Stop.” You giggle. 

“I mean it.” He smiles, gently tugging you by the elbow to bring you closer. “Come here.” You scoot closer, resting right near Yeosang’s chin. His thumb glides over the surface of your chin, lifting it ever so slightly so that he can get a better look at your face from his angle. You edge a little closer, your lips grazing his before he dips forward. The kiss immediately starts heated, full of emotions. As you deepen the kiss, Yeosang lets out a small groan while his hand rests on your cheek. You press against him more, and he’s doing everything he can to take it slow, take his time. But, he can’t. Not when you know how to kiss so fucking well. Not when you continue to press against him, rocking yourself against his rock hard dick. Every kiss, every move, turns Yeosang on a ‘lil more than the last and he’s not sure if he’ll be able to hold it in tonight. He’s about to break.

“Fuck.” He lets out a shaky sigh, sucking onto your bottom lip as he tugs back and lets go. You slowly guide his hand down your chest, to your waist; to the lining of your panties. Yeosang’s fingers toy with the material under your shorts, slightly dipping beneath the hemline to test the waters all while kissing you deeply. When he finally gains the courage to explore a little deeper, he toys with your folds before sliding a digit in— trying to get a feel for how tight and wet you are.

“You’re so wet.” He whispers against your lips, but he barely gets the last half out before you’re swallowing his words and taking him in for another kiss. Yeosang slips in another finger, this time, pumping it at a faster pace than the last; a stupid smirk growing on his face when he hears the sounds coming from your pussy. “That’s so fucking hot.”

“Sangie.” You whimper. “More. Please.” He hisses hearing you beg, weak at the doe-eyed, innocent look you give him.

“You’re dripping.” He bites onto his bottom lip, curling his fingers into you. “All this for me?” You let out a choked moan when he hits you right at your spot, your hips getting a mind of their own and slowly riding his fingers. Your hand comes down to palm Yeosang’s hard cock through his sweats.

“Sangie, like that.” You nod to continue egging him on, begging him to let you cum, to push you over the edge. It doesn’t take long after this for you to let out a loud moan, your orgasm washing over your entire body. Yeosang smiles contently as he slowly pumps his fingers into you, thumb grazing your overly-sensitive clit that you’re having to grab at his wrist to stop him from doing so. “Oh shit.” You mewl while Yeosang laughs, pressing feathery kisses to your temple, jaw, corner of your lips. You take the two digits into your mouth and get a taste of yourself, Yeosang hissing when he watches you do. He loves the way your tongue swirls around his fingers, pretty lips wrapped around them while you get a taste.

“Oh my god.” He groans a bit. “You’re gonna kill me.” You look at him, dazed and all over this cloud nine shit, hoping you can satisfy his needs, too. You continue to palm him, feeling how incredibly hard he is through the material and wanting more of him.

“Can I?” He nods, allowing you to pull his length from its confines and slowly pump him. His dick is perfectly thick, sitting at a good length. The thought of him pumping this inside of you makes you drool. Your thumb swipes his tip, spreading his pre-cum across the surface. You work your hand in certain motions, pumping his length at a continuous, steady pace. You feel him buck into your hand a few times, his subtle way of asking you to keep going, to keep up at the pace you’re going.

“Oh—” He mutters. “Fuck, yeah.” He moans. “That’s it, baby.” You melt at the petname he lets out, his sultry tone sending goosebumps throughout your body. He begins to pant, signaling that he’s close. All Yeosang can think of is taking that next step with you and god, does he want you. But, he’ll take his time. He wants to do right by you. “I’m gonna cum— baby—” He chokes out. You pick up the pace and let him buck into your hand a few more times before you’re catching his release into your hand, a small amount landing on his lower tummy. “Shit. I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” You laugh. “Don’t be.”

“Let me help you get cleaned up.” He takes a napkin from your nightstand to clean himself up, then you, your hand. You’ve gotten some of his load on your finger, which you gladly take into your mouth. Yeosang pauses as he watches you, shaking his head in response.

“You’re actually out to kill me. There’s no way.” He glares at you while you giggle, letting him wipe down the rest of your hand. “You okay?”

“I am.” 

“Want me to grab you anything? Water?”

“No. Just hold me.” You say cutely and Yeosang can’t even think about rejecting your request. He pulls you close and places a big kiss on your forehead before coming down to your lips. “Night Sangie.” You say against his chest.

“Goodnight, love.” His heart swells when you snuggle into him, shortly falling asleep within the next few minutes. He takes his time to admire you, eyes trained on your features, your sleeping body, the soft smile on your face. He thinks this is the moment he truly could admit that he had started to really fall in love with you because there’s no other place he’d rather be. If he could choose any moment in time, he’d come back to this. Over and over again. He’d choose you, over and over again.

“Y/N. When are you coming home?” Changbin asks on the other line, with Ryujin and San sitting next to him.

“Yeah, cause. It’s lonely out here. I need you. These two are useless—” Changbin turns his phone away so he’s the only one in view, glaring at Ryujin next to him.

“By the way this is my phone call with Y/N. I don’t remember inviting you two?”

“Why me? I’m just here!” San whines. “She’s my bestfriend, too. Huh, Y/N?”

“She was my bestfriend first, you assholes!” Ryujin shoves San away.

“Anyway.” Bin fixes the phone, making you laugh. “Seriously, when are you coming home? We haven’t seen you in years and you won’t even let us come down to visit wherever you are.”

“Cause I’m busy and exploring.” You vaguely say. “I dunno when I’ll come home.”

“Do you even miss home?”

“I do. I miss you guys. I miss Innie.”

“Then?”

“Then, I don’t know? I’ve been doing okay here.”

“Are you replacing us with your friends there?” San asks.

“No one is replacing anyone.”

“Your parents miss you.” 

“As I’ve heard.” Your heart sinks; all of a sudden, you’re homesick again, and you miss your friends. It had been hard to leave them, too. But, you needed to find yourself, and you needed to work on things for your own self, for your own sake and peace. It was important.

“Look. You don’t have to move back home, but at least visit if you don’t want us coming to you.”

“I know. Maybe soon, yeah?” You smile. “I promise. So? Tell me. What else is new there?”

“Nothing.” Changbin snorts. “Nothing at all.”

“Ryujin and I started learning tennis.” You laugh at San.

“Tennis?!”

“It’s fun!” Ryujin pouts. “I’d usually do this with you, but I have to settle for the boys.” It’s true— Ryujin was your bestfriend, and you used to do everything with her. Whether it was staying up late and exploring, going out to parties, trying all kinds of activities; she was your girl and vice versa. You missed her so, so much. But, she knew how much you needed this break and how much you needed to be away from the past, old memories. She understood you, and even though it hurt to let you go, she just wanted what was best for you.

“I just sit and watch.” Changbin adds. “Fetch the ball a few times.”

“Sounds like you.” You laugh.

“What about you? Anything new down there?”

“No.” You quickly change the subject. “Innie told me he got the internship at one of the companies he applied to!”

“Yeah, we saw him the other day and he told us. Even more of a reason for you to come home to celebrate?” You chuckle.

“Yeah.” You hear the shower cut off in the bathroom. “Anyway, I gotta go. Got some plans for tonight.”

“Okay. Be safe.” Changbin responds before Ryujin and San fit themselves into the tiny frame and wave.

“Miss you. Love you.” Ryujin pouts.

“I miss you and love you guys. Always.” You wave once more before setting the phone down. You set it on the charger as you sit criss-crossed on your bed, resting in Yeosang’s shirt. He steps out of your bathroom in some track pants while unfolding the shirt in his hands. You can’t help but fix on his abs just as he’s about to throw his shirt on, feeling all sorts of butterflies in your tummy after seeing how incredibly ripped he was.

You knew he was built well, but to see this— see it in action and in front of your eyes was different.

“My personality is up here.” Yeosang catches you staring when he gets his shirt on, a smirk plastered on his face as he crawls back onto your bed and gives you a quick peck to the lips.

“I wasn’t doing anything.”

“So.. you weren’t just staring at me?”

“You did that on purpose. You could’ve thrown your shirt on before leaving the bathroom, you demon.”

“You mad about it?” He bites onto his bottom lip, squeezing your thigh.

“No.” You roll your eyes and he laughs.

“Come here. Gimme a kiss.” You quickly oblige and dip forward to kiss him again; this time, deepening the kiss just enough to please him and tease him [for more]. The way he looks at you when you pull away makes your heart do a thousand flips, and you can’t help but let out a tiny giggle when he taps the tip of your nose. “Were you talking to someone while I was in the bathroom?”

“Oh.” You nod. “Mhm. Just friends.”

“Like Jungkook and them?”

“Childhood friends.” You vaguely respond.

“Oh. From home?” You nod.

“People I grew up with. They’re just checking in.” 

“That’s nice. Are they planning to come visit you or something?”

“No. They’re all too busy for that.” You give him a tiny toothless smile before hopping off the bed to get ready. “Anyway, I’m gonna start getting ready for the party.”

“I’ll be here.”

“Must be nice to just throw on your shit and go.” You laugh, digging through your closet for an outfit.

“You know you’d look good in anything.”

“My makeup!”

“You don’t even need it, pretty.” He lays back on your bed, shutting his eyes to rest for a bit. He replays the conversation you just had in his head, wondering why you had been shying away from sharing details with him. He caught onto the way your lips pursed together when you dropped eye contact. He caught onto the way you quietly responded and quickly changed topics. It’s not the first time he’s noticed, but he would never press you, no. On the other hand though, he can’t lie; he wishes you felt more comfortable with him. It all goes back to him wondering what else he can do to gain your trust. What else can he do to feel like a safe space for you? Why was he starting to feel like you were so close, yet so distant?

❊ FLASHBACK

“So, how are you liking town so far?”

“Good. It’s been fun. Nice to get away from the city.”

“That’s cool. I bet it’s nice to get away. Must be a good change from the hustle of the city.” Jungkook chuckles. “I’m sure Y/N has been a good tour guide, too?” He smirks.

“Uh, yeah.” Yeosang shyly laughs. “Yeah..”

“You guys are cute.”

“I don’t really know what this is to tell you honestly.” Jungkook shrugs.

“I know she likes you. A lot.”

“I—” Yeosang lets out a breath. “I like her, too.”

“The hesitation?” Jungkook chuckles and Yeosang shakes his head.

“Oh no. Not like that. I just.. wasn’t expecting it.”

“Isn’t that the best, though? When you least expect it.”

“Yeah.” Yeosang says softly. “Sounds cliché, but she really makes me feel things I haven’t felt before.” Jungkook smiles.

“Cute. So. Do you plan to make this an official thing even with you leaving at the end of the month? Or, do I need to step into my overprotective friend mode?” Yeosang chuckles.

“No. Don’t worry. I’m not like that, I swear. I don’t— I don’t do temporary.” Is all he responds with. “There’s nothing more that I want than to be on a solid page with her. If that’s what she wants.”

“Course. I know she does even if she shies away from it.” Jungkook laughs a bit and does a slight head tilt. “You know, it’s funny. I’ve known that girl for a couple of years and I still feel like I know her but at the same time, I don’t. I just know she’s been through a lot and she moved here from who knows where to start a new chapter for herself.” He turns to Yeo. “Although I do believe you and think you’re genuinely a good guy, please just.. take care of her.” Yeosang nods slowly. He wonders why you haven’t opened up to your friends much, being that they’re people you surround yourself with often. He gets it, though. It took him awhile to really open up to his friends— even now, he doesn’t think there are things he can openly share with Chaerin or Jongho compared to Wooyoung. Still. It makes him feel a little sad that you might feel alone, even in a room full of people. What can he do to be of comfort to you?

“Of course.” Yeosang sits back in his seat, wondering how he could possibly pull this off. Because he does want this, he does. And he’d be willing to make it work, despite the 4 hour distance. He’d come back and forth if he had to, keep up with plans to visit each other and take initiative. It’ll be hard, and it’ll be an adjustment until you two can figure out a better plan. But, he wants you and that’s all that matters to him at this point.

❊ END

Evening comes pretty quickly, especially when you’re distracted by Yeosang through his kisses and his need to be in between your thighs. You eventually finish getting ready post-orgasm, throwing on a cargo skirt, a cropped baby tee and sneakers. Yeosang is in black jeans, a white tee, and combat boots. The two of you start pregaming together until Keeho pulls up to your apartment— Mingi and Mina loudly yelling from their seats from all the excitement. 

The bar is closer to the outskirts of town, and Jungkook chose this bar in particular since the owners had been longtime friends of his family. The bar was also recently remodeled, with more modern and sleek touches, making it easy on the eye. The weather is beautiful tonight, the air crisp and not too cold. The windows are down as Keeho drives down the road along the water, blasting his playlist with everyone singing along. After a good 15 minutes, Keeho pulls into the large lot in front of the bar, carefully navigating into a spot while people are walking across to join the party. The music is muffled, but can be heard booming through the building even from down the road. You lace your fingers with Yeo’s, holding onto his hand tightly as you and your friends walk into the bar. It’s packed already, and you’re having trouble finding Jungkook in the crowd until Mingi spots him in between the bar and DJ.

“He’s over there!” Mingi nods for you all to follow him to the opposite end of the bar. Jungkook is a social butterfly, so he’s got people swarming him left and right. When he finally spots you from over the shoulder of the person he’s talking to, he smiles from ear to ear, raising his glass up.

“About fucking time!”

“Miss Mina needed extra time to get ready.” Keeho laughs. “Who the fuck did you invite?”

“People who invited people who invited more.. people.” Jungkook shrugs. “Yeosang, my guy!” He gives Yeosang a dap, pulling him into a good hug afterwards. “Let’s go take some shots. On me!”

“Oh shit, boss is paying for shots?!” Mingi says excitedly, immediately following him to the bar with Yeosang alongside of him.

“Aye, Y/N. Take my shot for me please. Don’t disappoint me.” You snort at Keeho’s request.

“I got you!” And so with that, everything takes off from here. The three of you participate in taking shots— one turning into three, four? Both you and Yeosang try to pace yourselves though, not wanting to be incredibly drunk and too inebriated to enjoy tonight. But, the shots you’ve taken are enough to get you going; feeling carefree enough to drag Yeosang onto the dance floor and have your alone time with him. It starts incredibly fun and harmless, the two of you genuinely enjoying each other’s company as the different songs blast through the walls of the bar. Your friends join in, the boys rapping along to every song and trying to act cool in front of you, Mina and the other girls surrounding the group. It’s a fun time; you laugh. You joke. You play around. Yeo throws his arm over you from time to time, admires you as you happily dance and sing along. You step out for a few water and bathroom breaks in between, and eventually, you and your friends are separated and spread across the room. Mingi, Keeho and Jungkook are finding themselves a few pretty girls to hang out with, while Mina is flirting away with one of the bartenders. You and Yeosang find yourselves falling deeper into the crowd, now in your own little world where you’re surrounded by strangers, but are focused on each other and each other only. At some point, you get pushed to the corner near the window from how packed the room has gotten over time. You don’t mind it though, because now, the energy between you and Yeosang has flipped to something more intense. More tension. More need. More desire. You’ve been dancing all up on him for the past hour or so, and he’s been enjoying every minute of it. 

He sits on the window sill, hands gripping on the edges with his legs spread— enough to make room for you in between, giving him the best view of you bending over and working your ass against him. He subtly bites onto his bottom lip when you get him at the best angles, his hand slowly snaking up to your hip to help guide you and keep up with the rhythm. You bring yourself up as you continue to dance on him, looking back to see the dazed expression on his face. You giggle a bit just as the song transitions into another, letting Yeosang wrap his arms around you and hold you close.

“Killing me.” He says in your ear, large hands resting on your thighs; if he travels any further, he’ll be right where you need him.

“Are you having fun?” You turn to him, arms wrapped around his neck. 

“Yeah, I am.” He gently squeezes at the back of your thighs, right beneath your ass. “Why, are you?”

“Yeah, but I kinda wanna get outta here.” Your eyes shift from his, down to his lips— back up to his brown orbs. He subtly bites onto his bottom lip and nods, face only inches away from yours. If he wasn’t mistaken, he sees the look in your eyes, and it’s on the same wavelength as his. He just needs to get you home, quick.

“Whatever you wanna do, love.” You giggle, finding the courage to plant a kiss on his lips. He doesn’t pull away though, no. He deepens the kiss, letting out a shaky exhale in between.

He’s having trouble composing himself and he’s afraid he won’t be able to anymore when he gets you alone.

“Let’s go.” You break away from the heated kiss, lips puffy from the contact. You grab his hand and navigate through the crowd, bidding Jungkook, Keeho and Mingi farewell as you two slip out of the party with ease. 

As you work to call a taxi, Yeosang instantly latches onto you— hands gripping at your waist from behind while he plants kisses along your jaw, neck. When the taxi finally comes, you slip in with a giggle, aching from the distance in the back seat of the car. Yeosang can’t take his eyes off of you, bringing a hand to your thigh to keep you close, to let you know how badly he wants you tonight.

Even when you finally arrive at your studio, Yeosang gives you some distance to fiddle through your keys and finally unlock the door. He should be given a gold medal for how cool and composed he’s keeping himself.

That is, until the door shuts.

You let out a squeal when you feel Yeosang tug on your wrist, pulling you against him to kiss you. The kiss is deep, and everything feels like it’s laid out on the table. No holding back, no restraints.

“Need you so badly.” He says in between his strong kisses, holding you closely by the waist while you wrap your arms around his neck. He slowly backs you towards the bed and pushes up against you, feeling how hard he is even through his jeans.

“You have me.”

“Are you sure about this? Do you have a condom?”

“I am.” You nod. “I am. More than sure. I’m on the pill.” You tug at the hem of his shirt. 

Sooner or later, clothes are being ripped off and tossed into every corner of the studio. You find yourself underneath Yeosang, biting onto your bottom lip when he pulls out his pretty cock and pumps himself a few times. He takes the tip and runs it down your folds, edging the tip right at your clit a few times to tease you. You let out a small whimper while Yeosang lets out a breathy moan.

“Sangie.” You beg, pleading through your look, for him to go further. He bites onto his bottom lip this time, smirking as he watches your face contort in pleasure when he slowly sinks himself into you. “Oh my god.” The stretch feels so, so good; Yeosang moving at a steady pace as he keeps your legs cocked open for him. He lets out a breath while rocking into you, shutting his eyes when he sees you beautifully laid out beneath him just to keep his composure for a second. 

“Fuck, you’re so tight. Wrap around me so well—” He barely finishes his sentence before he’s letting out a moan, enjoying the way you feel way too much. His body comes down to hover over yours slightly; just enough to hold his own weight but keep close to you. You moan into his mouth when he picks up the pace, thrusting into you a little rougher than the last time. But every single thrust, move, kiss is full of feeling, emotion. Full of lust. Desire. Passion.

“Oh shit.” Your moans are louder this time, echoing over the walls and surely blending into your neighbor’s. 

“Want you—” Yeosang whispers in your ear as he continues to thrust deep inside of you, letting you feel every inch of his length in all the right places. “Want you to be mine.” He gives off a breathy moan, biting onto your jaw, gently sucking onto your neck.

“I am yours.” You breathe out. 

“Yeah?” He sits back a bit, thumb now coming to your clit to continue pushing you over the edge. “Say it again, baby.”

“I’m yours.” 

“Louder.” He growls.

“I’m yours!” You mewl, hand grabbing at your tit while Yeosang fucks into you roughly; clit aching and coil threatening to snap. 

“That’s it.” He coos. “So good for me.” And it only takes a few more snaps of his hip, thumb still playing with your sensitive nub before you unravel underneath him. You cry in pleasure, body trembling as your orgasm washes over your body. “Can you ride me, princess? Wanna see you ride me.” He hisses, trying to keep himself together as you continue to feel the after-shocks of your orgasm, walls still squeezing him tightly. You oblige, switching positions and instantly sliding down his length. He lets out a loud groan, head falling back against the wall with hooded lids while he adjusts to the feeling. You waste no time finding a good pace, rocking back and forth on his cock— clit still feeling sensitive from your first orgasm. 

“Yeosang, fuck. Feel so full.”

“God damn.” He lets out another breathy moan, hands coming to your hips to guide you. “Just like that.” You pick up your pace, switching between bouncing on his dick to rolling your hips slowly, deeply. “Baby— close—” He pants, unable to compose himself any further. The friction against your clit feels too good that you find your second orgasm bubbling quickly, only taking a few more rolls against Yeosang for you to tip over the edge again. You still in your position while trembling in his grip, and Yeosang fucks up into you to chase his own high shortly afterwards. He releases his load into you, painting your walls white with his seed. You fall forward, lazily kissing him as you both try to bring yourselves back down from cloud nine and regulate your breathing. Yeosang coos you, hands coming up to rub your back and your sides while pressing gentle kisses to your skin. He praises you, telling you how well you did and how perfect you are for him. He gives you one last deep kiss before leading you into the bathroom to get washed up and cleaned up for bed. It’s a quick, sweet shower together; washing off the sweat from tonight’s activities before finishing up your bedtime routine and tossing new sheets onto the bed. 

You’ll get to the laundry tomorrow.

Yeosang pulls you onto your chest and cuddles you to sleep, humming along to the song now playing through your bluetooth speakers. It doesn’t take too long for Yeo to fall asleep after you, the exhaustion from tonight hitting him quickly. When morning comes, it’s a lot earlier than Yeosang expects. He was the last to fall asleep, but the first to wake, and he can thank his hard ass dick for that. He tries to shift in his position without waking you, but it’s no use. You’re tucked under his chin nicely while clinging onto him, pressed up to his body as closely as possible. The events from last night keep replaying in his head like a film strip. Now, he’s just fucking horny.

He squeezes at your hip before pressing kisses to your face, his gentle way of waking you up and showing his need. You begin to stir a bit when Yeosang whispers in your ear and tries to wake you up completely. He still has you wrapped in his arms, tucked underneath his chin. “Baby.” He whispers as he continues to softly kiss you on every place possible.

“Mhm?” Your eyes flutter open, and you catch on quick. Yeosang’s hands are roaming all over your sides, his hard dick pressed up against you to feel any friction. 

“I’m so hard.” He almost whines into your ear and it’s enough to get you going. “Want you right now.”

“You have me.”

“Yeah?” He gently nibbles on your earlobes, hand trailing down under his shirt you’re wearing to toy with your panties. “Is it okay if I do this, then?” He rubs at your clit through the material of your panties, feeling the wet patch already seeping through.

“Mhm.” You hum as Yeosang dips down to kiss you, thumb still caressing at your nub. It’s when the kiss deepens that he roughly tugs your panties off and does the same with his own boxer briefs. He doesn’t waste any time to position you right where he needs you; getting you to slightly lift your leg so he can slip in at the right angle. It happens quick, bearing in mind that you’re already wet and going from the way he had woken you up earlier. 

“God, you always feel too good.” He mutters against your lips. His hand holds up your leg as he continues to rock into you; back and forth. It’s slow and steady before he picks it up, cock hitting you in all the best spots from this position. 

“Shit, Sangie— fuck.” You whimper, hips lightly moving to match his rhythm. He lets out a loud groan when you start to do so, the feeling of your walls squeezing against him making it incredibly hard to last. You kiss him once more, lips lazily grazing over his jaw and neck. He hisses when he feels you messily kiss at the base of his neck and suck on the surface.

“You keep moving like that, I won’t last.” He huffs, beginning to rock into you at a rougher pace. The only sounds filling the room at this point are nothing short of pornographic; skin slapping against skin, loud moans and heavy breathing. “I’m close, baby. Cum with me.” You feel yourself tipping over the edge the more he begins to fuck into you at this position, only taking a few more thrusts before you’re yelling his name and digging your nails into his bicep from how hard it hits you; Yeosang reaching his own climax shortly after. 

“Kang Yeosang.” You breathe out, his lip lazily grazing your forehead.

“Mm, I like it when you call my name like that.”

“Shut up.” You laugh. “Guess no more sleep for us.”

“I mean, we can. We can just repeat the whole process entirely. I’m down for it.”

“You’re so full of shit.” You laugh, dragging him to the bathroom. “Let’s get up.” You drag him to wash up and get ready for the day, throwing on some high waisted shorts and a cropped tank top to match today’s heat. Yeosang’s ass decides to walk around shirtless and in sweats he had brought over, letting them hang on his hips so damn lowly.

“I have to do so much laundry, thanks to you.” Yeo laughs before taking a sip of water, still standing shirtless in your kitchen.

“Baby.” You hum in response as you load your laundry. “Let’s go on that bike ride you’ve been wanting to do after you’re done.”

“Really?” You smile and he nods.

“Mhm. Then we can go out to eat before cozying up tonight.”

“You’re the best.” You get the laundry going before jumping on him and giving him a kiss.

“Wanna go another round?”

“I hate you.” You laugh when Yeo smothers you in kisses, dropping you onto the bed to let him take care of you yet again. He can’t get enough of you.

You finally get to finishing and folding your laundry, all while Yeosang whips up some lunch and sets it on the coffee table for you two to enjoy. After, you take that bike ride with Yeosang down the coast; letting the breeze hit you as you bike down a good 2-3 miles before hopping off and taking pictures together. You take him to a good bbq spot nearby, drinking and feeding each other while enjoying deep conversations together. No topic ever feels dumb or silly around Yeosang, and you’re grateful he happily participates in the conversation regardless of what it is. The both of you laugh loudly and smile the entire time, enjoying each other’s sweet company as you’ve learned to do over these few weeks. It’s easy to admit that Yeosang has become your favorite person, and the best part of your days are now the ones spent with him. You’re positive there’s nothing else that comes close. Nothing. And as much as that makes you happy, it’s the same thing that terrifies you the most.

