#thank yew for reading :3

[memory-and-sky]

hey if youre still doing writing requests, could you do hobie helping ftm!reader with dysphoria? maybe helping him fix his hair in a more masc way or helping him voice train

thank you so much for this ask, anon! i love this so so so much :3 i tried my best, i hope you like it!!

word count: ~1.6k

containing: swearing, user is transmasc/ftm, user has dysphoria, hobie is literally the sweetest, i don’t really know how to voice train even though i am transmasc myself xp

the rest of the fic is under the cut!

dysphoria fucking sucks. hobie x ftm!reader

You were rotting away in bed again. Jesus, dysphoria was really kicking your fucking ass. You rolled over, checking the time on your phone. 11:06 AM.

The bedsheets were all hot, as it was a warm, humid day today. You'd been overheating like a dog for awhile now, but you had no real reason to get up.

Until, all of a sudden, you heard a window open, and boots walking in your living room. It was definitely—

"Oi-oi, love? Where are ya?" Hobie.

You quickly jumped up, pulling over a hoodie and pajama pants; your go-to dysphoria outfit, and greet him.

His gaze caught on you, and he looked confused. "Mate, are ya really wearin' tha' in this bloody heat? Yer gonna boil to death, hun." He walked over to you, and ruffled your too-long hair.

"Um.. yeah. I dunno, I kinda don't feel the best right now.. I feel pretty gross," You shoved your hands in the hoodie pocket, already sweating buckets under it.

"Well, yer hair is gettin' t' be quite long, mate. Wouldn't mind cuttin' it, y'know." He began to take his boots off. "'N I'd be plenty chuffed t'help ya with tha'. Jus'... take tha' shit off, love, 's too bloody hot to be doin' allat,"

You shake your head. "I-... I have.. pretty bad dysphoria today. I don't want to see my... my body."

Ah. Yeah, Hobie understands what's happening now. "I see, hun. Why don'tcha wear 'n oversized tee, and them shorts I gave ya?" He asks, crouching down to meet your eye level, offering a lopsided smile. "Go, mate. Be quick, yeah?" Hobie firmly pat your shoulder as you went to your room to change.

When you came back, Hobie put his closed fist out for a fist bump. You gave him one, and he grinned down at you, putting both his thumbs in the front belt loops of his pants.

"Ya look wonderfully masculine, love,"

"I don't feel like it." You sighed, looking down at your feet.

A shiver ran through your body as Hobie held your chin, and angled your face upwards. "Look at me, swee'heart." He examined your face. You were miserable in your own body, tired of feeling like a girl. "Tell ya what, love. We'll chop at ya hair, 'n I think I know a few tricks t'get ya voice soundin' deeper."

You glanced up at him through your eyelashes. "You do..?"

"Sure do, mate! Had plenty 'a trans bloke mates, even now," Hobie let go of your chin. "Ya still 'ave them scissors I gifted ya, don'tcha?"

You nodded. "In my bathroom."

"Let's go there then, yeah? Ya ready t' feel abso-fuckin'-lutely han'some?" He pat you on the back, still grinning.

You attempted to hold back a big smile, nodding. "Yeah,"

Hobie patted the cold countertop after he finished getting your hair adequately wet in your sink, his rings clinking and making a nice sound on the porcelain. "Siddown, mate. With yer back facin' the sink,"

As you sat on the counter, he rummaged through a few drawers, grabbing the trimming, layering, and normal scissors. "Oh, my good sir, what would you like? 'M at yer service," He bowed to you teasingly.

You rolled your eyes, smiling. "Whatever. Uh.. I dunno, somethin' that makes me look like a boy. Like myself. I definitely want it shorter," You looked over at Hobie, as he evaluated what would suit you best.

From your perspective, now, he was suddenly getting suuuuper fuckin' close to your face, and messing with your hair. You were surely beet red by now.

"Aight, doll, think I know wha' I needa do for ya," He finally backed up, softly chuckling at your flustered demeanour. Then, he grabbed a towel from over the shower rod, and wrapped it around your shoulders, so that hair wouldn't go down your shirt. "Hold righ' here, love,"

So you obeyed, and held the towel in place.

"Good boy. Let's see, now, hmm..."

You felt like you were going to explode. 'Good boy'? When had you ever seen Hobie call anyone a good boy?! Before you even had time to fully process that, he was getting close to your face again.

Hobie began to chop at your overgrown hair with the normal scissors, cutting big chunks of your hair and moving your head around a bunch as you fidgeted. But god, you couldn't help but stare at him. He looked so attractive when he was deeply concentrated, you couldn't deny it. Well, he always looked attractive, and confident... so effortlessly.

Hobie gave you serious debilitating gender envy, in addition to you maybe having a little tiny crush on him. You wanted to be like him so bad it hurt.

"D'you mind turnin' around fo' me? Needa cut the back of yer hair now," Hobie snapped you out of your daze after several minutes of him chopping off your hair.

"O-okay."

"Somethin' wrong, love? Ya seem kinda ou' of it.." A sweet, lopsided smile spread across his gorgeous face, and he tilted his head slightly.

You shake your head. "I'm just.. I dunno. I'm happy that I'm finally getting a haircut again. I really feel like a girl with all of this hair, 'n.. this was long needed. And I'm tired,"

Hobie chuckled softly as you turned to sit criss-cross on the counter, back facing him. "I feel ya, mate. Jus'... yer not a girl, 'kay? You've never looked like a girl t'me, 'n ya never will, yeah?" He began cutting your hair, combing and messing around with it. "I love how ya look 'n present yourself. Yer so confident in yer style, ya look real peng, y'know."

"Yeah...?" You blushed furiously, so thankful that your back was turned to him at the moment.

"Yeah, mate."

It didn't take Hobie too long before he finished cutting your hair, and thinning the ends out with the layering scissors.

"Turn around, love," He ruffles your hair as you turn around, now leaning in close to your face to fix your hair up all nice. He grinned down at you. "Ya look proper han'some. 'Ere, c'mon down. Look in tha' mirror fo' me."

So you hopped down, and evaluated yourself in the mirror. You felt euphoric, and just really happy with your new haircut.

Hobie placed both his hands on your shoulders, leaning over so that his head was next to yours. "You happy with it?"

"Mhm! Thank you so much, Hobie,"

"Say ya look han'some. I wanna hear ya say it." He smiled his lopsided smile.

"I... isn't it a bit vain? Selfish?"

Hobie shook his head, standing back up to his full height to stretch. "Confidence ain't vain. It's quite alrigh' to be sickeningly confident in yerself, y'know. I am. C'mon, swee'heart, say it,"

"I... I look handsome..." You clearly didn't believe those words, evident from you looking down at your feet, and mumbling.

"Like ya believe it. Look yerself in the mirror, 'n say it, nice 'n loud fo' me,"

You groan. "Hobes—"

"(Y/n). C'moooonnn~" He shook you lightly, holding onto your shoulders.

"U-um... I look handsome..." You sighed, smiling despite yourself at Hobie's adorable excitement.

"Tha's more like it. Gooood boy," Hobie giggled like a little girl as he patted your back reassuringly. "Still wanna learn how t'make yer voice a pinch deeper?"

"Yeah, of course I do,"

Hobie smirked. "Aight, let's sit somewhere more comfortable then, yeah?" He gestured for you to exit before him, turning off the light after you both left.

As you both sat down, Hobie was manspreading. You took notice of this, and mirrored him.

"Y'know how t'make yer voice deeper, yeah? Tha's pretty easy," He smiled, and demonstrated it for you.

"Jesus! That's unnatural," you giggle, but test it out a little.

"Yeah! Yeah, you got it. Okay, so keep tha' in mind. How you do that wit' yer throat. Don't force it too much, don't make yer voice too unnaturally deep, kay?"

"Okay..."

"Make yer pitch a bit more... monotone. Keep a plain, calm, controlled pitch, yeah?" He grins down at you, leaning in a little bit too close for a 'normal' distance for friends as he put his hands gently on your shoulders.

"How does this sound..?" You mumble, embarrassed.

Hobie grabbed your hand with both his hands, genuinely happy for you. "Yeah! Bloody perfect, mate! Awe, lookit you! Such a natural. A li'l louder f'me?"

"I sound stupid." You took your hand out of his grasp, groaning as you ran your hands down your face.

"Honey, no... you don' sound stupid at all." He gently touched your hand. "Sorry. Can I use 'honey'? Anyways, mate, you'll get the hang of it eventually. Ya don' have to use it righ' away, but... keep it in that noggin of yers, yeah?"

Hobie teasingly poked your forehead, and you couldn't help but smile, looking up into his big brown eyes, messily lined with black eyeliner.

"You, um... you can use honey. Whatever. Thanks, Hobie. I mean... yeah. I appreciate it a lot," You suddenly avoided his gaze, looking at the details and patches on his pants.

He smiled as he saw your eyes avoiding his.

“Awh. ‘n I’m happy t’do it for ya!” Hobie patted your shoulder firmly. “Yer perfectly masculine love, ‘n don’t you forget it,”

You smiled despite yourself at Hobie’s kindness towards you. How he was so caring towards you, no matter what. When you had came out to him, you’d been so fucking scared, and now… you really only felt completely safe with him. You could tell him anything, and even things you didn’t tell him, he’d gently coax what was wrong out of you with his stupid charm and tender personality.

Though he was sarcastic and cocky most of the time, Hobie could be really kind and gentle... which he definitely was with you, when you needed it.

[nulltune]

hakuno has received ... an egg!! that's right, this fragile-seeming, half-phantasmal pod that was nevertheless large enough to take two arms to lift and hold ... was absolute proof that anybody here was not human. a black fog rolls about in the murky, semi-opaque shell, like thick wildfire smoke encased in lighter cigarette fumes. was that nothingness drifting about the center an embyro? regardless, it was up to hakuno to decide what to do with it now. nobody would have blamed her if she handed it off to the authorities in the manner of a dutiful citizen, (after which, it certainly might not see the light of day ever again,) or fed it to a snake just to see what might happen. the enormous pool of blood is quite telling of an unfortunate mishap as well, yet the egg says nothing, its inhabitant fast asleep and subdued. who knew when it might wake up and be born again? who knew what, or even who, it would be born as, into?

unprompted,  always accepting !   @tenkoseiensei  ♡

there had been no issue in transporting the item to her quarters,  though to the unassuming they'd think it to be a workload ill - suited for a lady of her stature,  the size of it merely obscuring her sight,  but such a thing didn't matter when one had the route to their destination memorized perfectly.  there was no delay to her movement speed,  nothing particularly of note.  if anything,  it was the blood that was ...  unpleasant.  ultimately,  it was inconsequential,  but it lingered in the back of her mind faintly.  the scent of iron,  the knowledge that it must've stained her clothes,  it was so much.  that amount must've resulted from—

the plastic bag tied to a close,  the red color on the fabric still prominent against the translucent material, and hakuno tosses it into the bin.  she washes her hands afterwards,  a sigh coming from her as the water runs clear.  her mind is similarly calm,  no longer distracted by what shouldn't have taken that much of her time,  she returns to the task at hand.

temperature,  humidity,  gaseous environment  —  verified.  it is unclear what stage of incubation the egg is at this moment,  but these conditions should be ideal ...

❛   if there is anything not to your liking,  please let me know.   ❜      she blinks at her own voice,  uncharacteristic for her to speak when alone,  thoughts kept all to herself without an issue—  but,  oh.  vacant eyes turning to the egg  ( carefully kept in an impromtu and specially made area ) ,  cool caramel eyes blink once more.  to already be recognised as a presence by her should signify a sign of life;  at the embryotic stage,  at the very least. 

this was something she should've confirmed at the scene where she'd first stumbled upon it,  but even she could've picked up on the vague sense of a lingering threat.  ‘ instincts ’  had seemed to kick in at that moment,  and although bringing along this large egg was not the ideal choice to make in such a situation,  the thought of leaving it behind was out of the question.

and now that the two of them are within safety,  it seemed that she was able to speak with more ease;  that was the logical conclusion to be made,  anyway.       ❛   do you know what it was that caused that—   ❜       recalling that sight,  hakuno's mouth briefly presses into a thin line.       ❛   —blood spill ?   ❜       it may be out of her field of concern,  but she'll look into it.  though at this moment,  first priority comes to  ...  her guest.

it is ...   what is it,  exactly ?   it looks somewhat ominous,  if she were like a regular person  /  human,  perhaps that would be the conclusion made.  with how she is though,  she merely accepts that as an aspect of this creature  —  the murkiness of its shell covering what lay beneath,  she wondered if it was hiding.  idle thoughts don't last long,  thoughts turning to trying to find out just what this embryo was  —  as it was right now,  she'll have to make do with what little she knew and ensure that the conditions were right for its sake.

it's unlikely.  but,  the possibility of—  being able to hear the sounds and noise of the world around you,  being able to hear everyone,  yet to be unable to utter a single word.  that is ...  so unbearably lonely.  taking a seat next to it,  she faces forward in the same polite way of sitting,  hands folded neatly by her lap.  though her side gaze lingered upon the ..  individual.        ❛   i apologise,  if you are speaking right now,  i'm afraid i cannot hear you.   ❜       what is she even doing ...  well,  to bombard the egg with questions in the first place was odd.  ( not to mention,  rude .. )       ❛   if you would like,  please feel free to speak as much as you'd like when i am able to listen.   ❜

shifting slightly in her position.       ❛   and,  if you have the intellectual capability for it in the future,  please do tell me what it's like—  to be born.   ❜       how curious,  even without any ties connecting the two,  hakuno found that the outcome of the egg perishing was incredibly  ...  unsatisfactory.  could this be the miracle of a life ?       ❛   i wouldn't know.   ❜       i was made,  after all.  whether her creation brought  ‘ joy ’  or  ‘ sadness ’  or maybe nothing at all,  she wouldn't know.  it doesn't matter.  not anymore.

eyes crinkling just a bit,  hakuno resists the urge to pat the egg  —  contact is unnecessary,  lest she do so to turn it for the sake of the incubation process.  instead,  her mind wanders within her still frame.  who are you ?   what are you ?   even without the answers,  she tilts her head to face it fully,  a vague flicker of warmth in the still pools of her eyes.

❛   you have a long life ahead,  i hope you may soon hatch to live it.   ❜

[merakidoll]

𝐉𝐔𝐉𝐔𝐓𝐒𝐔 𝐊𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐍 𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑 𝐅𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐒

in which Gojo, Nanami, and Toji love the intimacy dates bring.

warnings : black chubby reader. semi public sex? dom nanami. toji’s women is a baker ( yall already know what’s about to go down ) pet names : baby, princess, love, nana, ! reader calls toji a good boy! overstimulation. SMUT! 17+ thank yew <3

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

gojo loved two things. eating, and seeing you dress up in the clothes that he got you. so of course dinner dates where his favorite. he always picked the best restaurants, with the lowest lighting. one, so no one could hear you, and two, so no one could see what the vibration of the panties were doing to you. “what do you want to get love?” his skimmed the expensive menu nodding to himself at all the options. looking up at you, a smirk grew on his lips. your head laying on your arms hmm’s falling from your lips, the vibrating noise tuning everyone out.

“i said what do you want to eat baby?” rising up, your low eyes stared daggers into him, while you shook your head no. gojo took that as a sign and cranked the vibration higher making you gasp loudly, clamping your legs shut even tighter. he rose his eye brow sending a que for you to answer him. “p-pastaaa!” you cried as you came.

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎

dates with nanami are always very small and intimate. it’s usually done in the walls of your home, you both basking in the touches of one another. for todays date it was a reading marathon - well only for the blond haired man. “oh princess, he was the killer!” he sound surprised, his glasses resting on his nose that he was too busy to fix, intrigued with the ending. you on the other hand humped your cunt again his slack covered thighs making a mess on not only him, but the leather reading chair.

you craved his attention, your skin hot for him to pay attention to you and not the stupid book. “n-nana” you whimpered on his shoulder, soft voice causing him to hmm still not paying you any mind. “m-me. p-pay attention to me!” you cried taking your shaky hands and gripping the book throwing it across his office. “that’s not nice” he said sternly. making you raise up as he caressed your cheek. “you wanted my attention? you got it” he grabbed your waist pushing you harder into his thigh. “you’re gonna keep cumming until i tell you to stop”

𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎

as baker you loved your job. so a lot of you and toji’s dates revolved around new recipes that you could put in the bakery. this idea for date night came to you in a dream, it was on your mind so heavily that you had to do it. “good boy” a big bowl of chocolate cake batter sat on the counter while toji stood in front of it. his hard length out, small droplets of pre cum getting into your home made recipe but you wanted more.

your squeezed him, slowing pumping all of the cum out. “need more toji” your pouted looking up at him making him make a moany sigh. “o-okay princess” he bit his lip as your jerks got faster. hand becoming cramped, but your kept going already tasting the sweet treat in your mouth that was be just for you. you got in the zone with adding the special ingredient that one load didn’t seem enough- you needed more. toji was slowly losing his mind, overstimulation by the constant cumming and dirtiness of it all. how you were so eager to have your cum cake.

“t-that’s enough princess, i-i need a break”

[cheolhub]

BABY FEVER — CHOI SEUNGCHEOL ࿐

summary. after a picnic date at the park goes horribly wrong, all choi seungcheol wants for his birthday is to fuck a baby into you.

wc. 3.4k+

warnings. established relationship, kinda ? dom!cheol, f. reader, pussy-drunk-bitch-in-heat cheol, breeding kink, literal baby making, marriage kink if you squint, reader referred to as mommy (x2), unprotected sex, oral (f. receiving), light body worship (f. receiving), vulgar language… heavy praise, pet names [baby, angel, princess] — MINORS DNI 18+

note. it’s an international holiday (aka cheol day) hehehe HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY LVRBOY <333 forgive me bc this is actually so rough… i forced myself to finish it in time for his bday 😍 please be gentle!! i promise ill make it up to all of u with a MUCH better cheol fic -3- happy coupsie day 2 u all x (thank yew @jeonghantis for reading this for me TWICE and always encouraging me <3)

you have to admit, this is not how you thought seungcheol’s birthday lunch would pan out. 

no, you definitely did not expect to end the day with your legs wrapped around your beloved boyfriend’s waist while he split you open on his cock, breathily promising that he’ll give you a baby. a ring. a life for the both of you.

because when you took said boyfriend out for a picnic in the park, you did expect a serene lunch date with him and his favorite food. you even wore the sundress he bought for your birthday. it was supposed to be the perfect gift. 

but you hadn’t realized how busy it’d be. how could you have known? it was just a random tuesday afternoon in the midst of august– arguably the hottest month of the year. who, besides the two of you, would want to be out on a day like this?

rowdy, unrestrained children. that’s who. 

it seems that children and parents have nothing better to do than crash birthdays and cause you massive headaches. 

when you looked over at seungcheol on the blanket halfway through your food, you discerned the faraway look in his eyes. he hasn’t said much. much less of how he feels about his “gift.” he wasn’t there– probably disassociated because of the noise. you realized then that you probably should’ve picked a different spot… or stuck to the homemade candlelit dinner you had initially planned. or done literally anything else. 

“cheollie… do you wanna leave?” you asked, concern laced in your voice. “we don’t have to stay, we can go home and do whatever you want.”

his jaw clenched and unclenched at the sound of your voice. he offered a shuddered breath and gave you a curt nod. “yeah, let’s go home.” 

and so you did. you felt defeated as seungcheol bruisingly gripped the steering wheel the entire ride home. you felt defeated as you sat in the passenger seat thinking of ways to fix his now-ruined birthday. you felt defeated as you two rode away in silence. complete silence. 

when you arrive back at your home, you dejectedly drop the basket off in the kitchen without bothering to unpack it. cheol stays on your tail the entire time, following you back to your room after throwing the keys on the island next to the picnic basket. 

and when you reach your destination, you let him in before closing the door behind you and then he pounces.  he has you pinned to said door in an instant. 

completely thrown off by his change in behavior, you splutter out, “ch-cheol, what the fuck?!”

“baby,” he mutters breathily, his eyes scanning your features. the faraway look in his eyes has been replaced, both of them filled with something completely different. lust. it’s like the last hour never even happened.

he has you caged in. one of hands pressed flat against the door and the other gripping your waist. there’s a mere inch of a gap separating the two of you and you can feel all the heat radiating off of his body. 

still wide-eyed, staring up at him, you softly– apprehensively– ask, “cheol? are you okay?” 

admittedly, seungcheol is not okay. not in the slightest. he doesn’t want to scare you, but watching kids run around– hearing how happy they were– had him thinking thoughts. thoughts of having a kid of his own. 

it had his heart fluttering at first, the idea of having a mini him running around the house. it filled him with the utmost joy.

then his thoughts escalated. thoughts of having a kid turned into thoughts of having a kid with you. thoughts of getting you round and pregnant with his child rotted large portions of his brain away.

and it progressively got worse and worse. with every passing minute, the images in his brain became more clear till the only thing on his mind was folding you in half and fucking a baby into you while you begged for it. 

he’s not sure how to relay said thoughts to you. the two of you have been dating for years and you’re in a really good place, both financially and emotionally.

but dropping the ‘i want a kid’ bomb? before he’s even proposed? it’s taboo…untraditional… it’s something you potentially don’t even want, so he should ease into the conversation of children and marriage.

but…choi seungcheol thinks he’s lost the ability to think and speak clearly. that’s why he blurts it out without logically thinking it over, lost in a haze of lust and need and burning hot desire. 

“wanna have a baby,” 

your stomach drops and the air in your lungs vanishes, leaving you breathless.

“w-what…cheol? a baby?” you ask slowly. “you… wanna have a baby?” 

a small growl bubbles in his chest when you repeat his words. “wanna give you a baby.” 

heat creeps up your neck and within seconds– when you realize the intent of his words– your entire body burns as arousal courses through your veins. seungcheol doesn’t just want to have a kid… he wants to fuck one into you. 

you can’t say you’ve never thought of having one before, but it was always farther down the line. after marriage and settling down.

even still, your stomach swirls in anticipation, imagining seungcheol as a father. as your husband. 

so you reply, “do… do you think we’re ready for that? we’re still pretty young and… we aren’t married…”

your words trail off and you look away, eyes trained on his chest instead. 

“i’m gonna marry you.” he says as a matter of factly. “look at me.” he demands, the hand next to your head moves to grip your chin, forcing you to look up at him. “there’s no doubt in my mind. i’m going to marry you, baby.”

hearing that is surreal. he’s said it twice and the words are still rattling around in your empty brain. he’s gonna marry you. there’s no doubt in his mind. 

you’d think your heart is about to lurch out of your chest the way it pounds against your ribcage. your palms are dripping with sweat, your knees are buckling about ready to give out on you, your stomach is in knots because, fuck yes, you want this. you want him. and– you guessed it– you want to bear his child. 

you don’t know how long you’ve been standing, blankly staring at him. before you can even speak up, seungcheol is dropping to his knees in front of you, both of his hands on your waist now.

you almost think he’s going to propose, leaving you even more speechless, but he leaves a soft kiss on your tummy. he’s gentle, kissing you through the fabric of your dress right above your navel. his lips venture down, though, and his pleading eyes look up at you waiting for your okay. 

you let out the breath you were holding, nodding your head.

and cheol swears he would lose it if he hadn’t already. 

he reaches for your panties under your dress, yanking them off your body and letting them pool at your feet. his hand moves to hold your dress up, wrinkling it in his grip. the other lifts one of your legs and drapes it over his shoulder before he finally dives into your cunt.

“cheol!” you gasp as you feel his tongue lay flat against your folds. your hands thread through his hair, gripping at his locks as he laps up your arousal. “sl-slow– fuck, baby– slow down,”

seungcheol is a giver, that’s always been common knowledge.

but you tend to forget that he is exceptionally greedy when it comes to eating you out. he can never get enough of you, slurping at your hole and sucking your clit till you’ve cum countless times on his face. a glutton for pussy, you could say.

it’s why he can’t slow down despite your request. his tongue digs into you while he noses at your clit, moaning against your cunt to bring you closer to the euphoric feeling you’ve been craving since he asked to fuck a baby into you. 

and it works. it always does. your moaning and whining and begging and it’s fucking music to his ears. 

“tastes so good, angel,” he moans against you, words coming out muffled. the vibrations shock your body and you can’t help but jolt, back arching off the door. your hands tighten their grip on his hair, pushing him further into your cunt. 

and that’s the thing about seungcheol being insatiable. you always end up greedier than him. it’s like an orchestrated plan. 

“more,” you beg through a whine, grinding your pussy into his face. “please more, feels s’good, cheollie,” 

he groans against you again, digging his nails into your thigh eliciting your pretty mewls. he tightly wraps his lips around your clit, flicking the swollen bud with his tongue. you throw your head back against the door, eyebrows knitting together as you’re overcome with pleasure. 

it hits you before you can even blink. you’re letting out a breathless mantra of seungcheol’s name, your stomach knots up, your breathing increases and you completely lose control as you let go all over his face. 

he keeps eating you out, whining while lapping up your release as if he’d been deprived of the taste of your cum for weeks. as if he hadn’t eaten you out just last night. and the morning before that. and three times in a row the day before.

when he’s finally done, he gently sets your leg back down. he observes the way you tremble, struggling to keep balance so his hands are back on your waist, releasing the wrinkled fabric and letting it fall back over your legs.

he stands to his feet, towering over you once again. his hard cock strains in his jeans and he gives you a look that screams ‘i need you’ to which you look up at him with hooded eyes. the sheen of your arousal on his skin, his disheveled hair is quite the sight.

“baby…” he pants, inching closer to you. 

“put one in me,” you whisper. you, too, have no doubt in your mind about this. about him. you want everything he’s offering to you. “fuck a baby into me, cheol, i want it. i want you.”

seungcheol thinks his life flashes before his eyes when he hears your words. he thinks, maybe, he mishears you for a second, but when you keep that expectant look on your face, he knows that this is very real. that he’s gonna fuck you full of cum and pray it takes. 

he closes the gap between you, pressing his lips against yours.

it’s not your average kiss. it’s hot and heavy and, fuck, you think he just might eat you alive. his body is flush against yours now and you feel his bulge digging into your tummy. 

feeling him like this has you craving the weight of his cock on your tongue, but you know cheol has no plan of relinquishing any type of control tonight. even if it does mean he’s missing out on the world’s best head.

you kick off your shoes and fumble with the button on his jeans while whining into his mouth. you eventually give up after the button doesn’t budge, wrapping your arms around his neck and grinding against his clothed bulge instead, basking in the way he groans back into your mouth.

he pulls back, swollen lips turning down in a cute pout, “baby, need to fuck you right now…”

you tug at his shirt, whispering, “then fuck me, cheol.” 

a guttural groan bubbles in the back of his throat. he pulls your dress up by the hem, growling a soft, “off.” 

“you first.” 

he raises an eyebrow at you but doesn’t say anything else, tugging his shirt over his head and tossing it on to the ground. his hands are back on your dress, but you shake your head. 

“pants, too,” you whisper with a cheeky smile. 

“didn’t realize this was a strip tease,” he grumbles passively, stepping out of his shoes while his hands easily pop the button of his jeans and yanking them down his thick thighs. 

your eyes flit down to his boxers and your saliva pools in your mouth, threatening to spill past your lips at the mere sight of his clothed hard-on. 

he interrupts your gawking, gruff, stern voice filling your ears, “take your fucking dress off.”

you giggle, raising your arms. he’s not slow and he’s most certainly not gentle when he practically rips the dress up and off, discarding it into the pile of clothes that lay haphazardly on the floor.

he doesn’t even give you a second before grabbing– manhandling– you and guiding you to the bed. 

he lays you down and internally melts. “you’re so gorgeous, baby,” he mumbles, spreading your legs open and eyeing your pulsing cunt. “you’re perfect.”

you don’t know how it’s possible at this point, but you grow even hotter. feverish. you always love his praise and you know he’s well-aware of the fact because he smirks as you squirm and clench around nothing. 

“cheollie,” you whimper. 

his hands splay over your bare stomach and his cock throbs as an array of dirty thoughts re-enter his mind. 

“you’re gonna look so cute when i put a baby in you, isn’t that right?” he murmurs, hands ghosting over your skin before they land on your tits, fondling them through your bra without a care in the world. “gonna be such a pretty mommy…” he tells you, voice dropping an octave. 

you moan at the contact and his promiscuous words. arousal drools from your hole, surely soaking a puddle into the sheets under you. you’re not sure how much longer you can wait for him to impale you on his cock before you become a weeping mess. 

you whine, eyes threatening to close, “please make me a mommy, cheollie.”

seungcheol lets out a sharp breath, quickly removing his hands from your tits, opting on using them to push his boxers down. 

when his length slaps against his abdomen, he lets out a soft groan. he doesn’t wait for anything else, grabbing his cock, spitting on it, stroking it a few times and, finally, pushing his angry red tip against your hole. 

when the head of his cock gets trapped between the warm walls of your cunt, seungcheol curses. “tightest fuckin’ thing,” he mutters, shoving himself deeper and deeper, listening to your high-pitched whines and whimpers. 

and when he’s finally balls deep inside of you, his eyes flicker up from your pussy swallowing him whole to your contorted, fucked out face that he loves dearly. 

he’s breathless, asking, “you good, baby?”

you offer a broken nod and a weak, “s’good.”

it’s all he needs to hear before standing all the way up on his knees, grasping at your waist, and lifting your lower back off the bed. 

you squeal, “cheol! what are you–” 

you’re cut off by your own yelp when he pulls out and slams back into you without much of a warning. his cock reaches deeper than you think you’ve ever felt and it has your eyes rolling back and your hands pulling the sheets off the bed. 

his hips are relentless, continuously driving his cock in and out of you at an impressive speed while groaning out words of praise. you feel his tip bruisingly kiss your cervix and the pained pleasure brings tears to your eyes. 

