#that I have noticed it for a long time and it does irritate me when I see it but whatever lol

[poetryvampire]

painfully needy Rolan going into rut

Had this on the brain lately. I don't think it would take much to make Rolan an absolute mess but imagine how worse it would be when he's going into rut. Boy would snap so fast

Rolan x afab non-tiefling reader

Have some 🔥spicy🔥 musings

*this went longer than I wanted lol. But if you like it tell me if you want more 🧡

● Rolan had been doing this dance with you for months now. Both working at Sorcerous Sundries you saw each other regularly, even tried to work together as much as possible (not that he'd ever admit that). The banter, the playful mockery leading to not so subtle flirtation was easy until now.

● The conversations didn't flow like before. A joke about becoming a doe eyed scarcely dressed maiden -like the ones on the covers of those novels you so enjoy- suddenly lead his mind to wander. Any wisecrack replaced with the image of you gazing at him so lustfully. An image that stays with him for the rest of the day (and night).

● Lia and Cal are very vocal about his uptick in irritability. He tries to ignore them but they're not wrong. Ever little thing sets him off. He's frustrated at himself. For letting the feelings get so far without truely noticing. For being too proud or too embarrassed to act on them.

●He often forgets his words as his eyes lingered on your lips, your neck, your figure. More than once you caught him staring and to his surprise no offense was taken. Just a quizzical look, perhaps a soft smile that flooded his face with warmth.

●Rolan would have almost preferred you'd have met him with anger. Now the hope of you ran rampant through him. That if he was ever to give in he may be met with the embrace he so longed for. The need for you was growing by the day. He even took care to not stand to closely to you now. He coursed himself for it. How had he become so starved for affection that even the scent of you sprung his body to life.

●The wizard had spent many nights forced to take action if he was to ever find sleep. He'd be tangled in his sheets, hair wild, trusting violently into his own fist. He tries to keep his fantasies to more abstract forms of pleasure but as hard as he tries the vague shapes melt into crystal clear images of you. It would always be you around him like a vice that would push him over the edge.

● There were times he'd lose himself so throughly he'd cry out your name as he came. Embarrassed by this lack of control, Rolan told himself it was better to happen here than in front of you.

● Going into work that morning something felt off. Rolan's whole body felt extra sensitive, aching. The horrible thought finally struck him at midday. Was he going into rut? Now!? With such little warning? He calms himself. He's not certain after all.

● Until he's been paired with you to clean out and old study turned storage room. He's hyper aware of your scent. Its filling his lungs,making his knees weak. The room isn't exactly small but it's stuffed with stacks of books making moving around a problem. You're constantly having to squeeze (delightfully, terrifyingly) close to each other.

● Luckily you're busying yourself with the task at hand. Rolan prays you won't notice how red (red-er) his face is or the sizable bulge he's currently cloaking with a stack of books. The straining against his pants is almost painful. He's eyeing the door, anything to escape the heat building in his blood.

●His eyes fall back to you and all notions of making a run for it leave his mind. Along with everything else that isn't right in front of him. You looked a vision, standing on and old box body spread across the book self as you attempt to reach something on the top shelf. Not only was it a perfect view of your form, it reminded him of a pose one might see in an old painting.

●Suddenly the box wobbled threatening to send you falling backwards. Your scream was cut short as you felt Rolan catch you, arms wrap around your middle tightly pressing you to him. His face buried in your hair he couldn't help utter a deep groan. The wave of intoxicating aroma washing away his last bit of restraint.

●With ease he flips you around, pressing you into the shelf, a maon escaping your lips. Your hands came to his chest not to push him away but in a gentle caress.

●'Rolan? Please,' was hardly out on your mouth when they were swallowed by his lips. He kisses you like a drowning man breaking the water's surface. Madly, desperately as if any second you may be taken away for him. Hungrily he deepens the kiss and your lips part for him with ease, both of you relishing in the taste.

●It's only when you part for air he realizes he's been rocking his hips into you. An apology catches in his throat as you grind back against him. He's dizzy with lust, his own heartbeat pounding in his ears.

●His lips find your neck, kissing, sucking and biting. Trying his best not to break the skin. Your moans drive him on. His hands are frantic running all over you. Soon your hands lead his to the laces on your dress. He makes quick work of it.

●Rolan takes you in his arms again and lays you down on a near by table. A little too eager he tears your under things away completely. But to his awe you only laugh and spread yourself out for him to drink you in fully. You're a goddess in his eye and he intends to worship.

●Words spill senselessly from him as he lavishes you with his mouth. 'Fuck, Fuck! You're beautiful you're perfect. I need- God's, l need you I need you.' He hasn't the brain for elegance now. He's kissing you everywhere maoning words of love into your skin.

● As he makes it to your thighs he cannot help but bury is face between them. The sweet taste of your sex has him throbbing with out so much as a touch. He wants to make sure you're nice and ready for him. You're not a tiefling after all and he couldn't bare the thought of hurting you. It doesn't take long before you're dripping wet against his tongue as he slides wildly between attacking your entrance and your clit.

●You stifle a scream as an orgasm suddenly rips through you, your thighs shaking in his grasp. Youre still panting but you pull him away, drawing him closer to you. As you pull him into a soft kiss your hands unlace his pants (finally) freeing his erection. Though to hold him lightly his gasp is sharp. He's painfully hard; his head already glistening with precum.

●As he runs he length against your folds he tries to center himself. He doesn't want to be too rough or finish terribly fast. He wants to go slow but when he catches on your entrance he can't help but thrust into you, the relief of his agony so close. You tremble but encourage him on. His name quickly becoming a soft prayer on your lips.

●He's wrapped inside you now, almost all the way. The pleasure overwhelming him he opts for quicker shallow thrusts. He's taken aback by how vocal he is as more sweet lustful nothings spill from him. Rolan's control is fading fast. He's practically shaking, slamming himself into you losing whatever rhythm he had. The sight of your face contorting with pleasure is pushing him to his end. He can feel the hot pull in his gut. And suddenly something else as.

●A chill runs over him as he feels the swelling at the base of his cock. He grasps it and pulls out not wanting to subject you to something he didn't even take the time to explain. In part he's too late. He didn't fully knot but he still comes hard, spilling thick ropes all over your stomach and thighs. Fuck, you're beautiful like this.

● He blushes deeply and panics, apologizing over and over. He didn't want it to be like this. You run your fingers through his hair and kiss him gently. You don't know that much about teifling biology but Gods you wanted to learn. Rolan tries to believe you, that this wouldn't scare you off.

● He adjusted his pants, somehow still as uncomfortable as before. Perhaps it was the sight of you dressing. How you made no move to do away with his mess before you did. He could take you again easily. But not here.

● You convince him to claim illness and leave work early. To take time to rest. He agrees wanting to lock himself away from the world. And yet he also agrees to meet you that night. Then he'd have a more level head. A chance to explain himself and perhaps to hold you in his arms for longer.

Xoxo thanks for reading friends ❤️

[eirenical]

Hey, MLCB fandom. We've been bombarded with some amazing photoshoots today, and I've been losing my entire mind over them all day, so GUESS WHAT. You all get to suffer with me.

For reference, the photoshoots and edits that inspired this post: [Cheng Yi in white] [BTS video of Cheng Yi in white, starring the photographer arm that sent this whole thing down a difanghua path instead of just a fanghua path] [@difeisheng 's edit/compilation of Cheng Yi and Zeng Shunxi's parallel photoshoots] [@la-muerta's edit of the photographer arm that made that vision a reality]

I don't have extensive context for all of this, but Di Feisheng, Fang Duobing, and Li LIanhua have gone to an event of some kind.  Maybe it's Di Feisheng' gallery opening.  Maybe it's Fang Duobing unveiling a new invention at a huge conference.  It doesn't matter.  What matters is that they all go, and they all have to get dressed up, and the event lasts all evening and long into the night and they don't make it home until well after dawn.

They get home and Fang Duobing has been in these clothes for far too long now and he desperately needs to get out of them and shower off the excitement of the night.  There's too much of a buzz under his skin and he's been talking everyone's ears off the entire ride home and he's losing patience with himself, so surely the others must be losing patience with him as well.  He needs a chance to let the buzz of energy die down a little bit before he irritates the others past the point of being able to deal with it, so he heads off to the giant bathroom to do just that.

Li Lianhua is quiet.  Mellow.  He didn't get drunk, per se, but he's somewhere in the slightly buzzed vicinity; enough that he's floppy and tired and half in love with the world and just wants to be petted and held, something he'd gotten plenty of on the drive home, but he still wants more.

(If pushed, he might admit that he doesn't handle crowds well, that he hasn't done since his days as a child prodigy fell far behind him.  Crowds do nothing but intimidate him now, bring back memories he'd rather leave far in the past, but he wants to support his partners, even if he has to blur the world a little to get through doing it.)

Di Feisheng has been rigidly well-behaved and contained all night and remains so even after they get home.  He has his own childhood traumas and handles crowds as well as Li Lianhua does.  He doesn't appreciate being touched by strangers, even accidentally, but crowds are a necessity in his line of work, sometimes, and there's nothing to be done for it. Now that he's home, he should be able to relax, but he can't.  He won't be able to until the hypervigilance fades.  So, he doesn't really want to be alone, but his choices… he could join Fang Duobing, let that inane chatter wash over him along with the water from a hot shower, to take the edge off his nerves.  But he doesn't want to be naked right now, doesn't want to be that vulnerable until his he's no longer twitching at every errant sound. So he stays with Li Lianhua.  To make sure he doesn't do something stupid while impaired.  It wouldn't be the first time.

But Li Lianhua is just... wandering around the room.  He's wandering around the room and slowly undoing the buttons at his cuffs… his neck… all the way down his chest to reveal the half-sheer singlet underneath.  He's wandering the room, undoing his clothes and gently touching things like it's the first time he's ever seen them, in spite of having lived in this room already for nearly three years.

And something about that soft wonder on his face relaxes something in Di Feisheng, finally releases him from the coil of tension he's been wound around all night.  So he does what he always does when a moment means something more than it should.  He pulls out his camera and begins taking pictures.

Li Lianhua notices, of course, and his gentle meanderings start to become a little bit of a performance.  Not a true dance, he hasn't done that in years, not since—  Di Feisheng cuts off the thought before he can dwell on it for too long.  They'd both lost too much in the accident that had ended Li Xiangyi's career and turned Di Feisheng into a fugitive for a decade.  Tonight isn't about them.  It isn't about that.  It was about their Xiaobao's accomplishments, about realizing the dream they'd helped him bring to fruition together.  And right now, it's about Li Lianhua, and a dance that isn't a dance.  Here in this room is the one place Li Lianhua allows a spectre of his former self to rise, allows himself to enjoy being noticed, being watched.  Because it's them.  Because he enjoys when the two of them watch him, focus on him, blocking out everything else but the safety of the space they've carved out here together.

And so, Di Feisheng takes picture after picture: Li Lianhua at the window, staring out into the garden, Li Lianhua in the hallway, hand settled gracefully on the railing as though at a barre, Li Lianhua in bed, rolling around and rumpling up the sheets, half asleep already the moment he's supine among the blankets and pillows. 

And he sends each one of those pictures to Fang Duobing.

Even Li Lianhua manages to take one very shaky selfie of himself sprawled in their bed, rumpled and bleary-eyed and barely awake.  Di Feisheng sends that one, too.

It isn't more than a minute later when Fang Duobing comes sprinting down the hall, clad in nothing but his boxers, wet hair half in his face, as droplets of water drip down his chest.  He's holding his phone in front of himself like a talisman, eyes narrowed accusingly at Di Feisheng.

Di Feisheng simply smiles and slides onto the bed to pull Li Lianhua into his arms for a kiss.  By the time it's over, Li Lianhua is draped half in his lap and whimpering, pulling at the sleeves of his shirt as he tries to peel it off and mold himself around Di Feisheng's body at the same time.

Di Feishing looks back up… and smiles wider.  "I didn't want to you miss the show."

Moments later, he has a armful of very wet Fang Doubing toppling them all over into the blankets.

It's undignified.  It's clumsy.  It's ridiculous in so many ways—more giggling fits of laughter than moans of pleasure.  And Di Feisheng wouldn't trade it for anything.

[lieutenant-amuel]

It’s so funny how people usually wonder about how writing long chapters, while I start having my eye twitched when I see a 6k words count and realize I’m still far away from finishing.

How do you all write short stories tell me your secrets.

[seungmoes]

.

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ BURNER ACCOUNTS — GOJO SATORU.

contents. fem! reader, loser ex-boyfriend! satoru, exes to lovers, college! au, satoru making burners to watch your stories, miscommunications—satoru is not perfect but he’s trying okay?, gossip icons shoko & suguru <3, i had a silly idea and it turned into 2.6k words my bad

there’s a peculiar account watching your instagram stories—@user273582838, to be exact. you don’t think it’s a very well timed coincidence seeing as you and satoru have just broken up—so you decide to do some digging. 

which of course, means enlisting the help of shoko.

“i think satoru is stalking me,” you mumble, making her pause in the middle of sipping on her energy drink—for a med student, her habits don’t seem every healthy. this is her third one of the day.

“okay,” she nods, “i wouldn’t put it past him, but what makes you say that?”

“look,” you turn your phone to face her, the blank, anonymous instagram account right there on the list of users who have viewed your story. she crinkles her brows, blinking for a moment before humming.

“that definitely seems like something he’d do,” she nods—and then, “i have an idea.”

“okay,” you brighten, nodding enthusiastically, “what’s the plan?”

“try and log in with that user.”

“shoko,” you look at her like she’s grown two heads. maybe the lack of sleep is finally getting to her—no amount of energy drinks can save her at this point. “we don’t have the password—”

“—and that, dummy,” she rolls her eyes, making you scowl at the name, “is why we click forgot my password and see the last four digits of the phone number that registered the account. if it’s satoru’s number, we’ll know.”

okay—you take it back. shoko is a genius and a full-blown brilliant mastermind that you could never hope to come close to. you’re glad you chose her to help—you’re even more glad she agreed because you would not have thought of that. this is fantastic. a fool-proof plan. 

you grin wide, eyes lighting up as you gasp, “shoko! you’re so smart, that’s a great idea!”

“i know,” she grumbles, “took you long enough to notice.”

ignoring her, you quickly pull out your phone and try to log onto the account, typing user273582838 into the username box and clicking forgot my password. shoko is hovering over your shoulder, and your breath is held as you wait for the page to load and the number to pop up. within just a few seconds, the first few digits are censored with asterisks, but the last four show, and—

yeah. it’s satoru’s fucking number. just as you suspected—you and shoko scoff together at the same time, rolling your eyes. 

“well,” you look at her, lips pursed in irritation—of course, satoru refuses to give you space and leave you alone after your break up (which was his fault, might you add), “what now?”

“send the verification code to his number,” she presses, “it’ll definitely spook him when he sees.”

she’s so good at what she does, you think in awe, staring at her with heart-eyes. nodding quickly, you press send code. 

hopefully, that’ll give satoru the heart attack you want it to.

———

satoru stares at his screen in abject horror—who could be trying to log into his burner account? the only person who should possibly stumble across it is you, but surely you’re not closely inspecting your story viewers, are you? so then, who could be trying to log onto the instagram account of @user273582838?

“suguru,” he says in a trance, “are you trying to log onto the burner?”

“are you bringing that shit up again?” suguru grumbles, controller in hand as he pays attention to the screen, “i told you that was a stupid idea. a pathetic one too—”

“well, i didn’t want to keep waiting for you to send screenshots to see the stories—”

“you’re a fucking loser, do you know that? pathetic,” suguru reiterates. “move on.”

“no,” satoru hisses in disbelief, “why would i do that? now, was that you or not? you’re the only other person who knows the user.”

“as if i care to log onto your loser burner account,” suguru snorts, shaking his head in amusement. he beats satoru’s high score, turning to give him a sly grin as he adds, “i wasn’t removed, so i can view the stories all i want.”

“you’re a jerk, you know that?” satoru grunts, crossing his arms and pouting, “i’m having the worst heartbreak of my life, and you—”

“who’s fault is it that you’re dumped?”

satoru deflates. 

okay, so he supposedly hasn’t been the best boyfriend. it’s not that satoru isn’t helplessly committed to you—he’s so sickeningly obsessed with you, it’s actually a bit unhealthy. suguru says so, at least. but satoru is…well, satoru, and he doesn’t always seem to take things as seriously as most people would hope. 

evidently, that includes your relationship—though, he does insist on disagreeing on that. according to you, he doesn’t take you on dates often enough, and sometimes he flirts back with random strangers. that’s not true—he’s simply a bit of a tease and enjoys it when you’re jealous, but he doesn’t flirt back. that’s outrageous. you’ve even claimed he’s mean about it and makes a joke out of it all—satoru would never be mean on purpose; he only teases because the banter is always endearing. 

but, unfortunately, you don’t seem to see it the way he does, and now he’s woefully single and cold and alone in bed. no cuddles, no goodnight kisses, and no head scratches. 

life is so cruel sometimes. 

“suguru,” he says in distress, “i’m serious. someone’s trying to hack my burner—who could it be?”

“hmm, i don’t know…maybe the one and only person who would notice the account in the first place?”

“but why try and log in if the password is unknown?”

suguru looks at satoru like he’s stupid—apparently, he is because he’s not putting two and two together. 

“maybe because sending a verification code shows the last four digits of the registered phone number? you’ve probably been caught, you idiot.”

satoru pales at that—he didn’t think about that. it slipped his mind completely. fuck, he should’ve used a burner email instead. he stares down at his phone numbly—yeah, he thinks, he’s screwed. 

———

after two days of continuous log in attempts into satoru’s burner account—it’s only just to spook him extra—you finally decide to confront him. 

we need to talk. is all you send him. 

the three bubbles appear on his end multiple times before disappearing—you and shoko get a good cackle out of that and laugh at him for a bit before he finally answers. 

miss me already? knew it ;)

wow. what a dickhead. 

so, because you can be equally as much of a prick, you send him a screenshot of his phone number on the log in page followed by a message that says: no. it’s so you can explain this. 

the three dots show up again for a few minutes before he finally responds with: okay. you caught me. when do you wanna meet?

well, that was easy. satoru is the type to not go down without a fight no matter how cornered he is—he’s stubborn and annoying like that. you turn to shoko for help.

“meet him now,” shoko crosses her arms, “don’t give him time to come up with some ridiculous excuse.”

“what excuse could he possibly come up with?” you snort, “that he was possessed and the evil spirit in his mind made him stalk his ex like a loser?”

“true,” she concedes, taking a sip from her energy drink—seriously, how many of these does this girl drink in a day? “i just want to know what happens,” she shrugs, “so do it now.”

of course, as on brand as ever, shoko is merely in it for the drama. you roll your eyes before sighing and nodding. 

“okay,” you huff. 

meet me at my place. now.

on my way, he sends back almost instantly. 

“he’s probably just excited to see you,” shoko snorts, “like the loser he is.”

“you’re probably right,” you purse your lips in exasperation. in all your time knowing him, you’ve definitely realized that satoru is definitely…well, a case. 

———

“hey,” shoko whispers to suguru through the phone, walking out your door so you can prepare to confront satoru. “did you know satoru’s been stalking—”

“—on a burner account? yeah, i know.”

okay, she frowns to herself, that was no fun at all. suguru is already aware of the drama. but that’s no matter—surely, he can’t possibly already know that satoru has been invited over to be scolded. 

“yeah, well,” she says smugly, “did you know he’s actually on his way over to—”

“—get yelled at? yeah, i’m aware. he called me panicked. what a fucking loser.”

“okay, well since you’re up to speed,” shoko grumbles bitterly, rolling her eyes. she was supposed to be the knight in shining armor with the juicy updates—but evidently, satoru is pathetic enough to already cry to suguru about his dilemma. “wanna meet up and get sushi nearby? i bet they’ll get back together in twenty minutes.”

“i bet ten. loser pays for the food?”

“you’ve got yourself a deal.”

———

satoru sits on your couch in shame, bouncing his leg nervously as you sit on the opposite end with your arms crossed and brow raised. 

it’s quiet. he doesn’t have the guts to say anything, waiting for you to break the silence. maybe you’re not that mad.

“so,” you start, “it’s nice to finally meet you, user273582838.”

he rubs his neck awkwardly, chuckling through his nerves as he mumbles, “oh, hey there! it’s a small world, huh?”

“satoru.”

yeah, never mind. you seem pretty mad. 

“okay, look,” he begins, “you can’t blame me. you dumped me, your sweet, loving, and unsuspecting boyfriend out of nowhere! i was heartbroken and shattered—and then you didn’t even give me a chance to work it out! i was not in the right headspace to make wise decisions so…so this is basically not my fault.”

that doesn’t seem to help his case—in fact, it only makes it worse. 

“so it’s my fault?”

“wha—no!” he says quickly, “no, definitely not.”

you sigh, rubbing your forehead in defeat as you mumble, “satoru, we are broken up for a reason. you can’t overstep and—”

“it’s a pretty stupid reason,” he grumbles under his breath, crossing his arms and frowning. you glare at him from the side as you scoff in disbelief. 

“of course,” you chuckle dryly, “of course you would say that. nothing is ever serious enough to you—”

“it’s pretty fucking serious to me,” he spits, shooting you a look that tells you he’s just as shocked as you, “that’s obviously why i’m the one who’s still not moved on as easily as you. how seriously did you really take it?”

“that’s not fair,” you grit, “you made it abundantly clear you didn’t care enough, so why should i—”

“i fucking cared a shit ton,” he says incredulously, “that’s bullshit, and you know it—”

“don’t curse at me, satoru—”

“well, don’t accuse me of not caring when i clearly—”

“oh, yeah cause you cared so much when you were laughing with that waitress as she hit on you,” you seethe, throwing a pillow from your couch at him. he can catch it easily—you know this for sure, but he lets it hit him out of what you’re sure is at least a little consideration to your feelings. 

“i wasn’t laughing because i enjoyed it,” he crinkles his brows as if you’ve said the most ridiculous thing ever, “it was just funny because she was trying so hard. and you looked all cute when you got mad.”

“what kind of boyfriend enjoys watching his girlfriend get mad—”

“the kind of boyfriend who thinks his girlfriend is adorable when she’s mad—”

“yeah, well your idea of a date is going to the mall with shoko and suguru. what kind of date is that—”

“okay, i was a bit clueless sometimes, but you could’ve said something instead of just dumping me like i was some random guy in your dm’s—”

“you need to grow the fuck up, satoru—”

“now look at who's cursing!”

it’s silent—both you and him have your arms crossed and lips curled into scowls as you both glare at each other. you’re stubbornly convinced satoru doesn’t care as much as you do, and he’s firmly committed to the idea that you’re twisting him into some douche who doesn’t give two shits. 

it’s quiet like that for a bit before he deflates and slumps against the couch, rubbing his face as he groans. 

“look,” he starts, “i’m sorry. i never meant to make it seem like i enjoy attention from other girls, and i didn’t realize you wanted more dates. i’d have done things differently if you told me how you felt.”

he sounds sincere. and he’s looking at you with those eyes of his—god, those stupid little eyes that are so wide and blue and deep and full of love. even after that whole argument, satoru is clearly as painfully in love as ever. 

you sigh before playing with a loose thread on your sweatpants. 

“i…guess i could’ve talked it out first. i probably shouldn’t have skipped straight to breaking up,” you mutter, not meeting his eyes. 

satoru stares glumly at you from the corner of his eyes before he adds bitterly, “you don’t seem to miss me. not even a little.”

“toru,” you pinch your nose, “of course i miss you. i was not gonna be mopey on instagram, though—”

“doesn’t seem like it,” he huffs. he’s a bit hurt—you can tell because he’s not meeting your eyes, and he’s not got that playful little upward curl of his lips. 

you’re a bit weak, you realize—but you suppose you always have been for satoru, because you’re shuffling to his end of the couch and poking his cheek gently. 

“i miss you tons, y’know,” you murmur—you smile a little at his pout before adding, “i want more dates this time around. and stop letting girls get away with being shameless flirts.”

he finally meets your eyes—it’s like a child on christmas, the way his face lights up and his lips curl into an excited grin.

“you mean i get to be your boyfriend again?”

it’s cute—the way he asks to be your boyfriend and not if you’ll be his girlfriend. maybe you’ve been a bit unfair, maybe satoru has always cared deeply in his dumb little clueless way of his own. 

“fine,” you pretend to roll your eyes. he looks hopelessly excited as he wraps an arm around you and pulls you into his side, tucking you under his chin as he rests his cheek on your head. 

“you should really talk to me more,” he murmurs, “i’m…things fly over my head sometimes. i’m sorry.”

“i’m sorry too,” you admit, “i’ll talk to you—but you better listen to me if i do. don’t turn it into jokes.”

“i never turn things into jokes,” he grumbles petulantly, huffing to the side as you shoot him an unimpressed raise of your brow. “does this mean i can follow you again?”

“yes,” you snort.

“and you’ll follow back, right?”

“yes, satoru,” you sigh, shaking your head in amusement. he’s already back to being a handful—but you can admit you might have missed it just a bit. “but for the love of god, please delete that burner.”

“fine,” he pouts, tugging you closer. 

you giggle, he grins, and then you’re kissing—and everything feels as it should be. 

———

“they’re back together,” shoko says in disbelief, staring at your text. suguru groans, pausing mid bite as he rubs over his forehead in defeat. 

of course, you and satoru just have to make up in exactly fifteen minutes. not ten. not twenty. exactly fifteen. 

how considerate of you both. 

“are you kidding?” suguru grumbles, “so neither of us win.”

“guess not,” she says sourly, rolling her eyes. 

woefully, they both agree to split the check. 

suguru and shoko are so me and my friend every time our other friend argues with her boyfriend we deadass be making bets over when they make up and loser has to pay for boba LMAO

[eroselless]

UNDERNEATH YOUR CLOTHES

summary => Request: Could you write a one-shot about Charles’ girlfriend wearing one his Ferrari jerseys or like his merch w his name on it and he fucks her with it on? [2.1k]

[charles leclerc x reader]

warnings: 18+ for explicit language and smut 

note: I’ve had this request in my inbox for so long and I’ve been absolutely itching to get this out. I’m such a sucker for friends to lovers so I changed it a bit to fit with the idea that I ended up rolling with.

School’s out until July so if anyone has anything they want written, send it in :) Hope you guys enjoy this first Charles request! 

You groan at the sound of urgent knocking at your door. Groggily, you pull yourself from your bed and make your way to the door. You don’t bother switching on the lights, neon signs from outside streaming light through your half-closed blinds, making patterns on the carpeted floor. The digital clock above the stove reads 3.27 am. You peek through the peephole, your eyebrows furrowing at the sight of Charles, shifting from one foot to the other. You swing the door open, a yawn pulling your jaw open. You squint at him, the light becoming too much for your eyes.

“Charlie, what the fuck?” you question as Charles rubs the back of his neck. His hair is dishevelled and his cheeks are a light shade of pink. 

“I, uh, I lost my keys and my phone while I was out and I can’t get into my apartment,” He explains sheepishly. You sigh, shaking your head in mild irritation. You step aside to let him in.

“You owe me big time for waking me up at this ungodly hour.” You state, trailing behind him after locking the door. He chuckles a soft ‘of course, chérie’ before heading into your room. He makes a beeline for your closet, grabbing a pair of sweatpants off of his designated shelf. He pulls them on before reaching back and tugging off his shirt. 

“How exactly did you manage to lose both your keys and your phone in one night?" you call from outside, a hint of amusement in your voice. He shakes his head. "Long story," He replies vaguely. 

He makes his way out, switching on a floor lamp by your bed. His eyes are on you as you collapse on the bed with an exasperated sigh. You roll away from him, facing towards the opposite side of the room. You pull the sheet up to your chest, making sure to keep some for him when he tucks himself next to you. His gaze trails over your figure in the dim light, eyes catching the big 16 and Leclerc written across the back of your oversized, overworn t-shirt. He cocks his head to the side, blinking a few times, a smirk playing on his lips. 

“Are you sleeping in my race shirt?” He teases, not having noticed it earlier. You turn at the sound of his voice, letting out a sleep mhmm. Your eyes are heavy, threatening to pull you quickly back into a deep sleep. The look you share is charged with something that makes you grow warm. A familiar feeling blooms in your tummy, a feeling not typically felt towards your best friend. He narrows his eyes at you and you can see a fire beginning to build in his cerulean eyes. He stares at your body, probably longer than he should.

You’re the image of a goddess as you lay on your back innocently, hair sprawled around you, almost like a halo. He can’t help but admire the red fabric against your skin or how it clung to every curve of your body. He can see the dark material of your underwear, poking out slightly from under the t-shirt. His eyes settle on the valley between your breasts and how your nipples have pebbled against the cold air. 

A shiver runs through him as he tears his gaze away from you. He rubs at his arms, turning away from you as he does. He clears his throat, setting his watch and wallet on your bedside table.

“Are you cold at all? Do you need another blanket?” 

You mumble a quiet no, reaching a hand across the bed. He watches as you make a grabby motion with your hand, beckoning into bed. He hesitates for a moment, suddenly self-conscious of what he is wearing, or rather, lack thereof. His pants are hung low on his hips and his shirt lays on the floor by your dresser. He bites his lip as he slips in next to you. His eyes widen slightly as you grab his arm, pulling him into you. It’s not like this was an odd occurrence, having years of comfort between each other. But his mind always seemed to wander, wondering how you’d feel without the barrier of clothes between you. He adored how you proudly wore HIS name in support during races. Here, the red fabric of your shirt contrasts with the white of your sheets, it feels so much more intimate. He couldn’t get the image of how good you looked with your back to him, his name sitting between your shoulder blades. 

You can feel him tense up as you settle under him, his head lying on your chest. The shirt is thin enough that he can feel the goosebumps blooming across your skin as the cold air drifts through the sheets. He has to stop himself from letting his hands (and his mouth) wander over the fabric of the shirt. 

It seems to him like you’re drifting back into sleep as he lays wide awake. He feels your hands wander over the large expanse of his back, your touch sending goosebumps down his spine. Your fingers take their time feeling over every mole and scar littered over his skin. You knead his thick muscles, a rumble escaping Charles’s lips as you dip your fingers in every dip and hill. His breath is hot on your skin as he shoves his head in the crook of your neck. 

Your eyes don’t feel as heavy when your hands find their way closer to the waistband of his pants. They settle there for a moment before you decide to slip a finger under it, pulling at it and releasing it. It snaps against his skin, a yelp escaping him. 

He lets out a laugh, quick fingers poking at your side. You thrash under him, howls of laughter bouncing off the walls. He blows raspberries into the thin skin of your neck, only causing you to squirm further. 

The energy slips from the room as you both stop to catch your breath. He’s suspended over you, supporting himself with his arms on either side of your head. The fire you’d seen earlier burns in his eyes as he looks down at you. It burns at the line you’re both afraid to step over, knowing full well that if it burns it away completely, there’ll be no going back. His eyes are locked on yours. They’re dark, their usual blue now as dark as a storming sea. Your eyes trace over the curve of his cupid’s bow and flicker up to his eyes once again. 

The warmth in your lower belly returns as he leans down and presses a tantalizingly slow kiss on your jaw. His hand cups the back of your thighs and you're suddenly hyperaware of the thin and increasingly wet fabric of your underwear. You let out a quick breath as he drags his lips over the column of your neck. The hand that isn’t supporting him slides up your body and under your shirt, gently grazing at your ribcage. You slip a hand away from his body, meeting his under your t-shirt. Sliding it higher, you bring his hand up to your breast. His fingers pinch teasingly at your puffed-up nipples, pulling a whine from your lips. 

“Charles…” you moan out, eyes opening and meeting his as he pulls away. Your eyes meet, the room going quiet again. 

In an instant, his mouth is on yours, tongue swirling with yours. You can taste hints of tequila on his tongue, no doubt the reason why he lost his keys and phone. He moves to sit on his heels and you follow his lips, already intoxicated with them. 

His arm wraps around you, pulling you snugly onto his lap as he settles at the head of the bed. The bulge in his pants is pressed deliciously against your crotch. You let out a gasp as he grips tight onto your hips, moving you over his hard-on. 

“You look so pretty in Ferrari red,” he murmurs, teeth nipping lightly at your neck. The pads of your fingers dig into his shoulders, holding onto him like a lifeline. A smile tugs softly at your lips. 

He hesitates as his fingers drop to the waistband of your underwear. He fiddles slightly with the fabric, mimicking what you had done earlier and snapping it gently over your skin. You felt a gasp get pulled from your chest as his hands began to move under the fabric, pressing into the bundle of nerves at your very center. Your voice comes out in broken fragments:

”Charlie, please…” you beg.

You don’t quite know what you're asking for. For so long, you’d unconsciously ached for him. Your own fingers would find their way into your underwear and with your eyes squeezed shut, you’d try to imagine that they were his. His touch now feels almost overwhelming. You crave the weight of his body pressing you down, the rough pads of his fingers dragging over your most sensitive parts —

“Fuck,” he cries out, hips bucking up into yours. He squeezes at your breast, biting at your nipple over the fabric. You go to pull the shirt off, needing to feel his lips on your skin when he stops you, eyes hazy and glazed over with lust.

“No,” he says shaking his head. “Leave it on.” his fingers now travel downwards, pressing at your clit through your wet panties. You take in a sharp breath, head falling back. He circles it, thumb and pointer finger pinching at it slightly. 

“Need more,” you slur. He meets your gaze, a soft pink adorning his cheeks.

“Need my cock, mon coeur?” You nod instantly. You go up on your knees, giving him the chance to pull his sweatpants just enough to free his cock. It taps gently at your stomach, precum already beading at its tip. You draw your finger over its slit, a thin sting appearing as you pull away. Charles lets out a groan under you, eyes swimming with desire.

You climb off quickly, pulling off your panties and dropping them to the floor. Charles can’t take his eyes off of you as you swing a leg over his lap, his hands going to take hold of your thighs. His eyes float to where your grab him and bottom out on his cock. The squeeze you give him is so much better than he had anticipated. His mouth falls open as you take him in fully, he can’t believe he’s gone this long without ever feeling you all around him. You grind your hips against his, setting a rhythm. 

“t’es une si bonne fille, tu me prends tout entier,” he groans. such a good girl, taking all of me. His hands feel like they have nowhere to go but to the globes of your tits as they bounce deliciously in front of him. He pulls at the hem of your shirt, twisting it and pulling it up. Your tits burst out from under the fabric, nipples pebbling at the cold breeze in the air. He wraps his lips around them, teeth teasing them gently. Your back arches at the feeling, only pressing them further into his face. He was hooked how the fabric of the shirt ripples over your chest and the taste of your skin on his tongue.

“P-putain..” he whimpers, coming up for air. He lets out grunt as he plants his feet on the bed, lifting his hips fucking into you with force. Your lips part as the sound of skin slapping against skin reverberates through the room. His hands go to your ass, fingers digging into the suple flesh as he rocks you against him. Your hands take refuge on his chest, gasping as he hits your sweet spot. You feel so full with him as he continues to move at a steady pace. 

He brings his lips up to yours, groaning softly against your panting lips. It only spurrs you further, circling your hips to meet his as he continued to rutting his hips up into you. You can feel your orgasm nearing, a wave of pleasure coming over you. It envelops you, suffocating you as it crashes down. 