You hate thinking about it, but your time with Yeosang is coming to an end. He’d have his last few days before he’s heading back to the city, back to the life he’s used to living. Back to life without you? Because let’s face it— even if he wanted to continue your relationship, it wouldn’t feel the same as having him next to you every day. With the time left, you’re torn between making the most of it, or being torn up over it.

“Baby.” Yeosang tugs on your hand as he continues to lock his fingers with yours, trying his best to grab your attention.

“Huh?” He chuckles.

“Can hear you thinking.” You look down and kick at the rocks beneath your feet.

“You already know what it is.” He lets out a breath before he pauses in his steps, pulling you towards him. He brushes your hair back and gently lifts your chin; his touches all soft, tender.

“Hey. I know it’s easier said than done, but I really don’t want you to worry. As long as you’re willing to work with me through it, then we’ll be good.” He gives you a reassuring smile. “Okay? You’re in this with me, right?” You nod.

“But, Sangie—”

“No but’s.” He laughs when you whine about him not letting you finish your sentence. “Okay, okay. What is it?”

“Will you forget me?” Yeosang’s forehead pinches ever so slightly at the question, head tilting to the side as he reads into it. He can tell there’s sadness swirling in those beautiful eyes of yours, a forced smile creeping at the corner of your lips to downplay the sadness behind it. It breaks his heart that you’d even think that way, so he can’t help but cup your cheek and gently caress the surface.

“Why would you think that, baby? I would never.” He responds softly. “You know how much I want this, right? Despite the distance. Nothing about that will change.”

“Okay.” You respond softly. He lets out a small sigh before planting a kiss on your forehead and pulling you in for a tight hug. 

“We’re gonna be okay. As long as you’re with me.”

“I am.” You don’t even realize how pained and choked up you sound when you let the statement fall from your lips; it’s not that you were unsure about Yeosang. You could never be. Yeosang had to be the greatest blessing you have ever been granted with in this fucked up world. An unexpected blessing you weren’t even sure you deserved. How? You were unsure about yourself. How could you be the girl he needs, he deserves, if everyone else deemed you unworthy and useless?

“Then it’ll be fine.” He takes you to the sand and plops down onto the sand, asking for your hand as a way to ask you to join him. You sit next to him, holding onto his arm and resting your head on his shoulder as you look out to the ocean.

“Aren’t you gonna miss it?”

“I will. I’ll miss a lot of things.”

“Like what?” He smirks.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” You whine a bit and pout, causing Yeosang to subtly bite onto his bottom lip to prevent himself from smiling too big.

“Yeosang.” You pout.

“I’ll miss you the most.” He presses a light kiss to the top of your head. “Here. Why don’t we plan something for the next time we see each other?” He shifts in his position to look at you a little better. “Wanna come to me in the city? You can stay at my place and you can meet my friends.” 

“Okay.” You giggle. “I can ask Jungkook for time off in the next 3 weeks or so?”

“Mhm.” He nods. “Just let me know what date works and I’ll clear everything out for you, love.” You smile and lean back onto his arm.

“Okay. And then?”

“Then, the next time, I’ll come down here. We can go back and forth until we figure out a better plan in the long term. Sound good?”

“Yeah, it does.”

“I know it sounds tiring right now, but I hope you know I’m willing to do it for you. No questions asked.” You continue to silently listen to the waves crashing against the sand in front of you. “I’ll do anything for you, Y/N. You made everything about coming here worth it.”

“I hope so.”

“You’re mine, yeah?” He asks and you nod against him before kissing him on the cheek. That night, Keeho, Mingi, Jungkook and Mina join for a tiny bonfire, a last hurrah of some sort for Yeo. You laugh seeing him enjoy one of his last moments with the boys, downing beers and singing along to the songs playing on Keeho’s mini bluetooth speakers. From time to time, Yeosang would dedicate his singing to you, playfully hug you from behind and try to smother your face in kisses. You and Mina took charge of snapping a few photos before taking a walk near the water, leaving the boys to trail behind as they fuck around and continue to loudly sing at the top of their lungs.

“So, what are you gonna do when Yeosang goes back? Did you two plan anything?” You nod as you continue to look at the sand beneath you.

“Yeah. I’m gonna ask Jungkook if I can take some time off to visit him.”

“That’s good.” She playfully nudges you. “He’s so sweet, Y/N. He really adores you, it’s so obvious how much he does. I’m glad his vacation brought you two together.”

“Yeah, unexpected things can be good, huh?” She laughs.

“Do you love him?”

“Is it too early to say so?” She shakes her head.

“Never. I think when two people instantly connect and build a connection like that, there is no such thing as too early.” You shrug.

“I just hope I can keep being good for him, you know? Can’t help but think about it. Our distance. Us being apart.”

“You’re good for each other. I can see it.” You shrug.

“He’s too good for me.”

“Stop it. Don’t start getting into your head, okay? He genuinely cares about you.”

“Yeah, I know.” You look at her with a small smile even though your head is already swirling with a million uncertainties— ones she won’t ever know about. “Gonna miss him a lot.”

“You two will get through this and make it work.” You gently bump arms with hers.

“Hope so.” 

“Baby!” Yeosang yells drunkly, coming to hug you from behind. “Baby.” He repeats against your head, giving you a sweet kiss to the cheek.

“Mhm?”

“I really, really like you.” He says near your ear. “You m-make me so happy. Like.. so fucking happy. I didn’t even expect it and truthfully, I kept telling myself I shouldn’t.” He goes on, making Mina giggle as she slowly steps back and lets you two have your space. “B-but I’m glad I just said fuck it because I—” He dips down to look at you in pure adoration and love. “You’re so pretty. God, you’re so pretty. I feel so fucking lucky.” 

“You’re drunk, Sangie.” You laugh and he hugs you tighter from behind, causing you to pause in your steps and sink into his hug a little more.

“Will not confirm nor deny.” You snort. “But, I still mean everything.”

“You’ve been too good to me. What did I do to deserve it?” You ask softly as you lean into his hug, the question mainly meant to stay in your head. Too late now, though.

“You didn’t have to do anything, love.” He snuggles against your neck and gently places a kiss on the surface. “You’re mine.”

“I am.” You bite onto your bottom lip before kissing his hand, unraveling yourself from his arms to hold his hand and walk alongside of him. Sooner or later, the boys decide they’re crashing from the beer and find it a good point to call it a night. They all give Yeosang a big hug before parting, Mina making sure they all make it home in one piece.

Though Yeosang is drunk, he’s able to walk to your apartment without making too much chaos. You find it incredibly endearing how clingy he seems to get while intoxicated, not able to keep his hands off of you the entire time walk home. Not that you were complaining or anything. It’s crazy because he can pick up on the mood shift, the change in the air, when you walk into the apartment. He can tell there’s something else in your eyes, in your look, your touch. You’re not sad, but you aren’t the happiest either. Quite frankly, you’re not sure how to pinpoint the exact feeling, but you’re finding the need to really make use of your time left with Yeosang. For the rest of the night, you just want to be with him. To kiss every inch, to keep him close. To love on him. You don’t say much as you continue to walk into your studio, quietly grabbing your pajamas before heading to the bathroom and asking Yeosang to join you for a quick shower. His eyes are still glazed over and slightly red, but he joins you anyway— undressing and tossing his clothes aside before stepping into the hot shower. 

Everything about the shower from start to finish is intimate; Yeosang starts off by helping shampoo and condition your hair, long fingers massaging deep into your scalp. You do the same with him, running your hands through his hair as you wash off the product, letting the water cascade down his features. The entire time, Yeosang tightens his grip on your hips, keeping you close even as you wash him off. He doesn’t waste a minute to kiss you, tongue lining your bottom lip as a subtle way to ask for permission— to take this further. As the kiss deepens, you gently tug on the hair resting on the nape of his neck, letting out small moans when you feel Yeosang’s hard length pressed against you. No words are exchanged, but both you and Yeosang transmitted every thought, every feeling, every ounce of pleasure, through your touches, your kisses. He gently backs you to the wall, lifting your leg up and holding it against him— careful not to break the kiss as he finds the perfect angle to tease your slit with his tip and slip himself inside of you. You moan into his mouth when he eases in, the stretch feeling so, so good under the running water.

“God, fuck.” Yeosang moans as he continues to thrust up into you, keeping a slow and steady pace. “So tight for me.”

“Keep going. Please.” You continue to plead for more, and who was Yeosang to deny you of that? He plunges deeper and gets a lil rougher, your back feeling the slight burn from the contact of the cold wall. Your moans are louder this time around, Yeosang continuing to pound into you to bring you to your high.

“I’ll give you everything.” He groans. “Wanna give you the world, baby.” He nibbles onto your earlobe, gently nibbling at your jaw, neck. You tug on the ends of his hair, slowly moving your hips to work with his rhythm. “Cum for me, hm?” He hums, free hand coming down to massage at your sensitive nub. His thumb works in deep, circular motions— at the perfect pace he knows you respond well to. You whine and beg for Yeosang to keep going, spilling out lewd noises as his cock hits you in all the right places, finally pushing you over the edge after a few more thrusts. Your moans echo and bounce off the bathroom walls, whimpering when he chases his own high. His movements become a little sloppy with the force he’s exerting, his own coil snapping within him not too long after you. He coats your walls, muffling his moans against your neck as he gives you every last drop;

Giving you every last bit of him.

“That was nice.” You tease with a giggle before giving him another sweet kiss to the lips.

“It was. We should definitely get cleaned up now.” You nod, letting Yeosang lather you up in some body wash in between kisses before you repeat the same on him. 

When you both finally step out of the shower and finish getting ready for bed, you immediately tuck yourself into Yeosang’s arms, indulging in his warmth and scent. You wish you could pause time and keep it here forever— in the warmest, safest spot you know. And Yeosang feels the same way, too. He wants to repeat the night over and over again, especially when he finds himself yearning for another round just to show you how much you nean to him; laying kisses all over your face, body, before he gets you on all fours and fucks into you like no tomorrow. Especially when you’re so, so good to him, begging and moaning his name like a mantra with every thrust. Especially when you submit to him and give him everything he asks of you. Especially when you tuck yourself into his arms again post-orgasm and cling onto him.

He softly sings a song as he watches you fall into sleep, brushing the hair away from your face to lay a kiss on your forehead. When he looks at you, everything feels right again. When he looks at you, he feels like he’s holding the universe in his arms, has the brightest stars swirling in his orbit. When he looks at you, he sees love. It’s the kind of love he’s never really felt before. One that just feels right, like it’s meant to be. Like he just knows.

“Goodnight, baby.” He whispers against your skin before pulling you closer and shutting his eyes, not wanting to spend a minute away from you.

The last morning comes, and you wish it hadn’t. But the day is here, and you’re forced to face it regardless if you like it or not. You weren’t sure where this would lead you, but now that you’re having to face it. You’re sad, and you’re wanting to hide. Even if Yeosang never had plans to hurt you in the first place. You know he could never hurt a soul; yet, it still didn’t stop you from having those thoughts, from overthinking, from letting your past run your present. The only thing you felt like you were good at at this point was running— running away as far as possible from problems and potential heartbreak.

Luckily, you’re alone this morning and you can cry about it. Yeosang left you alone to go on a run and it’s the perfect time to fucking cry over all of this. You cry about it without Yeosang having to know, you cry about it without any worry that he’d see you. Because you needed to. You needed to cry about it, and you needed to let your feelings out. You were gonna hate this. You were gonna be so sad without him. You might even feel a little regret for having fallen for someone who wasn’t meant to stick around. What if you couldn’t be it for him? What if he realized he couldn’t do this with you? What if he realized you weren’t worth it? What if you just couldn’t be the girl who could take care of him and treat him well in this distance? It all feels so sickening and so, so awful. You should’ve known that maybe, you just weren’t ready to face it. To face this. To be.. this.

You sob into your hands when every negative thought, every overbearing insecurity starts to fill your head— telling you this, telling you that. You weren’t sure what to do from here, and you weren’t sure how things would actually go with Yeosang being gone. It’s not that you didn’t have faith in him. You didn’t have faith in yourself, in your ability to be what Yeosang needed, to provide the love he so absolutely deserved. You didn’t know.

When you’ve cried all that you have left in you, you quickly pad to his bathroom and wash up— making sure to add a little cream to your extra sensitive spots around the eyes to help cover up the fact that you had been crying all morning. You change into the clothes you arrived in last night, cleaning around Yeosang’s studio and making his bed. You whip up a good breakfast, plating the food just as he walks through the door in his loose muscle tank and shorts; face still gleaming with sweat.

“Hey.” He quickly pecks you on the cheek, smiling at the breakfast you made. “Yum.” You giggle. “Let me go shower real quick and I’ll join you, okay? Thank you for the food.” He kisses you on the lips, smiling into the kiss before squeezing your ass and walking off to the bathroom.

Despite the crying, nothing else felt off that morning. At least, Yeosang didn’t pick up on anything, and he certainly couldn’t tell you had been crying while he was out. Though, he does pick up on how much sadder you look, and how much quieter you’ve been today compared to the rest of his time here. It does feel different, but pairing it with the circumstances, it wasn’t entirely unusual. After breakfast, you clean up the dishes and help Yeosang pack up all his things. It’s taking everything in you not to cry again, your heart shattering to pieces at the uncertainty you feel. Yeosang will never know, though. Cause as long as he’s still here, you’ll make sure he spends his time wisely so that he’s returning happy. Rested. Content. Complete. That’s all that matters right now.

You and Yeo take a quick walk to the convenience store to grab him some food for the road, Yeosang saying his goodbyes to the people he’s met and run into. You wish he could stay, maybe it would be easier. But, you’d never be that selfish to make him choose. He shouldn’t have to choose.

“Baby.” Yeosang calls for you, tugging you by the hand and pulling you close.

“Hm?” You hum while he brushes your hair back.

“You okay?” You pout a bit, but you shake your head.

“I will be.” He can see the tears welling in your eyes and he sucks on his teeth before hugging you tightly and pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“We’ll be okay.” He says softly. “Remember? We’re going to visit each other and I’ll come back here as soon as I can. It’s nothing a quick trip into town can’t fix.”

“I know. But, I’m just gonna miss you. A lot.”

“I’ll miss you, too. It’ll come before you know it.” You don’t respond because you’re not sure what else you can say at this point. You’re heartbroken and sad, and there’s nothing that can mask the feelings you’re experiencing at this moment.

Even the ride to the train station is quiet. You’ve opted to look out the window the entire time while holding his hand tightly. Jungkook lets you and Mingi stroll into work a little later today to tend to Yeosang, so Mingi’s in the driver’s seat. He chimes in a few times here and there, but otherwise, he keeps to himself. He does it because the few times he’s looked in the rear view mirror, he can hear you thinking. He can see the internal battle that’s going on, he can see you fighting yourself to stay collected. When on the inside, he knows you’ve already fallen apart.

“You have to come back, alright? We’ll miss you. We’ll wait for you to visit again.” Mingi says, pulling Yeosang into a hug before patting his back a few times and helping him with his luggage. Mingi steps away to give you two your moment, and all you do is throw your arms around Yeosang tightly. He whispers how much you mean to him and how much he’ll miss you against your head, telling you that he’ll wait for you to come to him and that he’ll always choose you. You look up at him and finally give him a few pecks to the lips, taking in every last bit of him before he goes.

“I love you.” He says lowly, and it makes you feel excited and sad at the same time to hear the words come out of his mouth.

“I love you, too.” You stick a few extra polaroids you’ve taken of him, the town, your friends and the both of you together in his jacket pocket before wrapping your arms around him tightly. It’s a hug that feels like the last time, and it shatters your heart into a million pieces knowing you won’t be able to do this tomorrow, and the next day, and the next. He leaves you with one last deep, passionate kiss. 

When his figure disappears into the station, you break down in Mingi’s arms, and he’s having to hold you, console you, for a good couple of minutes. He tries his best to coo you and calm you down, but he knows there’s nothing he can say or do to make this better at the moment. As much as he’d like to block you and save you from your own thoughts, he can’t. But, he holds you and holds you because it’s the best thing he can do as your friend right now.

“You’ll see him soon, things will fall into place again. Let’s get you home.” You quietly oblige, continuing to cry silently in the passenger’s seat once Mingi takes off and brings you home.

Yeosang hates it. He looks out the window of the train, watching the town drift away behind him. He feels his own tears pricking his bottom lids and he can’t help but quickly wipe away at it when the town gets further and further away. Separating from you was the worst thing he’s felt in awhile, even though he’ll see you soon. It’s just hard to have to go about his days without seeing you like he used to. It’ll be a big fucking adjustment.

He texts you during his train ride, checking in on you and making sure you’re okay. You don’t text him too quickly, and he suspects it’s because you’re having a hard time yourself. You do eventually respond though, and it puts a smile on his face that you still seem to be the same despite the circumstances.

“Look who’s back!” Wooyoung, Jongho and Chaerin stand there to welcome him back. He smiles at them, giving them all a big hug. It’s a big source of comfort for him right now.

“So, how was your trip?! Heard you were having a good ass time.” Jongho teases from the back seat, squeezing Yeosang’s shoulders. 

“We missed you.” Chaerin adds.

“I didn’t. I think that was just you.” Wooyoung teases and she flips him off.

“Fuck off Wooyoung.”

“I missed you guys, too. It was fun, though.”

“Tell us about Y/N.” Wooyoung smirks from the driver’s seat. “Do we get to meet her?”

“Yeah, maybe.” Yeosang smiles to himself at the thought of you before diving into the details of everything he’s done in town, all the people he met, Keeho, Mina, Jungkook and Mingi. They all grab dinner at a sushi spot in town, now giving Yeosang updates about what’s been going on at work and in their lives over the past month. Chaerin keeps close to him even though she’s torn about her feelings right now. Of course, she’s happy that Yeosang is happy. It’s all she wants. But, she won’t lie and say she’s okay because she’s not. Right now, she’ll push her feelings aside and welcome him home because she is glad to have him back. She knows he needs his friend more than anything. Overall, it’s a good dinner, and he’s happy to be back with his friends.

Afterwards, Wooyoung takes everyone home, bidding Yeosang farewell and telling him to sleep well before his first day back tomorrow. Yeosang lets out a sigh when he kicks off his shoes and sets his things aside. He immediately gets to showering before unpacking, neatly folding his clothes back into his closet unless he’s tossing them into his hamper. He looks around his empty apartment, grabbing a cold glass of water to drink before shutting off the lights. Settling at home feels.. weird, to say the least. Home is still home, and he finds comfort in that. But, home doesn’t feel as complete without you. 

He pads over to his room and finishes tidying up the last bit of his things before getting his clothes ready for tomorrow. He digs into his jacket hanging on his chair, pulling out the shell you gifted him earlier in the month and the polaroids you stuck into his pocket. He sets them down on the nightstand next to his bed, smiling to himself when he quickly flips through them. It’ll be a nice ‘lil reminder when he needs it the most, so he keeps it there. When he settles in bed, he grabs his phone to read your latest texts. He gets distracted and smiles when he sees your picture as his lockscreen, his numbers finding his way to your contact information and pressing the call button.

“Hey you.” He bites his lip hearing your voice on the other line.

“Hey baby.”

“Finished with your dinner?”

“Mhm. It was nice.”

“You tipsy, huh?” You giggle and it makes him crack an even bigger smile.

“Kinda, yeah. I miss you, pretty.”

“I miss you too, Sangie. I’m glad dinner was good. I’m sure your friends are happy to have you back.”

“Mm, they’re okay. How’s everything there?”

“Good. I just got home not too long ago from the restaurant. Trying to keep myself as busy as possible.” He lets out a breath, throwing his hand behind his head.

“I get that.”

“You ready to head back to work tomorrow?”

“Sheesh, hell no.” He laughs. “But, it was a good month away so I can’t really complain.”

“It’ll be fine, love.” You say softly and Yeosang’s heart soars; he can almost feel his heart ready to burst out of his chest.

“Mmyeah.”

“You should go to sleep.”

“Only if you come with.” You laugh. 

“Well, I am in bed. Can we fall asleep on the phone together?”

“Of course. I’ll probably be up early, though.”

“That’s fine. I know you’ll hang up and leave me for work.”

“Baby.” Yeosang kinda whines and you laugh a little louder.

“Kidding. I know, I know.”

“I can’t wait until I see you already.” Yeosang says sleepily, turning to his side as he plugs his phone into the charger.

“Same.”

“Damn.” Yeosang groans a bit, eyes getting heavy. “Fucking hate sleeping without you.”

“Go to sleep, tipsy.”

“I love you, Y/N.” You pause, swallowing the lump in your throat as you let his words marinate.

“I love you, too.” You respond, barely above a whisper. “Sleep well, Yeosang.”

The first day Yeosang steps back into the office, he’s greeted by a couple of people that are happy to have him back. Everyone compliments on the glow he’s sporting and how happy and refreshed he seems to be. He can’t help but shyly laugh about it, a red tint coloring his cheeks when he tells them he’s had a good time and that he might’ve met someone really special there. He sets his things down onto his desk, fixing up a few things before he heads towards the kitchen with his mug in hand. There are a few interns sitting in one of the main conference rooms, and Yeosang is able to get a good look at them on his way to the kitchen. They all look fairly young, as if they had just graduated. One sits at the far corner in a loose grey button up shirt tucked into his slacks, black frames sitting on his face. He gives Yeosang a tight-lipped smile when they accidentally make contact, making Yeosang give him a curt nod in response. 

“Hella interns.” Wooyoung throws his arm around Yeosang as they continue to walk to the kitchen. 

“Do we have one?”

“No. I think most of them are in R&D. Operations. A select few in marketing and media.”

“Cool.”

“So, when exactly are we going to meet Y/N?”

“She’s gonna come down in a few weeks.” He glares at Woo. “When she does, please don’t be all up in her space.” 

“Why not?” Woo laughs loudly. “I’m sure we’ll get along fine.” He smiles widely at his bestfriend. “Fucking champ, look at you. Not only did you get some, but you also got a girlfriend out of it.” Yeo nudges him in the chest as he grabs a cup of coffee.

“The hell is wrong with you, seriously.”

“She’s cute.” Wooyoung smiles as he picks up Yeosang’s phone resting on the counter. “Is Mina single?” Yeosang snatches the phone out of his grip and rolls his eyes.

As for the rest of the day, it goes by as normally as possible. Yeosang falls back into his routine quickly; the only change now being that he’s carved out time to talk to you on the phone or facetime you. All the things he does in a day, he does it with you in mind— he takes pictures to send to you and vice versa, he thinks of little things he can buy for you and surprise you with later. He cooks himself a good meal or two he imagines you’d like. So despite falling back into his usual routine, it’s more exciting this time around because he has you.

Over the days, weeks, leading up to the day he’d see you again, you were good about answering his calls and his texts. You’d send him pictures of yourself, or with your friends and he’d do the same. Sometimes, you’d send him the nastiest nudes and he wouldn’t know how to act, spending some hours late at night having phone sex with you, yearning for every inch of you. Everything made it easier to cope with the distance; every conversation feeling like the first. 

But as time got closer to the day you’d come down to visit him, you’d gotten busier. He didn’t think much of it, knowing you were always so cooped up at the restaurant or shelter. It did make him sad, especially when it’d be hours on end and he’d barely hear from you, or when you’d tell him you were too tired to talk for long. Still, Yeosang didn’t think anything was wrong. He couldn’t think anything was wrong because there wasn’t any telling sign that could point to a particular problem besides you being tired. He trusted you, though. He remained patient. Now that he thinks about it, maybe he shouldn’t have, maybe he should’ve pressed a little harder to keep your attention. Yeosang wishes he can rewind time— rewind time to when things felt perfect, when things felt so good and so new. So fresh. So beautiful. Especially when the day comes that he gets to see you again. Or so, he thought.

He wakes up to a rather early ‘goodmorning’ text from you, but that’s all there is to it. He sends a quick ‘can’t wait to see you’ in response before scrambling to get up and get ready for work. Despite being a few minutes late, he’s still happily walking around the office. He greets a few people goodmorning, which is a bit out of character for him, but he smiles it off anyway. Grabs his usual cup of coffee while running into a few of the new interns and carries on with his day.

“Is she coming?!” Jongho pops up at Yeosang’s desk while he’s deep into his pile of work, trying to get it all knocked out of the way so he can stroll up out of here sooner than later.

“Mhm! She should be on the way.”

“Dude, fuck work? Get outta here and get ready to see your girl.” Yeosang shakes his head and laughs. “You should’ve called in sick.”

“Yeah, cause they’d definitely let me do that after taking a whole month off.” Yeosang sighs. “All good, I’m almost done here anyway.”

“What’re you gonna do tonight?”

“Take her out for dinner, maybe catch a movie at the theater?”

“Cute. How long is she gonna stay for?”

“A week?”

“Then you’ll go back to see her a few weeks after?” Yeosang nods. “Damn. What about later on in the future? Have you guys discussed that far?” 

“No. But, we will. We’ll figure it out.”

“Let’s plan dinner with her tomorrow or something. Definitely before she leaves.” Yeo nods.

“Yeah, I’ll let her know. She said she really wants to meet you guys.”

“Never seen you this sappy before. Shit is crazy.” Jongho teases before Yeo playfully throws punches his way that he blocks.

Once Yeosang finishes up with work, he waves to his friends and hurries out of the building to make it to the flower shop before it closes.  He grabs a fresh, colorful bouquet, bringing it to his nose before smiling contently— imagining that pretty smile of yours, hearing that cute giggle of yours ringing in the air. 