“s-seungcheol–” you sob, arching further into the air. 

“i know, baby,” he moans in response. “but, fuck, you’re taking it so well. look so fucking pretty taking my cock like this.” he wants to throw his head back in pleasure, but he can’t bear to tear his eyes away from you. 

tears helplessly fall down the sides of your face and your mouth is cracked open, letting out the most gorgeous sounds. your tits spill from your bra, bouncing with every thrust and it’s too good. you look too fucking good. 

and you’re going to look even better with his cum leaking out of your cunt. 

you ache with the partial bridge seungcheol has you in. you’re not sure if you want to focus on the profound pain or intense pleasure, but when he drops your body back on the bed and his thumb catches your clit, you have no other choice. 

you gasp, crying out and clamping around him with an iron grip, “fuh-fuck! cheol– cheollie!”

he growls, rubbing the sensitive bud faster and faster. “you gonna cum for me?”

you pant, chest heaving as you nod your head vigorously. your eyes screw shut and your jaw drops further as you feel the familiar knotting in your tummy. your impending orgasm bubbles in the pit of your belly, a stream of whines and moans leaving your mouth. 

“cum f’me, angel.” he coaxes breathily, cock twitching and throbbing inside of you. “s’gonna feel so good, just cum for me.” he practically begs and you think it’s because he’s just as close. 

you can’t even find it in you to care because the onslaught of pleasure wracks your body. you clench around him once, twice, three times– and, before you know it, the knots in your tummy come completely undone and you’re left a shaking mess under him.

“that’s it, that’s my fucking girl.” he nearly whines, fucking you through your orgasm while you jerk and thrash on the bed. “god, i love this pussy, your body, everything, baby– i love you.”

you cry, silently praying he’ll press his lips against yours because, god, you love him, too. so much. but your voice is hoarse and you don’t think you can conjure up the words to give him. 

it’s like he reads your mind, slipping his hand in between your tits and pulling your body up by the material of your bra and wraps his arms around your body. his mouth presses against yours, swallowing all of your sounds as you swallow his. 

your arms wrap around his neck, sobbing in overstimulation as he kisses the life out of you.  when he pulls away, you wrap your legs around his waist, the heels of your feet digging into his lower back. you continue to whine, burying your face into his sweaty neck to muffle the noises. 

he holds you tighter, pounding into you without any regard to your sounds. “gonna fill you up, princess. gonna fuck you full of my cum, give you a baby, marry you,” he grunts loudly. “everything. gonna– fuck– gonna give you everything.”

you nod, sinking your teeth into his neck. 

and seungcheol can’t hold back, moaning your name before pressing his cock as far as he can go and stilling there. ribbons of his release coat your bruised walls and you feel the warmth radiate throughout your body. 

cheol’s pants slowly morph into breathy chuckles as he comes to terms with what he’s done. 

you shudder, feeling full in more ways than one. you pull your head from the crook of his neck, looking at his gummy grin and dazed eyes and you give him a lopsided grin. you look so content, even after he nearly fucked the life out of you. 

“was it too much?” he asks gently after a few minutes of silently staring at each other.

“a lil…” you whisper, weakly clamping around him. “you know i love it when you get like this, though.”

“i know.” he mumbles, unraveling himself from you to marvel at his work. he pulls out of you and watches the way his cum slowly dribbles out of your hole. he can’t help but groan at the sight. “you think this’ll be enough, angel?”

“a few more rounds probably wouldn’t hurt.” you giggle. 

“that can probably be arranged.” he hums cheekily. “but, seriously, baby. thank you… for today. you always know how to surprise me.”

“really? i kinda… thought you hated the whole picnic lunch date,” you murmur. “thought i ruined your day.”

“no, baby, i loved it.” he says through a smile, kissing the corner of your mouth. “it was great, i swear… i just thought about fucking a baby into you a little too hard.”

“i’m really glad.” you smile, “and, now that you hopefully did… how would you rate year 28?”

“10/10. truly the best birthday ever.” he says. “i got everything i ever wanted.”

© cheolhub — all rights reserved, please refrain from copying, reposting, modifying or translating my work on any platform.

[dadsbongos]

do u think u could write some of ur own personal headcanons for laios? i love the way u write him, it seems almost canon!

anon you dont know what fire youre messing with

also thank yew hehe :>

general headcanons:

Laios likes babysitting but does NOT want to be a real papa, he adores the idea of being the Cool And Strange Uncle but just imagining having to raise a whole person from scratch terrifies him

Usually conks out as soon as his head hits the pillow and he’s a damn heavy sleeper, he strikes me as someone that gets the dad snore when he’s a bit older

Likes doing physical activity in the moment, maintaining his stamina/strength n whatnot. But HAAATES the aftermath, he will not stop bitching about how gross he feels when sweaty

People scare him but I think men specifically scare him more than women because he mainly associates “men” with his old boarding school and military peers and his dad. Meanwhile the most callous woman he’s personally dealt with is like. his mom… who wasn’t particularly menacing and he doesn’t seem to resent her as much as he does his father

Most definitely called Chilchuck “chil” in their early days together and got his nuts sacked for the unintentional disrespect

Doesn’t drink often because the taste bugs him but when he does decide to, he drinks to get drunk. So it has to be a special occasion

The type of older brother to tell Falin food fills up your body from your feet to your head and when you’re full to your head you die

modern headcanons:

Definitely the type to unironically use little emoticons like :) or :] but his favorites are the cute ones like :3 , ^.^ , and :0

Would’ve played barbies with Falin as a kid and enjoyed it more than Falin did lol

If he were out with the group (marcille would have to threaten his life though, he would HATE “going out”) and Marcille or Falin deferred to him to deal with creepy men he’d feel like a superhero about it

Borderline mandated to have a high impact phone case by Falin because he’s GOT to be dropping that shit all the time. I just know it (projecting)

Would probably dislike resident evil as a series but thinks the premises are cool

Bouncing off that: he’s a big Undertale and Deltarune fan (definitely had a thing for Toriel at some point and probably thought sans was kind of overrated). Has ambivalent feelings towards fear & hunger, likes the atmosphere and item preservation and monsters but the assault scenes and overt brutalism ick him out from recommending it

Would go his whole life without an autism diagnosis until eventually held at metaphorical gunpoint by his friends, just for his parents to go “oh yeah we had you tested as a kid but didn’t want you using it as a crutch”

If monsters weren’t real he’d be cryptid autistic just so everyone’s on the same page

Cryptids major and ocean creatures minor type autism

I don’t think he’s straight by any measure but before he has the Realization, he’s the epitome of the girls gays and coleman meme

Segue omg: he has no desire to think more about his sexuality or gender than “i feel x” or “i choose y”. I think he identifies as Man(TM) but in a “its harder to explain i want to be a bog” way. If you referred to him with feminine pronouns or called him “girl” he seriously wouldn’t give a shit 

nsfw(?) headcanons:

Could never do casual, you would have to be committed or only know each other VERY distantly and only do it once. His ass wouldn’t know how to read your relationship if you were trying to do friends with benefits (he’s also very concerned with hurting people’s feelings so just the notion of accidentally doing that to someone he’s intimate with would kill him)

May seem strange coming from a bitch always talkin about fucking him, but I think Laios would actually have kind of a lower sex drive. Like he maybe doesn’t get needy very often but also isn’t NOT in the mood, so if you proposition him and he’s into you he’ll be like “okie :3”

That being said, when he does feel needy he’s NEEDY. It’s debilitating, he genuinely can’t do or think of anything else until his poor wee is taken care of :( poor guy aww

I can see him being a virgin until his early-mid 20s and having no shame about it (good for him go king, virginity is nothing to be ashamed of it literally doesn’t matter)

Also by virgin i mean rice purity test score of like 97

Swears he doesn’t like having his cock worshipped (says its weird and embarrassing) but he’s so flustered n drooly and babbles the whole time

Biter 

[chocosvt]

HER | part six (m).

✧✎ synopsis: wonwoo, a heartbroken and burnt out writer nearing the end of his math degree, wants nothing to do with the seemingly perfect, intimidating girl who has everyone under her thumb. you. unfortunately, his literary talent has got him shoved him between a rock and a hard place when you want to write a book and require his expertise. you two are the furthest from compatible. wonwoo can’t see this going well. at all.

pairing: wonwoo x fem!reader word count: 22.6k genres/tropes: writer!wonwoo, university!au, plug!vernon + boyfriend!mingyu as prominent side characters, SLOWBURN (i am not fucking around this is my slowest burn yet), relationship drama, soul searching, strong angst/hurt (i’m coming for the jugular), comfort, romance, smut, a smoothie of every emotion on earth.

(!) warnings: drug use (weed, cocaine, ecstasy), wonwoo has anxiety + anxiety attacks + fairly dark thoughts, prescribed medication, gambling, intense language, infidelity, throwing up.

✧✎ a/n: just some quick things i want to make apparent!

the fic is told from wonwoo’s pov, not the reader’s! 

all major timeline events are organized through chronological dates

any smut or potentially triggering scenes are NOT MARKED bc the content is already quite mature, so just plz be aware of that! 

bolded and italicized text implies the characters are conversing in korean, tho it doesn’t happen often!

the fic in its entirety is 140k, so it has been split into 6 parts.

here it is... the FINAL part 😭 it seemed that a number of you were quite worried as to how i'd wrap this up, and i can finally give you the answer! :3 this has been an epic journey. thank yew for ur time 💕

more rambling continues at the very end. as per usual. again, a little bit more of an early upload! as a treat <3

⇢ part one | part two | part three | part four | part five ⇢ soundtrack for those curious! ⇢ read at ur own pace! :)

—SEPTEMBER 30TH.

The morning after was strange.

Early sunlight permeated through the living room’s white cloth curtains, dappling in water-like speckles against the glasses still held on his nose. For a moment, Wonwoo was frozen, as his mind made the shift from deep sleep to consciousness, though when he finally did awaken to find his blanket half-pushed off the recliner and the remnants of Chinese takeout left scattered across the coffee table, his lethargy started fading.

Vernon was gone.

Judging from the text on Wonwoo’s phone, the boy had quietly made his way out at around seven in the morning. It surprised Wonwoo to no end that Vernon could manage to sleep so little yet remain fully functional all the time. He seemed magic—or maybe it was something else that Wonwoo would be concerned to know about.

He spent some time cleaning off the coffee table.

Down the hall, his bedroom door remained closed.

When you finally did emerge, it was with the olive-green dress draped over your arm and the ivory heels in hand, which you proceeded to arrange on the small dining table by the kitchen.

Notably, however, there was something off about you, something that Wonwoo interpreted as nerves with an underlying awkwardness you didn’t typically, if at all, demonstrate. When he asked if you wanted breakfast and tea, your response was a tiny head shake and a poorly fit smile. Though, Wonwoo wasn’t going to paw at you.

He found that mornings always tended to be quite sobering, even if he hadn’t exactly drunk enough to make the room spin or swallowed some colourfully disguised pill on his tongue. Just the air was enough to rewire his head—that cooler, crisp air that he either loved or hated.

Undoubtedly, you had much to think about.

Wonwoo helped you get a hold of Princess using his phone, and the two of you watched television in silence while waiting for her to pick you up. He escorted you down through the pottery shop when it was time, and you sported very little shame, walking out onto the bright city sidewalk in just his t-shirt, clothes and shoes wrapped in your arms. Princess had this awfully perplexed look slapped onto her face while leaning over to nudge the car door open for you, and in that  moment, Wonwoo was scared of how it all appeared and what might transpire now that the giddiness and frivolity from the night before had ebbed away. He didn’t regret anything, though. Not at all.

But, in truth, what the fuck even were you two?

And what was supposed to happen now?

—OCTOBER 3RD.  

Since you had left his apartment in a daze that Saturday morning, Wonwoo hadn’t seen or heard from you. It was concerning him as time passed, he couldn’t deny it, but he also trusted you and wanted not to make you feel pressured into explaining yourself.

He was caught in a brisk walk along campus after leaving his early lecture, a warm coffee cup pressed against his lip that he had grabbed from the ground floor of SRX—they had been giving hot drinks away for free, and, consequently, it tasted like it. Nonetheless, the air was chillier by the day as autumn pushed its way in and decorated the walkway with dry leaves that rustled and crunched under his shoes. It was nice to have something hot in his hand.

He took a second to glance down at his phone.

Still, no messages from you, Wonwoo realized with a suckling sip of the very watery coffee, nearly tempted to text you himself—not anything pushy—just a simple reassurance that he was there for you if things weren’t going well.

Suddenly, however, Wonwoo had smacked into someone.

“Fuck—sorry,” he muttered, readjusting the computer bag slung over his shoulder and pushing up his circled glasses.

To Wonwoo’s complete and utter misery, he was unfortunately acquainted with the person he’d bumped shoulders, and now he was wishing that he had just kept walking like an impatient asshole.

Seokmin was standing before him, dressed in a similar-style woolen trench coat that his hands were stuffed into, the sun turning certain threads of his chocolate brown hair all shimmery. He hadn’t gotten back to Seokmin’s numerous texts ever since Wonwoo sent a brief, very purposefully vague message to the boy that night he ran out with you at the dinner party.

Now he was wondering if the shoulder bump was intentional.

“Wonwoo… uh, hey,” Seokmin stumbled.

Sniffling, Wonwoo let a second or two pass before answering.

He was still debating whether or not to walk away.

“What’s up?”

“You just get out of class, or?”

Wonwoo nodded. “Yeah—advanced stats.”

Seokmin flitted a barely-there smile, staring at his coffee cup.

“Is that the free stuff from SRX?”

“Indeed.”

“How does it taste?”

“Uh, watery… like shit, basically.”

Wonwoo knew—he fucking knew—that there was something buzzing on the tip of Seokmin’s tongue that he just couldn’t spit out. His absentminded expression and clear not-giving-a-damness about whether Wonwoo’s free coffee was actually good completely betrayed him. Not wanting to dawdle and get stuck in the mud of conversation, Wonwoo swallowed the lump in his throat, flashed his friend a tight-lipped smile, and pitched a goodbye, blandly wording it as, “I won’t keep you. Later.”

But Seokmin didn’t seem prepared to let that happen.

And Wonwoo’s eyes nearly rolled backward into his skull when the boy turned around and attempted to catch his attention again.

For some stupid, incomprehensible reason, Wonwoo stopped.

Maybe he knew the conversation needed to happen.

It only made him loathe the situation more.

“Yeah?”

Seokmin dragged a hand through his hair, brushing it up and down against the back of his head while he squinted at Wonwoo.

“I think… uh… if you’re not busy… I think there’s maybe some stuff we need to talk about. I don’t mean to like, catch you at a bad time or anything… do you wanna go sit at the picnic table over there?”

At Seokmin’s carefully suggested inquiry, Wonwoo followed the boy’s pointing finger toward the empty table placed on the large grass circle that the walkway wove around. With his grip hardening into the coffee cup, Wonwoo stopped to think despite knowing his answer.

“Okay… yeah.”

Wonwoo realized it had never felt this weird and stilted to sit down with Seokmin despite him being quite a reliable friend over the months, though Wonwoo was developing the sneaking feeling that his study buddy was about to deal an irreparable blow to their relationship. Seokmin’s folded hands were sitting atop the flecked, aged wood of the table, thumbs nervously twiddling, meanwhile Wonwoo remained silent to sip from his coffee that only became more and more tasteless.

Eventually, his friend seemed to find the words he needed.

“So, I don’t know if you’ve heard… but… Her and Mingyu are taking a break. They’re officially pressing the big pause button. I wasn’t there to witness the conversation, although I get the gist it was a pretty… uh, unpleasant talk,” Seokmin winced, bracing his teeth, “and… well, naturally, I learned that you were a big part of that talk, seeing how it looked and all—you and Her running out at the dinner party…”

He left what seemed like a purposeful pause, and Wonwoo assumed that he was supposed to feel pressured and jump to make a correction or provide an explanation, but he kept silent and rather expressionless. Ironically, Seokmin was the one to continue his spiel.

“Well, basically, there were some accusations thrown around as you can imagine. And I’m not sitting here to point a finger and question you to death about everything, but I just thought I’d give you the table—uh, literally—to explain what’s been happening.”

Wonwoo finally set aside his drink, then shifting off the strap to his computer bag, letting it fall down his shoulder. He didn’t make a huge, overwhelmed sigh even though his body was screaming for it, nor did he ponder abandoning the conversation despite the magnitude of everything Seokmin laid out for him.

Fuck—he hated being matured.

“I can’t speak on her feelings. But I like her.”

“Oh—you do?” Seokmin was astonishingly surprised.

Wonwoo shrugged. “Yeah.”

“So, then, does that mean—”

“Actually, sorry, I’m downplaying it like a coward,” Wonwoo interrupted, shaking his head, “I don’t just like her. I’m in love with her.”

It was then that Seokmin simply didn’t speak at all. His mouth had formed a hollowed shape, resembling something like a gulping fish, and Wonwoo capitalized on the silence to keep his thoughts fluent.

“I understand, okay? I understand why Mingyu is pissed. It takes two to tango, I get all that. And I know you probably want me to state my regret and all that so I don’t seem like such an asshole, but, honestly, I don’t really regret anything. Mingyu doesn’t care about her.”

Seokmin chuffed, rubbing at his chin. “Okay… I don’t know if I would go as far as to say that in particular. But you are admitting to it? I don’t know what it is you’ve done but you’ve done things with Her.”

“We’ve never had sex if that’s what you’re asking.”

“And—”

“We’ve never kissed, either… the only thing I was supposed to do was help her write that little love story. Which you set up, by the way. I didn’t know it would turn into this. I tried to get out of it.”

“I never thought she would stick it out.”

“I know.” Wonwoo sucked in his bottom lip, staring across the weathered wood at Seokmin. “You probably wanted her to drop it the second she mentioned it. I bet Mingyu thought the same.”

Seokmin scrunched up his face in disagreement. “That’s not necessarily true. She just fixates on stuff and then burns out after. She's always been like that, ever since I've known her. I figured the book would be no different. I thought it was something she needed to get out of her system, I didn’t think it would start rolling and—” he leaned forward into his palms for a moment, swallowing audibly. “Sorry, I just—I don’t get it, that’s all. I don’t get her fixations.”

“I think you’re just uncomfortable with her self-expression.”

“She—it’s not self-expression, though. Look, I know a pinch of what her story is about. It’s not about herself. It’s about Mingyu.”

“You think that just because she’s writing about someone else, there’s no pieces of herself in it? Her own feelings? Her own perspective? C’mon, Seokmin. You’re fucking smarter than that. You know what it's actually about.”

His friend’s eyes drifted away from him.  

Wonwoo then cleared his throat. “Look, you don’t really need all the details, Seokmin. Like I said, I don’t know exactly how she feels about me. I can surmise. I can say we’ve had moments that we shouldn’t. But—genuinely—you probably know more than I do and you’re lying to yourself if you can’t realize that Mingyu is just some advantageous prick who makes her miserable.”

“Well, I think that—I don’t know if it’s really—”

“He walked into an opportunity with her and he knew it. His whole fucking life and career was basically set up for him the second he met her family. He’s beyond lucky Her ever looked his way.”

“Jeez, Wonwoo. Honestly, it’s not like that.”

“How is it not?”

Seokmin ran a hand through his hair, appearing flustered and without a tongue to make sense. “Just—okay—I’ve been around them a lot. I know how it seems from an outsider’s view. They can argue and push buttons. Their relationship isn’t perfect, but whose is? Mingyu didn’t just walk into the family asking for this and that—he’s never asked for anything, no handouts. Everything that’s been ‘set up’ for him was because Her’s family wanted it. They know he’s a good guy.”

The scoff shot from Wonwoo’s mouth like an arrow. “I’m sorry but, what do they want for Her? Were we at the same dinner party? Did you see her nearly burst into tears? She has to live life in this rigid box, trying to conform to everyone else around her. Don’t you think she wants to live her own life? Be her own person?”

“Of course, but—”

“No—why is there even a ‘but’?”

“I don’t think you understand. Her has everything she needs.”

“You mean, what everyone thinks she needs.” Wonwoo tossed his hand up in the air, laughing, while also getting the strong impulse to ring out his friend’s neck. “It doesn’t make any sense to me. How can you be so close to her, but you don’t realize how unhappy she is? You know what I think? You’re part of it, Seokmin. You're always in her business, hovering, watching, sewing seeds of doubt, shooting down her interests—and you disguise it as help. No one in that house listens to her. They’ve told her who she should be instead of letting her figure it out for herself. How can you be so complicit in that? She gets no support from any of you, about the decisions in her life that actually matter. And Mingyu—honestly, he can go fuck himself. He’s just as complicit as you. He’s soul-sucking.”

“God—sh-she’s an adult.” Seokmin was exasperated, his cheeks reddening like two ripe apples. “She doesn’t have to visit her parents. She doesn’t have to date Mingyu. Nothing is forced on her. No one is dragging her there. I help because I know what she's capable of. I know the perfect life she can have. Her parents know, too. But she just gets sidetracked! She gets wrapped up in stuff that doesn't matter! If she hates everything, she can easily walk away.”

“But you guys have made that so impossible for her.”

“How?”

Wonwoo proceeded to clench his fist up so tight he thought his skin might bleed, the edge of his knuckles pressing down on the table.

“She doesn’t know who the fuck she is.”

Seokmin instantly paled. He looked whiter than a snowflake.

“That’s like clipping a bird’s wings and then asking why it can’t fly away. Knowing who you are is such a big part of life. It’s arguably the foundation. What the fuck do you want her to do? I don’t even—I honestly don’t even want to look at you, Seokmin. Let Mingyu beat me up if he wants to—let it happen a thousand times—” slinging the computer bag back over his shoulder, Wonwoo was rising from the picnic table while glaring down at the stiff, empty-faced Seokmin, who had suddenly morphed from a friend to a bitter stranger, “—I don’t care what he thinks. It’s not going to change how I feel about her, or make me stay away. I’ve seen who she can be and what she actually wants from life, and it's not some snotty, vapid, copy-and-paste hell that her parents are forcing on her. But neither of you seem to give a shit. You’re both completely undeserving.”

Stepping away from the bench, Wonwoo tensed his jaw as the sunlight splashed over him, breaking in between the skeletal trees and their resilient orange leaves. “Got everything you wanted to know? Go run it back to Mingyu. I’m sure that’s what you were gonna do anyway.”

The anger in his chest felt like it was going to crawl out from his mouth and squeeze Seokmin into a ball, therefore Wonwoo exercised his breathing while on a strict path back down the walkway.

Abandoning Seokmin did hurt him more than he had thought, knowing he just lost a friend from his already very limited circle, someone whom he clicked with so readily. At the same time, however, there was a lightness about it. As Wonwoo’s frustration seeped out during the walk back to his apartment, some of the weight pressed into his shoulders released itself like water evaporating from a blacktop.

He just wished he could be at your side more than anything.

There was obviously a reason for your silence.

[ Wonwoo | 11:28 am ]: I heard about the break.

[ Wonwoo | 11:28 am ]: I’m here if you need anything at all.

…

[ Her | 4:05 pm ]: you talked to seokmin?

[ Wonwoo | 4:07 pm ]: Yeah. Never again.

[ Her | 4:07 pm ]: mingyu is so mad

[ Wonwoo | 4:07 pm ]: I figure.

[ Her | 4:08 pm ]: please avoid him if you can. i’m worried

[ Wonwoo | 4:08 pm ]: I’m not.

[ Her | 4:08 pm ]: wonwoo he’s seriously pissed

[ Her | 4:08 pm ]: can’t you hang out with vernon some more

[ Wonwoo | 4:09 pm ]: Seriously?

[ Her | 4:09 pm ]: yes

[ Her | 4:09 pm ]: mingyu got into trouble with dots and had a real big scare. so he doesn’t like to mess much with him or his friends. he'll showboat but that's about it

[ Her | 4:09 pm ]: well ik dots died but u get the point

[ Wonwoo | 4:10 pm ]: Fair.

[ Wonwoo | 4:10 pm ]: But I can’t just pull Vernon around as my Mingyu repellent lol. Honestly, if he wants to rock me, idc.

[ Her | 4:10 pm ]: well I do care

[ Her | 4:10 pm ]: ugh

[ Her | 4:11 pm ]: life has been sucking so hard lately

[ Wonwoo | 4:11 pm ]: I want to come see you.

[ Her | 4:11 pm ]: I want that too. but I need more time, k?

[ Wonwoo | 4:12 pm ]: I know.

[ Wonwoo | 4:12 pm ]: Here if you need me.

—OCTOBER 18TH.

For the past two weeks, Wonwoo had been walking around with the looming possibility of getting jumped by your six-foot tall, rather muscley boyfriend, and he was thus very relieved to have made it this far without eating a fist to the face. Well, now Mingyu was an ex.

Maybe.

The pause in your relationship read like a gray area that Wonwoo had been treading the thinnest eggshells on, prompting him to wait and hear the truth from you directly whenever you felt steady enough to tell him. He wondered if today might be that day.

Placing another strawberry onto the cutting board, Wonwoo chopped his knife through the leafy green bit, removing the stem. The cleaned-up strawberry was then dropped into a bowl of fresh ones that you had been picking away at for the past few minutes or so.

Wonwoo smiled while grabbing another berry to cut.

“I feel like this bowl hasn’t gotten any fuller, for some reason.”

Your legs were swinging as you sat atop the small kitchen island while looking down at his every movement with the knife. Once he  dropped another cut strawberry into the bowl, you scooped it out.

“Just making sure they don’t go bad,” you responded, shrugging.

He raised an eyebrow at you. “The fruit you buy usually goes bad within the minute? Are you getting into a fist fight with it?”

You poked at his hip with your socked foot. “Well, you said you were cutting it for me. So can I eat it or not? I’m getting mixed signals.”

“No, of course you can eat it. I’m just teasing.”

“I don’t do too well with delayed gratification.”

Wonwoo smiled at you, proceeding to remove the last few strawberries from the basket to cleanly dissect their stems. He then turned around, tossing the cutting board and knife into the stainless-steel sink with a clatter. After washing his hands, he was back at the island, noticing that the bowl was now seated in your lap like a bag of movie theatre popcorn with just the perfect amount of butter and salt. For a moment, Wonwoo didn’t say anything—that focused look to your face as you ate the fruit he prepared was much too captivating. He wanted to catch one of your swinging legs, pull you right to the counter’s very edge and have you wrap yourself around him. He wanted everything with you.

In your earlier days together, Wonwoo used to be a lot more evasive about his staring (at least, that’s what he wanted to believe), but now he didn’t feel as required to be so painfully subtle and imperceptible about things. He let you snack until you were satisfied, the empty bowl then being exchanged with a damp rag to clean your fingers.

“So,” clearing his throat, Wonwoo braced his hands against the granite island and glanced at you from behind his glasses, scanning down the unbothered, relatively straight face you had, “everything going okay?”

Pressing your lips together, you nodded, making only an “mhm” sound that didn’t leave much to be interpreted.

Wonwoo saw the hands that plunged swiftly between your thighs, how you were quick to squeeze around them, like there existed something weighted and hidden.

He wanted to leave it up to your discretion—he really did.

“Okay, that’s good… just—uh, he’s not giving you a hard time, right? He’s not bothering you at all?” Wonwoo asked, adjusting the rim of the black beanie he’d thrown on to keep his messy hair tucked back. “I don’t mean to disinter anything. I’m only asking because I—”

“Because you care,” you finished his sentence quietly with a trusting and faint smile, “I know. Thank you. It is hard for me, though… I don’t know why this particular thing is so hard but it is.”

Wonwoo slid his hands together, moving them slow along the cold granite. “No… that’s understandable. I get it plenty.” Hell—he didn’t just get it—Wonwoo had miserably and insufferably lived it for damn near a year at that point. In fact, tomorrow would mark the day that he came home to this same apartment only to discover the interior stripped of all the traces, sentiments, and artifacts that breathed miraculous life into the girl he once thought to be his other half.

A whole fucking year without Jeanie.

How flipped things were. How oddly coincidental that he was now in the same space but with a new person to create everlasting memories. You had the most opposite personality and spark.

Wonwoo sighed. He got close to you, settling his hand atop your knee before gliding it underneath your thigh, gripping at you firmly and pulling you forward until he was bracketed in between your legs. Your response was smitten, and he couldn’t deny that he loved to practically see your heart beating under your chest in addition to sensing the warmth that flourished off your skin like you were sizzling in a pan.

Wonwoo set one hand down on the counter, right next to your hip, while the other tended to the side of your face, his fingers running behind your ear and down the slender path to your silk-smooth neck.

“Look…” he breathed out, finding your eyes that were now a bit watery and tinged with stinging emotion, “I know it’s hard. And I would never rush you into figuring things out… but I like you…” Wonwoo swallowed, letting his thumb play with your earring meanwhile his deep voice triggered the sharp, raised hairs spreading down your arms like an electric current, “I love spending time with you—even just being in the same room as you, getting to stare at you—but I just—when I don’t know what you are to Mingyu, I don’t know what to do with us.”

You drew in an immediate breath, then releasing a quiet laugh mixed with a runny sniffle. “I-It seems like you know…”

He pushed both his hands into the countertop, smiling at you.

“Well, I know what I want to do…” Wonwoo murmured, gazing so intimately into your eyes as the oceans he urged to drown in, “but you have to understand my reservations about it. That’s all.”

Bringing a pinky finger to your mouth to nibble on, you nodded.

Softly, he pinched the bare expanse of your waist. You gasped.

“Because I do, in fact, want you.”

You didn’t say anything, although Wonwoo noted that you were staring back into his gaze with so many hues of simple human emotion pulsating behind your eyes—there was frustration, possibly at yourself and everything you couldn’t yet communicate, and twinkles of impulse that matched rhythm with your heart. Then, employing unforeseen abruptness, your fingers were running down the back of his neck all ticklish and he felt the warmth from your breath feather his lips as you moved in closer, smirking at him, hazy like a sunrise pouring its light through a thick cover of morning fog.