Charles can’t hold it any longer, lifting you off of him as strings of cum spill from his cock, coating his stomach. You sit on his thighs, just beyond the reach of the spurts. He looks incredible, cheeks red, lips swollen, chest heaving. You feel like you’re under a spell as you drag a finger through the warm cum on his stomach and tuck it between your lips. His eyes seem to sparkle, a new flame appearing suddenly in them.

“Can we go again?” his voice cuts through the suddenly silence in the room. With an innocent meeting of eyes, there is only one response that can escape you lips. There’s a grin playing on your lips, finger still caught between your teeth. An astounding answer echoes through the room with no words spoken, it has the two of you tossing around the sheets until the sun comes up. You’re gonna have to wear his name more often.

[worldsover]

Well, Now What?

20.5k words

You are dating Ryujin; it's tough making a relationship with an idol work, but you have your own… unique ways of handling it, featuring quite a few other idols. When your friend and ex Karina gets wrapped up in a dating scandal with your fellow actor, you're put in a tough spot between them.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

"Well, now what?"

No response to your question. Your living room is bathed in a cold, sterile light, streetlamps against the windows. There sits man of the hour, Lae Jaewook. Cans of beer line your coffee table, and the conversation you're holding with him feels like a scene in more of a low-budget show, maybe one of those YouTube web series, and there's no way that YouTube money could afford a cast with you and Jaewook in it. His face, all rough lines and handsome features, is clear and void.

"I mean, if you're not gonna call her…" You gesture vaguely around your empty room, not wanting to have to spell it out.

Irritation cracks his strong features, and Jaewook counters your frustration with even more stubbornness. The sky-high cheekbones, the crinkled eyes, he'd be an intimidating force, heavy waves rumbling in the distance, if you didn't know him so well. "Come on, you think I don't have the sense to call her?" He scoffs. You want to nod, want to laugh, but keep both to yourself for now. "No, it's your fault."

"Oh?"

"You're keeping me hostage here like some kind of bad cop," he says as he points toward the empty cans on the table.

Put your hands up. (Weren't you supposed to be the cop? He has the gaze of a severe statesman whose withering off-hand remarks might flatten a country, even if when he talks, it's a lot less dire.) "Alright man," you say, "if you wanna leave, you can leave. Good luck with Dispatch."

Your words hit the target, raising Jaewook from his seat. He walks toward you and places his hand on your shoulder, and the two of you make eye contact, tense energy snapping through the air; it releases like that, and you both laugh.

"I'm not going anywhere yet," he says. "Too late for that." You can see the regret in his choice of company for the night. You can imagine one other person he'd rather see in the moment. You get it. "This whole thing is just…"

"Yeah, crazy." You nod solemnly, empathetically. You know this, all the thoughts going through his head, lived through the worries yourself. Living through them now, still. You reach over and grab the last unopened can of beer. After a long sip, you notice Jaewook, a statue. You'd usually laugh when he gets that serious.

His expression softens. "How does it work? The whole… dating an idol thing. You know that's why I called in the first place."

You motion toward the TV symbolically, its screen black but text implied what it would be if powered on. "Well, clear all that shit up, first of all."

"What?"

"You said it was just flirting, you weren't at dating yet."

"Well, yeah, I've asked her out on dates."

"So it's one of those."

He sighs and shakes his head. "She's already been to my house like four times, I think."

You stretch out your hand to give him a fist bump. "Nice."

"Don't be stupid, you know it's not like that. Where the fuck else..."

You smirk and retract your arm. "I'm just fucking with you, man. Trust me, if anyone knows how the system works, it's me."

Jaewook purses his lips. "Right." He sits back down on the couch with a tired thud that makes the old cushions sink. "This is all so stupid." His voice is a mumble as if speaking only to himself.

You gulp down beer. "Again, trust me. I know." You're not a serious kind of person, but you're sure he recognizes the honesty in your voice. "Anyway, you better get on that shit. If there's only person that matters..." Once more, you have a sudden, uncharacteristic sincerity about you. When you and Jaewook and Chaemin and the rest of the guys hang out, it's always fun and games, and no time to dig deeper, talk about anything that matters. It's different here. Call it matching the dim atmosphere of the night. "You know the headlines are saying it was love at first sight."

Jaewook waves a dismissive hand. "Aish, I don't care about comments."

"That's not the point. Does she know?"

He thinks for a moment. "Shit."

It's your turn to pat his shoulder. Almost like looking into a mirror.

Jaewook looks more determined than defeated, looking at his phone on the table. (It's a ghost town; he's completely silenced the device because otherwise, it'd be like hanging out with a flashbang in the middle of the room. Now the grenade's just an elephant.) "I'll get right on it. I need to think about what to say, though."

Pat him once more before leaning away.

"But anyway," he says, "that's not what I was asking about. It was more about the idol thing than the dating."

Another sip to think."I see... how do I put this? Imagine trying to date the Mona Lisa."

Jaewook spits out his drink. "What? You're always full of shit."

"I'm being serious! Dating an idol is like robbing a work of art. You have ten security cameras and eight panes of glass between you and the actual painting."

Jaewook's eyes narrow as he considers your analogy. He laughs to himself. "Got it. I didn't know you could be so smart."

"Pft, you know what, I am kicking you out for that—"

"Wait, wait, sorry, I didn't mean it like that. Actually, keep talking."

"Okay," you start again. "Well... If you're an idiot, you'd only see the walls and the cameras. You'd think you're building a relationship, but really, all you're doing is running into more roadblocks, being paranoid, until one day, you'll trip a trip wire, and, ping pang, those eight panes of glass are gone, and the alarms are gonna ring in your ears and all those security guards are gonna drag you out and you'll never be allowed to even see the Mona Lisa anymore."

"Hah, okay. Wow. I thought I was drunk," Jaewook replies, grinning. "Are you okay?"

You clap him on the back and take a swig of beer. "Okay? Bro, I'm doing more than okay. I guess that was just the first time for me."

"So you're saying you've dated more than one idol?"

If only he knew. You sidestep the question. "Ryujin and I are plenty happy," you say with finality. "But that's not the point. I guess you could say she let me see past the walls. Not the cameras—we do know the cameras are still there, but we can't do anything about them anyway, right?"

Jaewook sits back down. "Never mind. I don't know why I came to you for advice," he mutters. "You're clearly insane."

The two of you talk for the rest of the night, mostly about inconsequential matters, like how Jaewook still keeps in touch with his other costars, Minhyun, Somin, and Kiyong, or how Jaewook has been practicing guitar lately. The delivery driver at your door with a bag of chicken asks if you’re that actor, then follows up with asking if you’re that actor who’s friends with Lee Jaewook, then follows that up with asking if you’re that actor who’s friends with Lee Jaewook who’s the thief dating Karina; he just read that on the news—you laugh it off. Over chicken, you share your excitement with Jaewook about debuting as a lead in your own drama.

But amidst all the casual chatter, the question lingers in the air like a persistent itch.

"How do you make it work?"

✦✧✦✧✦✧

"Well, now what?"

You lie in Arin's bed, your arm draped around her warm, perspiring body. The soft glow of dawn casts a faint light on her nude form, revealing the flush of red marks and handprints that decorate her exposed skin. As you steal a glance at her, a mischievous smirk plays on her lips, and her bare back becomes a canvas for your wandering finger. The room is dimly lit, allowing only glimpses of the intimate details of her body, while everything else fades into obscurity.

"What do you mean, Oppa?" Arin responds, then turns to face you. Her eyes gleam with curious desire. Her ass, on full display before you, holds a magnetic allure, enticing you like a loose thread begging to be pulled. Reddened further. Made into your fucking handles. Your finger, more delicately than your wanton thoughts, traces a path down her spine, to venture onto the painted canvas of her backside. Even if the light is soft, it feels like a spotlight on how every contour and curve of her skin comes alive to you.

Your nails dig into the raw flesh as you kiss the nape of her neck. "Is it okay if I sleep here," you ask, "or do I have to sneak out?"

Arin releases a contented sigh, leans into your touch. Her voice carries a breathless quality as she answers, "Stay." Her breath dances against your skin.

So you stay.

"By the way, I've been wondering..."

"What about?" you inquire while your fingers inch closer to the warmth nestled between her thighs. Instinctively, Arin's hips jerk, and her legs close around your hand, holding it captive. The rhythm of her heartbeat resonates against your chest as you lean forward to plant a tender kiss on her cheek.

"How you're not jealous of Ryujin. Like how many guys and girls has she fucked this week?"

"Four. It's a down week." You chuckle, shaking your head as your hand continues its exploration, fingertips caressing Arin's delicate folds. "And I suppose you can imagine how I cope," you reply, the sensation of her moistness enveloping your fingers.

"Mmm, you're such a… cocky… ahh. I don't get it, but it works for you, I guess." Arin smiles, her eyes closed as she relaxes into your touch. She tilts her head back and lets out a moan, a soft one that you've come to love and know so well.

"Besides," you continue, cupping her mound with gentle pressure, "we've always been honest with one another. Ryujin knows that I think you have the most exquisite ass of anyone I've been with, even her. And she agrees. There's no lying between us."

"You really think so?"

Before you can respond, your phone illuminates the bedside table, displaying Ryujin's name on the caller ID. You laugh as you lean over to answer the call. Ryujin's voice reaches you, ragged and husky with desire. You're tempted to confirm with Ryujin about Arin's ass, but a greeting is probably more apt here.

"Hey baby," you say as you hold the phone, tracing careful circles on Arin's thigh. "What's up?"

"I miss you," Ryujin breathes, each word punctuated by shallow pants, "so fucking bad."

"I miss you too," you reply, your fingers continuing their gentle exploration along Arin's sensitive folds. "But isn't it a little weird to call your boyfriend while..."

"I'm what?" More breathy gasps betray her feigned innocence.

"Let me guess," you respond, slipping two fingers into Arin and curling inside. "Missionary?"

Ryujin splutters, her voice rising in pitch as she attempts to maintain her façade, while the man she's with muffles a moan in the background. Her laughter transforms from playful to breathless.

"I know what you wanted to say. 'Missionary? Don't insult me.' My mistake," you say, earning a choked noise from the phone in response, yet you continue. "Seems like a cowgirl kind of night."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," she protests, her resistance crumbling under the weight of pleasure. "Ah, ah, fuck..." You can almost picture her at this moment: back arched and head thrown back; ass slamming against the thighs of some other man, each moan like an explosion of color into your imagination.

"So I'm right." You fuck your fingers faster into Arin, the sticky sensation building between your knuckles and the juncture of her thighs; some of it is your creampie, and the rest must be her own juices, because your fingers are sliding in and out with ease. "Lucky guy."

Arin is panting beneath you, face flushed with arousal, rolling her hips in time with your rhythmic thrusting. As you listen to Ryujin's pleasure, Arin grows increasingly impatient. "Please Oppa, please..."

"How's your toy? Is he enjoying himself?" you ask, presenting your fingers to Arin, glistening with a mixture of her essence and your shared passion. A blush spreads across Arin's cheeks as she takes hold of your wrist, her eyes locked on yours. She proceeds to clean your digits with her mouth without breaking eye contact.

"He's a good boy," Ryujin says, "the usual type. I'm showing him the ropes."

You chuckle as you look down at Arin, who takes your fingers deeper and deeper into her throat. She gags, and drool slips from her lips and trickles down her chin. When you finally withdraw your digits, Arin leans over to nibble on your ear and whispers: "I want more."

Instead of responding to Arin's plea, you address Ryujin once more through the phone. "You're so predictable. Let me guess... It's one of those rookie HYBE idols?"

"Maybe," Ryujin manages to reply between breaths, the bed creaking in a rhythm that aligns with her mounting pleasure. "Hmm."

"Can I get a hint?" But instead of a response, all you get is the sound of riding and the faint squelching through your phone.

Arin gazes up at you, her body flushed and needy, a rosy hue spreading across her skin. She grips your shaft firmly, fingers curling around the tip and stroking downward, a small trickle of pre-cum escaping. She mouths, "Oppa, you're hard again."

Ryujin finally speaks up, her voice strained. "Oh, god, I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna—"

"Alright, I guess you can tell me later," you interrupt, ending the call just as Arin hooks her leg over your hip, her slick entrance pressing against your throbbing tip.

Arin drags her folds along your shaft and smears your desire against her sensitive clit. "Don't you want to know?"

"No. I'm like her like that. Easily distracted and—"

Not only your words but your breath are cut off as Arin's eager heat swallows your cock whole, only proving your point.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

"Well, now what?"

Your statement follows a gesture toward the couch where Ryujin and Karina are sitting, the latter sitting on the floor between the former's legs. Ryujin is petting Karina's hair, the soft touch providing a much-needed moment of reprieve. Your living room is always cleaner when your girlfriend is over, and the air is thicker and warmer, too. When Karina comes over, the house feels smaller, as if the walls are pushing in to create an intimate barrier, and the words come easier.

"Not today, honey," Ryujin says softly, but a stern undertone remains in her voice, one that you know means "no" and "back off." She can see the hunger in your eyes, the need for you to finish your conversation from yesterday. But as always she's right: you have a guest.

Karina's voice is hoarse. "I'm sorry for interrupting you guys."

"No, don't apologize," Ryujin soothes. "We've had enough fun."

Karina's gaze is downcast as she rests her head on Ryujin's thighs. "And I'm sorry for crying and ruining the mood. I just..." She lets out a soft sob, sniffles. You pass a tissue box to Ryujin, who in turn passes it to Karina.

"She's right," you say. "Nothing to apologize for, nothing to ruin."

Ryujin continues stroking Karina's hair, a small, encouraging smile on her lips.

"And I wrote all that too... I was being sincere and... to the fans"—every word is strained through a sob—"it must look like I don't care about them at all... I'm so... they're saying I'm an embarrassment."

Ryujin grabs Karina's shoulders, bends down so Karina can look up and make eye contact with her. "Hey, listen to me. I'm serious. I want you to stop apologizing. Stop thinking like that. You haven't done anything wrong."

You and Ryujin let time pass as Karina cries on her shoulder, goes through a whole tissue box, and then more time passes. You're thankful that Ryujin was already here when Karina knocked on your door; it was the perfect excuse to not talk about the real elephant in the room. Now, Ryujin's presence acts as a buffer that prevents the elephant from trampling into the conversation and crushing your living room beneath its massive bulk. (The fact that Karina came to you for comfort does not go unnoticed either.)

"What am I going to do? I can't even see him." She sits up and rubs her eyes. There's little makeup to ruin, yet she still manages to smear the little that there is, leaving her cheeks streaked with black and red. Even then, you can still see how gorgeous she is underneath it all, that kind of beauty that goes beyond skin deep. "My image is ruined."

Ryujin's first step for consolation is pushing a slice of pizza toward Karina, who, despite her nerves, starts scarfing down food like a ravenous wolf. "You? Ruined?" Ryujin laughs sarcastically. "Really, an eleven out of ten international supermodel is being brought to the brink by dating a super nice and well-liked guy. If only I were so lucky," she says, looking at you with a pointed smirk.

("Yah!" you mouth as you both laugh to yourselves, in your own private joke.)

"I want it to be simple," Karina says in between bites. "Just me and the people I care about."

Ryujin raises an eyebrow, a sly smirk playing on her lips. "Does that include me?"

Karina turns a deeper shade of red. She rests her head against Ryujin's knees, her eyes shut tight. "You don't count," she whines. However, it seems to cheer her up.

Your girlfriend chuckles a low and melodious sound that fills the room. "I can't help it," Ryujin says, her hands massaging Karina's shoulders and then running down her back, making her shiver. "I can't seem to keep my hands off of you."

"Y-yah," Karina stammers and then turns around to look at Ryujin with a feigned scowl. "I'm being serious though. Even forgetting about all the stuff that I've said... I'm just so stressed out. It's impossible to make time with him, especially now that it's all out in the open."

"Then don't," Ryujin offers bluntly. You give her a pointed look as if to say "Really? Don't?" But Ryujin ignores you, focusing her attention on Karina. "If it's too complicated then you shouldn't force yourself."

Karina shakes her head vehemently, eyes welling with tears once more.

"I don't mean don't date him!" Ryujin clarifies quickly, then takes a moment to ponder. "I mean, look at us." Ryujin points to herself and then to you, her eyes warm and inviting as she smiles at you. Karina follows Ryujin's line of sight with a tilt of the head.

"I know what you're going to ask," you say, "and yeah, he's already two steps ahead of you. He asked me how me and Ryujin made it work."

"And what did you say?" Karina asks.

"Well, I didn't get into the specifics with him." You were sidetracked with analogies, and you think the less drunk Karina wouldn't appreciate the roundabout method anyway, even if you liken her to a masterpiece of art. And Ryujin, she would appreciate your efforts—she still has the keys you bought her—but would undoubtedly burst out laughing when you got to the point.

Karina sits up straight, her expression eager. "Please tell me, I want to know. How does it work?"

Ryujin giggles while she leans in close to Karina's ear. "You really want to know? I think our arrangement is a little bit different than what you're used to."

"How?" Karina asks, her breath coming out in sharp rasps.

Ryujin runs a finger along Karina's jawline. "We've got quite a few friends, if you haven't noticed."

"What do you mean?" Karina looks so innocent when she's confused, like a lost kitten. So cute.

Ryujin always has the most fun when she's teasing, and the easiest target is often Karina, like this. It's not just teasing the way that actual friends tease: these are the touches she gives to her targets. To her prey. Her fingers brush against Karina's neck, trailing down to the base of her throat.

"I mean…" you start, "so you know how the number one problem is when schedules don't line up? You want to go out on a date, but you're both too busy?"

Karina nods slowly.

Ryujin leans forward, her voice dropping to a low purr. "We have other friends who we can spend time with. People who are also very friendly."

"I-I don't really get how that helps your relationship," Karina says.

"What I'm saying is—"

You stop Ryujin before she can explain further. "Hey, hey, wait, let's not freak her out. I don't think she's ready for that yet. But, I think there's still a point there. You have to be patient. To not be jealous. And, it's easier to do that when you have other people you're spending time with, too."

"That makes sense, I guess," Karina says, her finger on her lips. She lifts her head and traces patterns on Ryujin's knee, absentmindedly.

"Eventually, if it's meant to work out, time will make itself."

Karina sighs, her shoulders slumping. "You're right."

You watch as she closes her eyes meditatively and clasps her hands together. You exchange glances with Ryujin, who shrugs, and you both sit in silence for a few moments, waiting for her to finish. Finally, she opens her eyes with determination. You've never seen such fire in her eyes before.

"Alright, I can do this." Karina pumps her fists in the air, and you can practically see the confidence radiating from her.

"Good girl," Ryujin says, which earns an indignant huff from Karina.

"Shut up." Karina crosses her arms and sticks out her tongue. "I'm not a child," she says, like a child.

"If you're going to keep saying sorry all the time, you're acting like a child," Ryujin responds teasingly.

"Shut up!" Karina pushes Ryujin back onto the couch and climbs on top of her. Ryujin laughs but doesn't push back, not resisting as Karina leans forward and pins her to the cushions. You can tell that Karina is just playing around, and the sudden silence from Ryujin is genuine. Karina gets off of Ryujin's lap, a blush spreading across her cheeks when she sees your stare.

You, Ryujin, and Karina manage to move on and spend the rest of the night playing board games and chatting casually. Most of the conversation revolves around you recounting stories from your filming sets and Ryujin giving you a hard time about your acting, while Karina listens attentively to the both of you. Eventually, when the late hour strikes, the conversation slows to a halt. Ryujin yawns and stretches, and Karina is cuddled up with her.

"Hey, Karina," you say. "Are you going to go home tonight?"

"Huh?" Karina replies, opening her eyes. "I thought I would sleep over."

Ryujin nudges Karina. "Wow, how bold of you, sleeping at your ex's place. Were you gonna do it even if I wasn't here?"

"Yah!" Karina squeals, jumping up. "That's not what I meant, I wouldn't do that!"

"I'm just messing with you. I'm staying here tonight, too. And you..." She makes a pointed glare at you. "You're sleeping on the couch tonight, right?"

"This is my house," you say, sighing, as you watch the two girls leave for your bedroom, and you fetch a blanket and pillow for yourself.

One night of sleep on your sofa is a small price to pay to see them so happy together.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

"W-well..."

It's been a while since you've been in such a compromising position. Ryujin is on top of you, her hips pinning you to the bed. You're lying on your back like a helpless lamb to the slaughter, no room for resistance when her fingers trail along your chest, collect beads of sweat from the surface of your skin. Your hands are also pinned, under the diligent grip of Haewon, eyes possibly more watchful than Ryujin's own—they're pencils, pens, chisel to the marble statue of your form. If Ryujin's hands were to strike at that very moment, would you crumble into dust, or be reduced to a pile of rubble? Haewon, the interloper, the invader of privacy who has no reason to be in this room, is nude as well, her full breasts bared before you, nipples taut and erect. As if to invite the touch that you can't give and wish you could. Haewon's tits are bigger than Ryujin's, and she looks at you like she knows it, all the more eager to tease you with her assets. You've already had your chance to savor those breasts—Haewon let you play with them for a while—but now you're stuck and happily stuck if you had to admit it.

"Well," Ryujin echoes, like the natural formation of a canyon could mock the rockiness of your voice, "what now?"

Your breath falls off a cliff.

"Isn't there something you want to say? Come on, Oppa. Tell us what you did wrong," Ryujin coaxes as she leans forward and presses her lips to yours. Her tongue probes into your mouth to deepen the kiss while her hips grind against yours in a tantalizing rhythm. She pulls away suddenly and chuckles.

This is a bad cop, bad cop situation. You gulp. "I'm sorry."

"'Sorry' isn't what we're looking for," Haewon says, low. This is one way to meet someone for the first time; somehow, this suits whatever image you had of her, based on Ryujin's stories, or based on how she is behind the camera. But now she has both eyes on you, and those eyes are like the barrel of a gun, and that gun is pointed straight at you. It's not like you haven't been in more compromising situations—but this feels more dangerous. It's in the way that your girlfriend and the newcomer are so alike in their ability to control the expression of their face: it's like watching two puppeteers exchange roles seamlessly. When Ryujin looks at you, and then at Haewon—the way that the smirk on Ryujin's face changes in tone when she turns to her friend—the way her eyes soften, then her cheeks turn rosy—the way that when Haewon crinkles her nose in disapproval, Ryujin pouts in return—and then they both look back at you with narrow-eyed disappointment; it's all so precise, you might think this is a rehearsed scene. Haewon knows how to play along with the moment, even if you're certain she has no context.

Ryujin asks you another question: "Are you gonna keep acting like this?"

"Acting like what?" you reply, your voice a croak. Your throat is dry, your pulse pounding. The heat of arousal is pooling in your groin. You swallow hard as Ryujin shifts her position to grind herself against your clothed shaft. She leans forward to capture your lips once again, to kiss you passionately, to plunder your mouth with the reckless abandon of her tongue.

"Like you didn't make Karina cry," Ryujin mumbles in between kisses. She pulls away slowly, a thin strand of saliva connecting her lips to yours.

"So this is my fault, and not, I don't know, her actual boyfriend?" You prop yourself up by your elbows, halfway sitting up. You take a glance at Haewon. "Besides, what's she doing here? No offense"—Haewon shrugs—"but this doesn't involve you."

"I'm just here to have fun," she says. "And I'm here because Ryujin wanted me here."

You look back at your girlfriend. "Babe..."

Ryujin cups your chin and tilts your head towards her. Her eyes meet yours, fiery determination reflected in the depths of her gaze. "Karina came to me crying. And guess what? It's because you broke her heart."

"What? That's impossible. How? I didn't do anything to her."

"No? That's not what she told me." Ryujin's tone is flat and level. She's not angry. But there's a weight in her words that strikes fear into your heart, a cold dread that runs down your spine like liquid ice. "You were supposed to be the most amazing boyfriend. And yet you broke her heart."

The thing with timing and love and circumstance and all the little things that make or break a relationship is that it's so easy to fuck up without realizing it. What happened between you and Karina, you would rather ascribe to fate's hands; truth is these hands are invisible because they don't exist, and it's the fault of your own for faltering. In a different time, you would not have met Ryujin after you and Karina broke up—in that other time, you would have been patient, and that other time is in a way so much more rational, because who would not wait for Karina? By all measures, she is worth the wait. But you were greedy, and that greed led you to Ryujin. Your lust got the best of you, and in return, so did your love for both of them.

Ryujin must have seen something in your expression that she takes as guilt because she releases your wrists and places her hands on either side of your face, holding your head steady as she studies your features. For a single second, that tight control over her facial muscles falters, which reveals an uncommon hurt in her eyes.

"You know what? This isn't the time," she whispers. "Not with our friend here." She nods toward Haewon, who gives you a cheerful wave in return.

"Hey, don't let me stop you. If you wanted to talk, then maybe we should have done this one on one."

"No," Ryujin replies, shaking her head. "It's not that serious. I just..."

You lean forward and press a kiss to the tip of Ryujin's nose, hoping that it will calm her nerves. "I know, I know. You actually care about her. I do too. I did. Let's... we can figure this out later."

Your next kiss is not so chaste. You plant a trail of kisses down Ryujin's cheek to the corner of her mouth. Her hands travel along the curve of your jaw, they tangle in your hair, and then she deepens the kiss. Her tongue slips past your teeth, presses her body closer to yours, molds your chests together, her perky breasts a sweet contrast against your hard muscles. You have the thought: what would your observer's tits feel like instead?

"Wow. So sweet," Haewon says quietly as she watches the two of you making out. "I guess I am just here to watch." She shifts her position to rest against the headboard of your bed, giving her an unobstructed view of you and Ryujin.

Ryujin lets out a soft whimper as your hand grazes her inner thigh. "No, come here, Haewon," she whispers, patting the spot next to her.

Haewon glances between the two of you with uncertainty before she slowly rises and climbs onto the bed beside Ryujin, where she scoots close to her friend. She keeps her eyes glued to yours and cups Ryujin's face in her hands and leans forward; they kiss. Haewon closes her eyes and moans softly as Ryujin trails kisses down the column of her throat, nibbles at her pulse point.

Sex isn't an answer or a reward or a conversation; it's the spark, the catalyst, the fuel on the fire, all of them mixed into one. And when that spark meets the catalyst meets the fuel on the fire, there are only more questions left over from the remnants of the explosion—and their answers can wait until tomorrow. But for now, when Ryujin's breath tickles your earlobe as she whispers her dirty fantasies, Haewon is kissing a line down your girlfriend's neck; it's in that moment that you don't have room to care about the consequences when this all started and where this will go; instead, you have all night with these two beauties who are so hot and heavy and ready to fuck.

Ryujin's hand snakes down your abs and wraps around your cock, stroking you slowly. You moan as her fingers tease your sensitive flesh.

"You better keep up" almost sounds like an insult.

You will.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

"Well, now what?"

"Should I just break it off? One shot, clean?" Jaewook grabs a bite of steak, sitting across from you in this private room. There are a couple of other actors too, all the same year as you, but they're lost in their own conversations. You're always surprised that Jaewook isn't the center of attention, even with the Damoclesian sword of news hanging over him; then again, all these people are too experienced with the entertainment industry to be swept up by the headlines.

You wish it were that simple is something you wish you could tell him. You wish you could tell him about the time you and Karina dated, and how SM caught the two of you, forced you to break up since she was just a rookie. How you've been friends since. And how every string, between you and Karina, between you and Ryujin, between Ryujin and Karina, are tangled together too tightly for any clean cut to break the web. You want to tell him because if there's anyone who could understand, it's him. But you also know he can't hear it yet, no matter how much you want to get it off your chest.

"Hey, man, I can't tell you what to do," you say instead, sipping your drink. "But it seems like you're enjoying yourself with her."

"That's not the problem," Jaewook says. He gulps before he admits to you, quietly: "Karina isn't the only one."

Your eyes widen, and you almost choke on your food. You cough and try to catch your breath. "You're kidding," you say. "Who else?"

He gives you a rueful smile. "I can't tell you. I promised I wouldn't."

"But then what about Karina? You know every man in Korea would take your place," you point out.

He shakes his head. "I don't know about that. You know, I haven't even seen her in person once since the whole thing started. It's just... a bunch of texts and calls, and the occasional voice chat. It's like a Bubble subscription that I don't pay for."

You laugh. Think back to the time you were in a similar situation with Ryujin, or even Karina herself. "Sure, but I'm sure you're more patient than that."

"Well, yeah, but... it's still hard, you know? I don't know how long I can keep doing this."

You frown and nod slowly. "I get it. You're a good guy. And I know you don't want to hurt either of them."

"I mean, if it's just Karina, I wouldn't mind," he says, chuckling. "But with Somin—" He puts his hand over his mouth, looking around the room.

You can only laugh. "You're hopeless, man," you say. It's easy to picture him and Somin, even though you've only seen them together in one project because you remember the same way she'd look at you when she's having a good time; it's that sort of trust that makes it so easy to fall into a relationship with a co-star. There's a perfect contrast between them: him, sharp on the outside, a teddy bear on the inside; her, a sweet tooth on the outside, a firecracker on the inside. Then, there's that weird sort of chemistry actors have with one another—you and Ryujin always joke about it when she sees you on set with another woman, as though you're both acting like you're not dating. She gets it; she's an idol too.

"I'm so fucked," Jaewook groans. He takes a long sip of his drink before he turns to you with an anxious expression.

He slumps in his chair, and Dohoon calls out from across the table. "Hey, Jaewook, you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," he says, waving his hand. "I'm fine. Just tired."

"Ah, we're all tired," Dohoon replies with a grin.

"You know, you should get some sleep, Jaewook," you suggest. "You look like you could use it."

"Hey, I'm fine," he says, shaking his head. Jaewook talks about how he and his former costar get to meet up more often, maybe because she's an actress instead of an idol. You already see how this is going to play out, the story written many times before. You try your best to listen, but all you can think about is how your friend is falling deeper and deeper into something he doesn't even realize yet. "We went out for drinks last week," he says.

"I don't blame you," you say, "but I really think you should try to focus on just one person. Even if none of you are actually dating yet." You want to laugh at yourself. How ridiculous of you, a hypocrite to lecture him like this.

"Yeah... I guess you're right." Jaewook scratches the back of his neck, nodding sheepishly. His hand slides down to rest on his chest as he glances at his phone on the table. Another missed call from Karina flashes across the screen before disappearing again.

"Answer that, dumbass." You point. He gives you a look."You act like I'm your personal probation officer."

"I mean, it's kinda true. I'm obviously gonna call back in a second. You know, as soon as you shut up."

You chuckle. "Fine. See, this is why you gotta be more like me. Don't complicate things with what ifs and whatever, just tell Karina straight up."

"You mean, tell her about Somin?"

"No, not that, obviously. That it won't work with you. Look, I'm sure the two of you knew what you were getting into, right? I mean, you knew she was an idol, you knew how hard it'd be to make it work, and you went in knowing that it was just going to be flirting, right? So just go to her and say, 'Hey, this isn't working. Sorry about that. Let's stay friends.'"

"Yeah, but—"

You shake your head. "Trust me. You wanna know how me and Ryujin work it out?"

Jaewook nods. "Oh yeah, you never did answer that."

"We've got friends. Lots of 'em. And I'm not talking about the same friend either. I mean, 'friends'," you say, wiggling your eyebrows. You can see the realization dawning on him, his expression a mix of confusion and curiosity and there's the blush and then there's the laughter and finally, acceptance.

"Oh. Oh... I see."

You smile. "So you get it now."

"Kind of? I'm not stupid, I know what you mean. I'm just having trouble seeing how that helps your relationship."

"Less stress, more fun. Don't overcomplicate things."

"Ah," he says, chuckling. "I see. So you're saying... I should get more 'friends'?"

"No, not like that," you say, laughing. "I mean, you do what you want, and I'm sure you're almost as handsome as me to pull it off—"

"You're full of shit," Jaewook retorts, and you both laugh.

You both return to your meals and after a few bites, you have a final piece for him. "But honestly though, if you like Somin, you should go for it. Don't worry about what other people think. I don't have to tell you to let Karina down easily, you know that. But from what I know about her, it's worth stressing that it's not her fault. It's the world's fault. She'll believe you."

He smiles sincerely. "Thank you."

"And above all else, be firm." God, you sound like his dad or uncle or something; the two of you are the same age. You continue regardless, "Otherwise, you'll end up like me, stuck sharing my girl and having to sleep on a couch."

"That bad, huh?"

"Yep. It's terrible. Now make your goddamn call."

You'd think a man like him would be more steadfast. That the truths within himself would come more obviously. Obvious. The word itself is not so. How easily swayed. But does that make you any better?

✦✧✦✧✦✧

"Well, now what?"

"I don't know," Ryujin replies to you. She's in the passenger seat of your car, the two of you parked in some indoor parking lot, and she looks like she's just done fucking you in the backseat because she's just done fucking you in the backseat, her hair sticking to her sweaty skin, even the parts you can't see under her clothes. Karina had the correct idea, wanting things to be simple. That's why you and Ryujin always make time like this—to talk and fuck, then talk again. Most likely fuck again right after.

A blush crosses her face when she notices you staring at her in the mirror. You appreciate in these moments when she's cute and still trying to figure out her breathing.

"No, actually, I do know," she says, like she caught it.

"What?" you ask. You open your arms out. Ryujin presses herself against your chest. You wrap around her waist, bring her close, tight, only in the way that two lovers so sure of themselves can do. You and she stay like this for a while, her soft breaths tickling your neck while she relaxes against you. "You wanna tell me instead of talking in puzzles? That's pretty new for you."

Ryujin sighs, rests her head on your shoulder. "I'm not sure what to do," she says.

"About what?" you ask. You press a kiss to the top of her head, and she smiles and nuzzles against you.

"Well, Karina..."

"What is it?"

"She's cute."

You laugh."Yeah, I agree."

Ryujin looks like she's steeling herself to say something. Again, it's adorable, how she readies her eyes, breathes out slowly, and clenches her fist. "Here it comes. Okay. I can say this." (Watching her go through this routine has your eyebrows almost permanently raised.) "I like Yu Jimin. I really like her."

You start half of a laugh in disbelief. Then, it becomes a full laugh. When Ryujin looks at you with utter disbelief at the audacity you're showing her, you reach over and grab her ass, squeezing it, and that earns you a squeal from Ryujin.

"That's what you were worried about?" you ask.

Ryujin nods, a sheepish smile on her lips. "You..." She narrows her eyes and hits you in the shoulder. "I'm being serious!"

"I know you are, baby."

"So why aren't you freaking out or anything?"

"Really? Do I even have to say why not?"

"I-I mean, like, I know we have the whole deal and whatnot, but that's different. That's just fucking. I... I truly, actually love Karina."

"And I've noticed that," you reply.

You pull her in for a kiss, lips parting as you cup her head in your hands. Your tongue flicks out against her lower lip and taste the salty tang of perspiration and saliva. Whatever steady rhythm she's caught has re-unsteadied, her motions still fervent and rushed. Every time you make out with her in your front seat, you recall the first time after picking her up from a radio show, remember how you'd fucked her on the stairs of her dorm afterward, in her bed while Lia and Yeji were in the living room, how the two of you snuck out. The memory gets you hard, and she's already noticed.