It had been too long, and Yeosang couldn’t wait to have you back in his arms.

He checks his watch and realizes he’ll be running a few minutes late if he doesn’t hurry and book it to the meeting spot you two had agreed on earlier in the week. He quickly sends you a text to let you know he’s on his way to the spot and shoves his phone into his pocket without giving it a second look. Yeosang picked a spot that wasn’t entirely far from work and right next to a restaurant he made reservations for tonight. At the end of the bridge that joins two streets together, he’d hopefully find you there.

❊ FLASHBACK

“Did you get the link I just sent you?” Yeosang asks on the phone, and you pull up the address to the restaurant he forwarded.

“Mhm! I should go here?”

“Tell the taxi to drop you off across the street, there’s a passenger drop-off area. The restaurant is on the other side of the bridge. I’ll be there.”

“Okay.

“I’m sorry I can’t pick you up at the station, love.” He says defeatedly. “I’m just getting out of work at that time.”

“That’s okay, I can make my way around like a big girl.” You laugh. 

“Can’t wait to kiss you and hold you again.”

“I can’t wait either.”

❊ END

He gets there and he’s half-relieved you haven’t arrived yet, or else he would’ve felt terrible for making you wait. He brushes himself off a bit, holding the bouquet close to his chest while he waits; scanning the surroundings for any sign of you. Everytime he catches sight of a taxi dropping off passengers across the street, he holds his breath; both nervous and excited to see your face after weeks of seeing you solely over the phone. But, nothing.

He looks down at his watch and realizes 15 minutes have passed, and they have been the longest 15 minutes he’s known to ever endure. He’s slightly worried as to why you haven’t arrived yet, dumbing it down to the fact that maybe your train was late. Or, that there was a ton of traffic on the way over [since it is rush hour time]. He waits. And he waits. 

15 minutes turns into 30, and Yeosang finds himself sitting on a bench when it nears 45 minutes. The little light of hope he once had was quickly diminishing; his heart breaking, crumbling to pieces. Those sharp edges cutting into him deep, making him feel sick to his stomach as he sets the bouquet down on the floor when it reaches the hour mark. You weren’t here. You weren’t ever going to be here.

Even though he continues to wait, pulling his phone in and out of his pocket to check if he somehow missed you, missed a call, a text. It’s then that he realizes the text never even went through, that your number was no longer a blue bubble, but green. He feels his hands trembling, lips releasing a shaky breath he had been holding onto; the only thing he’s had left in him. Because he loved you, and he still does, even though tonight showed that maybe, you didn’t feel the same. And what hurts the most for Yeosang is that he’s not sure if you ever did because clearly, you were never his.

❊ taglist: @asjkdk @bintificreads @woojirang @svintsandghosts @cheolliehugs

[lis-likes-fics]

Haunted Eyes

Pairings: Eddie Munson x gf!Reader Word Count: 2.5k words Warnings: Mentions of murder, mutilation, lots of crying honestly, hurt/comfort fic, swearing... A/N: This was supposed to be a drabble... Like 1k max. But I uhhh... I got a little carried away. I was rewatching Stranger Things and this scene hurt more than usual so, of course, I wrote about what I wanted to do. This was entirely impromptu. Not an ounce of planning went into this and I think it makes it more ridiculous that I wrote two point five thousand fucking words. Anyway, enjoy.

You made them bring you. Which wasn’t really a hard thing to do.

It was early in the morning at the beginning of the break when you called the trailer. When you got no answer the first time, you called again to meet the same response: none. So you kept calling. Something was wrong. Eddie or Wayne always answered you, and there was no reason someone shouldn’t have been home.

When the phone finally picked up, it wasn’t the response you were expecting.

Your relief was instantly squashed. “This is Officer Callahan with Hawkins Police, who is this?” His irritation was clear.

Your mouth was dry when you answered, your voice hesitant and slow. You gave your name, wrapping the phone cord around your hand in circles on circles on circles, unwrapping only to begin the cycle again. “I’m Eddie’s girlfriend.”

“Oh, good,” he said slowly. “We actually needed to talk to you. Could you come down to the station today?” There’s a pause. “Or you might as well just come down here.”

You swallowed thickly, clearing your throat when you remembered to answer. “Um, w-why? Where– Where is Eddie?”

“Just come down.” He hung up the phone.

You listened to the drone of the line for a long time before you hung it back up. With fear and anxiety curling in your belly, you had no other line of action other than to do as you were told.

When you got to the trailer park, it was a hassle even getting through the entrance. There’s police everywhere, and plenty of bystanders to boot. You feel naked when you step out of your car and make yourself walk the rest of the way to Eddie’s place. The self-consciousness dissipates when you get closer and closer to the familiar home and are met with more police and people, caution tape and red and blue lights everywhere you turn. You practically sprint toward the scene.

“What’s happening?” you ask frantically, easily noticing the glances and glares from the crowd. You’re used to them, being Eddie’s girl and all. You speak quickly, ignoring them all for the sake of finding an answer. “What’s going on? Can you let me through? I’m his girlfriend, Callahan told me to come down here. Hey!”

A couple of officers finally let you pass, but they didn’t let you anywhere near the actual trailer. Officer Callahan and Sheriff Powell pulled you aside, sitting you at a picnic table away from the scene. Glancing over your shoulder, you could see Wayne. He was watching you, an unreadable expression on his face only broken when he turned away to rub at his face.

They sat you down, seeming very intimidating with the way they watched you. What you noticed first was the suspicion, the awaiting accusations you were preparing to fight.

“What’s going on?”

“Before we answer any of your questions,” Sheriff Powell begins, “we’re gonna need you to answer some of ours.”

Their questions were absurd. Where were you last night? Were you with Eddie? Do you know where Eddie was? Were you involved in Eddie’s “business”? Do you know Chrissy Cunningham? Were you friends? They never stopped, and you failed to see how it was relevant until you knew what was going on.

And then they dropped a fucking bomb on you.

“We just saw Chrissy Cunningham dead—mutilated—in the Munson trailer. Your boyfriend is our top suspect. Do you need to be added as an accessory?”

You hated to admit that you started crying. As soon as you got past the shocked face and the gasp, you began to cry. And it wasn’t a cute little cry made of delicately wiped tears and tiny sniffles, it was a fully bent over sob that shook through your body and ached all the bad feelings in your gut with no chance of relief.

They looked uncomfortable.

“Do you think Eddie Munson would be capable of something like this?” they tried asking through your tears.

You stood up immediately, ignoring the sobs like they weren’t there so you could speak, and make sure they heard you.

“If you really think you can look me in the eyes and seriously ask me if Eddie Munson is capable of cold blooded murder, then you’re a goddamn idiot, and you’re a bigger one than I ever thought you’d be, at that.” You wiped angrily at your tears, keeping your distance but ensuring every word counted. “Eddie is the best person I’ve ever known, and he could never do something like this. Ever.”

Callahan, entirely unconvinced, spoke up. “Do you even know where your boyfriend is right now? He certainly hasn’t come forward.”

You rolled your eyes, turning on him. “If you were the number one town pariah, and something like this happened in your home, would you want to come forward knowing that you would be the only person anyone ever believes is responsible?” Again, you wiped your face to be rid of the extra tears. A heavy sigh ripped from your chest as you struggled to breathe. “You seem to have it all figured out. If you know Eddie so well, why don’t you go fucking find him yourself? Are we done?”

When they finally released you, you stormed to your car and all the way down the road. But it was hard to see past the tears. You pulled off to the shoulder and into the trees surrounding the place. You sat there for a long time, and you sobbed.

~

You got a call almost as soon as you got home. It scared the living shit out of you, but you answered it with as much annoyance as you could muster. “Hello?”

The voice that said your name was so full of relief, and it honestly offered some for you, too. “It’s Dustin, I’m at the Family Video with Max. We need you immediately?”

“Why?” you asked quickly. “Wait, is this about Eddie? Do you know where he is?”

“Just come down immediately!” He hung up the phone as soon as his last word was finished, and you were just as quick to grab your stuff and go.

~

What Max had told you was utter insanity, but you had no other choice than to believe her because everyone seemed just as serious as her when she said it. It only worsened your anxiety. You didn’t know how you were supposed to live like that.

As though the cop’s questioning before wasn’t frustrating enough, they asked you a million more just to figure out if you knew where Eddie was. But you didn’t. He left you no clues. He just disappeared, and that made you more nervous than anything. Eddie tells you everything. The idea of being so in the dark makes you want to cry again, but you can’t. If you want to find him, you have to stay focused.

All the phone calls were the grueling part of the search, but when you finally arrived at Reefer Rick’s place, you were a buzzing ball of worry.

The good thing was that you felt like you were getting closer to finding Eddie.

The shed was really fucking dark. It’s darker than you last remember it being, but to be fair, the last time you were here, it wasn’t pitched black and you weren’t worried your boyfriend was dead.

“Hello?” Robin’s voice was quiet when she walked into the room. You were almost too scared to talk as you shone your flashlight at everything that looked like a shadowy beast in the darkened room.

Your attention was drawn quickly to Steve when he jabbed a wooden oar at a tarp covering contents in a tiny boat. “What are you doing?” Dustin gawked, his question more demanding the second time.

Steve shrugged, still bracing the oar. “He might be in there.”

“So take the tarp off.”

Your voice was a harsh whisper, still afraid of the things hiding in the dark, when you spoke. “I swear to God, if you’re beating him up right now…”

He ignored you, still jabbing. You huffed and rolled your eyes, watching closely for any kind of movement.

Max’s gentle voice rose around the corner where Robin stood next to her. “Someone’s been here.”

“Maybe he heard us,” Robin suggested. “Got spooked and ran.”

“Don’t worry,” Dustin smiled cheekily. “Steve will get him with his oar.”

“I know you think you’re being funny, Henderson, but considering the fact that almost everyone in this room has nearly died about a hundred times, personally, I don’t find it funny in the slightest–”

Everyone was shouting when someone jumped out of the boat and forced Steve against the wall, a glass bottle to his throat. You recognized him immediately, and the relief that flushed through your system was almost thrilling, like breathing for the first time in days—if you hadn’t been so fucking terrified, it would have been sweeter.

The commotion was loud. Everyone’s hands were raised in peace and surrender. Dustin takes the lead, his voice overcoming everyone’s until he’s the only one speaking.

“It’s me. It’s Dustin.” He gestured toward Steve, where his heavy breath was heard over the sound of Dustin’s voice. “This is Steve. He’s not gonna hurt you. Right, Steve?”

Steve’s movements were stiff as he agreed. “Right. Yeah.”

You held your hands to your face, worried about the glass shards to Steve’s neck. If Eddie gets scared enough, that murder charge might actually come true…

“Steve, why don’t you drop the oar?”

Steve reached his arm out, holding out the oar on its end and letting go. As it clattered to the floor, Eddie’s grip on the bottle tightened, spooked by the sound. Everyone reacted. The fear was palpable.

“He’s cool!” Dustin shouted. “He’s cool!”

“I’m cool,” Steve whispered.

When you heard Eddie’s voice, it came with a strange type of consolation. “What are you doing here?”

“We’re looking for you.”

Robin nods quickly, “We’re here to help.”

Your voice is soft when you speak up, like a bid goodnight. “Eddie, honey…” you give what little smile you can, taking the tiniest step forward.

Eddie’s gaze snapped to you just then. You noticed this is the first moment he actually realized you were there. At the sight of you, the slightest tension in his grip eased, though not enough to allow anyone else that kind of ease. The wild fear in his eyes, masked by scared rage, was finally offered an ounce of reprieve.

“Eddie, these are my friends,” Dustin continued. “You know Robin, from band.” She holds up her hands, imitating a trumpet.

“This is my friend, Max. The one who never wants to play DND?” Max gave a little wave.

Dustin gestured toward you, especially insistence with his words. “And your girlfriend? You definitely know her.”

You raised your hand to wave at him, a slow and gentle movement. “Hey, honey…” The hesitant smile you gave offers comfort. His eyes stayed glued to you until Dustin’s voice cut in again.

“Eddie,” he said gently. “We’re on your side.” When he didn’t let up, Dustin became more urgent. “I swear on my mother!” Eddie looked away. “Right, guys?”

A round of agreements filled the room, consisting of mumbles of “yes, yes” and “Dustin’s mother”.

Eddie’s hard gaze bore into Steve, debating in his mind his options. You all held your breaths, anticipating his next move and hoping it was good.

You just wanted to hold him.

Eddie let go of Steve, who let out a heavy sigh as he caught his breath, calming his heavy heart. You were the first one to break from the group, walking slowly toward Eddie with silent feet. You held your hands up for him to see as he backed against the wall, slowly sliding down with his arms wrapped around himself.

The sight of it hurt you, your heart beating heavily in your chest. He looked so…disturbed, so truly horrified by the thoughts in his head. The look on his face was blank as he stared off into space.

“Eddie?” you mumbled, lowering in front of him so you were propped on your knees. His eyes slowly, with a plenty of struggle, lifted up to see you. You held out your arms.

Eddie launched himself into your embrace, and you were just as eager to wrap him in it. He squeezed you tight, you squeezed him tighter, so afraid that if you let go of one another, that someone would disappear.

“Ohmygod,” you muttered breathlessly into his unruly hair, pulling him in close as scared and relieved tears fell from your eyes. “I was so fucking worried about you, baby. You just disappeared, I thought you were hurt. Please don’t scare me like that again.”

You pulled him back only far enough to cradle his face in your hands, screwed up in strained pain as he held back his tears, still holding you so tight. You kissed all over his face—his nose, his cheeks, his forehead, his eyelids, his lips three times. Without the groundedness he needs, he just basked in your comfort, and you didn’t fault him for a moment in failing to give it back. He was here and he was alive, that’s all you needed.

You pressed your forehead against his. “I love you, honey,” you promised breathlessly.

He nodded, his hands flexing at your side. You pulled him into you again, your bodies flush against one another as you hold on for dear life. His response was strained but you knew it was the truth. “I love you, too.” You felt him actively melt against you, his body molding with yours as some of the tension is traded for your pure comfort. His next words are an even quieter, more broken whisper. “Fuck, sweetheart, I’m sorry.”

“S’okay,” you murmured. “S’okay. You’re okay.”

When you were forced to pull back, you sat at his side with your arms still around him, his hands all over you for the sake of keeping his feet on the ground. The way he needed you next to him was such a raw feeling, one of the things that sat at the base of your being, a core instinct.

Dustin and Robin knelt before him, and you, just as calm and gentle as before.

“Eddie,” Dustin said softly. “We just…want…to talk.”

Robin offered a little smile. “We wanna know what happened.”

He tensed against you. You placed a hand on his cheek, pulling his face over to kiss his cheek. His hand flexed at your back. He turned to you, his brown eyes so dark with whatever was haunting him, but still that liquid chocolate you knew and loved. He grabbed your hand on his cheek, turning back to them as he stroked his thumb over the back of your palm.

His voice was broken and defeated when he spoke, still sniffling as he struggled to hold back tears. “You won’t believe me.”

Gripping her flashlight, Max shrugged lightly. “Try us.”

His brows furrowed a bit. He looked to you for support, and you pressed your lips to his shoulder. “S’okay,” you whispered again. He swallowed thickly, nodding in miniscule little movements. His gaze found your hands when you grabbed his and intertwined his fingers with your own and squeezed them. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere. He squeezed back.

Stranger Things taglist: @activebliss @queermaxwooo @life-on-needs @killerqueen-ofwillowgreen @emmalee-01 @sw34ter-w34ther @gublur @allofmaris @redwineandnicotine @the-cryptid @katsukis1wife @chaoticcancer @papichulo120627 @emistrash @jjmaybankswifes-blog @thegr8estpuff @lover-of-books-and-tea @xxhanililoxx

Eddie the Banished taglist: @eddiiiieeee @hb8301 @queermaxwooo @lovemegood @munsaniac @digital-charlie @eiriancrow @littleblondesoprano @alexxavicry @samz31 @sparkletash @fandomgirl17 @marjoriea13 @akiratoro420 @mewchiili @mischieftom

Tag yourself here...

[starbuck]

Would like to formally recommend that everyone, regardless of gender, try out men’s underwear, because it’s INSANE how much more comfortable they are!!!!!!!

[femme-enby]

Hehehe

[thelostboys87]

at this point im just speeding through chapter one of lover boy like im trying to get through the perfume department

[quibbs126]

Something I was thinking about, we want Gen 5 remakes, sure, but like, after that…do the games after really need to be remade? Maybe it’s just me, but I feel like Gen 6 onwards are a bit too modern to really need a remake

[fuzzyunicorn]

Babe, god said this is our theme song 4 our apocalyptic mission 🫡

[steviescrystals]

my dad confuses me on the daily

[exopelagic]

sooooososososo tored

[raeathnos]

.

[goldenxsunshine]

.

[mostly-imagines]

Moonstruck

jason todd x reader

aka sober thoughts and all that

warnings: intoxication

Jason has a thing about drinking around you. He’d kind of skirted around it for a while when you were first dating, but after a while you’d noticed he never really has more than a drink or two regardless of how much you had. The only times you ever see him drink more is when he’s downing whiskey as a pain mitigater when he needs stitches. You’d initially assumed he just wasn’t a big drinker, but eventually you’d come to realize it was more of a matter of not wanting to lose his inhibitions around you. 

You know he’s still working on trusting himself, even sober, because he’s terrified of accidentally hurting you. But you have a hard time imagining him losing control like that in any state and you’re nearly certain he’s just being hard on himself.

You’ve been falling in and out of less than peaceful sleep for the past few hours, having trouble easing yourself while your boyfriend is still out. You at least attempted to get to bed earlier tonight because for once he isn’t out fighting crime and risking injury, though you haven’t found much more luck than usual. 

You lie on your back, half ready to give up and turn on a movie while you wait.

You’re momentarily startled to hear Dick bellow out your name, no regard for the fact that it’s nearing three in the morning and you have neighbors. He’s not much of a shouter so you’re instantly on alert, worried that he or Jason are hurt.

You fumble out of bed and rush to the living room, surprised to find your fire escape empty. You turn, proceeding towards the front door, opening it cautiously. 

“Dick? What—” You don’t need to finish your question because the second you take one good look at the two of them, the state of them is immediately clear. Dick, who’s barely standing upright on his own, supports your boyfriend's weight via Jason’s arm slinged around his shoulder.

“Hey!” Dick grins at you, far more lively than he has any business being this late at night. “Sorry, couldn’t remember which apartment was yours.”

You nod pensively, “Well the perspective’s different than when you’re coming in through the window.”

He continues on past that without thought, “I’ve come to deliver,” he says, gesturing up to Jason with a bit of a strain. You’re pretty sure there were supposed to be a couple more words at the end of that sentence but you understand well enough anyway.

You nod, eyebrows raised and try to hide a smile. “Thanks, Dick.” He shifts your boyfriend off of his shoulder to lean him up against the door frame, where Jason places a majority of his weight.

You eye him warily, not confident in his steadiness. He seems to hold well enough against the heavy door though, his eyes drifting around the tiled floor. Your attention shifts to Dick, who’s clearly satisfied with a job well done and ready to go.

You tilt your head, seeing him turn away. “You good?”

“I’m great!” He calls out with a thumbs up. You watch as he staggers away, nearly missing the exit.

You look back over at Jason, who’s already staring at you with a soft gaze. “You’re pretty,” he fawns, irises blown out and flickering all over your face.

“Oh you’re drunk drunk.” You grin, watching him stumble forward a bit.

He shakes his head, looking a bit dizzy after, “Shoulda seen Tim.”

You pause mid laugh, “…Who drove you here?”

He falters at that, gaze falling to the floor. “Uh…” He winces, “Damian…”

You nod slowly, eyes wide, “We’re gonna talk about that tomorrow.”

“He’s better than you’d think.” You’d hope so. 

Well, at least he’s spending time with his brothers.

You sigh, straightening your posture in preparation for the job to come. “Alright, come on big guy,” you pull him up from his slant against the wall, hauling him into the same position he’d been in with Dick—though you’re struggling significantly more to hold him upright. “You gotta help me out here, Jay,” you grunt, trying very hard not to fold under his weight. You swat the door shut behind you, making peace with the fact that he’ll scold in the morning for not locking it.

He presses an uncoordinated kiss to the side of your head as you try to shuffle him along, not interested in the least in easing your labor. His self discipline isn't quite gone, but his awareness of how big he is sure seems to be. 

You wobble from the heavy weight of his arm around your shoulders, holding onto him by his waist. You manage to get him to sidestep your cat, narrowly, though Salem hisses at him all the same. Jason takes no notice. You stumble into your bedroom with only about 30% of his usual balance aiding your effort.

He collapses onto the bed the second his legs hit the frame, pulling you down with him. You lie, somewhat awkwardly, on his chest as he holds you tight—probably tighter than he would if he were sober. It feels nice though.

You lie your cheek flat on his chest, relaxing against him. “What’d you guys do? Thought you were just having an easy night.”

He takes a deep breath before answering, “Raided Dick’s liquor c—” he stops, mulling over his words. “...Bruce’s liquor that was in Dick’s cabinet.” He annunciates every word in that sentence very carefully.

You squint speculatively, “Didn’t take Dick for the stealing type.”

He grumbles, “He’s not. ‘Less it’s Bruce.”

You can’t help the smile that breaks out on your face, “Aw, you really do take after your big brother, don’t you?” 

He scoffs at that, “I don’t. I’m the one who gave him the idea.” Yeah, that sounds right.

He taps on your cheek lightly and you pick your head up to find him looking at you with puppy dog eyes.

“What’s that look for?”

“Can I kiss you?” his eyes drop down to your lips, “I really wanna kiss you.” He’s nearly whispering and you feel your heart skip several beats at the feeling of his eyes on you like this.

You press a light kiss to his lips and he practically purrs.  

You pull back, admiring the serene expression on his face. “You taste like whiskey.”

“I like whiskey,” he says honestly.

You smile, nodding. “I know. Don’t know why, but..”

He leans in for another kiss but you parry, only letting his lips meet your cheek. He frowns grimly, attempting to chase your lips. 

“Lemme kiss you,” the pout on his face is adorable and while you hesitate to deny him, you retreat, resting your chin on his chest.

You smile wistfully, tracing his cheekbone, “You’re drunk, baby.”

“‘M not that drunk,” he tells you, though everything about him says otherwise.

Your hand falls flat on his shoulder. “Your eleven year old brother drove you here.”

He shrugs, “He can drive the bat…batcar? Bat…”

“Batmobile,” you finish.

“The batmobile.” he nods, as if he was seconds away from remembering. You suspect he wasn’t. 

“Bruce lets him drive it?” you question, wholly disbelieving.

“No.”

Enough said.

“You’re gonna be hungover as hell in the morning,” you mumble, taking in his uninhibited demeanor.

He nods that off, “‘S okay. You’ll be here, right?”

You tilt your head, observing him chalantly. “Where else would I go?”

His arms snake tighter around you at that, giving you a little squeeze before relenting. 

“I wanna marry you,” he murmurs, brushing your hair out of your face and tucking it neatly behind your ear. 

You blink rapidly a few times, “What?” You push yourself up on his chest, sitting up on his abdomen.

“Wanna marry you.” He repeats, eyes lidded as he breathes easy under you. “You’re m’favorite person…want you t’be my wife.”

Your breath gets caught in your throat. “..You want me to be your wife?”

His lips are slightly parted and his pupils are wide as he stares up at you, taking in your features carefully. “‘Course I do.” He brings his fingers up to your cheek, touching you softly with all the wonderment of a little kid. “You’re so pretty.”

You’re quick to return, “So are you.” Especially right now.

He shuts his eyes momentarily, shaking his head morosely, “You gotta stop bein’ so nice t’me,” he lets his hand fall to rest on your thigh. “Don’t deserve it.”

“Shut up,” you lour, “You deserve it more than anybody.”

“No. Not more than you,” his hands knead at your thighs like it’s an instinct. “You deserve everything.” He closes his eyes, tilting his chin up as his head sinks further back into the pillow. “Think I’d do anything you wanted.”

“Jay—”

He continues on, “Want you t’be happy. Wanna make you happy.”

Your face falls into an expression of dazed awe, “You do make me happy.”

He dwindles at that, “No, really happy. Take care of you. Build you a house, give you babies. Wha’ever you want.”

He paws at your thighs, trying to get you to come closer again to him. You lay back down on top of him and his hand instantly buries itself in your hair, stroking softly. “You’re just…you’re so perfect…” He turns his head to mumble against your forehead, “Feel like I dreamed you, sometimes.”

You breathe deeply against the crook of his neck, eyes feeling glassy. “I love you.” It’s all you can get out, and it’s not enough, but it’s all of it. 

“I love you,” he says like he’s trying to turn it into gospel. “So much. I love you so much, so fuckin’ much.” His words start to get lost in his weary babbling.

Your chest feels full and you can distinctly feel every beat of your heart against it. Or maybe it’s Jason’s heart. But what’s the difference?

You press a tender kiss to the nape of his neck. “You’re really sweet when you’re drunk, you know that?”

He hums lowly, head lulling against yours.

You still for a second, finding his breathing has slowed and his hand has seized its movement in your hair. His soft breaths fill the air as you press a kiss to his collarbone before settling in completely. “You’re gonna love when I tell you about this in the morning,” you whisper, letting your eyes shut too.

💗 likes are the poor mans reblog 💗

[luveline]

Mothers day lil fic with eddie x reader from june baby? 👉🏻👈🏻

mom!reader, 1.5k “Big stretch!”

You hold your arms above your head, stretching as tall as you can go. Your t-shirt rises and exposes the soft stretch of your tummy, stretch marks decorating your skin and lightened in the sun as you lean to your left side.