“If you can be patient for just a little longer, you'll have all of me.”

Thankfully (or maybe not so thankfully judging from the pure adrenaline coursing through his veins in a hedonistic, addictive sort of way) there were a few knocks at his door.

Your eyes rolled. “Is that your landlord or something?”

Wonwoo took a step back, letting you slide off the countertop while he adjusted his glasses and brushed down his t-shirt. How were you suddenly so casual? One second you were chewing nervously on your finger with the timidness of a newborn doe and the next—back to your typical self. He watched you approach the door, tilting his head.

“Uh, maybe? She usually texts me, though.”

“Or Seokmin with a batch of chocolate apology brownies.”

He chuckled, folding his arms. “Doubt it.”

Really, Wonwoo had no idea who it could be. It possibly was his landlord who had perhaps forgotten her usual warning text, or maybe his younger, sometimes irresponsible neighbour across the hall who would specifically ask to borrow his scent-free laundry detergent every now and then. As long as it wasn’t Lady Liberty on the other side (in Vernon’s tried and true nicknaming spirit) then Wonwoo had no reason to care.

“Welp,” you made a balmy, popping sound with your lips, “only one way to find out. I think I can smell the chocolate.” But once the door was pulled open, that little joking smile fell from your face concerningly fast, as though someone had plucked it right off.

Fuck—Wonwoo thought right off the cuff—it was Lady Liberty.

Your head quirked ever so slightly. “Uh, hello…”

Whoever the person was, they were just outside the threshold of what Wonwoo could see from his spot in the kitchen—except, now he didn’t think it was Mingyu at all, since your tone seemed more confused than anything else.

For a moment, Wonwoo just stood where he was, not particularly understanding why he couldn’t even twitch a measly finger.

“Hi—I’m sorry, is this the—is this—does Wonwoo still live here?”

From across the room, you shifted him a glance.

There was a heavy pause before you answered.

“… Yeah.”

“O-Oh, well… um… I’m so sorry, but are you living here as well? Is he home? I don’t mean to bother or anything. I guess I came by on a whim. It’s a little hard to explain… I can always come back later.”

At that point, Wonwoo was making his way beside you.

That voice—that delicate wispy voice, lighter than a tuft of cotton adrift through the breeze under a salt blue sky—there was such a familiarity about it that he was getting dizzier by the second. Your jaw was distinctly clenched as Wonwoo stopped at your side.

He took one look into the hallway and damn near fainted.

“What the fuck…” Wonwoo whispered, his mouth suddenly stark of moisture as he lifted a hand to grab the door’s edge, “Jeanie?”

“Uh, hey, Wonwoo.”

Wait—never mind, never mind—he panicked. Maybe he did want it to be Mingyu. In fact, Wonwoo would have anticipated Bohyuk showing up outside his door, or his parents, or his girlfriend of two weeks back in sixth grade who broke up with him over a juice box before he could guess that his ex who disappeared without a trace would be there.

It sounded borderline insane, but Wonwoo almost wanted to poke her just to test if she was even real. She looked real. She sounded real. You didn’t seem to be staring into empty space while side-eyeing him worriedly, rather you had very much acknowledged her. Wonwoo’s grip fastened to the door, then realizing he was using it as a personal crutch to keep him upright as his legs slowly regained their rigidity and strength. He also realized that you likely had no idea who she was until her name had been distantly tugged from his lips by his instincts.

Jeanie splayed out her hands in a demonstration of submission.

“If it’s a bad time, I can come back later…”

Wonwoo noted that you had taken a step away from the door, although you continued to stare at Jeanie with a countenance that refused to spoil much—it seemed inquisitive and curious but still hardened—the moment was probably overwhelming you, too.

He gulped dryly, flicking his eyes back to her. “Uh, well, I wasn’t even—you’re like, the last person I would expect to see and—”

“It’s okay. I’ll leave.”

Jerking back to you, Wonwoo nearly gave himself whiplash.

“Her—you don’t need to—”

But you shook your head.

Grabbing the cream purse off the couch and slipping back into your comfortable, clean white tennis shoes, you seemed eager to go while simultaneously jaded at the circumstances.

“No, don’t worry about it,” you stopped in front of Wonwoo, adjusting the strap wove around your shoulder, “this seems important, so… I don’t want to stand in the way of anything… I’ll see you later, ‘kay?”

Then, you turned to Jeanie, sticking out your hand. “Nice to meet you.”

She looked to Wonwoo for a split second.

“Um, yeah, you as well…” Jeanie eventually accepted the handshake, sounding breathy with nerves, “sorry about all this.”

While making your way to the staircase, Wonwoo quickly stepped into the corridor and waved at you, feeling his chest tighten.

“I’ll call you, okay?”

You flashed a transient smile. He hated watching you leave.

Jeanie was watching you, too, hands politely folded at her abdomen, bunny rabbit teeth digging at the skin of her ruby-stained and calloused lips. She had always been a chronic lip-biter—anxiety, thrill, or stress, Wonwoo vividly remembered the blisters she absentmindedly inflicted unto herself from the bad habit, similar to the scars marking the cuticle of his thumb. After a year Jeanie looked different no doubt, but she also reflected an unchanged image through her conserved, fidgety behaviours. She was shy like a budding flower kept just short of the sun.

“Are you okay if I come in?” Jeanie mumbled, hardly able to maintain eye contact with Wonwoo for no more than a second or two.

He stepped back, beckoning indoors.

“Yeah… that’s fine, I guess.”

“Looks pretty nice in here…” she remarked soft-spokenly, taking a moment to marvel the space she once came home to every day, although she couldn’t seem more like a stranger to the apartment even if she tried—like a magazine cutout slapped onto a novel.

Wonwoo rubbed under his nose. “Well… I make due.”

Her hair used to be a symmetric, blunt length with her chin, but she had clearly grown it out over the months. The black tresses thrived in long and loose ribbons down her back, shinier than sea glass polished by rough waves. She was never one to wear much makeup either—trimming her eyebrows, glossing her lips, and flicking on some mascara was all she really ever cared to do, and Wonwoo remembered being in love with her simplicity.

Jeanie proceeded to walk behind the couch, squeezing the back in her hands. She was so tiny. That hadn’t changed much. He could only stand in one place, keeping still, examining her every movement and fighting against the trillions of voices clawing to his mind’s surface.

“Feels strange to be in here,” she laughed, running her fingers along the couch’s fabric, staring around the space, “I think it definitely has more of your touch now… it was nice to see Saskia again, too.”

“Yeah.”

She stopped on him. “You look well. Healthy.”

Wonwoo squinted at her. “Why are you here?”

He didn’t say it in a rude, impatient way. Genuinely, Wonwoo wasn’t angry with her, not like he might have been a few months ago.

But he was confused and feeling increasingly anxious. You were gone, probably on your way back home, though Wonwoo wished you hadn’t left at all, even if it were to make things sticky and awkward. Your presence in a room was the comfort he badly, painfully missed.

“Sure,” Jeanie cleared her throat, “I’ll explain. Care to sit?”

Together, they nestled onto the couch.

Wonwoo was kept to one end while Jeanie sat more in the middle, pulling at the long, flowy hem of her fern-patterned blue dress.

He tugged at the rim to his beanie, waiting for her to speak.

The girl gripped onto her knees, poised a soft, gentle look in his direction while taking in a breath. Their nerves seemed to be coalescing like different colours bleeding from freshly soaked paintbrushes. If anxiety were personified into butterflies, the room would start fluttering.

“I guess I thought it was time. Taking a shot in the dark, I know. I didn’t know if you would still be here, but I got lucky…” she clutched at her dress, fingers pulling into the airy material. “Wonwoo, it’s not like I don’t think about you, or wonder about you. I know what I did, how much it hurt… then I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to come back to here, with you. But I processed it all and it became an itch I had to scratch.”

Puffing out through his nose, Wonwoo almost laughed.

“Yeah—you wanted to see if I, what? Threw myself off the building or persevered, becoming some big money writer?”

Jeanie blinked at him a few times, furrowing her neat, straight brow, with every hair gelled down perfectly in place.

Wonwoo shook his head, lifting out his hand.

“Okay, my bad. That sounded like such an asshole thing to say.”

“No, it’s okay. I get it.” Her cheeks flooded with a tide of rosy pink as she chuckled. “I-I just… well, you seem different now.”

He pushed up his glasses. “You think?”

“Yeah.”

“In a good or bad way?”

Jeanie clasped her hands together, thumbs tapping.

“Well, I guess you seem more... upfront, not as prevaricating. Maybe that’s how you’ve always been and I just never really saw it or you picked it up from someone else.”

Wonwoo shrugged. “Probably a bit of both.”

“I am sorry. I know it was all so… sudden. I know this is sudden. I thought about calling... my hands would just shake so much whenever I picked up the phone, getting all sweaty and stuff. It felt like something that I had to just do. And, well, once I was back in the area, I didn’t even want to lend myself time to dwell. I only came in yesterday.”

“You went back home, then?”

“I did.”

“I figured… well, I got the hint pretty clear when your mom sent me that email. It was only a sentence or two long, but it hurt like hell.”

“It’s what I asked her to send. It’s all I felt you needed to know.”

“Yeah, I get that.”

Jeanie sighed, “I feel warranted in what I did… even so, I-I think I owe you an apology. Because, well, you were and still are someone I regard highly. You were going through something pretty serious… I mean, it’s obvious you’re taking such better care of yourself.”

 “It definitely hasn’t been linear.”

Tucking some hair behind her ear, the girl smiled. “Well, what in life really is? It only feels that way when you’re going straight down.”

He hmphed, thinking. “… Yeah. Really though, don’t worry about it. An apology isn’t necessary. You’ve always been too gracious.”

“I-I guess… but, I think it is, since—”

“Jeanie, c’mon. It’s really not. I was dragging you down.”

“Wonwoo, I feel like—”

“I’m telling you—”

“Well, I’m telling you and it would mean a lot if you just let me speak and get this off my chest. Please. Then you can have the floor. Tell me to package it all back up. Whatever it is you have to say. But I spent our entire relationship just listening and trying to understand you and interpret all your vague signals when I should have been trying to understand myself, and what I wanted. I’m not the verbose type, I know that. Going off on longwinded tangents about my feelings has never been something that suits me but I’m here now and I owe it to the girl who just sucked it all up, all the time, trying to be this perfect girlfriend for you.”

He managed a long, introspective breath.

Fuck—he really did owe her that. He owed her so much more.

“… Okay,” Wonwoo nodded complicity, “you’re right.”

“Leaving was the very last thing I wanted. I swear it. I agonized over the choice every day. But you didn’t even notice. That’s when I knew it was more than bad, and whatever it was you were going through was just pulling you down so deep, like a whirlpool. It’s like… I would talk to you, and there was no one inside. When I felt like you needed space, I gave you space. When I felt like you had something hard to say, I would sit with you all day, trying to ease it out, waiting for you to say it.

When you seemed so angry at yourself and everything around you—I-I don’t know—I tried to be the best thing for you. But I was hitting wall after wall. Sometimes I wonder how much of it was my fault. If I had just been upfront about my feelings then maybe things would have been… well, you know, different. I guess I never did say much because it seemed like the last thing you needed to hear, like I would be adding to your already massive collection of burdens. You have to understand, I felt trapped, Wonwoo. Like I was in a glass box or something.

I was decaying from the inside out. If I didn’t leave, if I didn’t make that split second decision to phone up my mom and tell her everything that morning you left for work—then maybe we would have gotten even worse. Maybe we would have just drowned. I don’t know. I’m… glad, relieved, happier than ever, that I don’t know what might have happened. And now that it seems we’re both… whole… I feel like an apology is just a way for me to say that if I had the steel to speak for the both of us, maybe we could have spared so much pain in between.”

Jeanie’s doe eyes twinkled with tears. “I thought that being apart might heal us both… I-I did it ‘cause—in essence—I did it because I cared, Wonwoo. About you. So deeply. But I also needed to start caring about myself, too.”

The corners of his mouth flitted in an unbridled smile toward the girl, his gaze admiring how the evening sunlight warmed up her cool-toned skin and shimmered through her strong, healthy hair.

“I know,” Wonwoo finally answered. “I’ve known for a while.”

Jeanie stayed for about an hour longer, until the sky started darkening. Together, they filled each other in on the breakages in each other’s distant lives, like a spider reweaving a gash through its cobweb. He was pleased to learn that she was doing quite well for herself—now moved out from her family house and living with her younger sister, Jeanie held true to pursuing her ambition of managing the library she had always adored coming to during her childhood (he remembered it specifically as “the one with the bean bag corner and the giant toy crate with the giraffe.”)

Wonwoo felt he didn’t have much to say regarding himself, however, he had plenty to say about you.

Rubbing at a strand of her hair, Jeanie nodded. “Yeah, I remember Her. She—like—she did scare me a bit… I don’t know—she really seemed to know what she was doing. I was a little envious of that. And she had really great style. She could pull anything off. She came in looking for a textbook one time, but I made my co-worker help her instead. I think I was too nervous to talk to her.”

Wonwoo had his legs stretched out onto the coffee table, hands settled on his stomach. Itching at his eyebrow, he smiled. “I probably would have done the same, back then. Honestly though, she’s nothing like what she seems. I can promise you that.”

Jeanie was quiet for a moment, adjusting the legs tucked up underneath herself. “So… you two are… you’re dating?”

“No… it’s weird. I wish.”

“I recognized her when she opened the door. I was pretty confused since… of all the people that you could have over… she seemed like the most unlikely candidate. I-I mean, I’m not saying that you could never—I’m not saying that it could never happen—”

He tilted his head at Jeanie, grinning slyly. “No, just say it. You didn’t imagine I’d ever even be able to talk to someone like her.”

The girl’s face flushed. “Well, you’re quite the opposites.”

“In some ways.”

“I don’t think she’d like me.”

Wonwoo pursed his lip in disagreement. “That’s not true. To be fair, you’ve ever only got to see one side of her. She’s trying to figure shit out just as much as we are. You never really stop, I suppose.”

He felt Jeanie’s gaze still on him for a few seconds, her mouth twitching into a delicate, sincere smile made brighter by her eyes. “So… you figure she’d like me? Even if she knew all the details about us? How rough it all was?”

Wonwoo crossed his arms, staring back toward her confidently. “I figure she’d probably like you more than me, actually.”

8:28 pm

“Hey, thanks for picking up.”

“Oh, no big deal. You called me at a good time. I was just about to start my skincare and I would have needed to sit for fifteen minutes doing absolutely nothing in a slimy face mask.” 

“Sounds fun.”

“I’m guessing your conversation is over and done with.”

“Yeah. She only left like, five minutes ago.”

“And you didn’t want to sit alone in your bedroom contemplating the universe for an additional hour with all the blinds drawn? Woah. Wonwoo, I am impressed. Finger snaps.”

“Finger snaps.”

“So… am I allowed to know how the whole thing went or did you just call me to hear the sound of my voice?”

“Both. But mostly to hear your voice.”

“Okay. Enlighten me then.”

9:45 pm

“Anyway… yeah. The conversation went well. I still can’t believe she actually came back to see me. Like, what a mindfuck, you know?”

“That took a lot of courage from her part.”

“Yeah, it did. Makes me proud, though. To hear her actually speak her mind. She really was just trying to be the best possible person for me and the only thing that got her is heartbreak. She’s putting herself first, now. She’s spending a couple days in the city with her sister.”

“… Do you think that you’ll want to see her again?”

“I don’t know. Do I need to?”

“Do you?”

“No. I mean, don’t get me wrong, as much as it was a shock to see her again, there was great closure in it. If she had come to see me way sooner, no way would I have been open to it—I probably would have freaked the fuck out and had an anxiety attack or some shit—but I feel way better about everything now. I felt like I understood her choices, kinda like I was the one making them... but, you know, we’re evolved people at this point. We’ve veered onto two separate paths, neither one being greater than or less than the other… just different.”

“Right.”

“We just wished each other well.”

“No, that’s great. You put a bow on it. I just didn’t really know what the whole thing was gonna entail… so, yeah, I had gotten kinda worried… like—once I knew it was her—I thought she looked so perfect for you. You two just made immediate sense in my mind. She’s got such a sweet voice, and the kind, shy personality that everyone always adores. I think if you stuck her in a room with me, she’d hate my guts.”

“Ha—Jeanie hates no one’s guts. She’s got no room in her heart for that kind of stuff. You two are different for sure, but I think that’s what would make you interesting and attractive to each other.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. If it makes you feel any better, she didn’t think you’d like her either. But I told her you’d probably like her more than me.”

“What! She actually thought that? I mean, maybe I seemed a little damp when I left, but that was just my mind on overdrive.”

“Need me to arrange a date between you two?”

“Ha—she did have a great perfume on. Maybe ask about that.”

“Well, I will if I see her.”

“She doesn’t know about the book you were writing for her, does she? I can’t believe that’s been sitting on your laptop all this time.”

“No, she doesn’t. I used to sit there and stare at it every day, but I don’t think I’ve even opened the damn document in months… since I met you, my mind has gradually moved away from it, I guess. I think now it’s more of an effort thing. All the time I put into it. It’s like, if I delete it, I’m deleting that time from my life… does that even make sense?”

“Yeah, I know what you’re saying.”

“… Did you ever finish your book for Mingyu? I know you wanted it done before your anniversary in December. It seemed like you were on track to have it done quite early, with all that time you gave yourself.”

“I did finish it, actually.”

“No fucking way—that’s a big accomplishment.”

“Yeah. Now I’ve just gotta decide what to do with it.”

—NOVEMBER 3RD.

Wonwoo was fairly surprised that Princess had invited him to her birthday dinner at Terra Cotta. At one point, he wasn’t certain where he stood with your closest friend, even if his relationship with her presented itself as amicable on the surface—he always thought that maybe deep down, Princess really did despise him. Then Wonwoo wondered if you had nipped at the birthday girl into inviting him, although that didn’t seem like something in your character.

Through all his fretting, thumb-scraping, and late-night pondering in the shower, Wonwoo eventually came to the conclusion that was probably the simplest and most accurate: Princess just liked him.

A call from Vernon came through right as Wonwoo was getting into bed last week, to which the rambling boy had impetuously thrown out, “yeah, I got an invite to Her’s best friend’s birthday dinner or somethin’ like that—what was her name again? Penelope? The sexy dark skin girl with the braids? Anyway, I told her I’d love to go, but I’m gonna be out of town for a few days in November. Said I could hook her up with a couple MDMA bombs, though. Y’know, as a gift.”

Thus, that concluded the story of Wonwoo having to sit at a rather large and reserved candlelit table in an expensive, esteemed restaurant, surrounded by some friends and strangers alike, with a plastic baggie of hard drugs shoved into his pants pocket that he couldn’t stop worrying about. Vernon had wanted him to leave it with Princess when appropriate. Most people invited were going to the club later in the night—Room 319—which he figured could only be survived by going buckwild off ecstasy. As his knee continued to ricochet underneath the tablecloth, Wonwoo was soothed by your hand sliding over his thigh.

You gave him a solicitous glance, smiling with care. “Why don’t I just put it in my purse?” The offer was whispered amongst the conversation.

Wonwoo couldn’t help but flit his eyes around the table, ensuring no one was giving his general direction a lick of attention. The waiters and waitresses would pop from the blue every now and then with bottles that seemed glued to their hands, scouring for anyone who needed a top up on alcohol. His glass had been seldom touched for the past half-hour.

He sighed, shaking his head. “No, it’s fine.”

“Wonwoo,” you deadpanned at him.

“It’s fine.”

“Oh my God—just give me it. It’ll take me two seconds to dig it out from your pocket and shove it in my damn purse. Besides, I can’t enjoy myself when the anxiety is emanating off you in waves.”

His knee immediately stopped jerking. Wonwoo looked you straight in the eyes, the stiffness turning him into straw. “Is it really?”

“Yes!” You laughed quietly, your head hunkering down on his shoulder for a brief moment. “Now, give me it please. Pretty please.”

Sliding a hand into the smooth pocket on his pants, Wonwoo began fishing out the small plastic baggie while puffing, “fuck—alright.”

“Gosh,” he heard you mumble while discreetly taking the capsules from him, rustling them into your purse, “you could never be a drug dealer, could you? How are you even friends with Vernon? That dude probably walks around with sample sizes taped to his jacket.”

“It’s different.”

“Is it?”

“Yeah,” Wonwoo was finally able to roll out his shoulders and relax—even give you a humorous little smirk, “I have a way better chance of escaping the drug dogs than he does. I’ll get a nice head start.”

His thigh was met with a slap before your hand pulled away. “I’m acting like I don’t know either of you.”

To be fair, Wonwoo couldn’t picture his bad-mouthed, fairly uncouth friend in a snotty establishment like Terra Cotta, especially considering his ideal places to eat were twenty-four-hour diners and cereal pantries belonging to girls whom he’d just slept with. The restaurant was no doubt beautiful, though it was definitely for the upper echelons who could not only afford it, but also act the pleasant, opulent guise.

At least the table that Princess reserved was a bit more separated from the other tables in the restaurant—it was close to a waterfall built into the wall, encompassed by all sorts of burnish-looking smooth stones.

Neither Seokmin or Mingyu were at the dinner—two absences that no one seemed to be questioning. To Wonwoo, that was a gigantic relief—he assumed you felt the same. Clara was there, seated further down the table, but Bells wasn’t. Seungcheol was an obvious guest, and besides you, he was the person that Wonwoo had spoken to the most since arriving at the restaurant—he’d even given Wonwoo the slip on his secret gift for his girlfriend, which was a two-week vacation to the Bahamas after the winter exam season.

Wonwoo was a little jealous.

He would love for you and him to vacation somewhere.

Maybe even take you back to South Korea.

“So, you guys,” Princess had started a conversation with you and Wonwoo from across the table, hands folded underneath her chin while she smiled kindly between you, “think you’ll come to the club after?”

You pouted at her, “we’re passing, babe. A million sorries.”

“Awe, that’s okay.” She reached across the pristine tablecloth to lay her hand over top yours. “You already took me out for my birthday, anyway. And let me vomit in your washroom for two hours.”

“Mmhm. You’d do the same for me.”

Princess giggled, her grin luminous and wholly genuine. “Oh, of course. I have already done it!”

“Well, you’ll have to tell me all about Room 319. The stories I’ve heard about that place—sounds like some shit from a movie.”

“Trust me, you’ll get the entire script in a bound book. I know the club thing isn’t for everyone—that’s why I did the dinner. And I’m doing cupcakes instead of cake! Remember those red velvet cupcakes we had that one night? And then that other night? Fuck—I couldn’t stop thinking about those damn things.”

“Oh, those were fucking delicious.”

“De-licious. Have you ever got to try one, Wonwoo?”

He swallowed, a bit jarred to be welcomed into their conversation that he had been happily listening to from the sidelines.

“I tried one. I liked it.”

Princess gasped at him. “Only liked? Be serious!”

“Well, ask me again later tonight. I wasn’t having it fresh.”

“I will be asking. How’s Vernon? I’m sad he couldn’t make it.”

“Oh, he’s fine. Sometimes he just mysteriously disappears from town for a couple days—I don’t ask because I don’t want to know. But, uh, he did leave me with a gift for you… if you didn’t already know.”

“Oh… oh! Right!” Princess straightened up, nodding. “Yeah, I remember. You can give it to me when we leave. Outside.”

“I have it actually,” you clarified, flickering a transient look at the tiny purse you had moved onto the table,  “when we take a girl’s trip to the washroom, you can have it. The dose is pretty high. I know I don’t have to worry about you and this stuff, but be careful, y’know?”

“Of course. Just make sure you hide the purse in your lap when the waiter comes back. They love offering to take bags and satchels and all that stuff to hang in the coat room.” After clearing her throat with a sip from her pink, frothy champagne, Princess curiously poked at you two. “So, how do you guys plan to spend the rest of your night?”

Wonwoo opted not to speak.

You grabbed your wine glass, swirling the aromatic alcohol around inside while shrugging. “Not sure. It’s chilly out. Hope you don’t freeze your tits off standing outside in the mile long line for the club.”

“That’s what this push-up is for. The padding’s so toasty warm.”

Laughing with Princess, you ended up snorting.

Seungcheol, who was sat beside his girlfriend and had been occupied in speaking to a friend Wonwoo forgot the name of, finally parted from his conversation, turning his head at the last second to hear the giggling.

“Push-up? What are you guys talking about?”

You shook your head. “Nothing—just her bra.”

“Oh,” Seungcheol mumbled, “what about her bra?”

Princess smiled. “Just that with all this padding it’s got, it’ll keep me nice and warm when I’m waiting outside. Perfectly insulated.”

Rubbing a thumb and index finger along his jaw, Seungcheol grinned all relaxed-like while Princess rolled her dark brown eyes at his comment, the gold accents in her inner corners glimmering.

“I bet my hands would be a lot more efficient. Nothing warmer than skin on skin as they say.”

She shoved his shoulder half-heartedly. “Who says that? Now, bedroom eyes away before I make you wear a bag over your head.”

“I don’t see a bag here.”

“As the birthday girl, I’m pretty sure I can request one.”

The dinner officially wrapped up around ten at night. Wonwoo was able to reaffirm with Princess that the red velvet cupcakes were indeed moist and delicious. As everyone stood right outside the restaurant in the nippy, cold November weather, giving hugs and farewells to those who weren’t clubbing, he made sure to wish Princess probably the twentieth happy birthday she’d heard that night. He waited for you to give her another speech about staying safe but still having fun, sprinkled with lots of “I love you’s” and inside jokes that Wonwoo wondered if he would ever understand, before you two left on your own.

Each time he spoke, his breath would come to life in a warm wisp from his mouth, meanwhile the streets lights reflected in the melted snow all over the sidewalk he aimlessly wandered down, with you sticking close to his side. It hadn’t been a heavy snow, at least.

“Be honest,” you said, glancing toward Wonwoo, “how relieved are you that we’re not going to the club? On a scale of one to ten.”

“Is ten the most relieved?”

“Yeah.”

He looked at you, completely unabashed. “Ten.”

Kissing your teeth, you nodded. “That’s what I expected.”

“So,” Wonwoo hummed, stopping beside you at the intersection while waiting for the crosswalk light to change, “what now?”

Your eyebrows raised. “Still want to do something?”

As the cars whipped past, throwing up brisk winds and exhaust into the twinkling city atmosphere, Wonwoo shrugged. “The night is young.”

“What's on your mind?”

“We’re not far from Centertown. It’s maybe a fifteen-minute walk or so at this point. There’s a bar there I want to try. The Honeymoon.”

He was glad you didn’t seem opposed.

“Sure. I’m down.”

Once the crosswalk was open and the floods of people started pressing forward, there was somebody who passed them—somebody who almost went completely unnoticed by Wonwoo until his memory reloaded and he suddenly found himself pausing to observe over his shoulder.

You pulled at his sleeve. “What?”

“Uh, nothing,” Wonwoo replied, wetting his dry lips while heeding your polite tug, “the woman that passed us—she’s dressed exactly like this prostitute that Vernon told me he saw last winter, hanging outside Room 319. She has the heels and everything.”

“What the fuck. Really?”

“Mmhm,” he laughed, “he called her Pink Heels Lady. To be honest, I thought he was lying… but I’m pretty sure that was her.”

“Spooky. Coincidence or fate, do you think?”

Wonwoo glanced at you, seeing the intrigued smile on your face.

“I don’t know, actually,” he responded after the question hovered around in his mind for an oddly long second, deciding to pick up your hand in is, “I assume it’s just the universe working its magic.”

Wonwoo was never particularly into bars, although he could tolerate them much more than a club despite their parallels. The seedy lighting, deafening music, and signature throw-up gutter in the street or alleyway right outside the building was crucial to both, he had realized.

The Honeymoon was a newer bar that had garnered some notable buzz. It was less like a pub, being slightly more formal with a touch of modernity that had landed it just below presumptuous, in Wonwoo’s opinion. At least the music wasn’t overbearing, nor was there intoxicated, flush-faced men hollering at sports teams on televisions that would never hear them. You decided to sit at the counter, sliding onto the heightened chairs and leaving your jackets draped over the low backs.

You bristled, shaking out your shoulders. “I’m cold.”

Wonwoo cupped his hands overtop your icy cheeks for a moment, allowing some of his warmth to seep into your skin.

“A drink will fix that right up.”

“How are your hands hotter than mine? You’re always freezing.”

He smiled at you, letting you have your face back. “I can warm them up at will to your benefit.” Wonwoo joked, bumping his knee against yours. “What do you think of the place?”

Your lip pursed as you glanced around, examining the bartenders filling up glasses with their silvery, shiny spouts, and then over your shoulder at the numerous other tables occupied by the city’s strangers. For a frigid November night, it was quite full.

“It’s nice. The lighting is pretty. Reminds me of Alley Cat.”

“Oh, yeah. Vernon took me there once to celebrate my exams being done, then he got into a fist fight with this university student over something I can’t remember—smashed a glass on the dude’s head.”

Predictably, your eyes rolled. “Only Vernon is getting into fist fights at Alley Cat.”

Wonwoo chuckled. “Well, now he can’t get into fist fights there at all—management banned him and the other guy. Apparently, they’ve got this back wall of people who’ve been kicked out and he’s on there.”

“Figures,” you sighed.

“Oh my gosh! Wonwoo? It’s you!”

At the sound of his name being excitedly called, Wonwoo was soon met with the surprised but cheerful expression coloured to Sierra’s freckled face. He hadn’t forgotten that she worked there, but he was clueless about her schedule. She looked very pretty, glowing in a halo almost, with her coarse, reddish-brown hair pulled back slick into a ponytail and a crisp, clean black uniform tailored to fit her perfectly.