Ryujin breaks the kiss to stare at your hard cock in disbelief like she can't comprehend how you've managed to recover so fast despite already understanding your stamina. But she's also gasping, gulping air down. 

"Goddammit, hold on," she says, holds your shoulders, and pushes away from you as she leans back. "I was saying something."

"Oh. Yeah. Karina." You wipe your lips, some saliva dribbling on your hand. "Please, I don't even get why we're having this conversation. Aren't you supposed to be the observant one?"

"Well, because you're my boyfriend," she says, matter-of-factly. "And I'm your girlfriend. That's why we're talking about it. That was the first thing we talked about when it came to this open relationship thing, what to do about real emotions and feelings and shit."

"Good point. But why are you worried about how I feel about Karina? You know that we're all friends here, that we didn't break up on bad terms or anything. So if there's anyone I trust you with, it's her. Besides, I see how you look at her. And touch her. Shit, aren't you two close enough to be a thing?"

"I don't know." Ryujin shakes her head. "Maybe we are, but I don't know if she feels the same way."

"Why would she play along if she didn't like you?"

"I don't know," she says again, sounding exasperated. "I always get the feeling that maybe she's just being nice. Besides, look at her, goody two shoes. I bet she thinks if she accidentally looks at boobs other than her own in the mirror, she'd go to hell."

The picture of Karina turning herself on with her own nude body in the mirror has both you and Ryujin distracted, mouth open, picturing. It's funny how in sync the two of you are, and when you realize it, you and Ryujin start laughing.

"I wouldn't put it past her to do that," you say.

"Maybe I'm right," Ryujin retorts. "God, her body... Seriously, I always love getting an eyeful whenever she comes over and insists to stay in her pajamas."

"Pft. Trust me, those types of girls... Half the time they're exactly as they appear. The other half of the time, they're secretly kinky bitches who'll tie you up and fuck you until you beg for mercy. But you'll still get hard for them."

"Wow, that's deep," Ryujin says, smirking. "That from experience? You fucking Christian girls without me?"

"Meh, I just knew the type." You shrug.

"Wait a second, did you and Karina—"

"No, no, we didn't get that far back then. Trust me, I'd be surprised at who I am right now."

"Yeah, an absolute manwhore."

You raise your hands in surrender. "I get the point." You look up at Ryujin, the moonlight filtering through her hair and outlining her face. "But back on topic, I think you should just tell her how you feel."

"But what if she doesn't feel the same way? Or if she does, what if she gets scared off? She's really sensitive about that stuff. I don't want to push her too far, and our friendship is important to me." Ryujin looks down; it's the most serious you've ever seen her about anything other than dancing, music, and you. You know in the whole list of priorities, her friendships are always number one, and you've always conceded to that. "If we couldn't do it, I would be fine with that."

"I don't know, just take it slow. Don't go in for a kiss, just... try something. Hold her hand. If she's uncomfortable, she'll let you know. And if she doesn't, then..." You trail off, the implication hanging heavy in the air.

Ryujin nods, but there's still a hint of doubt in her voice when she replies. "I can try, I guess. Thanks, baby."

You reach out and grab her hand, lacing your fingers together. The two of you stay like that for a few moments, listening to the faint sounds of the night, speeding cars, and distant cicadas crying out. You speak up, your voice low. "I have some insider news for you."

"Hm?"

"She's going to need a shoulder to cry on."

Ryujin contemplates it; you're unsure how deeply as you lean the driver seat back while Ryujin pushes down on your shoulders. The car bumps to a musical rhythm, silent save for the soft moans and groans.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

Well, now what's on your doorstep is a peculiar combination, really. Sieun and Somi don't have much in common besides their time at JYP and being idols. Oh, and they both speak English, although Somi is more fluent. But Sieun isn't too shabby at it either. Fortunately, they both possess a natural charm when it comes to meeting new people, allowing them to quickly form a bond, especially in the heat of the moment. Maybe you would’ve preferred just one, or just the other. Yet, you couldn't help it. You were double-booked.

“I’m sure we can work something out between the three of us,” Somi says with a smirk while comparing her forearm to your length, and Sieun nods.

Next thing you know, Sieun is taking the head of your cock into her mouth, her lips forming a perfect circle. The sensation of her warm tongue against your shaft sends hot pulses through your body, and her fingers wrap around the base of your member, around the head of your member when it strokes up.

Meanwhile, Somi directs her attention towards your balls as her hot breath tickles your sack. She skillfully licks, kisses, and sucks on them. The synchronization between the two is impeccable as if they have engaged in this act together countless times before (which they haven't because this is only their third time ever having seen each other in person). Your eyes are fixated on Somi's breasts, a stark contrast to Sieun's. Somi's bosom is larger and bounces like a buoy with each bob of her head. Her nipples are erect as well like two tiny beacons calling you to touch her.

Sieun slows down and pulls back just enough to leave her lips wrapped around your cockhead before she looks up at you through long, full lashes. The corners of her mouth are upturned into a smile. She swirls her tongue around the head of your member while her hand continues to stroke your base. Gazes up at you, her lips now red and slightly swollen. "You like watching me suck you off, don't you?"

"I love it," you say, your voice husky. "Your mouth feels so good."

She grins, her tongue flicking out to lick the tip of your dick. "You want more?"

"Fuck yes."

Somi, sensing your distraction, switches to teasing your shaft with her tongue and lips and hands. "What about me? What do you think about my mouth?"

"Y-yes," you reply, panting. You run your fingers through Somi's hair. "Your tits and your lips and your tongue... you look so fucking hot like this."

Somi hums in acknowledgment as she slides her tongue along the underside of your shaft, then lowers back to your balls, where her hands cup and gently massage them. "Mmm," she says, the vibrations of her voice on your testicles causing your thighs to tremble. "I'm gonna make you feel so good."

Your hips buck at the combined efforts of the girls' ministrations, their hot breaths and moist mouths covering every inch of your lower body. You think you've reached the peaks of your pleasure already when Somi ventures lower at the same time as Sieun. While Sieun puts her hands behind her back and uses only her lips to take you in, Somi spreads your cheeks open with both hands. And before you can even react, Somi's tongue is already pushing into your hole, hot and slick against your sensitive skin. The pleasure from her licking and probing your pucker sends waves of euphoria throughout your body. You moan louder than expected and grip the bedsheets tightly while your muscles contract involuntarily.

As Sieun takes in more of your shaft into her mouth, Somi withdraws her tongue, only to replace it with a finger, slick with saliva. It pushes past your rim with relative ease, but it still stings, and you let out a low hiss through your teeth as she slowly inserts her digit. You must already be unloading pre-cum into Sieun's mouth because that's the experience you've had with Ryujin whenever she's done this to you in the past. Somi only leaves a knuckle deep inside your hole, which is all she needs while her tongue returns to tease your balls. The feeling of her lips and teeth grazing your sack is a stark contrast to her gentle touch inside of you. When she pulls her finger back out, she replaces it with her tongue once again. She licks your rim in an almost lazy manner as if she doesn't care that she's doing this and could continue for hours.

The combination of their mouths and tongues and hands has your head spinning and vision blurring—you've drunk too much, yet your mouth is so dry.

Unfortunately, it appears that your girlfriend possesses some sort of uncanny radar for interrupting your most intimate moments. Your cell phone relentlessly rings and buzzes on the bedside table, disrupting the erotic symphony unfolding before you.

"Answer it," Somi says, looking up at you from between your legs. "I'm not stopping."

You reach out and grab your phone, your hand shaking. "H-hello?"

"Hey, baby. What are you up to?" Ryujin's voice sounds amused on the other end of the line.

You can only breathe heavily, between the woman slurping on your cock, and the other one keeping her promised tongue in your most sensitive region. "No, nothing. Just watching a movie." You’re not sure yourself why you lied there. Usually, that’s Ryujin, teasing you about who she’s with.

"Oh really? What's it about?" Ryujin's voice drips with curiosity.

You grunt as you desperately try to collect your thoughts amidst the tantalizing distractions. "Um... it's about this girl who's obsessed with her ex."

"That sounds interesting," she replies, her tone laced with amusement. "So, how is she obsessed?"

A shudder runs through your body as Sieun and Somi persist in their arousing endeavors, their tongues continuing to lavish attention upon your member and balls. "Um... she's like... she can't get over him, so she stalks him and stuff. But he's dating someone else now, and she's not happy about it."

"I see," Ryujin responds. "Sounds like quite a crazy movie you're watching."

"Mmhm," you manage to reply, struggling to suppress a moan as Somi grabs a bundle of Sieun's hair with her free hand and forces her further down onto your cock, her nose pressed against your pelvis, her lips stretched wide around your thick girth. A gag escapes from Sieun as she coughs and chokes on your meaty shaft for a moment. When she withdraws slightly, bubbles of spit form at the corner of her mouth, trailing down the shaft of your member and collecting in Somi's hands, and then she completely removes your cock from her mouth with an audible pop, a string of saliva dangling between her lips and your shaft.

"What happens next?" Ryujin asks on the other end of the phone.

"I don't know," you breathe out, trying to keep your voice steady despite the current events. "We're just starting. I don't know what the ending will be yet."

"I think I have an idea of where it might go," Ryujin says."By the way," Ryujin's voice interrupts your pleasure-induced haze, "before you cum down her throat, put me on speaker. I want to talk to her."

Your eyes widen in disbelief, a mix of pleasure and panic coursing through your veins. "What? No—"

"Put it on speaker," she insists firmly.

With a groan of surrender, you comply, hitting the speaker button on your phone and placing it on your stomach.

"Hey there, I'm Ryujin, and I'm this guy's girlfriend," Ryujin says, her voice coming out as a purr. "Do you mind telling me what you're doing to him right now?"

Sieun wipes her mouth with the back of her hand before replying. "O-oh, hey," she says as if she has any clue what's going on. "I-It's Sieun. Hi."

Ryujin gasps. "Sieun! It's been so long! We haven't met since you were in JYP. How've you been?"

Sieun's cheeks flush a deep pink, and she responds, "Um, good! I-I'm doing good."

Meanwhile, Somi doesn't even try to hide her grin as she takes over suction duty, her lips wrapped tightly around your shaft. You can feel her tongue swirling and teasing your tip, driving you wild with pleasure.

"Wait a minute..." Ryujin says. "Who's that? Is that another person?"

"Hah, Ryujih," Somi says, her voice muffled by your dick.

"No way," Ryujin laughs. "I can't believe this. Is that you, Somi?"

Somi spits out your dick and sits up straight. "Yep, it's me."

"Wah, wooow. You know, I definitely expected you, and maybe Sieun a little bit, but the two of you together... Wow. I never would've guessed. But, I mean, if you're both in on it, then I guess it's okay."

"Y-yeah," you say, trying to catch your breath as Somi resumes her assault on your senses.

"So, how do you feel about sucking my boyfriend's cock?" Ryujin asks, her voice filled with curiosity. "Is it good? Does it taste good?"

Sieun's eyes are half-lidded with lust, and she whispers, "It's really good."

"And what about you, Somi? You like sucking his dick too?"

"Yeah, it's great," Somi says, giggling. "He's so big."

Ryujin chuckles. "Oh my god. I can't believe it. You two are actually sucking his dick right now, aren't you? This isn't a prank call or something? Woah, I'm seriously in awe, you guys. That's awesome. I wish I could join in."

You moan, your cock throbbing between Somi and Sieun's mouths as Ryujin continues to chat with them, her voice a soothing balm to your frayed nerves. It's a surreal experience, how casually she's speaking with them about sucking your dick, and yet there they are, eagerly obeying her every command. Ryujin tells them to take turns deepthroating you—they comply, their tongues caressing your shaft while their lips wrap tightly around your base. Then, Ryujin tells Somi to cover your cock in spit, and Somi does so: saliva drips from her lips as she drools all over your shaft. Next, Ryujin commands Sieun to lick Somi's spit off your balls, and Sieun happily laps up every drop before Ryujin has Somi spit again. Ryujin tells them to make out for as long as possible while simultaneously trying to fit your cock between their lips, and Somi and Sieun do just that—they kiss as if their lives depended on it, unwilling to separate from one another until the last moment when they have to come up for air.

"Okay, I've had enough fun for now. I can make myself cum later with this," Ryujin says, panting. You picture her on her bed, phone in one hand and the other down her panties. "You can go off speaker now. I have something else to tell you, Oppa."

You take the phone off speaker and hold it up to your ear. "What is it?"

"First of all, I asked Karina out," she says, all excited. "Made it clear it was a date. And she was confused, and I think she still kinda is. But that's fine."

"Great for you," you say.

"Are you busy Saturday night?" Ryujin asks.

"Should be okay." This one comes out breathily as Somi starts to wrap her tits around your shaft.

"Perfect. Perfect. I think it'll be a lot better if you're there. Just in case. And maybe we can figure something out. So the other thing is you better..."

You forgot what she said, right up until your climax, when the order comes back to you. It was quite hard deciding on which idol to cum inside. Ultimately, Sieun took your creampie gladly, while Somi seemed happier at the chance of eating that same load out of Sieun.

No wonder you're so devoted to Ryujin: for this night alone, she deserves more than she knows.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

"Well, now what?" becomes Jaewook's question, and it's funny hearing it from him. The expected headlines are out now, busy schedule, break-up, blah, blah, blah. Somehow, he's made much more time for Somin, and you don't necessarily blame him for it. He's getting a lot less dumb hate, and for that, you're happy for him. But then, there are the headlines featuring you, and a certain two other idols at a cafe in the countryside. Seriously, the town has a population you can count on your fingers and toes. How did that happen?

You look around Jaewook's house; it's much nicer than yours, although it's a shame it's so empty with how big the rooms are. You notice yellow flowers on a stand; he has a good sense for fashion, not as much for interior decorating—that's the work of a woman with an eye for color. You can't help but wonder how close they are, to know so much about one another. You're not jealous. People find their own ways, and those ways change with the people they meet, or lose. You can't be jealous. Everything gained for one is everything lost for another.

Karina, in this way, is everything.

"I knew this would happen." Jaewook laughs to himself.

"You couldn't dream of a tenth of it."

"Alright, keep the mystery to yourself. I'm happy as is."

You nod, sipping your beer. "So, how's Somin?"

"She's good," he says, with a shrug. "A lot more time for each other. Just like you said."

"You don't regret anything?"

"I mean... obviously, you've got to, at least a little bit, right? You know, someone told me, if it's Karina, you clear your schedule, you quit your job, you better move the world for her. I've thought about it. But, there's no point in dwelling on it."

You can't help but let a grin spread across your face. "You know, I bet she's a lot less uptight."

"Really? I didn't get that notion from Karina the times we talked... but I guess we never got that deep."

You shrug. "We can't all be lucky as you and me."

"You say that, but you're the one with a girlfriend who knows exactly how to keep you happy. And now, two girlfriends?"

"It's complicated. Karina, well... she's just a friend. But, you know, I just wanted to hear it from you. We're cool, right? Like, you have nothing against me?" you ask.

"Sure," Jaewook says, "whatever. When I found out you two were exes, I realized everything. In fact, are you sure you can keep doing... whatever it is you and Ryujin do?"

"That's a good point. I guess, hm, I'll cross that bridge when we get there. But forget about that. We're good?"

"Yeah," he says. "We're good."

You clink your beers together. "Great."

Guys are easy, you've learned. Even the ones who are your supposed competition in life are simple as hell. It's a blessing and a curse that a beer and a lent ear are all it takes. And even if Jaewook didn't need it, you needed his. He was right, as much as you don't want to admit. The question of how you and Ryujin can keep things up without hurting Karina is something you haven't considered in any depth. And now that the thought is planted in your head, it's all you can think about.

When it comes to girls...

They're easy too, you've learned. But then, they're also difficult, not by some inherent property, but by the world making it so. Maybe you can graze at this feeling, with the challenges and expectations and scrutinies as an actor, but if you ever felt the need to write an apology for having your own heart and your own mind—then, you'd presume, fault lays on the shoulders of others, not yourself.

No. It's not about guys, girls, or the world and its difficulty.

It's you and the mess that you've made.

Then again, there is no real harm in making some more.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

"Well, now what?"

You're at a party, a surprisingly big one for you, for once. There are some familiar faces, and some not so familiar. Most importantly, your two girlfriends are there. How's that for a statement? That's right, Ryujin and Karina, your hot and sexy threesome girlfriends, together at a party with you.

It's been a week or two since the gossip went viral. No one believes the three of you are dating, and that would be the truth. A more accurate assessment of the current situation is that you're dating Ryujin and Ryujin is dating Karina. Considering the history between you and Karina, you'd say that's for the better.

At this moment, you're not together with Ryujin and Karina at the party, unsure where either of them went. Instead, you're on the third floor of this huge house, sharing some strong, over-sweet mixed drink with Minji, Yoonjung, Jiwon, and Soobin. You're surprised to see Minji here at all, considering she just started drinking recently. If anything, you'd think she might join the other fromis_9 girls in their own circle. Meanwhile, as expected, Jiwon is the odd Fromis member out, the loudest, the social butterfly. Yoonjung is the only fellow actor, who of course you know from Jaewook, so most of your time is spent talking to her, and so far, Soobin hasn't said much. Didn't expect him to. So you're surprised when he speaks up first.

"What do you mean?" he asks.

"What do you mean 'what do you mean'?" you reply.

"Like, when you say 'now what?' Because you say that a lot," Soobin replies, in a measured tone.

"Uh... I dunno. I kinda just get bored sitting still. I wanna know what's the next scoop, or what's the next move, whatever. Like, what's your plan now? I'm surprised that you're already done with Ryujin. It's only been a few weeks. What happened?"

Soobin places his hand over your mouth and pulls you away from the girls to the corner of the room—looks almost like a kidnapping, making Minji and Jiwon's eyes wide. His smile placates them, that damned adorable smile. "Yah," he says, "what's wrong with you? You can't just say that."

To be fair, the music was loud, and the conversation was very hush. You smile sheepishly. "Sorry. Guess I'll play it safer next time. Oh, come on, we're all celebrities here, I think everyone knows about Ryujin and I by now. And Karina too. And you, and Yunjin, and Yeonjun, and—"

He laughs. "You're so funny. Seriously, you're going to give me a heart attack."

You snort. "Alright, alright, whatever. But you're done with her?"

"Yeah, well," Soobin leans in to whisper, "she's been killing me recently."

You don't need him to elaborate further. You understand. "Sorry to hear that. She's a lot of work, huh?"

"Don't I know it." He takes a sip of his drink and shakes his head. "But it's fine. I mean, it's not like it's just me. Everyone else is dealing with it, too. I feel bad for the guy she's dating now."

You raise an eyebrow. "I'm doing just fine, thank you very much."

Soobin chuckles. "Oh yeah, sure. You're a real saint, you know that? I don't know how you manage her, let alone all the other girls."

"It's not that hard," you say, smirking. "You just gotta be smart about it."

Soobin nods, taking another swig of his drink. "You make it sound like a piece of cake. I think I need a break for now."

"Alright, thanks for letting me know. You didn't have to, or anything, it's really between you and her, but whatever. You're a great guy. If you ever want to try again, I'm sure she's down, but you could let me know too. I'll put in a good word." You bump his shoulder. "Just buy me some chicken or something."

"Deal," Soobin says. You're about to leave before you hear Soobin say, "Yeah." He laughs, maybe a tad too loudly, and shakes his head in disbelief. "You're so ridiculous. This is so ridiculous."

The two of you exchange a brief hug before parting ways, leaving you alone in the crowd of people. You take out your phone and check the messages from Karina, asking if you're free tonight. You know she's probably upstairs hanging out with the JYP girls, like Chaeyoung and Haewon, although you're not sure who else is at this party. But, as much as you'd like to, you can't be everywhere. You send a reply that you're still busy drinking with Minji and Jiwon, and you'll see her soon enough.

As you slip your phone back into your pocket, a familiar deep voice cuts through the ambient noise and captures your attention. "Hey, babe. You got a moment?"

You turn, and there she is, Ryujin, approaching with her signature magnetic allure. Clad in a black minidress that clings to her curves, her stilettos click against the ground with each step. You can tell she isn't bothering with a bra underneath, as her chest sways with each movement, her nipples straining against the fabric. Her flawless makeup accentuates her features, while soft waves of hair cascade around her shoulders. "Sure," you reply, unable to resist the pull she has on you, and then embrace her in a quick hug.

Grabbing your arm, Ryujin pulls you closer. "I need you. Now."

"For what?" you respond, unable to suppress a smirk.

She licks her lips. "How about we go somewhere more private?"

You nod, your heartbeat quickening at the thought. It's not like this is your first time with her, but it always feels like it. Her presence has a way of commanding attention, especially when she's looking as sexy as she is now. "Lead the way."

The two of you make your way through the crowd of people, heading towards the stairs. You catch sight of Yuna and Yeji on the second-floor landing, speaking animatedly with a group of people. Avoiding eye contact with Yeji (things are complicated enough as is), you instead make eye contact with Karina in the circle. You're not sure you can decipher her expression so quickly, but she waves at you and smiles, before returning to whatever conversation she's having. Return the gesture and keep following Ryujin, who leads you down the hall. You notice a couple making out against the wall, and Ryujin glances at them before giving you a wink. She pulls you into one of the rooms, closes the door behind you.

The room is shrouded in darkness, with only a faint glow seeping in from underneath the door. "I didn't realize you had such a spacious house," you remark, taking in your surroundings.

"Tsk, I wish. But I don't feel like wasting time talking." She sits down on the edge of the bed, legs crossed. "Come here. I want you."

A moth to a flame, you stand before her. "You're awfully pushy today."

She giggles. "What can I say? Sometimes, I like having you to myself. Especially when you look like that." Every time Ryujin compliments your appearance, a tinge of self-consciousness washes over you, a person who typically pays little attention to clothing choices. Tonight, it's a simple black button-up shirt and jeans. She reaches out and runs her fingers over the fabric of your shirt and tugs at the buttons until they come undone one by one. "Ah, that's better. Let me get a good look at you."

You understand why men and women alike fall under her spell—the precision with which she controls each word, every action, and the way she effortlessly stirs desire within you. Helpless, you stand there as she takes in the sight of your bare chest, her fingers tracing the contours of your stomach. "You're so strong," she murmurs. "I love that about you."

"Yeah, well, I have to keep up with you." You lean forward, place your hands on her shoulders, then push her back until she's lying down. You hover over her. "Heard you've been wearing out some poor soul."

Ryujin smirks as hands slide up your arms. "Oh, you heard about that? I guess word gets around fast."

"Is that all you've been doing while I've been busy?" you ask, your hand caressing her thigh with deliberate slowness.

"I wouldn't say that. I've been keeping myself entertained." She bites her lip. "I know you have. You should have recorded Arin doing anal. That must've been so hot. You know how many times I made myself cum just remembering how you described it? Fuuck, fuck... I'm already getting wet again." 

You palm her breast through her dress, your grip not staying kind for long. You grin at the pretty noise she makes."Yeah, it was pretty amazing. But I think we both know what's even better."

"You're right. I want you inside me."

You slide your hand further up her leg, closer to her core. "Say it."

Whatever might have been in the air, alcohol or static or lust made into the scent of a room, a knock at the door clears it.

"It... it's me. Karina," comes a muffled, hesitant voice.

"Shit," Ryujin mutters. "Just a second." She pushes you back gently and rises to open the door.

And there she is, Karina, standing before you in the flesh, clad in a similarly tight and black outfit as Ryujin. Her dress, though not revealing as much leg, compensates with an open back that adds to her allure. The two girls embrace each other before stepping inside and closing the door. Then Ryujin goes in for a kiss; it's like watching a movie. They start slow, then it gets heated too soon as her body folds into Ryujin's. Maybe Ryujin was right—you could feel a pang of jealousy seeing your girlfriend with your ex. You're not sure you've ever kissed either woman with as much fervor, at least not Karina. When they part, it's as though you've just watched the most beautiful scene in a film, and you're still trying to process the emotions it evoked.

"Hi. Ryujin. Hi, hi," Karina says to Ryujin, her voice quiet. She looks at you. "Hi, Oppa."

"Hey," you reply. "What's up?"

"I saw the both of you heading in here, and I was... I had, had to know..." Already, she's out of breath, worked up.

Ryujin pulls Karina closer, locking the door behind them, and the three of you settle into a circle on the bed. "What did you need to know, Karina?" Ryujin asks, leaning in closer to the other girl.

"I-I'm sorry for following you here," Karina stammers, her gaze fixed on the floor as she folds her hands in her lap.

"Don't worry, you're not interrupting anything," Ryujin assures her with a smile, intertwining their fingers. "We were just talking."

Karina's eyes briefly flicker over your bare torso. "Are you sure?" she asks.

"Mhm. In fact, I think you arrived at the perfect time," Ryujin replies, planting a quick kiss on Karina's cheek. "I think we all need this tonight."

Karina nods slowly. "Okay... if you're sure." After a prolonged pause, she sighs and shakes her head. "I'm sorry if I've ruined things between the two of you. Ever since that date, I've been acting weird, and I'm sure you've noticed. But I don't want to jeopardize your relationship or anything like that."

Exchanging a meaningful glance with Ryujin, who seems amused by the situation, you turn to Karina and speak reassuringly: "It's fine. We understand. And, for what it's worth, you haven't ruined anything. In fact, I think you've helped us." You've reiterated this many times before to Karina, but insecurity lingers, understandably so.

Ryujin grins, sparkling eyes. "Yes, you've been quite the help." She wraps an arm around Karina's waist, pulls her closer, and places a tender kiss on her cheek. "You're amazing."

Karina blushes. "I'm glad."

"Come on," Ryujin says. "We can keep going from where we left off before you so rudely interrupted us."

"I don't know," Karina admits, shaking her head. Her cross necklace bounces against her chest as her gaze lingers on your exposed upper body. You catch the way she bites her lower lip, the way her pupils dilate with desire whenever her eyes meet yours.

"God, you're so cute," Ryujin says, deeply. "You know that?"

"You're not helping," Karina mumbles.

"Do you want me to kiss you again?" Ryujin asks as she cups Karina's face and turns it towards her.

Karina swallows hard. "This is wrong. You know this isn't right. We, what we've been doing, we were just, playing around. Pretending, like... we're not really..."

Ryujin silences her protest. Kisses her deeply. Tongue slips into the other girl's mouth. Karina melts into the kiss while Ryujin's hand slips under her skirt. Ryujin pulls away, panting. "Does that feel wrong?"

"No," Karina breathes out. "Yes. It feels so wrong, oh my god. T-two women, we, shouldn't... no... no, this is bad... this is really bad."

Ryujin puts her lips on Karina's neck. "If you want me to stop, just tell me."

You've never been so aroused in your life, seeing your girlfriend kiss your ex-girlfriend, watching them make out, their bodies pressed together. It's almost surreal, but at the same time, it feels natural. This is how the world is supposed to be, or at least how it's supposed to repay you, Ryujin, and especially Karina. For now, you don't mind being witness to this spectacle, as long as you get a taste of the action.

"Don't stop," Karina whispers, her voice husky. "Please, Ryujin."

Ryujin looks at you, and she knows how badly you want to join in; her eyes tell you that. But you also know she wants to take her time with Karina, to savor every moment. She turns her attention back to the girl beneath her, kisses her again, and explores her mouth with her tongue. Karina is vocal to Ryujin's every touch, starting from fingers running through dark hair, moving down to gentle massages of her neck and shoulder—then, a less gentle kneading of Karina's ample chest over her dress.

There's a plea in Karina's eyes. Please, don't let me moan so deeply, at this lecherous act, at this outright lust. Ryujin does not listen—how can she, above the music outside and the sweet noises coming from her lover? She gropes Karina's breasts with greater intensity and slides her knee between Karina's legs. That knee is a weapon of seduction and lust, and with its power, Ryujin grinds her leg against the crotch of Karina's panties.

Karina's eyes roll back. Ryujin moves down Karina's body, a serpent or a nymph or a succubus, which is enough to make Karina give in and wrap her legs around Ryujin's waist, her arms around Ryujin's neck.

"That's it," Ryujin coos, the temptation of one goddess to make another fall where she stands, assuming she can stand at all when under such a spell. "Give in to your desires."

Your eyes scan over Ryujin's body: smooth thighs wrapped in black stockings, the curve of her ass—which she emphasizes as she sits back and spreads her legs—and a;. "Just let go, baby. Give yourself to me."

You can see the conflict in Karina's eyes. She wants to do as Ryujin says, but she also doesn't want to betray her principles. (What principals, you might ask; this isn't Sunday school.) You wonder how far you can push her. You move closer to them, your hand reaching out and touching Karina's arm. Her eyes snap open with wide-eyed shock.

"It's okay," you say softly. "Just relax."

"But..." Karina trails off, looking away. "I... I can't."

"You can," Ryujin says, kissing her neck. "Because," Ryujin's voice lowers, "you're a good girl."

Karina bites her lip though Ryujin is the one with fangs.

"Yeah, that's it. You're such a good girl." Ryujin licks at her neck, and the girl shivers, but she leans in closer to her touch. "My good girl," Ryujin repeats as if saying it will make it so, and the world has a funny way of answering Ryujin. "Aren't you?"

The devil's flaw was that he was but one creature: you, by contrast, are an accomplice to Ryujin's game. "Yes, you are." You lean down and kiss Karina's cheek, so she shivers at the contact. You press your lips against her ear. "You're a good girl."

Ryujin matches your every peck with one of her own. The twin pair makes her mind melt along with her body, and soon, you've worked her into a fever pitch.

"Fuck," Karina whispers, to make sure the profanity doesn't reach whoever might punish her. She's too loud, too late for that, and you're not complaining. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

You look at Ryujin, who has an approving smile on her lips, which nip at Karina's skin. Between long kisses and short breaths, Ryujin asks, "What do you think Oppa and I were doing when you showed up?"

"I don't know," Karina responds. "I, I really don't know."

Rest your hands on Karina's hips and kiss her deeply. She gasps as you bite her bottom lip, sucking it between your teeth. When you let go, your voice commanding and low, you say, "Be honest. You know. I bet you pictured it as soon as we walked past you. I bet you picture it every time you see me and Ryujin together."

"I..."

"Karina, I know you touch yourself. All the time," Ryujin says, her hand caressing Karina's thigh. "It's obvious. Even a few days ago, you excused yourself to go to the bathroom, and you came back looking all flustered and embarrassed."

Karina's face flushes red, her eyes darting away. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh come on," Ryujin says. "Don't try to hide it. You were thinking about me and Oppa fucking. You wanted to watch. To join us." She kisses Karina again, her hands gripping the girl's hips, pulling her closer. "You want it so bad, don't you? And so you followed us here. You're such a naughty girl."

She denies it for a third time. A rooster crows. "I... I'm sorry," Karina says, her voice barely above a whisper.

"It's okay. I don't mind. I like it." Ryujin smiles, her eyes locked with Karina's. "But you know what I like even more? What I want most? It's for you to finally be honest with yourself. I know you're still holding back. I know you want to give in. Don't you?"

Karina looks between you and Ryujin, her eyes full of uncertainty and desire.

You step in, addressing Ryujin. "Baby. She clearly has a lot on her mind. I have an idea. How about while she thinks about her decision, you and I do what we were planning for a while."

"Mmm," Ryujin smiles at you, steps closer to your embrace. "I like the sound of that, Oppa."

Holding Karina's shoulders, you say, "If you want to go, that's fine. If you want to just watch, that's fine, too. Or, if you want to try something, Ryujin and I can help you, right baby?"

Ryujin nods, and Karina nods too, with all the certainty a mumbling mouse would possess.

"S-so, what do, what do I do?" Karina asks.

Ryujin gestures at her. "Sit on the bed. There, good, thank you." Then, Ryujin wraps her legs around you, her arms embracing your neck and kissing you hard. "You better give Karina a show."

"What did you have in mind?" you ask.

"The usual," Ryujin says, keeping her face close.

The usual involves you and Ryujin having a lot fewer clothes by now; however, after you're disrobed to your bare essentials, you stop Ryujin from doing the same—you like the way that the dress clings to her figure, the fabric hiking up past her thighs, so instead, you only tug away her panties from under the dress.

"This is all about Karina," you say to Ryujin, making sure you're loud enough for your ex to hear. You put Ryujin on the bed and kiss her neck, your hands sliding over her body, moving up her dress. "I'm gonna fuck you while I look at her, pretend like it's her."

"Oh my god, that's so fucking hot," Ryujin says, her voice strained.

You grab Ryujin's jaw and turn her head, so she looks at Karina. You speak in a low whisper in her ear, "I'm gonna make you scream for her."

"Yes, yes, yes..."

The stage is set. Now, it's time to begin the performance. For the first act, much-chided missionary—as much as Ryujin and you love exploring positions, there are times when you just want to be inside each other. This is exactly one of those times, especially in service of poor and sweet Karina, who you're unsure if she's ever seen this much sex in her life. And the promise is that you're fucking Ryujin as you would—will—Karina, so let the virginal girl see how it's done. Ryujin lies on the bed, her dress pushed up to her hips. Inspired by Karina's cleavage, you take the neckline of Ryujin's dress and push it down, revealing her breasts. They're a tad smaller than Karina's, but still nice. Her nipples are hard and flushed pink, a perfect match to the blush on her face.

You kneel between her legs, stroking your cock.

"Is this how you want me?" she asks, putting on a cute voice, while she reaches a hand down to spread her pussy open. "Am I a good girl, Oppa?"

"You're so sexy," you say, leaning forward to kiss her. "I love you."

"Mmm, I love you too," she says, moaning as your cock brushes against her pussy. More severely—"Now fuck me. Fuck me like you want to fuck Karina."

You nod, lining yourself up with Ryujin's entrance, and as promised instead of looking into your sweet girlfriend's eyes, you look over at Karina. She's frozen in place, her mouth hanging open. You give her a smile before pushing inside Ryujin, your cock sliding easily into her wet hole. But as much as you savor the familiar feeling of Ryujin's tight pussy wrapped around your cock, you focus on Karina. Her eyes are wide, her cheeks are flushed, and her breathing is heavy. She looks so gorgeous. You start to thrust slowly into Ryujin, trying to imagine it's her instead.

Karina holds her hands in front of her mouth, watching as you continue to pump into Ryujin. The contrast between you and Ryujin's slutty moans and the innocent gaze of her former lover gives you a sexual cocktail you can never get enough of. Ryujin hooks her legs around your waist, forcing you deeper into her pussy. Your hands grip her hips tightly as you fuck her harder. Your eyes are locked on Karina's, your voice is husky and low.

"I wonder if you're just as tight. Or wet. Don't you want to know? Just come over here. Come feel. You'll see."

Karina swallows hard while her eyes dart between you and Ryujin. She licks her lips, and her fingers fidget nervously. The desire in her eyes, the need to give in to her urges, the hunger is like pain and sorrow and conflict and it might make you apologize if you were a better man but you're a worse man, and happier for being so. Her eyes dart from your face to Ryujin's, and you notice her dress shift the barest amount—was she touching herself?

"Come on," Ryujin says, panting. "Don't be shy."

Karina hesitates, then slowly gets up and approaches the bed. She sits next to you, her eyes fixed on your cock sliding in and out of Ryujin's pussy. You lean over and kiss her cheek, your breath hot against her skin. "You can touch it," you whisper.