“Okay, now we count. One, two…”

“Three,” Junie says. “Five, six, seven.”

“You forgot four, babe. Let’s try again, okay?” You stretch to your right side. “One, two, three…”

“Five, six, four–”

You giggle. Junie, who wasn’t doing a very good job at copying your yoga poses to begin with, hears you laughing and drops her short arms to her sides. “Tummy!” she says, jumping forward to push her hand into your stomach.

“I’m telling Eddie you did that. So nasty.” You drop your arms.

“Tummy,” she says again, poking at your belly button.

You catch her hands in yours and level her with a feigned glare. “What are you trying to say about my tummy?”

She beams. It’s lovely to have a little baby that looks like you. Her joy is yours, her smile made up of your lips and teeth. She’s a mirror, and you could never not think she was gorgeous —it makes you gorgeous too.

“Guess we’re done stretching?” you ask.

She lifts her hands to your sides, a gesture to be grabbed. You lean down to collect her and drag her up for a hug, holding her low at the back to encourage face to face time. “What, you’re not talking to me?” you ask warmly.

She touches your neck.

“I know,” you say. You’re pretty sure you get it.

Outside, tires roll across grass and road alike. You listen for the whine of Eddie’s van as it parks, grinning all over again when it comes. He’s not supposed to see you today, it’s Sunday, he has too much stuff to do.

If he’s outside, it means he swapped his shifts again or called out, which means he’s gonna give you one of his speeches about being sickly sweet in love with you. You can pretend you don’t like them as much as you want, but there’s no better feeling than being loved like you’re something special.

You open the door before he can, and he needs it, anyhow. To your confusion, he’s carrying a cellophane wrapped bouquet made up of a hundred different colours and a white box in the other, arms full and naked, no jacket to hide from the early summer sun. Your eyes widen as he gets to the steps. He looks like he made an effort to see you (and it doesn’t matter that he doesn’t always, you love him as he is, but you can’t help asking yourself why).

“What’s going on?” you ask.

Eddie smiles. “What do you mean?”

“What’s the stuff for?” There’s a bag hanging from his elbow.

“This stuff?” he asks, cresting the last step.

“Hi,” Junie says.

“Hi, babe.”

“Hi.” She reaches for the flowers. “Pretty.”

“You think so? I got them for your mommy but I’m sure she’ll share them with you.”

You’re nonplussed as he moves in to kiss your cheek and skirt around you. “Come on. This stuff’s heavy,” he says, the cellophane crunching against his chest as he squeezes past you into your home.

“Eddie, what is that stuff?”

“You don’t know what day it is today?”

You think about it for a second at least. “No?”

It’s not your birthday, not Junie’s. You and Eddie can’t have made it to your first anniversary already, but perhaps six months? You try to do the maths in your head. Eddie puts the white box on your kitchen table, the bag on Junie’s high chair, and the flowers by the sink.

“You really don’t know, do you?” he asks, some sympathy in play.

“Eddie, we did stretches!” Junie says from your arms.

You offer her to him. He wraps her up and makes it look easy, baby on his hip. Quick kiss pressed to her cheek. “Yeah? Mom’s got you doing yoga again?”

You’re drawn to the box like a magnet.

“What is it?” you ask.

“It’s for you, babe,” he says easily, smiling as Junie tucks a curl behind his ear. “It’s all for you. You can open it.”

“You sure?”

“Of course I am. Open it up.”

You take the box’s lid off, lips parting in surprise. Happy Mother’s Day has been written in white writing against a baby pink cake. It’s simple, without frills, but it’s sweet and it looks soft to the touch.

“Is it today?” you ask.

“Yeah, babe. I can’t believe you didn’t know.” Eddie shifts Junie forward to stop her from tangling his hair. “That’s a lie, I totally can. Quick, come here.”

You slot into his side, expecting the kiss, but not the second one against the apple of your cheek. “Happy Mother’s Day. I would’ve been here sooner, but I had to make sure my mom knew I was thinking about her first.” He taps your noses together before pulling away. “You’re the best mom ever, so. Me and June got you some presents. No biggie.”

“Junie got me this?”

“Who do you think wrote on the cake?”

Eddie pretends to eat Junie’s hand, to her delight. You feel the cardboard of your box between your fingers, no attempt made to hide the achingly huge smile that’s taking shape. “And the bags for me too?” you ask.

Eddie can hear it in your voice. “The bag’s for you too, of course. You're the mother.” He snarfs against Junie’s wrist. “Um-num-num.”

You drag the bag from Junie’s blue and orange high chair across the table to peek inside. It’s a flat, paper bag from a clothing store, so the contents surprise you for being much more than clothes. Your smile gets worse with each item unveiled from its tissue paper depths: a humble box of fancy chocolates, a bag of your favourite chips, a small black box and a pair of pyjamas wrapped together with a ribbon.

You hesitate with the box, hand atop it, head tilting toward your shoulder. Eddie doesn’t notice your hesitation, or at least he’s pretending not to, pretending to nibble Junie’s sleeve where she’s laughing it up in his arms.

“What’s in the box?”

He looks up quickly. Not pretending. “Oh, that’s– If you don’t like it, I can take it back. It’s nothing crazy.”

“You’re proposing.” The box is shaped for a bracelet or necklace rather than a ring.

He nods severely. “Will you do me the honour?”

You laugh softly and line your thumb to the box’s seam. It opens on a tense hinge, clicking into place.

It’s a bracelet made up of silver beads. There’s a small flat-circle charm between the beads, that, upon closer inspection, harbours two hearts, one bigger than the other.

“It’s nothing fancy, okay? So if it breaks you won’t feel bad. It’s real silver though, you don’t have to take it off much if you don’t want to. I don’t know. I think it’s, like, a reminder of her when you’re not together.” Junie whines, encouraging Eddie to press another peck to her cheek as he hugs her tighter, and takes a step closer to you. “If you don’t like it, it’s really fine.”

You slip the bracelet onto your wrist. It goes without saying you’ve never had much jewellery.

Taking his face into your hands is easy. Holding him tenderly is second nature. “Thank you,” you say, eye to eye, willing it to sink in deeply. “I love you.”

“Yeah, I love you, too. And Junie loves you more than anybody. You deserve to know that.”

“I do,” you say, glad when he puckers up for a kiss. You kiss his pouting lips misaligned to nobody’s worry, adding another for thankfulness, and a third just because. He’s smirking before you’ve so much as pulled away.

“And thank you!” you add saccharinely, stroking Junie’s cheek, though the idea that she had anything to do with your gifts is funny. “I wouldn’t get to be a mommy if it wasn’t for you. I love you.”

“Love you,” Junie says distractedly, more interested by the stud earring in Eddie’s lobe.

He gives you both a soft, soft look, startlingly yards away from his previous smirking. “You’re the best girls in the world.”

“You're the best boyfriend.” You curve an arm around him to steal him and press your face into his arm. “I love you,” you say, smushed. “Thank you so much for everything. I love you.”

“I love you, too,” he says.

“I really love you.”

“Yeah,” he says, his nose touching your head as he cranes his head down to you. “It’s okay, sweetheart, I love you too. You deserve it, alright?”

Junie pats your head. “Love love love you. Kiss?”

She almost blinds you trying to kiss you in the eye as you turn your face toward her, but it’s nice.

[capslocked]

PARITY

male reader x sana & miyeon

21k words

Within some reasonable tolerance, the two are carbon copies. Six of one, half a dozen of the other.

Doppelganger, twin, deadringer - they always tell you, they don’t see it.

But when they stand together it always comes across like two shadows stitched into one silhouette; the slope of their noses, their mouths; the way their hair cascades down past their shoulders.

You’ve learned to recognize the twitch at the corner of their lips before a laugh - how they speak in the same inflection and pitch and tempo, the same cadence coloring all their syllables. Even in their figures there is something uncannily familiar: that petite stature, that grace; they both have perfect posture, an ingrained elegance, like something handed down generation to generation. And of course - the height. The hair. The eyes. The same-damned-smirk.

Here's a hypothetical: if Sana's DNA, then Miyeon's RNA. They're both two separate ways of reading the same thing, and they both have it in them to transcribe the same hot load of proteins over all their pretty faces.

"Oh, that's like a sex joke," Miyeon says to Sana, frowning slightly, "right?"

"I don't know." Sana hums. "Protein... like sperm?"

You sigh, rub your thumb at your temple. This is why, normally, you wouldn't take ditzy to bed, but there's all this history between you and Sana that proves otherwise. The dirty truth is: you’ve been taking ditzy to bed for years. And Miyeon’s right there. She’s all bright eyes, blonde hair, tiny little waist, the perfect height to get two fingers in her cunt and the rest of her in your lap without you even needing to shift your arm into something more uncomfortable. God forbid.

She pulls back the curtain of silk-glossed-hair spilling over her cheek and tucks it neatly behind her ear. Okay, fine. So maybe you really do have a type.

"Yeah," Miyeon decides. "I think that's a good pun. Cute."

She glances sideways at Sana; something flashes between them, imperceptible. They've been doing this sorta thing for a long time - long before they ended up in their current living arrangement. This machine of synchronized, unvoiced communication.

"Cute," echoes Sana, delighted, and she lets her eyes flick back to yours. "Baby, are you, like, gonna give us lots of protein?"

"First of all, we’re fast approaching the point of diminishing returns on the whole protein spermaestria," you muse, wryly. Sana beams. "And again, the point I’m trying to make, Sana: you two are identical."

"Not in spirit," says Miyeon, automatically. "Or intellect. Or appearance, either."

"You can't just claim that," says Sana, matter of fact. "He means physically. I have bigger tits and a better ass.”

There's no argument from your end. And not only because the cab driver hits a speed bump or a pothole or perhaps a small child way too quickly that sends you all lurching together into the seatbelts.

Miyeon finds a good hold in the handle over the door - it saves her - and you wind up steadying Sana. For a split second, it's both their shoulders leaning on yours: Sana, then Miyeon, then Sana. Back and forth. Back and forth. The three of you still end up sprawled halfway out of the seats and onto each other in the cramped cab, tangled all together.

"Please, explain it then," implores Sana, hushed slightly. "Go ahead, I'm sure Miyeon's dying to hear it."

"Look, it's not a perfect one to one mapping," you say, running your hand through your hair and putting on your patient professor-in-front-of-the-class face. "For example: Miyeon's cuter-"

"Thank you," chirps Miyeon, sweetly sardonic, before you can even append anything else to the statement. Sana’s already there with a noise of mild protest.

"I mean, I'm a full inch and a half taller than you."

"So?"

"That’s an unfair advantage. You've gotta be the dumbest person I know."

"Funny," chides Miyeon, swiveling her gaze onto Sana. "You could barely talk when we were fucking your brains out on your birthday. He's dating you, not me, remember? If anything, you're the one sporting an unfair advantage."

"Okay, well," Sana counters, reasonably, "when you can barely get a sentence out from choking on my boyfriend's cock, who the hell is supposed to call it?"

You ignore that. Miyeon is having more difficulty; her face has flushed cherry red and her hand's white-knuckle-gripping the side of the cab's passenger door. 

"For what it’s worth," you cut in, placidly, "I don’t think there’s any clear answer."

"Nonsense," they both reply, simultaneously and satisfied - like wind up toys. And that's the way the conversation tends to go when you get them alone like this. Identical, you pause to think again after spilling out from the back of the car and onto the curb outside the girls’ apartment.

All the things they say are word-for-word - they walk the same, eat the same, smile the same, tilt their heads the same. In those moments where you don't speak, it feels like watching some two-headed monster, an entity constructed from equal parts of both. And it isn't just the physicality at play. They've got that eerie ability to read each other, speak for each other. It's strange: their habits, the way their eyebrows arch, the set of their shoulders. It all syncs right up, matches seamlessly.

It's really fucking uncanny.

"Um." Sana twists one slim wrist back and forth until the key turns in the lock. "So, is it, like, wrong of me that I kinda just wanna skip the dinner part of this and watch my roommate get wrecked in the middle of our living room?"

"Depends," you answer, before you can let yourself dwell too much.

“Just a complete and utter carpet dive,” Sana says, shouldering the door open and flipping on the lights. “It’d serve her right. She’s being annoying.”

Miyeon scoffs, sticks out a bare, pale leg - it ends in a nail polished fire engine red, the strap of a stiletto sandal - and blocks your way inside. "Hey," she protests, lightly. You are not the only object in the equation - you are merely an item to be held against them; it's not about you, not in its most abstract shape. Miyeon and Sana are competing - vaguely for your affection, but more so just for affection in general. It's an ego thing, if nothing else.

"I'm an angel. I'm precious."

"Get your pretty feet out of his face," warns Sana.

"Ugh," says Miyeon. And then, "so short-tempered when you're not getting away with everything."

"Whatever, princess." Sana gestures, airy and flippant. "In any case: fuck off, or go get fucked."

This has become some kind of weird custom, admittedly. Miyeon does exactly as her best friend requests. She floats down the hallway and toward her room.

"Can't get good service around here anymore anyway," is what she tosses over her shoulder. Her fingers run up the door frame to her room and hang there, briefly, before she glances sideways back. You and Sana, now giving her your deservedly undivided attention. There is no split focus, no point of overlap. Her hair falls loose past her shoulders; her shirt clings a little to the muscles of her arms, her ribs. The point of contact between her skirt and her upper thighs. Those impossibly big eyes. She's gorgeous. You rarely ever let yourself forget that. There's something devastating about the set of her face, about how her body is absolutely fucking perfect, all curving lines and smooth planes - tits that fit right in your palm, the dip of her stomach, the pretty shape of her ass - she’s tiny, and in a way, that means you can do anything to her and manage to get away with it. She’ll let you. She’ll ask you to do it all again. 

"You two are more than welcome to follow along, if you feel so inclined,” Miyeon adds before she opens the door to her room, steps through, and lets it shut behind her.

"Yeah." Sana runs her tongue over her top lip, staring you straight in the eye. Her smile is slightly predatory, all sharp teeth. "If you’re so inclined."

-

(For anyone wondering about things like premise or backstory, here’s a useful memory:

Sana has a new roommate. They've been living together for two, three months. She's still not over the fact you didn’t ask her to move in, and you're still not ready for it. Your answer hasn’t changed. You like your apartment the way it is; the two of you need space; it's what the kids call cohabital parity and no, the ring's not in your wallet and it's not even bought yet; stop nagging me. It'll happen when it happens. 

Anyway,

It's one of those plainly beautiful evenings in early July or August - a weekend probably: the living room is bathed in the sort of low, radiant sunset that can go on forever, all of summer stretched out, leisure and sunshine. Sana had talked her way into getting you to take her somewhere highbrow and a little out of your budget. She can talk her way into just about anything; that's her brand, her bad habit, her good fortune.

"We're not going to be able to get our tickets," you're explaining into the loud blare of a hair dryer. And to paraphrase, "what the fuck is the point of making reservations if we’re going to be so reprehensively late?"

Sana's juggling the curling iron while fumbling with an eyelash curler and applying mascara and rearranging earrings all at the same time, and you think about reminding her, again, that it doesn't matter what she looks like if you never actually, you know, leave - but then the hair dryer switches off.

“Hey.” Sana ignores the concern and swivels to ask which earrings match which necklace - two pairs are laid across the countertop; they look exactly the same; you love her, desperately, but for the record, you've never been any good at telling jewelry apart. Neither the knowledge-set nor the motivation; she looks fucking gorgeous in everything regardless-

The front door clicks then, and Miyeon bursts through with the force of an entire hurricane - and promptly stops, dead. You forget what the hell she said, but the story was: she'd just gotten back from the worst date in her life. She's in tears, sobbing. It's a mess. She's a mess. You can't leave.

She falls right into Sana's arms. Then Sana throws a pointed, triumphant grin your way, and says to Miyeon - and you remember this, word for word, verbatim - "Aw, baby. Don't worry. Let us take care of you. We'll make you forget all about him, okay?"

This is the long and short of it: Miyeon arrives, in tears. You never make it to dinner and a show. And the night ends more or less how it started - with Miyeon still pretty much crying, but only because you two won't stop. With your fingers, your mouths. Sana knows what her tongue's doing; Miyeon is loud - and responsive. She's gorgeous too. She's so into it. She needs someone who is genuinely in love with her, who isn't going to try and push her around. You slip your cock into her and that's pretty much it, a different kind of curtain call; Miyeon gets Sana's thumb rolling at her clit and, yeah - she's fucking gone. She cums on your cock like she’s dying, like you’re killing her. It's as simple as that.

Now, there are several instances of which this is the case, in chronological order:

a.) The first time, in Sana's bed.

b.) The second time is in the back of Miyeon's hatchback. Tight fit for three people. It's a do-not-recommend.

c.) The third time, when they want to try blindfolding Miyeon while she rides your cock in the living room. The girl can't see shit, you break some IKEA furniture you can’t pronounce the name of, and the condom comes off during the whole process. There’s this unsettling, world-rocking possibility in which you get Miyeon fucking legitimately pregnant via oopsie-daisy. So, you and Sana wind up spooned up with Miyeon between you two and discuss the eventuality, should it arise - what you will all do in the future, the consequences, what Miyeon and Sana will say to Miyeon's and Sana's families - what the fuck you'll tell the rest of your friends, let alone the press - and then, deciding together: hey, well maybe this is actually a really bad idea.

d.) The fourth, fifth, sixth and every time after that where you realize that you're just gonna roll it all back and pretend like this is completely normal. Two's company, three's kind of a fever dream - but this is the platonic ideal of groupthink. It works. It just does; you know how to fit the pieces together now. How to read her body language: the one-two-one rhythm, Sana and Miyeon and then Miyeon-and-Sana; where their hands are, where they're moving; Miyeon's choked little sobs and the breathless gasps when your cock is deep inside her; all the unintelligible murmurs passing between the two of them that you can't understand - but none of them ever really matter. The important thing is that she's put her two front teeth in your left collarbone while you fuck into her slow and deliberate, in a way she can really feel. You cover Sana's mouth with your palm, your fingers pressed against the pulsing heat in her pussy, and you make them both cum over and over until they’re eyes are screwed shut and they’re counting stars.

That's about it. That's all the things.)

-

"I call it being spoiled for choice," Sana says, pausing only momentarily to decide in the mirror of Miyeon's makeup vanity whether or not to take off the bracelet on her wrist. 

The glint that strikes off the metal is gold in the bedroom lights, all warm yellow and sparkling silver. Sana narrows her fingers, pulls it off, on - like you've caught her trying on clothes, the latest fashion in a store front window. A stylistic consideration. It matches the rings on her third and fourth fingers. She decides that it suits her. 

"Lo and behold," Sana continues, "we have a real situation on our hands. In your hands. Whatever, you get my drift."

"Your cock," adds Miyeon, smiling like sunshine. She’s tracing you over your pants with her thumb, and she’s got her doe-eyed grin on, the one that promises something sugar-sweet, kneeling between your thighs at the edge of her bed - the slightest dishevel of her hair, kiss-swollen lips. God, what a picture. Her pupils flare when her fingers reach the top button of your pants. "And what's worse? I'm going to die if I can't have at least, you know. A couple minutes alone with it."

"You'd figure out a way to die either way," Sana muses. She leans backwards in Miyeon's desk chair, tugging idly at the hem of her skirt.

They're not usually dressed alike, and that's the weirdest part - Sana's never had Miyeon's particular taste for the tiny gauche dresses and white converse shoes and glossy nails, not unless it’s some matching outfit that she's being bullied into. Today's no different: the soft fabric of Miyeon's slip of dress barely stretches down to the line of her thigh. The hem starts just below the boundary of innocuous and everything else. She’d been hiking it up all evening. And the straps lay so thin across her shoulders that one little tug in the wrong spot would probably send it skidding all the way down to the floor.

That's the main thing on your mind when you get one in between your fingers.

Miyeon simply shoulders the other, rolling it down to hang loose, leaving the dress hanging off the gentle slope of her chest.

"Pretty," you say out loud.

"I know," she says, holding the grin.

She can make the world smile, it's infectious - and your gaze follows the path: from the blonde-shiny hair spilling over a collarbone, to the peeking line of her bra, to the flutter of the bottom of her dress at her hip. You catch the subtle lace trim, the little patterns embroidered into the waist, and decide her body's a gift - and wrapping it is something divine, something meant to be ripped right to shreds. If no one else is willing to volunteer, then it'll fall on you. Sure, sure, sure. You can be thanked later.

"Lose it," you request, quietly.

"Mr. Impatient," is what Sana sniffs out, scoffing. She's lounged back on the other side of Miyeon's makeup counter. Her heel taps away at empty air, bouncing off the end of her foot, that hot little fucking rhythm she's had going since her partner in crime got in your lap and kissed you right down into oblivion. "You want to get her naked and get inside of her, huh?"

"Is that not why you dragged me here?" you counter.

"Oh, don't put this on me." Her expression slides right into the mischievous smirk you're familiar with. Miyeon’s often sporting the same one.

"He wants to bend you over, princess," she tells Miyeon, and you hear the wistful sigh through her parted lips come out like permission. "Not that I can say I'd blame him. When's the last time you've taken cock again?"

"With him last week." She throws the response to Sana. They look, more than anyone, to be in sync in their one-upmanship.

"Hmm," says Sana, and she’s looking right at you. "Check how tight that dress fits over her hips, don't you just want to tear it right off of her?"

"He's not doing that," says Miyeon, but there's the lilting tease in her voice that signals precisely the opposite. She wants it: wants it like sugar and soda, salt water taffy; wants to be stripped like skin, bared to the bone. Her knees spread, just a little. "Not yet, anyway. Right now," she adds, hand fluttering towards the inside of her thigh, supplying touches right over the lace, "I want to suck his cock."

"Such a slut," Sana teases, tilting her head.

"You'll get yours," Miyeon insists, before pulling your cock out of your boxers with a small smile, curling her fingers around it, leaning forward. "God, this thing." She has the head under the palm of her other hand, and a wet-tipped promise on her lower lip.

You thread your hand into the hair aside Miyeon's temple, gentle and what will seem in a moment: paradoxically-tender. 

"Imagine what it'll do to your mascara when I fuck your mouth."

Miyeon licks her lips. You reckon she’s completely aware how it comes across - the wicked fantasy she is.

"I'm imagining what it'll do to you when she chokes," Sana retorts. 

“When he fills up my throat,” Miyeon says, hungry.

Sana sighs, sounding utterly wistful, and she fixes the same unrepentant look on you. "Poor Miyeon is just starved for cum tonight. Aww," she remarks, sweetly, "The poor thing. Do me a favor won't you? Fuck my pretty little friend in the face."

"Well," is all you get out before you look up at Sana. "Yours too, honey."

"Hardly, the same," Miyeon cuts in primly, glancing sideways at Sana. There is some snobbishness implied; there are ways Sana and Miyeon have always found to subtly measure themselves against one another, to best each other - all of these ridiculous acts and anecdotes. Like their voices aren’t replicas of one another - and in constant disagreement over whoever is currently claiming to be the original.

Miyeon prissily tilts her jaw up. "Your ego might actually be the worst part about you, Sana. That and your tits."

"Guess he just loves all the worst parts," Sana quips, rolling her eyes, "and every time you call it into question I fall in love with him a little more."

She's got one foot up now on the seat of the chair and she's running her fingers, delicate and teasing, around the press of her panties. It's not a voyeuristic thing, she's told you, it's less about watching Miyeon get fucked than it is about knowing exactly what it looks like when she herself gets spread out beneath you. She watches you and Miyeon, she watches her best friend and you, and she touches herself and it's perfect. There's a few seconds, long and warm, before she lifts her fingers away, then sucks them into her mouth with a grin. Just the slightest taste.

"But seriously," she says to Miyeon. "If you're gonna do something - then do it. Don't be a tease. We both know the answer, anyway."

Miyeon swallows. You hear her. You watch her lips wrap around the head of your cock and pop off, wet and shining, and her head rests in the curve of your palm.

"I’m working on it," Miyeon allows, lowly - she pumps her fist again around you, careful with the motion; this little twisting tug. "Fuck, it's not even the fact that it's fucking huge, or. Like, it’s not because I’m dying to get stuffed by this, or because I’m sitting here thinking: oh my fuck, I’m gonna feel so full with this thing inside me."

You have her hand under her chin, thumb stroking gently against her cheek. Her eyes return to yours when you put a little more pressure in your grip. She’s fantastically pretty, and the gleam of lust and want in her irises has you probably too eager to play along. 

“So then, what could it possibly be?”

"It's-" Her cheeks darken pink beneath her blush, stumbling through a mouthful of ums and uhs as her eyes make tiny departures back to your waist until she finally gives up and just stares again.

Sana sits up a little in her chair.

"Look, this is the prettiest cock I've ever seen.” 

You and Sana almost snort in unison.

“I’m serious.” Miyeon rubs a semi-circle over the head with her thumb, glancing up at you beneath her mascara, and then to the base, back up. It jerks, almost like reflex, in her grasp; she huffs in delight. "It’s, like, perfect in every way. And, god, everytime- I’d just about do anything to feel it inside me."

“You’d beg?” Sana asks, eyebrow raised.

“I’m about to get down on my knees and grovel, honey.”

"Should've just said," Sana laughs - Miyeon chews her lip, half-exasperated, and drops a kiss to the tip that makes Sana's expression simper - "you’re halfway there. Want him to cum in that sweet mouth?"

"Want him to tell me what he's going to do," says Miyeon, frilly. "Every last detail."