Wonwoo grinned. “Hey there. I didn’t know you worked tonight.”

Sierra set one hand onto the lacquered wood counter while the other stuck to her hip. “I don’t usually. Fridays are game nights with my little sister. But there was a call-in. A little extra cash never hurt.” The girl’s big, round eyes then flitted to you. “Her, right? I don’t think we’ve ever met formally. I know you’re one smart cookie, though.”

“I’d like to think so,” you answered, smiling back at Sierra, “you were at the party, weren’t you? The one Seungcheol threw this summer?”

She nodded, “I was. I made a few drinks here and there.”

“I never got to taste one,” you frowned, pouting.

Throwing up her hands, Sierra was quick to exclaim with her typical charisma and sugar sweetness, “what! Preposterous! I think I’m pretty wicked at it. What are you thinking of having?”

“To be honest, I’m not looking for anything too fancy at the moment. In fifteen minutes from now, I won’t be able to promise the same. I’d like to start off with a rum and coke, if that’s alright. For now.”

Sierra grinned. “No, that’s perfect. What about you, Wonwoo?”

He shrugged. “I’ll have the same. For now.”

“Well, for now, I’ll start you guys off with two rum and cokes.”

Leaning his elbows onto the countertop, he threw her a question.

“How’s it going with Carmen?”

While she prepared the drinks, Sierra blossomed into a smile. “Oh, it’s going great. She’s genuinely a blast. We’re going to the movies next week—that horror one is coming out, about the swimming pool—we think it’s gonna suck but that’s what makes it fun.”

Once Sierra slid you the cold glass, you tilted your head at her while fixing your lips around the black straw. “Who’s Carmen?”

“My girlfriend.” Sierra answered. “We met here, actually.”

“Ugh, no way,” you swooned, pressing a cheek into your hand as the next drink was given to Wonwoo, “that’s so fucking adorable. Does she ever tell you how beautiful you look in that all-black uniform?”

Giggling, Sierra wiped down the countertop and flushed. “I’ve heard it many times. It’s honestly just a t-shirt and slacks!”

“Well, you’re making it work.”

“Please—my face is heating up! You’ve got quite the gorgeous dress on yourself, you know. I always wonder where you get all your clothes. Wonwoo, have you complimented her yet, tonight?”

Mixing the ice cubes together to hear the satisfying clinks using his straw, he answered easily. “It was the first thing out of my mouth.”

Sierra nodded in satisfaction. “Good! Well, I won’t hover. But if you need any refills or have any questions, you can try to flag me down—or ask Jamie! She’s just down there. She’s great at martinis. Later!”

Once Sierra had left to busy herself with tending to others waiting service at the counter, you looked to Wonwoo, lips downturned.

“Jeez, she’s so freaking nice. How come I don’t have that kind of natural charm? Not that I’m not charming. But hers is so… magnetic.”

“Everyone’s got their natural quirks.”

“Yeah, well, my natural quirk is that I’m probably going to down this in the next two minutes. And then have three more after that.”

Wonwoo rubbed a hand to your shoulder, smirking into the glass that he raised to his mouth. “Just focus on the one you have now.”

3 more rum and cokes (+ 1 martini) later.

“No, no—but then, it gets even worse! Because not only had she been lying straight to his face the entire time, so was his best friend! They were seeing each other for weeks and weeks—he had no idea. What gave it away though, was the perfume. He was always telling her not to wear heavy perfumes and stuff because it will leave a scent on the sheets, but she messed up—so they freaked it, she spends the night, and then the next day when he’s over, he goes into his friend’s room looking for a charger and smells the perfume on the sheets! He puts it together! And then, and then—”

You paused, picking up the wide-mouthed martini glass to take a sip in the midst of your long-winded and passionate adultery story that Wonwoo had been struggling to follow for the past blurred time interval, the names now completely lost on his ears. There was hardly anything left in your glass, which led to your frustrated grumble, followed by an attempt to flag down the bartender, Jamie.

However, Wonwoo swiftly caught your hand despite his own impaired state, lowering it back to the countertop.

“Okay, I think that’s enough.” He pushed forward the cup of water he requested for you. “The least you can be right now is hydrated.”

Although you weren’t happy about his thwarting, you did yield to the advice and drink some of the water. Wonwoo knew he should probably have some himself after his own splurge on the bar’s pricy concoctions, but he still felt that he was holding up quite well. Before Jamie could whisk by again, he made sure to ask for another cup.

“So, what happened next?” Wonwoo nudged your elbow while you stared off cluelessly, urging you to continue the story.

“What?”

“He smells her perfume on the bedsheets. Now what?”

However, you were suddenly slumping forward, forehead nestled into your hands. For a moment, you stayed like that without word, until Wonwoo couldn’t help his concern and touched at your bare shoulder.

“Not feeling well?”

You shook your head, whining out, “no, no. It’s not that.”

He frowned, scooting to the edge of his chair and securing his arm across your shoulders. His voice was softer and closer against your warm cheek as he attempted to gauge that sour, twisted expression past your concealing hands, wanting to understand your hiding.

“Well, am I allowed to know what’s bothering you?”

Again, you remained silent, biting your lip. There was such tenseness in your body that he could simply feel with just his arm.

Wonwoo leaned back, instead tugging at your wrist. “Can I at least see your face? Please?” You didn’t budge. “Her, you’re worrying me a bit, here. Do you need me take you home—”

“Okay, I have something to tell you.” Breaking abruptly from your husk, you were now staring straight and square at Wonwoo with distinct inebriation cloudy in your eyes, although there was something else too that compelled Wonwoo to bite his tongue and listen. “Honestly, I think I’ve held onto this long enough. And, I’ve wanted to confess this to you for a while now, but there was just so much debris in my life that I needed to sort through first. But you’re beyond important to me, and I just think that it’s time you finally know… so, can I tell you?”

“Um…”

Wonwoo’s throat was suddenly bone-dry and his pulse had spiked to the point where he could feel a vein along his neck start throbbing—he even pondered waving down the bartender for another drink to pacify his growing nerves.  

Ultimately, Wonwoo wouldn’t last that long. Pushing up his glasses, he nodded, noting that you hadn’t blinked once while you waited.

“Sure. Tell me.”

Your upper lip twitched.

“Mingyu’s been cheating on me, for two years.”

Wonwoo was quick to feel all his awareness become dull and drowned. He hardly registered his elbow shifting across the countertop, almost knocking over the glass of water onto the floor, nor did he realize the manner in which his mouth had subtly dropped open. You continued to stare at him with intensity, likely studying every tweak and fidget in his body language before swallowing deeply and choosing to continue the revelation.

He tightened up his jaw, trying to seem firm.

You looked ashamed of yourself as you admitted, “it’s been going on for two years, and I’ve known for about a year.”

“Really?” He answered, sounding mystified. “An entire year?”

“Give or take.”

Then, Wonwoo was shaking his head. His fist had clenched up tight, though it wasn’t the usual automated response that accompanied his anxiety—he found there was immediate distaste and anger swirling together like storm clouds in the pit of his stomach.

Your gaze was cast to the water glass on the countertop, which you moved away for no apparent reason, your expression emptied.

After a frail sigh, you continued, “do you remember that day I came into creative writing and got super upset at that guy for sitting in my seat? Remember how we talked about it at the nature museum, and I told you that I had a fight with Mingyu before going to class?”

“Yeah…”

“Well, that day, I tried bringing it up to him. And it totally didn’t go over how I thought it would. Mingyu denied it all… of course, I only had some vague but suspicious texts to go off of, which he explained his way out of pretty poorly. But I just accepted it for the sake of our relationship. And I never brought it up again until… you know.”

Wonwoo let a natural, stagnant silence fall in between you, meanwhile the encompassing atmosphere was kept flowing by the various conversations of those around you—seemingly happy—with plenty to drink as they kept warm from the bitter cold just outside.

He was biting his tongue, though he couldn’t hold the question any longer, piquing his, “do you know who he was cheating with?”

A huff shot straight through your nose.

“I know…” you mumbled, “and you know her, too.”

Suddenly, a name popped to his mouth without thought.

“Bells.”

When you didn’t confirm nor deny, opting to stare off to the side to conceal the emotion springing forth, Wonwoo knew it was solid truth.

“Fuck…” he cursed, grazing his hand across the smooth leg that was folded over your knee, “I’m so sorry… I’m at a loss for words.”

You could only sigh while a glossy film developed in your eyes.

“I mean, I’ve been through all the stages already—grief, denial, acceptance—whatever the other ones are—so I don’t know why I’m still getting so choked up about it. I obviously didn’t want to believe it… I mean, who the fuck does? Especially when you truly do have feelings for that person.” Shaking your head and sniffling, you exasperatedly flicked out a hand. “Her and her stupid sparkles. That was when I really started putting it together. Oh, I’m going out to play poker, babe! And the next day, I’m wearing his sweater, and I realize there’s these fucking little bits of glitter on it, inside it—it was like a fucking beacon that was just screaming at me—hey! Your asshole boyfriend is cheating!”

That was something Wonwoo had noticed himself, after Bells had bumped into him at the party—the girl’s adoration for sparkly clothing and makeup essentially left behind a glaring trail of glimmery breadcrumbs. Wonwoo had found them on his clothes once he took them off and could really see the fabric underneath the light. The confession suddenly painted your actions that night in a new colour.

Rubbing against your temple, you explained further despite the struggle to speak over that clogged sound coming from your throat.

“It’s not like I’m stupid, either, even if right now, in this situation, I seem like it. I know what Bells is like… she’s spoiled rotten—always has been—and is used to getting whatever the fuck she wants. But, you see, that’s the thing! That’s the fucking thing! Seokmin, Clara, Bells, even Princess—I only met them because of the webs my parents have in their business world. I was never really allowed to find my own friends. It really just shows how much they had a say in my life… don’t misconstrue, I truly do love Princess and she’s by far the most normal, grounded person amongst them. She actually listens, and cares. But I was only allowed to befriend her ‘cause my parents know her parents.

Mingyu seemed like the one person I was actually able to connect with on my own… but he’s honestly changed so much. It’s like, my parents were able to get their little fangs in him and warp him. And now… I really don’t think he loves me at all… I think he loves my image, and what I represent, and the opportunities that come with me… but, I don’t think he actually, genuinely loves me like he used to... like, back then, he was so, so sweet. He was always fumbling over himself, nervous, trying his best. I mean, you've read about it! He used to want to be an architect, Wonwoo. A freaking architect! He sketched all the time. He has a closet drawer full of sketch books from when he was younger. But everything's different now. He doesn't care. He hates when I bring it up! He hates me!

And I don’t just think—I know it, Wonwoo. He resents me, but he won’t let go. Instead, he just sucks the life out of me, like he’s trying to get me to hate myself, too. And I do. I guess, as long as I hate myself, it makes me perfect in their eyes. I’ll just keep letting them mould me until I feel complete.”

Wonwoo didn’t know what to do.

Hell, he didn’t even know what to say except for the fact that you were right—as long as you always felt subpar, or lacking, or frustrated with your drought of true identity, it would lead you back to the reliance you had on the deceptive characters in your life—it was nothing but a miserable cycle designed to bog you down and snuff you out. At least your tearful eyes had dried up.

You looked at him fondly, with a gentle smile. “That’s what I like so much about you… even if you didn’t intend to—which I know you didn’t, judging from what I’ve heard about you trying to avoid writing with me—” (he bit his inner cheek coyly, casting a somewhat anxious hand through his hair), “—you helped me realize parts of myself that were always there, but only needed some nurturing. You actually encouraged me. Supported me. And—okay—I know I said that I hate myself—but since I’ve met you, I’ve been replacing it with an understanding of my situation. I’ve been kinder. I’ve been more of myself. I like to think what we have is a sort of symbiosis.”

Wonwoo nodded. “I think you’re right.”

“Do you think that I’m… stupid… for staying?”

Immediately, Wonwoo’s face furled in disagreement. “No, no. Absolutely not. Mingyu’s been with you for so long. He has an integral quality in your life. It would be difficult to uproot yourself just like that. No one’s a better judge of that situation than you.”

“You think?”

“I know.”

As you relaxed back into the bar chair, Wonwoo could practically see this heavy, dark mist levitate from you and dissipate into the air. He knew that feeling of relief and inner freedom very well, and there was almost nothing that could compare to it.

Wonwoo then sipped from his glass of water, continuing to watch the stiffness melt off you like ebbing spring snow. "So, what was his response like? To your accusations? Was he at least honest?"

"Yeah, I got it all out of him eventually," you revealed with a very cumbersome sigh. "But he was deflecting like crazy... I'd never seen him like that before... he was fumbling his words all over, like he used to when we were first dating. But it was different. It wasn't nerves, it was just blind anger. He said I was no better. I mean, he's convinced we've had sex, and he wouldn't accept my denial, no matter what."

"It's not black and white," Wonwoo said, squeezing your arm, "it seems to me like a natural consequence. You felt trapped and alone."

For a split second, Jeanie flashed in his mind. A sear of guilt snapped through him. Mingyu would have much reflecting to do.

Nodding your head, you looked to Wonwoo and graced him with the words he may or may not have been waiting months to hear: "it's all over now—Mingyu and I—I made that extremely clear. And I honestly don't care what anyone else has to say. My mom didn't want to believe it... she's been acting strange since. I don't blame her."

In response, he merely nodded, warming you up with his gentle eyes.

But then he was shifting forward in his seat, elbows settled to the counter. Although it was quite late and he felt exhausted from drinking, his curiosity about a particular matter was still sharp.

“So… I’m wondering… what's your reason for writing the book?”

You gulped. “I wanted a way of looking back on everything. Seeing if maybe I could find myself somewhere amongst all those memories. Maybe when I started losing Mingyu was when I started losing myself. Maybe that's when I realized I was losing myself. Maybe that's when I realized I never really knew myself to begin with.”

He shrugged, his face colouring with admiration for you.

“Well... have you found something?”

Your only means of response was a twinkle-eyed grin.

The walk back to your apartment wasn’t as dreadful as Wonwoo anticipated, mostly attributed to the alcohol soaking up in your stomachs, keeping your blood warm even in the face of a tough, harsh wind. Back when it wasn’t so late in the night and his lips had yet to touch his first rum and coke, Wonwoo thought he would take himself home after seeing you off first. But now it was almost midnight, and he had this impending feeling of vertigo while he walked, and he was therefore very limp to fight the offer that involved a comfortable stay at your place until morning.

Wonwoo wasn’t exactly sure where he deposited his coat or his shoes, or even his phone—instead he found himself sitting at the end of your bed, listening to the muffled sound of a running sink behind a closed door as you were busy in the washroom.

He leaned over, removing the glasses already slid down his nose and rubbing a palm into his eye until stars traversed the length of his vision. So, Lady Liberty was a cheater. For the past two years. It did bring Wonwoo to wonder what else Mingyu had said during your argument. Did he ever give a reason for cheating? Did he feel boxed into a life that wasn't the enriching utopia he surmised it might be, but he was toughing it out for the sake of success? Was he cheating because he was mad at you or mad at himself?

Or was he honestly just an asshole?

The Mingyu he was familiar with was shifty, and hardened, and image-obsessed, and now Wonwoo knew for a fact he wasn’t delusional for feeling the tension between you and him whenever you were together. God—he could practically cut all the thickness in the air using Seokmin’s nose and serve it like pieces of cake. But Mingyu hadn't always been like that according to your allegories. Deep down there could still be traces of the man you fell in love with, flickering like shiny little minnows beneath murky, clouded water.

But it was too late now.

Fitting his glasses back on, Wonwoo rolled back the sleeves to his crisp white dress shirt, proceeding to take a gander around your bedroom that he hadn’t revisited in quite some time.

The running sink in the washroom across the hall was finally turned off, although Wonwoo had stopped paying attention to the background noise in place of reading your every detail off the walls. In minuscule ways, the room had changed. There were missing photographs from the dresser, your makeup vanity drawers no longer left ajar in your likely last-minuting rushing to ensure everything was perfect. The closet seemed cleaned-out. Emptier than it once was.

“I thought you might fall asleep.”

He jumped slightly, realizing that you were in the bedroom now, setting down your heels in the corner before making a stride toward the closet where the dress over your arm was hung back up.

Wonwoo bit his lip. “I questioned it.”

You smiled, and within that moment he noticed the long t-shirt you were draped in was the dark blue, logoed math shirt, the one you’d picked after sprinting back to his apartment amidst a rain storm. He felt something in his chest swell and ache in response to how pretty you looked wearing it. Wonwoo knew he was staring, blushing, but he didn’t care. You had two of his t-shirts now. He hoped that collection might continue growing. He hoped that you wore them until his scent was naturally replaced by the strawberry sweetness of your own.

“Thinking about anything in particular?” You asked, arms folded.

Slapping a guilty little grin on his face, Wonwoo shrugged. “No.”

But then you started striding toward Wonwoo, uttering out something half-whispered that sounded a lot like “liar”, and now he truly wasn’t thinking about a damn thing, not even his own breath, as you proceeded to slide your arms around his neck and seat yourself in his lap. He was frozen. You hadn’t been this fucking close to him since you two had cuddled during Seungcheol’s party.

But this was worse—this was full-throttle intimacy with your penetrative, fluttering eyes eating up his soul while your bare thighs squeezed the sense out of him, trapping him, testing him.

“Scared?” You whispered, moving your face in closer.

Yes—he was horrified—he couldn’t even speak with you smiling at him so innocently despite the flames you were igniting.

Though, when he felt a wriggle from your hips that seemed to push against him in all the right places, Wonwoo’s hands were immediate on your waist, tight and stilling, and he swore there was a vulnerable, pliant spark in your eyes that he had never seen before. Maybe Wonwoo could have been more polite about the approach, but after waiting so, so long, he felt like a rocket ship rife with fuel.

He kissed you.

In one decision his lips were pressed to yours, and in a kiss that was full of friction and earnest want, he could only dig deeper. Your arms curled further around his neck, to which you slipped in a quick, sharp breath before pouring yourself back into him so suddenly, mouths moulding again and again, spit slickening, noses bumping. He would have paused to take off his glasses, though Wonwoo was in no place to leave your lips for even a second—especially when your playful tongue glided with his and the world around him melted like wax.

Maybe he was biased (or maybe it was love), but Wonwoo swore it had never felt this right to kiss someone. He knew it, somewhere outside himself, far out in the ever-expanding universe and every other version that belonged, that this moment felt destined to happened. Wonwoo had never particularly believed in fate.

But then he wouldn’t know how else to describe you.

His hands itching to touch more of your skin had gravitated to the thighs clenching at his hips. Your warmth and smoothness only made him greedier. As the kissing became messy in the desperation, he couldn’t help but slide his hands to your ass, immediately kneading his cold fingers into the flesh, pulling, squeezing, pushing you closer into him because he quite literally wanted you to engulf his body.

Then, you were gripping at the back of his hair. You had opened up his throat for your wet lips to continue exploring, and Wonwoo felt every suckle and teething bite draw him further from clarity.

Each kiss slithered lower, until you were gradually lifting from his lap and placing yourself onto the carpet floor. Wonwoo had leaned back to tightly fist the bedsheets behind him, although he would never waver his lusted eyes from the sight of you between his spread legs, on your knees, palming him overtop his dress pants while biting your swollen, glistening lip. He almost wanted the camcorder to capture it.

“How does it feel?” You hummed, staying focused on each pressured movement your hand applied to his prominent erection.

Wonwoo chuckled, clearing the huskiness in his throat, “like I’m gonna die.” His head tilted back. “Holy shit.”

Flashing nothing but a conniving, pleased smile, you tended to undoing his belt buckle. Wonwoo was burning up. As you pulled down the zipper to his pants and helped him shift down the waistband to his underwear an adequate distance, he couldn’t process anything but the fact that he might burst like an explosion of confetti the second your hand would touch him.

Except, you opted to sit back on your haunches.

Tilting your head, you smirked at him.

“I would like a demonstration, please.”

He almost choked. “A what?”

“A demonstration,” you repeated, shuffling closer in between his thighs and gazing up much too seraphically through your lashes, “won’t you show me how you touch yourself, Wonwoo? Please?”

For the life of him, he couldn’t produce one stupid fragment of a sentence, or even a word. God—it didn’t fucking help that you took reign and offered to get him started—your hand carefully reaching past his underwear, gripping onto him gently to spring his erection free. A shiver surged throughout his body at the sensation. Hotness spread like molten lava across his face as the result of your lascivious, teasing actions stood leaking and stiffer than wood right before your eyes, which were agleam with thrill and haze.

You seemed as though you were going to pounce on him.

But he could visibly see you swallow the temptation.

“Aww, you have the prettiest dick I’ve ever seen,” you giggled, wrapping a hand around him that was soft and warm, “would it make you feel better if I started you off, then? Gave you some help?”

Wonwoo’s fists were tangled so intensely into the bedsheets he was surprised the fabric hadn’t disintegrated. Holding his breath, he watched you lean forward until your mouth was hovering an agonizing distance over him, only to produce a line of spit that dripped onto his head. His jaw unhinged in a groan. Then you began working the saliva along his shaft, pumping a hand up and down, occasionally flickering your thumb over the sensitive tip only to remove the contact so casually, likely knowing it would rip him apart.

“Your turn.”

He took a second to push up his glasses and shake his head.

“M’not gonna last long, you know,” Wonwoo grunted, at last heeding your request and beginning to stroke himself for your viewing pleasure, “especially after that big display. You fucking tease.”

With an arm slid over his thigh and the drool collecting in your mouth, you couldn’t have looked anymore dazzled by the thirst you were experiencing, your eyes refusing to part from every tug delivered by his own hand. It was a spell, and you were unapologetically under it.

“Mmm, a tease?” You purred, smiling. “I was just trying to help.”

“Were you?” Wonwoo scoffed, pumping faster while continuing to twist up the bedsheets using his other hand. “Rubbing your fucking spit into my cock is tt-trying to help me? Is that what you think?”

“Mmhm,” you answered, straightening up as Wonwoo felt himself become tenser, felt the pressure in his abdomen climb.

He shuddered, a groan reverberating from somewhere deep in his chest. The sound of his fist wetly slapping up and down consumed the room and Wonwoo knew it was only a matter of seconds before he lost it. You were basking in every sound and movement.

“Fuck, fuck, I-I can't—”

Suddenly, you’d pushed Wonwoo’s hand away. His stomach flipped upside down. Before he could recognize the brief loss and regain of pleasure, your suckling, wet, hot mouth was already sliding down around his erection, your grip fastening to whatever you couldn’t quite reach. Wonwoo bit his lip so hard at the sensation that something coppery-warm was tasted on his tongue, although that was the least of his concerns when you were throating him with messy desperation. His hand rested on your scalp, nervous to push your head down too firmly, but once he did, you moaned out so erotically around him that Wonwoo fragmented.

His hips bucked straight into your face while his fingers had tightened at the back of your scalp, feeling every intense throb expand against your throat, spurt after spurt filthy in your mouth. But you were diligent and zealous and Wonwoo knew you were swallowing it all despite the few tears trickling onto his pelvis. His length didn’t leave the velvet, pillowy confines of your mouth until every bit was expertly milked out from him, though had Wonwoo let his hand drift off your hair in case you wanted a breath.

With a hiccup and a wipe against your chin, you were tasting the bedroom’s heavy air and exhaling ragged as Wonwoo marvelled you.

“Trying to take my soul with you or something?” He huffed, using his thumb to remove some leftovers from the side of your lips.

You caught his hand in an instant. “No—” you piped up, quick to close your mouth around the digit and suck off whatever he politely removed, laving your tongue like you were licking a popsicle, “—I want all of it.”

He thought he might crumble, hearing you mumble such obscene words while tracks of tears dried overtop your cheeks, your voice sounding somewhat hoarse from the labour of taking him whole.

You were climbing back onto Wonwoo’s lap almost blindly, his next breath taken away by a passionate kiss you pushed so fervently onto his lips. There was another tangling of tongues, saliva mixing together, but neither attempting to take control— though at this point Wonwoo would gladly oblige to throwing you on the bed and twisting off those frustrating panties he imagined were sticking to you. He could feel your arousal dampening through the baby pink cotton as his length twitched back to hardness underneath you.

“Wonwoo,” you whined breathily into his ear while grinding your hips against him in search of friction, “I’ve got to tell you something I did.” You bruised up his neck with more kisses. “Something bad.”

His eyes were shut, hands continuing to grope your ass. “Yeah?” He mumbled, feeling your tongue drag across a vein in his neck. “You did something bad? What could that be?”

Your hands drifted down his chest, yanking open the buttons on his dress shirt in satisfying pops. Warm, feathery breath hit his ear. “That day I stayed the night in your bedroom… alone…” you kissed him on his mouth, letting it linger and last, “I couldn’t help it.”

Wonwoo had gripped the side of your face, meanwhile he rubbed underneath the waistband to your tiny, thin underwear.

“Couldn’t help what?”

He flinched as your hand sunk down to grab his cock.

“I touched myself,” you confessed just an inch from his face, “I laid back against your pillows, spread my legs all wide… I had my fingers stuffed so deep inside myself, but it still didn’t feel like enough.” Again, you were softly stroking him. Wonwoo continued to uphold that unwavering, painfully honest gaze you were pinning him in. “Nd’ I came all over your t-shirt, Wonwoo. I played with myself until my fingers were cramping and my legs couldn’t stay open anymore.”

He gulped—heavy—like swallowing a chunk of lead. His tender thumb grazed along your cheek and rubbed over your puffy lips. “I wanted to fuck you so bad that night,” Wonwoo soothed your confession with another, which was already quite obvious, “I dreamt about it. I wanted to bury myself so fucking deep inside your gut.”

You shook your head, eyes teary. “Why didn’t you?” He felt the delicate stroking motion along his erection come to a pause.

Wonwoo cradled your cheek. “It would have fucked everything up.”

“But I wanted it,” you whimpered. “I’ve been wanting it for so long and you just left me there. I would have been quiet. You could have put me face down in the pillows and just used me all you wanted.”

“No,” Wonwoo argued, “I would never want to use you. I want us to be together in everything. I know you wanted it. But lust makes you think different. Just like it’s making you think different right now.”

He softly slotted his mouth with yours, exchanging a much slower, sweeter kiss that lit a glow in his belly. You puddled right into the contact, curling your arms back around his neck to hold him tighter.

Much lighter kisses dappled the edges of your lips.

Wonwoo could feel you start to smile.

“I figured something was off the next morning,” he said.

You chuckled, “I didn’t know how to face with you without thinking about it. I felt so dirty. But in the moment, I needed something.”

He nipped down your slender neck, letting his hot breath and reverberating, husky tone tickle your skin until your hairs stood up.

“How wet were you?” Wonwoo purred, smirking.

Immediately, your hips were pushing down on him. “Soaked,” you then whispered, “I was making such a mess. I tried so hard to be quiet. But part of me wanted you to hear.”

Wonwoo’s hands drifted up your t-shirt, gliding slow against your stomach, coming to reach the plump, sensitive breasts that he could only surmise were waiting for his attention. He cupped them in each palm, giving a tender squeeze and pull that pitched your breath into a squeak. Caressing your neck with more wet, open-mouthed kisses, he felt the absentminded grinding reignite the friction between you.

“Did you touch up here, too?”

His thumbs brushed your pert nipples. He felt you shiver.

“Y-Yes.”

Tsking his teeth, he pleasured them with slow, rubbing circles that you mewled in response to. “You’ve got the softest skin. I could touch you until I die, and it still wouldn't be enough.”

“Mmhm,” he heard you exhale shakily, “I touch myself at home, too. Put my pillow between my legs. Pretend I’m grinding against you. Then let my fingers take me again and again until it hurts.”

How dare you fucking say that to him—how dare you put such an intimate visual in his mind to haunt him like a ghost to hallowed grounds. How many times had you done it? How many times had you stood right in front of him, smiling so innocently, despite knowing damn well what you had done to yourself the night before.

Wonwoo pinched your nipples, watching you flinch.

“Does it hurt right now?”

You nodded.

“Where?” He lowered his voice, sinking his hand back down the creases in your tummy until it paused right on your mound, his eyes trained to your suddenly very desperate, misty look. “Down here?”

“Yes.”

Holding eye contact with you, Wonwoo trailed his hand further along your panties until his touch was situated right between your thighs, directly feeling the wet fabric, the radiating heat, the aroused pulsations. Your fingernails were pricks in his shoulders.

“Fuck, you are drenched, aren’t you?” Wonwoo commented, rubbing his hand against you through the cotton material, your hips soon chasing the overwhelming pleasure. “Can feel you throbbing against my hand, you know that? Bet it aches so fucking good, hm?”

He grinned hard at your eyebrows knitting together. While he massaged you with one hand, the other gripped your chin where he pushed a hot, uncoordinated kiss onto your whiny mouth.

“Lay across my lap,” Wonwoo whispered in between the hasty break for air, “let me play with you instead, make you cum. Please.”

To his delight, your compliance came easily.

It didn’t take long for you to splay yourself in the desired position, with Wonwoo pushing up the shirt to bunch at your waist while your bottom was perfectly presented in his lap. He massaged you, leaning down to mark a trail of kisses along your lower back, along your ass—spreading you wide to see the large, soaked patch glistening on those easily rippable underwear.

“Just open your thighs a bit more,” Wonwoo instructed, to which you quickly listened, “fuck—perfect—all this, only for me.” He pushed his thumb against you through the panties and you instantly squeaked.

“Right?” He urged. “Is this all just for me?”

“Mmhm—yes, yes. I fucking promise. Just for you.”

Wonwoo bit his lip to stop the size of the immediate smile from breaking across his face. Your hips wriggled up as his touch drifted away.

“I need more,” you groaned in frustration, “please.”