She takes a deep breath and places her hand on your cock, gasping as she feels the heat radiating from your member; it's slick with Ryujin's juices. Karina runs her fingers over your shaft, exploring every inch of it. "So big," she murmurs, her voice barely audible.

You thrust harder into Ryujin to earn her nails digging into your back, an often-earned and always-treasured hurt. "Yes, yes, yes," she cries, contorts, and arches her back while her pussy tightens around your cock. "Fuck me harder. Show me how you'd fuck Karina."

Pace picks up. You have your hands on Ryujin's breasts, but as much as you love your girlfriend's body, all you can think about is Karina's more sizeable and weighty and all-around better tits. There is no need to consult Ryujin about this—it is the truth, self-evident and wholly transparent, and you know she would be glad to get a feel or taste of them for herself.

Not letting your imagination go to waste, you turn to Karina, kissing her neck softly, then move down to her chest. She gasps as you cup her breast with your free hand, kneading it firmly, enough that you can feel her nipple hardening against your palm through the fabric of her dress. "Mmm, you're so soft." Your voice is low and husky.

Ryujin's voice is high and whining: "Your cock feels so good." She reaches down to rub her clit. "And her tits... fuck, baby, I want to feel them too."

Despite her suggestion, Karina is locked in place, shuddering under your touch as you continue to squeeze her chest like putty in your hands. Her lips part slightly as she lets out a soft moan; the sight of you fucking Ryujin must be driving her insane, must be the first thing she pictured when she saw you and Ryujin together for the first time, must be replaying in her mind over and over again. You can tell by the way her pupils dilate whenever you thrust into Ryujin's pussy, how her breath quickens as you caress her breast, and how her hips buck involuntarily when you pinch her nipple.

"Can you hear how wet Ryujin is? She's so turned on by the thought of me fucking you. The way I'm treating her like a little toy." Every time your shaft hilts, the sound of squishing and cum dripping along with her, it's a noise that is both obscene and arousing, a noise that can only come from the worldly pleasures of the flesh. You're making a mess out of Ryujin, as always. "So are you, Karina?"

She nods, slower than the pot boiling over, slower than a clock ticking—certainly slower than the heat rising within her body.

Ryujin turns and faces Karina. "He's so big. He's filling me up... and he's gonna fill me up so good. This could be you, Karina. He could fuck you so good, fuck!"

"I... I can't," Karina whispers, her voice trembling. "I shouldn't... my first time... marriage."

"Forget marriage. You want to, don't you?" you ask, kissing her neck.

"I don't know," she says, shaking her head.

"It's okay," Ryujin says, her voice breathy and strained. "We won't tell anyone. Just let go."

You pull out of Ryujin, making her whine in protest. You look at Karina. "Do you want me to fuck you? Do you want to feel my cock inside you?" You take her wrist and place her hand on your dick, to let her feel how hard it is. "You can touch it again. See how much I want you."

Karina lets out a small whimper as she feels your cock throb in her hand. She strokes it with the sureness of a surgeon who's never seen a body, her eyes locked on your anatomy. The call for your name is barely audible, rings in your ears all the same.

"Do you want to see how good I make Ryujin feel? How she screams for me?"

Listen, the delicious desperation in Karina's voice. "I do." She says it like she's responding a different question she's made up in your head—here, you can do it too: do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband—and the excuses fall away from her like dead leaves from the branches in winter. She's thawed out, blissful and necessary to touch and so very warm.

You position yourself behind Karina, kissing her neck softly as you unzip her dress. You push it down her shoulders, revealing the pale skin of her back and her underwear, the matching black bra and panties.

Ryujin massages Karina's core through her panties, a satisfied smirk on her lips as she watches the other girl writhe in pleasure. "You're soaking wet."

"I'm not," Karina protests weakly.

Ryujin continues stroking Karina's pussy over her panties, drawing another moan from the girl beneath her. "Mhm. Sure."

"How about this, baby girl? We can take it slow. Take off your panties, and spread your legs, just a little bit, and I'll just rub the tip of my cock on your pussy. Then we can play with your thighs." You whisper into her ear, "If you want me to stop, just say the word. But I think you want it."

Karina shivers and breathes faster yet just nods silently. Lifts her hips and slides her panties off. Drops them dead to the floor. Spreads her legs.

You've waited so long. Not just tonight. Not just since she last broke up. Not just when you became friends or when you were still in love. It's been months and years of wanting; it's everything, and more. Of all the women who have come and gone from your life, Karina's presence remains undisturbed and ever-present—a ghost that haunts the halls of your heart with a sweet and melancholy song. Her skin is so soft under your fingers as you caress her thigh. You examine her with reverence and wonder, most of all her pussy, because of all the women you've seen (and you've seen a lot), Karina has the nicest pussy, a perfect and pink pussy, one that is begging to be filled by your cock.

"That's it," you murmur. Run your fingers through her wet folds and grab her ass with one hand. "Such a good girl."

You press the tip of your cock against her entrance. "Wait, w-wait," Karina stammers, her eyes wide with panic.

Ryujin strokes her hair and grabs your shaft, aligning it away from Karina's virginity. "Shh, it's okay. Just relax." She presses your cock against Karina's clit, rubbing it up and down, and Karina gasps, her body tensing. "Does that feel good?"

"Do you like it when I rub your pussy with my cock?" you ask.

"Mmm… yes," Karina says.

"Good." Ryujin keeps stroking your cock against Karina's sensitive nub, which draws another moan from the girl. Karina squirms and her face flushes a deep crimson. "Let him play with your tits."

"Oh my god," Karina gasps, her hands gripping the sheets tightly. You reach around and cup her breasts through her bra—you're closer to her nipples this way, can pinch them between your fingers easily—before you finally free them from their restraints. They're so much softer than Ryujin's—softer than anything you've ever felt. Your fingers knead the tender flesh of her chest, reveling in the way they fit perfectly in your palms, and the nubs are a stiff pink against her pale skin. "Oh god."

"I think she likes this," you say with a chuckle. "I'm going to make you feel so good." You push your cock between her thighs, rub it against her pussy, and savor the way she clamps her legs together. "Fuck, that's hot."

Karina whimpers, squirms underneath you, but you grip her hips to keep her still. As you slide from in and out of her thighs, Ryujin bends over, placing kisses on Karina's waist—then her mouth aims lower. Karina cries out as Ryujin begins to lick her pussy. You've never seen your girlfriend eat with this much gusto before, slurping and sucking at the other girl's juices like they're the tastiest dessert on earth. Without a doubt, Ryujin loves what she's doing.

"Oh god, oh fuck!" Karina does too.

You thrust through Karina's legs, and Ryujin sucks on your tip as it pokes out. Karina is falling apart at the seams, amidst the friction of your length, the ministration of Ryujin's mouth, and just from how guilty and great it all feels.

"Good, good girl," Ryujin says. "This is okay, right? You can still be a good girl."

"I... yes," Karina says breathily. "I'm, I'm a good girl."

You suck on Karina's neck, nibbling at her flesh as your cock grinds against her soaked slit, wet enough to make a mess of her thighs, of Ryujin's lips, of your dick. It could be so easy to just thrust your entire length inside her, until you're balls deep, and do your job. You can taste her nervousness. You can feel it in the way her body tenses, the way she grips the sheets with white knuckles.

"You want to cum so bad, don't you?"

Karina only replies to Ryujin with a whimper. Ryujin smiles as she runs her tongue along Karina's pussy again, then when she suctions hard on her clit, Karina cries out. "Since you're such a good girl..." Ryujin says. "You shouldn't cum. A good girl shouldn't cum... unless Oppa's cock is inside you."

Spreading Karina's legs, Ryujin takes control of your cock to suck and taste Karina's body fluids off of it. Karina can only watch with wide eyes as Ryujin cleans your shaft. She's in even more disbelief when Ryujin pushes her aside to give you a more earnest blowjob, stroking your dick hard with her free hand while she peppers your length with sloppy kisses, especially along the ridge. You can't hold back a barrage of expletives.

Lying next to you in awe, Karina has eyes like a deer in the headlights.

"Do you want something, Karina?" Ryujin asks.

"I want... want to cum."

"Tsk, tsk, didn't I already tell you? Good girls don't get to cum unless it's on Oppa's dick."

Karina's eyes dart between you and Ryujin. She swallows hard, then nods slowly. "Okay."

"Okay?" you ask, stunned at the sudden acquiescence.

"I, I can't take it anymore. I need to cum. Please, Oppa. Fuck me. I want to cum. I need it so bad. I'll do anything."

"Such a good girl," Ryujin says, her voice husky. She positions herself behind Karina, wrapping her arms around the girl's body and cupping her breasts. Karina is on her back, just as Ryujin had been before, but now she receives Ryujin's continual praise. "You're so beautiful. You're such a good girl. You deserve this."

You kneel before Karina and take in the sight of her lying there, looking up at you with wide eyes full of uncertainty. That was the same uncertainty as the first time you asked her out, years ago. The uncertainty when you tried the first time to get into her pants—she's never let you go very far past kissing. The same uncertainty when the two of you had to break up. That uncertainty when she learned you and Ryujin were dating. And now, as Ryujin deepens the kiss, your gaze locks with Karina's, and she's just as nervous and aroused as she's ever been. You push Karina's knees apart and run your fingers through her wet folds.

Karina watches as you line yourself up with her entrance, her chest heaving as she holds her breath in anticipation.

"Are you ready?" you ask, your voice low and husky. Your hand travels from her hip to her smooth, flat stomach. Then, you grab Ryujin's hand as it rests on Karina's soft and heavy chest, now exposed to the air and free to be touched, squeezed, and played with by all of you. You can't believe you're going to be doing this—your ex and your current girlfriend, all while you watch in awe. This is the life of the party, not the loud music, nor the rowdy crowds, nor the alcohol. This is real.

Karina looks at your cock, unable to believe the size of it, or unable to look you in the eye—Ryujin takes hold of your shaft and rubs it against Karina's pussy, and at the same time, grabs Karina's chin to force her to look into your eyes. "Answer him," she says.

"I'm ready," Karina murmurs.

"What? We couldn't hear you, babe," you say with a smirk. You press the tip of your cock against her entrance and push it inside an inch, making her gasp as you stretch her pussy.

"Oh my god" sounds perfect out of Karina's mouth, a sobbed, whiny, desperate moan of a blasphemer who needs to be redeemed in your arms, so different from the deep and throaty moans of Ryujin. It's so cute, just like Ryujin said. A cute virgin girl who's so caught up in this moment, in how your length fills her up like the most worthwhile sin. And as you disappear within Karina's folds, inch by inch, she stares up at you with a mixture of pain and pleasure, her body shaking with every new sensation.

"Say it," Ryujin says firmly.

Karina swallows hard and looks into your eyes. Her voice is barely above a whisper, "Please fuck me, Oppa."

That's enough for you, enough for Ryujin to rub her clit and pinch her nipple and suck on her neck; so the fact that you're a handful of strokes in and she's already cumming isn't unexpected, but her reaction is. She thrashes around under you as wave after wave of ecstasy hits her. It's all you can do to hold her steady, gripping her hips and burying yourself balls deep inside her. Such a powerful climax must've been made even more so by how you continue to pound into her. She's overwhelmed, overloaded—over the edge—with pleasure.

"Oh god, oh god," she chants, her body trembling. "Oh my god."

It's almost a pity Karina cums so easily, instead of having her work for it, like a good girl; but it's only the first round of the night, and she has all the time to learn how to earn an orgasm.

"Woah," Ryujin says, expression impressed as she watches Karina squirm. "She came fast."

Karina opens her eyes to meet your gaze. "I... I'm sorry."

"You're sorry? No, it's okay," Ryujin reassures her.

Karina nods slowly, tears welling up in her eyes.

You take advantage of how you're still buried within Karina's depths to reach down and kiss away one of her tears. Something inside you makes you think that isn't the reason why she's apologizing, but it's close enough for now. It doesn't matter. You're going to fuck the guilt out of Karina until she takes the lord's name only in vein as it molds her pussy. "You can worry about apologizing after you show us how long you can keep up with us," you say, smirking as you pull out of her slowly, until the head of your cock is the only part of your shaft that still fills her entrance.

Ryujin runs her hand through Karina's hair, wiping away her tears and looking into her eyes. "You're so sexy." Her voice is a seductive whisper. "You know that?" She reaches down and caresses Karina's cheek before pressing her lips against hers, kissing her deeply. "Do you know how long I've wanted this?"

Karina breaks eye contact, unable to hold Ryujin's intense stare. "I... I had no idea," she replies in a whisper.

You thrust into Karina again, burying your length inside her and drawing a cry of pleasure from the girl beneath you. You repeat this slow movement again and again and again—for every thrust, Ryujin kisses Karina on the lips, cheeks, neck, ear—while whispering praises into her ears, while making her feel like an angel sent from heaven while keeping her mind on her and you as you take her virginity. You can see how badly she wants to hold onto the last shreds of whatever holding her back, to resist Ryujin's advances, but the more you and Ryujin work in tandem to force these moans out of her throat, the less she holds onto.

Oh, you have plenty to hold onto. You could spend the rest of your life pontificating about Karina's tits, and it feels like the rest of your life because if you die right on the hills that you're sinking fingers into, massaging—even smacking to leave your mark and watch how they recoil—then you'd die the greatest man to have ever lived. And what else is there to be?

Where else is there to be but where you are now, to be in Karina's pussy, clenching and unclenching around your dick like your cock is a part of her body? (Might as well be.)

If this were a place, you can imagine the city.

By the trumpet cry, the walls have fallen—shit, if you had any shame, it'd be gone by the time Ryujin's mouth got to work; Karina is no greater than you as a mess of moans and sobs, murmurs, and curses as she lies there on her back with a smile on her face and a glint in her eyes while Ryujin moves between the two of you to capture either clit or cock in her mouth, exchanging between the two. Whenever you're focused on pistoning inside Karina's pussy, she's lapping away at whatever is exposed to the air. Whenever you pull out for a break or to change positions, Ryujin takes a few moments to tongue Karina's slit or to taste her juices off your cock. So how could there be resistance; how could there be any hesitation in Karina's body as she lies back, letting you take complete control of her body while Ryujin does as she pleases, a perfect storm of two dominant lovers ravaging this sweet, submissive flower who had been too long neglected.

Now, over embarrassment or guilt—Karina is a slut at heart. No, a bitch. A bitch who can't stop crying and moaning out your name because the two of you are putting in work to make her feel so fucking good. And she takes it, and she takes it, and she takes it. Would she have ever acted like this with anyone else? You don't think, even alone, you could ever turn Karina into such a sloppy, slutty mess. You can only guess that, paired with Ryujin, this is who she truly is.

This is why you and your co-conspirator are so compatible in this regard. You don't need to explain to Ryujin that you want to change positions, or that you're doing so because you need some reprieve; your eyes are enough for her to understand. She's already moving to help as you get Karina in an appropriate position, on all fours so that you can fuck her doggystyle from behind. Of course, it also happens that this lets Ryujin slide underneath Karina and eat her pussy out while your cock slides in and out of her entrance.

There is a hunger pang in Karina's gaze as she looks back. The poor woman drools, saliva dripping onto Ryujin's stomach. It's like she doesn't even notice because the way your cock slides into her so easily is too good, and she has to moan every time your balls slap against her thighs. The best thing about the sight of Karina like this—hair stuck to her face, makeup smeared across her cheeks, body covered in sweat—is the sheer bliss written across her features as she takes whatever pleasure the two of you offer.

Then you look down and see Ryujin's expression. It's not one of lust or desire or satisfaction, but one of amusement. She looks positively amused that you're giving everything to this girl, fucking her like you mean it, and she continues to be amused when Karina lowers her head into the bed, between Ryujin's thighs—Karina wants so badly to taste her girlfriend's pussy, but she doesn't know how, with no idea what to do or how to ask, and again, Ryujin just knows all this by the dumbfounded happy look on your face. To be fair, you're mainly in this unbridled glee at the sight of Karina face-down ass-up, and of Ryujin's face between Karina's legs—but it is true that you've got some sort of telepathy going on, because without a word you both reach a consensus in your minds.

"Don't you want to eat her pussy out?" you ask, tugging gently on Karina's hair so that she raises her head back up. A reprieve from getting fucked like crazy, while you lay your shaft flat on Ryujin's face. "I can smell how much she's been needing it."

"Your dick, dick, it's so... ah, hngh, put it back in, put it back in.!"

"Don't try to think about what Oppa's doing," Ryujin coos. "I'm right here." She wraps her arms around Karina's hips and pulls her closer, bringing her pussy closer to the other girl's lips, and you pull back to give them room. "Right here."

You're fine to sit back and enjoy the show while you watch Karina sixty-nine atop your girlfriend. Karina, still unsure what she's doing, stares down at Ryujin for a few long seconds before finally leaning in to give her an experimental lick. Then she closes her eyes and loses herself to the moment as she tastes Ryujin's essence for the first time.

"Good girl," Ryujin sighs as Karina's tongue enters her pussy. "Oppa is so jealous right now, he loves eating pussy. But your tight virgin hole was too good for me to pass up. If you don't know what to do, just follow what I'm doing."

The sight of Ryujin with her lips pressed against Karina's mound while Karina's head bobs up and down between Ryujin's legs makes you incredibly hard, but since you were already as hard as a diamond from fucking Karina so much, you're not sure what lab is going to need your dick, but there must be one doing incredibly important science that will save humanity that could use you for a research study. Karina has never done this before, because you hear her complain about her jaw and how it hurts, but she is so fucking cute.

You can hear her moans as Ryujin's mouth works its magic on Karina's folds, and the way Ryujin rolls her hips against Karina's face says plenty about how she's feeling too. You can understand: even the most amateur mouth is enough when you're getting worked so enthusiastically over. It's just a fact of life.

Maybe you do know guilt, even if you don't feel it, understand it as one might a distant cousin or a person you elected, but never met personally; it doesn't stop you from interjecting into the action with your cock sliding into the space between them: Karina's tender pussy lips and Ryujin's greedy mouth becomes the two cushion that you are sandwiched in-between. The sensation of being between them, the juices that drip onto your length, the saliva that moistens it, the moans that surround it, it is like nothing you've felt before. You're no stranger to having your shaft between two pairs of lips; whenever Ryujin invites one of her many friends to a threesome, there will usually be some oral exchange or another between whoever is getting railed by you and your girlfriend, but this is so different. This is so much more intimate. You look down and see Karina looking back and up at you.

Karina's eyes widen as you thrust your cock between her folds. "Ah... ahh, what?" She turns her head and stares at you with wild eyes, her expression full of surprise and confusion. "What... what are you doing?" She's asking, but she's also grinding back against you, making it clear that she enjoys the feeling of your length sliding along her folds.

"Mmm," Ryujin murmurs against Karina's mound. Her lips press against your cock and she smiles before letting out a soft moan, sucking the tip of your shaft. "This is so hot."

Karina gasps as Ryujin sucks on your cock, taking it into her mouth and licking your length with her tongue. She keeps grinding back against you—too late for her, your dick is down your girlfriend's throat—and thus in her depravity, Karina rubs her pussy against Ryujin's neck where it bulges with every push forward. Your girlfriend is throating you while she gets her pussy eaten out by a woman who should be innocent of such acts of debauchery—yet, one night is all it took for Karina to realize how wrong she's been. There's no use praying away the gay (praying bye to the bi, by the by), not when there's sin in its place. But in truth, this is not one night but the culmination of so much pent-up tension and need. So much waiting around. So much taking care of and consoling, and it's not that you were doing these on purpose, but if you had one unspoken truth between you and Ryujin—

It's that she and any man or any woman, other than you and Ryujin, had no chance of working out by your hands, by hers—but here, tonight, all of those months of patience have paid off for you and your lover. It doesn't matter if Karina didn't want to do this, didn't expect to do this; this was always meant to be her fate like missionaries planting the seeds of their religion into the soil of native lands.

You're anxious you might plant your seed in a place already well-tilled by yourself: Ryujin's stomach. It is not long before both of them start cumming like crazy, and all you can do is keep pounding your cock against your girlfriend's throat—as much as you told yourself you would hold back—while Karina squeals against her pussy, your shaft getting coated in saliva and pussy juice as the two of them orgasm together. You suppose that Karina's oral skills were only sufficient in making Ryujin cum because of the way your cock deprived your girlfriend of air—the orgasms whenever you choke Ryujin are always so intense; you're certain you'd find the same results if Karina's mouth wasn't being put to other uses.

Ryujin finally pulls away, gasping for air as you release her hair. Your cock slides out of her mouth and you slap it across her face a few times before turning your attention back to Karina. She looks back at you with a dazed expression, her body trembling from her climax. You grab her hips and thrust your cock into her tight pussy, making her cry out as you fill her to her wit's end.

"I'm sorry," she says, looking back at you with tears streaming down her cheeks. "I'm sorry, I couldn't hold it back anymore."

Ryujin laughs as she kisses Karina passionately and tastes herself on the other girl's lips. "Don't apologize, baby girl," she says between kisses. "It's okay." She puts her hand on Karina's chest and massages her tits gently as she continues to kiss her. Ryujin turns to look at you, her hand on Karina's cheek.

This is that lie-down and get-ready-to-be-ridden position, and your blood has been boiling all night, ready to be unleashed. Karina and Ryujin both have the kind of ass that makes you want to spank it red until they cry and beg you to stop, but tonight's not about that. Tonight, as Ryujin slides onto your lap, taking your cock inside her with ease, you know there's no stopping either of them.

Normally, you would be saddened by the fact you can't see your girlfriend's face, but it's a fair trade-off, if only for the smacking sounds of Karina and Ryujin's kisses. And then, there's the way that Karina leaves a trail of girl-cum along your abs, as she first takes whatever friction she can find between your abdomen and her cunt, grinding along your stomach; after that, however, she's set on making your face her personal seat, which is fine by you. This is the throne of a god, not one to sit on and rule and dictate and limit, but one to be as, to transform into, to understand and connect with the people who pray for your attention—and Karina wants nothing more than that connection right now.

"I'm sorry I didn't do better," she says between kisses, holding your face in her hands. "I'm sorry I came so fast. I'm sorry we didn't do this sooner. I'm sorry with being with..." She chokes back a sob before continuing. "I'm sorry."

You've never needed an apology, and less so right now: your girlfriend is currently riding your cock like it's going out of style, and Karina manages to say all that without looking at your face—how can she? You can't even laugh at the irony, your every breath dedicated to what oxygen you can get before diving back into the wet heat of her pussy.

"Do you want to be a good girl?" Ryujin asks breathlessly as she bounces up and down on your shaft, her ass slapping against your thighs.

"I want to be a good girl," Karina murmurs as she grinds her pussy against your mouth.

Ryujin grabs Karina's ass and squeezes it tightly. "Stop saying you're sorry," she says between gasps.

Karina looks down at you and bites her lip. "I... I don't know how."

Ryujin pauses her ride, leaning forward and running her hands along Karina's body. "Well, you can beg to ride this beautiful, fffugh, dick..." Her hands move down to your stomach, and she starts grinding back and forth against your cock. "I love it." She turns and smiles at Karina, "He loves it when a girl rides him, and he loves it when I ride him the most. You know how many girls get to ride Oppa? But I'm the best at it."

You understand this angle. If there's one sin Karina might admit to, it's jealousy. She was always a bit competitive with you—nothing too malicious, just a need to be the best; and you're fine to indulge her. You grab Karina's ass and slap it gently, then squeeze her cheeks and spread them apart. "She's right, you know," you say, your voice low and husky.

Ryujin chuckles, shaking her head. "Of course I am," she says with a smirk, turning to look back at you.

You play with Karina's ass for a few moments before grabbing her hips and pulling her closer, bringing your face back to her mound. You press your lips against her pussy and kiss her tenderly. Your tongue slips between her folds and you lick her slowly. She tastes so sweet.

"Oh god..." Karina gasps, gripping your hair tightly as you lick her pussy. "I have to ride it. It looks, so, so good."

"You have to?" Ryujin asks in a mocking tone. "Oh, so now you're getting bold?"

"I want it," Karina whines. "Please?"

"You'll stop apologizing?" Ryujin asks as she moves off your lap, your cock still slick with her juices.

Karina nods, unable to look away from your length. She crawls up to your lap and elects to ride you reverse cowgirl, but only after Ryujin guides her in with a hand on the small of Karina's back. You don't mind either way—you're glad for this angle, for the underrated sight of Karina's back or her ass. You could trace the bumps of her spine or the dips in her waist. Though the position is naturally no novelty, this woman and all her impossibly perfect curves are, even if only for this night. Her ass is perfect; she has a perfect figure; and you love every inch of her skin, from her smooth shoulders to her soft thighs to her slender legs. Ryujin was right—you do love watching girls ride your cock, especially when they're new to it, when they haven't learned this choreography yet.

Karina has no trouble getting into the rhythm as she works you over like she was born to ride dick. Ryujin is there to support Karina through the process, running her hands along the other girl's body and kissing her passionately as she bounces up and down on your cock. Karina turns to look at you, brows creased, mouth wide open, lips wet with saliva. She can't stop moaning as your cock stretches her tight pussy. It's so adorable the way she tries to be quiet and ends up squealing instead. Her eyes roll back as Ryujin bites her neck and grinds against her body.

"Goddamn, girl," Ryujin whispers breathlessly. "You're so fucking sexy. Maybe you deserve his cum after all."

"Hngh, thank you," Karina says.

Ryujin laughs and grabs Karina's hair to move it out of the way before leaning in to suck on her neck. You can imagine what a mess it's making on her face, especially as sweat drips down her temples. The thing about Karina is that she might be a sloppy mess, but she's still just as pretty as ever, even if that prettiness is marred by the sweat that mats her hair, and the way she looks completely blissed out—even more so than earlier—with her eyes rolled back and her lips parted.

You thrust up into Karina's pussy, making her cry out. Your hands move to her hips and you lift her body up and down along your shaft. She looks at you with tears streaming down her cheeks and smiles.

"Yeah? Thank me?" Ryujin asks. You feel her weigh down against your thigh as she straddles you from the side, sits atop it, grinds back and forth while she reaches behind Karina to fondle your balls.

"Please," Karina begs in a soft voice, looking at you with wide eyes. "Please give me your cum."

You've had your climax postponed for a while, with the break from fucking Karina and the time Ryujin has taken to warm you back up. You're not sure how you'll be able to hold out any longer. Then Ryujin gives a glance. "Cum," she mouths.

That's all you need really. Karina twerks on your cock, forgetting everything she's learned, repeating profanity. All you need. An asscheek to spank and spank, or a breast to squeeze and squeeze until you can see the red handprint on her body, to feel that weight in your palm. A loving and supporting girlfriend to help you out with some verbal encouragement. All you need, and if you asked for anything more from up above, they'd answer like you just knocked the gates of heaven at 3:21 AM, and there's good Saint Peter asking:

"Well, now what? Oh, you want more?"

✦✧✦✧✦✧

AFF, AO3

Another sane Levi fic as always.

[astrow1zar6]

Venus Sign Observations- 011

Venus in Leo’s are those girls in hs you think “how early does she get up to get ready?” You rarely ever see this placement have ugly days they are all so well kept & usually smell incredible. The types to wear their hair in really trendy styles, wear designer outfits and perfumes. BIG on luxury. In a relationship they LOVE being shown off and given lots of attention and compliments. they also love when their partner begs for their attention.

Venus in Libras are really easy to impress lol, all you really have to be is semi attractive. My libra Venus friend every time we go out would be like “OMG THAT GUY IS SOOO CUTE” but say that about 15 other guys that day😂 the women can be VERY obsessed with the opposite sex. They are such flirty people.

Venus in Taurus gives conventional housewife vibes lol. They are into classic feminine hobbies such as sewing, cooking, making jewelry/ clothes, art. If you marry a women with this placement you hit the jackpot.

Venus in Scorpio men tend to be cheaters. Everyone talks about their loyalty but they are only really loyal once they feel they’ve truly found their soulmate (in most cases are rare cuz they’re picky) a lot get bored of their relationships once the passion dies (similar to Aries Venus). They tend to prefer emotionally complex women to keep them on their toes.

Venus in Aquarius’s tend to look really good with circle frame glasses. They pull it off soo well. Also if you have this placement and are looking for new fashion ideas. Look up cyberpunk/Dystopian aesthetic. Y’all would look amazing in that type of style.

Most Venus in Virgos I meet are not big on the physical aspect of love. It takes them SOOO long to open up physically. This causes a lot to get friend zoned. They express their love very differently from most Venus signs which can cause some confusion in their relationships. They are big on acts of service & the intellectual side of love.

Venus in Aries usually always makes the first move when liking someone ( man or woman) they can jump into relationships fast just for it to end just as quick. They really date for the excitement and fun of having a new crush. But once that it becomes deeper than a crush and gets serious most usually back out. Also they can get turned on my arguing. When things become dull they will normally create some issue to keep the sparks alive. To more sensitive signs this can be very draining.

Venus in Geminis are very hard to pin down. I notice their feeling for their partners never seem quite genuine? I notice even in relationships they try to seek out attention from other people. They need a lot of mental stimulation to keep their full attention on one person. And if they’re partner fails to stimulate them they’ll find someone else who can. It’s very rare they catch true feelings for someone but when they do they’re surprisingly loyal.

Venus in Pisces kinda irritate me lol. The men are always talking to different women. They are big on following their heart, but if their hearts tells them to talk to five girls they would😭 it’s very rare to see the men of this placement settle with one woman. The women of this placement I notice are amazing lovers but tend to give it to usually terrible neglectful partners:( I’ve seen women with their placements bust their ass for men that barely give them the time of day.. y’all deserve a lot better than that.

Sagittarius Venus’s tend to date people who are a different ethnicity as them or date from foreign countries. They have a deep appreciation for culture and traveling. So they may also travel with their partner a lot. This is imo the most loyal Sagittarius placement. I’ve seen people be in relationships for years with this placement.

Cancer Venus’s are extremely sweet and nurturing in a relationship. Gives Mommy vibes 🥺. The types to bring you home cooked meals get your bath water running. A lot a notice tend to be very submissive/vanilla. They require a lot of emotional attention and babying even themselves. They types to prefer at home dates compared to traveling or going out.

Capricorn Venus tends to take partnerships like it’s a job (similar to Virgo Venus) they see attending to their partners needs more like a duty which is why they can appear cold in their affections even though they mean well. Emotionally it can be harder to connect with this sign but once they trust you they’ll show you a very sensual romantic side they’ve been hiding. They mostly express love through gift giving. These partners give some of the best most expensive gifts. Just know you’ll be taken good care of if this placement loves you 👌🏽

Venus in Scorpios look AMAZING in black. Any dark aesthetic look great on them. And they may prefer partners with a darker aesthetic as well

Venus in Aries women tend to feel more comfortable having male friends than other women. Usually we’re tomboys growing up

Libra Venus’s are usually really good at makeup or look amazing with a full face of makeup.

[loveshotzz]

I guess it’s never really over

mechanic!steve harrington x fem!reader exes to lovers

chapter one -

Late arrivals and big asks

A broken down car, a party at Reefer Rick’s, and a bandaid that needs to be ripped off.

warnings: 18+ drinking, smoking, lots of tension, some king!steve angst in the form of a flashback.

wc: 10.1k

series masterlist | series playlist

June - 

The air is sticky, thick with the kind of humidity only Indiana could have at 9:30 pm. An annoyed breath expands into your lungs as you lean against your car that refuses to do anything but sputter. Despite your irritation, your glossed lips twitch with the nostalgia that creeps into your heart because after all these years it still smells the same.

Crossing your arms, your eyes trail over the clear night sky not polluted with the kind of man-made smog that blankets the city and the stars shimmer like diamonds in its absence. The warmth of the overrun engine is still hot on your exposed calves, the light breeze making the bottom of your sundress dance across the tops of your thighs. White beams emerge, cutting through the dark at the top of the hill, followed by the roar only a tow truck can make, and this time, the smile you fought off before spreads wide across your face.

Robin.

Butterflies wake up in a frenzy deep in your gut, with nerves that twitch from your fingertips at the thought of finally getting to hug your best friend after months apart. You push off the side of your car as the truck approaches, eyes squinting to make out the second outline in the front cabin as it pulls over. You recognize the messy mane of hair that could only belong to Eddie Munson in the driver seat almost instantly and his dimple filled smile brings you back to memories you thought you’d long forgotten. 

“Well, well, well, would you look at what the cat dragged in!” Robin sticks her head out of the window with a wide grin as the big tires slow to a stop in front of your car, “are my eyes deceiving me or is my best friend in the entire world actually in Hawkins, Indiana right now?” 

The rasp in her voice sounds just like it does over the phone and despite the roll of your eyes, your cheeks hurt from how happy you are.

“Shut up, don’t act like you didn’t guilt me out here by saying the fate of your future depends on it.” Uncrossing your arms, you open them wide, “I made the ultimate sacrifice for you, so are you gonna hug me or not?”

Dramatic? Yes. But it works like a charm when she flings open the passenger door and charges at you in a mess of honey blond waves and freckles, almost tackling you with the force of her impact wrapping her arms around you.

Too distracted by Robin, you almost don’t notice the creak of the driver's side door or the filled out frame of the man that used to be a lanky teenage boy walking past as Eddie starts to attach your car to his truck. He’s taller than you remembered even bending down, and despite the navy blue coveralls, you can still see that his pale skin is littered with even more tattoos.

“I can’t believe my guilt trip worked!” Robin beams, finally letting you go, her whole body practically vibrating with excitement as she claps her ring clad hands together.

“I really can’t believe it either,” you laugh nervously, the reality of what it means to come back starting to set in after seeing just one familiar face, but this isn’t high school anymore and you’re definitely not the same person you were five years ago either.

“Thanks so much, Eddie,” you break the ice when he stands back up, and the sound of your voice has his big brown eyes warmed with gold light up just like his face when he turns his full attention onto you. Scruff filled dimples poking even bigger holes in his cheeks.

“It’s my pleasure, sweetheart, I almost didn’t believe Robin when she called me. I thought it was a prank.” He beckons you over with open arms, “now that I know it’s not, you have exactly 10 seconds to get over here and hug me before I change my mind.”

There’s zero hesitation about giving into his ‘demand’ and when your arms wrap around his waist, you’re brought back to afternoons in the woods behind the school with heavy lidded eyes and lopsided grins. 

“Your own auto shop, huh?” You smile up at him, pulling away, “Eddie Munson, the business owner.”

He rolls his eyes but the pink tint that colors in his cheeks tells you he appreciates the praise.

“Yeah, something like that.” He chuckles, “Got a soft spot for that old man in the trailer park, couldn’t bring myself to leave.”

Your heart warms at the fondness that drips from his ton. 

“Okay, as sweet as this little reunion is. You’re late, and we have a party to get to.” Robin interrupts snatching your keys out of your hand, dropping them in Eddie’s.

“A party?” You snap confused, and Eddie takes that as his queue to walk away with a knowing smirk.

“Yes, this is the summer of fun and reckless abandon, this is the last summer of our youth before we have to be adults. Do you understand me?” Her fingers are digging into your shoulders by the end of her rant, with the kind of look in her eyes that you’re absolutely going to have to revisit after a few weeks. 