Lips stretching open, fingers splaying, curling around the weight - she dips her head to rest her cheek on your thigh and kisses the underside of your shaft. She’s practically like liquid. Flowing and easy and gorgeous, always gorgeous, too far gone to form a full thought. That much is obvious. And why shouldn't it be - your hand's already snagged up, your thumb's already wiping the hair out of her eyes. She turns to let it sit against the edge of her cheekbone. "You really need an incentive? Want you to fill me up so I can-"

"Swallow," you supply, simply. “Swallow everything.”

"Yeah," Miyeon presses into the curve of your cock. She doesn't wink, not really; she doesn’t need to. "I like you. You always know exactly what to say."

Her hair brushes a feather-light caress up the skin of your thigh, mouth a vision of sin and pretty red lipstick. "Open," you command, quietly, and she follows your orders exactly - mouth dropping, head tilting, eyes drifting closed - her lips glisten with saliva and you could shove your cock into that mouth, easy. Just push in and wreck the inside of her - spit on her chin, feel her throat clench up as she gags and struggles around your cock. God, if that isn't a thought that can do a number on the base of your spine.

"Easy," Sana supplies, like she can read your mind. That wouldn’t really surprise you. “Leave some of her make-up for me.”

There's the quick hiss of an inhale, Miyeon's mouth stretching open. Her jaw going slack. You feel the long, wet suck of skin and spit, and her eyelids flutter as she settles in. She slides her tongue and adjusts, makes soft, raspy, throaty noises while her lips slide down the first few inches of your cock. It’s funny - Sana had made the same sound earlier in the day - and it's really not like it's an awful comparison. They both let on gorgeous little noises when they're sucking cock and it makes sense because it's the same cock. Same skin. Same person.

You're not, however, about to do something so pedestrian as compare notes. Not on them. Not in the fucking slightest.

And Sana, god - Sana doesn't just watch. She knows better. She's not even the one taking your cock in her mouth but there's the insistent presence of her: a fingertip diving down past the crotch of her skirt, a quiet moan, her wrist jolting in a repetition of short, sharp strokes, the kind she likes to use on herself: precise. Deliberate.

"Miyeon," you whisper. "God, just - it's your fucking mouth, you-"

The hand on her face strokes the side of her head - a push-pull. A chance to break off - she doesn't - so she ends up with a rougher grip tangling through her hair and you guiding her head further down the length of your shaft.

Miyeon loves the pressure on her throat. You know that. And, yeah, she fucking hates choking on it but somehow in her mind, they're different. Opposites. Because with the way she's going, a little cough will burst free in a few seconds time. That’s your signal, you’ve learned, that she'll let you slide yourself to the hilt. Just keep the wet tip lodged there until she starts gasping around it. It'd only take a minute.

Two tops.

And well, that's the compromise: your patience for a throat fuck is infinite. She's staring up at you with upturned brows and that pretty-please pout on her slick-wet lips. She's making her best effort but, christ. Fuck.

Her eyelids flicker once.

Then close.

"There," you breathe down to her, your knuckles finding her cheek, smoothing over the sharp curve of bone there. Your cock is slotted right in her hot little mouth and you're starting to feel like maybe you really did hang the moon and stars in the sky after all. Her lips press around you. Sink, up, down. "Such a good girl, sucking my cock, looking up at me- god, all dolled up, it's not even fair, Miyeon."

Miyeon can be many things, and presently among them: a filthy, obedient angel.

She pulls up. "I try," Miyeon breathes right at the tip. Her tongue darts out. She swirls, and swirls, until it’s back under the tip of your cock again, soft.

You're too predictable, or you're too forthcoming, or here’s the thing about a woman's intuition; Miyeon wants to tell you something more, she wants to let you know how fucking unbelievably hard you are in her hands right now; she wants to laugh at you for getting caught up and dumb but she's not letting your cock slide free. This suckle of her lips, right at the crest where you're most sensitive and leaking precum right into her mouth - this press and pull is as close to conversation as she can get. So what. You love it. She loves it: the reward is in the ricochet. You look at her and her cheeks hollow and the flash of her pink tongue gets wet and warm under your head, the slit of her mouth stretching to take every ‘totally fucking perfect’ inch of your cock.

And then her lips tighten and she just-

"Christ, Miyeon-" You whimper it right down to her, your voice lost in the shiver of her throat, all tight and wet around your cock. It's like your vocal cords have been stolen right along with the air in your lungs and everything feels floaty, warped and red and blanketing you with Miyeon's hard-worked rhythm:

The scissoring flick of her tongue as she strokes the base with a firm fist. The other hand resting on your hip, feeling your hips jerk. She wants this, the part where you let go and stop thinking. The part where she opens her throat, lets her saliva flood to pool against her palm, and wet the tip of your cockhead before letting it slide right back in her throat. Your shaft flexing into her heat, the sound of those gags.

She just-

She just goes on like that, sucking your cock while the flat of her palm skates a little tighter. Up, up, down - up-

"Miyeon," Sana says, now on her feet and shadowing in closer, leaning. And that's it. Sana knows too. She kneels down next to her, gets a finger under her chin, and delivers in a uniquely cold tone: "hands behind your back, sweetheart. I want him to cum in your gorgeous little mouth."

You nearly choke, ironically. You're already grabbing so much of her hair: all those smooth silky strands threaded through your fingers.

You thrust and pull. She gags. She fucking chokes.

Spit collects, rolls down the corners of her mouth and gathers on her chin. You can see the mascara threaten to run tracks along her pretty cheeks, the way the makeup smudges so dangerously close to her bottom lid. "Yeah?" you say, so softly, but you can't - can't seem to look anywhere else, or take anything back - so, what, her jaw's just gonna go on being that perfect little shape, and she's gonna be a brat for it. Okay. That works. She looks good choking. You can see the slick glint of her pink mouth stretching taut on your cock, your cock jerking and bobbing on the pad of her tongue; it's not real - no, this is completely real. The ball of your foot slips along the floor.

It's instinct. You can't help yourself; a groan spills out of you, half-sighed

Sana's whispering right in her ear; not that you can make anything out of it over the noises from her mouth, her fist all wet, pumping. The tick-tock bob of her hair. Sana's hand is on the back of her head and then - pushing the last inch down, and down, her nose buries right into your skin.

“Mnnph.” Miyeon, gurgling: your cock pressed all the way down the line.

"Fuck," you spit, holding her jaw in place. "Fuck, Miyeon-"

She looks up at you, her eyebrows cinched, the graceful lines in her picture-perfect-face pulling around you - blissed out. She stutters in place while you dump a hot load of cum into her mouth.

And she adds a cough as you pump everything directly onto her fucking tongue. It’s more than she anticipated, judging by the leak. How your cum rolls down from the corner of her mouth.

Sana drops a kiss onto her temple as she takes you in and out of her mouth again, until she presses her lips firm and hollows her cheeks. Miyeon's fingers caress your balls like there's some part of you that isn't giving her fucking everything already.

"Come on, princess," says Sana, kissing her way along Miyeon's neck, the tops of her shoulders. There is not an angle to Miyeon's elegant features that she could take that could possibly be anything short of priceless. "Show him how you swallow."

The image is obscene, for one thing. The utter filth in that satiated hum; there’s another. 

It's your white-hot cum dribbling past her swollen, fucked mouth. Miyeon swallows like the good girl she is - takes a breath, stares, and then finishes, a gulp, an extra breath, her whole face now a shade more flushed. Sana kisses her on the cheek and suddenly it's perfect: they're both staring right at you. Your throat has to unclench, reboot and the air in the room just tastes so good and your chest is heaving; you just- fuck, you can't breathe-

"Shit," you exhale. It comes out like a small explosion. "Uh-"

The side of Sana's mouth slants and then Miyeon grins: it's her cheek, dimple; that crescent moon thing and oh, this is the point. Sana slides a hand over the gentle curve of her stomach, then sets her open mouth over Miyeon's still-lips, slipping in close and - kissing. Their mouths melt together like it's the most practiced thing, tongues a second later, and Sana is stroking your cock in her fingers; the expectations clear in every little coaxing flick of her slim wrist.

"Do you have any idea," Sana sighs against her lips. The two of them, blinking up at you, like good little things - sweet enough. "How fucking wet you both have me?"

And Miyeon, shameless as she is disastrously pretty, reads right between the lines. "Where do you want it?" Her mouth tilts up to the side. A wicked smile. "He can cum all over us, no? And I have this skirt with an awfully short, pretty lace. We don't even have to take our clothes off, really, I can just-"

Sana gets an eyeful - Miyeon - before cutting her off, silencing with the wet press of her mouth, and suddenly their kiss goes frantic and quick. They're rolling apart: hands tearing up their clothes. Off. Off. Off.

Your cock stirs. It throbs. Fuck. Sana’s barely intelligible in the space between their tongues. "I could lay flat,” she’s saying, “with my legs open, and-"

"-with him on top of you, pressing inside you - so he could hold me down, and then pull all the way back out, to leave a thick load on your clit-"

"-and when he has to pull out-"

"-probably cum all over you too, the best view-"

"-or all over the rest of me, while I touch myself-"

"-maybe-"

"-and you just have to imagine how good that'll feel, while my thighs shake and we ride it out, you and I-"

Their faces - both flushed and dampened with the strain, both breathtaking. Their eyes are hooded, lashes a-flutter. They'd made their own decision, didn't even bother with yours. A mutual vote of two-to-one: you're going to fuck them in turns. You’re going to fuck them together. You're going to edge yourself in one cunt and fill the other. They're both going to take it, and wear it, and then use each other to make you cum again. Good. Okay, any questions - and they want it rough? 

The answer’s a two-part chorus. Yes.

-

Not even an hour later, Miyeon is playing, of all fucking things, Candy Crush, legs draped lazily across Sana's lap, both of them kicked back on the couch, dressed again like the best girls you've ever seen. "The amount of money they make on this app-" Miyeon complains, waving a lazy hand. A long strand of blonde brushes against the corner of her mouth before she swipes it away again with an irritated sigh. She's just sitting there, knees folded, blithely bitching about a game of match three on her phone. "And they send these fucking blocks just to mess with me," - another swipe. Her hair sticks against the fresh gloss coating her lips. "It's literally just a waste of human-fucking-potential."

"It's a game for children," you offer.

"Then why is it marketed at adults, hm?" She's absolutely serious. "Sana plays it too."

"Mhmm," Sana agrees, not really agreeing at all. Her eyes are closed; you're sitting next to her, and she's taken up your leg as a makeshift pillow, lying down with her arm resting on her forehead, so casually disinterested in anything other than the quiet thrumming of your presence by her side.

It's insane that they're like this: like they're not constantly checking their phones for texts, like you don't all have lives. You're almost - dare you think - having a semi-regular conversation. Now If for a moment you could ignore how they both look like the human embodiment of sin-

"Miyeonie," Sana says.

"Sana," Miyeon returns, flat.

There's not even a movie playing on the living room TV - just the netflix menu; it's volume is at a sort of white noise. A subtle buzz clicks on in the air conditioner.

"You know how you're supposed to go out with that guy next weekend."

"You mean the date you set me up with." Miyeon pauses, tongue caught between her teeth. "Where I have to put on a pretty little dress. And smile. And laugh at all his jokes."

"You know the one."

Miyeon jumps on Sana's train of thought. "You want me to send you some pictures when it's over."

Sana turns it over in her head a few times. “Maybe,” she says, finally.

A genuine exchange perhaps. No fighting, no bullshit, no riptide of pure unbridled sexual frustration.

"Or," Sana adds, simply, "you skip the part where you sabotage the small talk and come back to our apartment." She blinks. "End up getting us both."

“You’re suggesting I’ve been ruining dates on purpose?” Miyeon, incredulous, runs her fingers through the hair at the top of her head, gentle, almost like an admission of guilt. "You're out of your mind. Why would I do that?"

The fragile peace never does last long. Sana looks at you again. Holds onto the eye roll. "Why, indeed."

"I don't follow," Miyeon says; something, a tic, a tell, causes the muscle in her brow to stutter.

"She's suggesting that you'd rather be in bed between us than on a date with some guy whose face we've only seen once," you cut in. Sana looks over. "It's come up a few times."

"Okay, so what?" Miyeon takes a breath. Her mouth a rictus twist. "You're trying to get me to admit it out loud? That I like to get fucked by my gorgeous bestfriend and her pinterest-board-of-a-boyfriend more than I'd like going to a mediocre concert downtown with some dipshit who just wants to see if I'll stick out this 'goddess' routine for a month or two and then bounce for someone else. Wow. Sherlock and Watson, coming through for the killshot. Take me straight to jail."

"We never got around to those cuffs," is what you make mention of. It's not particularly helpful.

"Don't pretend," Sana says instead, "you don’t like to play both sides. Or that the trad-wife fantasy of yours is somehow subtle."

“There's nothing shameful about knowing exactly who you are, or wanting something," Miyeon insists. She tilts her head towards the two of you. A different angle. Her words come out sharp and hot: "some of us have the decency to let our friends know exactly what they want."

“Okay.” You laugh out loud, half out of nervous habit. "Well obviously there’s some sort of rhythm here - I’m just not dumb enough to think I can put a finger on the pulse."

"Then this is, what, some sort of elaborate plot for my heart?" Miyeon's chuckling to herself, but in the space of a blink her voice is more tender. Her arms folding in close. "Is that the plan, finally catching me-"

"Next week." Sana sits up. "There's a trip coming up, something kind of international." She picks at the hem of her sweater, and looks at you.

“What the hell, exactly” - you card your hand through Sana’s hair - “does ‘kind of’ international entail?”

"Ms. Prada has a modeling campaign to attend," Miyeon intones. "She also needs someone to take care of the jetlag, is what I assume this is about."

Sana waves her hand in the air. "I'm saying we book you an extra ticket. Rent a room at a nice hotel. No work. No phones. Just us three, and the best sex you've ever had."

“I wasn’t even aware I was going to that,” you say - almost as an aside.

“You weren’t.” Sana leans more of herself into you. "You are now."

"Is this how you're going to woo me? The grand design?" Miyeon's hands are fiddling in her lap. Sana’s pressing in. Closer. "All the sex and leisure I could ever ask for?"

“It sounds ridiculous when you say out loud,” Sana answers, curling into her. “But, yeah, that’s pretty much it.”

Miyeon laughs like it’s a lost cause. Genuine, throaty - like music.

“Simplicity doesn’t have to be a bad thing, Miyeon.” Sana kisses her, slow. Quietly, "you could even pack a swimsuit," and there's this beat, the rise and fall of Miyeon's breathing that might lead anywhere: "though I doubt we touch the beach at all."

“You’re pulling on all my heartstrings, Sana.”

And there you are - etching your names onto the calendar. Reservations and bookings and promises of everything and anything and exactly where you all want to be.

It's Miyeon that finally admits, "you know part of me can’t resist the idea."

"Then, this weekend." Sana's fingertips trace circles on your hip, the tensing pull of muscle. You're aching and exhausted and content: drifting in the tide, a catch of the day, some soft, dreamy wave of consciousness, nothing specific, just the moment passing through all three of you.

But you do get it. There's this obvious snag in your heartbeat, too.

Because Sana is grinning; her fingertips, tapping. Your stomach's fluttering too. A little ghostly clutch of hope in your chest and it's such an embarrassing notion. You're getting swept away - pulled under - and it's Miyeon, splaying out beside Sana, her hand reaching out to you with her palm turned up. It's a promise, and the force of her can - and has - moved mountains.

"I pick the hotel," Miyeon's voice is deeply firm and sure. She’s got a fistful of Sana’s pajamas. "You two can sort out the lingerie."

Sana's mouth curves a perfect grin. She's kissing her again: wet. Heavy. It's not a no, if she was ever expecting one.

-

So that's your reality: what used to be two dalliances - separate but not distinct - now share one headspace, and there's enough rapport just in the group chat alone. You've all been messaging back-and-forth for weeks; Miyeon playing the game where she's the steady one in your life, the knot you're going to tie down when you can finally afford it (and in every way she can imagine). You find it entertaining. Sana seems mildly amused. And Miyeon will call you on the phone, sometimes. A chat-off. About nothing and everything. What you should bring on the trip. Where she's going to eat dinner before you meet her at the airport. Et cetera. Et cetera.

// Miyeon 1:21 AM > hey. I'm all finished packing. how's the bedroom looking?

// 1:26 AM > absolutely wrecked. no survivors

// Sana 1:27 AM > It’s fine. We stripped the sheets, got the box from the closet. Have the video you wanted as well. Call the laundry service in the morning and get the floor washed too. You know. So, nothing comes out of the security deposit.

// Miyeon 1:29 AM > a threesome that destroyed an apartment? say it isn't so

// Sana 1:34 AM > didn't hear you complain during.

// 1:38 AM > strict instructions, right?

And then sometimes, during those conversations, Miyeon will send an aside just for you:

// Miyeon 1:40 AM > strict? please. do whatever. I'm like so good at following instructions

That's Miyeon. The paradox of being submissive - you never, ever treat her gently. She never really wants you to. Sana's mid-reach over your chest to turn off the lights when she glances down at Miyeon's text, then promptly scoffs. The two of them don't always have the most conventional dialogue.

"She's one hundred percent serious by the way." Sana rolls on her side, away, but the nightlight beside the bed just manages to illuminate the slope of her ass - curved in the silk nightie she'd thrown on before bed. You want to crawl between the fabric.

"I never really doubted that. She's got a very specific... demeanor.”

“You’ve noticed.”

“Um,” you say. Sana’s turned over her shoulder to blink at you. “Kind of a dark streak. Like something in her is craving-"

"To be broken to pieces? Oh, it's fucking bliss for her when she's vulnerable and the tension cracks." 

“I was going to phrase it a little more indirectly than that, but yes, I suppose that’s the gist of it.”

Sana shrugs. 

"The girl lives to be chased is what it is.

It's just Sana and her perfect legs and smooth, creamy thighs right there, ready for you to touch, ready for you to fall apart over. They brush your calf, your thigh - so you are kind of distracted. 

“And she feels most wanted when she's choking, getting used, right at the point she can't decide if another inch is gonna kill her or drive her up the wall. No air in her lungs, nothing under her own control." Sana flops, presses against your side, one leg tossed on top, arms curled around your neck. "Pretty obvious, all things considered."

"Sounds a bit familiar, no?" you tease, and reach back to draw her against the front of your body. 

She curves, twists into your embrace. Her hair is half up, half down - wide eyed like a fantasy made manifest. You're always gonna give in, even when Sana doesn't deserve it. 

"You get me. It’s the best. Please, go nuts with the idea."

“Huh, birds of a feather.”

“Sure, whatever,” Sana brushes a kiss against your cheek, presses back into your hips to feel your hard length strain between your boxers and her ass, softening only because, god, she's a real human fucking treasure, "so maybe Miyeon and I have a certain… similar temperment to us, maybe that's true."

"Yeah," you breathe. Your arms wrap around her, the heat in her core now evident from the outside. "That's what I've been saying."

Sana doesn't respond to that, not directly; her palms drag, smooth, over your fingers. "Fuck me to sleep," she suggests instead. "We've got an early flight."

And so you do. You'd pulled your cock from your shorts the second she pressed her ass into your waist and claimed her place as your other half, the little spoon. There's a few beats, a few breaths, where you'd rocked against her clumsily, lining yourself up, and she'd braced the two of you:

She'd arched her back, got an arm over her head to tangle a hand into your hair and keep you right where you were - your lips against her neck. Until it's just this soft-rhythm, all easy thrusts; one arm underneath her, the other around her hip, finding and spreading and - easily - gliding into her cunt.

Sana sighs a lovely sound right next to your ear: your name, some hushed curse. Her hand is wrenched back into whatever group of muscles she can find. And you listen to the gorgeous little tritone of oh shit, oh god, oh fuck when you make her cum. The displays of indulgent affection in her throat, then the ruddy mess of you working her to a wreck of pleasured exhaustion until she collapses into a hot-faced, sleepy daze. All cozy between the sheets, the duvet - you’d fucked her from the outside in; made her relieved and relaxed, all loose and calm. Sana curls into you with her moans still staining the cool side of her pillow and the snugness of her cunt wrapped around your cock.

You drift off just like that, snug inside her. Sana is, as always, impossibly warm.

-

On your phone, there are some choice text messages:

// Miyeon 2:18 AM > jesus

// Miyeon 2:18 AM > can you guys like please

// Miyeon 2:18 AM > PLEASE

// Miyeon 2:18 AM > fuck any quieter

Okay, so it's not perfect. But you're about ninety-percent sure Miyeon had used every fiber of her willpower not to float across the hall and take her spot between the both of you. And it's probably for the best. You feel pretty rough when the alarm starts blaring as it is.

-

The room Miyeon picks out isn’t exactly small, nor was she minding the purse strings. There's a wide expanse of living area, a massive bed in the back; the ensuite and bath beyond that has a walk-in shower large enough for all three of you and room left over. On the walls is gentrification-colored paint, a gray laminate flooring to match; there is not one speck of dust. It feels every bit the palace it is on the outside - the gables and mansard roofs and the Juliette balconies - gothic, or neoclassical. Something vaguely European, with all its rich furnishings and pristine fixtures to boot.

Sana and Miyeon step into the space with all the familiarity of royalty.

"Warm in here," says Sana, appraising; her black chiffon, nearly translucent, fans about her hips with each tiny sway. In her white pumps, she's already a perfect tease and she hasn't even touched herself yet. "Smells good, though."

Miyeon's heels echo behind her like gunshots against the floor, and it's really not ever fair the way a skirt wears her. "The listing said something about a hospitality kit, and essential oils - there should be a basket of things. Do you want me to start the water?"

"Let's settle in a little first," Sana suggests, and without any fanfare, the first thing she does is draw the gauzy curtain closed.

There's an itinerary; it's an ongoing event. Technically it all started in the airport terminal when Sana slung her arm around Miyeon's waist and her hand went straight down to her ass. She just gave it a little squeeze. In the moment, nothing terribly remarkable, but then again, Miyeon didn't tell her not to. They walked through security like that and picked out drinks together from a terminal cafe before doing a circuit, fingers linked. The way Sana looks at her now - Miyeon sees - is how she's always looked at her. That is maybe, the whole point.

"Come here."

Sana's tone is smooth as silk, her mouth an inviting pucker, gloss-dewy and delicious. The bow is even tied at the back: Sana's collar is fitted snug. It sits tight at the base of her neck with the silvery cord loose across her shoulder, knotted down near the apex of her spine. It's simple, classic. All soft fabric and no frill, with an absence that invites eyes and wandering fingertips: she hasn't worn a bra. No strap lines. Her body has the sweetest outline and the warmest curves and god, the skin she's not showing is as good as what she is.

"So," you say out loud. It hits you: there's no cameras, no urgency. No obligations. "We came all the way here just so Sana could have sex, huh."

It's really always about the two of them.

"Good sex," Sana corrects. The table next to her catches the flat of her palm as she settles herself against the surface, one leg crossing in front. The slit in her dress rises in the movement: enough of a hint at the soft thigh underneath. You see her do this every once in a while and her body doesn't lie; this is an implicit act of seduction. But when she looks back up, her smile goes shy and her voice follows suit: "I promised our princess that we'd spoil her a little."

You say, "she's right there," at the same time Sana adds- "which is kind of impossible when she's still wearing her clothes."

Miyeon makes a big, showy production of crossing her arms in a huff. You could do anything; flip a switch; knock her flat against the wall, and Sana would hold her down with a hand at her throat and a kiss her like fire and gasoline on her tongue and no one would have a single word to say to complain.

You could have. Would have. But Miyeon finds her fingertips on the ridge of her clavicle, the barest swipe. She pulls at the top button of her shirt and the seam unlatches: a single reveal, a gradual, fluid movement in the dip and fall of a one inch gap. Just enough skin to make you and Sana swallow.

"Oh?" Miyeon grins. She stares at you with that coy smirk, biting her lip; an invitation for a kiss. For a fuck. You cross the gap, with every intention of making good on it; only, Sana slips in behind her - stops her midway in undoing the next button - and places a hand on the nape of Miyeon's neck, cool.

"She really can be a brat, can't she."

"Only because she gets rewarded for it," you admit, and as soon as Sana touches her, Miyeon is looking up with that same face she gives you when she gets on her knees, ready to be just your little pet, your desperate, whimpering thing.

Sana leans into her ear: "maybe because she knows she can't stop thinking about you bending her over, every chance she gets. Isn’t that right, pretty girl?"

They've always been like this, you think. Growing up with money and cars and ski vacations in the Alps: that sort of thing. It's been a long, slow, build-up and this was always the payoff. It is, without a doubt, just the slightest taste of luxury. Sana pushes, and Miyeon turns up to her mouth with a slow, dangerous whisper. "Isn't it kinder to say it as it is, instead of dancing around it for weeks-"

"For months," corrects Sana, and then sliding into a far more generous tone, "mouths, fingers- or his cock?"

"Maybe," Miyeon lifts her chin like she's readying to kiss, "all three."

Her voice drips - purses her lips, and you're there again: at that fateful exchange. Everything about Miyeon has the power to sink its claws deep. Those heels on her dainty little feet, the stockings climbing along her thighs. Everything.

"Miyeon." That comes out harsher than you'd have thought.

"What can I say? I'm not a patient person." She's got that wild, starry-eyed look to her. You could tame her. You could dominate her - your throat is so dry. The room has the faint scent of citrus, like lemon rind and verbena - a kind of lightheadedness settling over you all. "So, why don't you..." She's blushing, holding her arm up as she skims a finger down this slow path along your torso, finally hooking it into the top of your pants. And now, it's very, very clear she isn't wearing a bra either. "Make things a bit easier."