“More here?” Wonwoo pulled back on one side of your glute to help reveal the sensitive area, then rubbing his thumb against your clit.

Your entire body jerked, and he noticed your fingers dig into the bedsheets, clawing them up. He figured the wet friction between his thumb and your panties was frustratingly amplifying every little sensation in a dull but very cruel way. He continued his ministrations, adding some more pressure for you to squirm and moan at.

“Does it still hurt?” Wonwoo asked, letting his other hand slide up your bare waist, the skin beginning to sweat and turn even warmer.

“Please,” you groaned, attempting to adjust your hips against the stroking from his thumb, “I feel like m’gonna fucking die, Wonwoo.”

“Still need more, then?”

“Yes!”

Deciding to throw you a bone, Wonwoo grabbed those thin, pink panties in his hand and helped you slide the constricting fabric down and off your legs. Once he spread you nice and wide, let the cold air ghost the slicken, swollen skin, you had gasped. For a moment, Wonwoo didn’t speak—he only stared at you with all the stars in the universe collecting behind his eyes, glittering like a snow globe—at how beautiful and exposed and needy you looked.

He let his fingers slide ever so slowly along your clit, drawing up to your hole, then pushing back down to hear you whimper brokenly.

Wonwoo swallowed the dryness in his throat.

“Do you have any fucking idea how beautiful you are?” He complimented, his fingers soaking in your arousal. “I knew your cunt would look pretty, but this is more than that. God…” experimentally, Wonwoo shifted a finger gentle into your opening, giving the digit a wriggle and few shallow pumps. Immediately your intense warmth clenched down tight before loosening, engendering him to effortlessly press in two more long fingers. “There you go… good girl…” he mumbled his encouragement as you gripped the bedsheets and moaned a guttural sound, “taking in my fingers so fucking well—they slide in so easy… make such perfect, dirty noises whenever they fill up this gorgeous cunt.”

His thumb touched at your clit, lending it some attention that had you twisting and bucking back to receive even more pleasure.

“God, Wonwoo…” you gasped, sounding lost to the ecstasy while letting him take his time with mapping out your inner walls with curious strokes, “that feels so fucking good. You have no idea. Feels like m’gonna pour all over you.”

He grinned, further stimulating your swollen clit, maintaining the pattern as you propped up on your elbows, tugged at the bedspread, and released a mellifluous, shuddering moan from your throat.

“F-fuck ye-yess…” you whined as his fingers squelched deeper and his thumb continued its circles, “yes, yes, yes, keep doing that—oh-oh, fuck! M’gonna cum all over your fingers—m’gonna make a mess!”

“That’s all I want,” he breathed, his chest tightening at how much arousal was pooling sticky around his digits, “that’s all I’ve ever fucking wanted—make a mess all over me, like the pretty, desperate girl you are. Let me see it. Let me feel everything. Cum just for me.”

Your entire body proceeded to seize, Wonwoo’s fingers now struggling to pump, as this striking wave seemingly coursed through you and resulted in heavy fluids wetting his dress pants. It took a moment for you to power through the pleasure, though Wonwoo was at least able to maintain his stroking gestures against your clit until he noted the sharp, almost spastic twitches in your muscles.

“That’s a good girl,” Wonwoo hummed in satisfaction while he gingerly eased his fingers out and left your poor, throbbing bud alone.

He smoothed his hand down your back, offering you a moment to relax, breathe, and ride out the electricity.

“Fuck,” you wiped at the sweat on the back of your neck, chuckling at the discomfort, “I can feel it all between my legs.”

Wonwoo smirked. Hard. He bent forward to peck your temple, then brushed his lips against your stinging hot ear. "How about I clean that all up for you?" The velvety whisper caused your body to jitter.

"Clean me up how?" You turned your head, catching his eye.

There was a swap of positions. Wonwoo lowered himself to the bedroom floor, the carpet spongey against his knees, while you lay down on your back and draped your legs off the edge of the bed. But he was hungry for you, and greedier than a treasure hunter, and you went limp as he hitched your knees over his broad shoulders.

Being face to face with your intimate heat was like the kiss of life—new energy was taking over him—giving him desire unlike any other.

He didn't know if he wanted to keep staring at you, your soft skin messy with slick and twitching anticipatorly at his closeness, or if he should stop prolonging the moment and just bury everything into you. Adjusting his glasses, Wonwoo licked his bitten lips. You were in the midst of shuffling up to your elbows, likely wondering what the hell he doing, staring between your thighs for so long.

But as quickly as you squeaked his name, it was interrupted by an intense gasp a second later. You leaned all your weight onto a single elbow, tossing your head back, panting for dear life as Wonwoo striped his tongue long and flat against your heat. His hands gripped your hips, sculpting them over your bone while he tasted your arousal, all sticky and musky and delicious to the point of addiction.

"O-Oh my god, Wonwoo," you cried, letting your body collapse onto the bedsheets, limbs becoming jelly, "that feels fucking amazing."

He licked into you like he were trying to reach the centre of a sweet, colourful jawbreaker. Every pass from his tongue was firm, encompassing, smothering you in pleasure and painting you with spit. But you reacted best when he toyed his ministrations around your sensitive clit—your back would jolt off the bed, arched, as your thighs hugged him tight—Wonwoo heard your begging akin to a distant echo. He would even smile into you, glasses all foggy, chin running in wetness, as you preached his name dumbly, losing your mind. Wonwoo pressed his mouth hot against you, flicking his tongue to your overstimulated clit, focusing hard on his pattern.

"Fuck, fuck!" You shouted, writhing into the sheets. "Please, Wonwoo. Please, please, please—I'm—I'm gonna cum! Please, just—k-keep—"

There was a surge of something warm and liquid that Wonwoo wanted to drink like a peach's nectar. You were throbbing right under his tongue and he loved it to a point that felt utterly insane. He didn't want to stop even if the world was ending. His face plunged in deeper, his hands grafting into your hips harsher, completely ignorant to your fingers pulling at his hectic locks of hair. Wonwoo only wanted you and nothing else and he was going to drown in it.

But you were attempting to sit up, your sweaty body becoming better at escaping his eager, hungry licks that dug into your slit, and once he heard you wince particularly sharp, he knew he had to stop.

He sat back, removing his glasses and wiping off his chin. You slid a leg from his shoulder, using a foot to gently prod against his chest—a light scolding for perhaps enjoying you a little too much.

"Are you starved?" You laughed heavily, gulping down a breath.

Wonwoo fit the glasses back to his face. "For you? Yes." He then licked at his teeth and lips, still yearning to find traces of your arousal, only to realize you were shaking. "Shit—I'm sorry if I hurt you." Standing up, he cupped your face, bending down to kiss you gentle on the lips over and over. "I'm so fucking sorry. You taste amazing, that's all. And you're so beautiful. I couldn't fucking help it."

With a giggle, you tousled his hair. "No, I'm fine. I like a little pain." Your eyes were back to shining. Then, you caught his mouth, stealing another kiss. "But I’m even greedier than you—," pushing yourself up, you nipped at his lips, “—and I want that pretty, long cock inside me to hit all the right spots.” The exchange had you seated back in Wonwoo’s lap, where your bare, soaked pussy was free to brush against his straining and achingly hard length.

“Yeah?” Wonwoo smirked, welcoming your spit-smeared mouth.

Feeling your hips grind against him, you purred, “yeah.”

“I’ve got no protection,” Wonwoo admitted in between the make-out session, hardly able to pry your lips from one another as you slid backward on the bed with Wonwoo climbing over top.

Helping to shove off his dress shirt and slacks, discarding them to the floor, you shook your head. “Don’t need it.”

Returning the gesture, Wonwoo had you fully undressed. The entirety of your bare body on full display felt like something sacred—an artwork that had been crafted with unimaginable attentiveness to every single detail, no matter how miniscule. He couldn't liken it to anything else in his life but a distant memory from childhood—a grand mausoleum that he found himself inside with his older brother, the ceiling intricately chiselled with angelic, satin-like bodies.

Your words seemed distant. It took a second for him to remember.

“Don't need protection? Why?"

As your hands locked behind his neck, pulling him down close, you dug into his eyes with an emotional gaze. “Finish inside me.”

He stuttered, furrowing his brow, “seriously? You won’t—”

“No. I’m taking precautions, you know.” Brushing at his dampened, thick hair, you asked, “have you ever had unprotected sex?”

Wonwoo scoffed, surprised at the inquiry, “yeah. But—is that—you really want that? With me?” He stared down at you intensely.

“I only want it if you want it, too.”

He nodded, biting his lip, taking a moment to examine your perspiring face alongside the the rising and dipping of your chest.

“I want it,” Wonwoo reaffirmed, “I definitely want it.”

Truth be told, a splinter of nerves had lodged into his chest at the thought of having to perform to your anticipation—Wonwoo was never really sure if he would ever get intimate with you—and as his gaze again streamed your body, he felt overwhelmed. But then your fingertips were stroking down his bicep, seemingly drawing out the forthcoming anxiety from him like you were pulling out a thread of energy, and the easygoing smile he was met with tamed his heart.

Wonwoo eased closer toward you, allowing your expert touches to be the guide. Your hand had returned to his length for a few more thorough and especially lentamente tugs, prompting him to hiss into your neck while very flushed shades of pink crawled up his face.

He felt himself throb, wanting to simply collapse against you and climax at your hand for the second time. To make matters even more complicated, Wonwoo felt you shift slightly, and then the tip of his impatient cock was suddenly gliding all slippery like butter along your folds. Wonwoo’s arms started to shake.

You laid your palm gentle against his neck.

“How’s that feel?” You whispered in a trembling breath, meanwhile continuing the heavenly ministrations of tracing your clit with his length. “I-I think it feels quite nice—getting you all wet.”

“Amazing,” he answered, pressing his forehead to yours and pecking at your lips, “you want me to take it from here?”

Keeping silent, your grip drifted from his erection and you seemed satisfied to let the control sway now that Wonwoo was adjusted. Just before he aligned himself, however, he looked at you and laughed.

“Can you push up my glasses real quick?”

You chuckled, “seriously?”

“What’s wrong with wanting to be see you properly?”

“Nothing,” you flashed a tender smile, then using your finger to help position the glasses back up his nose, “there you go.”

Wonwoo proceeded to slide himself inside you at a slower pace that allowed him to bask in the intimate sensation—he made damn sure every little squeeze, flutter, and convulsion your heat cushioned him with was felt—though that made it considerably hard for him not to release in pathetic fashion, before he had even made a good, swift thrust. You were soaking up the moment just as much.

He didn’t want to advert his eyes from the pleasure cascading like ripples across your face for even a second. Once he was buried in still and deep, completely stuffing you to the hilt, your breath had fogged up his glasses.

“Fuck—s-sorry—” you squirmed through the apology, your hips occasionally canting against his in unbridled twitches, “—I can hardly fucking think right now. Do you know how much you’re throbbing?”

He choked out a hoarse laugh, “do you know how insanely good you feel to me? Feels like m’gonna fucking break into a million pieces. ”

“I want you to break me into a million pieces,” you whined so needily, looping your arms around his neck, “fuck me, Wonwoo. Please.”

He was positive you had told him that in a dream once.

As euphoric as you felt clenching around him, Wonwoo truly did want the sex to last. His thrusts into your heat weren’t frantically impatient, rather they grooved incredibly, purposefully deep—each stroke was thoughtful but hard, slow but timely, and judging from your high-pitched keens and the nails scraping against his shoulder blades, he knew you were appreciating the moment just the same.

Wonwoo grasped your sweaty hands in his, your fingers interlocking tight, in order to hold them against the sea of silky pillows above your head. With another especially daggering thrust that made his teeth clench and his abdomen flutter, you had jerked and cried out his name, followed by a breathless, “rr-right there!”

A leg wrapped around his hips, your ankle digging uncomfortably into his side while he continued to push his length into the spot that was making you howl. But it was getting increasingly difficult to continue the tempo—your leg was tightening around him like a boa constrictor and your warmth was clamping down with plain strength, almost as though your body was attempting to lock him inside.

He merely squeezed your hands harder, losing his breath. “You’re almost there, aren’t you?” Taking advantage of another thorough stroke, Wonwoo had the bedframe thudding the wall, his words hotly pressing into your ear. “You’re trying to keep me suctioned in.”

Your whimpers were falling apart like crumbling clay. Wonwoo tried to understand what it was you were mewling at him, something involving his name, how good it felt, that he should keep going, meanwhile tears were springing to your eyes and wetting your glimmery cheeks. Wonwoo bit his lip. He was throbbing wildly inside your heat, knowing you were only getting dumber and turning incoherent as he speared you so intimately on his cock.

Wonwoo wasn’t going to last much longer and neither were you. He was already feeling himself burst and break—the convulsion ripped through him like a landslide and now your leg was fully hooked around his hips, pinning him against you while he emptied himself disgustingly deep inside your warmth.

The sensation must have triggered your own orgasm, because his cock felt like it was practically being suffocated as you squeezed down on him. Wonwoo thought he might blackout when you whined his name into the dim bedroom humidity, strung in a loud, trembling lilt that cracked beautifully in the middle.

Your arms were winding back around his neck, pulling his face to yours, a kiss crushed onto his awaiting mouth.

“I need more,” you panted in between the kisses, “don’t feel full enough yet. Cum inside me again, Wonwoo. Please, take me again.”

“Again?” He smiled, his glasses bumping your nose. You were completely uncaring, only nipping at him harder. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you chanted, “I’ve never been surer of anything in my fucking life.” Suddenly, you were wriggling underneath him, rolling onto your stomach, and repositioning yourself such that you were face-down-ass-up. With eyes twinkling bright in pure, carnal lust, you threw him a a yearning glance from over your shoulder. “Fuck me again, nice and deep like before." His heart shot into his throat. When you begged, it was like his world was shrinking into a bubble where only you and him existed. "Please—I need it before your cum starts leaking out. I need to be filled by you, Wonwoo. Please.” You looked like you might cry if he didn't oblige the plead.

And so he did, his fingers planting a firm grip on your strong hips.

As much as you were willing to take, he was willing to give, finding himself submerge further and further into the intoxicating nature of it all until he started to lose his mind—all he knew is that it was concerningly late at night, your bedsheets were sticky and ruined, and you had gone from being thrust into the pillows to slapping yourself down on his cock while Wonwoo hazily watched. He loved the sight of your sweat, your glowing light, your bouncing breasts and pleasure-drunk face far too much. At some point, you had slumped forward into him, spent to fucking hell.

With your chests were pressed together, his cock still throbbing and stuffed inside you, there was a moment of nothing but thick, laboured breathing and heartbeats synchronizing. He kissed your temple and wrapped his arms around you, proceeding to mumble something sweet and half-asleep that contained your name.

You had squeezed his length unforgivingly in response.

“Fuck—don’t get me hard again. I’m fucking exhausted.”

“I like when you use my name.”

He smiled into your cheek. “I can tell.”

Wonwoo had woken before you.

Mostly because the bedsheets had been gradually wrapped up and tugged away and progressively stolen from him during the night, letting the cool, morning air dust over him like spray from an ocean. You were a fidgety sleeper, he had realized, sometimes even a mumbler, although Wonwoo had never been able to discern what it was you were sluggishly declaring in your dreams.

He turned his head to you, saw the bare groove of your back, shapely like a flower petal, and your arm dug underneath the silk pillow, observing every breath your unconscious body took.

Then, Wonwoo was leaning over you, feeling his fingers sink into your fleshy waist while his lips touched a kiss against your warm cheek. He hoped you wouldn’t mind him using your washroom for a shower.

Afterward, Wonwoo retraced the apartment, finding his shoes a questionable distance apart—one stood square at the front door while the other was left in the hallway leading to your room. His winter jacket was tossed over the arm to the couch, meanwhile his phone involved a more in-depth search. For some reason, he’d left it atop a shelf beside the television, hidden by a clumsy stack of textbooks.

When he tapped the screen, it illuminated some text messages from Vernon that had been sent at around two in the morning—mostly inquiries about the birthday dinner and whether or not Wonwoo had bothered going to the famed and mysterious Room 319.

Though, he opted not to respond, realizing the details he wanted to share with his friend would likely require a sit-down discussion over burgers, fries, and sodas at Solar Pop. Making his way back to the bedroom, Wonwoo carefully creaked open the door to find you half-shoved onto an arm, making tired circles against your eye.

He smiled, coming to sit beside you, handing off the glass of water he poured for himself.

“Are you leaving?” Was the first question you blearily pieced together after accepting the water but not drinking anything from it.

Wonwoo shook his head. “No.”

You managed to sit up properly, the sheets settling around your hips while you continued holding onto the glass. For a moment, you seemed to just observe Wonwoo, your eyes still swollen from sleep.

“Where are you going, then?”

He furrowed his brow. “Nowhere,” Wonwoo laughed, pulling one leg up onto the bed. “I got up to shower. Went and found my things. Got a glass of water, which you’re now holding, by the way.”

You swallowed, looking down at your lap.

“Oh…” after a recollecting pause, you took a sip from it.

Wonwoo smiled, his eyes softening like fresh brown sugar, as he proceeded to unstick some matted hairs from the edge of your face.

“You’re a pretty big sheet stealer,” he said, continuing to spread his fingers about your features, removing fluffs and rubbing off bits of dried spit, “and you seem to like talking, even in your sleep.”

“Oh, yeah… I should have told you that.”

He shrugged. “It’s fine. I liked not knowing.”

“Did you?” With a laugh and smile, you drank some more water.

“Yeah. Because it’s you, it makes me adore it even more.”

“I don’t always mumble. I swear. Only sometimes.”

Wonwoo didn’t care. “It’s not a big deal.”

“I guess I should shower, too. Then I’ll change the sheets and get new ones on.” You abruptly raised the blankets at your lap, lifting up a leg to examine something Wonwoo couldn’t see. “Yeah, I definitely need to change the sheets… oh! And take my pill. Fuck. I can’t forget.”

“I can help with the sheets.”

“Okay,” you said while leaning forward to pull open a drawer on your nightstand, revealing a thin, silver cartridge of pills, “thanks.”

After you had showered and gotten dressed in a clean spare t-shirt, you changed the dirtied sheets to your bed together.

Then you and Wonwoo spent some time together in the open, bright living room, lounging on the couch. Maybe you had kissed a few more times, and maybe his naturally cold hands had found their way underneath your loose t-shirt to curiously massage and press along your pretty chest, and maybe you had kissed a little more after that while the sun rays slid up your sensitive skin.

You twisted away from Wonwoo’s lips with a giggle.

“M’kay, that’s enough, or else I’ll need another shower.” You grabbed at Wonwoo’s hands that had been squeezing your breasts.

Although he didn’t want to stop, he listened, relaxing against the pillow he had stuffed between his spine and the arm of the couch, now throwing an elbow behind his head. You were leaning back against him, getting comfy between his legs, and for a few minutes or so, the two of you gazed out those large, floor-length glass windows into the awakening, snow-capped city.

He felt you stir against him.

“You know… sometimes you don’t always speak English.”

Wonwoo itched his eyebrow, chuckling, “what?”

“Last night, like, when I was riding you—” your head tilted back onto his shoulder, beaming him a smile, “—you would start switching languages. In between English and Korean. It was so cute.”

“Oh, yeah.” He adjusted his glasses, staring down at you while his cheeks became rosy. “I don’t know, it’s just something my brain does automatically. I don’t always realize I’m doing it.”

You grinned; eyes sparkling. “When it feels too good?”

Ruffling a hand through his hair, he simply smirked at you.

“Having a front seat view to the most beautiful girl in the world riding me just happens to be something that makes me feel really good.”

You pushed your head up to kiss him, followed by a sweet and brief whisper that he smiled at, “compliment appreciated.”

A few more quiet minutes passed. Wonwoo thought he could spend the entire day just sitting on the couch with you warm in his arms, watching the snow tumble down like wisps of tender willows.

“Wonwoo?”

“Mm?”

You got quiet.

Then, your weight against his chest was gone, and you had half-turned yourself around to look at him, seeming nervous.

He tilted his head. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you answered, glancing down briefly before soaking him back into your agleam eyes. “I just want to apologize, actually.”

At that, Wonwoo stiffened. “Yeah? What for?”

With a sigh and another anxious moment to fiddle with the rolled-up cuff belonging to his wrinkled dress shirt, you were reserved.

“Ever since we fought, I can't help thinking about it. I mean, I’ve thought about what you said, and the fact you apologized, and explained yourself, and how you gave me time to process it all. You gave me so much grace, even when I felt like I hated you… but… I also said some hurtful things about you… I mean, back then I felt like you deserved it. And, I don’t know… maybe you did? Like, maybe we both needed to just be there, screaming at each other, digging our guts out, throwing up all this stuff to the surface because no one else has ever given us that freedom or made us feel like we could before. Anyway, I just feel like it’s only right that I say sorry, too.”

Scratching at his neck, Wonwoo swallowed. He never thought of it like that. “Uh, sure. If that’s what you feel you need to do. ”

“I’m sorry, Wonwoo. I really, truly am.”

He smiled, grasping at your hand and threading his fingers with yours. Pangs of regret were flooding your eyes, filling them up until they were undoubtedly teary and Wonwoo had to wipe it all away.

“It’s fine, I swear,” he whispered, moving in closer to you, brushing at your cheek as you sniffled. “Nothing has ever truly changed how I feel about you. You’re incredibly firm but sensitive, and have such fiery passion, and you’re curious about everything, and I know that it hurts so much to live without really knowing yourself. But I see you, and I feel like I know you. I never want to stop knowing you, alright?”

“Wonwoo?”

“Yeah?”

Your mouth pressed against his, and he tasted the salt from the tears that beaded down the slopes of your cheeks, warm with life.

“I love you.” He felt the whisper touch at his lips. “I really do.”

Wonwoo held onto your face like he was cradling a big pearl. “I love you, too.” Another kiss sealed the expression into felt, tangible emotion. “But honestly, you already knew that.”

Later in the day, you came up to Wonwoo as he ate lunch at the table, only after having disappeared into a distant office space further down the hallway. You dropped before him a clear, plastic duotang, which held a notably thick stack of papers that had quite a weight to it upon picking up. It only took a few flips into the papers for Wonwoo to realize that it was the completed book he used to proofread for you—a series of chronological memories between yourself and the boyfriend you had gradually drifted apart from.

True to your word, you had forged ahead and finished the book alone.

He was proud to hold the evidence.

Wonwoo asked what you planned to do with the book now that it was done. He even wondered if you might let him read some parts he never got to work on, though he understood if you preferred to keep the contents private. As he was in the middle of lifting a hot spoon to his mouth, Wonwoo suddenly paused at hearing your response.

“I think I’ll just shred it.”

You didn’t seem to care.

The decision came easier than pressing a button. There was only one copy of the book, apparently, and you had plans to turn all its pages into literary confetti. But that was a very you thing to do, Wonwoo had come to accept. Writing served many purposes, and it seemed that the purpose you had sought out was met. Somewhere, in all those paragraphs, sentences, letters, and ink, you found the fulfillment you had always ached for. At last, you struck a glimmer of promising gold after digging through all the haze and confusion.

“Sure,” he answered, “shred away.”

—8 MONTHS LATER. END OF JUNE.

“It looks so pathetic!”

“What?! No it doesn’t!”

Peeking up from the mason jar of earthy blue water he’d been swirling together using some dirtied paintbrushes, Wonwoo saw you seated across from him, talking to a very dismayed, upset twelve-year-old girl. Sierra’s little sister, Cora, had enrolled in his landlord’s ceramics class over the summer, and thus every Saturday evening she spent her time moulding unwilling chunks of grey clay alongside other similarly aged students. It was only Cora in the shop since she had been the last to get her teapot in the kiln, taking extra time with every minute detail.

Though, despite her care and attentive pace, Cora was still not pleased with the teapot, leading her to grumble and shake her head.

You were sitting beside her, a hand rubbing along the little girl’s back while she continued scrutinizing her creation. Ever since you moved into Wonwoo’s apartment back in May, Saskia had quite liked you more than her average tenant, and that somehow transformed into an offer to help her teach the summer ceramics class (with pay).

Wonwoo was always there to assist in the clean-up afterward—his favourite part was submerging all the greasy, bristly paintbrushes into a clean jar of water so that he could watch how their colours bled out in thin, swirling hues.

“No, no, no—it’s just bad.”

“I’m telling you. It’s not.”

Cora picked up the lid to the pot, then placed it back down. “There—look—it doesn’t even close properly. And the spout is not spouty enough… it’s too thick, I think. Hardly any tea will go through!”

“Well, I really like it.”

Tucking a tuft of poofy, rust-brown hair behind her ear, Cora gave you a suspecting and funny sort of look that made Wonwoo smile to himself. She was a very shy student, but she talked to you the most.

“You say that about everything I make,” Cora sighed.

“So what?”

“So…” she nibbled on her small lip, looking off to the side, “you have to say that, because you're nice. You’re like my mom. She says she loves everything I make. But then why don’t I ever love it?”

“She loves it because you made it, obviously. And she loves you. I think love changes how we look at things. Even the impractical.” Then, you picked up her teapot and moved it closer. “You know why I like this teapot? Because it shows you’re determined. I mean, look at all those bowls on the newspaper over there—you’re the only one who did the teapot! And you did it mostly by yourself. You wouldn’t even let me help you roll out the clay. So, that’s why I like it. Because I see you in it. And when you tackle it again, you’ll know what to do differently. Plus, you know you can ask me for help, right? You know I’ll always help you.”

The little girl’s freckled face suddenly became less twisted with judgement and frustration. She set her elbows onto the table, scratching at a Hello Kitty bandaid along the back of her hand, while you gave her hair a quick ruffle. Wonwoo started drying off the paintbrushes using paper towel before moving them into the cup labelled “clean” with a piece of tape.

“What should I do with this, then? If it won’t work,” Cora asked.

You shrugged. “I don’t know. But for now, just leave it with the other stuff. We’ll give it a nice glaze next time around. Make it even prettier. Then you can decide what to do with it—whether or not you want to keep it or smash it on the ground. It’s up to you, Cora.”

Wonwoo tilted his head. “Why don’t you turn it into a miniature flower pot or something? Fill it with soil and plant something in it?”

Cora raised her eyebrows. “I like that idea, actually.”

“Me too,” you said, shooting Wonwoo a sly wink that he smiled very stupidly at, “look at this guy over here. Lurking with his good ideas.”

By the time Sierra was available to pick up her sister, Wonwoo had officially finished cleaning all the paintbrushes and whittling tools, as well as replacing the tablecloth with a fresh one. The three of you stood at the base to the shop’s very small stoop, exchanging some general conversation while a sleepy Cora held onto her sister’s hand and leaned her seemingly heavy head against her side.

The sky was a tame yellow shade, not as bright as a buttercup, but something delicate of the like.

“Hey—I heard you guys are planning a vacation!” Sierra chirped, adjusting the car keys in her hand, “is that all true?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, flashing Wonwoo a soft smile, “uh, we decided that we’re gonna spend some time in South Korea. I haven’t visited his family at all. But, yeah. Gonna leave start of August and come back right before October. So, a pretty good chunk of time.”

“No way!” She exclaimed.

“We’ll see how it pans out,” Wonwoo commented, sliding his arm around your waist and digging his fingers into your hip. “But my brother won’t shut his mouth about meeting her. And my parents are obviously curious. Besides, there are some great places I want to show off.”

Sierra shook her head. “I’m jealous. And totally sure you guys will have a great experience together. We’ll miss you here, though.”

“Please do,” you laughed, and Sierra pinched your cheek.

She then looked down at her sister, who had her eyes shut.

“Okay, I’m gonna get this little dove home. Thank you so much for helping her at ceramics by the way. She talks about you all the time.”

“Really?” You touched at your face, seeming flustered. “Well, I love helping her out. She’s a sweet girl with a lot of will on her shoulders.” Lowering your voice, you moved in closer to Sierra. “I’ll keep my eyes peeled for a cute gift she can have while we’re gone.”

After parting ways with Sierra and Cora, you and Wonwoo returned upstairs, back into the apartment to prepare for supper.

Both of you were feeling particularly lazy, and the shiny red tomato he was supposed to chop ended up being ignored in place of eating ice cream straight from its tub.

You were the one who grabbed it—Wonwoo was only following suit as he picked up a spoon and curved some out.

Something else interesting about you that Wonwoo had learned since moving in together was that you didn’t really care to ever sit on a chair, even when you were eating. It was either the sofa, the floor, or the kitchen table, in which you would be holding onto your food even though he always thought how easier it could be if you did sit down properly. The quirk was fun, nonetheless, and Wonwoo had admittedly started looking at the kitchen table in a different light after he proceeded to give you oral on it one night. Consequently, it bloomed a very dangerous habit between the two of you.

A habit that might become drastically less accessible once you two jetted off to his native country for over a month, confined between his parent’s cozy home where he grew up and the two-story apartment his wealthy brother and sister-in-law owned in the glittering heart of South Korea’s Seoul. He was nervous. You were nervous. But at least you were together.

Over the months, your parents had gradually come to accept him as your boyfriend, even if they weren't exactly warmed up to the idea at the start. Wonwoo revisited your home a few times alongside you to help in the explanations of your story and future prospects, although he partially understood that Mingyu was like a precious sapphire to your family and having him out so suddenly was hard to stomach.

He spent years nestling himself a comfortable burrow and smoothing out the bumps to make a crafty façade that, particularly your mother, couldn't help but outwardly adore. Like a son. Like Seokmin, too.

Wonwoo thought Mingyu might give him trouble.

In truth, he'd scarcely seen him, unless transient glimpses of his towering, quickly bustling figure from across a university campus or city street were noteworthy. Obviously, he wasn't inside Mingyu's head and he really had no inclination as to what the boy might be thinking on the occasion he spotted you and Wonwoo hand-in-hand at the park, or sharing breakfast at the café along Sunnyside.