“This is the part where I remind you that I graduated college last year.” 

Your best friend scoffs at you.

“Just humor me, okay? It’s your grand homecoming.” She pushes out her bottom lip, and makes her eyes big in a way she knows you can’t say no to.

“Fine.” You huff, making her finally let you go with the kind of pleased smirk that tells you she never thought she was going to lose to begin with.

“Great, it’s time to rip the bandaid off anyway.” Robin practically mumbles the last part turning on her heel to head back to the truck.

It takes a minute for her words to stick to your ears and their meaning to ring loud through your head, but when they do it feels like the air is stolen from your lungs. 

“Rip what bandaid off, Robin?!” 

It’s his name tightens in your chest but you refuse to say it, even after all this time it burns coming back up. 

“Since you had to drive for so long, I’ll sit in the middle because I’m just that good of a friend, you know?” She winks with a shit eating grin before pulling herself up and disappearing inside the cab of the truck, ignoring your question, like she’s not asking you to do the one thing you said you’d never do. 

See Steve Harrington again.

I tell myself, ‘draw the line.’

You wonder if Robin can feel the daggers you’re glaring into the back of her head as the two of you walk up the driveway to Rick’s house. Gravel crunching hard under your converse as you keep up with her black combat boots. She looks effortlessly cool in her high waisted jean shorts, and her oversized army green jacket covered in patches. You’d compliment her if you weren’t so mad.

“I can’t believe you guys still have parties here.” You scoff, making your sour attitude known, but your best friend ignores it with ease.

“I can’t believe you forgot to have fun. Don’t you live in the city?” Turning around with a smirk, she can’t help but laugh at the look on your face. 

She stops abruptly, almost making you run into her leaving you both just close enough to the party to hear the bass of the music spilling through the cracks in the windows. The low chatter of people echoes through the trees that surround you and bounce off the lake not that far away. The thought of hearing the calm baritone of his voice mixed in makes your chest tight with the kind of nerves that dare you to high tail it and run.

“It’s been five years.” Robin’s playful demeanor breaks and becomes pleading with a kind of desperation you’ve never seen from her before. “He’s not the person you knew in high school, I need you to understand that. You think I’d call someone like that my best friend?”

“Hey!-“ You object at the title, and it makes her lips twitch despite serious lines that crease her face.

“Stop, you know what I mean,” her painted fingers grab onto yours, squeezing them lightly, “please, just give him a chance. I’m not asking you to get back together or even be friends, just get along enough not to kill each other this summer. I can’t choose between you. I won’t.”

The genuine love she has for Steve is apparent in the way her ocean blue eyes threaten to drown you in their sincerity, and you can’t find it in yourself to say no to her. 

“Fine.” You accept your defeat in practically a whisper, but it makes your best friend squeal nonetheless. The giddiness from before coming back tenfold as she links arms with you, continuing your way up to the house. 

It’s just a summer, right?

The crowd gets bigger as more people start to come into view, between groups smoking cigarettes outside, couples arguing by cars, others making out against them. The smell of beer gets more pungent with each step, the atmosphere a stark contrast to the way the moon glows against the peaceful waters behind the madness of the house. 

Salt N Pepa’s ‘Push It’ plays loud enough for you to make out the words when you reach the front steps, walking through clouds of tobacco smoke to get to the unlocked door. The interior hasn’t changed at all since high school, the smell of stale lime and tequila stinging your nose. The bass of the music vibrates under your shoes as Robin unlinks her arms and you have to fight the urge to yank her back.

“Drinks or …Steve first?” She asks, her nerves about the situation finally showing themselves as she bites at her thumbnail. 

“Absolutely drinks! Is that a trick question?” You half whisper, half yell, looking around as if saying his name out loud might summon him.

“Okay! Okay!” Robin hisses, grabbing your wrist, leading you towards the familiar path to Rick’s kitchen.

Suddenly you wonder what your makeup looks like after a long day of traveling in your car, your fingers tugging at the bottom of your dress before adjusting the front of it so it sits just right. You itch to grab your lip gloss that’s tucked into the side of your bra, but you don’t want to deal with the look you’d get if you went for it.

Rounding the corner to the living room, your heart sinks to the bottom of your stomach before you even have a chance to stop it when your eyes meet that messy head of chestnut hair, and a pair of hot pink nails tangled inside it. 

“Oh - I - god dammit.” Robin groans, when you're met with number two on your list, making out with a pretty blond on the couch.

Despite the years and distance, there’s still a sting that you feel in the corners of your eyes. It’s not enough for any tears to fall, there’s none left for him anymore, but it’s enough for the anger you’ve clung to since the day he broke your heart to boil hot under your skin. It singes the wings of the butterflies that try to take flight when you see the way his frame has filled out, how he’s somehow grown more handsome than the last time you saw him. 

Robin coughs, squeezing your wrist in reassurance.

“Hey, - uh, Steve.” The sound of his name catches his attention, long brown lashes fluttering open to reveal the deep coffee of his eyes that widen when they lock with yours for the first time in years. 

His lips pull from the blond’s with a loud smack, leaving a small trail of glitter on the side of his mouth that he tries to wipe away quickly with his wrist. Black ink you’ve never seen before looks bold on his tanned skin that glows like it’s been freshly kissed by the sun. 

His gaze wanders up and down your body like he’s unsure you’re actually real, and if it wasn’t for the obvious shock of your arrival and the way the color seems to drain from his face, you’d snap at him for the way it lingers over your curves. 

“Um, Robin, what the fuck?” The sound of his voice makes your heart skip a beat, and again when his hand drags through his hair just how you remembered.

“Surprise?” She shrugs, wincing when he scoffs loudly and the warmth that went missing floods his cheeks, turning them bright red. The blond next to him eyes you up while she clutches harder to his waist, and you can’t stop the rise of your brows and the giggle that bubbles past your lips because of it.

Steve’s head snaps towards you, something softening the moss that hides in his eyes when he hears the noise despite the sarcasm that drips from it, and you really get to look at him for the first time since high school graduation. 

God, you wish you could’ve had that drink. 

The jawline that always drove you mad is sharper, peppered with the kind of hardly there stubble that tells you he’s only missed one shaving day. A problem he never used to have, and somehow, it makes him all that much more attractive. 

His hair is a little messier than his carefully crafted look that used to take him a good forty five minutes every morning. It curls wildly at the ends now, tucking behind his ears and fanning along the nape of his freckled neck. It still looks as soft as you remember, though. 

His shoulders are broader, stretching the white cotton of his shirt tight enough across his chest that you can see the outline of a thick patch of hair that had only just started growing when you knew him last. The dark wash of his jeans makes them look almost black, fitting snug over his thighs, cuffed at the bottoms framing the tops of his boots.

Why couldn’t Steve Harrington just peak in high school like he was supposed to?

“So yeah, this is awkward.” Your best friend laughs nervously, “We’re going to get a drink or three because this scenario is by far the worst case and not the way this was supposed to go in my head, but anyway, look who’s here for the summer! We’ll talk later!“ 

Robin grabs your wrist before Steve can respond, pulling you back into the party and away from your ex-boyfriend while the realization of the summer you’ve foolishly agreed to hits you all at once. It turns your body weightless as the two of you weave in and out of the crowd. It tightens in your chest, the music turning muffled hitting your ear drums. Suddenly, you're not the woman who crossed state lines to the one place she said she’d never come back to, happily living the lie that you’d actually forgotten about him to be a good friend.

You’re the girl who let him keep you a secret, and you hate him for it.

Sneakers hit the sticky tile floor that hasn’t changed since 1984, the harsh lighting of the kitchen makes you both squint. It’s calmer than the rest of the house, just a few groups lingering off in the corners, too deep in conversation to care about you and Robin. Letting go of a breath you didn’t know you were holding, your ears start to pop too, Eddie Money’s Take Me Home Tonight coming through crystal clear.

“The band-aid might have been violently ripped off, but hey, it’s ripped off nonetheless.” Robin shrugs, finding the half-drunk bottle of tequila on the counter. “I think we should count this as a win and take a shot to celebrate.”

“A win?! Are you kidding me?!” You hiss, completely bewildered.

“Yes a win - oh no.” Her blue eyes go wide at whatever’s behind you, but it doesn’t take you long to figure out when that familiar spice and cedar of his cologne hits your nose.

“Right so, who’s going to let me know what’s going on?”

His voice comes out close enough to send your lashes fluttering, mimicking your heart. The nerves you’d just gotten over threaten to come back tenfold, but you manage to swallow them down just like in high school, turning around.

“I think it’s obvious what’s going on, Steve,”

It’s not as hard to say his name as you thought it would be, but it is hard to stare at his face from this close. Specifically, the two moles that dot his cheek that you always used to kiss, or the ones on his neck that you hate still taunt you for more. 

“I’m here for the summer.”

Steve Harrington had thought about this moment a lot, but Rick’s house was never the backdrop for it. His eyes take in the features you’ve not only grown into but somehow are even more beautiful than he remembers. Even if they’re twisted in a glare. 

“I meant, why didn’t I know until right now?” He manages to get out with a shake of his head narrowing his eyes at Robin, who’s too busy trying to find clean shot glasses to notice.

“Why would you need to know?” You snap, making a nervous hand card through his hair

“Cause I’ve, uh,  you know, I’ve asked about you a few times,” the last part comes out a little harsher, clearly directed at your best friend, who you know is actively ignoring you both now.

“Why? Why would you need to know anything about me?” Your hostility still shocks him even though he was expecting it. His eyebrows shoot up just like his hands in surrender. “Why didn’t you tell me, Robin?”

She groans loudly, slamming the tequila bottle down on the counter before turning around.

“You said you didn’t want to hear anything about him after you moved, why would I tell you he was asking about you?”

“Wait -“ Steve butts in this time, “seriously?”

“Oh my god, can you two shut the fuck up for a second and take these shots? You’re really putting a damper on the beginning of the best summer of our lives,” Robin snaps before waving a hand in front of three freshly poured shots.

It’s a struggle to tear your eyes from him, your body responding to his presence in a way that feels like it’s turning against you. It has you downing your shot in one quick motion before anyone else can even touch theirs. 

“Wow, okay.” Robin deadpans before shaking her head, wasting no time in following your lead.

“So we’re not cheersing anymore? Isn’t that bad luck?” Steve mutters, shoulder brushing against yours as he leans forward to grab his shot, the slightest touch enough to engulf your skin into flames.

A whole summer? Fuck.

“Robin, pour another one.” You rush with pinched brows as you try to move past the bitter sting of the alcohol going down your throat, taking a step toward her and away from him, you add “and we’ll cheers.”

You refuse to meet his gaze when you say it, but you can feel the intensity of it on the side of your face, begging you to break.

“Rob’s, how are you guys getting home?” Steve finally breaks, giving up his quiet fight for now, and you hate the way his nickname for her softens your heart.

“Huh, that’s a good question, I hadn’t thought that far yet.” She admits, over pouring so tequila splashes against the countertop, looking up at him with a mischievous grin.

“Seriously–

“RECKLESS ABANDON STEVEY!” Cutting him off, she downs her shot in his disapproving face.

“You didn’t cheers again.” Steve sighs, hands finding his hips as you whine an irritated, “We needed to cheers!” At the same time.

Your eyes meet his finally, his knowing smirk twisting the corners of your lips despite yourself. You blame the tequila starting to warm the blood in your veins.

“Well, you need to take yours then if we’re doing another one ‘the proper’ way, or it’s not going to be even.” Robin points at your drink in a silent challenge. 

You know how this game works.

“Fine.” You shrug, downing it with more ease than the last one.

“Oh my god. Stop! Do not pour another one before you answer my question, please!” Steve sounds exasperated, grabbing the bottle from her before she can disobey, “How are you getting home?” 

You try not to focus on how much larger his already big hands are now, or how small the bottle looks wrapped up in his palm compared to your best friends. The second shot takes the edge off your nerves in a way that your shoulders relax. Leaning against the counter, you cross your arms, watching the two of them bicker, catching Steve’s wandering gaze on your exposed legs while he tries his best to keep his focus on Robin. It boosts your ego in a way that has the anger hiding just under the surface go from a boil to a slow simmer.

“I don’t know Harrington, do you know anybody with a car?” She wiggles two thick brows at him, the second shot making her blue eyes glassy, and her smile a little more goofy.

“Why’d I know you were going to say that? And why did I know you were going to do this?” Steve sighs, letting her snatch the bottle out of his hand.

“What? Bring her to the party?” Robin snorts pointing a thumb in your direction, making you gasp.

“Robin!”

“No! What? No. But don’t think,” Steve clears his throat looking at you awkwardly before finishing a little quieter, “don’t think we’re not going to talk about this later.”

“I can still hear you.” You remind him with a sarcastic smirk.

“Yeah, I know you can. Look, I’ll DD for you because obviously tonight is, uhh,” he gestures to you with cheeks that grow pinker by the second, “a big deal. But you gotta stop doing this to me, I need you to get your license you’re out of colleg-”

“Shots! Steve’s driving us home!” Robin whoops loudly, and an irritated Steve pinches the bridge of his nose before walking away. 

Your eyes follow him out the door, shoulder blades flexing under cotton when he runs another hand through his hair before disappearing from sight. You try to push down the small pang of jealousy that makes a familiar home inside your chest remembering the blond girl waiting for him on the couch.

“Okay, okay,” Robin interrupts your inner struggle at the perfect time, sliding an overflowing shot over to you with a giggle that's contagious and it banishes Steve from your mind just like magic. “I’m not going to forget this time, promise.”

“I don’t think I can afford for you to forget again,” you smirk, raising your glass, tequila spilling over the tops of your fingers, “cheers!”

“Cheers!” 

You both down them at the same speed, slamming the empty glasses back onto the countertop with laughter that bounces off the walls and threatens to drown out the music. And for a second you think maybe you can actually do this.

“I’m so happy you’re here!” She squeals, throwing her arms around your neck, doing a terrible job of holding her weight up. Grabbing onto her waist, you do your best to steady her, “Look I just want to say while he’s gone, I know this isn’t easy for you, okay? I know.”

She hiccups before pulling away slightly to look at you as she finishes,“But It means so much to me, and I just wanna say I’m proud of you. I mean, who knows, you’ve changed, he’s changed-”

“Nope, no, you’re done. Where’s the weed? I wanna smoke some weed.” You push Robin away, rolling your eyes at the loud laugh your reaction gets from her.

There’s a long summer ahead of you, but right now, all you need is to find a joint and try not to think about your ex in the next room.

With a few more shots and a couple of hits from a blunt you and Robin you’d stumbled upon being passed amongst a group outside, you start to really feel like you’re back home. Nostalgia hits you hard in the gut as you walk through the crowded living room hand in hand with your best friend, giggling and stumbling back to the kitchen on the hunt for some food. 

“God, I’m so hungry!” Robin practically growls when you hit the harsh lighting again making you both hiss.

An empty bottle of tequila sits on the counter now and red solo cups litter the floor that weren’t there before, and a growing pile of bitten into limes cover the counters in a sticky mess. Alone and left to your own devices Robin begins to raid the cupboards, huffing when she finds nothing behind every door she aggressively yanks open.

“Why is his kitchen always so empty? Like? Do we just always miss the party?” You hiccup, tripping on a tile that’s coming out of the grout. 

You catch yourself on the kitchen island in front of you, a loud laugh bubbling up from your chest, too drunk to focus on how gross the formica feels under your fingertips.

“There’s literally nothing to eat in here, not even like an old bag of stale chips.” She opens the first cabinet one last time before slamming it shut, officially giving up with a thump of her forehead against the wood. “This is why he’s always at the diner.”

“Wait, Rick actually lives here still?” Another hiccup, you foolishly lean your elbows on the counter, something you’ll regret in the morning as you stare at your best friend with a toothy smile, completely unaffected by the news about the missing food that seems to be ruining her entire mood.

“How can he sell weed and not have any food in his house? What happens when he gets the munchies?!” She throws her hands up, ignoring your question and answering it all at the same time. “I’m gonna find a bathroom, and then we’re gonna find Steve - don’t make that face, he’ll take us through a drive-thru.”

“Don’t be gone long, I don’t know anyone here!” You whine with a childish drunk stomp of your foot, still sporting that sour look she told you to wipe off. The carefree girl from moments before now gone in the blink of an eye.

“Literally like five minutes, I swear!” She promises, turning around with a smirk as she crosses her heart with a ring covered finger like you used to do as kids, easily earning the smile from you she was hoping for.

You watch her disappear into the party, staring after bouncing honey waves until they’re out of your sight. 

Suddenly alone for the first time in hours, the kitchen feels quiet. The bass of the music is distant, and your thoughts are heavy just like your feet as your last shot of tequila settles with the rest. Your brain wanders to places that you thought you’d banished from the corners of your mind for years. It takes you to the pink fullness of his lips, and has you biting the bottom of yours. Then it’s the freckles that dot the bridge of his nose and explode across his cheeks, even leaving their mark on the bottom of his earlobe.

You’d found that one the night you’d tried to count them all. You never finished.

Then you remember the blond on the couch, and how her pink nails dug into the thick chestnut of his hair that you used to tug on when his kisses got to be too much. She turns into Nancy Wheeler and those stolen looks in the hallways at school, and suddenly, you hate him all over again.

“Jesus, you’re in here alone? Where’s Robin?” Steve’s voice makes you jump at the worst possible time, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scar-“

“Seriously?!” You snap, turning around with crossed arms. Leaning against the counter, you hope that you don’t seem as drunk as you are, but the way his lips twitch regardless of your attitude tells you that it’s not working. “She went to the bathroom and then was going to look for you.”

“So, it just makes sense for me to hang out here then, right?”Steve raises his hands in a silent plea for permission. 

His big boots take heavy steps towards you, and just like on cue, has your body betraying you. The plush dough of your thighs pressing harder together each time he gets closer to closing the gap. 

Cautiously taking the spot a few feet away from you, he keeps his hands up till he feels safe enough to shove them in his pockets. The spice of his cologne smells fresh, and you wonder if he sprayed it before walking in here. It overpowers everything else around you, invading your senses and committing itself to memory despite you.

“I um, I really hope this is okay to say,” he stammers watching the way one of your eyebrows arches up, and it doesn’t take long for his hand to escape from his pocket to run through his hair again, “but it’s, it’s good to see you. I m-missed you, Robin’s missed you.”

“Shouldn’t you be hanging out with your girlfriend?” You ignore him and tuck his words away to unpack another time with a sober mind.

“Cassie? She’s not my girlfriend.” He answers without any hesitation, something sparking alive inside the gold of his eyes that has one side of his mouth tugging up. 

“Does she know that?” 

“I’m pretty sure she does considering she left with another guy not that long ago.” He snorts, the confidence you’ve always known him to have finding its way back, and you don’t miss the way he scoots closer. 

So you scoot back.

“Sucks to suck, Harrington.” You sigh, impressed with how well you’re playing off the victory lap you’re shamefully running in your head at the new information.

“There you are!” Robin rushes in, face flushed and out of breath, interrupting the moment you weren’t ready to have yet at the perfect time “Somehow I got roped into like a keg stand and I think it’s really time for us to go home guys.”

“Robin!” 

“What?!”

She tries to shush you, but even you can see from across the room the way sweat starts to bead across her forehead, the blush in her cheeks going pale before she runs to the trash can. Steve pushes off the island without any hesitation, rushing to the other side of the kitchen, gathering her hair in his hands to hold it back.

“What were you thinking?” Steve scolds her in the softest way possible, rubbing her back as all the beer finds its way out of her body.  

Those big eyes of his that you’re sure are going to haunt your dreams meet yours, and in that moment the room decides it wants to spin. You’re not sure if it’s the night of tequila with nothing but a weed chaser catching up to you or if it’s the onslaught of feelings you’ve successfully suppressed for the last five years coming back to seek their revenge. The deadly combination of both comes to a head the more you watch the gentle way Steve handles Robin and it makes you realize it’s time to go.

You manage to pull yourself together enough to help Steve get Robin in his car, heart almost stopping when you walk up to the same Maroon BMW he took your virginity in. It takes everything inside of you not to abort the mission, run to Robin’s apartment by figuring your way through the woods you used to play in, do anything but sit in those leather seats. But your best friend’s drunk rambles of how happy she is to have her ‘two amigos and how that it makes three now’ while professing her undying love for both of you has you putting on a brave face, and then your big girl pants when you have to sit in the front seat next to him.

It’s in perfect condition, just like the morning he pulled into the parking lot Junior year with it. Your stomach twists in the kind of knots that have you wrapping your arms around your waist. The smell of leather and pine pulling on the back of your throat, and all the memories that come with it. He keeps the radio low, and you can hardly make out the faint sounds of whatever late night talk show was on over the soft snores of a passed out Robin in the backseat. 

“I thought you’d have a different car by now.” You grumble sinking further into your seat, keeping your eyes trained on the trees that zoom past your window.

“You’ll have to pry her from my cold, dead hands, honey.” Steve chuckles, relaxing a little more into his own, a big hand finding a new resting spot on the stick shift.

The endearment sends you reeling, the tequila making it hard to bite your tongue.

“Don’t call me that.” Quickly realizing that staring out the window does nothing to help your already dicey equilibrium, you decide to finally look at him, but you’re not sure if that’s any better.

‘What? Honey?” He asks, fully knowing the answer but egging you on just the same with a ghost of a smirk on his lips.

Narrowing your eyes, you turn fully in your seat doing your best to ignore the way the street lights bounce off his sharp features as you face him.

“What? So you just make out with girls that you’re not dating and get away with it?” 

Steve snorts, licking his lips and meeting your angry gaze with an amused one. 

“I am twenty-four and single.”

Scoffing at his answer, you pause to collect your words that keep getting tangled on the tip of your tongue from too many drinks and how the whites of his teeth start to show in a grin as he glances in the rearview mirror to check on Robin.

“You think you can do whatever you want don’t you?”

“No -“

“What? Because you didn’t peak in high school like you were supposed to, you somehow just got hotter, you think the rules don’t apply to you or something?”

“Good to know you still think I’m hot.” Steve’s face cracks into a smile, turning into an apartment complex you’re assuming is Robin’s. 

“You’re the worst,” you try to deflect weakly, turning back in your seat with a huff.

“I definitely used to be,” he mumbles mostly to himself, putting the car in park, both of you jerking forward slightly. The sudden lack of movement makes Robin groan in the back, lashes fluttering open to look at her surroundings.

“Oh, thank god, I think I’m gonna be sick again.” Her throat sounds hoarse when she finally speaks, but it’s all she can manage before a dry heave has the boy next to you scrambling.

“Not in my car! Not in my car!” Steve’s quick to jump out of the driver's seat rushing to get your best friend out of the back, leaving you alone to fight with your seatbelt. 

Frustrated, you blow a breath out from between your pressed lips tugging on the smooth material while your thumb smashes the release button. It doesn’t budge and the cedar starts to pick at your nerves. An angry noise squeaks from the back of your throat catching Steve’s attention who finally gets Robin on her feet. The spice of his cologne swallows you whole when he emerges back into the car. Leaning over the console he’s gentle when he pushes your hand away. You don’t protest his help this time, eyes tracing the gold chain that slips out from under his shirt. It shimmers everytime it swings from his neck when it hits the moonlight, clicking the button with ease, releasing you from your self imposed trap.

“Thanks,” you grumble, using a wobbling arm to open your door, clambering out less gracefully than you intended.

“Are you good to follow me? I don’t think Robin’s gonna make it up the steps on her own.” Closing the car door, he leans over the top of it, his eyes watching the way you maneuver around his car like you’re walking on thin ice.

“I’m fine,” you growl, right as you lose your footing catching yourself with an open palm on the hood of his trunk.

“Seriously, I can help I just have to take you both one at a -“

“Steve, I said I’m fine. I don’t need anything from you.” You interrupt and if you weren’t so focused on putting one foot in front of the other, you’d see the way the harshness of your words make him wince.

He stares at you for a minute longer before muttering a quiet ‘whatever’ scooping Robin up and tucking her into his side. You follow them at your own pace up the cement steps to the second floor, thankful that her apartment isn’t too far from the landing when you get to the top. Your legs start to feel like Jell-O waiting for him to unlock the door, the long drive from New York and the night finally catching up to you in a way that makes your eyelids heavy as Steve pushes open her front door. 

“Bathroom! Bathroom!” Robin manages to get out when she and Steve cross the threshold first, a string of cuss words spilling out of his mouth as he tries to hurry her to the place she was begging to be taken to.

You use the full force of your weight with your back to the door, closing behind you with a loud slam. The navy blue couch in the middle of her living room begging you to sit down, an invitation your clumsy steps accept, leading you to the fluffy cushions. Collapsing onto them with a satisfied hum, you sink into the foam, lashes fluttering and eyelids getting heavier with each second that passes, and soon you find yourself giving in with a warm cheek pressed into the arm rest.

You don’t know how much time has passed when the feeling of your laces being tugged loose stirs you awake. Trying to focus with vision still blurry from sleep, Steve’s messy head of hair comes clear into your line of sight. Long fingers pull the white strings from the metal eyelets of your converse, a warm palm wrapping around your ankle that sends a shiver up your spine as he slowly wiggles your sneaker off your foot. The white tube socks that cover your feet make him smile with a thumb that dares to rub a small circle on your skin before dropping it to work on the other.

“Steve,” you manage to get out, voice still thick with sleep.

“I’m just tucking you in, that’s all hon- and then I’ll get out of your hair.” He clears his throat after the nickname that set you off earlier burns like acid dying on his tongue.

You grumble something unintelligible, rubbing the mascara off your eyes as he pulls your other shoe off the pad of his thumb doing the same thing to your other ankle making your toes curl. Both his hands find their way to your calves squeezing softly at the muscles before he starts to lift them up.

“Come on, let's get you laying on your side.” He coos, helping you adjust so you’re finally horizontal. You groan a little, reaching out for him on instinct, the softness of his touch making a very drunk you crave more. 

“I’d love to cuddle but I think you’d actually kill me in the morning,” he laughs to himself knowing you won’t remember any of this when you wake up.

You make some more noises that he can’t figure out if they're supposed to be words or not as he drapes Robin’s thick throw blanket over you. Grabbing the material in your fists when you feel it, you pull it even closer, a low satisfied hum spilling from between your lips that still sparkle with leftover glitter from your gloss. He watches the way you curl into yourself, fingers twitching at his side to run his knuckles over your cheek.

“Steve,” his name comes out clear as day, kicking up his heart rate.

“Yeah?” He squats down next to your face, the warmth of your breath hitting his face while your eyebrows furrow in your sleepy state trying to get whatever you want to say out.

“You really broke my heart, you know that?”

Your words punch the air out of his lungs, just like your unexpected arrival. Something he’s fantasized about happening more times than he’d like to admit.

“Yeah, I know.” He sighs defeated, giving into his urges for comfort with knuckles that brush against the warmth of your skin, a familiar burn stings his eyes when you subconsciously lean into it. 

You don’t say anything else to him, the furrow of your brows smoothing out as your face finally starts to relax under his touch. He watches the way your shoulders move with each deep breath that pulls you further into sleep and away from him. 

He takes a selfish minute to stare at you uninterrupted, tracing your cheekbone one last time before he stands up to leave, he knows he won’t get any sleep, and the words you won’t remember saying are already haunting him like a bad dream.

“Do you really wanna love me like you say you do? Give it to me like you say you do? Cause it’s hard enough you gotta treat me like this, lonely enough to let you treat me like this. Do you really love me?”

Steve was late, glancing down at pink the digital watch on your wrist, fifteen minutes late. Five lockers down from his, you wait for him at what’s been your meeting spot for the last eight months. Far away enough from his locker that no one would suspect you waiting for the King of Hawkins himself, but close enough to the janitor's closet for him to steal you away from sight without anyone noticing for the forty-five minutes of study hall. 

Hushed argumentative whispers catch your attention, nerves making your feet move from side to side unsure if you should abandon ship and just go and study for the final in your last period. Nancy Wheeler's eyes meet yours as she rounds the corner with her best friend Barb, the corners of her lips pulling up ever so slightly giving you a small wave which you return as she tries to ignore her friend.

“He’s just trying to get in your pants! Come on, you have to be smart enough to know that.” Barb points at the note Nancy is clutching in her hand so hard that the whites of her knuckles show.

“It’s not like that, I’m just tutoring him.” She argues but the blush that creeps across her cheeks and spreads down her neck gives her away.

I’m just tutoring him.

That simple sentence is enough for your world to tip off its axis, chest tightening at the realization of who they're arguing about. All the canceled plans the past few weeks with the excuse of extra tutoring starts to feel like a knife to the gut. Prince Charming rounds the corner holding and twists the handle with a bright flirtatious smile that used to be just for you, only now it’s flashed at the dainty brunette who melts under it because no one is immune to Steve Harrington. 

It takes him a minute to see you, too wrapped up in Nancy who’s back is pressed to the lockers, caged in by Steve’s big hand splayed against the metal by her head. They’re too far to hear what he’s saying to her, but the confident way his teeth flash and the sweet giggle he earns from it tells you everything you need to know. Tears burn at the corners of your eyes, but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing them fall. Fists clenched at your sides, the blunt ends of your nails dig into your palms as you hold in the sob that threatens to give you away as you walk past them, meeting his guilty eyes before you round the corner.  

The pounding in your head wakes you up before the sun that leaks through Robin’s small kitchen window. Your hangover rings in your ears with a vengeance, and has you letting out a pained groan. Everything after the joint you shared outside at the party is nothing but a blur, a scattered puzzle with pieces missing as you try and figure out how you ended up back home and tucked into the couch. 

“Are you alive out there?” Robin’s voice calls out weakly from down the hall in her room. 

“Barely,” you grumble, agitation kicking in from dehydration and the old wounds your dream decided to rip open.

“I’d say I’m never drinking again but we both know that’s a lie,” she says, muffled by what sounds like a pillow.

A giggle tries to escape, but it only makes you wince, clutching your forehead willing the pain to subside.

“How’d we even get home?” You croak, rubbing harshly at your eyes before attempting to sit up, covering them with a cupped palm as your surroundings get brighter.

“Steve,” Robin’s voice comes out right next to you, surprising you by appearing in the entryway. 

Hearing his name out loud sends the kind of rage that scorches through your veins, it burns from your fingertips remembering the look on his face when you broke up a few weeks after that day in the hallway your dreams so sweetly reminded you of. 

It was Pity.

Your best friend ignores your silence and the sour look on your face as you silently take a trip down memory lane while she shuffles into the living room wandering to the attached kitchen. 

“How far is Eddie’s shop from here?” You grimace watching her chug from a carton of orange juice.

“Oh, super close. You can walk from here.” She answers, wiping her upper lip with the back of your hand, “they opened like two hours ago, I’m sure he’s already looked at your car.”

“I think I’m going to shower and go over, do you want to come with me?” Raising your hands above your head, you stretch your sore muscles as a yawn comes out in the middle of your question.

“I think I need to rot in bed for a little while longer before I go walk amongst the living, I promise I’m all yours after I don’t feel like a freaking crypt keeper.” Your yawn is contagious, giving you a view of all her perfectly straight teeth.

“I demand something greasy for lunch when I get back then.” You point at her finding your footing on the carpet, noticing your converse are tucked nice and neat against the couch next to you. The feeling of Steve’s knuckles is a ghost against your skin, details starting to come out clear from the murky waters. 

Heat rushes to your cheek at the memory while your emotions start to go at war with each other over what to feel towards the man who tucked you and your best friend in last night, but also broke your heart in a way you don’t think you’ll ever quite forget. 

“I’m on it boss, god, I wish Benny’s was still open.” Robin interrupts the inner struggle she’s oblivious to you having as she walks past you flinging herself on the couch you’d just won the battle of leaving “But I’ll think of something good, I promise.”

Just like your yawn, the smile she gives you is contagious despite the sharp pain you get in your head from moving too much and you both laugh wincing when it only gets worse. 

Ibuprofen first, then your car.

Birds chirp loudly, mocking the headache that's turned into something more annoying than painful after a handful of ibuprofen. The sticky air is still suffocating even in a pair of black biker shorts and an oversized loose fitting tee, while the sun shines golden against the cerulean sky without a cloud in sight to hide you from its light. 

The heat warming off its rays makes beads of sweat start to collect at the crown of your head and the nape of your neck, while the incline Eddie’s spinning auto body sign sits on top of threatens to take your breath away. Unwanted thoughts of Steve Harrington keep your pace quick, stewing over the last twenty-four hours and everything it’s unraveled.

The small parking lot is empty when you reach it, kicking small rocks with the toe of your sneaker as you cross it. The double garage doors are open, Metallica’s Seek and Destroy echoing loudly, tugging up the corners of your lips. Your Chevrolet Caprice is the only car semi-lifted in the air with a pair navy coverall-clad legs underneath it.

Opening your mouth, Eddie’s name dies on your tongue before you get a chance to shout it, clocking him and his wild curls sitting in the glass office inside. Those big brown eyes meet yours from across the way, a dimple filled grin lighting up his face waving excitedly from his chair before standing up.

“Glad to see you’re alive, princess.” He teases stepping out of his glass case, with coveralls that are gray today.

“Honestly, it’s a miracle,” you laugh, confused eyes darting to the large boots under your car that don’t seem to have any reaction to the sound of your voice.

“Oh, I heard all about your first night back home. In fact my shop opened thirty minutes late because of it,” he chuckles, crossing his arms over his chest as he leans against the open metal frame where the door should be. Faded bats that you remember when they were fresh dancing across his arm with his movements.

“Wait, what?” You ask, confusion pinching your brows together right as the mysterious pair of legs start pushing out whoever’s under your car.

“I didn’t get back to my place till almost four in the morning after getting you two home and in bed,” Steve emerges flashing you his million dollar smile as he sits up on the dolly, the sleeves of his own coveralls tied tight around his waist and hair wild like he’d just rolled out of bed, “I slept through my alarm.”

The immediate glare that hardens your face when you see him has Eddie's eyes light with obvious amusement. 

“What are you doing here? And why are you touching my car?” You snap, trying to push the worries about what you look like deep under the irritation and the distraction that begs to steal your anger with his arms on full display like this. Or how the patch of chest hair that peeks out the top of it shines with sweat. 

“I work here,” Steve snorts like it’s the most obvious conclusion, because, well, it is, “and I volunteered to look at it, Eddie’s got his hands full.” 

That was a lie, he begged him.

“Since when do you know anything about cars?” Snorting, your attitude makes him roll his eyes, pushing himself off the ground.

It’s a struggle to hold his gaze when he stands at full height, biceps flexing with his movements practically daring you to look. He pulls out a faded maroon rag from his pocket and starts wiping off the fresh black from his hands that’s already stained under his nail beds. The hard bottoms of his work boots making their way across the cement floors of the garage. 

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me anymore, that’s what happens when someone leaves for five years.” Steve antagonizes, his lack of sleep leaving him with thin patience.

He stops just close enough for you to smell how the woodsy spice of his cologne mixes with the sweet bitterness of the oil that seems to find a way to leave its mark on every surface in here. Including him.

“I’m going to finish balancing the books, why don’t you tell her the good news first and then the bad,” Eddie pours ice over the tension that threatens to boil over before it can turn hostile, catching the way both of your nostrils flare and shoulders square up.