There's an entire lexicon of everything you'd like to do, so it's best, maybe, that you settle for: "Sana, be a doll."

"Anything," she says; she doesn't hesitate. You like the easy give.

And it's kind of amazing. All three of you together and, sure, the way her fingertips tighten, sliding under the curve of Miyeon's chin and then pulling the linen shirt down from the backs of her shoulders - this is a choice you can all agree on. One that pulls on the elastic band hugging the cut of Miyeon's waist, makes the material drag and ride up the front of her legs. Her belly. Sana has the gift of being able to kiss so perfectly on the back of someone's neck that you could easily forget she can get a little mean, too.

"What is it, baby." Sana asks; a challenge, not a question. "Come on, love. You know it's true. Why don't you let me show him how sweetly you moan with just a pair of fingers in your cunt."

"Please do."

"You're practically wet just saying it. You want it that much." Her voice goes thin, then deep again: a stark contrast. "Show him the mess you've made."

Miyeon's hand is in all the way in your pants; you feel hot. Like the room's air conditioning should've kicked on a lifetime ago - you're trying not to think too much on the way her slender fingers start to wrap themselves around the shape of your cock and your mouth falls open, because she can just - fuck - do that-

They turn to each other like mirror images over the slope of Miyeon’s shoulder, exchanging some secretive wordlessness in the privacy of their smiles and soft, muted laughter. Miyeon's on the toes of those pretty pumps to lean in, closer, further, and Sana lets her.

Which is exactly how it happens: Miyeon kissing you. And she really kisses you, sweet, delicate - and somehow all-consuming. It sets off this chain reaction, a wildfire of unbridled desire: that thread in Sana that can be almost violent, and one that Miyeon always manages to bring to the surface of her skin. Because now Miyeon's gripped and pinned, and Sana, bless her, pulls the fabric of her own dress up over her head until she's naked alongside her. Working towards a common goal. Here's two hands. Here's two more. They're helping you out of your shirt. It's pretty easy from there. You're all unraveling together, just falling apart - Sana and you, working in tandem to unclasp the pearl snap buttons trailing up and down the sides of Miyeon's sinfully short skirt, peeling back the cotton. Miyeon holds the swell of your cock tight in one hand, pumping, while Sana rakes her nails over Miyeon's breasts; both girls taking off the final scraps until every article of clothing is tossed to the floor.

And Miyeon here is simply unbelievable. Your hands are all over her. Her razor-fine waist, her thighs. Her lips. Those soft tits, and that cute mole above her nipple. Because even her imperfections deserve the same lavish attention.

You kiss her, and kiss her, and you can't help thinking how filthy it feels. This wet mouth and tongue, everything you could want in the slide of her mouth - just, messy-perfect and a bit sloppy; how her whimpers leak out in soft, a tight inhale. You cup the side of her jaw as your hips grind into her and a low, uneven sound escapes you. Sana's small fingers wrap her ribs to grip a breast, knead the supple curve and supply her thumb to the indent. It's really, so soft, and warm, and then wet: your precum dribbling over her knuckles, rolling down. Miyeon has her head tilted to let her jaw lean into your palm - she smiles, and laughs like it's nothing - like you're not there, towering over her lithe little frame. Like the head of your cock isn't brushing into her bottom rib under all the twists and jerks of her wrist.

"Your cock is so hard," Miyeon threads into a sigh, in that throaty, almost melodic voice. And then she laughs because she knows exactly what it’ll fucking do to her. "And fucking heavy. I thought I was going to get a real good look earlier in the airport," she confesses.

"Let me guess." Sana presses a kiss to her temple from behind; a lull in the scene. You fuck yourself gently into the curl of her fist. "You've been thinking about it this whole time. About getting him inside you. With that naughty little mind of yours running at a million miles an hour. God, that must've been such a tease, getting stuck with just the thought while we sat through lunch, and the flight-"

"Don’t forget right now-" Miyeon presses in. Her breath is hot against your neck. "While we're talking."

"Princess," Sana says into her ear, and it makes her tip her head - until she’s revealing the pale skin of her neck. God, yeah; maybe she really is nobility. "I'd be hard-pressed to leave you wanting. Your body's all wound up for us."

"She's fucking soaked," you confirm, like you aren't pointing out the most obvious thing in the room.

Miyeon bites her lip; you're gripping your shaft, urging her wrist to go faster. "This is the part where you turn me inside-out, no?" Miyeon is a walking fucking cliche and she knows it, smiling all slyly with her teeth. She says it so damn casually: "so why isn’t my pussy getting any attention, really. I wonder, I wonder-"

"Trust me, neither of us are interested in teasing," Sana assures her. "We're going to fuck you until you can't remember your own name. And then we'll fuck you some more."

You push down hard on her collarbone, and in that same instant Sana drops her free hand below and runs the flats of her fingertips along the plane of Miyeon’s tummy - until Miyeon tilts her hips - everything else still, almost lazy. Her feet leave the floor and then come back down again. The momentum of the fall ends up being enough to jostle the three of you towards the nearest wall where Sana's back is kissing the cold drywall. And you're already there - pressed into both: Miyeon's palms flat against your chest as you haul her thighs around your waist.

Hoisted, lifted, cradled between you and your girlfriend - who by the way is inching two fingertips under the top of a lacy-banded thong, slipping beneath the white trim, to finally (oh, god) pull her hand away and slip it into Miyeon's parted mouth. "Look at you." A hum in her chest. "The most beautiful, perfect-"

(You push your cock into her, and hand to god, you swear Miyeon's voice breaks like a bottle over pavement.)

"And all for us- your slutty little pussy is already so wet- Miyeonie, we've barely even started.”

Just think. The code word system you've been employing for months - "We were actually thinking... if you're not doing anything else... what's the harm in the two of us getting more familiar with you." - has proved exceptionally reliable in getting Miyeon out of her clothes and into your lap, but here's where it all vanishes into thin air. Sana's mouth is hovering over Miyeon's shoulder; her body, caught between the two of you. And she's trading in on the implied permission to tell you more directly:

"She needs to cum all over that cock, babe. Fuck her pussy until she’s creaming, won't you."

"Right." You groan in tacit approval, hands holding firm onto the firm swell of her hips - that round little ass, the dimples you can feel the dip of, just under your thumbs. She's already thrown her arms up around the back of your neck when your cock slips inside her, to tug you in; this wordless begging: need, need, need.

It's not even a totally new sensation. Nor is it even the first you've ever been inside her, but god - Miyeon takes one deep breath, and on the second inhale, you sink another thick inch of your cock into her slippery slit: she's completely, gloriously bare, just this slick heat that only opens more and more and more. You draw back, thrust in, and there's this sopping sound, all wet press, into the soft muscle - you don't even remember pulling her panties to the side. But they're bunched into the crease of her thigh and that's rather convenient.

Her breath hitches as she slots down onto your shaft, again - in rhythm - like a total dream. "Fuck, that's so tight," she grates, her voice rough and gutted; something like, 'I cannot believe you feel this good.'

-and they groan in unison when you pick up speed. All of it. Together.

Because it's not just Miyeon's perfect cunt wrapping you up tight, squeezing and pulsing, even better on the backstroke - but it's the way Sana is catching your lips in the space over Miyeon’s shoulder. That you three can play each other with the promise that every last moan or gasp or the single, resounding thrill of pleasure will find a perfect partner: one for your mouth and one for Sana's fingers at Miyeon's collar bone, a tickle along her hip, pressing an insistent fingertip around and around in small circles, dipping into the give.

Her body's shaking so much through every push and pull. Fuck. She's so small - and you're the one filling her. Fucking her. Breaking her. Pressing two girls into the wall like you've earned the right. You're splitting Miyeon apart so that Sana can fill the spaces you leave empty and vice versa: and she's so, so desperate, the little noises she's making, "Please," like it hurts. "Fuck," like it's the best feeling. "Keep going, please, fuck- don't stop."

"See, baby? It feels better when you just give up, doesn't it?" Sana's got her fingers down further between Miyeon's thighs; you can see her swipe upwards. Hear the wet sound. She says, "there," into her ear. "Nice and slow, while he fucks that cunt, and I rub you like this, we want to keep making you feel good. So take what you need, hm. I don't hear you-"

"Oh my god," Miyeon moans. And she means it - feels herself dripping all over you. "I need it. I need it, I-"

"Come on, darling," Sana chuckles, soft and low in her ear.

"N-need," Miyeon chokes.

And what kind of idiot wouldn't take their palm off her breast, or undig their fingers from the round of her ass for even a second. It's having her in the palm of your hand. With one foot dangling against your thigh and the other tangled up above you, the stretch in Miyeon's body is entirely for the convenience of letting you fuck her to pieces.

"There it is," Sana is murmuring into your mouth again, and that’s a reward of its own, her wet, full kiss at the junction between Miyeon’s neck and shoulder as her thumb digs deeper into the curve of the girl’s thigh. You listen to Miyeon moan your own name, uttered like it was written by god and meant to form on her lips as it tumbles down through the ragged mess of pants and gasps.

“Fuck, baby-” You press harder. “Your pussy feels incredible- how you suck me right up like you're the good girl you love to pretend you are- like a perfect toy," you breathe, "-all nice and hot. Licking, swallowing around my cock, getting dicked out for my enjoyment-"

"Yeah, yes," she pants out, the total capitulation. "It feels so fucking good."

You feel the mindless, blissful roll. A rhythm in the give of her thighs as you slide home again and again. There's a clink from the bracelets on her wrists; her hair falling into her eyes; there's the sheer ecstasy written all over her pretty face when Sana reaches one hand to start drawing slow circles on her clit. 

"You're just fucking me so god-damn-good." She’s breathless; you’re taking everything from her. The poise, the finesse, the dignity.

"Of course we are," Sana supplies, and it's fitting. You're both holding her up. You'll be the ones tearing her down.

Miyeon's arms tighten around the back of your head, arching, squeezing, and there's that feeling that always accompanies Miyeon: like she's completely melting you to her core and turning your brains into fucking mush. Everything from her tight little pussy to her breathtakingly pretty eyes to the way her spine flexes to meet the pitch of her voice - it's fucking ridiculous, that she's even real in the first place - let alone that your cock is buried so deep in her cunt you think you can hear her sob. Or that all five-foot-two of her is making these tiny desperate noises as you use the width of her hips to bounce her harder onto your cock. 

Sana's long fingers slip and press - they're not touching anything except the swell of her pussy, just this ghostly brush of a light, almost chaste graze. It's enough: a touch like that, and fuck, another-

Miyeon cries out.

“I'm going to cum-"

"Say it again," Sana's whispering, "tell us what you need," and in a sort of coup-de-grace-style-of-climax, she bites at the skin over the top of Miyeon's jaw and slips a fingertip right onto her aching clit. Presses down. "You're such a fucking slut, Miyeon, such a gorgeous cocksleeve-"

"I-"

She's actually whimpering, the poor thing. Eyes squeezed shut, toes clenching; everything is trembling, tense with release. You’re fucking her into a puddle of a person, and she’s holding her lip between her teeth like it might do a goddamn thing. It makes sense; the tightness, and wet and heat is what she knows.

"Go on," Sana answers her, and it's like her words slice the voice in Miyeon’s throat to shreds, "cum all over his cock. So. Fucking. Good, baby," a hard push through every syllable as her teeth snag into the shell of her ear. She rides the boundary of degradation and downright debasement because she knows that’s how Miyeon will absolutely cum for her. For you, for both of you. "Do what you're fucking made for, and just take it, pretty, lovely, you can’t live a second without having his fat cock and my fingers in you, can you? You look like a filthy little angel like this, I swear."

You’re both on the same page, telling her over and over - shh, shh, you take that cock so well, feel that cock fuck you apart, baby, and all you have to do is cum - only, you’re paying homage to the title: you call her princess. Sana takes the opposite approach. Tells her, "you want everyone to know, don't you, what a goddamn fucking slut you are. You filthy, dirty little thing-"

It works. They both work, and so does everything else.

Your blood has gone totally hot. Like molten lava. Boiling over and about to spill.

The last thing Miyeon says: "Oh god - I'll be good, I'll do anything, I'll be your slut - Sana - anything-"

And it's one of the best lines to ever leave her mouth.

"-for this beautiful cock and these fucking perfect fingers, shit - fuck! Right there, right there, right-fucking-there-"

You fuck deeper, harder. The orgasm ripping through her muscles lets you leave marks and bruises you’ll be coming back to all weekend. Miyeon's face falls against the crook of your neck, mouth pressed there - you can feel every gasping inhale, the open-mouthed warmth of her body. It's you that whispers a shudder, half-voweled - "Miyeon," and she’s already there, so ready - it's kind of crazy how everything about this girl works so intricately and precise, like her very design was to take you to the hilt and melt all over your cock, because Miyeon's response comes as a mind-blanking:

"You can," a muffled whine in her throat. "Do it. Cum inside me. I want to-"

Sana’s eyes flare like she can feel that cable snapping, too. How your mind is all white noise. The torque of blood rushing through your head. You're thrusting deep into her well-fucked cunt with all the strength you can muster, your hips stuttering in the follow-through. When you catch the smile in her lips - the curl in her lips like she knows you’re about to spill everything, like the perfect siren’s call- you hear Sana over her shoulder: "fuck her. Use her. I think she wants to feel it in her fucking stomach - you know, the whole reason we’re here-"

You cum inside her - there’s no question - filling her tight hole up. Shit. You actually cum all over her too.

In fact, you manage to drag yourself all the way out from Miyeon, the wet quivers and hot aftershocks, all so Sana can get a good visual of how you’re fucking ruining her: the loose rope of white that streaks up her tummy, splaying out beneath her breasts. The absolute debauchery; it’s even more pornographic when your fist pumps another splatter of cum right onto the swollen lips of her pussy. Miyeon moaning on impact.

Sana supplies her own soft gasp, scraping the air past her teeth, tension hanging in the silence - and then you bury the rest of your load back inside her cunt.

And here's a feeling that's going to stick with you for a while. Beyond the fireworks in your pulse - the shake-ripple that leaves you with nothing, no muscles, no brain matter - you slide your cock through her cunt again, and again - just to feel how your cum pushes back out. And she's watching, she’s letting you watch: how messy she's become. Her tits. Her sweat-dewed thighs. How every second seems to bring its own unique ache. 

Really, you’re left only with a near mental blank. “God, Miyeon-”

You have just the barest capacity to consider the way Miyeon's trembling frame clings hard - pulling her ass cheeks down flush against your hips - your thick cock completely seated, stuffing her fucking cunt as she goes weak and submissive. You hold her there, suspended as your orgasm softens inside her and Sana hums along your lips, the soft coos spilling into Miyeon's ear: "what a messy, nasty girl. Princess needs to be full and leaking everywhere, doesn't she. How many creampies do you think you're going to ask for?” Sana laughs. “How many will ever be enough? I hope he gave you something worth begging for."

It's not really surprising how a feeling can hook its teeth into you when you're cumming like that. Subjugating the deepest reach of her sopping cunt to fulfill your own filthy fantasy. 

And look: Miyeon is soaked - soaked and wrecked and pliant. You kiss her and kiss her, and Sana kisses you, kisses her too, all of it muddled up - and your mouths are a mess. Your hands go into her hair, onto her ass; there's cum down her thighs and all over the floor. The smell of you three: her slicked arousal and your sweat and Sana's expensive perfume. 

Here, come come - Sana is a flurry of activity; she's helping Miyeon out of her second heel after you'd fucked the first one off her foot without bothering to get the strap unhooked. There's her careful proclamation of, "thank god the walls aren't paper," as you practically carry Miyeon to the edge of the sofa, this dreamy vision of messy hair and a royally-befit-blush. In the whole world, not once has Miyeon looked like anything less than nobility.

And now's no different, really.

You sink down onto the plush, tufted fabric - a chair whose shape might confuse you if Sana hadn’t told you earlier it was explicitly built for fucking, or whatever it is you're doing. She's smiling at you, settling her face right onto your shoulder and peering up.

"Sana," she says wistfully, but looks right at you. "My legs are still a noodly-mess. Could you turn on the jets in the tub?"

"And leave the two of you unsupervised?" She jokes. "Never."

Miyeon sticks out her lip. Pouts, almost: "it'd just be a second."

"She's only asking for a minute," you add in.

Sana rolls her eyes. "And since you've suddenly turned into two hopeless idiots, it can't be trusted. If I'm drawing a bath," a flick of the gaze, "the least you can do is join me. A chance to recover if nothing else."

Miyeon, being Miyeon, has already dropped her face down to your lap, curling up with your cock at her lips. When she gets her first, tantalizing, almost chaste little swipe at the tip, she smiles all impressed with herself. With those big brown eyes, her fingertips skating delicately along your stomach, and her dark lashes beating slow - all of Miyeon, right now, is on purpose, calculated. Precise. 

Her voice is even worse: "she wants her own go first, don't you think?"

Sana watches where your fingers thread into the ends of Miyeon's silky hair, just the gentlest twist and tug. How you have her mouth ready and open, waiting; how Miyeon glances over for approval.

"Well," Sana turns a cheek, "he's already so worked up." Her dark eyes look towards you - a mock frown. "I don't know if we can convince him otherwise."

Miyeon's throat clicks - she's not choking yet, but left to her own devices, she will be. Her expression melts into an almost-gasp as your cock fills the empty space in her mouth. There's that plush little gag as she opens, lips wet. You rock your hips, and then you get to watch her nose kiss the trail leading up the smooth plane of your belly.

"I could go for a soak," you admit, with Miyeon drooling on your cock.

Because Sana's doing that thing where she turns around, has the smug look over her shoulder. Makes a slow, teasing movement that leads your eyes from her pretty face all the way down the cut of her back, until finally she's pushing the soft waves of her hair into one hand so that her ass is perfectly presented-

And jesus, sure: the sloping hips, the inviting lines - the sharp points and soft edges, where she is and isn't; her cupped fingers come up to her own chest, just to show off the heft of her tits, hanging heavy. Everything is sensually posed. You're only a little bit mesmerized. Her figure has always had the cut of a pinup model. Curves like a siren. Her waist to hip ratio is - oh-fucking-kay, maybe you could do it right now - bend her in half - get her fucking sobbing until you kiss her quiet and cum so deep in her cunt it's all she can think about for days-

You realize then you're pulling too hard on Miyeon’s hair.

Not meaning to, or maybe too eager.

Hey, you have a pretty girl sucking life back into your cock and one more giving you bedroom eyes from across the room all ready to sit on it; you never said you weren't trying your best.

"Careful, honey. I'm getting impatient." Sana's hand traces the wallpaper trim in the hall, a sweeping path; a vague reminder as she disappears down and around the corner. You hear the squeak of the faucet and then the sound of her light footsteps. And then it's just an echoey and unapologetic, "one day I might not let you have all the fun," followed by, "my goodness-"

Sana, appraising her reflection in all likelihood. All bright smiles

You turn back to find a second set of eyes staring back, full of hunger, as a wet, messy heat wraps around the base of your shaft and follows to the top with the flutter of her tongue - and then all the way to the back of that tempting throat. Miyeon's moving at the tempo you'd put her at. You appreciate that. But you lift her jaw and hold the side of her face so she's looking straight at you - and as soon as you pop yourself out from between her lips, you say, "you'll let me taste Sana, too, won't you, baby?"

(Miyeon's never been good at saying no - to anything. That doesn't change here in the slightest.)

The way you laugh is easy and sweet. You kiss the space over her temple. "We've always been in this together, Miyeon," a soft tease. "Go ask her nicely, and I bet she lets you clean me up," before adding, "maybe, after you lick all the cum out of my girlfriend's tight ass."

And Miyeon simply grins. The promise of that sloppy fucking mess. She's ruined herself time and time again over far less.

"Oh," she says, "you know how good I look with cum dripping down my chin.”

It's kind of impressive how shameless she can be. So fucking blase - what are friends for, anyway.

“Shall we?"

You scoop Miyeon right up into your arms and, upon standing, swing her little body around in front of you. And she knows that's the sort of thing she shouldn't enjoy: being manhandled, told what to do, having someone lift the choice off her shoulders like that - but that doesn't stop her from tangling herself up around your neck and tilting her hips back into you in that playful-fake, overly innocent-cute mien - where she says in this tiny whisper, "are we, you think?"

Your mouth lands on her ear, nips the softness there, "behave yourself, sweetheart."

And then a low, breathless laugh escapes her: "when's the last time that was even an option."

-

(For the record, the answer is never, and you're probably actually so fucked - it's kind of hilarious to look back at it, and think, because how could any two people who have spent as many weeks (months) as you, putting all the right pieces into the right places, get all the stars align at once? The idea that the three of you are hooking up and nobody's getting hurt, murdered or hung out to dry is statistically improbable; and the likelihood that anyone in this presidential suite will survive the weekend without breaking at least four limbs in various places is rapidly dropping with each passing hour. You've been taking the old adage and clutching it against your chest - 

It can't be a sin, if it makes you happy.)

-

Past the door, the first thing you notice is that Sana's hair is all pinned up. Always pretty like that.

However it doesn't change the picture a whole lot. A few inches more bare skin isn't exactly a big difference when there's the whole, naked, porcelain expanse that spans the soft length of her shoulders, along her hips and waist, and runs to her feet. It's still kind of incredible. The hourglass shaped silhouette. All the natural curves finding relief in the right places. Model-esque, that sort of thing. And, yes: her tits, the absolute heaven-sent frame of her ass and those amazing legs.

It goes without saying.

She's there with her back arched, an arm perched on the granite of the counter. So relaxed. An elegance only afforded to the very lucky or the very rich. She lets her head fall back, the fine curve of her chin canting above a neck that you would've been biting kisses into just moments ago if she hadn't put herself in full profile to take your breath away.

"Show off," Miyeon mumbles, and then whispers to you, "sorry. My body can't do that, like-" she indicates - with a weird wobbly hand gesture, about the height of Sana's pelvis. "Whatever that is."

Sana tilts her head forward and meets the glance you give her reflection.

"Hmm," is her eloquent contribution to the airy room, woven into the pitter-patter of bathwater, lapping at the surface. "Now why am I left to wonder why there's no one making good on my requests, huh."

You cross the space; get close. And Miyeon stays curled up against you, doesn't let you slip away as you walk over, doesn't let go. She kisses the front of your shoulder, hums softly.

"My bad," You say. It's very believable. You sound a bit winded; kind of a wreck, but your sincerity shines through in that sort of 'I'll fuck it better' kind of way.

"Excuses, excuses." A dismissive shrug. "The water's perfect. But if you insist," and the sultry drop of Sana's eyelashes is deliberate, an invitation. Her breath is caught as your mouth finds the space between her neck and shoulder blade - the place where she's gone all pink, "I'd hardly pass up the chance for you both to eat my pussy first."

And look: it's not a lie, per se, but the natural instinct for Miyeon-logic is just to provide the justification, "the faster we get you a cumming, squirming, desperate mess-" her hand slips to cup the junction of her jaw and the crook of her throat. "-the sooner it'll be 'til he fucks me senseless again."

"We have a long way to go to get even, sweetie," argues Sana. "Last time, you were both pretty self-absorbed."

"We'd never ignore you on purpose," you whisper into the crook of her neck, and Sana turns to let you follow that deep, velvety mouth as the kiss flows across her lips. "You're absolutely necessary."

"Only by accident, then. That's a little bit worse," snarks Sana. The reprimand dies down into something soft as Miyeon lets her tongue trail flat over a nipple. She shudders.

"If I keep going, maybe you can forgive us?" You watch her eyelids flutter open, a haze of ecstasy passing behind her eyes. You keep an arm at her hip, wrap around and press flat until her whole flat tummy is pinned against your cock.

"Mmm," Sana hums. It's that sultry note she likes to let trail from the very end of her throat. "Ask me again after you get me off. But slowly: I want to savor every detail."

Miyeon traces kisses across Sana's rib until your girlfriend presses two wet fingers to her mouth. Easy.

"Then you should probably do something about her," you say, and - as if in agreement - Sana twists her hand into the cascades of her Miyeon's hair. You lean into her shoulder. She sighs; exhales, deeply, while her back is shimmying further backwards into the countertop.

"And you should help her make it up to me," Sana chimes, her voice clear and melodic, every inflection playing right at home in her vocal cords. "Two mouths are better than one, and I have so many other places you should be kissing."

Sana has a verifiable gravitas, for one, and when she's not hiding in plain sight behind the bubbly-bright act she likes to put on, it's nearly impossible not to fall in line behind her. This isn't to say you couldn't win her over either; it's a pretty small crowd here. But you choose one direction and watch her skin pink up and turn to red; you grab a wrist and it goes cold and white. Every last part of her is so damn expressive. The point is that she doesn't need you to make a fool out of yourself to know you're into her - or vice versa.

(Or. You're such a goddamn sucker, as Miyeon likes to remind you with a scoff, a little eye-roll, and then her hands on your belt. At least, before everything else: the knowing smirk, the dangerous suggestion).

You let your fingers find the backs of Sana's thighs as she spreads her knees apart, and there, you're reminded of the one thing. That of all the ways these two girls are identical, you've never found a comparison that really works. Not by any useful measure.

Miyeon has all the softer features: a bit dainty, the doe eyes and the lone dimple, like a doll with an aw-so-cute factor, whereas Sana is all sharp, clean angles; the sculpted muscle in her calves and thighs, the firmness and muscle underneath - which, yeah, definitely not the worst trade off. Don't get it confused, both girls crave your approval; both prefer when things get rough and sloppy. Describing either as anything but the most submissive holy-shit-take-me-now-I-need-you type, when put under the slightest pressure is laughable.