But if Mingyu maintained even half the feelings that Wonwoo did for you, then he was positive it hurt like fucking hell.

Of all people, Wonwoo supposed he himself knew best.

—AUGUST 1ST.

“Wonwoo!”

He closed his dresser drawer, almost slamming his fingers inside. Your voice echoed from the living room, sounding hectic.

“Yes? What’s up!”

“The taxi’s here!”

Fuck. He immediately thought. The time was flying by.

Wonwoo had made a gigantic list of what to pack, but over time he kept adding and taking things away from it. Now, it was early morning, soft rain and cracks of bursting light coming down outside, and he was doing a final clean-sweep of the bedroom as well as his poorly scribbled list to ensure everything he needed was with him.

Quickly approaching the window, Wonwoo glanced outside to see the cab parked at the curb. Fuck. Again. Vernon always said he would happily provide you two a ride to the airport, but then the boy was unsurprisingly wrapped back into some trouble, and Wonwoo hadn’t seen his best friend in over a week.

Graciously, however, Vernon had given him a heads up and a proper goodbye beforehand. He’d even left him a voicemail to listen to, which immediately jumped into Wonwoo’s brain at random as he scrambled around the bedroom in search of his phone.

“Just give me one more minute!” Wonwoo shouted.

There was a pause on your end, and then a sigh.

“Do you need help?”

“No—all good. I promise. Can you let the cab driver know?”

“I will.”

“Thank you!” Wonwoo sang, finding the phone blended into his bedsheets, then proceeding to open his inbox. “I love you!”

“I love you, too!” You shouted back. “Just hurry the fuck up!”

He let Vernon’s message play while also tossing his suitcase onto the bed, stuffing in a few more last-minute grabs with utter clumsiness.

“Heyyy, Glasses! How are things? I’m shooting you this cute little message at arounddd—oh! Looks like it’s two in the mornin’! It’s two in the fuckin’ mornin’ and I’m pulled up outside this dude’s house all ‘cause he can’t pay me back for my good, hard services. It’s nothin’ serious, though. Don’t get all uptight like usual. You know I’m good at handlin’ stuff and keepin’ my cool. Probably my better qualities. Anyway, I’m bored as fuck. I’ve spun this Lloyd CD about four times and I just can’t listen to that dude anymore. He can sing, though.

I am pissed you’re leavin’ me. And I’m pissed she’s leavin’ me, too. You guys are what I look forward to whenever I drive down into that shithole city. Well, I think just about every city’s a shithole city. In fact, the city I’m in now is probably more of a shithole… Seokmin texted me the other day—said he wants to talk—which is vague as fuck and to be honest, I’ve been ignorin’ it ‘cause I can’t get myself to give a god damn. But maybe I’ll hear him out. That guy was a cutie, wasn’t he? I still think you’re a bit cuter. And better at mini-put.

I’ll miss you a lot when you’re down there… it got me thinkin’ about the night when we first met. The New Year’s Eve party. You remember that pretty well, don’t’chya? I saw you come in with those guys—they didn’t look like your crowd at all—but then after a while you were alone. Wanderin’ around. It didn’t even seem like you knew anyone else was there. You had the blankest look on your face. Like you were stuck in a loop and you didn’t even know it. I don’t know that I felt pity or anything… hell, maybe I felt a little. I just talked to ‘ya ‘cause I wanted to know if you knew where you even were.

You knew you were at some stupid, loud, awful fuckin’ house party jammed with unfamiliar faces. You knew how much you hated bein’ there. But I don’t think you actually knew how you got there, or why, or what was supposed to happen next. It kinda drew me to you. I wanted to understand it. And you gave me the weirdest look, too, when I stopped you. But once I got you outside, away from all the bullshit, you loosened up just a bit and I realized I was talkin’ to this smart, well-rounded, thoughtful guy who was just a little lost in the weeds.

I know you didn’t really care about me like that. I was just some jumped-up weirdo who could give you mint weed at a sweet price. But I still liked you… I dunno… other people see you differently when they care a whole lot, don’t they? I guess they see things about you that others can’t, or they know exactly what you could be when others don’t. They see stuff even you can’t see. It’s like a superpower, I think… my best superpower is probably makin’ girls giggle. I’ve got a lot of charm, wouldn’t you agree? Ha—anyway—stay safe on your trip, tell Her that I’ll miss her a lot, too—oh! Oh!

Fuck! That’s it. That little fucker is comin’ outside—he can’t resist his two am darts on the porch. God bless you, nicotine! Okay, uh, guess this is me hangin’ up on you. Later, Wonwoo!”

At that point, everything Wonwoo needed was packed. But he’d taken the additional time to complete Vernon’s voicemail, now sitting on the edge of his bed while staring out into the early, glimmering rain shower and the water droplets collecting against his window.

Then, Wonwoo glanced down at the laptop he had open.

He hadn’t written in… months. Not even months—it had been over a year since Wonwoo wrote. And, somehow, it felt good not to write.

It felt necessary to step away from the craft.

Besides, writing would always be there. Just because he hadn’t filled up a document on his computer with harmoniously arranged words, or penned anything down in the journal he used to scribble poetry in, that didn’t make him not a writer. In fact, it could be crucial to know when to step away from something—when to let go of an invisible weight keeping one from progressing. While he hadn’t thought about it in months, it floated to the surface of his mind that there may be something he should let go.

The unfinished book. 01.

Wonwoo deleted it. Simple as that.

Shoving the laptop into his shoulder-sling bag, Wonwoo made sure to knab his journal from the nightstand before he left, just in case anything did excite him with a crack of inspiration as he embarked on his newest chapter with you at his side. Rolling his suitcase hurriedly behind him, Wonwoo rushed out onto the street, feeling the rain graze his hair and skin, while you were leaned against the cab, arms folded and teeth anxiously raking over your bottom lip.

He peppered the cab driver in apologies while he helped shove the suitcase into the trunk.

“Liar—” you grumbled after sliding into the cab, undoing the buttons on your coat, “—you said one minute, not one lifetime.”

“I know, I know,” Wonwoo laughed, removing his glasses to rub off the mist and dew, “but that voice mail from Vernon distracted me.”

“Let me do it,” you said, taking his glasses with a sigh, “we should be fine. I know we’ll make it on time… I guess I’m just on edge.”

He watched you massage at the lenses gently with a sleeve. The driver climbed back into the cab, now pulling away from the pottery shop and driving toward the beam of light that sliced through the dense clouds, like the sun was handling a giant blade.

“Everything’s gonna work out, I promise… and I already told you that we’ll be staying with Bohyuk first, right? Him and Nari?”

Handing the glasses back to Wonwoo, you nodded.

“Yeah… god—I hope he likes me.”

“Oh, he will. You guys are pretty similar, actually.”

The look you gave him warbled slightly.

“What if that’s a bad thing? Every time you tell me a story about your brother, it usually involves you loathing him for something.”

“Those stories took place years ago.”

“But the feelings are still there, aren’t they?”

Wonwoo settled his hand over top yours, giving your fingers a soothing squeeze. He knew you wanted to make the perfect first impression. After all, first impressions were not something that could be easily taken back or erased, unless the people you were meeting were quite forgiving. And Bohyuk was fortunately the forgiving type.

It was only time that Wonwoo exercise the quality as well.

Leaning in close to your face, Wonwoo gazed into your eyes, watching their frantic nature become still like the surface of a calm pond.

“You’ve got nothing to worry about, alright?” He murmured.

Huffing out an intense, long breath, you nodded.

“Alright… can I have a kiss, please?”

Lifting his hand to graze against the side of your cheek, he paused to admire your beauty for a moment, only to properly cup your face and push his lips to yours—which tasted sweet and balmy—before feeling you push back firm. He proceeded to give you another soft kiss for good measure, one that cured you to smile all fluttery and coy against his mouth until he was inevitably smiling, too.

In fact, Wonwoo only ever found himself smiling that hard when he was with you.

—END.

heyyyy :] ramble incoming...

first and foremost, ABOVE ALL ELSE, i just want to say thank you! i know this was a very, very long fic for me to be uploading on tumblr. this site is not the most fanfic friendly (or creation friendly for that matter) so stomaching the fact that this needed to be split up into so many parts was like a dagger to the heart! for those who decided to buckle up and lock into this journey, i honestly thank you so much <3 life was not always kind in the process of writing this (hence the fact it took me 2 years, plus some extra) but i was so dedicated to seeing this story through! a lot of the frustration i was feeling toward myself was funnelled into wonwoo's character, so this is quite personal :3

nonetheless, i hope there's something, even a single thing, someone else can take away from the story as well! both wonwoo and her as characters introduce their own unique themes--wonwoo (at the core) is more so about learning to let go in order to progress, whereas her is about using creative tools to help guide the search for identity. i think that writing has helped me learn a lot about myself (even uncomfy, icky things) so i wanted that to be represented through her.

of course, these are not the only things they stand for! but these are the elements i based their characters on, to which other concepts sprouted from. i also loved the idea of pairing someone as lost and misguided and emotionally stunted as wonwoo with this girl who seems so bossy and firm. at first he doesn't like it, but that was really what he needed to accept some of the flaws holding him back. idk if you're familiar with the EXCUSE ME! HE ASKED FOR NO PICKLES! meme but that's what comes to mind when i think of them xD

additionally: special shout out to vernon. he became a much bigger part of this story than i originally intended. he is in some ways wonwoo's foil. vernon knows he's flawed but that's sorta his strength and what makes him genuine. he witnesses wonwoo's entire journey, so at times he also feels like our role, the "reader" and gives wonwoo some wisdomy parting words without rly knowing it (but that's part of his charm <3 i don't want vernon's emotional intelligence to be underrated, which is also an ode to the conversation wonu & her have back in the museum. wonwoo knows there are different types of intelligence and emotionally he is lackinggg).

also small s/o to seokmin. SORRY! HAD TO DO IT!

this has been my slowest slowburn! i wasn't sure how late they were going to kiss. but i didn't want to force anything. i wanted to add the moment when i felt it was surely right! also, if you haven't yet listened to the playlist and you're curious, i recommend listening to the very last song, writer, by ellie goulding. i've been listening to that song for many years, and one day it hit me how coincidentally her lyrics overlap with some of the fic's storyline!

i think it adds a nice final touch <3

LASTLY!

upon contemplation, i will be uploading this fic to ao3 in the same chaptered format it's been posted here! i realize the convenience to bookmarking on that site (and it also doesn't give people's phones a heart attack when trying to read something lengthy) so i hope that appeases some of you who wish to reread with more leisure! i'll be under the username @/uglypluto!

i'll upload the final chapter (this chapter) to ao3 probably between late sunday & early monday.

THANK YOU x100! 💕

[apollosgiftofprophecy]

UPDATED 1/29/24

this was inspired by @lubble-underscore's post and I decided to expand on the iceberg and see how much I could throw on it

thanks to the Discord server for filling in on things that didn't cross my mind! :D

feel free to save and highlight what you know :3 Links to many of these things are below - some are not tho!

Tier 1 - do we even need to SAY anything?

pathetic little meow meow

bisexual

unreliable narrator

Tier 2 - surface level/easy to see

superiority/inferiority complex

bitchsexual (i mean... points to commodus)

raised chiron (see CHB Confidential)

Tier 3 - complete read-through/reread; taking first steps into fandom

breaks cycle of abuse

polldona

great with kids, actually (see Harley, Georgie, ect.)

ordered pizza to chb (see The Hidden Oracle)

domains contradict

best godly parent

still heavily affected by past lovers (see The Whole Series)

Tier 4 - digging a little deeper

love life isn't actually terrible

definitely tried to bang frey at least once (see that One throwaway line in The Hidden Oracle)

malewife malewhore manslaughter

broke up the beatles because paul jilted him (Discord)

sees the faces of primordial gods (see The Hidden Oracle)

copollo could have worked

catboy but cats are competition (See The Tyrant's Tomb; submitted by @trials-of-apollo-my-beloved)

freakishly high pain tolerance (See THE ENTIRE SERIES)

Tier 5 - holy shit we're on to something

that apollo & jesus fic (Discord)

knew hades had kids in TTC

pressured to be the perfect son

fatal flaw is love

not as close to hermes as he used to be

seahorsed kayla

patron of CHB

roman apollo au (Discord: Creator chronictheorizing)

Tier 6 - wait what. OH!

was forced to punish halcyon green

deathsong (Discord: Creator @txny-dragon) (addition)

kids are greek & roman

michael yew is most like him

brings change by being his true self and not the fake one (Submitted by @/txny-dragon)

laomedon is why he hates slavery (Discord: Creator @ukelele-boy)

intentionally made the orientation video to communicate info on the gods

Tier 7 - what the fuck did we get ourselves into

directed travis & conner to tartarus tongs

Apollo x Orion is peek hateship (Discord: Origin in Tsari's server during Eclipse)

unlocked heavenly prophecy powers during trials

dated oscar wilde and inspired the picture of dorian gray (Discord)

half-titan theory

tartarus regenerated him

imperial kids were meant to usurp the olympians

Tier 8 - we're in too deep but will never come out

knows estelle is omen of end of the world

[seventhcallisto]

Chapter VII — "your best girl"

Deep down.

Toc/cw: MDNI!! MATURE CONTENT!!! lots of cursing oops. Threesome. Wooyoung steals panties. Use of sl-t (used 2-3 x). Fingering. Dirty talking. Spitting. Saliva. Grinding. Masterbating. Spitting. Unprotected sex(Dw. There's birth control for men.) Cumplay. Plugging(?). Lots of orgasms. Somewhat wooyoung centered cause he's loud. Knotting. Bratty mean dom woo. Service dom yeo. Bulge mention. Slapping(once). Squirting. Begging. Biting. Pinching. Overstimulation. Use of 'I love you' during sex. Aftercare. Praising. Lots of kissing and fluff. More 'I love you's. Kinda ooc jongho. DONT READ IF UNCOMFORTABLE!! JUST BLOCK OR SKIP ☆ thank yew. Also, completely fiction.

pet names/nns: omega, pretty star, pretty girl, gorgeous, sweetheart, good girl/perfect girl, baby, jagiya, sl-t(Yours). woo, alpha (Wooyoung). sangie, yeo, alpha (Yeosang). Joongie, babe (Hongjoong). Hwa (Seonghwa). Jongie(Jongho).

wc: 9.0k

The kitchen is quiet besides the occasional bubbling of questions that one or the other might add on about preparing for dinner. When mingi pokes his head out every so often to check on the living room.

You've moved spots, no doubt overheated and beginning to feel the symptoms of your heat coming to front. And last he checked you were lying against wooyoung's chest as he stroked your back, sandwiched between yeosang as you all watched wooyoung's phone.

There's the distant sound of a movie playing on his phone. Even though the TV is right there to use, you're all too lost in each other's embrace. You wiggle ever so often, and since you began doing that, Yeosang has had to pull himself back a bit so you aren't accidently bumping and grinding.

Wooyoung's hand wanders, he couldn't help it. He strokes his finger over the gap in your shirt and pants. The skin there is almost as hot as your forehead, no doubt starting to feel too heated for your own liking. You've already stripped your socks off due to the heat. He and Yeosang are already too distracted to watch the movie on his phone.

“how're you feeling, pretty star?” The nickname wooyoung uses catches your attention as a cramp passes through you, you groan. Pained. Yeosang’s hand comes to wrap around your midsection, attempting to ease the hurt with the messaging of his fingertips.

It doesn't help much, but you lean into his touch anyway as the last of the cramp seizes you. Sighing heavily afterward. Your forehead scrunches as you pout heavily at the alpha you're leaning on.

“s’not good.” your words make both of the alphas frown. “You need help with it?” Yeosang offers gently. You don't feel completely compelled by the heat, but it's creeping. And you don’t want to worry woo and yeo about it. You whine into your words as you speak again.

“Not yet, I can hold off” cause you don't want them to feel obligated to give you what you really want. You're content with them just being here. It feels like they've done so much for you already. Wooyoung shifts, and you're slipping between the spot and in the space between them. Wooyoung's phone lands with a thud by your head. Completely disregarded by the alpha who lays his hand on your hip, facing you towards him.

“are you sure? You're sweating” wooyoung lays a cold hand on your head. It's a relief to how hot you were before. you shake your head, whimpering softly, there's the urge to rub your legs together, drawn by the way you shifted. It's so sudden you're not realizing how close the next wave of your heat is already here.

Yeosang is shifting to the back of you, pulling your hair into his hand and using the scrunched up hair tie that was loosely hanging from the edge of your hair to tie your dyed hair away from your neck. It's a relief, too, not so hot on your sweaty neck. Making you realize just how sweet they're being.

“m- i” you can hardly get out, eyes squeezing shut tightly. Your hands reach for him, screw your pride. You need a filling. Now. You pull wooyoung down onto you, capturing his thigh between your legs. His hand falls next to your head to hold himself, a soft thump of his other knee hitting by your own. His other knee bumps against your butt and you audibly gasp into his ear when his thigh pushes against where you need him most.

“Need it, now, please, please” you whimper into his ear. He takes a harsh breath into his lungs, looking up at yeosang. Yeosang is equally as surprised, it's the first time they're both with an omega in heat, not something they're used to. And you being forward is adding onto the shock. It's a huge turn on.

Wooyoung ruts up on your thigh once when it skims his cock through his sweats, a covered sigh falling past his lips. He's so hard, it's really ridiculous how fast you have him going.

“fuck, you need to come first don't you?” wooyoung asks, more like himself, he's genuinely sure he's going to cum in his pants if he gets to put his fingers inside you. But he wants to hold off, it's hard being so infatuated with his member who he completely would cum to at night unbeknownst to her, his own dirty secret that really shows with how eagerly he's pulling your pants off.

Or- seonghwas pants. Yeosang has fully pressed himself against your back, in it for the long run as his other member slowly loses himself to the pleasure of it all. It's amusing, watching his bratty and teasing friend give in just because you said please.

Yeosang takes the hem of seonghwas sweater and strips it off your hot skin, the exposure of your scent has him already attaching his lips to your neck. The salty taste of your sweat lingers on his tongue even as you throw your head back against his shoulder.

Wooyoung rearranges your legs. When he pushes them together, he doesn't miss the way your pretty panties stick to you and leave a dark stain from the wetness. He'll have to thank seonghwa for picking that pair later.

“look at you, so fucking pretty” he moans when he talks, eyebrows pulling at how strained he's finding himself in his sweats. He's expertly pulling them off your legs and shoving them into his pocket.

Despite the stench of his other members cum lingering on it, your smell is most prominent, the slick still sticks to the side your pussy sits. You can call him a perv for taking your panties and he'll definitely say ‘only for you’. The cold air does nothing to relieve anything other than the sweat prickling against your thighs.

Yeosangs hand trails down from where they were on your hips, finding your clit easily, his fingers circle, only two calloused tips applying pressure. Wooyoung is catching his eyes, theres a silent message that pases between them, yeosang pulls back and it has you whining at the lost.

But the sound of wooyoungs lips smacking has you staring when a wet glob of his saliva falls on your clit. Yeosang angles his fingers back down to gather your slick and brings it back up to circle your clit again, mixing woo’s saliva with your own juices. “You okay jagiya?” Yeosang asked, his sweet lips pressing to your shoulder. “i- ‘m good, please don't stop” You mewl, head falling back against his shoulder once again, his name a silent sinatra off your tongue.

Wooyoung is freeing himself from his briefs, tugging his hard dick into his palm before he lets it angle against his stomach. As if yeosang knows what he's doing, he uses his free hand to grab your jaw. “Open jagi, woo needs your drool” he mentions with a hard tone as his fingers continue their heavy back and forth over your cunt.

You easily comply, lulling out your tongue and bubbles of spit forming when you stick your tongue out to let the drool seep off. Wooyoung easily catches it, his fingers rubbing around his palm. He stares so hard that you feel your cheeks heat up worse than they already are.

“such a slut, wide open for me huh?” he bites his lip back as his fingers slip into your open mouth, why have it so wide open if he can't use it. He's got his two digits rubbing against your tongue to get that feeling memorized, he can't wait to have his dick in your mouth at some point or another.

You close your mouth around them and suck, eyes scrunching as yeosangs first finger slips inside you. It's an easy fit cause you're wet, unbelievable so. Wooyoung's choked moan has you moaning with him. Yeosang breathily groaning by your head as he ruts his cock in his tight pants against your back.

Wooyoung can't take it anymore, he pulls his fingers from your mouth with a dirty pop. His hand grabbing his dick and tugging, and fuck, he already feels so close when he looks down and sees yeosangs fingers prod into you and pump slow.

He's pumping his fingers around the length of his cock with yeosangs strokes. You're watching wooyoung get off through heavy eyelids. His mouth already lulled open as he whimpered incoherently to himself. Mumbles of praises that you can't distinguish but still squeeze Yeosangs fingers at.

You reach back for the quiet alpha, palming against his pants the best you can, you're telling him you want to pleasure him too, you hold eye contact as you spit on your hand. A quiet curse slipping his lips, he's still got his fingers buried inside you when he uses his free hand to unbuttons his pants.

Your hand replaces his as you slide it down, squeezing his member in your own smaller and wet hand. It's already dripping, throbbing against your fingertips as you stroke from the angle. Attempting to recreate the way yeo works his in continous pounding fingertips. Every time he presses your g-spot, you squeeze him a bit too hard by accident. He doesn't mind the way his breath hiccups in his throat. There's the squelch of you getting wetter and wetter. Clenching around his fingers.

“She's close.” He warns wooyoung whose fist is equally working as hard to bring his own climax. Woo nods, tongue sticking out to lick his dry lips. His eyes dont disconnect from the space yeosang keeps covering, giving him the perfect angle. "Come on jagiya, Make a mess on my fingers, be a good girl” yeosang edges you on, kissing against your sweaty shoulder. You whimper, finally forming a sentence.

“You're going to ’cum- with me right?- Please come with me- please please alphas,” you choke on a whimper. There's a string again, pulling thin. Wooyoungs hand splays across your thighs to keep you parted and open for yeosang. Your own hand working against his throbbing cock.

“fuck” wooyoung whimpers as he cock throbs one last time and he's spilling his load over your pussy and yeosangs fingers. Gasps and sobs slipping past his lip as he flicks his wrists a couple of more times around his sensitive tip to squirt out the last bit onto you, ropes of cum landing on your stomach and everywhere else down. Thighs, cunt, ass, you name it.

Wooyoung has built himself so much he's cumming and bucking still when you start cumming too, a strangled whine crawling out of your throat when yeosang keeps pumping his fingers, your head thrashes against him, mouth lulling open.

You try to shut your thighs, but wooyoung and yeosangs grip keeps you spread wide open for them as your orgasm hits you hard, coating yeosangs fingers with clear slick. That leaves you gasping for air and squeezing yeosangs cock too tightly, he ruts his hips into your palm a couple of times when you stop, creaming against your fingers as you hook them around his cockhead.

Choked sighs and gasps fall off his tongue, his hips bucking a few more times. He's lapping at your neck with kisses and tiny nips as you all come down from your highs “still okay?” He asks, a perfect kissed place to your jaw. You nod, dazed. Wooyoung is slinking forward, his head falling in the free part of your neck that isn't being used by yeosang.

Heavy pants coming from both of you, all the while yeosang covers his as he works hickeys into your untainted skin under your jaw. Wooyoung nips the otherside, sloppy kisses along your collarbone. “such a pretty omega, so good for her alphas” wooyoung sweetly says, pecking up to catch your lips in a lazy dance against his own.

He's swallowing your needy moans with his own overwhelming breaths, his hands gripping your thighs. He's pulling away from your mouth to look down at the mess yeosang keeps plugged up. His fingers are still buried to the hilt inside you.

“Tell me if it's too much,” Wooyoung says as he pulls his member's fingers. Yeosang huffs at the slow descent out, letting his member drag him until only the tip of his finger prods. You whimper at the sensation. Wooyoung's hand reaches back behind you and you realize when yeosang groans that he's tugging the member's cock to get the cum off his tip. Gathering the mess on his stomach and clothes.

Wooyoung scoops it up with his own cum on your stomach. Pulling out yeosangs hand so his fingers squelch. Wooyoungs fingers slide in easily, pumping you with the cum from both of them.

He's already circling your clit with his thumb, shoving his fingers as far as he can reach into you. You gasp and shrug away into yeosang who holds you there for wooyoung.

“Need to fill this pussy up so bad” wooyoung hums, leaning forward to plant a kiss to your lips. “You'll let me yeah? Please say you'll let me omega, wanna feel you so bad” he whimpers, digging his palm into your clit instead, a slap of his fingers makes you shudder.

“Alpha please yes- ack!” You cry out when he's ripping his fingers out, replacing it with his already hard cock, the tip is bulbous and pretty, already soaked with precum as he strokes the base a few times. He positions it in front of your hole, sending a sweet kiss down on your lips. He eats you as he pushes his hips in. Stuttering at the squeeze. A moan falling into your mouth at the tight fit.

Wooyoung is on cloud nine. You're perfect. This is everything he's been hoping for, he might actually cum on the spot and when you take his knot he's gonna bite you so fucking hard that you'll ask for him whenever you think about it. Fuck. The thought already has him throbbing against your walls.

“Fuck, fuck. So fucking tight” he moans, gripping your waist, the dig of his fingers so hard against your waist. “Yeo” wooyoung tugs on your bra. “Take this off” he huffs. He knows it must be uncomfortable to have on so yeosang does anyway without correcting the member about manners. Easily guiding the straps off and unbuckling the back. It's gone as soon as it's mentioned. And when it is wooyoung is staring, mouth lulled open as he pumps his hips in a slow start, fuck he might actually drool. Your tits are perfect too. You're a goddess in his eyes. Wooyoung's hot tongue pressing over your hardening nipple. You yelp when he tugs with his teeth as he thrusts in.

Wooyoung's pace is sloppy, his hips slapping against yours and pushing you further into yeosang. Moans that reverb against your chest has you squeezing him so tightly he's starting to see stars. He's heavy as he leans over you, knowing you can take the full weight of him. Yeosangs hand slips down over your stomach grazing his finger against your clit.

You buck, shaking your head. “Too much! Please!” You cry and beg, yeosang shushes you softly. He knows you can take it. Wooyoung unlatches himself to take your other nipple on his tongue, he's drooling on you, bucking whenever he hears you babble. “Woo!” you cry when his tip hits that gummy spot in you. And with yeosangs added fingers playing with your clit. You find yourself crying and whimpering as you come to that ledge.

“Let me cum inside please” he asks so sweetly, choking on a gasp. “Fuck m gonna give you my knot and we'll be together” he hiccups as another overstimulated throb pulses through him. His thighs slapping against yours as you bend over his lap. His hand placed right next to yeosang on the floor whilst his other angles your thigh up to meet him.

It's heaven, truly, you in your nest. Letting wooyoung have his way with you, letting yeosang bring you close again with his fingers. Tears streaming down your face. He's not even thrusting hard, just enough that there's an audible squelch and slap. It's ridiculous how hot wooyoungs find this. His face scrunches up when his knot grows, he can't slow his pace or stop it from growing cause it's so good and so hard to control. He just can't.

“you gonna let me knot you? Fill this pretty pussy full of my- my cum?” He says between moans, choked sounds and gasps falling off his filthy tongue, his eyes shift from your pussy and then too your fucked out face. Your eyes are just about clenched close. When wooyoung's hips snap one more time, he gets as deep as he can.

“m cumming- come with me omega please- fuck” He hiccups “I- love you, love you so so much oh-” He sobs, knot popping and tying you both down. Yeosangs fingers work against your bundle faster, You bite your tongue as you moan, shaking as your orgasms come to front. There's the heat of something passing between you, thighs clenching around wooyoung's waist. Something wet, warm, and hot splashing from you and soaking the both of you entirely. It's entirely draining. Stealing all the energy you had left.

You're hardly breathing when you finish and wooyoung's member pulses in you, white flashes across your vision. Your throat burns as you suck breaths into your lungs. His face holds shock when he stares down at your interlaced section. You tremble against yeosang who's breathing heavily and hard into your ear. Fingers grazing away from your oversensitive bud.

“that was so hot” he mumbles, hands raised up and off of you. He scans his clothing, he's soaked. You're both soaked, the floor under you is soaked. Yeosang presses sweet kisses along your face as you pant, nuzzling into him. “Do it again, please” wooyoung begs. Yeosang slaps his hand away before it can reach your clit.

“She's sensitive” he strictly says with a draw of his lips. “You made her squirt. She needs a break” Yeo huffs. “We made her squirt” wooyoung corrects, his fuzzy eyebrows pulling down when he stares over your cunt. Flutter of drops cascading down your lips and cheeks. Messy all over, and yet he's still inside you. With his knot deflating. He really shouldn't pop a boner, but you're already there and he's already hard again. His pride is thoroughly stroked.

He pistons in slowly, tugging his knot with him when he pulls only halfway out. You squeeze your thighs, whimpering. Yeosang sends wooyoung a look. The other member smirks to himself. He can't help it. Really. “Think you could take one more?” Wooyoung hums, cut off halfway with a moan when your walls squeeze.

His eyes scan your own, you turn into yeosangs shoulder, pouting. “You had-ah -your turn” you mumble, jutting away from his palm against your stomach. Wooyoung stops his slow thrusts, a cocky laugh falling out of his mouth.