“Wait, there’s good news and bad news?” Your focus on Steve shifts as Eddie’s words sink in.

“Like I said, I’m going to finish balancing the books.” The metal head reminds you, giving a half salute with two fingers while simultaneously shooting a stern look to Steve who’s mouthing something behind you. “Your mechanic’s going to go over everything with you, we can talk about pricing when it’s all said and done.”

“Seriously?” You bluster as Eddie shrugs with the kind of nonchalance that sends you reeling before sitting back down, tuning the dial-up on the radio in his office. End of discussion.

“Look -“

“How do I even know that you know what you’re talking about?” You interrupt, making his full lips set into a straight line.

“Are you going to be like this the whole time?” Steve sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose before crossing his arms, the tops of his shoulders moving with them. 

A pleading expression softens his features instead of the hard combative one you were anticipating, and it helps your blood pressure return to normal. The realization hitting you that maybe skipping breakfast with a hangover probably wasn’t your smartest idea.

“N-no, sorry, I just feel like -“

“Shit? Yeah, I bet.” He chuckles, and your jaw clicks. Maybe if you count to three…

“Just tell me what’s wrong with my car, Steve.” It comes out clipped, but it's an improvement from your fingers twitching to rip that handsome head right off those shoulders that won’t stop trying to distract you.

“How about you tell me the last time you had your oil changed?” He counters, taking a few steps back to sit on the hood of the rusted baby blue Buick behind him. 

“Uhh, I- I think,” All the blood rushes to your cheeks, warming your skin as you try to wrack your brain and not focus on the way his legs spread wide to keep his balance. “Maybe, like, six months ago.”

“Six months?!” The number must be worse than whatever Steve was preparing for when a dirty hand runs through his hair, “and then you drove it three states to get here?”

“Yeah, I - I mean, hearing you say it out loud,” you grimace thinking of all the weeks you ignored that flashing orange light on your dashboard.

“So then you shouldn’t be surprised when I tell you that your engine locked up.” 

“Is this the bad news?” 

“Kind of,”

“What do you mean kind of?”

“Look, the good news is that I can fix it, the bad news is that I have to order a few parts that could take up to three weeks to get here, then the job itself is going to take me probably another week.” He sighs standing up, starting back towards your car with you quick on his heels.

“That’s the whole summer!” You argue like it could possibly make a difference, frustration pricking at the corners of your eyes watching him pop open the hood.

“More like half of it, but hey, you’re lucky I can even get it running again without having to replace the whole thing.” He meets your gaze from under his lashes leaning over the engine, long nimble fingers unscrewing the cap where your oil should go.

“So what am I supposed to do? How am I supposed to get around?” You know that part isn’t his problem, this entire mess is your own doing but it doesn’t stop it coming out in a whine. You blame your hangover.

“You’re gonna be just fine, city girl,” Steve grins up at you before reaching even further under the hood, muscles flexing with him, “besides we both know I can’t say no to Robin.”

He pulls at a small tube that’s purpose is unknown to you but you keep eyes trained on his movements like you have an idea, anything to keep the focus off the gold chain that dangles from his neck. 

“Or you.” The last part comes out so quiet, a focused look pinching his brows together as he continues his investigation.

“Me?” 

He doesn’t look at you when he shrugs, pulling at something with a little more force that makes you both flinch. 

“How much is this going to cost me, Steve?” Your defeat shows in your tone, as the question slips quietly from between your lips that you wish you’d have put gloss on now.

He grunts at the same time something pops against metal under his hands, muttering a string of curse words under his breath before standing back up wiping his palms on the white cotton of his tank top. Charcoal stains fill the small grooves in the fabric with each swipe of his hands, pulling the collar further down every time. It’s a losing battle not to look at his chest when every motion reveals more of the thick curls underneath. 

Steve clears his throat, letting you know that you’ve been caught and it’s at this moment you wish you could walk in front of the moving truck that drives loudly past the shop, only exaggerating the silence that follows.

“Don’t stress about that today,” he smiles, letting you off the hook for now, something mischievous dancing in his eyes for another time. “Like Eddie said, we’ll figure it out.”

“Don’t stress about it?! Have you met me?” You huff, the money you’ve saved up for the summer starting to dwindle right before your eyes. 

“I have actually,” Steve chuckles, stepping close enough for the tips of your shoes to touch his boots. He feels bold when you don’t make any attempt to move away like at the party or retreat when he closes the gap. A thumb and forefinger finding their way to your chin, tilting your head up to meet his gaze, “and you’re going to be fine, I promise.”

Your lips part on their own, the full force of his face from this close stealing the breath from your lungs. You can smell the coffee he had this morning and the mint from his toothpaste still lingering on his breath. The stubble that lines his sharp jaw is even more noticeable today, tapering off at the top of his neck making the cluster of moles that live there stand out even more. A pink tongue runs over his full bottom lip and it has your lashes fluttering against the tops of your cheeks.

“Now go get some food, grumpy,” his voice comes out low, a teasing edge to it that reminds you of what it’s like to have Steve Harrington flirt with you. “I’ll call when I get the parts, okay?”

It’s like detention junior year all over again as you turn into putty in his hand. Still too attractive for his own good, all you can do is nod while all the fight you had left inside you disappears as the pad of his thumb swipes soft against your heated skin just under your pouted lip before letting you go. He turns on his heel after that, walking back to the box of tools he has spread out over his workbench before adding,

“Do me a favor and tell Robin she owes me a new shirt.”

beta’d by @sweetsweetjellybean

🌻 chapter two

[lexirosewrites]

Wealthy omega Steve going on an arranged date each week to the same restaurant because his parents want him to find a mate.

Alpha Eddie who busks in the parking lot for tips and always offers him a cigarette and a shoulder to cry on after it doesn’t work out.

It takes them a while.

“Another one? That’s the third date this week, pretty boy. You going for a record or something?” Eddie asks, already holding his half-finished cigarette out for Steve to take.

He does. It’s his only reward for doing all of this.

Well, that and Eddie.

Eddie makes this easier.

Steve takes a long draw from it, craving the burn of nicotine more than he cares to admit to himself.

He craves Eddie’s company too, but that’s between him and the cigarette.

“Yeah, my parents are working overtime it seems. They’re bound and determined to have me mated off before spring.”

Steve laughs.

Eddie doesn’t.

“They sound awful.”

They are. Their insistence on old-fashioned values and treating their omega son like a burden to be rid of is proof enough.

“They mean well,” he says. “I think.”

Eddie hums thoughtfully. It’s clear that he disagrees.

Steve passes the cigarette back.

The alpha snubs it out on the sidewalk they’re sitting on instead.

“How long are you gonna keep doing this for?”

“Well, as long as it takes to find someone who’s interested, I guess. There’s not an exact timeline or any—”

Eddie startles Steve when he cuts him off with a growl.

He doesn’t look mad, but his forehead creases, deep frown, and sour scent speaks of irritation.

“Not what I meant.”

Oh.

“I don’t know, Eddie. They’re my parents… and it’s not like I’ve got anyone else knocking down my door.”

Even his dates aren’t interested once they’ve met him in person.

Steve always looks good on paper. He’s attractive and from an upstanding family, a decent investment at first glance.

But then he opens his mouth. That’s where their interest always ends.

Sometime between shaking hands and dessert, their eyes get bored and they start checking their watch more. They don’t bother to hide that they’re running out the clock, eager to be away from Steve.

He thought it would hurt less after a while, but it doesn’t.

“How many times are we gonna do this, Stevie?“

And now even Eddie is bored with him. It makes sense. They’ve been meeting up for months and Steve isn’t worth much for stimulating conversation.

It had to end eventually.

“I’m sorry. I— I didn’t realize I was bothering you. I can leave you to your gigging, man. Let me just—”

Steve reaches for his wallet, pulling out a thick wad of bills to shove in Eddie’s guitar case as an apology for taking up his precious time.

Compensation for the therapy.

“Hey, no— that’s not what I meant, baby. I just— ugh, why is this so hard to say?” Eddie groans, grabbing at his own hair in frustration.

Steve hasn’t the faintest idea what’s ailing Eddie. The guy is normally chill 100% of the time. It’s why Steve goes to him for comfort. He’s hard to shake.

“Sorry?” he tries.

“No, I’m sorry! I just can’t sit here for yet another evening and pretend like there are more fish in the sea for you or whatever,” Eddie explains frantically, his eyes begging Steve to understand.

Ouch. Okay. Point made.

Steve is unlovable, got it.

He stands, brushing off his slacks so his shaking hands aren’t as noticeable.

Keep cool. Breathe.

“Understood. I won’t bother you anymore then. I can park across the street next time too. Good luck with everything, Eddie. I’m sure your band will get signed soon, you’re a talented musician.”

Eddie shoots to his feet, almost tripping over his own lanky limbs in the process.

He grabs the sleeve of Steve’s dress shirt, stopping him from leaving.

“Don’t go on anymore dates.”

Jesus.

“Yeah, I got it the first time, thanks. I’m undesirable. Can you stop repeating it?”

Eddie looks like he’s been slapped, but he doesn’t say anything back. The bluntness must have caught him off guard.

Steve sighs, attempting to pull free from the alpha’s grip.

He almost manages it.

But then Eddie snaps back to reality and his eyes go wide for just a split moment before he kisses Steve right on the lips.

It’s unexpected to say the least.

It’s also probably the best kiss of his entire life. Too bad it’s from someone who just told him to quit dating because nobody will ever want to court him.

They finally break apart and Steve sways.

“Eddie… what in the actual hell are you—?”

“I love you! I love you— I’ve been in love with you for months, but you insist on going on all these dates with alphas who have no taste and they keep breaking your heart and leaving me to pick up the pieces, but I don’t want to keep handing them back. I want to keep you, Steve. I want to be the only alpha you go on dates with.”

Steve stops trying to run away.

Instead, he yanks at the collar of Eddie’s shirt, tugging him into another, longer kiss.

This is love, huh? Makes sense.

His lips are warm and so is his heart. Patched up once more and encased in a body other than his own

No more arranged dates.

“That was a ‘yes,’ in case it didn’t translate.”

Eddie’s face is flushed and his happy smile is infectious.

“I don’t have the kind of money your usual dates have, but I had this really cute guy way overtip me earlier. Can I buy you dinner, pretty boy?”

It’s the first of many.

[wh0reforcoriolanussnow]

“Are you gonna be a good girl?” || Young President!Coriolanus Snow x reader

Summary: Coryo's friends have always been and probably will always be condescending towards you. When you refuse to stay home when he invites them over for dinner, you become aware of the intricate control that Coriolanus has skillfully woven around you, highlighting a sense of submission in your actions.

Warnings: reader smoking, age gap (r is 18 and Coryo is 25), manipulative, controlling, toxic!coryo, power dynamic, condescending behaviour,

Wc: 740

A/n: crap summary but i kinda got inspired by Priscilla and I lowkey imagined cailee as Priscilla in this but u don’t have to. I LOVE THIS MOVIE SM 😭 also pretend Arachne is still alive.

"I want to visit my family later today, Coryo," you mention, casually flicking the ashes from your cigarette into the nearby ashtray. Coryo looks up from his newspaper, his gaze fixed on you. “What?”

"I want to see my family later today," you repeat, "I haven’t seen them in weeks." The sentiment is laced with a tinge of longing. With a cigarette delicately held between meticulously manicured nails, your painted lips articulate the words, the smoke swirling into the air.

A hush settles in the air until Coryo’s voice breaks the silence, his tone void of emotion. “You can’t. Not today,” he asserts, his attention returning to the newspaper. Your eyes fixate on him. “And why not?” You try not to raise your voice, but a hint of urgency slips through.

"Because, sweetheart, we have guests coming over for dinner." You roll your eyes. "And I want you here, yes?" he adds, pointing to you. “Who’s coming?” Coriolanus sighs deeply, dismissing the question with, “Does it matter?”

“Yes, it does matter. Who’s coming, Coryo?” Your tone grows more agitated. He casually shrugs, “Just a few of my friends, that’s all.” The harsh stubbing out of your cigarette emphasizes your displeasure.

"Your friends?" you question, annoyance evident in your tone. Sensing your irritation, he casually discards his newspaper to the side. “Yes, does that bother you?” he spat in response, his words carrying a tinge of defiance.

You let out an exasperated laugh, “You know how I dislike your friends, Coryo. They’re horrible to me!” You grip the armchair tightly, leaning towards him. You can practically feel the irritation radiating off you.

Coriolanus dismissively rolls his eyes. “Please. They’re not horrible to you. You’re being dramatic—” The room is charged with tension as your hand forcefully slams on the table. “Yes. They are. They belittle me, Coryo!” The weight of your words hangs in the air, your chest heaving from the emotional intensity of the outburst.

It's true. Whenever you're around Coriolanus' friends, it's hard not to notice the condescending vibe they throw your way, the snarky comments about anything and everything about you.

The memory of your wedding day remains vivid in your mind, etched with indelible images of raised eyebrows and skeptical glances from all of Snow's friends as you walked down the aisle. The collective gaze left you with a lingering sense of embarrassment. You were only 17, and he was 24.

You were well aware of the swarm of thoughts buzzing through their minds every time they saw you with Coriolanus. According to them, you were too young, too naive, too quiet, and perhaps even too unintelligent to hold the title of First Lady.

The unsolicited opinions seemed to echo a common sentiment: Coriolanus should have chosen someone closer to his age, someone who shared more similarities with him.

Conversations with his friends were always filled with subtly belittling comments that Coryo either didn't notice or chose to ignore.

Arachne stood out as the harshest among them all. Her comments, in particular, were cutting and had a way of driving you out of the room, often leaving you with tears streaming down your face.

In their eyes, you were just weak. A wife who sat there and looked pretty. But you were more than that, you knew that, hell, even Coriolanus knew that, but he never spoke up.

"They just like to tease you. Don't be so sensitive," he scoffs, the nonchalance in his tone amplifying your frustration. You gnaw at your lips as Coriolanus rises with a sigh, leisurely stretching his neck before heading to the nearby table to pour himself a glass of alcohol.

"I don't want to be here," you whisper loud enough for him to hear you. "I want to see my family, Coryo," your voice trembling with the urgency of your plea. "You can't deny me of seeing my own family," you exclaimed, the words escaping your lips with an urgency that surprised even you.

His response was swift, harsh. He took hold of your chin, his fingers digging into your flesh as he forced you to look at him. "You are to stay here, do you hear me?" he commanded, his voice cutting through the air.

The forcefulness of his grip left you momentarily breathless. Your attempt to pull away was futile as his gaze bore into you, a mix of anger and expectation in his eyes. Tears welled up, blurring your vision as a wave of helplessness washed over you.

As your gaze meets his with glassy, doe-like eyes, Coriolanus can't help but be overcome with a sense of remorse. His hold gently eases, his fingers transitioning from your chin to delicately trace the pad of his thumb along your cheekbone.

"Are you gonna be a good girl and stay, hm?" His voice was softer now. You swallow hard and you find yourself nodding, silently surrendering to the intricate web of control that Coriolanus deftly wove around you.

Coriolanus tenderly brushes away a stray tear that had dared to escape, his touch as soft as a fleeting whisper. Leaning in, he draws closer to your face, placing a gentle kiss on your cheek. The warmth of the kiss lingers for a brief moment, a delicate embrace, before he gently withdraws. "Now, go get ready," he says, his back turned to you as he pours himself another glass as you wordlessly leave.

[sutorus]

imagine having a sleep over at megumis and toji decides to steal you away once he finally passes out 😮‍💨 his shirts and sweats probably have cigarettes burns in them

you gave me sm toji brain rot

-🫧 anon

we gave each other toji brainrot anon 🤝 kind of a part 2 to the kinktober toji fic

WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI. f! reader, unprotected, mild daddy kink, some anal play, degradation, toji being toji

you’re shifting on your feet, lips trapped between your teeth as you ring the doorbell. you’re early to the sleepover by a full hour.

you don’t know what you want to expect. if it’s toji, sitting on the couch, glass of some cheap shit on the armrest and hand tucked into his sweats.

or if it’s megumi, waiting at the door, bowl of popcorn by his hip and tv blasting because his dad isn’t home to scowl about the noise.

megumi does open the door. and toji does sit there.

and somehow, that’s the least likely, worst case scenario.

“hey,” megumi greets you, stepping aside to let you in.

toji doesn’t spare you a glance, so you let your eyes travel all over him. his bare feet propped up on the center table, his arm behind his head and fingers scratching his hair.

megumi notices you looking and — thankfully — only clicks his tongue, believing you’re just as irritated at his father’s presence as he is.

and are you? you’re unsure.

you don’t know how to face toji. you don’t know how to interact with him anymore, if you even should.

you sleep over at megumi’s house all the time, but right now you suddenly forgot how it even goes. do you take your shoes off at the genkan? do you leave your bag by the door?

you decide to just walk to megumi’s room wordlessly, taking the long way behind the couch as to not block toji’s view from the tv.

this doesn’t go unnoticed by either men.

megumi follows you inside, closing the door behind him and plopping down on his bed.

“so are we starting with the first movie?” he flips his laptop open. “it’s the best one, anyway.”

“uh, yeah, sure,” you sit down beside him hesitantly.

you’re just now noticing how much megumi and toji look alike and it’s freaking you out.

“what the fuck is wrong with you today?” blunt as always. blunt as toji.

“huh? dude, chill,” you lie down, placing the laptop on your lap. megumi eyes you suspiciously before lying down beside you. “i just didn’t sleep much last night.”

“right,” he says, skeptical but disinterested, and presses play.

every minute of the movie is torture — on the screen and in your head.

around the beginning of saw iii, megumi orders pizza. him, you and toji eat in silence.

complete silence. he doesn’t even look at you.

why isn’t he looking at you? you’re in your pajamas already. no bra. short shorts. you thought you’d both established that that worked on him.

toji wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and gets up, with a grunted clean up when you’re done.

it’s so frustrating, the total lack of attention, and you’re starting to get pent up. settling back down next to megumi to watch fucking saw iv and hear him question the viability of each trap drives you crazier by the minute.

when you finally tuck in for the night, you’re anything but relaxed.

what happened to “you have one more hole for me to wreck don’t you”? toji’s so full of shit, probably too drunk to even get it up tonight anyway.

it’s those angry thoughts that lull you to slumber, regret settling deep in your gut for having ever let that horrible man inside you.

not long after you fall asleep, however, you’re stirred awake, a soft, sake-soaked breeze blowing over your face.

you crack one eye open, no surprise in your gaze because who else could it be.

toji’s smirking, crouched down, eyes searching all over your sleeping form. it sends a chill down your spine.

what do you want, you mouth to him, anger persisting against the arousal already starting to build within you.

his grin grows wider, wilder. he gets up slowly and beckons with two fingers, and like the silly fucking slut you are, you follow.

you — not toji — make sure to gingerly close the door to megumi’s room before you turn around to face him. or rather, face his chest, the flimsy cloth littered with cigarette burns that covers those muscles you finally got to know so well.

“hello?” is all you can manage to say.

he loves your indignation, loves the brattiness, will love to fuck it out of you tonight, too.

“what, don’t want it?”

you roll your eyes.

“you had to wait until megumi’s right there to say you wanna do it?” your focus wavers as he runs his hands up and down your waist. “you couldn’t have pulled me aside before?”

toji presses his leer to the side of your throat, caging you in against the wall right by the door. you let out a soft moan, hands already reaching for his arms.

“had to make sure you two weren’t gettin’ it on,” he growls into the crock of your neck, making you grimace in disgust. “i don’t like to share my toys, y’know.”

“ew, he’s your son,” the irony in your statement isn’t lost on you, the person you should actually be ewing at.

you push him away and the feeling of his abs under your palms is enough to break any rest of resolve you had in you.

toji lets out a low, satisfied laugh, throwing his head back. “exactly why i worry.”

soon enough, and unsusprisingly, he has you bent over the kitchen island, pussy stretched out and dripping on his thick cock.

“shut the fuck up,” he keeps saying when you moan, only to fuck you harder and faster and deeper.

the furniture is digging into your belly, your forearms skidding on the top. you whine softly, angling your hips so he can hit that one spot inside you that makes you see stars.

“ohhh yeah, fuck back into me,” he grabs your hair and you let out a yelp, punished with a blow to your ass. still, you do as you’re told, the sounds of your skin slapping against his growing louder, quicker.

“t-touch me, touch me, make me cum,” you beg in a desperate whisper, head straining in his grip.

toji laughs, dragging his cock out of you slowly before plunging all the way back in.

“shut up, slut,” and god, why is that so hot to you, “last i checked you weren’t in a position to make demands.”

you whimper, trying to snake a hand down your clit to do it yourself.

suddenly, toji stops.

“ah, that reminds me,” he slowly, torturously slowly to make you feel every inch of him, pulls out of you completely. then he pokes your asshole with the head of his cock.

“no,” you say in a panicked breath, trying to turn around in his grip. “no, no, not today, definitely not right now no—“

“shhh, fuck, be quiet,” he wraps his entire forearm around your throat and brings your body into his chest, nibbling at your jaw. “you’re gonna like it.”

“i don’t want to,” it’s one last attempt, the most honest one you have. toji likes fucking with you, flustering you, that much is obvious.

but is he seriously— and without any prep, too?—

he chuckles low in his throat, right into your ear.

“then ask me not to.”

he slides the tip back into your cunt and you relax a little, even moving your hips back and forth like hey! look how good my pussy is! can you just stay in it and not ruin my ass please!

“please don’t fuck my ass,” you try.

“hmm,” he hums, sliding his cockhead out. then back in. then back out.

“please, toji, don’t fuck my asshole tonight,” you clench around him, trying to take more of his length inside.

“not good enough, whore,” he slams all way back in, shoving your body into the sharp wood and making you wail. toji starts moving, fucking little noises out of you with every thrust. “say, ‘no please daddy not there, not my little asshole!’”

you let out a long, pitchy whine, clawing at the arm around your neck.

“do it or else,” toji gathers up some wetness at your entrance with your thumb and presses it to your asshole, rubbing little wet circles.

“fuck you, toj—ahh,” his finger slips inside and you clench down hard. “please! please daddy not there, not my—“

toji cackles, fucking you in earnest now, plowing every word and thought out of your brain. you’re grunting with the force of his thrusts, finding purchase in the edges of the kitchen island, knuckles turning white.

“such a good little girl, aren’t ya,” he says into the shell of your ear, snaking a hand around your hip to rub your puffy clit.

you throw your head back onto his shoulder, legs shaking in between his. “ahhh, fuck, d-daddy—“

your orgasm washes over you so forcefully that you feel like folding in two, going limp in toji’s grip as he chases his own.

he buries a few low, animalistic grunts into your hair before he’s filling up your cunt, aborted little thrusts pushing out staccato breaths from his lips.

he releases his grip on you, cock still spurting out the rest of his load.

once he pulls out, toji keeps feeding his cum into your pussy over and over, telling you to watch the floors before you have to limp your way to the bathroom to clean up.

you do the best you can without taking a shower, body so thoroughly exhausted that you don’t even know if you’d have the energy for one.

right now, all you want is to plop down on a soft surface and get some much needed sleep, feeling actually satisfied.

when you leave the bathroom, you’re faced with a groggy, disheveled megumi standing by his bedroom door.

your eyes quickly scan your surroundings.

toji is nowhere to be seen.

megumi’s eyes reveal nothing, none of the thoughts that might be going through his head right now.

as for you, there’s only one word bouncing around inside your skull:

fuck.

a/n sorry again

[satoruxx]

pairing: gojo satoru x reader summary: best friend!satoru is everything to me, fluff, teeny tiny bit angsty, but only bc of pining (my favorite), here to add to my simp satoru agenda, he’s trying his best but reader is oblivious (same), pls notice him rheya’s note: i cant stop thinking about best friend!satoru so i’m here to share this silly little blurb LMAO that’s it enjoy !! part 2

if satoru had known that being your best friend would be this difficult, he would have turned away from you when you said hi to him on your first day at jujutsu high.

it's not that he doesn't care about you. no, quite the opposite actually. he's always cared about you more than he'd like to admit. he can remember the way he used track the eyes of fellow students trailing you when you walked by. he can remember the sting of his nails as they dug into his clenched palms, and how suguru would pat his shoulder sympathetically when he noticed. he was sixteen at the time.

back then it seemed like he would grow out of his teenage crush, after being dismissed as your good friend for so long. but no, just his luck that these stupid feelings would grow and grow until they were tangled up around his very soul. a vice-like grip.

and now almost seven years later, nothing has changed.

"and he told me that if i wanted to be more interesting i should learn to fence, like he does!" you rant, throwing your hands up as you pace the length of his kitchen. satoru leans against the counter, arms crossed as he watches you vent your anger over yet another failed first date.

"uh huh." he acknowledges, trying to stay focused as you continue your annoyed speech. his fingers flex against his biceps, a thinly veiled attempt at controlling his frustration. whether he's frustrated with you or the man you were with, he has no clue.

"then he asked me where i was from, and then said i didn't look like it!" you rage, face hot as you finally unload the frustration you've been carrying all evening.

satoru huffs in mild irritation, trying hard not to roll his eyes. but you hear it and turn to him, half ticked off and half curious. "what was that?"

he clicks his tongue.

"you do this all the time. you always pick guys who treat you like shit. i'm not even surprised anymore." he snaps, a bit more forceful than he intended to be.

there's a silence that follows, and satoru’s unlucky enough to catch the mildly surprised look on your face. he tongues his cheek, brows pinched as he watches your expression fall. an ugly feeling that reminds him suspiciously of guilt rolls around in his stomach.

"you’re right…" you sigh, shoulders slumping as you cross your arms with a defeated shake of your head. "it's just tiring, you know?"

he turns his back to you, reaching across the counter to start slicing up an apple, trying to keep his hands occupied because they're itching to touch you. but he can't keep the bitterness out of his tone when he answers with a clipped, "yeah i know."

he can practically feel your confused stare on his back. but then you chuckle in amusement, mirth clear in your tone. "what do you mean you know? you literally get attention from random people on the street. you can have anyone you want." you laugh.

"are you serious?" he asks, eyes wide with disbelief as he spins around to face you again. you only blink at him, expression so annoyingly clueless it makes him sigh. he turns away from you once again, going back to cutting the apple.

"what?" you cock your head, not understanding why he's so forlorn about it. "most people would jump at the chance to date you. everyone wants you, you know?"

"not everyone. not the one who matters." he mutters bitterly as he places the apple slices onto a plate. you said all of it so casually, like it's supposed to be obvious, but all satoru feels is an overwhelming wave of disappointment wash over him.

"you…never mind." he relents, biting his tongue. "it's not important."

he hears your sharp intake of breath as you gasp, curiosity no doubt brimming in your barely concealed grin.

"ooh interesting! are you telling me you have a thing for someone, toru?" the teasing in your tone is palpable, and satoru feels his stomach flip pleasantly when you say his name. he turns around to face you, letting his shoulders drop as a helpless smile stretches across his face.

he walks up to you, pushing an apple slice past your lips and chuckling quietly. you're still giving him those curious little eyes as you chew, and he tries to swallow down the overwhelming wave of pure affection that threatens to burst from within. clearly today wasn't the day you were going to realize what kind of feelings he's been keeping a secret for so many years.

that's okay. he'll wait as long as you need him to.

he flicks your forehead gently, before reaching down to tug on your cheek. "don't worry your pretty little head about that, sweet thing. you'll figure it out soon enough."

[lovelyhan]

— favorite poison ⟢

pairing: wonwoo x reader

summary: no strings attached sex is easy. catching feelings for a person you supposedly hate is hard. it's in times like this when wonwoo wishes he can set the dial to his life on easy mode forever, but everyone knows he's nothing if not stubbornly competitive.

word count: 15.5k words

tags: fuck buddies, not quite enemies to lovers, streamer!wonwoo, streamer!reader, attempt at humor, in denial!wonwoo, angst, smut

warnings: mentions of twitter porn, brief discussions of past trauma, slut shaming, mild violence (wonwoo punches someone in the face), graphic sexual content (minors dni!!)

notes: this is the sequel to underlying pretense! thank you so much for waiting so so patiently for this second part! big thank you to @playmetheclassics for proofreading this monster sequel for me >< i wouldn't have done this without you, indi UEUEUE

this is part of the game over series!

smut tags: implied semi-public sex, game chair sex? jealousy, clothed sex, use of handcuffs, brief spanking, car sex, unprotected sex, oral (m and f receiving), fingering, degradation, dirty talk, daddy kink, hard and soft dom wonwoo, creampie, cum eating, aftercare

svt taglist: @wonderfulshinee - @misssugarlips - @yourfavoritefreakyhan - @jeanjacketjesus - @just-here-to-read-01 - @hanihans - @venusrae - @taestrwbrry - @minnie-mouser22 - @dreamhannies - @thvhannie - @kkooongie - @gae-uls - @lenireads - @gaebestie - @ryusha-rose - @enhacolor - @ilyvern - @woo8hao - @tommolex

wonwoo taglist: @renjunphile - @acgyu - @potatofrieswithketchup - @pluviophile-xxx - @pretty-trustme

fic taglist: @appachicken - @bekah931215

part one - part two - part three - part four

“So when are you introducing me?” 

The buzz of visitors inside the convention hall is already grating enough as it is, but when Mingyu walks over to Wonwoo’s designated booth, all it does is irritate him further.

He doesn’t exactly have to do anything aside from receive gifts from the viewers coming to pay him a visit and take a few photos with them, but Wonwoo is yet to accustom himself to being the center of attraction in front of so many people. So listening to his roommate-slash-best friend asking him stupid questions isn’t helping his case.

“To who? My family?” Wonwoo scoffs. 

Mingyu rolls his eyes. “No. Your girlfriend, genius.”

“What the hell are you even talking about?”

His best friend pouts, and Wonwoo is having a really tough time taking him seriously because Mingyu is wearing one of those hats with bunny ears that flop around if you press the buttons dangling from the front. “You’re always scampering off with some girl from time to time. The others haven’t noticed, but I’m your roommate, hyung.”

Roughly three months have passed since Wonwoo bit the bullet and agreed to be your…fuck buddy? Not-so-friend with benefits? Whatever this arrangement is called, he’s satisfied with getting to let off steam every once in a while, and you don’t seem to have any complaints as long as he fucked you stupid and helped you make filthy content for all the world to see. 

Honest to god, it’s a miracle how shit hasn’t hit the fan yet. But then again, you and Wonwoo were both careful and extremely selective about what gets posted on your secret Twitter porn account and what stays tucked away in the hidden galleries in your phones. That sort of cautiousness is rewarded with having to get away with everything you’re both daring enough to pull off behind the scenes.

Still, it doesn’t change the fact that, outside his sexual relations with you, Twitch streamers everyone_woo and Koyahngi pretty much hate each other’s guts. Even if yours is the best fucking pussy he’s ever had (something you’ll never catch him dead admitting aloud), he’s not about to do a complete one-eighty and treat you any differently in front of his friends and followers. You don’t seem to have any plans on doing that either.

Wonwoo hasn’t once brought you to their shared apartment, so he’s certain that Mingyu is basing all his hunches on pure intuition alone. And just because that intuition turns out to be somewhat right (PSA: you’re not his girlfriend) doesn’t mean Wonwoo has to come clean about his goings-on.

Besides, they’re at a fucking convention. Why is Mingyu trying to hotseat him now? 

“What gave you the impression that I’m ‘scampering off’ with just one girl?” Wonwoo smirks, shaking his head. 

“Whatever you say, elusive gamer who hasn’t felt the touch of a woman that isn’t his mom.”

“Fuck you. You know that’s not true.”

“Well, obviously, you’re smitten with someone, and once I find out who it is, I’m throwing the biggest party in Seoul,” Mingyu says with a huff of indignance coloring his words. He says it like it’s a threat, and Wonwoo makes a face at him. 

“Why?” he asks with a scowl.

“Because I love you, that’s why.” Mingyu then takes off the stupid hat and places it on top of Wonwoo’s head—even putting the work into making sure it fits and everything. “Anyway, I’m heading to Koyahngi’s booth to say hi. You wanna come with, or do you still have a stick up your ass when it comes to hanging out with her?”

Wonwoo has to keep himself from blurting out how he’s not the one with anything up his ass when it comes to you but realizes that if he wants to get Mingyu off his back, he probably shouldn’t make traumatizing allusions to his sex life. 

“I can’t exactly leave my spot until the main program starts. The same goes for you, idiot,” Wonwoo points out. “Who knows how many of your subscribers are looking for you at your booth? Go away and tend to them first.”

Mingyu pouts again, but since his best friend is a guy that’s literally a six-foot wall of muscle, Wonwoo doesn’t feel even an ounce of sympathy for him. “I haven’t even been gone for ten minutes! I just wanted to see how my friends are doing.”

“Then you shouldn’t have set up a booth at all, Gyu.” 

“Hmph. You’re always so stingy, hyung.” Mingyu crosses his arms before turning on his heel. “Anyway, I’m heading over to Koyahngi’s. I heard she’s cosplaying Sage today. Not that you care, though.”

He sounds so genuinely sulky that Wonwoo would’ve laughed a little as Mingyu stomps away to head to your booth. But the mention of you dressing up as a Valorant agent that Wonwoo has started to despise since meeting you makes a couple of memories from earlier this week resurface in his mind. 

Aside from the catgirl gimmick, your cosplays are but another selling point for your streams. You dubbed it the catgirlification of every playable character I like right after Wonwoo railed you two days ago in that same Sage cosplay that Mingyu just mentioned. 

What a fucking weirdo, Wonwoo mused for a second before blowing your back out again, not five minutes later.

About an hour later, the program on the main stage was in full swing, and Wonwoo had just finished doing a little segment with Soonyoung that one of the fans who won a raffle requested for them to do. It was a Pocky Game that got a little too intense because Soonyoung wouldn’t stop fucking squirming, and they nearly kissed in front of the entire audience. Wonwoo doesn’t entirely mind because PR is PR, after all.

The thing he does end up minding, though, comes a little later—after the convention hall settles into a more relaxed atmosphere and everyone is back to booth-hopping. 

Despite what he told Mingyu earlier, Wonwoo took it upon himself to do some wandering around. It’s kind of nice to see other streamers and content creators he’s only ever got to interact with on Discord or their respective streams.

But while he’s munching on a cherry-shaped cookie that Seungcheol is handing out to his visitors, the bane of his existence swoops down on him just when he thought he could finish this entire event in peace.

“Hey, daddy,” you giggle into his ear before swiping the cookie out of his hands, tossing it into your mouth without a second thought. “Didn’t think I’d get to see you today.”

Wonwoo clicks his tongue before shrugging off the arm you draped around his shoulder. “What do you want?”

“Nothing in particular,” you hum before swallowing the food you just stole from him. “But now that I got a taste of Cheol’s cherry cookies, I kinda want some more. Do you know where he is?” 

“I think I saw him flirting with a bunch of cosplayers near the stage.”

Wonwoo startles at the sound of a third party’s voice intruding in your conversation, and from the looks of it, you’re just as startled as he is. Turning around, though, his apprehension ebbs away when he recognizes who it is.

“Johnny,” he says with a small surprised smile before offering his hand for a casual shake. “It’s been a while.”