Not when Miyeon lets you use her like a toy. Or when Sana tells you exactly what you need to do to fuck a baby into her (hypothetically speaking; she gets a little silly and dumb around the edges whenever she's about to cum and her brain starts tripping over her tongue). Neither will hesitate when given the option of having your hand on the side of their throat, pinning their wrists to the headboard or the shower wall, fucking them until they go liquid and collapse in your arms, shivering, whimpering and begging, their pussies pulsing around your cock. In fact, there's really no hard or fast rule at all. But here, you recognize, is a great point of difference -

"Baby," you murmur into the inside of Sana's thigh. You leave a mark with your lips that you’ll come back to. "So. Fucking. Gorgeous-" right as Miyeon starts pressing her mouth against her cunt. "Aren't you, baby? The most beautiful girl. And all of this is just mine?"

Listen - the praise kink your girl has is actually pretty textbook: Sana wants to be called sweet, she wants to be complimented, rewarded, and all that good stuff; she wants you to talk to her the way everyone who sees a flash of her skin or a sway of her hips wants to - the best parts of adulation, arousal, love, without any of the side-eye of it being totally obscured in a crowded venue.

Direct.

To the point. 

She wants to hear each and every you're sexy, you look hot, your ass drives me crazy. She wants it on the gruff in your voice, how it gets a little rough at the edges. Tell me you're mine. You make me so hard. This is just the very essence of who Sana is, and you have learned that you need to give as well as take: feed her a tiny ego boosting here and there, and she will completely throw herself at you in return.

Miyeon watches you run your tongue over her cunt like she’s taking notes, and it’s clear you’re more than prepared to give it all up to her. There's always been this veneration, this reverence for every inch of her, a pull towards her - her eyes, her mouth, her wrists, her long beautiful legs, the place where the skin of her thighs meets - you've always had this insane fascination with Sana, this need to know what she'd taste like or sound like. At any given moment.

"Oh," Sana pushes Miyeon closer, moaning. "Yours. So yours, baby."

The moment you both have your tongues working at her - tasting, the sweetness of her dripping down onto both of your faces, making you lick your lips and kiss each other so Sana gets to watch - Miyeon hums approvingly. Lets out this very performative, "isn't she just the best?"

And it isn’t that you can't find the right word - divine, wonderful, heaven, incredible, without any flaw - there just isn't much room to read into the fact that you and Miyeon are both sunk to your knees on the bathmat, kneeling in worship, in adoration - sucking on Sana's clit. The imagery sells itself.

"We'd never forget the important things," Miyeon continues, dreamily.

She's trading with you the folds of Sana's dripping pussy and the outline of her lips for her thigh. You pick up where she leaves off, and that earns you Sana's hand raking through the back of your hair, pressing you so close you can hear her heartbeat in her pulse; her blood burning through the very spot.

“That's how you make me feel, baby: so fucking good. Amazing." You taste it. You chase it. There is nothing like her cum filling your mouth. "Pretty. Mine. All mine."

“Yeah, okay - sure - that feels really fucking good.” 

Sana's orgasms always start slow; a slight adjustment of her hips, the rub of one calf against the other, she's never been the quiet type but there's not quite the screaming or yelling just yet. Her jaw is set.

"You're, uh-," she adds, failing at anything else.

Miyeon tries for it. That edge of danger; not in pain or frustration, but, "there you go, sweetie: you sound so fucking pretty when you're worked up. Just tell us - the words, we need the words to make it good, baby."

"Fine," says Sana, tilting her head down, breathing deeply, and she makes a sound that's neither a whimper nor a laugh, but a crossroads of both. "Right there, oh my god, you are so fucking dangerous, holy shit. Oh, please. Please. You two- just, please, don't you dare- just a little bit - mmm. Why do you have to be so good at that?"

"Right?" Miyeon laughs out loud - like you're the one missing a vital point, like it's your fault your face is buried in her folds. “I used to think guys just didn’t like doing it. And then, well-"

And you drag your tongue flat and up over her pussy, right through that whole slicked up slit, your fingers still pumping in and out, and then you flick it just hard enough to-

"-yeah," she huffs, panting.

Miyeon presses her thumb into the mess of Sana's cunt, and it causes Sana's whole body to shudder apart - you lift your face to breathe, or to promise, "we can go for hours if you want, taking turns making you cum," before pressing into her again, and Sana's only got so much patience and stamina when you're two steps ahead of the curve, because her legs are practically going to wobble off her body.

"Poor, pretty baby," Miyeon murmurs against her, and she's talking like she’s taken all the control now. Operating in that cycle of push and pull.

And to her point: Sana is whining, gasping - every bit as hot and bothered and needy. She's whispering please and not giving up her requests.

"Fuck. Okay, sorry-” she apologizes. For some reason.

Your nose keeps getting bumped, her cunt is grinding down into your chin. That is fine. If it keeps on like this, your whole face will be soaking wet.

"I'm going to just- going to go ahead and cum, I think- so fucking. Yeah, keep on going just like, shit, please: my pussy is fucking throbbing."

This is the easy part, if you've read the rest right. If the hours and the minutes, and all the passing days: you know which direction the pieces are about to fall.

Sana arches her spine, rolls her hips into your face, and when you swirl your tongue all over the wet heat at her core, the sound she makes is music: low, throaty and delicate. Your mouth is attached to her clit still when you look up over the hand you have steadying each tremble in her diaphragm. And possibly as a sort of vengeful maneuver, Miyeon is shoving two fingers under your jaw and far enough into Sana's pussy that each curl of a knuckle is all that’s left to find Sana cumming right onto your mouth, your chin. 

She wants to scream, to cry out, but her mouth joins her face, in that frozen expression of anguish, of an absolute that perfect pleasure.

"Shh, shh, it's okay," Miyeon consoles, standing up, leaning in - close, really, impossibly close; she presses their foreheads together, murmuring against Sana's ear, whispering what-do-you-need, there you go. Baby, that was perfect. They each know the song and dance. They can shamelessly recite each other's lines. Miyeon slides an arm to the small of Sana's back, one across her shoulders, and Sana leans against her with this gorgeous look of a perfect, mind-numbing orgasm on her face, her eyes bright, her lashes fluttering - a sheen of sweat across her forehead; your stomach falls and bottoms out; you can't not be fucking attracted to these two. Miyeon smooths down her hair, reassuring her. Her hand reaches lower, wraps around her, pulls.

The bath is well filled at this point, water near overflowing, and Sana is equally fucking soaked. This storm of wet and hot beneath your lips. You clean her off with the broad stroke of your tongue and don't spill a drop, because the noise she's making - it sounds like rapture, ecstasy. She's half-delirious, panting, with her hands gripping the sides of your head.

"Where," she gasps, trying her damnedest. You have the best girls in the world, you really fucking do. Miyeon rubs the heel of her palm against the soaked, red hood of her cunt. Sana lets out a sound halfway between a gasp and a groan; the arch of her hips chasing Miyeon's touch; "you, are you two - god damn, if I hadn't already-"

"Shhh. My poor girl. You're not thinking about his cock just yet," and those are Miyeon's slender fingers coaxing your jaw free from Sana's cunt, prying her free from you so she can sit alone at her throne. "They always keep lube in these kind of places," Miyeon reaches into a drawer, fumbling about. It takes a moment for it to register that she's actually talking to you. "It usually looks like some body oil, you know the nice massage kind, in these tiny bottles. Help me look, will you?"

It does not take long - hotel management understands what these rooms are for. The scandal and the romance and everything in between. Because Miyeon finds what she’s looking for in the next drawer down: a sample-sized container of massage oil, something slippery and organic. It smells vaguely of lavender.

"Look at me," Miyeon tells you, and Sana is absolutely listening along too. It's all very seamless: Sana and then Miyeon. All the synchronized parts. Their signals have some sort of feedback even if you're not always actively aware of the things they pass back and forth.

Miyeon guides Sana onto her shaky legs, turns her toward you - So you swallow, hard, and run your thumbs into the crease of her ass - you're kneeling, still, still totally naked and wet all around the jaw. "Eat her ass, and I'll keep her cumming until she can't feel anything else."

You shift your weight and run a kiss along the tender skin at the back of Sana’s thigh. The contact has her bracing a hand on the counter for support.

“And then-” Miyeon says, with a gleam in her eyes like she knows what the fuck she wants. She slides back down to the floor until Sana is pinned between a rock and a hard place. Her two favorite people in the world: namely, your hands gripping Sana's hips, and Miyeon's tongue all over the aching little clit you'd just had your mouth wrapped around moments ago.

"And then?" you provide, hovering a kiss onto the beautiful round of Sana's ass. Her fucking cheek. You have to slap it. Just a little. And when you watch it ripple back and forth with your handprint there, a spot of pink already blooming, well, she has to be giving you a sultry look that demands to know when it is exactly that you are going to stick your cock inside of her, and it is absolutely just impossible to look anywhere else.

"And then," Miyeon supplies, "we're going get that beautiful cock in her ass so you can fuck her brains to mush."

"Thanks I guess, for the explicit permission," you scoff, and here you drop your lips, trail them into the crack of Sana's ass, up and down, teasing the taut stretch of her hole with the tip of your tongue.

"Someone has to take responsibility for-," she pulls on Sana's leg and stretches it forward, repositions her ever so slightly. She sucks Sana's clit into her mouth with an exaggerated sort of satisfaction.

You wait for Miyeon to continue, and then realize with the unshakeable notion: she isn't going to, because it's too damn much trouble. There is no reason to pull apart the premise and not the girl straddled between your faces. The only option is to follow her lead, and to worship Sana. To trace every crevice of her, lick between her ass and the sensitive, clenching heat of her pussy.

"Can we, like, take a timeout-" Sana's mouth is slurring into the skin of her forearm. Her upper thighs are quaking, quivering as you sink your teeth in. Her head's gone all heavy as a slutty little moan rings out and straight down her lungs.

And maybe the realization is setting in. You and Miyeon are going to fuck her until you all can't think - until you're nothing but primal urges, nothing but bodies with beating, pounding hearts; and every thought in Sana's head will be to the two of you; to Miyeon, whose hand finds the front of Sana's stomach and guides her pelvis into rolling forward and grinding into her mouth, to you, with your tongue lathering and lapping at her asshole, and running your hands around her hips until her whole body's shaking, "oh fuck, my god-" 

(The writing is on the wall. You and Miyeon are going to fuck her until none of you know where you end, where the other begins.)

Sana tries again, and the question ends in a deep, rumbling, "don't you want, Miyeon, wouldn't you rather just really, fucking love, having his thick cock stretch you apart," - she swallows - and when she glances behind her back and finds you watching her, there is just pure, unadulterated arousal burning through her eyelashes, over the flare of her ass.

You catch the fucking bow of her lower lip wobbling as she adds, a little more pointed and a lot more determined, "when you're, fuck, begging and screaming for his load? To be his cumdump, his little bitch," it's like she's got her heart set, and her mouth can't stop moving fast enough, and "to do whatever he wants just because it makes you look and feel so damn hot?"

You can hear Miyeon's mouth smacking with the way it works, the way she is swallowing, gasping. You can hear the sound she makes when her mouth goes loose, and says, agreeing, "you're going to love it Sana, every god-damn-inch, you always do" and Sana is falling apart again into your grip, moaning, and then "it's so much better. All the stretch, that tightness. But she needs your fingers first.

You can hear Sana gasping too, dripping a mess into the place where her pussy and ass meet. Miyeon licks a wide strip from her core all the way up and kisses it. Lick. Kiss, lick - her hands pulling Sana closer by the hip - kiss, kiss, lick - pulling her mouth around your girl's clit. So close to the place in Sana's bubbly cheeks, where your mouth supplies long sucks and soft kisses - so close you can practically taste the scented flavor in Miyeon's lip gloss.

"I can't- shit. Hold on, guys," Sana whispers. It's her nails scraping against the granite. "You need to-" and then the loud, dull thwap of her knee knocking into the cabinet. 

She's cumming again - this time, loud and guttural, but another really beautiful sound - her cunt pulsing hard into nothing while the air hangs in limbo, Miyeon's tongue circling her clit, your palms around Sana's beautiful, round ass. You're half convinced they'd be fine with being locked away in some tower. Forget the world and its obligations. Or, rather: let the world stop spinning; leave only this.

There is not much talking from then on. 

Mostly whining, whimpers and pleas to: not stop, yes, there, yes, please, fuck, and Miyeon wraps her fingers around you - almost the same thing she did when you were pumping your cum into her quivering cunt earlier, asking, please, may I-?

Sana bends herself over the counter, like something instinctual. The perfect bend and arch in her spine, the bow of her knees and the press of her thighs. Inviting, pleading. You can feel the tingle, the stiff tension in the muscles, when you reach out and lift her ass; it gives so easily to your touch. Your palm, her cheeks. There's a beautiful flush as the pink starts to run, fade, and reappear along her back, and - fuck, okay, seriously-

Miyeon's there, kneeling next to you: stroking her fingers up your length. She’s kissing you too. It’s hard to think.

But the sound of the cap coming off the bottle comes like an alarm clock, pulling you out of a dream.

Miyeon sits on her heels, smiling into the press of your lips as the bottle she procured tips out. Clear, viscous and smooth into her palm. When it becomes a lot of dripping; she swirls it against your cock - her knuckles wrapped around you, running and twisting into every curve, sliding her whole grip with long, calculated strokes.

"I don't think she's in any condition to keep a tally," Miyeon announces, "so, why don't you decide?"

"Meaning?" you're panting; your brain keeps working to formulate complete thoughts.

"Meaning," she slips her tongue against yours, slides her teeth and draws into your lower lip, "you should totally pound her gorgeously tight little ass" - another kiss, mostly on your lower lip; almost a bite - "and then you should dump that massive load of yours" - a shudder rolls through her shoulder and leaves a whisper in her wake - "right inside mine."

There are about eight thousand words in the English language but what you say is, "fuck."

Because she's right: Sana is blathering the moment you stand up and let your hands reach around, grab hold of her full, rounded hips. She’s not in any state to protest or complain about matters of equality or correspondence. Her lips and tongue are barely even fit to say anything but yes-yes-please-anything, oh god.

Which, okay, whatever: of course, whatever the fuck she needs - whatever they need - you pull at her hips until it's there, your cock sandwiched between those full, warm ass-cheeks, the perfect amount of pressure to get you so fucking hot, and Sana's not shy about rolling her hips to keep you pressed to the surface, rocking into your balls until her cunt's making slick, wet, hungry noises and she's just one endless, groaning moan.

"Love feeling your cock," Sana mutters; and there is a, "please, fuck me, baby- please?" thrown in for good measure.

"Please do, you're like - you're like ridiculously gifted," Miyeon adds, always the right touch of caustic.

"-please."

Sana's eloquence is short lived, because the second you give her ass a squeeze and Miyeon presses her thumb against Sana's cunt, her voice catches on her throat.

She sounds perfectly winded, completely out of breath, a tiny, sexed-up growl running through the notes as she speaks to her reflection in the mirror. Miyeon laughs. She can hardly get her own shit together when you lean up and grab a breast in hand, or start leaving slow-but-steady bite marks along the back of her shoulder blades; like it's all-too funny when you pin Sana to the counter until she starts to beg in that please, please, please tone: when every syllable and gasp is hitched and short.

"She doesn't want gentle," Miyeon tuts, finding her place next to Sana, holding her chin in her hands and catching the expression on her face. She presses a thumb into Sana's mouth for no reason other than: they're so soft. Wet. Pink and full, parted around her fingertip. "Isn't that right, baby?"

Your gaze follows their hips, swaying. And from this angle: identical. The hair, the jawline, the arch of the throat and shoulders, the elegant twist and fold of their limbs, the eyes, the blush, the smile, and the legs. They don't have to look exactly the same: their presence is near identical - Miyeon's the cuter one, sure. It's been established, but fuck, the look on Sana's face as you spread her asshole with just a finger is fucking dangerous. You're going to lose your mind. Both the flat tummies and the beautiful breasts and their matching hard nipples - and the fucking two best asses the world has ever seen. A line up over the counter: Miyeon and Sana, side by side; their reflections looking at you in tandem, wearing these same expressions. The eyes begging, asking and insisting, the pouting lower-lip and the glassy sheen of their eyelashes.

You tell them: "how am I supposed to" - you run the thick-glistening head of your cock along the pucker of Sana’s tight ass, grind your hips into the friction - "focus when you two look at me like that?”

"Um, just give up," says Miyeon, grinning; and then, when your jaw snaps closed and there's the obvious shift of your hips as your length strains through your body's need and pulls you closer to that incredible, tight, dark hole: "god, there you go. That is so fucking hot."

So, it's just like this:

They watch each other. The mirror is right there; every want, every motion. 

And then, yeah, a low and throaty, "is that it?" - Sana nods into Miyeon's hand and smiles, with just the slightest hint of something that could resemble a blush - "why we always come back to him? Because, really-"

"Mmm." Sana hums agreement, dazed and drunk in her words, the slow breath of air you push out of her chest as your cock starts to sink in; the deeper the intrusion, the lower your names become - just murmurs and sighs and sounds: "god, yes, god-"

Her pussy starts to drip onto the tiles, her slick collecting at Miyeon's knees as Sana takes you all the way: and you hold, once you're all the way in; once that gorgeous little puckered rim has stretched around your entire width; there's just the smell of the room; lavender and rose and citrus - Sana's endless arousal - and you hold, and hold on tight - and your muscles shiver as Sana draws the first rocking motion of her hips.

The smallest, lightest grind.

"Jesus fucking christ," you curse, because the heat around your cock is excruciatingly tight. A slow-burning, tingling-aching pleasure as the flesh inside Sana's ass moves up and down the length, drawing out inch by inch of skin - until your entire cock is nearly pulled out.

You're the one that drives all the way back in.

Sana gasps. She runs her hand through her hair. She tries her damndest to remember what words are, clearly coming up empty.

"Baby." Miyeon is kissing her forehead, her nose, her lips, and coos praises in her ear. She sinks her fingers into the curve of Sana's immaculate ass, pulling on the soft cheek, showing-

You are speechless. It's just: that next stroke. And another. Your cock slipping in and out with each pass, so easy once Sana sighs, licks her lips and leans into your rhythm, there, all at once and then faster. And she looks in the mirror, because of course; of course she watches Miyeon run her hand all over her front, the perfect tits and a pretty stomach - your thrusting keeps up until every thrust has her hips rolling forward and snapping back, chasing her own momentum; chasing that thick, hard, stretch of cock and that beautiful pleasure-pain as the force and pace rocks her, pounds her so her entire body has to curl against Miyeon's chest for support, so that she's going a little weak in the knees.

"How is he?" Miyeon's tone gets wicked in these situations, a lot less innocent. She gets excited, giddy. "Pretty, handsome, stupidly attractive," her voice picks up a playful lilt, and she gets you grinning - it's only the start. "And he's all yours. But how's the cock, huh? He's gaping your ass so pretty. Your hole is so fucking open around him. It looks incredible, doesn't it?"

Sana reaches for the side of her ass, presses her fingertips to her skin: pulls and splits a fingernail into the tender flesh where her ass and thigh meet - right above her cunt. You snap your hips into hers and watch your cock disappear. Every motion gives, slurps and sucks until you're hilted inside her.

"Feels, mmmm - fuck." Her chest is fluttering, every part of her so fucking flushed, her blood running beneath the surface so every single inch of her skin is saturated with her own need, her want.

"Feels so good," you growl, your vision gone dark around the edges. Miyeon's there, vaguely, smirking into Sana's jaw, licking at the sweat, scraping her teeth along the skin to bite down, pull- "she's so fucking tight. Gripping the hell out of my cock. Like, it feels unbelievable, you know."

"Babe," she cries, though you give her no respite - you use that little sliver of slack and pull out far enough that she'll know it when your cock is hammering into her ass, a little more aggressive, and you start with quick, hard pumps that echo throughout the room - not for your pleasure or hers: just to hear it, listen, you're driving up so far into that perfect, gorgeous ass that it sends her tits rocking and rolling with every bounce of her chest; her moans, her babbling incoherence, are, again - it's like a drug - and Miyeon's smiling. And also, getting herself off.

"So pretty," Miyeon says into her temple, "with his cock fucking open your ass." And she has her fingers swirling, swirling, in little patterns around her cunt, grazing over a wet clit, like the way you're pounding Sana's ass and dismantling her whole consciousness is absolutely the most arousing thing ever, like Miyeon could stay and watch forever, like Sana's the most beautiful person in the world, and Miyeon would be right here with her every second - whispering praise in her ears - "god, babe, if I could, I would never pull his cock out. You take him so well, don't you? You're just made for it. He could stretch you out over and over and we could, you know - be fucked silly - no thinking - for, like, forever. All day long."

Sana's fingers claw, gripping at the bowl of the sink, while Miyeon has her hand glued to her clit, playing herself.

Miyeon doesn't wait - but she asks anyway - and of course: she's leaning up, in, nuzzling Sana and saying: "yes?"

"So," is all Sana gets out before gasping, because the sight, it's too much to not let yourself feel a little power drunk, and there is a sudden thrust that practically turns the poor girl's voice into a croak. "Yes. Fuck - fuck-"

You don't really have any clue where this is coming from but: "Miyeon, here, take this cock. Come get what's yours you fucking cocktease," and, whatever - who needs thoughts? Your girlfriend's already bent over the bathroom counter, your fingers holding the smooth curves of her ass apart, her beautiful body opened all up and pink.

Miyeon ruffles her hair as she finds the perfect angle, knees knocked up against the drawers, and she's got more oil spread onto her own puckered rim.

You know your girls: Sana is desperate for your cock, Miyeon lives to be used.

"I love how fucking cock-drunk she gets," Miyeon laughs, and then - the moment you've shifted from one gorgeous hole to the other - her mouth slackens, her eyelashes flutter: "shit. Holy - didn't really realize- oh wow."

"Kinda distracting?" you tease, knowing full well you're just going to lose your own words; watching a gorgeous ass swallow your cock; being told to keep giving and take, just as much: the warmth in your own core, your cunt, clenching hard - an aching pulse - the excitement coursing through your veins and this, this whole sensation of being connected: your bodies, all-encompassing and present, three whole units, joining at the hips, being forced back together-

"-you feel fucking, so tight. That's how the fucking joke goes, right?" Miyeon manages: to talk, still, even with a cock in her ass and your teeth and tongue painting pretty marks up the ridges of her spine.

Sana is catching her breath, brushing her fingers through her hair staring wistfully.

"Gives you two so much to talk about."

"Now don't even start- I really like it, alright."

Sana gives her ass the worst slap but your balls hit her cunt on the following thrust. Miyeon's so fucking tight you can barely breath. And her laughter tinkers off into a very pretty string of obscene moans from the way your cock spears into her, all at once: the flat, wet, throbbing sounds of a tight ass taking a thick cock without stopping, stretching and sliding with an increasing ease the longer it goes on for, until you're snapping your hips so far forward they're slapping Miyeon's ass and gripping, squeezing the round shape of her waist; until the movements are just you, the heavy weight of your balls against the hot wet skin between her legs.

And god damn it, she's got to start with:

"Forgot how much you stretch me, Jesus - baby, it is a really gorgeous cock you've got," - and that is when it hits, and her hands fist up, trying to grab at something, anything: "oh my god."

"You are such a whore," Sana laughs, but not unkind, because Miyeon can only grin in response, with your cock pounding out into the red-hot, clenched walls of her asshole. And then: a nice, hearty sigh.

You find yourself asking, almost by impulse, "isn't she, uh, tight. God."

And, fuck: you were thinking how insane it is you two ever managed without the third party. How now, not fucking Sana and Miyeon's glorious, matching asses side-by-side would drive you fucking crazy, and maybe that's why it's really the best news. How when your cock slips out of one ass, and slowly nuzzles into the other - how when you all three watch the pretty faces in the mirror twist and turn into a look of such pure fucking bliss - you just sort of-

"Oh."

That's Sana: with Miyeon pressed chest-first over the marble counter, Miyeon's cheek and nose flush against her face, their arms twisted, bodies crossed at the wrist and wrist - their skin shiny-red with exertion. They're the closest possible position: mirror images of the other, and - with the slightest push -

And it's pretty. It's fucking, you know.

"Perfect," you groan. "This is it. Look at you, the both of you - god - it's like. It's not normal to be as beautiful as the two of you are. Right. So, you know-"

"Hey," Sana is a little faster on the uptake when you're fucking Miyeon and her ass within an inch of dying, "your face. You look like you're close, are you close baby?"

The blood's starting to sing in your ears. Miyeon's forehead keeps bouncing into Sana's - their sweat, mixing, her skin peppered and blotchy pink from where she's gotten a little bit lost in her own head, her hips moving of their own accord, her body tensing, relaxing. You can read all of her movements, recognize her signals: the way she moans louder than usual, the way her cunt trembles against you, the way her ass squeezes, holds, lets go-

You pull out. Just to keep yourself from blowing, just to pull on your balls, to look and watch the perfect view. And Sana reaches back - a warm hand wrapped around you.

You feel her palm wrap around your cock, coaxing another serving of oil - like she knows just how rough it's going to be to start again.

"Just," she pants, leaning into Miyeon so you have to rut around to find your way back, "until the end."

There's something so pleasantly mind-numbing about the moment when you ease your cock into the sweet-soft ring of muscles again and she's just stretching and pulsing and grabbing all around you. The way you keep going: she's holding herself, giving her asshole a squeeze, a stretch - her lips kiss a sound onto the side of Miyeon's shoulder and she nods, gasps, breathes out heavy and pained, like the rest: a total fucking rush.