“Is it Sangie's turn now then?” He asks, leaning down to kiss along your sweaty neck. Locking eyes with his friend. Yeosang sucks a breath in as he goes to tilt your head, catching your eyes in his own dark ones. “Think you could take it, jagi?” He presses a soft kiss to the hand he collects, his eyes softening. “We don't have to-”

“No!” You wiggle, pouting. “Need both. please?” You beg so politely. Who is yeosang to deny you? “move” Yeosang sighs when he catches the smirk on his friend's face. Yeosang turns to lay you against the pillow, slipping himself from under you, careful with the section you and wooyoung share. Wooyoung shakes his head. “Can't, still deflating” his joke makes yeosang shake his head with a breathy huff. “You're annoying”

Your back hits the soft ground. From the angle of your hips bent over wooyoung's thighs there's a definite curve to your back. A noticeable bulge poking from your stomach. Your finger trails down over it, the tips pressing around the length of it. Wooyoung shudders, confidence falling. “Dont- dont- I'll get hard again” he pleads. When you smile, cheekily, he snickers. Woo leans down to kiss your mouth into his, sucking on your bottom lip softly. Your eyes are dazed, blinking back up to watch the alpha. You're so fucking pretty, covered in his cum and with his knot buried to the hilt in you.

“God, I love you” he hums when he pulls away. Who gives a damn if he's saying it too early. He loves you. He's loved you for so damn long. He's loved you for years. This is his cloud nine. “Love you” you whisper back, dazed eyes looking up at him. He whimpers into his hum, eyes locking down as the rest of his knot deflates. He's pulling out slowly. Agonizingly slow, just to gawk at the way his cum starts pooling out.

Yeosang's hand comes to cover your hole, scooping the glob of woos cum and plugging his fingers in, you twitch. “Keep it in” he demands softly, glancing up at wooyoung who's tucking his dick back into his sweats. “pick her up” He commands. It's not like yeosang has to ask twice, it wasn't a command, command. Just something he tells him in mutual understanding.

Wooyoung pulls you to sit up, helping you lean on your knees, you fall into his shoulder. Digging your chin there in his sweat and slick covered hoodie. He peppers kisses to you easier now, body trapping you against him. “Come on gorgeous, open your legs” He encourages, yeosangs fingers keep a tight hold the entire time, like he's your personal plug.

You bite against wooyoung's hoodie covered shoulder. “Come on omega, present” yeosang commands with a coo of his tongue. And something in you clicks. Spreading your knees and arching your back towards him. Head falling over wooyoung's shoulder to show off your neck. Yeosang lets out a satisfied hum. Free hand pulling at his pants again to whip himself out. He doesn't touch you for a solid two seconds. You're already wiggling your hips. Anticipating what's to come.

Yeosangs hand comes down against the bottom of your spine, stopping you. “Don't move so much” he warns, the tip of him prodding against where he keeps his fingers. He takes them out quickly and replaces where they were with the tip of his cock, covering the tight ring of your entrance so as to make sure nothing leaks.

You whimper, watching him work behind you best you can, wooyoungs hand strokes over your sides every so often. Watching yeosang work himself in as well. You clench when he digs in, dipping his thumb under to softly circle your clit. “Relax” he reminds you.

You sigh, wiggling back against him again. Wooyoung slaps your hip, clicking his tongue. “Don't. Move.” wooyoung hums into his words. Yeosangs hand softly rubs over the reddening spot. You whimper when he lays a kiss at the base of your spine. “listen to woo darling” His voice pitches. As if saying ‘told you not too’.

He edges himself in with more rocks of his hips, breathy groans and praise falling off his tongue when he draws tight circles around your sensitive clit. You try so hard not to move, not to make a sound when he sheaths fully inside you. His cock has an upturn angle to it, already scraping against you in the best way. You moan into wooyoung's shoulder, the man just stares down at where yeosang has you. Ass parted for him as he pressed in from the back.

Yeosang's cock pulses. Throbbing against your cunt, the way you suck him in so good has him airily groaning. By the time he's fully settled into you, he's pulling all the way back until only his tip stays in, gauging your reactions, then he's ramming into you. Setting a brutal pace you whimper at. A heavy, thumping pace compared to wooyoung's sloppy thrusts. He keeps pushing you into other male, brutal. You're completely stripped down and complying to the alphas' whims while they still have their shirts, pants and hoodies on.

You whine and moan against wooyoung's shoulder, holding him tightly in your grasp. His mouth is open, piercing eyes watching yeosang disappear into you. The soft prod against you is no doubt wooyoung's cock erect again. Getting off on his other member fucking you. Yeosangs fingers dig so good into your waist, pulling you back to meet every single snap of his hips. Groans and low pitched moans ringing in your ear when his head falls on your shoulder blade.

Wooyoungs hand cups your breast first, breaking you out of the trance that yeosang is sending you too. Moans getting cut off by his hips snapping every second into yours, he's so deep and being so rough, it's hard enough to make you feel like you need to sob. Wooyoung twists your nipple and you yelp, trying to tug away from him. He's so mean, he laughs. “Poor ‘mega, needs two cocks to get off” wooyoung says with a fake tone. “isn't that right yeo? She's such a slut” he looks up to the other member. A sight built to be put in a museum. His muscular arms poke out from under his shirt, holding you tightly, his pants are pulled just over the curve of his ass, enough to have his dick out. He's got an eye on the way he slips in and out.

“right- Mm” he groans, snapping up again, you whimper falls into a moan. Wooyoung's hand splays down and moves closer to your clit, pinching it between his fingers. You choke and pull away, shaking your head. He laughs, loud and mean. Cooing at the tears falling from your eyes. “Do you even deserve to have yeo's knot?” wooyoung asks between heavy pants, hand shoved down his pants when he finally decides it's time to pay attention to the throb. Words falling short from your tongue. Wooyoung's free fingers dig into your clit, ruthless and brutal as he tries to push you to the edge. With the added pressure of yeosang pounding into you, you think you're going to break.

“Please please! I'm good I promise’ i- ah a-ill be good!” You hiccup, “please cum, in me- cum in me” you whimper as you're forced over the edge again today, hot spurts of wet sticky fluid splashing across the floor, yeosang, wooyoung and you, as you squirt for the second time. Yeosang is grunting through closed lips, eyebrows pull taunt. Wooyoung is managing, stroking himself so hard you can hear the stickiness of his dick. Whines and moans falling off his tongue as he brings himself over way too fast to not overstimulate himself. Watching as tears stain your cheeks.

Yeosang is spilling next, clenching your hips and rutting up into you, his teeth mark down hard against your shoulder blade, too overtaken by his orgasm to care where he plants his teeth, you cry out when wooyoung follows him next. Even harsher when he bites against the free and prominent spot on your shoulder, next time he'll have your primary glands, and he'll be the perfect alpha. He cums with a strangled moan against your stomach and his, trembling as he leans against you. Yeosangs soft breaths pant hard against your sweaty back. “so proud of you” yeosang says, gulping into his breaths. Knot pulsing.

“You took it all so well” yeosang kisses against your spine. “Our pretty omega” he adds on sucking against the bite he created. You whimper, sliding down onto your shaky shins. “Whoa, hey, stay with us” wooyoung coos softly, caressing against your back.

Your eyes are sleepy, slinking close. “I didn't mark you” your lip trembles, emotions high. Wooyoungs eyes shoot open. “You can still mark us pretty star, come on” he beckons you on, pulling part of his hoodie to the side so you have a view of his neck. “Go on gorgeous, mark your alphas” he encourages.

You're kissing the spot before your teeth sink in, a pained groan coming from wooyoung's throat as it bobbles when he swallows. When you pull back, you're satisfied, licking the spot with kitten licks and holding his jaw in your hands so you can kiss him. He leans down to kiss you, helping you out the best he can since you both are jelly.

You turn back to yeosang to pull him into a kiss, his hands pressing into your hips as he eagerly waits for the moment quietly. Soft, dainty pecks lay across your cheek and the corner of your lip, yeosang tilts his head down so you can reach a part of him to mark, it's a little awkward but you get the top swell of his shoulder between your teeth where his shirt had fallen. Deep enough to leave a mark. You're satisfied when you pull away and hum. Finally letting all of your muscles relax. Yeosang catches you in his strong grasp against him, wooyoung holds your shoulders.

“Love you” you mumble to yeosang this time. Yeosang kisses the crown of your head. Nuzzling into you gently. Although he isn't one to say he loves easily. It isn't hard to say it to you. “Love you too, Jagi” he quietly adds, caging you against him. Your head leans to the side, and wooyoung catches your face in his palm before it's uncomfortable.

“I think we overdid it,” Wooyoung says, in a bit of a panic. Yeosang scans your completely lax face, he's got an edge to his voice when he talks. “She can take it, she'll need a lot more than this” yeosang gestures to the two of them with his eyes. Your eyes are completely shut, sleeping against yeosang as his knot slowly retracts.

“What do you mean?” Woos eyebrows furrow. “Nothing. Nevermind.” yeosang nods into his words. Wooyoungs got some clue of what his member was trying to say, but it still left him wondering.

There's no awkward tension, no weird feelings. Just the three of you, who love each other. At some point yeosang would have been disgusted in the face of anyone saying he'd do things to you with his best friend. There really is no weird will or intentions now though, he's seen wooyoung naked before and he has seen him, they're comfortable. You on the other hand, he's never laid a lustful eye on you except for that one time. Maybe he had that wet dream about you, but it really wasn't on purpose.

The moment feels feverish. He rubs your side gently, still unsure of how to move when his knot is tucked into you. Wooyoung laughs lightly, enjoying the way his friend struggles. “Just wait, I'll get us something to clean up with” yeosang hums to confirm he heard him.

“Don't forget a pair of clothes” he calls after wooyoung. Wooyoung throws his hand back, he hears him.

And even as he looks over your sleeping face gently, and your comfortably naked body, he can't help but think this is something he wants to see every day. When he thinks wooyoung would be there too, or any other member for that matter. He doesn't feel uneasy, it feels right. Like it was always meant to happen.

There's been that distant memory of you in the back of his head. When he first met you, Wooyoung introduced him to you. Your face was shiny from the rain as you stepped into the practice room door. Peeling your jacket off. You smiled so brightly at him, giving him attention when wooyoung said his name. Your eyes always peeled back that layer yeosang would quietly hide behind.

You had turned to him as you finished up, handing him a snack. It was so simple. So random too. You spoke in your native tongue when you tried to word out what you were saying next. Face contorting as you searched for the right word in Korean. Lips pulling together unsure. You were trying so hard, and he was being so patient. Hand fiddling over the snack.

“Mate” you had simply said in his language, confusing him, the word was weird coming out of your mouth, confusing it for something else. You obviously don't know what that word means in his language. It means life partner, and he truly wonders if that is what you meant to say. He could tell you felt embarrassed the second after, biting your lip and looking away. You bid your goodbye to wooyoung quickly, waving at yeosang over your shoulder, still smiling.

Wooyoung is back quickly and when he is he's leaning you back on him and passing the towel to yeosang. His knot has retracted, once he slips out he's gathering the gloop of cum that's spilling. Wiping as gently as he can although you're sighing as you sleep, still sensitive. He's comforting you with a caress of his lips on your shoulder, even if you're asleep it seems to ease you back into wooyoung's arms. He holds you delicately and easily, head nuzzling on top of yours.

As he finishes and tucks himself back in, he's gathering the pair of clothes Wooyoung brought. A mix of their clothing, fresh and full of their scents. Just a pair of comfy short shorts, which happens to be yours. Wooyoung's shirt, Yeosang’s hoodie and lastly a pair of socks and underwear, yours too. Yeosang's slipping the shorts and underwear on you the best he can. Taking over so wooyoung can slip the shirt and hoodie over you.

You're stirring, head falling over the pillow when yeosang props you on it, holding your calves as he slips your socks on. “Hey” wooyoung is the first to notice, tilting his head down to catch your blurry eyes in his own dark orbs, his hands landing on your hips, kneading you over the fabric. You greet him back with a nod, reaching for his hand. He lets you, interlocking his fingers in yours.

“Talk to me boo bear, tell me how you're doing” wooyoung nudges his nose into your cheek, smiling softly at his own nickname for you. You grin softly. Reaching out to hold his waist. “Miss you both” you sigh with a pout, still sleepy as you try to reach your other hand out for yeosang when he massages your shin. He grabs your hand as soon as he sees it, crawling up and kissing your knuckles when he does so. “We're right here sweetheart” he mumbles into the curve of your neck as he slots himself down next to you.

“We didn't go anywhere gorgeous” woo finishes for him, leaning on his arm as he takes your otherside. Although you know they're there. There's still an urge in you to have them closer. “Need you closer” you add, “please?” wooyoung shushes you through his smile. Using the same hand he holds you with to smooth back your hair from your forehead. “You don't have to say please. God. You're such a good girl, our good baby, perfect omega." Wooyoung's compliments and praises come easily. Just as Yeosang works his lips on your shoulder, his lean arms wrapping around you comfortably.

“our perfect girl” Yeo hums softly. Head pressing over yours when he slots it above you, laying a kiss on the top of it. The scent of the two of them combining makes your head fuzzy in the best way, yeosang takes your other hand, folding it in his own and kissing your wrist before he tugs it down around your waist to hold you as close as possible. Wooyoung scoots in, peppering your face with his kisses softly, giddiness building on each one.

“Love you perfect girl” you hum into your smile, sobering up from the cramp and wave of heat that has passed. “You don't mean that” you mumble behind sleepy lids. Wooyoung squints his eyes. “I do, yeo told you there's no getting rid of us” he scoffs, shoving his face into your neck. Sucking harshly. You grumble, sensitive. “Say it back.” he says between a particular hard suck, littering your neck and scent gland with hickeys. It's not like he can mark you with his teeth there, but this gives him the way of feeling possessive over you enough. “You -”

Yeosang grabs your chin. Turning your head towards him. “We all love you. Make sure you know that.” he trails off as he talks, rubbing his fingers under your chin. “Promise you'll remember that.”

You know what he's hinting at, even as wooyoung distracts you with his plump lips sucking your skin and nipping. You know what he really wants. He wants you to remember this, how doting they are, how they can take care of you, cause truly they can, they can provide and be perfect. They can stick with you 24/7. Cause it's not like you're away from them for long if you all end up on break. Your eyes feel droopy, heavy with emotions as yeosangs flicker back and forth.

“I love you too” you say through a shaky breath, staring him directly in the eyes. You squeeze both of their hands. Yeosang leans down to capture your lips softly, a gentle dance that tells you he means it.

Wooyoung is satisfied enough to leave your neck alone, pecking your lips as soon as yeosang pulls away. Woo slots his head where his mouth was. Breathing your pouring scent in gently with wide takes.

“Are they done?” Seonghwa clears his throat as he asks from over his shoulder, mingi stands flush, one ear bud slipped out of his ear as he's propped against the opposite counter, an attempt to distract himself with his phone. “They were done a while ago..” jongho trails off for mingi, sat on the stool next to hongjoong, the said alpha with a pair of headphones on after he realized what was happening.

San is missing, no doubt working one out in the bathroom. Jongho is equally flushed, its not like you lot were particularly quiet. Especially not wooyoung. Seonghwa scoots a glass of ice water across the counter, catching everyone's attention.

“Bring that to her please” seonghwa gestures, yunho scoops it up before anyone else can.

“I got it” he says as he leaves.

Yunho is presenting the water to the three of you, foot tapping against wooyoungs clad sock. “You smell like cum, did you change?” yunhos nose scrunches. Above it all is your scent. “Nope” wooyoung pops the ‘p’. Not even bothering to pull away enough to see yunho eye to eye.

Yeosang pushes his friends shoulder, sitting up from your sleepy arms. He places a kiss to your cheek as he gets up, and a few more on your knuckles when he takes his hand from yours. “We'll go change now” he looks to wooyoung pointedly. The other member groans. “Fine. Fine. Jeez.” He mumbles, kissing your nose as he goes, then your interlocked hands as he pulls away.

You turn to look at yunho, arms opening for the taller guy. He smiles gently, slotting to his knees to sit next to you in your arms. “Drink baby” he tells you as he hands you the glass cup. You chug it down greedily, just so you can lay in his arms after. His hand encases your back, palming up and down softly. Your head hits his peck when you hand the cup back to him.

“Thank you,” you tell him. “Don't thank me” he tells you once again. “a kiss for your feelings?” He smiles into his words. You laugh. “I'm good, tired. But I'm feeling good.” you nuzzle into his shirt. He hums when you talk, listening. “Do you need anything? Food? More water-” you stop him with a gentle tug of his head into your shoulder. “hugs. comfort. Don't go too far.” even if you're foggy from the amount of times you came. You're still needy for affection. Yunho indulges you, caging you against the floor with his bigger body.

“anything for you” he whispers into your shoulder. Eventually time passes like that, curled up under Yunho's lanky arms. You take a minute to invite Yeosang back in when he comes back over. Sitting next to your head and threading his fingers into your hair. He's slipping down so he’s holding you but from a distance so he's not taking Yunho's space. Comfortably slotting behind you once again.

It's not long, perhaps half an hour later you wake up in yeosangs arms, yunho had left. Possibly to return your empty glass. Yeosang has you placed against his side, head on his chest. He's napping comfortably, soft breaths rising from his chest and parting from his lips. Your arm wraps around his waist. For a second you retract your arm, laying a quick peck to his cheek as you stand up on wobbly legs.

The hallway is quiet, comfortably so. Your arm reaches around in the kitchen, holding yourself against the cool wall as you peek your head in. The first to see you is Hongjoong, opposite of you. He sits against the counter, working away at his laptop.

“my pretty girl” he stands up, face brightening. He wraps you in his arms. He smiles brightly as he takes you. Kisses upon kisses laid on your face. You smile, arms wrapping around his neck. “my joongie babe” you hum, glancing around the kitchen. There's Yunho and Jongho, doing dishes. Seonghwa sat next to Hongjoong, gathering papers and notes that Hongjoong left strewn about.

“seonghwa” You pout, Hongjoong sways you in his arms, turning his head over his shoulder to the member. Seonghwa hums as he picks his head up, coming over at your call. He grabs the hand you place out for him, wrapping himself around your back.

You grab his cheek with the same hand, rubbing your thumb against him softly. “that's better,” you sigh. Drowning in some more of your boys. Joong giggles quietly, glancing to hwa. “Missed us?” joong asks. Hwa snickers softly, head slotting over your own. “Mm yeah” “how're you feeling now?” hwa speaks up, swaying you back and forth with hongjoong. You lean your head between their chests.

“Less groggy,” they each hum. “Think you could hold a conversation?” Your eye peeks up to look between the two. “Depends on the conversation” you smile warily. Seonghwa smooths his palm over your shoulder, turning you gently in Hongjoongs arms to face him.

Hwa looks to hongjoong one more time, sighing softly. “There was a problem with your heat sanctuary booking. It got mixed up.” He pauses to breathe, scanning your face for a reaction. “I have another place on standby, but.. we wanted to ask if you wanted to wait your heat out at home? With us, here” he fiddles with his hands, leaning on his feet.

Even if it was hongjoongs idea, seonghwa is asking you. Genuinely wanting you to answer, nervously biting his lip as he looks back over your shoulder at hongjoong, the captain smiles gently. Encouraging, seonghwa takes a breath.

You're sober enough to realize what seonghwa is asking. He wouldn't be if he knew you weren't capable of saying what you truly think without interference. You swallow. Hwa continues. “You don't have to answer now, we can talk after you eat dinner-”

“No, no. I want to be here.” You confirm, glances between the two. “I want to be home, I don't see myself anywhere else during this.” you confirm with a strong nod.

Seonghwa seems to heave out a breath of air, hongjoong swings you around to lean his body on yours in a tight, fluffy hug, a giggle falling from both of your lips.

Dinner was perfect. But there's always something going on. At some point cola got spelt. No one knows whose cup it was. Or, no one will own up to it. So, one of your favorite blankets was soaked. As soon as you started getting upset about it, San offered to replace it for now with himself. He's gonna be your blanket for the night.

You huffed out a laugh as he pulled you into his lap, interlocking himself around you. You finished your food like that, eating in sans lap whilst he ate with you. Every so often he'd press a kiss to your head. And finally when everyone got done eating. You all had to get ready for bed. You didn't want to get up. Didn't want to leave your sacred circle.

“Nooo” you whined as jongho attempted to raise your hips to pull you up, you slumped, lying face down. He huffs, calling your name with a click of his tongue. “You have to get up” he tries again gently, he can easily, but he won't drag you from the comfort that's your circle. You shove your arms under the pillow joong brought out for you. Digging your face into it. Jonghos legs are placed either side of your thighs, he's standing, as he attempts to get you up. Your hips are wiggling away from his hands whenever he tries. And at some point you laugh, because you're a bit ticklish now. You throw your head over your shoulder at him, lifting your legs up between his thighs. There's a graze and he pulls away with a huff, hands on his hips.

You're a little shit. You know that. He knows that. But you can't help but tease your younger member. Smiling like the devil behind a pair of pretty lips. “You're ridiculous” he groans. “You love it” you say, satisfied with your tone. “Didn't say i didn't” he reaches your arms, and tosses you over. It's quick and for a second you forgot jongho can deadlift you. He pulls your arms up over his shoulder as he bends down close to you. Carrying you easily now over his shoulder. You're faced with jonghos lower back, more specifically his sculpted butt In a pair of tight sweats. Jonghos view is the same, your shorts fit really well on you. Like, really well. His hand holds your uncovered thigh tightly so you don't slip.

“You can't escape now,” he says, sing-song like. You laugh as he spins you back and forth. “You can't hold me forever” you huff, poking his side from the angle you're at. “hey!” He twitches. “Wanna bet?” He takes an experimental step out of the nest. Gauging your audible reaction. You sigh, and pat him to say go ahead. Smoothing your hand over his wide back. The loose shirt he has on does nothing for his muscular figure. He's so pretty, he just doesn't show skin, and that's okay.

The trudge to the bathroom is funny enough when somewhere on the walk, a palm scans your upper thighs. You jump and audibly call out to whoever did it. You know it's wooyoung when he's laughing. Jongho whines at how provocative it is, pulling you away from the other member. The last ones to brush their teeth are jongho and you. Jongho is hanging back so he can have that time with you. When he sets you down, he's already got your puffy headband in hand. Smoothing it over your hair and smiling proudly.

Skincare is everything before bed. You feel refreshed as soon as you're done. Applying toothpaste to your brush. Jonghos behind you, glaring at his teeth in the mirror and occasionally rearranging the things on the counter as he focuses on brushing. You're too busy staring, his dewy face catching your attention. Shiny from the water.

His hand leans nearby, coming to snake under yours at the counter as he leans over your shoulder behind you. His chin falling on your head. His eyebrows furrow. “Did you grow shorter?” he mumbles through a mouthful of toothpaste. Did you? You scan yourself in the mirror, glancing down at your sock clad feet. “Maybe?” You huff. You haven't been wearing platform shoes recently. It's rare you don't. You always have to wear some type of heel to match the height of the guys for events or filming.

Jongho hums over your head. Leaning over to spit the toothpaste in the sink. You do the same. Rinsing the rest with mouthwash. Your scent is all you at the moment, calm and collected. Pure and simple. Jongho has a question on his mind. And it's possibly the best moment to ask just as you wash your toothbrush off.

“When your heat is over, do you want to get something to eat with me?” He nervously asks, a pitch to his voice. He rinses his toothbrush off. Avoiding your pretty eyes. The pricking of sweat doting his forehead. Or is that water? “Yea, that sounds nice,” you smile, he lets out the breath he was holding. “Where do you want to go?” You finish, turning around to face him. He places his toothbrush in its spot on the side. Hands coming around to lean on the counter on either side of you.

“Wherever you want to go” he nods, a smile coming across his features. You copy it. “I asked first” your hands wrap around his shoulders, palming his cheeks. The contact makes his heart skip. He thinks about it for a minute, eyes flashing over your features. “can you guess where I'll take you?”

You laugh. Light and airy. Jonghos smile widens at the sound, it's memorable. Something he wants to hear all the time. “I know what you're doing” you shake your head. Eyes scrunching. His hands come around your waist, smoothing against your back. He gives in, lips pursing. “Okay okay, uhm. There's this new exhibit, I know you like those” he mumbles at the end, as if attempting to reassure himself. “It has dining and art” he goes on, rocking on his feet.

“Mhm?” You encourage him. “it has a visual thing, I forgot what they're called” you smile so brightly, jongho sucks a breath in. “That sounds really nice. I look forward to it.” you stare at him for a second, jongho does the same. You're so pretty in his eyes. Soft and comfortable in his arms. You have the younger alpha wrapped around your fingers. He never thought he'd see the day you reciprocate his feelings. He's been head over heels for you since he knew you.

His eyes glide down to your lips. Red from how aggressive you brush your teeth with the minty toothpaste. He's leaning in before he can think about it, taking your breath away with his own. And for a second, he thinks you're heaven on earth. Clinging to his neck and pushing up on your feet into him. His arms are strong and heavy against your waist. A soft build up of sticky lips and mint interlacing between the two of you. A rise of heat floating to jonghos cheek. He's actually kissing you. He's so lucky. Omega sex aside, jongho just wants you, soul, body, spirit. And he can have it. Just have you if you'll let him.

He's leaning down now, more eager to just have you. To breathe you in and cherish your lips whilst he has them in his. A shuddered sigh being pulled from his lungs when you bite down on his lower lip. Your tongue prods his bottom lip. Asking for entrance. You don't have to ask twice. Jongho indulges the taste of you, caressing your tongue and swallowing your needy gasps with his own quiet moans. His hand finds its way up, and around. One digging onto your hip and the other holding the back of your neck to draw you closer.

Your hip brushes against the sink as he leans you back, pulling away with a groan. You chase after him with your own swollen lips, and he keeps pulling back. You’re pleading for more as you grip his shirt tightly in yours. “jongho” you whine, lip pouting out. Jongho smiles, a slight chuckle arising and brushing across your sulky face.

He's got composure, yes, but you're so pretty and he wants you. Both of you tensely staring in the bathroom where he just asked you on a date. He's skipping steps, it's not very gentlemanly, but... He can't help it. You're everything. Your scent is suffocating in the best way. He knows you are in other ways too. You're wiggling and pouting. Purposefully trying to get him to give in. And maybe he worked you up a little too much, cause your scent is the only thing he can smell. And your pupils dilating are the only thing he can see.

“Jongie, in the nest. please?” You beg, looking for his hands with your free one. Whilst your other crawls along his shoulder blade. “in the nest? Jagi..” he coos, a false comfort to you, as he slips, interlocking your hand in his. The one that so desperately seeks him. He pulls you into him, guiding your arm over his shoulder. “You want to be where everyone can see us?” He bends his head down to lock eyes with you, there's a glint in them. “don't you?” Your face is downturned, eyes looking up through pretty eyelashes that part. He watches you bite your bottom lip. He hums for an answer. Urging you on.

“How about we do it in here, huh?” He goes on, slipping his knee in-between your legs as he pushes you against the counter. “hide away, keep you to myself” he mumbles. Hands gently caressing over your waist, fingers fiddling with the drawstrings of your shorts. You look down at his hands, and God is it a sight. You can see the intricate details of jonghos hands, but the most prominent thing that catches your attention is the way his member imprints in his sweats. Already waiting for attention.

You swallow thickly. “What do you say, omega? Wanna sneak off?”

Roof roof grr roof roof BARK BARK. Sorry. Half proofread. Comments keep me MOTIVATED. Let me hear yall be unhinged lmao. Thank you all again! Shoutout to my pookie @hhoneylix ily thank u for listening to me ramble abt these two teehee.

taglist: @lelaleleb @bratty-tingz @0325tiny @smilefordongil @atinytinaa @yunholuvrsblog @ja3hwa @stopeatread @sousydive @voicesinmyhead-rc @giiouis @c4tboyxiao @eastleighsblog @doggopepper @uhhheather @hyukssunflower @hhoneylix @tunaasan @satsuri3su @acescavern @edusweah @silentcry329 @silentreadersthings @ldysmfrst @idfkeddieishot @zdgx1 @lomons @rln-byg @mommahwa1117 @ddaeing @chngbnwf @mentoslol @spooo00oky @dawn-iscozy @ateezima (thank u all! If the tag isn't working or i forgot to add u, please let me know strike thru means I can't tag u for some reason ♥︎ if you want to be added to the taglist comment here -> ★ )

[jammingjaem]

hiiii just read all ur works in like 5 mins and i have decided i love u now 🥺

also,,,, can i req idol!dreamies reaction to idol!s/o being shipped with a different idol 👉👈 thank you hihi keep choosing happy 💚

ᓚᘏᗢ nct dream reacting to idol!you being shipped with another idol

thank yewww for requesting & thank yew for liking my works 🫶🫶 ily too !! this was too fun to make— i hope you enjoy these text messages!! (also nobody asked when i post but i realized that i post every 2-3 days hehe)

mentioned idols from groups (in order): ateez, zb1, cravity, the boyz, txt, riize, p1harmony

[queers-gambit]

When Pride Married Prejudice -- completed series masterlist

requesting rules and masterlist

completed series summary: she is the (only) trueborn daughter of Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen and Lord Laenor Velaryon. after her younger brother, Lucerys, slices out the eye of their uncle, Aemond Targaryen, her hand is offered as payment to keep the peace. though unexpected, she finds herself in a loving marriage, until devastating news forces her to make an impossible choice.

pairing: Aemond Taargaryen x Velaryon!wife!reader

fandom masterlist: House of the Dragon

total series word count: 97,184

universal warnings: book and show spoilers, cursing, smut, angst.

note: alternate endings because i'm restless and can't choose. also the idea of a Velaryon!reader isn't my own, so, let's play nice and show a shred of respect for different author's varying ideas, perspectives, and details - thank yew ✨

in chronological order:

When Pride Married Prejudice

When Pride Married Prejudice [ part two ]

It Feels Like (the Very) First Time

It Feels Like (the Very) First Time [ part two ]

Petitions

Distraction

The Inky Green Council

Bearer of Bad News

alternate ending one: Kin Slayer • [ part two ]

alternate ending two: Sweetest Devotion • [ part two ]

guide to final alternate endings: Kin Slayer -- is for those in the slutty angst club 'cause i'm comin' for your feelings. reader is Team Black. Sweetest Devotion -- is for those who crave closure and comfort. reader is Team Green.

in order of publication: Distraction Bearer of Bad News Petitions The Inky Green Council When Pride Married Prejudice WPMP [ part two ] It Feels Like (the Very) First Time It Feels Like (the Very) First Time [ part two ] alternate endings: Kin Slayer • [ part two ] // Sweetest Devotion • [ part two ]

WPMP Universe drabbles:

all with be marked if they are or are not considered part of the series timeline. please pay attention to those notes.

organized in order of submission brought to you by my beautiful readers who sent requests:

• ( requested ) -- ANGST and small fluff i wonder who aemond would choose if he was given the choice of saving his wife or the baby during childbirth... would he choose the same as his father?