The famous streamer returns Wonwoo’s gesture gingerly, but he realizes that Johnny’s gaze isn’t trained on him at all. 

“It has been,” he chuckles before turning to you. “I didn’t know you were friends with Wonwoo, doll. How you got someone as cold as he is to warm up to you is beyond me, but at least you’re expanding your network.”

Wonwoo would’ve rolled his eyes. Johnny is just as frank as he remembers. But before Wonwoo can point out that: 1.) you and him are not friends, and 2.) he is not a cold person and therefore has absolutely no need to warm up to anyone, he quickly picks up on the sudden shift in the air. And it’s not his or Johnny’s discomfort he’s sensing right now. 

“Nah, you’ve got the wrong idea,” you respond to Johnny casually, but Wonwoo doesn’t miss how your fists are clenched at your sides. “Wonwoo would rather get banned from Twitch than call me his friend. I just like pissing him off every now and again, is all~ That, and his friends are pretty cool, so I need to tolerate him.”

Johnny laughs before reaching down to ruffle your carefully styled wig. To others, it would’ve looked like a display of casual affection between friends, but Wonwoo is keen enough to notice how you momentarily flinched from the older streamer’s touch. His brows knit together as he attempts to figure out what was going on.

Actually, how do you even know Johnny in the first place?

“Anyway, I’ll be going now,” he laughs before letting one eye drop into a wink. “It’s good to see both of you. Enjoy the rest of the convention, yeah?”

As Johnny exits, you’re a little too quick to fill in the silence he left.

“You’ve gotta take me to Cheol before he runs out of cookies,” you whine, tugging on his arm with a persistent look on his face—not even breathing a word about Johnny, as if it hasn’t been two minutes since he left. “I’m pretty sure I saw him wearing a Pikachu onesie, so he should be easy to—”

Wonwoo immediately cuts you off with a quick yank of your wrist. As he leads you to one of the unoccupied restrooms near the convention hall, your voice drones in annoyingly repetitive succession in his ears while you struggle to free yourself from his grip, but Wonwoo just won’t budge.

Not when he can’t get the sight of you with genuine fear in your gaze when you first laid your eyes on Johnny out of his head.

“Shit,” you whisper hoarsely the moment Wonwoo slams you against the door—a shit-eating grin resting haughtily on your lips as he nudges your thighs apart. “I knew you were possessive, but not this much. Johnny just gave me a few head pats, daddy. It doesn’t mean a thing.”

Yeah. Wonwoo is totally doing this out of some pathetic, alpha male need to stake his claim after another man got his grubby hands on you. Not because he was bothered by that look on your face and can’t think of any other way to help get your mind off it aside from fucking you senseless in a public bathroom.

“Shut up,” he murmurs before forcing your cheek against the cold door. “Now, take off your leggings before I tear a hole in them myself. Can’t mess up your perfect fucking Sage cosplay now, can we?”

You let out a noise caught between a sigh and a whimper as you do as you're told. From three months ago to now, your general opinion on Jeon Wonwoo as a dom has yet to change. Even if he was about to rail you with a fluffy bunny beanie still resting on top of his head.

He’s fucking perfect.

Right after that unplanned quickie, Wonwoo is at least keen enough to observe his surroundings as both of you discreetly part ways and sneak back into the convention. Since the main events were taking place on the other side of the venue, not a lot of people were milling around, and he thankfully manages to blend into the crowd without rousing everyone’s suspicion. 

Well, almost everyone.

“You’re a pretty shitty actor; you know that?”

Wonwoo doesn’t have to turn around to recognize the smugness in Seungcheol’s tone. The moment he lays his eyes on one of his closest friends—still wearing that silly Pikachu onesie and giving out his cherry cookies—he knows he can’t weasel himself out of this conversation so easily. 

“What do you mean?” Wonwoo says, deciding to play along to gauge what Seungcheol does and doesn’t know.

The older man scoffs. “Come on, Wonwoo-yah. You weren’t being very discreet when you pulled our very good cat girl friend into the restroom. Doesn’t help that you both came out looking dishevelled as fuck. So much for hating each other, huh?” 

Okay. He has nothing left to hide then. Great.

“Were we that obvious?” Wonwoo lowers his voice into a whisper, and the only reason he’s genuinely asking is because Seungcheol isn’t the type to joke around about these kinds of things.

“Only to the eyes of someone who personally knows the both of you,” he snickers. “Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me.”

Wonwoo’s brows knit together, perplexed, but offers no more smart retorts. His heart is still pounding in his chest at the thought of having been seen with you. Fuck. He isn’t usually this careless. Then and there, he makes a mental note to not let his emotions pull the reins on his decisions next time.

“Thanks, hyung,” is all he tells Seungcheol in return. “I’m heading back. Uh, she was looking for you, by the way. Something about wanting more of your cookies.”

Seungcheol visibly perks up at the news, and Wonwoo has to resist the urge to roll his eyes. What is it with his friends and having some weird soft spot for you? 

As Wonwoo quietly slips back into his booth—greeting a bunch of his fans but not in a sociable mood—he recalls the prickle of heat in his chest when he saw how uncomfortable you were during that short conversation with Johnny. The memory makes his curiosity spike again, and he considers asking you about it the next time you invite him over.

But then he reminds himself that he does not have a soft spot for you unlike his friends. None at all. He’s just being a decent human being for having a modicum of concern because of how you reacted towards someone Wonwoo knows to be completely harmless. 

Aside  from the occasional NSFW spam on Twitter, Johnny’s pretty harmless, right?

“Hyung! Group pic, c’mon!” 

Wonwoo hears Mingyu call out to him several booths over and sighs. He probably shouldn’t put too much thought into something he won’t be able to figure out in the next five minutes anyway.

The next time Wonwoo comes over to your apartment is to try out some new heart-shaped handcuffs you bought online. You wouldn’t stop gushing about it to him over text, and he has half the mind to just cuff you to the bed and leave because of how annoying you’re being.

But for some reason, the handcuffs lay forgotten on your unmade bed as Wonwoo sits right in front of your set-up—begrudgingly listening to your instructions as he attempts to solve an overworld puzzle in that stupid game you and Soonyoung kept pestering him to play. Genshin Impact, yeah, that’s the one. 

“You have to hit the purple towers with Electro attacks, idiot,” you sigh. “Dendro is for green towers. Hydro is for blue towers. Did you happen to skip kindergarten or something?”

“I thought elemental reactions applied to these, too,” he grumbles. “You’re the one who said that Dendro and Hydro are good with Electro.” 

“Yeah, yeah, keep making excuses, color dunce.”

Normally, Wonwoo wouldn’t have taken the insult lying down, but he stubbornly chooses to solve the puzzle until he’s finally unlocked the hidden desert area you claimed to be ‘too lazy to figure out right away’. A hint of smugness crosses his features as he flashes you a triumphant grin. Wonwoo half-expects you to just roll your eyes and blame his progress on dumb luck or something, but to his surprise, you clap your hands gleefully before placing a sloppy kiss on his cheek.

“Who’s my smart little gamer, huh?”

“Fuck off.”

It’s perfectly normal for him to hear you challenge his authority outside the bedroom. After all, you’ve made it your life’s mission to push all of Wonwoo’s buttons until he cracks and manhandles you in a way that leaves no room for your brattiness to slip out. Sometimes he likes to think that you rile him up on purpose because the so-called consequences end up rewarding you sexually tenfold instead. Which, Wonwoo thinks, is fucking sick, but from how much he lets you get away with it anyway, he figures that he’s got a few screws loose himself.

“Anyway, how about we check if you’ve got shit luck on gacha games or not,” you announce before nudging your customized gaming chair with your foot—the same one Wonwoo’s currently sitting on—so you can have better access to your mouse and keyboard. “Soonyoung’s luck is abysmal as hell. The only reason he’s got such a spiffy account is because of all those sponsors.”

Wonwoo scoffs. “Are you saying yours is any better?”

“Hey, I’ve got decent luck, mind you,” you huff before clicking a few times, and a new window pulls up on-screen, which Wonwoo recognizes as the wishing page. Soonyoung has shown it to him and the other guys enough times to remember what it looks like.

“Go on, just click the times ten button,” you urge him before tugging your gaming chair back to its original position. “It’s gonna let you wish for a character ten times, basically.”

“I know how gacha games work,” Wonwoo bites back.

“Of course you do,” you coo as he finally does a full summons.

He swears he’s going to edge you until you’re begging and crying later. It’s the least you could do for being such a pain in—

His vengeful thoughts are interrupted when you gasp out loud—eyes glued to the monitor as the shooting star glows like iridescent gold. Wonwoo doesn’t know shit about Genshin, but he’s pretty sure he just pulled a really rare character.

“I just pulled a five-star yesterday.” You scowl, staring at him disbelievingly. “How on earth—”

To your dismay, Wonwoo accidentally clicks on your mouse—ending the entire animation sequence a bit too early. But just when you’re about to berate him for being impatient, your jaw practically falls to the floor when you see all ten of your (technically Wonwoo’s) wish results.

He managed to bring home the featured five-star character five times. Five fucking times. Holy shit?

As you visibly freak out in your seat, bemoaning the fact that this legendary pull happened off-stream, Wonwoo stares at you bizarrely like he always does. You immediately take a screenshot, explaining that the probability of what just happened was several times less likely than you letting him fuck you while you’re livestreaming, but Wonwoo’s mind wanders a little right after that.

So…you would let him fuck you on stream, then? 

Not that it’s something he’s thought about before. Wonwoo likes the privacy your set-up affords him with, and he’s not about to jeopardize that with by committing such an inexplicable act of exhibitionism. But the mere picture it paints in his head is enough to make him swallow thickly. 

One of your stupidly short skirts bunched up to your waist. His hands kneading your breasts as he snaps his hips from behind you. All those pretty noises you make only for him now being heard by your incel-ridden fanbase. He bets they’d even like seeing their beloved Koyahngi get railed on-cam, but the thought of anyone else seeing you in ways only Wonwoo has had the privilege to makes his blood boil.

“Hm? You’ve gone quiet. What’s up?”

His eyes flicker over to your form—knees pressed against your chest underneath the oversized tee you’re wearing. You like to dress comfortably when you’re off-stream, which is understandable because even if you’re just sitting in front of a computer screen, doing so in full cosplay can be a huge hassle. He’s always wondered how you have it in you to put in all that effort for your viewers.

Curiosity lingers in your gaze when he prolongs the silence, but Wonwoo can’t bring himself to answer—mind too preoccupied with a whirlwind of thoughts to articulate any sort of reply. 

He can excuse those horny assholes on Twitter—your main target audience for the filthier content you make on the side. They have no idea who it is they’re really jacking off to anyway. But if some lesser man deigns to even think he deserves to look at you—the real you—while you’re writhing in the throes of pleasure…

You let out an undignified yelp when Wonwoo abruptly pulls you onto his lap, awkwardly straddling him as he stares at you intensely through the lens of his glasses. He can vaguely hear you muttering something about impatient men under your breath, but Wonwoo knows your irritation with him holds little to no weight with how you fold your legs on either side of his hips so his large hands can have better access to your ass.

“This is what you invited me for, isn’t it?” he murmurs, giving your backside a squeeze that has you mewling in response. 

Wonwoo smirks. What a needy little thing.

You gulp. “Y-Yeah, but—”

“Strip.”

“Wonwoo, I’ve gotta post about the wish results!”

He stares at you, unimpressed, and lets his hands fall onto the arm rests of your gaming chair, making you whimper at the loss of his touch. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”

The effect of his authoritative tone manifests all too quickly. You bite your lower lip as you tug on the hem of your shirt, lifting it up just to tease a sliver of skin underneath. Wonwoo narrows his eyes, fully cognizant of what you’re trying to do, but it seems that you know better than to piss him off even further. 

Your shirt falls to the floor and Wonwoo has to keep himself from groaning at the sight before him. It’s one thing for you to forego a bra, but panties, too?

“Do you like it, daddy?” 

Knowing you, the question is meant to taunt than anything else, but Wonwoo lets it pass anyway.

It always drives him mad, how subtle you are whenever you want to get a rise out of him. The way you roll your hips into Wonwoo’s has a tantalizing feel to it and he has to grit his teeth to keep himself from snapping. He’ll play your games and drag this on for as long as he has to. Because he’s been with you long enough to know how much you love it when Wonwoo lets you have an illusion of authority for a sliver of a second, only to bully you into submission right after. 

“Fuck,” you whisper the moment the outline of his erection grazes your bare pussy. “Missed your cock so much… It’s been a while since I’ve had you inside me.”

Wonwoo scoffs. “And whose fault is that?”

“How was I supposed to know these conventions were scheduled one after the other?” You pout before grinding deliciously against his cock once again. He can practically feel how wet you are through his sweats and it doesn’t help that each forward motion brings your perky breasts closer to his face.

Wonwoo lets out another sigh as he wraps an arm around your waist before leaning down to latch his lips onto one of your nipples. You quickly jolt in response—not expecting him to indulge you with pleasure so quickly—but his actions spur you on. As his tongue expertly flicks across your sensitive bud, you quickly haul his aching cock out of the confines of his sweats, grinding your slit across his thick girth. 

You’re convinced that this is enough to get you off. Though you’ve memorized how the bulging veins on Wonwoo’s cock feels like inside you, having each ridge graze across your clit prickles the back of your head with newfound pleasure. A growl reverberates in his chest as you expertly slide your pussy along his dick, and you brace your hands on his broad shoulders to anchor yourself.

“Daddy,” you whine. “Can I? Please? Want it so bad.”

The words are punctuated with a pained moan when Wonwoo’s mouth trails higher before biting down on the junction between your neck and shoulders. He doesn’t miss the way your cunt momentarily pulses from his aggression, and he gladly guides your hips as you rub yourself all over his cock.

“My good little whore, always asking permission first,” he chuckles. “Go ahead. Fuck yourself on my cock.”

Wonwoo lifts you off his lap for a moment, earning himself a whine in protest, but when you realize he’s going to take off his sweats, you practically salivate once his strong thighs ease back onto your gaming chair. You don’t bother catching his gaze for an implicit confirmation. You simply sink down on his cock like you’ve been craving for days. 

A choked out moan gets caught in the back of your throat when he fills you to the brim—making your brain go blank for a moment before you remember to start doing as he asked. Wonwoo watches you through an intense, hooded gaze. The only indication that he’s even feeling remotely good is the way his fingers grip the arm rests tighter whenever your walls clench around him every now and again.

Despite the pure, unadulterated bliss that surges through you every time you’re mounted on Wonwoo’s length, it pisses you off how put-together he typically looks like when you’re on top.

You want to see him just as depraved as you are—panting and thrusting into you like he’ll die if he doesn’t fuck you deep enough. But you can never get Wonwoo to handle you the way you want to be handled when you’re riding him like this. As much as you like seeing those sharp eyes watching your every move, the only way he’ll truly fuck you like you deserve is…

Wonwoo’s brows are quick to furrow once you promptly lift yourself off his lap—length slipping out of your pussy as you make your way towards the bed. However, when you spread yourself out on the mattress face down, ass up, it definitely sparks his interest.

And like a cherry on top, you place those heart-shaped handcuffs of yours on the swell of your ass, almost like you’re inviting him to play with you.

The next thing he knows, the worn out threads of his self-control have snapped. He’s behind you not a moment later—hissing through his teeth as he throws his shirt somewhere on the floor. 

You moan when Wonwoo continues grinding his cock against your ass while he yanks both of your wrists behind you. The cold bite of the handcuffs alerts you to what you’ve allowed him to do, and when the lock clicks in place, you stifle a shuddering sigh into the sheets.

Suddenly, his breath is right next to your ear. “Where’s the key for this thing?” 

You feel Wonwoo tug against the fake metal to test for sturdiness, and you feel your chest warm at his discretion. Though he’s, by no means, soft with you, he always takes the time to check if you’re comfortable with what you’re about to do together—no matter how subtle.

“On the nightstand,” you tell him all while pushing your ass back to meet his shallow thrusts. “You can go wild with the cuffs, daddy. They’re high quality for a reason.”

A low, devilish laugh escapes him. 

“Be careful what you wish for, slut.”

He’s merciless with the way he slides his length back into your sopping hole, one hand pushing the back of your head further into the mattress as the other yanks at the chain link of the handcuffs. Each powerful stroke sends you forward on the bed, and his name tumbles in broken syllables from your mouth as he fucks the shape of his cock into you.

“That’s not what you’re supposed to call me,” he growls before snapping his hips with a particularly punishing thrust. “We’ve barely even started and I’ve already fucked you stupid? Are you so hungry for cock that you’ve already forgotten who I am?” 

“I-I’m sorry, daddy!” you whimper as he pounds into you relentlessly. “Just feels s-so fucking good. Love your cock so much!” 

“Yeah?” Wonwoo lets out a patronizing laugh before tugging on the handcuffs again—putting a delicious strain on your arms that amplifies your pleasure in some twisted way. “When you were out there dolling yourself up for conventions, did you think about my cock? Did you want me to fill you with my cum in the restroom again? You really fucking liked it when I did that to your Sage cosplay, didn’t you?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you babble as tears start to cascade down your cheeks. “Want to get split open on your cock forever, daddy! Want your cum dripping down my thighs when there’s tons of people around—ah!” 

The sharp sound of one of Wonwoo’s palms colliding with the meat of your ass rings in your ears, and it leaves a pleasurable sting sizzling across your flesh. You can’t help the surge of pride that fills you as Wonwoo moans out loud the moment your pussy clenched around him in surprise.

“Dirty fucking cockslut,” he rasps. “You just love it when you’re being filthy for everyone to see.”

For a moment, you’re liberated from the steady burn your arms have been sustaining in such a complex position. Wonwoo surrenders his grip on the handcuffs—letting your bound wrists fall uselessly atop the small of your back. His cock doesn’t quite slip out of you, but you feel him move around from behind. You crane your neck to see what he’s up to, but when you see him angling his phone in a shot that would definitely make for good content to post later, you feel your arousal spark tenfold.

“Now be a good fucking girl for daddy, and let him show everyone how filthy you are.”

The moment the telltale sound of the record button being pressed hits your ears, Wonwoo reclaims his grip on your dainty handcuffs before resuming his ministrations. You let out a long-winded moan as you meet his powerful thrusts, hands instinctively straining against your restraints out of the need to rub your throbbing clit for faster release, but you know it’s a futile effort.

Behind you, Wonwoo is practically losing his mind over the sight of your creamy essence coating his cock with each slide of his hips. You’re extra responsive with the handcuffs as expected. You’ve always had a thing for switching things up in the bedroom, but you’re clenching around him even tighter than usual. 

He tells himself to just film a few seconds of you getting railed with your heart-shaped handcuffs adding more spice into the mix. Then he can truly have his way with you. 

When he’s satisfied, Wonwoo quickly discards his phone on your bed—eyes darting towards your nightstand before he spots what he’s looking for. Another needy whine reverberates in the air when his cock slips out of you so he can walk over to retrieve it. 

Like the good whore you are, you don’t even move an inch. You patiently wait for Wonwoo to return and fill you up again even if the fact that he’s making you wait in the first place makes you want to be a brat. But when you feel the handcuffs fall away from your wrists after he unlocks them, you whip your head around to flash him a startled look. 

Wonwoo tosses your newest toy away with little concern for their well-being before grabbing your face—crushing your lips together in an open-mouthed kiss.

“Mine,” he growls before manhandling you so that you’re laying on your back. “This slutty fucking pussy belongs to me, got that?”

You nod, moaning as he presses his tongue deep into your mouth. You would say yours in return, but you’re blindsided by the way Wonwoo throws your legs over his shoulders—plunging his fat dick back into the velvet heat of your cunt.

As he whispers the filthiest things into your ear, you figure that Wonwoo must have been just as pent up as you are. The consistency of his thrusts is starting to falter—sharp, calculated thrusts turning erratic and sloppy as his orgasm starts to catch up to him. 

With your hands free, you’re able to reach between your thighs in a feeble attempt at finding your clit. However, when Wonwoo catches wind of what you’re trying to do, he slaps your hand away—eyes boring into you with so much angry disappointment, you would’ve cried and begged for his forgiveness right then and there.

“Come on my cock or don’t come at all, whore,” he warns. “I’m already generous enough to have you writhing on my dick, and you can’t even be grateful about that?”

“I am, daddy!” You insist, tears threatening to spill again as you lace your arms around his neck. “You’re hitting me so deep. I’m g-gonna come soon, please—”

“Does my pretty cockslut want me to come inside her?” Wonwoo whispers before pressing your knees against your breasts. “Does she want me to fill her slutty pussy with my cum?”

“I want it, daddy. Want you to fill me up,” you beg as you desperately tug him down for a kiss. 

Normally, Wonwoo would’ve denied you simply because he can, and you wouldn’t be able to do a thing about it. But for some reason, he lets himself fall into you—lips latching onto yours like he’s done hundreds of times before. 

It seems like the kiss is what catalyzes your release, and Wonwoo groans into your mouth when he feels your walls clamp down on his cock—desperately milking him for his cum. He isn’t too far behind. All it takes is a few more pistons of his hips before he stills inside you. 

The sensation of being filled with his hot cum makes you pull away from his lips as another long-winded moan sings in his ears. Wonwoo’s shudders from the aftermath of his release, all while slowly fucking his emission deeper into your cunt. From the satisfied purr that escapes you, he thinks you like it just as much as he does.

Wonwoo really didn’t plan on staying over. Really, he didn’t. But the way you tug him back down on the mattress right after he’s finished cleaning you up makes him a bit too hyper-aware of his own aching muscles—both from this morning’s weight training and the several rounds he just shared with you. So he lets you snuggle closer to his clothed chest, the warmth from both of your bodies permeating into each other. He’s never felt more toasty beneath a comforter than he does now.

“This is nice,” you tell him quietly. “I wonder if people will like it if I posted videos of us just cuddling.”

Wonwoo laughs, thumbs absentmindedly caressing the red marks left by your handcuffs. “Doubt it.”

Your silly lo-fi music still plays from your computer's speakers , but neither of you could be assed to get up and turn it off. Wonwoo wouldn’t call himself a professional cuddler—you two have only cuddled a total of three times since you started fucking around, and you often complained about how stiff he always is—but from how comfortably your limbs slot into his, he supposes that he’s doing an okay job.

There’s a hint of intimacy charging the air, one that’s leagues different from the carnal lust that clouds his brain every time he fucks you. His chest twists with each passing moment, and Wonwoo makes the mistake of flickering his eyes on your half-asleep form pressed against him. 

It’s been months since you and him started fooling around, but he knows perfectly well that he isn’t the first to have seen you so vulnerable . While he usually doesn’t give a shit about that, and Wonwoo knows the topic is quite sensitive from the little tells he could pick up on for the past few months…

“Can I ask about your old dom?”

Wonwoo can practically feel you stiffen against his touch, which is one of the main reasons why he hasn’t once tried to broach the topic in the past. Even if you could be a nuisance ninety percent of the time, he isn’t a fan of making people uncomfortable on purpose. He’s about to follow his inquiry up with the reassurance that it isn’t a big deal, and you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, but—

You squirm away from his embrace, and Wonwoo lets you, albeit hesitantly. His shoulders relax when he realizes you’re just repositioning yourself so that you can face him directly, chewing the inside of your cheek like you don’t have the words just yet. 

“He was…mean,” you whisper, forcing Wonwoo to wrap his arms around you once again. “Even meaner than you are. You’re at least a semi-decent person outside the domspace, but that guy? Piece of shit for real.”

Wonwoo nods. “But you don’t really care about that, do you?”

“Yeah. I can look past him being the meanest dom on the face of the earth. As long as he could satisfy me sexually, then we’re all good.”

“So…what made you part ways?”

Your gaze drifts to Wonwoo for a moment. He looks a lot different when his face isn’t bathed in the deep red of your mood lights. His hair is tousled, eyes squinting a little even if you aren’t that far away from him. And the earnest tone in his voice as he posits the question is something you could get used to hearing every now and again.

“Well, I don’t really do relationships, you know that right?” you say and Wonwoo nods. “My old dom didn’t get that though. He was really possessive of me even outside of our sessions together. It got to a point where he would get really…physical with me just to get the point across.”

Silence dips between the both of you—white noise ringing so loud in Wonwoo’s head, he can barely hear your shitty lo-fi playlist anymore. He’s always had a thing for making you cry during sex, but that’s all it is—some dacryphilia play to scratch both of your kinks. No matter how infuriating you are, he can’t imagine himself ever hurting you outside a pleasurable, sexual context.

Then he remembers the first time you invited him over to film some clips. How you stared at him as he cleaned you up like you aren’t used to the aftercare. Like you aren’t used to being treated delicately.

Is that because of your old shitty dom?

“He’s a fucking asshole,” Wonwoo grumbles before pressing your body closer to his. 

You chuckle. “He is. I’m glad I got out of that before things got even uglier.”

“How’d you even get rid of him?”

“Eh, it’s nothing a little blackmail won’t fix.”

Wonwoo’s brow arches at your response. You’re such an evil little minx, it’s actually admirable.

A little later, the conversation about your previous sexual partners fades away, and you’re back to tracing weird shapes on Wonwoo’s chest for him to guess. He spends half the time convincing you to just shut up and go to sleep, but he finds himself indulging you in your silly whims regardless. 

“Wonwoo, you’re a pretty great fuck buddy, you know that?”

He hums. “Why is that?”

“‘Cause you never go overboard with the stuff you do to me,” you say, eyes drifting away from his as you list off the reasons off your fingers. “You always let me annoy the shit out of you without getting pissed for real. You’re good at keeping secrets, too. Oh, and I never have to worry about you looking for anything more than this since you’re a pretty laid back guy. Def not the commitment type, which is exactly my type.”

Wonwoo scoffs. “If I become someone that isn’t your type, would that get you off my back?”

“I doubt that would ever happen,” you giggle.

For some reason, part of him wishes for the same thing.

But you don’t have to know about that.

On the morning of Soonyoung’s birthday, Wonwoo wakes up irritated.

He had a dream about you—one where you stopped being fuck buddies with him because you wanted to try things out again with your old dom. Someone that Wonwoo doesn’t even know, not even by name. Yet the rage that dream-Wonwoo felt upon seeing you hand-in-hand with some faceless punk as you both left him in the dust is almost too lifelike to ignore. 

So, he does something stupid.

He pulls up his phone—ignoring every message asking if he’s going to show up for Soonyoung’s party later—and pulls up his Twitter app. He doesn’t spend much time there, even if he is co-managing your super secret porn account. In fact, he eventually muted the notifs for that too, when the appeal of having your illicit acts shared to the unknowing public finally fizzled out. 

But he doesn’t log in to check the notifications you’ve amassed, as well as the pathetic DMs asking where your location was so they could fly in to fuck you themselves. No, Wonwoo scrolls past all the content you’ve made with him to unearth things best left in the past.

Like the videos he films with his own camera, the ones you made with your old dom are more than discreet—despite the hyper-possessive tendencies you’ve mentioned. There’s absolutely nothing to be gleaned about his identity, and Wonwoo is left wondering how stupid he’s being for wanting to know who it was that made you feel good before he came into the picture.

Why does it matter anyway, right? 

Even if you did hypothetically leave him to fuck around with your old shitty dom—or anyone else for the matter—why would it matter to Wonwoo? The two of you aren’t even friends. And if you had some other person to bother, that would mean less shit for him to deal with.

But why does the thought of letting someone else have you fill him with so much vitriol that Wonwoo nearly melts his cereal bowl with his glare alone when he comes out for breakfast?

“Hyung,” Mingyu calls out from the seat adjacent to his, rightfully concerned. “You okay? I can always grab a new brand if you hate this one so much.”

The taut muscles on his face soften at the sulking tone to Mingyu’s voice. “Oh, uh. Sorry. It’s not that. I was just thinking.”

“Of your girlfriend?”

“...Of how I’m going to break your PS5 if you don’t cut it out with that girlfriend shit.”

Mingyu whines. “Wonwoo-hyung, I paid good money for that! But fine, I won’t pester you anymore if you’re so intent on keeping her a secret from the world.”

A secret… That’s right. 

What you and Wonwoo have is something that not even his best friend is completely aware of. Sure, Mingyu’s roommate-senses have been tingling for weeks, but Wonwoo knows that he will never really know the full story unless either you or Wonwoo let him in on the secret. 

Which will probably never happen if the two of you want to keep your careers, of course.

“Anyway, the rest of the guys are asking if you’re coming to Soonyoung’s party,” Mingyu says in an attempt to divert the conversation, thank god. “Everyone else has already replied except for you.”

“Who else is invited again?”

“Uh, our usual group, Koyahngi, and I dunno, a bunch of other streamers we know. I think some of Soonyoung’s high school friends are gonna show up as a surprise, though, but that’s just what Jihoon told me.”

Wonwoo considers the information at hand for a moment. 

He doesn’t mind mingling with fellow streamers and probably some of Soonyoung’s other friends, but the last time he’s seen you specifically is the day he bit the bullet and asked about your old dom. A conversation which ended on a pretty agreeable note despite the obvious unease on your face when Wonwoo opened the topic.

The fact that you haven’t texted him since is a little worrisome, too. It’s been about two weeks since that happened, and Wonwoo is beginning to wonder if he unknowingly hit a nerve and this is your way of sending him a message. 

He would’ve taken the initiative and checked up on you during your first week of radio silence, but when he catches you doing pretty fine on your latest streams and when he gets roped into some partnership talks with an entertainment agency that wants to recruit him, Wonwoo decides to put it off for later. 

Besides, the two of you are grown adults—so are the rest of your thirsty audience on Twitter. They can survive two weeks without content.

“Yeah, I’ll come,” he tells Mingyu about five minutes later when he’s already putting away the dishes. “What time are we leaving?”

“Uh, the party starts at seven. Do we go early or fashionably late?”

“Early.”

“Of course. Gotta put the senior citizen to bed early.”

“Mingyu?”

“Yeah?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

🐈‍⬛: Are you coming to Soonyoung’s party tonight?

🐈‍: yea, i just need to sort some stuff out

🐈‍⬛: Wow

🐈‍: ?

🐈‍⬛: I just didn’t think you’d reply

🐈‍: is daddy gonna punish me for ignoring him for so long &lt;3

🐈‍⬛: I’m being serious

🐈‍: well, so am i

🐈‍: anyway, tell soonie i’ll be there soon

🐈‍: i’m just talking to someone

🐈‍⬛: Okay

Wonwoo has been hanging out with his friends long enough to know that only a select few can really handle their liquor. It doesn’t help that today’s celebrant is the worst lightweight of them all. It’s barely thirty minutes past eight, and Soonyoung is already screaming profanities on one of the tables—using an unopened bottle of absinthe that Seungcheol gifted him with as a makeshift microphone as he belts out trashy lyrics from songs Wonwoo vaguely recognizes.

Mingyu films the entire thing on his phone, stifling his laughter while sipping on his own drink. Wonwoo can only roll his eyes at his best friend’s tolerant behavior.

At around nine, Jeonghan and Joshua arrive at the scene with a tiger-themed cake in tow, and half the friend group has to physically restrain Soonyoung just so the birthday boy could blow out his fucking candles properly. After criticizing the baker’s work (“The eyes are uneven! Tiger eyes are perfectly symmetrical!), Jeonghan rounds up the other guests to sing a loud Happy Birthday just to get Soonyoung to finally shut up. When the song comes to a close, though, Seokmin giggles a little too conspiratorially before dunking Soonyoung’s face into the cake.

It’s gatherings like this—no matter how rowdy and unacceptably loud—that make Wonwoo stick around. He might not look the part, but he loves it when he sees his friends be themselves outside of their streamer personas. It’s like high school and college all over again. 

But when the clock on his phone reads ten-thirty, and he realizes you’re still not at the venue, Wonwoo considers shooting you another text asking where you were. It’s an idea he quickly shoots down the next second because first of all, you’re not even friends. It’d be weird if he just asked out of nowhere. 

He supposes he could use wanting a quick fuck as an excuse to get some intel on your whereabouts. But the thought of lying to you doesn’t sit right with Wonwoo for some goddamn reason. 

When Mingyu offers him a drink, he half-considers taking it just to get his mind off you. He’s pretty sure his roommate has picked up on his distracted behavior, and is only attempting to soothe him somewhat with some beer. But Wonwoo reminds him that he’s one of tonight’s designated drivers and decides to pass.

Everyone in attendance is in the middle of a game of truth or dare when Wonwoo’s phone buzzes in his jacket pocket. He’s quick to excuse himself when he sees who it’s from and what message was left for him to read.

🐈‍: help me. please.

Thankfully, you had the foresight to send him your location after shooting him that cryptic text, and Wonwoo is glad to find that you’re just a few blocks away. Still, he decides to take his car since the weather decided to be a bitch, sending in an unexpected downpour in the middle of summer.

He pulls over in front of a closed bookshop once he’s sure you’re in the area—looking around for any signs of you. The streets are deserted, and Wonwoo is trying to figure out what could have possibly brought you to this place at this hour. Why didn’t you just head straight to Soonyoung’s party? 

And why did you call him for help?

Through the rain and the poor lighting, he finally spots you—standing underneath the canopy of a waiting shed next to a man whose back is turned to Wonwoo.

He doesn’t think twice. He just gets out of his car and runs in the rain—chest warming at the sight of your downcast face perking up at the sight of him. Wonwoo would’ve let himself be glad that you're safe and sound, if only your current company didn’t turn around and reveal his identity.

From the looks of it, you seemed to be having a pretty heated conversation before his arrival. Johnny was obviously annoyed when he turned to look at him, but the expression fell away when he realized the newcomer was Wonwoo. 

However, a sinister smile takes its place not a few seconds later.

“Huh, no wonder you were so quick to replace me, doll,” Johnny laughs insincerely, sharp eyes trained on Wonwoo as he stares the younger streamer up and down. “It’s him, huh?”

“This has nothing to fucking do with you, Johnny,” you grit out, but Wonwoo doesn’t miss the way your voice nearly cracks. “Can you just leave me alone? You don’t need me when you’ve got a bunch of other girls who want to suck your dick, right?”

Wonwoo observes the exchange with a stoic face that doesn’t betray his surprise. It doesn’t take a lot to realize at that moment that Johnny is most definitely the asshole dom whose face he wanted to pummel into the ground when he found out what he did to you. But the things he does know about Johnny and the things he’s just now finding out makes a storm brew inside of his head—unable to separate what’s fact from fiction.

Johnny’s a nice guy. Wonwoo knows this very well. But then again, he’s also the same person who blatantly likes Twitter porn on his official account, so where does that leave him?

“I guess you’re right, but your pussy’s a perfect fit,” Johnny chuckles. “Can’t help but want to hit that again and again, right Wonwoo?”

He stares down at him hard. “Don’t talk about her like she’s just some thing you can play with.”

“Oh? No wonder those new vids of yours have been extra livelier. Your new boytoy is a big old softie, huh?” Another mirthless laugh echoes in the empty streets, and Wonwoo feels his own body heat up with rage amidst the cold rain. “I never would’ve imagined it was Wonwoo, of all people, though. That really is a magic pussy you’ve got there, doll. I wouldn’t be surprised if I found out you’re fucking his twelve other friends, too. Fucking whore—”

Before Johnny could get another word out, Wonwoo’s fist had already collided with the side of his face—knocking the older man to the ground with a disgruntled sound. He can vaguely hear you calling his name in shock, pulling him back with your little hands as Wonwoo stares down at a person he used to look up to.