You watch Miyeon lean further, a beautiful shift of balance between the two. Her hands clamp around the sides of Sana's thighs for support, and the longer you pound into her, the deeper your cock sinks, the closer the pressure becomes as their heads turn in, looking to the same place, their foreheads knocking, and-

"Knees," you growl. You're holding your cock in your first - demanding: "Get on your fucking knees."

Sana smiles first. Then Miyeon. And when the lipstick smears against their cheeks, you don't have it in you anymore to think clearly. The line between your imagination and your fantasy is so blurred: you want their mouths moaning into eachother. You want Miyeon to clean the taste from Sana's lips. You want those cunts grinding, their clits making contact, and for one of them - fuck-

So: "I need the both of you."

And it's your name falling off of Sana's tongue when the tops of her shins hit the tile floor - she's kneeling, she's pulling Miyeon by her waist until the three of you have converged into this beautiful, glistening, open-mouthed trio. Sana kisses Miyeon hard while you cum all over the image: the contrast of their soft, wet, hot tongues against one another while your harsh grip pumps along your slick, throbbing length. It feels like a knot unraveling, a tension snapping loose, your cum landing on their cheekbones, their temples, between their lips - It's a long, slow roll through the valley of your abs - Miyeon licking into Sana's panting mouth and swiping through the streak of white you just pumped out into her fucking hair; the messy collision of lips, swallows, tongues; the faint, slow sounds, the slickness-

"Look," she breathes. You can hear the way their words hitch when their fingers hook eachother, guiding through the mess across their skin, dipping through the sticky cum, circling the plush pout of their bottom lips; and it's Sana that grabs Miyeon by the wrist, bringing her hand forward; sucking, running her mouth in a lazy path all across the width, "that's all, fuck, I need to. Wanna taste all of it."

You just groan.

Miyeon is slumped into the lacework of Sana's limbs, swapping the tastes between her tongue and the space of their breath; while her own thumb caresses the raw, stretched opening of her ass. Sana whispers things, incoherencies, into Miyeon's hair: kisses at her temple, strokes the muscles of Miyeon's back. Feeling how they shiver, they heave, they fall - exhausted and flushed in the heat of one-another's embrace. She licks the words across Miyeon's cheek and follows with her nose trailing Miyeon's jaw, and your cum's smearing a streak onto Miyeon's bottom lip, before their tongues have tangled themselves into another messy, well-fucked kind of collision.

"Good girls," you mumble, kissing Miyeon's knuckles, and helping Sana to her feet.

Your legs are a lot less shaky than either the two of theirs, but it's okay, you pick Miyeon up and set her on the sink; and then turn on the tap for the both of them, since they'd need a wash and some salve.

"Now, what?" says Sana. She's smiling; a washcloth at the ready; some dribble of soap from the bottle.

Miyeon gives her a smirk from over her shoulder, turning away just enough to flip her hair; the ends brush across her jaw. It's a cute little quirk of the eyebrow; the upward twinge to the corner of the lip; it's a motion that knows every muscle, every detail.

"Depends," says Miyeon, sharpening up her tone just the littlest bit, "the bath looks like a tight fit for all three of us but," and there it is - the mischievous glint; the curve in her hips, her mouth, and, of course - you notice the way her eyes drop to the stiffness of your cock. The way her voice purrs, all light, but a lot more intent: "Did you see the shower? It's absolutely gigantic."

"I saw the detachable head," Sana throws out. A teasing little comment, one you remember - that sends a pretty deep shudder down your stomach and thighs. Your cock twitches, hard and - okay, good thing Miyeon booked the room for a week and then some. The view is pretty great: watching your cock get rock-solid in under five seconds. Watching them kiss the same knowing look, sharing the private joke. Watching their hips swing, watching them slide the glass door: Miyeon in front and Sana from behind.

It's in unison that they both turn over their shoulder and ask, "won't you help us test it out?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'll be right there." You shake your head, "so thirsty," even though, you know you're equally to blame.

-

It's that tiny whisper of "don't look at me like you don't have cum in weird places either, hm?" that Sana gives you, while Miyeon is washing her hair, rubbing and sliding along the locks. "I'll help you with the spots that are hard to reach, come here."

It's that little, meaningful, mischievous curl in Miyeon's lip when the water's pouring, and your breath falls across her skin. The way her hands reach out for you, even when Sana takes her chin and plants a firm, messy kiss across her mouth. It's the same gesture Miyeon's making, using Sana's forearm for support. How she runs the palm of her other hand along the back of Sana's thighs, slipping and pressing forward to guide, nudge. She pulls Sana onto her toes, aligning their bodies. It's in the little laughs they share, the wet smacks of lips, the soft little hums they make when tongues slip over, into the open.

It's here too, that you first ever get them confused, just a momentary slip up of "Sana, could you grab the towel-" or some equivalent, when you glance away at the perfect wrong moment and you're left just a little puzzled, still mostly entranced by the sight of the steam on the glass and their fingertips drawing patterns into it as they lean in for another kiss, or a moan-

"Oh," Miyeon says, delighted, "I'm supposed to be her, right?"

They're fucking-

Sana is less enthused. "Stop. I do not. Am not."

- identical.

"Look, I didn't mean-"

Miyeon laughs to cut you off and skips the argument. She winks, and somehow that makes it worse.

It's there too, the look of regret when your fingertips curl into the skin of her breast, your thumbs a tease against the rigid nubs of her nipples and the texture of her pretty stomach. They don't realize how much you really love their matching expressions. So, they don't mind the mixup, and besides: you just follow Sana's guiding hands and let your lips ghost-kiss, so gently across Miyeon's thigh. It's impossible to imagine a version that isn't one and the other, the two of them, here, with you: sharing kisses, offering the gentlest, slowest exploration, teasing and tugging a gasp of a response.

"Hey," Miyeon muses, "does that mean you'll keep your cock warm in me once we go to bed and feed me a steady stream of ice cubes between all the sessions, mm?"

Sana raises her head in faux offense and drops back into the comfort of Miyeon's thighs. "Jeez-us christ," Sana huffs; "one day with him and she thinks she's me. Have mercy."

"She isn't?" you ask.

Sana sighs. "Um. Not even close."

Miyeon beams at the both of you. She even runs her fingers through Sana's hair, doting - affectionate. "She'll come around to the idea eventually, don't worry. Until then I'm more than happy to take on the role. It can't be that hard, yeah? Just to be all - naughty-sexy-sweet-oh, look, a surprise, i’m actually ready to get fucked six ways to sunday-"

-you get an eyeful of whatever they are doing, this time just, fucking-

Sana only says, "it'll have to take an exceptional amount of patience on both your parts."

-gorgeous, lewd, completely fucking filthy.

"I got a lot, babe."

The second Sana opens her mouth, it's followed with: "pfffht."

It's just, who wouldn't give them whatever they want? Whatever they ask? There's a list out there: no doubt the both of them, gagging. Throat-deep. In their little skirts. Panties. Naked and straddled, just, across their hands. One, maybe. Or both all the same, or still a different preference. One behind the other and taking turns. Something - and this is important, here:

"Look," they say, eyes wide up at you and blinking - on the same fucking beat no less, "you can trust us, okay?"

(Gentleman and distinguished scholars: the list, by the way, only ever gets longer.)

[mingwrites]

I’m not sure if you have done this but can you do something about how ateez will feel after a concert or especially Coachella, all h.rny and all js being very dominant? (I love your work btw, I think it’s very true to them)

hello there, first of all thank u so much for the compliment thats so sweet 🥺 and second i really hope u enjoy~!

ateez after a concert

seonghwa ~ it was a hot night, as evident by the sweat stains soaking through seonghwa's low-cut tank. backstage, he dashed around the room, panting as he repeated, "where's my y/n? where's my y/n?" you didn't even care that he looked insane. you ran to him and he scooped you up in a big hug, lifting you off your feet. "you guys were so good," you cheered, holding the tired, sweaty man as close as possible. seonghwa set you down but held both of your hands in his. “thanks, baby,” he smiled warmly, leaning in to kiss you. you pecked him on the lips, about to pull away when you felt his hand comb through your hair, pulling your lips closer to his. your stomach filled with butterflies at seonghwa’s command and you happily submitted to him, leaning into his touch. his lips searched desperately for an entrance into yours, and you obliged him, parting your lips as his tongue came flooding into your mouth. with a mind of their own, your legs backed you up against the wall and seonghwa followed closely. his hips crashed into yours when you collided with the wall, causing both of you to moan at the sudden pressure. you laughed into the kiss and seonghwa finally pulled away to look at you. “what’s gotten into you?” you asked. seonghwa was breathing hard and stared at you with heavy eyelids. “i just…really need you.” a ping of arousal shot between your legs and you responded, "let's get out of here."

hongjoong ~ his ride raced across the city, headed for his hotel. unfortunately for both of you, the 15-minute ride was just a little too long. you sat impatiently in the back seat beside your lover, his hand on your thigh. you held his hand tight as your legs subconsciously squeezed together, relieving a little bit of the heat in your clit. hongjoong's tongue was exploring your mouth, meanwhile your free hand crept its way toward his lap. he moaned lewdly when you landed on his hard dick, a raw, vulnerable quality in his voice as if he hadn't been touched in ages. "that's it, darling," he whispered, "go on, touch." you glanced to make sure the driver wasn't snooping before undoing hongjoong's pants and wrapping your hand around his bare skin. "good girl," he sighed, his head falling back on the headrest. he fit snugly in your hand, the feeling of his veins and sight of his red, leaking head causing your legs to tingle. you pumped him just a few times before the car came to a stop. “we’re here, mr. kim."

yunho ~ practically running through the revolving hotel door, you giggled along with your boyfriend as you held tight his large hand. you headed straight for the elevator, the wetness pooling between your legs in preparation for the night ahead. yunho pressed a button and the elevator doors closed. then he immediately turned to you and pressed you against the wall, his hand finding your jaw and pulling you to him as his lips made a mess of yours. you moaned when his hand trailed down to your chest, grabbing a handful of squishy flesh and massaging your taut nipple. then his hand drifted lower, sneaking past the waistband of your pants and underwear, where he found your soaked and swollen sex. he smirked into his kiss as he dipped his finger inside, coating it in your arousal before rubbing a few tentative circles on your clit. you swore your legs almost gave out at the sensation. he made you moan a few times before sliding back inside, now hooking his fingers into your sweet spot and stroking it gently. the elevator made a ding and yunho pulled away from the kiss. he looked down at you and said, "i'm gonna make this pussy all mine."

yeosang ~ you collapsed onto the hotel mattress and yeosang wasted no time before reaching for your zipper. he freed you of your bottoms, the cool air hitting your already messy pussy. then he kneeled on the floor, pulling you toward the edge of the bed so your pussy was right in front of his face. "i love you," he said, not giving you a second to respond before taking the breath right out of you. his warm, soft tongue licked a slow stripe from your sopping entrance to the tip of your clit, causing your legs to instinctively close around his head. he groaned at the feeling of your thighs against his warm cheeks then gently pushed them back toward the mattress. you ran a hand through his hair, messy and a little damp with sweat from performing. he continued rubbing his tongue against your clit, switching every so often between quick flicking motions and long, sucking kisses. it was the sucking, along with the deep sounds of satisfaction yeosang made that got you off so damn quickly. your legs closed again, and this time he let them, sticking his tongue out for you to grind against as you rode the waves of orgasm. when you finally looked down at his gorgeous face between your legs, he said, "i was waiting all night to do that."

sannie ~ "go ahead, pretty girl," he said, one hand around his massively hard dick and the other in your hair, "suck it." you obediently opened wide, sticking your tongue out just to drive san crazy. saliva dripped down your tongue which made san moan, his hand guiding his dick to your lips. "so hungry for me, aren't you, babe?" you wrapped your lips around the head of his cock and moaned in response to his question. san's head rolled back and he let out a deep groan, his hips twitching a little at the feeling of your warm, tight mouth. with his hand on the back of your head, he gently urged you down the length of his dick, an action you didn't resist. you leaned all the way in until he poked at the back of your throat, when he let out a satisfied moan, then you went a little further. "that's a good girl," he praised, his hips beginning to move on their own, fucking your mouth slowly. you continued to suck on him dutifully, stroking him with a flat tongue and letting him use you how he wanted.

mingi ~ you lied on your belly with your ass up in the air, your pussy an empty hole just waiting to be filled. mingi got positioned behind you, his hands around your waist and his huge dick standing tall just inches from where you needed it. he was inches from where he needed to be, too, both of you throbbing and dripping with desire. you swore you could have cried when the head of his dick finally penetrated you, and you almost did when his girth stretched you fully, his veiny skin pressing against your sweet spot. you moaned in harmony as mingi bottomed out, his hands pulling your ass flush with his belly. you could feel him bulging through your stomach, but couldn't bask in the feeling for long as mingi's hips began to move rapidly, his dick pounding into you again and again, always hitting your sweet spot. you shoved your face into the mattress, your hands gripping fistfuls of bedsheets, as you were fucked into oblivion. you couldn't hold back the lewd sounds you made, bordering on screams and sobs, while mingi let out deep-voiced growls behind you. "love your sweet little pussy," he said, staring down at where he disappeared inside you. "all mine."

wooyoung ~ he rolled over on his back, groaning out of impatience during the few moments he wasn't inside you. you hurried along, repositioning his dick at your entrance and slowly sliding down. you sat on his pelvis, his dick throbbing inside you, but didn't move yet, instead taking the time to lean back and circle your clit with your finger. wooyoung quickly pulled your hand away, hissing at you, "don't tease me. and let me rub this." you giggled at his temper but obeyed his demands, letting his thumb pick up rubbing messy circles into your clit, and rolling your hips backward, forward. wooyoung quickly became a symphony of sounds, moaning when you bounced on his dick and whining when you slowed down. his thumb kept up its diligent work on your clit, each circle and swipe drawing you closer to the edge. wooyoung was panting, his eyes fluttering shut as he focused in on the pleasure. he said to you in a breathy voice, "gonna make you cum all over me. my sweet y/n."

jongho ~ he had you on your back, his large, muscular body forcing your legs apart. you moaned like a helpless animal as his thick length pummeled you, filling you up over and over. his powerful arms were on either side of your head, his fingers interlocked with yours. you whined as he fucked you, "please, jongho, don't stop... it feels so good..." he laughed breathily at your needy tone, speaking in your ear, "it's okay, sweetheart... i won't stop." in response to your desperate plea, his hips began to move a little faster, still hitting that perfect spot inside you. soon after, you felt the familiar tight, tingly feeling in your tummy. "jong-! oh..." your muscles tensed repeatedly around him as you came, a few more thrusts into that tightness causing jongho to reach his high in time with you. he dropped his head in the crook of your shoulder and his hips slowed to a stop as you felt his warm seed paint your walls. he lifted his head only to kiss you - a sloppy, lazy kiss in between heavy breaths. he placed his index finger underneath your chin and lifted it so you could face him. then he whispered, "you're such a good girl."

[littlemiss-yeehaw]

You're Gonna Be Quiet

Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Summary: It's just an undercover mission, anyone could be married for one night - even you two.

Warnings: profanity, flirting, yucky old men, suggestive content (?), possessive Bucky <3

MINORS PLS DNI

Word Count: 2.2k

A/N: y'all.... im not an author. im an artist, not an author, so PLS go into this with that knowledge. but I have been convinced, no, coerced into posting this little funsy by @ellemj

she threatened to withhold vacation pictures from me as if I didn't draw her bucky barnes dick earlier today and I'll be damned

anyways,, please enjoy and manage your expectations :,)

“Okay, rumor has it the target, Mr. Beaumont, has a thing for married women,” Sam says casually as he holds a ring between his thumb and forefinger, “so for this mission, you get to be Mrs. Barnes.”

He tosses the ring in your direction and you catch it with a sour expression. You slip the rock on your finger and admire it, your scowl slipping just a moment as you watch how it catches the sun. That is until you see Bucky with an equally foul look on his face. Suddenly, your frown reappears.

“Sam, I feel like there is certainly someone better suited for this than me,” you grumble as you put your hand down and look back up at him, “I mean, aren’t these undercover missions more of a Natasha thing?”

Sam rolls his eyes before turning to face you, a hand on his hip. You were in for a scolding. “Natasha has her own mission. So today, you get to be Mrs. Hart. And you,” he turns to Bucky with a smug expression, “will be Mr. Hart. Any questions? No? Good, you two lovebirds go get your outfits on.”

You turn quickly, but not quick enough to miss the death stare Bucky shoots Sam. This one seems even more lethal than his typical one.

~~~

The ride to the gala is silent. Bucky is always silent, but this silence seems more… suffocating. You fiddle with the ring on your finger before glancing over at him. “Are you planning to even look at me before we get there? I mean, we’re supposed to be a marri-”

“You’re supposed to be a woman in an unhappy marriage who's looking to fuck a billionaire,” he says bluntly, not even turning towards you, “I’m just making sure that you look plenty unhappy.”

He would never admit out loud that the real reason he won’t spare you a second glance is because the first glimpse of you dolled up sent almost all the blood in his rational mind straight to his cock. He needs to preserve what little sense he has left.

~~~

You get out of the car with a huff. Just as Bucky intended, you look unhappy and thoroughly irritated. You pull the hem of your little black dress down in an attempt to recover some of your dignity, but all Bucky notices is how the little tug causes your breasts to be even more apparent. Yep, there went the rest of the blood.  

He sighs and grabs your hand before plastering a fake smile onto his lips. “Let’s get this over with, shall we?”

You sigh and forget anymore yanking on your dress, looking up at him with a grim expression. “Let's,” you mutter under your breath before letting him lead you into the gala. 

As expected, the event is extravagant and no doubt costly. You feel out of place, and you can’t help the way you move a little further into your ‘husband’s side. You let a breath of air past your lips as you look around the room for your target. Nowhere to be seen, you nearly move further into the room before Bucky squeezes your hand gently and nods to his left. You’re quick to ignore the flutter of butterflies that his touch sends shooting through you and casually look where he’s pointed. Surely enough, at the bar, sits a piggish man nursing a flute of champagne. Your eyes find Buckys and you shoot him a look before you drop his hand and make your way over.

You take a seat a few bar stools down from the man, making sure to fail at getting the bartender's attention. “Sir? Sir, could I-” You drop your hand with a sigh, feigning a disheartened expression.

“Sir, this lady would like a drink,” like a mouse in a trap, Mr. Beaumont waves him down for you and orders you a drink, “you look like you’d drink something fruity, a little thing like you. Maybe a sex on the beach?”

You wish you’d missed the way his lips pulled up in a foul grin and the way his eyebrow raised ever so slightly, and you really wish you hadn’t seen his greedy eyes rake over your body. Nonetheless, a soft laugh and a bat of your lashes grace him instead of the scowl that wants to pull at your lips.

“I’ve never had one before,” you say with a saccharine smile, “maybe we could share.”

You notice how his eyes nearly bug out of his head and then slowly trail to your hand. He slides his fingers, not dissimilar to link sausages, down to your left hand where he trails a thumb over your ring. “Are you sure your husband wouldn’t mind,” he asks with that same vile grin, moving his hand to rest on your knee.

“Not particularly, but I’m sure I don’t care,” you whisper teasingly, leaning forward and showing off your tits that practically beg to fall from your dress. ‘Hook, line, and sinker’ you think as the man runs a heavy hand up the side of your leg and his eyes trail down your neck to your cleavage.

Trembling anger washes over Bucky as he watches the man practically feel you up in the middle of the bar. The beads of perspiration running down the target's neck and the way he keeps nervously licking his lips give Bucky all the indication he needs to know this man thinks you’re his. Then Bucky turns to look at you. You. You’re just letting the man have his way, no, you’re encouraging it. Yes, it’s the mission. And, no, Bucky has no reason to feel such vile hatred for the target in any sense other than the professional one. But for some reason, he finds himself wanting to dismember any part of the man that graces your body where he hasn’t yet.

Yet?

Yet.

~~~

“Who’s this, darling?”

You bristle as you feel a breath of air pass your ear before the deep timbre of Bucky's voice even registers in your mind. You whip around to look at him, an expression of anger and bewilderment replacing the flirtatious grin you were just donning. You look back to the target, trying to mask your surprise.

“Honey,” you manage to say through gritted teeth, “I didn’t even see you come over.”

You pull your hands from the target's grasp, nearly cringing at the moist feeling left behind on your skin. You feel Bucky’s firm hold replace Mr. Beaumont’s slimy touch, and your body reacts all too positively. You lean back hardly at all, but it’s enough to feel his chest rigid against you. Was he standing too close or were you too eager? There was no way to be sure, but one thing you could be sure of was the fact that neither of you shied from the contact.

“Hmm,” he hummed lowly, a disapproving air oozing from the short sound, “when you never brought our drinks over, I got curious as to where you’d disappeared to.”

His eyes shift from the side of your face to the man across from you, who grows increasingly uneasy at the sight of your tall and broad ‘husband’. Bucky leans down close, so close that his lips brush against the curve of your ear and you hope he can’t hear your blood rushing in your head.

“I’ll ask again, who is this?”

You’re not sure if it's what he says, or the way he says it, but his words send a wave of arousal through your body. Suddenly, the too-tiny dress feels too hot and you’ve nearly forgotten his question. That is until he quirks an eyebrow and tilts his head expectantly. You clear your throat and look back to a flustered target, presumably intimidated by your colleague.

“This,” you reply before turning back to the sweaty man, “is Mr. Beaumont. He owns a software company and..”

You turn to the target, a ditsy smile on your lips as you try to recover your role, “what else did you do? I forget.”

He laughs nervously, shifting on his bar stool to make himself appear taller. Still pitiful in comparison to the man currently staring daggers at him over your shoulder. “I develop software and coding for various companies and organizations to use where they deem fit.”

Another low hum sounds from Bucky’s throat as he lifts his head from your ear, he meets Mr. Beaumont's eyes and sighs.

“Very impressive, Mr. B,” he says condescendingly. You frown, peeking over at him. What is he doing? This was not a part of the plan, “so you must be a smart man?”

The man in question smiles smugly and nods. “I’d think so, yes.”

“Well then, pray tell, why have you been feeling up my wife,” he asks coolly, Bucky’s turn to look smug. You, on the other hand, whip around to stare at him with an irate expression. He looks down at you with a matching frown, hardly able to mask his irritation, “Don’t worry, dear, I’ll handle you later.”

You’d like to think you were subtle in your shock, in the way his words leave you flustered. You had no idea Bucky could smell the wave of arousal that flooded your panties, or that he could hear the beat of your heart like a snare drum. Neither of you even noticed the target’s pitiful stuttering, too caught up in the most sexually charged staring contest ever.

~~~

“What the fuck, Barnes,” you hiss quietly, walking ahead of him to the car with steam practically flooding out of your ears, “I mean, what the actual fuck!”

You don’t wait for him to catch up before you get into the passenger seat, slamming the door shut behind you. You didn’t care for appearances, your mission having been sabotaged by your own partner. What appearances did you have left to keep up?

He gets into the driver's seat a few moments later, pulling his gloves off with a sigh before running his flesh hand over his face.

“Are you done?”

“No,” you snap, turning to face him, “I’m not. You have the audacity to call me reckless, but you go and pull a stunt like that? I had it under control.” Your cheeks are red with irritation and your hair is a mess from you running your fingers through it, but he’s too caught up with thinking what else would have you looking so flushed.

“If you’d just shut up and listen-” he starts, but you’re quick to cut him off.

“I was getting the intel,” you’re practically ranting now, “and you just had to swoop in. And for what? To be all macho? To fluster me?”

The scowl on his lips that once matched yours turns into a scoff, and you narrow your eyes at him. Why are you looking at his lips? And why can’t you pull your gaze away from them? “What? What now,” you ask with a huff.

“You really need to learn when to stop talking,” he mutters, looking at you out of the corner of his eye as he tries to wipe the smug smile from his face, “y’know that?”

You’re startled by his words, the flush on your cheeks no longer caused by his irritating actions but by his shocking words. Your eyes travel over him shamelessly, ready to jeopardize everything just to get rid of the tension that has lingered and grown exponentially over the course of the evening.

“Then why don’t you shut me up,” you ask softly, your tone opposite to the defiant one you’d held only moments ago. Judging by the minuscule way his eyes widen and the way his lips part around a sharp inhale, you’d be safe to guess he’d beat you to the idea.

You aren’t sure who moved forward first, or even if you’d moved at all. All you can be sure of is the feeling of Bucky Barnes kissing you like he’d never have the privilege again. 

Your lips move feverishly against his own, the car filled with quiet pants and sloppy smacking. His hands tangle in your hair and he tugs you away from him, his expression turning stern when you whine petulantly. “Did you know you were a fucking brat tonight,” he asks lowly, his stare hard. You swallow thickly, pressing your thighs together to relieve the ache between them.

“I was not,” you rebut, your brows furrowing and your lips turning down in a pout. He didn’t like that.

“You were,” he chides coolly, releasing his grip on your hair and sighing, “especially after we walked back to the car. You never even let me explain why I stopped you.”

You would like to focus on his words, but you’re too worried about the way his metal fingers nimbly undo the buckle of his belt. Silence sweeps over the car, the only sound being your shaky breath and the clank of metal on metal.

“So here’s what we’re gonna do,” he continues, “I’m gonna talk, and you’re gonna listen. Quietly.” You’re salivating as he tugs the zipper of his dress pants down, allowing the tent in his boxers some much-needed reprieve. “You know why you’re gonna be quiet?”

“Why,” you ask in a breathless whisper, only just now meeting his eyes again. 

“Because your mouth is gonna be full."