• ( requested ) -- ANGST and FLUFF i LOVE how you worded Aemond choosing sweet girl over the baby because in all truth, i imagine him justifying his choice as "what use would i be to a child without the tender care of a mother and an empty shell of a father?" because he knows IF he had chosen otherwise, he would be following in Viserys' footsteps and he wants to be better. so i 100% agree he would choose them over the child and ofc he's read of the aftermath of losing a child for the mother, so he's there to coax sweet girl but at the same time i feel like he'd mourn with her because that was a life they created together.

• ( requested ) -- ANGST how would he react if ever in a very unlucky world, he would lose both his child and wife at childbirth (not like viserys where he was given a choice) but bec it just didnt end well esp when pregnancies doesnt really guarantee a safe delivery all the time.

• ( requested ) -- ANGST and FLUFF 3 Times He Didn't, 1 Time He Did can you please write something where the reader (the same reader in your series) is spending memorable time with her grand sire and he asks her “will I be remembered as a good king”. 🥺

Wattpad link

to all my beloved readers -

thank you for coming on this journey with me. what a ride it's been writing this. now that the series is complete, i admit i'm a bit sad. i just wanted to take the time to thank you all for bearing with me through this, and share my gratitude and love for you all. happy reading!

all my love, 🖤🍒 Cherry

[manticore-fangs]

ohhh im so glad u write for graves because i cannot stop thinkin about him getting home from deployment and fucking shy!fem!reader like as soon as he gets through the door because he missed his pretty girl so much :( he's like a man starved because he is!!! it was driving him nuts not hearing ur sweet voice and feeling ur soft skin every morning and now he's back and he's not gonna let u go anywhere any time soon!!!

omggg :(( when he flings open the door to find you in HIS long t-shirt and just skimpy panties on?? ohhhhhh he’s gone MAD !!!! (not proof read btw)

cw: smut

“fuck- phillip what are you-“ you couldn’t even finish your sentence without him just diving right into your mouth, sloppy and messy kisses, and your losing breath but he doesn’t care, just needs to know that his love is safe in his arms and okay. he finally lets you take a breather before lifting you up on the nearest structure, which is the dining table.

“phillip, im making food!! it’s gonna get fucking burnt!” you whine and writhe but he’s not letting you go, he needs to have you now. when he was kissing, his hands kept grasping at your (his) shirt, needing it off. “so needy phillip-“ “take ya’ fuckin clothes off and head to the bedroom. i wanna have a good lil’ time with my precious doll, haven’t seen yew’ foreva’ i need ya’ bae, please.” you’ve never seen him be desperate but desperate he was.

you shuffled up the stairs swiftly with your shirt hanging off of your shoulders from the force of him grabbing your harshly, hearing small shreds. you then heard those familiar boots come up the stares, you wide-eyed and realized you didn’t remove your clothes. just as you took off your panties, phillip came in, just looking at your body, staring up n’ down. admiring your form.

“missed ya’ so much bae, couldn’t stand being alone, lemme fuck ya’ please, i know i haven’t showered but i need ya’ i need ye’ so bad. please” his begs are like music to your ears, you think about it for a second before nodding and saying “but- be gentle.” and he nods vigorously. you tell him to come up and in the bed, which he followed through being the good man he is of course.

now he’s balls deep within your pussy and just hammering it, your poor lips getting a beaten from his heavy cum filled balls. their so heavy and- “fuck, love need more of ya’ i just need more of your pretty, perfect pussy. please, let me rub that lil clit for you?” and you nod, your cock drunk and came around 3 times already and you don’t even know what will happen next.

he slaps your clit, not to rough but not to soft either. he hits it, then pats it a few times, leaving you so close to your fourth. he has came 2 times but jesus christ you weren’t prepared for shit next.

he changed positions, pushed your head down as your ass was arched up and he just unbelievably pounded into you, leaving no mercy behind. the rough hands on your hips were definitely get a bruise, your mind hazy in that subspace. just moaning and drooling everywhere. and that’s when you and him both cum for the final time. leaving you in shambles as he collapses beside you. your whimpering from the little stings in your legs and your shaking a bit.

after all of that aftercare, you guys (he carries you) finally reached the bedroom, you both settled down and cuddled up, having some type of show on in the background to fall asleep too, but before you finally close your eyes phillip speaks. “thank you love for this, love you so much, love you.. so perfect for me- ‘m never letting you go. never”

your passed asleep right next to him, in his arms, in bed, at our home

(not proof read, so sorry it’s 6 am 😭😭)

[philistiniphagottini]

hope you’re having a wonderful day nagi 🫂 let us know what you’ve been up to recently, and please please share the ideas you mentioned with chubby reader ꒰ ˊᵕˋ ꒱

i’d love to hear them ٩(˶˃ᗜ˂)و and i also have a request fur yew if it’s something you’re interested in. i’m always running back to re–read your domestic bliss event fic w childe, and so... 🙇‍♀️ could i request some more fluff / comfort with childe and fem. reader please? (chubby reader if you wanted ❤ )

‘was thinking fluffcomfort sharing a bath with him because soft nudity <33 just melting back into ajax, and fem. reader expressing her insecurities about not feeling pretty or worth enough. maybe with a hint of head massages.. or soft sweet teasing 😣😣 thank you sm nagi, keep taking care of urself dear pookie ෆ

Hey miauamy! I see your pfp has changed again and it's really cute! I'm so happy to see you back I hope you have been well since we last spoke. I always get so excited to see you, your ideas are always so lovely. And if you have anymore, please share them I'm always happy to hear them ^3^

Thank you for letting me indulge a bit with this, I low key self-projected, but I love the comfort of sharing a bath I need to do it for more characters it's a lot of fun. And oh my god I loved my domestic bliss event it was a lot of fun to write so much fluff. Guys, please let me know if you want me to do it again. I was thinking about doing it during August, because that's when my birthday is, and I wanted to do something special for it. Anyways, enough yapping I hope you enjoy~

cw. fluff, comfort, bathing, nudity but no smut, chubby reader, female reader, 1.7k words

“Hey Childe, can I ask you a question? And be honest with me.”

Childe hummed in response as his body sank further into the warm waters of the bathtub, fingers tangled in his hair as he flicked out the stray beads of bubbles that had managed to somehow knot in his hair. His gaze flickered over to you as you huddled yourself on the opposite end of the bathtub. Your knees were pulled to your chest, arms hugged tight around them as you stared absentmindedly at the wisps of steam stemming from the surface of the water. Copious amounts of bubbles obscured your plump figure beneath the water’s surface, the suds clinging to your skin like a second layer. 

You swallowed around the lump in your throat, tongue wetting your dry lips as your eyes continued to flick between Childe and a random spot on the light’s fixture dangling above your heads. He patiently waited for you to speak as you tried to pick the right words out of your head, turning them over and over as his gaze became lidded in contented bliss. This hot bath was doing wonders for his aching muscles and it felt like he could start to drift off as his eyes drooped. But your voice snapped him right back to attention as you asked the question that had been gnawing at the back of your mind for far too long. 

“Do you think I’m fat?” you asked, a hint of hesitance lacing your tone.

As soon as the words breezed past your lips, you desperately wished you could snatch them back and shove them down your throat. You shyly peered up at Childe beneath thick lashes as they fluttered over your hot cheeks, a fresh wave of embarrassment eating away at your nerves when you took one look at Childe’s face. His eyebrows had shot up to his hairline as he gave you an incredulous look like you had just slapped him across the face, the hit dazing him and still stinging even after he took a few seconds to process what had been said. Childe cocked his head to the side, his single earring gently clinking as the ruby gleamed under the soft light. 

“Why the sudden question?” he asked cautiously. 

You shook your head, knees pressed tighter to your chest as your heart threatened to jump straight out of your throat. You swallowed it back down with a shuddering breath, pulse pounding in your ears like the loud beat of a drum as an immense wave of guilt sank its icy fangs into your bones. You shouldn’t have said anything. You should have kept your thoughts to yourself. You hated how such a simple question was already sending your mind into a tizzy, crystalline tears pricking in the corners of your eyes as you fought them back. Being this vulnerable certainly wasn’t as easy as shedding a few layers of clothes. You took a deep breath and you hated the little sniffle that grated against your ears as you tried to let the scent of expensive oils curl in your lungs and calm your frantic nerves.

“Forget I said anything” you stammered. 

Childe hated the way your nose scrunched up and despite his rugged looks and haggard body, he felt the overwhelming urge to coddle you. He raised his hand and beckoned you to come closer.

“Come here” he softly cooed. 

You shook your head as you dabbed your fingers under your eyes, trying to stem your flow of tears. You planted your feet firmly on the bottom of the tub and refused to budge. 

“No” you defied, yet there was hardly a trace of fight in your voice. 

“Come here” Childe urged, his voice turning into sickly sweet honey. 

You hesitate and that’s when Childe choose his moment to strike. The moment your tense muscles relaxed, his hands shot out and wrapped around your ankles. You barely had time to react, your loud shriek echoing off the tiled walls as his strong hands curled into your skin and you were pulled into his direction. Water sloshed and spilled over the lip of the tub as Childe caught you in his grasp, strong hands gripping your plump hips and soft stomach as he dragged your naked body into his lap. The tips of your ears burned red hot as your knees fell beside his hips and you squirmed, but he was not letting go of you that easily. 

“What’s wrong love?” Childe asked, cooing your name softly.

You pressed the seam of your lips into a tight, thin line as you shook your head again, tussling the stray beads of water out of your hair. You placed your hands on his chest, gently shoving him away to create some distance between you. You must be heavy sitting on top of him like this and you would hate it if you caused him any amount of discomfort. You refused to look at him, a small pout tugging at your plump lips as your cheeks puffed up. 

“Nothing” you lied. 

A soft chuckle breezed past Childe’s lips at your defiance, a patient smile stretching his lips as he brushed the hair out of your glassy eyes and tugged the long strands behind your ears. 

“It’s obviously something if you’re being a pouty baby about it” Childe countered, gently prodding at you. “Come on, tell me.”

You squeaked as he bounced you in his lap, legs shifting beneath you to better hold you closer. You could feel his thunderous heartbeat dance beneath the palm of your hand, the tips of your fingers tingling as they pressed against the deep scar that was slashed across his ribs.  

“It’s nothing” you said. “I’m just fat and ugly.”

A sharp hiss whistled through your teeth as Childe pinched your round cheeks with his calloused fingers, tugging on your skin until you started to make a fuss. There was a small pinch between his brow, but his expression eased when he next spoke.

“No one is allowed to speak ill of you” Childe reprimanded. “And that includes you.”

You weakly swatted at his hands until he decided to relent. Your cheeks were hot with embarrassment but you couldn’t find the strength in yourself to move away from Childe. It was nice, being pressed this close to him as he gently eased your worries with each passing moment. You stuffed your dry lips between your teeth, idly chewing on the cracked and peeling skin as you softly sniffled. 

“Be honest. I am fat” you muttered, letting go of your bruised lips as a dejected sigh blew past your lips.

“You are not” Childe immediately responded. 

The nasty thoughts itching at the back of your skull paused in their relentless onslaught as your ears perked up. His voice sounded so genuine and sincere that you were inclined to believe him. But the seeds were already so buried deep within your heart and soul that just a few words of affirmation weren’t quite enough to simply uproot them. Childe squeezed your soft stomach into the palms of his large hands until the soft pudge spilled between the splayed digits. You squirmed from the attention, not quite used to having your love handles squeezed so fondly. 

“You’re like a little chubby bird” Childe said, plucking words out of his head as he looked thoughtful. “They’re round and cute. How could you hate such innocent, soft creatures?”

A disgruntled noise bubbled up your throat as you buried your flushed face into the crook of his neck, hiding your unshed tears as you nudged your head into his damp skin.

“Stop” you complained. 

Even if you grumbled about it, your body was completely relaxed around him and your words were starting to lose its bite. Since you were content to keep your face pressed so close to him, Childe thought it was the perfect opportunity to reach for the shampoo bottle sitting perched next to him. He swiped it from its spot and popped the cap to it, briefly pressing it to his nose as the scent of passion flowers tickled his senses. You nuzzled your face deeper into his neck as Childe massaged his fingers through your hair, lathering the shampoo into your locks as he gently teased the tangles out. Your eyes slipped close in the silence that followed, the nasty thoughts that had bubbled to the surface finally sinking back into the abyss where they belonged. Your ears pricked forward as Childe decided to speak again, letting the thoughts in his head flow out without rhyme or reason, yet done with so much practiced ease that you felt like he had said them over and over again. 

“You know, I sometimes wish you could see yourself through my eyes. You’re beautiful. Even if you gained weight, you’d still look gorgeous to me. You’re healthy and perfectly fine with just the way you are. And I’ll keep telling you and proving you wrong no matter how much you bad mouth yourself. You’re my sweet girl and nothing is going to take you away from me.”

It took you a long moment to process his words as he continued to rub his fingers along your scalp. You melted into his touch, a contented purr rumbling in your chest as your body thrummed with content. You smiled softly as you pressed your cheek into his shoulder, looking up at him with eyes just as dazed as your mind. 

“Has anyone ever told you how much of a sweet talker you are, Tartaglia?” 

He shrugged his shoulders in a nonchalant roll, forcing you to move your head as you pressed closer to him. His lips brushed against the tip of your nose as he chuckled softly, the faintest hint of sparkle in the depths of his azure gaze. 

“I’m a debt collector, sweet talking is part of the deal.”

You hummed softly as you poked your fingers into his side, your fingertips tickling his ribs as you idly traced the dips of his scars. Not even that was much of a distraction as he finished lathering your hair in sweet scented shampoo, the tips of his fingers already pruning from how long you had both been soaking in the tub for. . 

“Feel a bit better?” he asked. 

You hummed in agreement. “A bit. Thank you.” 

You briefly pressed your lips to his cheek. When you pulled back, your nose crinkled. 

“I think you should wash your hair too. It smells like a battlefield.”

[cheolhub]

YOUR MINE AND I TAKE CARE OF WHAT BELONGS TO ME + CHEOL

Also happy cheolhubversary <333 IM NOT YET DONE READING UR POST i just ran as fast as i could here when yew said ure only taking the first 5-10 reqs hajdjdjsk

12:37 a.m. — choi seungcheol

prompt. “you’re mine and i take care of what belongs to me.”

wc. ~1.4k

warnings. established relationship, frat boy!cheol, cheeky!reader, slight possessiveness, choking, pet names [baby, angel], doggy style? (idk, it’s against the door 😅) dirty talk, unprotected sex, creampie – MINORS DNI 18+

note. ok so ik i said my limit was 1k for these drabbles, but plz understand i can’t hold back when it comes to cheol. ANYWAY!! kai <3 thank u for sending an ask !! ^^ i know this is kinda… meh,, but i hope u enjoy it a little bit anyway  >< (def not proofread… sorry)

⇢ ˗ˏˋ join the birthday bash!  ࿐ྂ

seungcheol dragging you through a sea of sweaty bodies was the last thing you wanted. 

well, no actually… it’s exactly what you wanted. your plan worked out just the way you knew it would. 

your attempts to get cheol’s attention at the start of the night proved to be futile as he had to make sure tonight’s party was in order. “the frat might get suspended if another one of our parties gets out of control,” he’d said. you could care less about the frat. not with the way your panties were glued to your needy, needy core. “i just gotta make sure everything is okay. just mingle for a bit, ‘kay?”

and you definitely weren’t the happiest when he told you to wait till the night was over, so you did what you do best. 

piss him the fuck off.

by the time the party was in full swing, you’d asked at least 3 of seungcheol’s frat brothers the same question. “this party is so lame,” you’d said through a sad sigh. “can you do something for me?” the question always came out so…suggestively. it was obvious you were plotting something and looking for someone to do the dirty work.

but soonyoung was too drunk to comprehend your words and wonwoo knew the second you’d walked up to him with a frown on your face. he said he’s not getting in between you and seungcheol after the last time he fell for your antics. 

but vernon… vernon was the perfect prospect. he would get the job done perfectly. 

“nonnie,” you pouted, much too pretty for his liking. “will you do me a favor?”

and vernon, ever the sweet angel, replied with, “anything. what’s up?”

you leaned in and ghosted your lips over the shell of his ear, “will you tell cheol that this party fucking sucks?” you felt his body vibrate against yours as he let out a soft laugh. “and tell him that if he doesn’t come fuck me, i’ll find someone that will.”

vernon pulled back and wearily raised an eyebrow at you.

“i’m not actually going to,” you explained through a laugh. “but if i tell him, he’ll know i'm bluffing. but if you tell him while also mentioning you heard this from wonwoo and soonyoung, then… you know. i get what i want and everyone’s happy.” you corrected yourself, “well, i’ll be happy.” 

the thing you love the most about vernon is he doesn’t ask very many questions. you could ask him to help you bury a body and he probably wouldn’t even bat an eye, just do as you ask with a nod and a careless shrug.

he went off and did exactly that. and you didn’t regret making him do it at all.

how could you when seungcheol was seething, practically shoving everyone out of his way to find you after hearing that you needed someone at this shitty party to fuck you? you’ll have to find the loose-lipped vernon later and thank him for relaying the rumor to your busy boyfriend.

honestly, you weren’t expecting him to drop everything– to stop running the party which was the whole reason he left you hanging in the first place– just to pull you into his room, wrap his hand around your throat, and slam you against the door. 

“you’re a little slut,” he chuckles, obviously amused. you smile back at him cheekily, eyes glazing over. “you think i don’t know what you’re up to?”

“what ever do you mean, cheollie?” you ask innocently, still smiling like a devil in disguise.

he leans in, lips ghosting over yours as he asks, “i mean, you really think anyone at this party can fuck you like i do? make you cum like i can?” 

his voice is low and hushed and it’s making your head spin. even over the booming music from outside his door, all you can hear is your heart pounding in your ears and his slight pants.

“you’re mine.” he says without a shadow of a doubt. “and i take care of what belongs to me. got that?”

you don’t have a chance to reply when he’s tightening his grip around your throat and smashing his lips against yours. he laughs against your mouth when you let out a choked moan into his, easing his hold on you. 

his free hand finds its way under your skirt, rubbing your cunt through your embarrassingly wet panties. seungcheol moans when he feels it. the lace growing wetter with every movement.

he pulls back, observing your glassy eyes and the way your wet, swollen lips part to emit a whine. his cock can’t help but twitch under the confinement of his jeans. “don’t even need me to prep you, do you, baby?” he breathily asks. “you’re soaking my hand through your panties, poor thing.”

you shake your head fervently, “just need you inside of me. please.”

“i know you do, such a needy baby. going around and telling everyone how you need someone to fuck you.” he coos, fingers catching your clit and rubbing into the sensitive clothed bud. your hands grasp at the hem of his shirt, trying to gyrate your hips for more, but you fail miserably. “impatient, too.” he hums. 

“fuck, cheol, please!” you whine desperately. 

he groans, ripping his hands away from you entirely before spinning you around and pressing your front against the door. you softly gasp as your cheek smooshes against the wooden door.

you hear the clanking of his belt and the zip of his zipper and you can barely contain your excitement. you flatten your palms on the door, arching your back and wiggling your ass in front of him.

he grunts at the sight, flipping your dress up and pulling your panties to the side. he slots his heavy tip between your lips and runs it through your drenched folds.

a mewl erupts in your chest when you finally feel the fat head of his cock slip into you, stretching you open as he pushes himself deeper and deeper till he’s fully sheathed inside of you. he grazes right against your spongy spot and it has your hands clawing at the door. 

seungcheol lets you adjust to the sheer size of him for all but a minute before he’s pulling out and thrusting back into you. 

and when his arm wraps around your middle, fingers diligently rubbing into your clit, you can’t hold the cry back. his name leaves your mouth rather loudly and you’re starting to feel grateful for the rambunctious party. 

his laughs airly, “this what you wanted, baby? wanted to get fucked, yeah?”

pained pleasure shoots through your body with every thrust, every bump to your cervix, every dirty word he grunts into the hot room, and it feels fucking fantastic. you clench around him, velvet walls squeezing him tight as if they’re trying to mold to the shape of him. 

“cheol!” is the only coherent thing that you can get out as his balls lewdly and rapidly slap against your cunt. 

“getting close? you ‘bout ready to cum for me?” he groans, mercilessly driving into you. you probably can’t hear him over the sounds of your moans, so he just rubs circles deeper into your clit, feeling you clamp around his cock for the nth time. 

you sob, a coil in your tummy getting tighter and tighter before you jerk. your walls flutter and pulse around him as you let go, creaming his dick just like you’ve wanted to all night long. you practically go limp in his arms, orgasm turning your entire body to jelly. 

he groans, both of his arms now around your middle as he uses you till he reaches his own high. he’s moaning out your name as he shoots his load into your battered cunt, his warmth overflowing inside of you. 

and when he draws out of you, still panting and on a high, he pulls your panties back over your cunt and stands you up straight.

you look breathless and dazed and he can’t help but grin at you.  

“now why don’t we go back downstairs and enjoy the lame party?”

© cheolhub — all rights reserved, please refrain from copying, reposting, modifying or translating my work on any platform.

[ecstasyhighway]

YOU & I | an ellie williams fanfic series

this is a fic that will be posted and mostly updated on wattpad @ecstasyhighway this ff is heavily based off of you the netflix show and inspired by a ff on here which i cannot remember who wrote it but if yk lmk so i can give proper credit.

there is not smut in this little part here but its a filthy ah fic that will become darker as it goes on.

MEN DNI - 16+ i fear (im 17 so if u feel uncomfortable reading from a minor who will be 18 at the end of the year then u dont have to read this i really dgaf.)

ch 1 ch 2

silly story and more ff info under the cut

Ellie had seen you walking around the music store she worked at... her attention automatically shifted from the customer in front of her to you. Your hair, your curves, your eyes. Everything about you was just...

"hello? did you hear me?" the woman raised her voice slightly to get her attention,

Ellie snapped out of her thoughts and focused on the clearly irritated woman in front of her.

"yea my bad, what was that..?"

The lady rolled her eyes and started asking questions about guitar lessons for her son or daughter or some shit, she wasnt really paying attention to the nonsense floating from her mouth.

"yeah, im not the one you go to about that, uhhh my buddy Jesse is in the back, he can help you"

"thanks" and with that, she headed towards the back, muttering words under her breath.

Ellie's attention quickly turned back towards you. She examines you closely. Watching you grab a vinyl from the shelf, Call Me If You Get Lost, is what you had grabbed. Ellie wants to walk over to you, and talk to you but shes scared. What if she says the wrong thing? What if she freaks you out? What if you think shes a weirdo.. She turns away to stop looking at you, her cheeks are red and shes shaking, she is just so nervous and she's not even planning on talking to you... She puts her face in her hands and begins to calm herself down.

"Hi! hello"

A voice chimes from behind her, she turns around and a lump forms in her throat.

Its... you.

———————————————————————————

YOU & I | ellie williams.

this is a DARK fanfic. Based heavily off of the show you on netflix and inspired by a fanfic I saw on tumblr. This story has adult themes, sexual themes, stalking, thoughts of killing (no actual killing just thoughts), themes of hate, ellie has slight mental issues (obv shes stalking) age gaps (only 3 years and they're adults). idgaf how old u are this is dark and you have been warned, i am not responsible for any type of reaction you may have to this as ive given you a warning. I will give warnings at the beginning of chapters that might be too dark. again you have been warned.

important - ellie might be a tad ooc, shy!ellie, switch!ellie if you squint. this is a lesbian ff.

MEN DNI I WILL FIND YOU.

reader is afab and 20

ellie is 23

modern au

jessie, dina, joel, tommy, maria, most of the main tlou cast is in this (not everyone will be mentioned or even really have a place in the story, just know they are present)

based in New York (obv)

i am not a professional writer, im simply a girl who writes shit when shes bored, do not expect me to have an upload schedule. I get drained v fast and i want to enjoy writing, its not a job with deadlines. so with that my grammar might be bad, spelling might be ass and if there is any math it will probably be wrong, it might be written in third, or first person i be fuckin up with that but yall will be fine.

YOU & I | ellie williams.

story created and written by @ecstasyhighway

tlou and the characters belongs to Neil Druckmann and Naughty Dog

the story of "YOU" belongs to Netflix

Story was ib by a ff i saw breifly but i don't remember who wrote it so, if yk pls lmk so i can give proper credit

THIS IS FICTION. DO NOT DO THIS SHIT IRL BRUH ITS ACTUALLY WEIRD ASF. AGAIN THIS IS PURELY FICTIONAL. thank yew

uhhhh yeah enjoy ig and i do appreciate any supportive criticism as i am not a professional writer and shit could just be wrong.

also im new to tumblr fanfic writing so yeah 😭.

[k-s-morgan]

hello!! Just did a reread of ATLWETD and I’m loving the dynamic between Tom and Harry so far. It’s kinda hilarious that Harry makes an impulsive decision to elaborately reimagine his and Tom’s backstory as a move, and then Tom goes ahead and tries to kill him in the next chapter before Harry changes his mind. Like, of course, Tom’s going to see Harry as a threat and as always Harry is going to weasel his way out of a near death experience. I can’t wait to see where these two are going to go from here and how the plots going to unravel as Harry’s secrets start to unfold. Speaking of Harry’s imaginative backstory, I wanted to hear what you would think would happen if Harry and Tom really did grow up together. I’ve read some Fanfics with this premise (Holly & Yew being one of my favorites) and most writers come to the conclusion that the two would be extremely close and Harry would ultimately have a positive influence on Tom overall. Based upon how you characterize your Tom and Harry, what do you think would most likely happen? Do you think it would mirror the story Harry made up in ATLWETD with them being close, but Tom making too many bad moves that lead to him becoming Voldemort or would it be similar to how Tom is in WHGTB with him being more mellowed out in terms of violence and desires to become a power-hungry dictator, but still makes morally dubious decisions when it comes to his relationship with Harry ? can’t wait to hear your thoughts and excited for the next updates ☺️

Hi! Thank you so much for your ask <3 I'm glad you're enjoying this story and the dynamic between Tom and Harry - the next chapter is my favorite one exactly because every single scene has them interacting, and I love it.

I love fics where Tom and Harry grow up together, and I adore Holly & Yew! Personally, the way I envision a dynamic like this, there are two most possible scenarios. The first one is close to WHGTB and what you described. Tom and Harry influencing one another since the beginning, with Tom turning out more balanced, having priorities other than 100% power, and going the path of becoming a Minister or something similar. Harry, in turn, would be less naive and noble, but he'd keep his core characteristics.

On the other hand, things could have had a darker twist, too. Canon Harry is lovely, but if he grew up alongside psychopathic and adoring Tom, in a dreary place surrounded by people who feared him - who knows what kind of person he could have become. Would he still be kind and righteous? Maybe. After all, his life with the Dursleys wasn't a walk in the park, and he still turned out to be a good person. But having Tom's attention and direct influence early on could be a big factor, so I can see Harry growing up more twisted, darker, and crueller. He'd still be stubborn, he'd have some set ideals, but he'd be colder, more selfish, more independent, and more accepting of Tom's scarier tendencies.

Either way, I'm sure that in both scenarios, he and Tom would be inseparable. Maybe Tom would see Harry as a threat and competitor at first, but he'd soon become greedy for his company, and his certainty of his own uniqueness would expand to include Harry in it.

[avsies123]

INTRO !!

HI!��🐛 my name is Ava-Kate OR Alina!! :) ⚠️ IM 14 !! I use any and all pronouns forever...... i'm genderqueer and aroacespec🍒i'm an infp and taurus !! hit more to read..moreeee...

Interests!!

-I'm hyperfixated on Scream 1996 🌙

-My special interests are RATS and ALEX G !!

-i like drawing, writing, anything musically involved, LP/CD/DVD+ collecting, gardening, baking, adventuring, decorating and being awesome 🧩

-i listen to A LOT of music. Here's a music alphabet ^3^ 🎶 Alex G🩵, Blink-182, Car Seat Headrest, Deadharrie, Elliott Smith, Frank Ocean, Green Day, Hole, Indigo De Souza, julie, Kitty Craft, Lalleshwari, Lush, Mount Eerie, Nirvana, Orchid Mantis, Pavement, Radiohead, Someone Still Loves You Boris Yeltsin, Tyler (,) The Creator, Vs Self, Wyatt Smith 🎹

-psychology, animals, philosophy, nature, photography, video games, horror 🌀

-RY!! (@loseractivities) he's my bff, AND HE ALSO LET ME USE HIS INTRO AS A TEMPLATE!!😎 i love you bro📼

Other

HELLO! Thank yew for reading☺️oh shucks you☺️oh you

-i play robloxxx.. @avsies123 is my user if u wanna be friends hehe..🍃

-discord n pinterest are @sandyhorse !!🪲

- i'm chill cool and. alright cut the chit chat FRIEND ME I WANT FRIENDS I WANT TO TALK ABOUT SCREAAAAMUH!!😣😛

DNI?! 😠

-incels 😛

-anti-palestine / pro-israel 😛

-who are we kidding guys. If you have the itching urge to call me a slur while reading this we're not gonna get along 😛

GOODBYE !!👊 fist bump