“Call her that one more fucking time,” he rasps—eyes alight with anger, “and I’ll make sure it’s not just a busted eye you’re leaving with tonight.”

“Wonwoo,” you plead, tugging on his arm. “Please. He’s not worth it. Let’s just go.” 

Johnny still has it in him to bark out another laugh, spitting out some blood from his mouth and onto the pavement. “Running away again, princess? That’s what you’ve always been good at anyway.”

When Wonwoo moves to lunge at him again, you lace your fingers with his. For some reason, it makes him falter. Wonwoo stares at where your hands are adjoined, then looks into your eyes—glistening with tears as you beg him to stop.

Sending Johnny one last threatening glare, Wonwoo tightens his grip on your delicate fingers before leading you back to his car.

Wonwoo doesn’t return to the party.

Instead, he shoots Mingyu a quick ‘something came up’ text, and that he won’t be able to play designated driver for the night. His best friend responds in kind, saying he should have fun with his girlfriend and just take a cab home. On normal days, he would’ve given Mingyu another unsolicited threat, but tonight, he’s focused on something else.

You’ve been quiet the entire time Wonwoo has been driving, hands placed on top of your lap as you gazed at the lights flashing by in a blur of colors and raindrops pouring down the window. He doesn’t have a particular destination in mind, but he figures that it’ll do you some good to have some time to mull over everything that happened. 

But when the silence gets too overbearing even for him, Wonwoo asks:

“What do you usually do when you’re upset?”

You turn your head slowly, red eyes shining even in the dark. Wiping the tears away, you say, “Buy a tub of ice cream and stargaze at the rooftop of my apartment building. That’s kinda impossible right now, though, since…”

Yeah. It was still raining. Fuck.

“Well,” Wonwoo starts, “we can still get some ice cream if you’re up for it. I know a supermarket that’s open twenty four-seven.” 

You don’t reply, simply letting your gaze drift back to the window, and Wonwoo takes that as an affirmative. 

The two of you sit in the silence so deafening, it unsettles even Wonwoo the silence connoisseur himself. He doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do in this kind of situation. Should he offer you some verbal comfort? Should he promise to deal with Johnny if he comes after you again?

In the end, Wonwoo chooses to preserve the quiet—thinking it’s what you need most right now.

He pulls into the supermarket’s parking lot in ten minutes. He’s about to tell you that he won’t take long—glancing around at the backseat to check if Mingyu left his umbrella there. But before he can even get a word out, you’ve already leaned across the center console, grabbing Wonwoo’s face with both hands before smashing your lips together. 

Wonwoo grunts, grabbing your shoulders as he gently pries you off him. “Hey—”

You don’t listen. Instead, you climb on top of his lap despite the limited space. He knows that the steering wheel digging into your back can’t be comfortable at all, so despite himself, Wonwoo pushes the driver’s seat all the way back. But then you choose to do something he doesn’t expect at all.

With the newfound legroom, you sink to the floor—puffy eyes looking up at him as you work on the buckle of his belt. Wonwoo gives you a stare that’s two parts disapproving and one part curious. In the end, he does nothing about it when you undo his jeans and take his cock in the warmth of your hand.

When it comes to you, it doesn’t take a lot to get him hard. The need to please shines in your eyes as you give him possibly one of the best handjobs in his life. You’re not even uttering a single sound, but your titillating gaze sends all the blood in his system straight to his dick.

Your mouth is on him the next thing he knows—giving his fat head some experimental kitten licks that make him want to shove your head down to the base of his cock. But he won’t. Wonwoo isn’t Johnny. He wouldn’t dare to be rough with you after what just happened, despite your apparent eagerness to give him head right here, of all places. 

The mere reminder of that asshole has him buzzing with rage again, but whatever frustration is left over gets quickly replaced with toe-curling pleasure when you take his heavy length in the heat of your mouth. Your tongue lathers the underside of his shaft as every inch bypasses your plump lips. What your mouth can’t reach, you compensate with your fingers—fondling both his balls and the base of his cock with tender yet salacious touches.

He has to tell you to knock it off. This probably isn’t how you’re supposed to deal with…whatever shit you have going on with Johnny. But your mouth feels like fucking heaven, and Wonwoo isn’t a good enough person to deny himself the pleasure.

The rain continues to pour outside, but the sound of it is eclipsed by the wet noise of you bobbing up and down his engorged cock. As Wonwoo’s orgasm slowly builds itself from the ground up, his large hand gathers your hair in a single clump—tugging hard enough to have you moaning around his length.

“Good, good girl,” he rasps before thrusting his hips into your mouth. 

 When he finally comes, you swallow every drop he pours down your throat. Even when your eyes start to sting with tears, you take it all while Wonwoo holds your head in place. 

As his high starts to ebb away, Wonwoo realizes this is probably the most breathless he’s been rendered since he started fucking around with you. He could probably blame that on the shitty car ventilation, but there’s just something so fucking enticing about seeing you wedged beneath him on the floor—face streaked with tears with remnants of his release still sticking on your lips.

Wordlessly, you peel yourself away as you scramble back to the passenger seat, making a nonchalant comment about how much you’ve imagined sucking him off in his car, but Wonwoo doesn’t quite process it all.

When he notices that the glass of his car windows have all but fogged up, he leans forward—one hand raised as he starts drawing shapes into the moisture. You stare at him with a bewildered look, wondering what on earth he was up to. But the moment you realize what he’s drawing, your expression twists from confusion to disbelief.

Stars. Wonwoo was drawing stars on his fucking windshield with his entire dick still out and everything. He doesn’t even look fazed while he’s doing it.

“You can’t be serious,” you say.

He shrugs and grabs some tissues from the glove compartment to clean up before putting himself away—handing it to you right after. 

He’s so fucking thoughtful; it still gives you whiplash.

“You said you wanted to see the stars, right?” Wonwoo shrugs. “This is the best I can give you right now, so.”

You stare at him for a couple of seconds longer—like you can’t believe a man like Jeon Wonwoo really exists on this earth. Then, you laugh. It’s one of those obnoxious ones that typically have Wonwoo rolling his eyes at you, but it sounds like music to his ears after seeing you cry your eyes out .

Wonwoo does manage to get enough ice cream for the two of you to feast on back in your apartment as you both watch this food show that Mingyu keeps recommending to him. The tricky part is trying to get your hands off him the entire time. 

For someone who went through something pretty traumatic earlier in the evening, you’re fucking insatiable. But Wonwoo’s resolve can no longer be shaken, and the dirtiest thing that you end up doing in your bedroom is giving him a kiss on the cheek before bidding him good night.

It’s only when you’re dozing softly against his chest—having trusted him enough to fall asleep in his company—that Wonwoo realizes something that might change the trajectory of your set-up for good.

He’s in love. 

The next morning, Mingyu greets Wonwoo at the apartment like a mother would her troublemaking son who got caught sneaking home in the middle of the night.

“It’s Koyahngi, isn’t it?” he says point-blank. 

Wonwoo doesn’t exactly have the energy to play some mental gymnastics with Mingyu right now. The moment it dawned on him how he actually felt about you, he couldn’t get a wink of sleep. Thoughts about what he should do have kept him up all night. Should he come clean about it? Should he just leave it be?

But when he remembers what you said about him during that one visit of his…

I never have to worry about you looking for anything more than this since you’re a pretty laid back guy. Def not the commitment type.

That pretty much leaves him with one option, which is the one he’s been meaning to take all along. The idea of having to confess his love for you like some sort of prepubescent high schooler honestly makes him want to vomit. But at the same time, resorting to…concealing his feelings from plain sight doesn’t sit well with him either.

But no matter what he feels about either option, Wonwoo knows that keeping his mouth shut about it is the best option. Especially when you’re still emotionally high-strung from that encounter with Johnny. 

“So what if it is?” Wonwoo grumbles, plopping himself onto the couch right next to Mingyu.

“For what it’s worth, I’ve always thought the two of you were a good match,” his roommate offers, and Wonwoo appreciates his pep-talk. Really, he does. But he’s pep-talking him for the wrong fucking outcome. “You should totally go for it if you haven’t already.”

You don’t do relationships, and neither does Wonwoo. He knows if he uses this line of reasoning as a rebuttal to Mingyu’s words, his best friend will stubbornly insist that he get the girl anyways. He’s always been the one-track-mind type that gives it his all once he’s finally set on something. 

But Wonwoo is nothing like his enthusiastic roommate. He’s cold, and sharp-tongued, and everything you probably wouldn’t want in a boyfriend. All he’s good for is a quick fuck every now and again, and he’s not about to start deluding himself that he can be anything more to you.

(Yet part of him still hopes anyway.) 

🐈‍: are u free today

🐈‍⬛: Be there in thirty

🐈‍: whoa i haven’t even told you what i had planned

🐈‍: what if i actually wanted to take you on a date to the park huh

🐈‍⬛: Did you?

🐈‍: no, my new raiden shogun cosplay set just arrived

🐈‍: and we kinda have this unspoken tradition 

🐈‍: if you know what i mean

🐈‍⬛: You want me to fuck you in it?

🐈‍: always <3

There’s something off when Wonwoo shows up at your doorstep.

He knows you easily pick up on it from the way your eyes narrow slightly when you scrutinize him. From what he can tell, he’s acting as aloof as he always does, yet you still ask him, “You okay?” as if he’s doing something different.

“Yeah,” he mumbles before quietly closing the door behind him.

As you lead him to your room, you tell him that you haven’t put on your cosplay yet because the stockings that came with your order were itchy as fuck, and how you’re thinking of having them replaced one of these days. Wonwoo hums in reply, eyes trained on the takeout packaging that litters your kitchen counter. He has half the mind to tell you to start eating healthily, but reminds himself that’s the sort of thing boyfriends do—not fuck buddies.

Your dainty lo-fi playlist is streaming in your room like always, and when you see the assorted fabrics of your cosplay crumpled on your desk, you heave a tired sigh.

“I’m too lazy to put it on now,” you whine. “Can you just fuck me normally?”

He doesn’t give you a verbal response. Instead, Wonwoo pulls you by the hip, pressing you impossibly close to him as he rests his forehead on top of yours. You startle a little at his abruptness, but your body language betrays no sign of resistance. If anything, you lean more into his touch as the seconds tick past.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” you whisper like you’re afraid of shattering something delicate. “You seem out of it.”

“I’m fine,” he insists, and before you can say anything else in response, he slots your mouths together in a slow, sensual kiss. 

Wonwoo likes to get things done hard and fast. He’s a man who sticks to his schedules for the day if he can help it, so he typically treats these sessions with you as timed encounters. More often than not, he’ll be out of your door in two hours or less so he can dedicate his time to working out or planning for new content.

Now, it’s a little different. He takes his sweet time with you—mouths moving in voluptuous unison as if he’s finally dedicating each second to truly memorize the curve of your lips against his. You moan into the kiss, fingers threading through his dark hair before he pulls away from you with a breathless sigh. 

Wonwoo stares at you like you’re the center of the universe. He can only hope you see the same thing when you stare back.

You know when Wonwoo takes his glasses off, he means business. One moment he’s placing them on top of your nightstand, and the next, you’re suddenly pinned beneath him on your bed—getting your lips devoured by the insatiable man on top of you. 

There’s something so innately alluring to his kisses that you haven’t felt during the last time you fucked Wonwoo in this same room. Those were less kisses and more of a clash of teeth and tongue. Now, he stokes a kind of desire that almost scares you to have. You’re afraid if you indulge yourself too much in this version of him, you’ll get addicted. 

The two of you are supposed to be filming today. Yet you seem to have forgotten all about your plans as you lose yourselves in the heat of each other’s bodies. But despite the mellow pace that Wonwoo has established, the desperation still lingers in his touch. 

He flips the both of you over so that you’re sitting right on top of him, gasping out loud as you steady yourself across his hips. Wonwoo smiles lazily, drawing circles along the curve of your thigh before teasing the waistband of your shorts with a single finger. You whimper as you grind down against his hardening length, still confused about how soft he’s being with you today, but no complaints are going to be filed.

“You want my cock that badly?” he asks, and you nod a bit too enthusiastically. “Then work for it.”

You bite your lip, not bothering to remove either of your clothes when you haul out Wonwoo’s length from the fabric of his sweats. Just a few pumps from your small fingers has him hot and heavy in your hand—making your mouth water with anticipation. You don’t think you’ll ever get tired of taking him inside your tight little pussy.

Nudging the hem of both your shorts and panties to the side, you quietly sink down on his engorged cock with a strained whimper. The lack of prep definitely isn’t doing you any favors, but the raw stretch of him so deep inside your walls sends a rush of pleasure straight to your skull. In no time, you’re bouncing on top of his lap like a bitch in heat—mind hazy with the feeling of Wonwoo hitting you even deeper than usual. 

You sort of expected him to amp up the dirty talk. You don’t always get to ride him like this, yet Wonwoo stays perfectly quiet as he watches you thrash and moan above him. His hands rest comfortably at the curve of your waist, guiding your movements, all while offering up a few thrusts of his own.

It feels so fucking good whenever he hits that perfect spot inside you, but the pleasure pulls the wool over your eyes because you’re completely oblivious to the way Wonwoo is looking at you right now.

He was a fool to think that if he just had his way with you like he usually does, those delusions of his would go away naturally. That it would serve as an anchor to the reality of your relationship with him. But when Wonwoo has you chasing your high right before him—so devastatingly beautiful in the lowlights of your bedroom—he realizes he’s fucked.

All this does is make him fall even deeper in love with you. 

“S-So close,” you whimper, grinding down on his cock with each downward thrust. “Wonwoo, please, please. Fuck—!” 

He quickly shoots up from his initial position, lying down, fingers tangled in your hair as he forces your head close to meld your lips together once again. Wonwoo fucks up into you relentlessly, his breathing erratic against your mouth, all while he tries his best to keep all of his secrets from coming out of his own lips. 

You’re the most infuriating person he knows, but he can’t help but look after you anyways. He claims to hate you, but the way he’s rolling his hips into yours would tell a different story. You drive him insane each waking day, yet you have no clue of the extent of it.

He would never admit it—not in a million, billion years—but you’re Wonwoo’s favorite poison, and he’d rather watch himself burn from the inside out than find an antidote. 

He hates having to hide you away from the world like this. Hates treating you like some sort of dirty little secret. He’s allowed to share you with the world through anonymous pornography, but not as a bonafide lover, and it drives him up a fucking wall every time he thinks about it. 

But the thing about Wonwoo and sex is that once he finally gets to fuck the frustration out of his system, his clarity of mind is a bit too quick to settle. As he helps clean you up in the bathroom, he tells himself that it’s simply impossible for someone like you to want anything more with someone like him. After all, you said it yourself.

You don’t do relationships. 

Who the hell is Wonwoo to change your mind about that anyway?

“Wonwoo?”

He looks up at you just when he just finished wiping a cool, wet towel across your leg. “What?”

Your eyes shy away from his. “Um, you might call me a sap or something, but I…kinda liked it.”

“Liked what?”

“That,” you say while making some vague hand gestures at him. “When you were all gentle with me and stuff. I wouldn’t mind having soft Wonwoo again next time.”

Next time.

The words echo in Wonwoo’s mind far more than what he expected, and he finds himself frowning at the notion. Can he still keep up this charade, now that he’s aware of his feelings for you? How long can he continue the act until he inevitably slips up, and you find out?

How long does he have left before you drop him because he’s starting to want more from you?

“Wonwoo, where are you…?”

He doesn’t hear the rest of what you have to say because he’s already padding out of the bathroom—heart beating a little too loudly in his chest. Wonwoo fishes his glasses from the nightstand and the keys to his car. He’s more than intent on getting out of here as soon as possible, but it seems you have other plans.

“Hey,” you call out before tugging at his arm. Wonwoo forces himself not to meet your eyes, but he feels the intensity of your stare regardless. “You’re acting really fucking weird today. Is there something wrong? Did I do something you didn’t like?”

“No,” he mumbles, wanting to add, I’m the one who’s done something you won’t like, but opting to keep his silence instead. 

“Then…why are you acting like this?” 

The pleading look in your eyes almost makes him cave in and pour out everything that’s been flooding his heart for the past few days. It’s so easy to just rip the band-aid off and be honest. To risk everything for the abysmal chance of you reciprocating his feelings.

But Wonwoo knows that life isn’t a fucking gacha game, and he’s not about to throw away what he has with you now, especially when he knows what he wants doesn’t coincide with what you want. 

“Just having a shitty day,” he reasons, and the lie tastes like acid on his tongue. “I’ll text you later. Bye.”

Before Wonwoo steps out of your door, he makes another mistake of looking back. Now, he isn’t sure if he’ll ever get the image of you on the verge of tears as you stood all alone in your bedroom for reasons he’ll never know

Wonwoo runs into Saerom in the supermarket one fateful afternoon.

Mingyu is usually the one who does the grocery runs for both of them—being the person who knows which brands are best for both food and apartment maintenance and all. But his best friend happened to land himself a modeling gig recently, and they rescheduled the shoot today on short notice. Wonwoo insisted that they could live another day without eating rice, but Mingyu was having none of it, and gave his roommate a full list of groceries he expects him to buy no later than today.

So here he is in the canned goods aisle, expression mirroring Saerom’s when she recognizes him as well. It’s not often that Wonwoo bumps into a familiar face in this part of town, so he’s rightfully surprised.

When she asks him if he’s free to have lunch with her at a nearby bistro, he sees no reason to decline. Saerom has always been his good friend, and it’s only natural for him to want to catch up. That, and he’s curious about what she’s doing here in the first place.

“I just moved into the neighborhood actually,” she explains once the waiter is done taking their orders. “Anyway, how are you? I haven’t spoken to you since that time I hijacked your stream.”

Wonwoo clearly remembers the day she asked him to look out for you all those months ago. Saerom is quite literally an angel, extending her concern even to the people who probably don’t need nor deserve it. He gulps down his water thickly, wondering if he should tell her the truth. 

But with how his brain seems to be all over the place these days, he ends up coming clean about it anyway.

When the food arrives, Wonwoo tells Saerom about the truth behind the porn videos implicating you in the past—how you’re actually the one being filmed in all of them. He also tells her about how Wonwoo takes part in the creation process of said videos (deciding to leave Johnny out of the story because that’s going to be another can of worms to deal with). Then, he ends the tall tale with the begrudging fact that he may or may not have caught feelings for someone he isn’t supposed to.

Saerom listens intently to each word—chewing on her salad with a contemplative look. She never betrays any sort of expression that would suggest her true opinions on the matter, which makes Wonwoo all too thankful that she’s the one he entrusted this with.

“I see,” she sighs once she’s finished the rest of her food. “I knew something was a bit off about her situation, but I’m glad that she’s safe, at least. Although about that budding romance of yours… Don’t you think it’ll be easier if you just discussed it with her directly? An outsider like me can only offer you so much advice, Wonwoo.”

He sighs, stabbing his food with his fork. “I know, but…what if she doesn’t want anything to do with me when she finds out how I really feel?”

Saerom lets out a wistful sigh—staring directly at Wonwoo like she intends for him to remember her next words for a long time.

“Then that’s your sign to find someone else who can accept the love you’re more than willing to give. If she turns you down, that’s more of her loss than yours, you know.”

Wonwoo wants to tell her she’s giving him too much credit. It almost sounds like Saerom is insisting that he’d actually make a good boyfriend. He half-wonders if he should ask her if she accidentally mistook him for Mingyu, but then Saerom’s phone rings in the middle of their conversation. 

It’s a short call, and Wonwoo doesn’t bother listening in to give her some privacy. When it ends, though, she bows her head in apology, letting him know that her boyfriend’s waiting for her at the parking lot.

“It’s nice meeting you again, Wonwoo.” She smiles before pulling him into a hug. “I hope your girl problems are already sorted out the next time I see you.”

Wonwoo lets out an uneasy laugh as he returns her embrace. 

He really hopes so, too. 

One month.

It takes Wonwoo one entire month to reach out again, right after he left you without a word in your apartment last time. Part of him feels like he should be guilty for ghosting you so suddenly like that, but he swears he didn’t ghost you. 

He’s just…giving both of you some time and space away from each other. God knows his judgment gets clouded whenever he’s near you. 

Still, he doesn’t really expect you to forgive him for it right away. Much like Mingyu, you’re the sulky type. But while he usually deals with Mingyu’s sulking by leaving him alone for a few hours, that solution is counterproductive when it comes to you because…he’s already left you alone for a month. Wonwoo has a feeling that if he prolongs it any further, you might not talk to him ever again.

You were already wrapping up this evening’s stream when he left his own apartment, and he figures you’re getting ready for bed when he gets to yours.

His knuckles rap against the door once, twice, and he waits. 

Not that Wonwoo is counting, but it takes you five minutes to answer the door—already in your comfortable pajamas and your kitten skincare headband resting on top of your head. It seems that you weren’t expecting any late-night visitors when your eyes nearly bug out at the sight of him. 

“Won—” You shake your head as if you can’t even bear to say his name. “What are you doing here?”

He hesitates.

Wonwoo doesn’t have an answer for you. He gave you space for one month, and he still doesn’t know what to say when he finally deigned to show you his face. 

Your posture is rightfully apprehensive. Wonwoo can almost imagine how you’ve branded him as a raging ghoster in your head for the past few weeks. For a moment, he fears that you’ll throw him out of your apartment before he can even set foot in it, but you simply wait for him to respond—affording him some patience he definitely doesn’t deserve.

“I…” Wonwoo starts but his voice falters, forcing him to clear his throat awkwardly. “You’re getting better at using Chamber.”

You scowl at him, and if Mingyu was here, Wonwoo thinks he would’ve face-palmed because of how pathetic he’s being right now. 

Seriously? Bringing up the latest Valorant agent she’s playing when you’re supposed to say you’re in love with her? Wonwoo can practically hear his roommate in his head, along with an added, You’re so fucking mid, hyung. 

“Okay,” you say, still visibly wary of his presence. “Anything else? I’d rather get everything out of the way so you can continue ghosting me in peace.” 

Fuck. He knew it.

“I’m—” 

Sorry. I didn’t mean it. I was too scared of how I felt about you to deal with it like a normal person.

“—starting to think that you’re fine without me after all.”

At this point, Mingyu would’ve pummeled him to the ground.

Jeon Wonwoo, you have the emotional intelligence of a rock, imagination-Mingyu points out, and he couldn’t agree more.

“Well, thanks for pointing out the obvious. I am fine without you, asshole,” you bite back snarkily, making the motions to shut the door in his face, but Wonwoo wedges his foot in between. 

“Wait—fuck. I’m sorry,” he insists, swallowing thickly. “Can I come in? Please?”

The desperation in his tone makes you arch an eyebrow. Wonwoo never says please. It’s almost always the other way around, whether in a sexual context or not. So even if you know you should just leave him there like how he left you a month ago, you breathe out a sigh in defeat before opening the door wider for him.

“Fine.”

You’ve never sat at your dining table with Wonwoo. You never had to. Whenever he comes over, it’s either to have sex or let you teach him about a game he can’t be assed to play on his own. He doesn’t stay long enough to warrant asking him if he wants some takeout or leftovers from the fridge, so seeing him nursing a glass of water across from you still feels surreal. 

“So are you going to explain why you suddenly just ditched me, or are we going to stew in the silence all night?” you ask. 

Wonwoo’s gaze flickers over to you irritably, and you hate to admit that the sight of that expression makes a pang of…something ripple in your chest. It’s been so long since you’ve seen him, much less spoken to him, so even if you should be fucking mad, you can’t help but miss him. 

God fucking damn it.

He doesn’t answer right away. Like he’s carefully choosing which words he’ll allow you to hear and which would be better off unsaid. But if there’s something you’ve come to know about Wonwoo after all these months, it’s that he doesn’t have good intuition when it comes to other people’s emotions. 

Even if it seems like he’s being particularly careful about his words, that doesn’t guarantee that what’s going to come out of his mouth won’t be stupid.  

“I just had to clear my head for a while,” he says, providing no context whatsoever, and that makes you frown even more. 

“Clear your head?” you echo as you cross your legs. “From what?”

Wonwoo’s usually aloof look shifts for a moment. An unreadable expression flits across his face, but it’s gone before you can even make sense of it.

“It’s nothing you should worry about.”

“Nothing I should… Wonwoo, you were already acting strange the last time you were here. Then you went ahead and ignored me for an entire month!” You slam your hands on the table, the Wonwoo’s glass rattling in the process.

“How am I not supposed to worry when all this time, you made me think I was the reason you suddenly just flaked on me like that?”

He narrows his eyes at you, as if he doesn’t quite get why you’re pissed. “Why does it even matter? I’m just your fuck buddy, right? Why should you care if I just come and go whenever I feel like it?”

The apathetic tone that accompanies his words lances straight through your chest. Were you an idiot for believing that the look he wore earlier in front of your apartment was genuine? That he was actually apologetic for leaving you alone with your thoughts as you wondered what you could’ve possibly done to drive him away without a word?

Your fists shake from where you’re pressing them into the polished wood of your dining table. Wonwoo’s indifferent stare doesn’t let up, and as the white noise rings in your ears, it makes you wonder…

“Why’d I have to fall in love with someone like you?”

The words come out so softly, so quietly that you doubt Wonwoo would’ve heard you. But as your vision gets blurry with tears, you don’t see how  surprise begins to eclipse his aloofness.

Wonwoo felt his heart drop to the pit of his stomach when his ears caught what you just said. He couldn’t have heard wrong. It was too quiet in your apartment to mistake what you said for anything else.

You’re…in love with him?

“You know what?” You breathe in deeply, eyes darting up to the ceiling as you wipe off the evidence of your vulnerability. “Just…leave, Wonwoo. I can’t talk to you right now. Please.”

“Say it again.”

When your gaze drifts back to him, it’s accompanied with an expression twisted into disbelief.

“What?”

Before you can even think about what he could even mean by that, Wonwoo gets up from his seat, striding over to your side of the table. You flash him another apprehensive stare, but all of a sudden, he cups your face in both of his hands—delicately, like he’s afraid of breaking something precious.

“Tell me you’re in love with me.”

You immediately bristle at his request. “Are you fucking insane? I know you’re a sadist but—”

Wonwoo presses forward without warning—capturing your lips in an unsolicited kiss that catches you off guard but angers you at the same time. No matter how badly you missed having him pressed up against you in more ways than one, you’re not going to let him trample on your feelings again. 

“I hate you,” you rasp, salty tears breaking their tension across your lashes as they slide down your cheeks in glistening streaks. “I fucking hate you, Jeon Wonwoo.”

Your words carry little weight to them, and Wonwoo is completely aware of this. Almost like he’s trying to placate you, he wipes your tears away with the pads of his thumbs—that hard-eyed gaze weathering into something softer, more sincere with each passing second. 

You abhor how handsome he looks like this.

“Is that your way of telling someone you love them?” he chuckles breathlessly, lips rising to the crown of your head as he presses a soft kiss on top. “If that’s the case, then…”

“I fucking hate you, too.”

Wonwoo isn’t sure how long the two of you have been going at it, but by your fourth orgasm, your newfound lover is yet to be sated.

“Again,” he growls, tugging your limp body closer to his. “Say it again.”

One of the things Wonwoo particularly likes about exploring all sorts of sexual escapades with you is that you teach him things about himself that he never even knew about. 

First was that stupid daddy kink, and now…

“I love you,” you whimper, mindlessly grinding against his still hard cock despite being worn and spent. “I love you, Wonwoo.”

Despite the fact that your honesty drives him to near-insanity, Wonwoo can’t help the relieved sigh that fills his veins every time you utter the words. At first, you stubbornly kept up the act of hating him as he railed you into the mattress, but with every mind-numbing orgasm, your hate slowly bled into love, and Wonwoo finds it fucking cathartic. 

You beat him to what he came over to tell you himself. It was a little embarrassing on his part, he has to admit, but there’s some sort of relief that comes with knowing the same person he’s been vying for also feels the same way.

He’ll tell you the words properly someday.

Maybe not today or tomorrow, but Wonwoo promises that he’ll let you hear how much he adores you soon enough.

For now, he’ll give you one last release.

He’s certain that he can still go one more round, but he can’t really say the same for you. If Wonwoo makes you cream on his cock one more time, he’s afraid you’ll actually pass out from exhaustion. 

So instead, he lays you down on your plush pillows—crawling lower down your body until he finds himself between your legs. He chuckles when you crane your neck weakly to see what he’s trying to do, but Wonwoo is already hooking your thighs over his shoulders before you can say a word.

Your body twitches from oversensitivity as his tongue laves at your ruined cunt—not caring that his own spend has mixed with yours from where the creamy liquid seeps from your hole. Wonwoo groans into your cunt when your thighs squeeze around his head as if meaning to suffocate him with your pussy.

Honestly? If that’s the way he’s gonna go, he’ll accept it with open arms.

“Daddy,” you mewl, fingers tangling in his tousled hair. “I c-can’t anymore…”

Wonwoo suckles at your clit in response, earning himself a high-pitched whine as you roll your hips into his face. For someone who claims she can’t come anymore, you’re awfully eager for him to pinpoint your orgasm again.

“You can, baby,” he insists, peppering your inner thighs with kisses. “You can ‘cause you’re my good girl, aren’t you?” 

He feels your inner muscles clenching at his words, and Wonwoo makes a mental note to praise you more often. You might just like that more than his run-of-the-mill dirty talk after all.

“‘m your good girl,” you babble. “Always daddy’s good girl.”

Fuck. You’re going to be the death of him.

When you’ve recovered from the crest of your final orgasm, Wonwoo carries you to the bathroom and carries you into a bath he’d drawn himself. You complain about how he didn’t set the temperature in the tub right, and Wonwoo promises to do better next time. 

As the two of you soak in the semi-warm water, Wonwoo rests his head against the tiled wall—the fatigue starting to seep into his bones. He doesn’t let himself complain, though, because if he’s feeling spent, he can only imagine how sore you must be feeling. He wonders if he should order some food for the both of you or just let you sleep right away.

“Wonwoo?”

He raises an eyebrow at your meek voice calling out to him. “Yeah?”

You shift a little on his lap, turning around as droopy eyes bore into his. Wonwoo is about to call you out for being weird, but the words evaporate on his tongue when you lean forward to peck his lips. 

“Can I borrow your phone?”

He tilts his head to the side, wondering why you’re asking for his phone. You couldn’t possibly be asking him to film some content here in the tub…right?

Wonwoo watches in complete silence as you open his Twitter app—further feeding into his curiosity. But he doesn’t comment on whatever it is you’re about to do, patiently watching as you maneuver around the accounts logged onto his phone. 

However, when you pull up on the Settings tab of that porn account the two of you have been running for months, scrolling all the way down—

“What are you doing?” he asks as your finger hovers over the ‘Deactivate account’ button.

You glance at him, confused. “I’m getting rid of this account. What else does it look like?”

“Why?”

“What do you mean why? I can’t share my sex tapes with the rest of the world now that I have a boyfriend.”

The bathroom falls silent for about three heartbeats before Wonwoo wraps his arms around you in a tight embrace. You yelp in surprise, struggling against his iron-tight grip in a way that has water splashing all around you. Wonwoo couldn’t care less, though.

“I love you,” he murmurs into the naked skin of your shoulder. 

You don’t respond for a while, like you’re surprised by his easy admission. But the tension in Wonwoo’s spine unravels when you rest your head across his shoulder, chuckling as you caress his face tenderly.

“Don’t you dare think I’ll let you off the hook though,” you chide. “You’ve got several months of dates to make up for. Just because you took the express lane into being my boyfriend, doesn’t mean you get to skip out on the effort that normally comes with it.”

Wonwoo shakes his head, turning your face so his eyes can meet yours. 

He can’t believe he was stupid enough to run away from his own feelings for an entire month. If only he’d been more honest with both you and himself the last time he was here, he could’ve spent all the weeks after with you cradled in his embrace.

But then again, it’s the choices you both made so far that led you to where you are now.

And for now, he’s perfectly content with that.

“Challenge accepted.”

part one - part two - part three - part four

q: is there going to be a third part? a: yes! however, part 3 is literally just in its early stages of creation. i don't even have a serious doc for it, just a few vague plot bunnies gathering dust in my head SJDFHDFG BUT since i'm feeling generous, attached below is a little sneak peek of what you can expect!

This is, by far, the worst day of Mingyu’s life. Okay, maybe he’s exaggerating, but he likes to think that he’s a man of routine. If he doesn’t get to do his morning rituals right before his streams, it feels like the world has been tilted a few degrees off its proper axis. And that’s exactly what’s happening now, when Mingyu realizes that his favorite Twitter porn account is nowhere to be found.  How the hell is he supposed to get his daily dose of relief now?

aaaaaand that's all i have for now! thank you so much for waiting patiently for this installment! it took me an entire month since i posted the teaser, but here it is hehe :3c i hope you all liked it! do stay tuned for that third part, whenever the hell i can get around to writing it T T

this is part of the game over series!

[jnkgrnde]

— dating hc’s, clarisse la rue, pjo

summary — dating hc’s w pookie

pairings — clarisse la rue x black!fem!reader (daughter of apollo)

authors note — some of this is inspired by a clarisse fanfic i read the other day w a child of apollo reader ☝🏾

⭑ alr first things first y’all r the definition of black cat gf + golden retriever gf WALK W ME!

⭑ like when u first got to camp clarisse was v.. she thought u were different but in a good way.

⭑ she expected u to act like how an apollo kid would except u were like 5x sunshinier and smilier.

⭑ when u decided to hang out w her more often after u arrived people were starting to question things

⭑ like how clarisse wasn’t throwing you in the lake

⭑ the only reason she hadn’t done that yet was because she was starting to like having you around, even if she didn’t act like it

⭑ you’d talk to her about your day, spar w her, etc etc

⭑ that was up until the night you realized you liked her more than friends

⭑ you were pacing around your cabin, biting your nails anxiously; when you got to camp, you decided to read about your father, and that included all of his tragedies family wise and love wise.

⭑ you didn’t want to continue that tradition, so you came down to the decision of avoiding clarisse entirely.

⭑ it started becoming noticeable after about two or three days.

⭑ clarisse was more irritable, and people noticed you weren’t around her as much. a lot of the time you’d write in your journal about it.

⭑ whenever you were at the archery range, you’d up and leave as soon as you saw clarisse.

⭑ she wasn’t happy about this

⭑ this had been going on for what felt like forever; clarisse trying to subtly look for you, and whenever she found you you always managed to leave as soon as she was approaching.

⭑ she would’ve never admitted this to anybody, but she missed you. how you would talk non stop about your day and always ask how hers was going. she missed the way you would get shy whenever she called you sunshine because of your descent.

⭑ she ended up having enough when she called out for you at the archery range and you blatantly ignored her, which is how you two got where you are right now

“y/n!”

you cursed to yourself as you started walking the opposite direction, not even bothering to put your bow down.

she didn’t let you go this time, running up to you to turn you around. you had a slight look of anger and fear on your face, and it hurt clarisse to see you look at her like everyone else does.

“why are you avoiding me?” you avoided her eyes. you weren’t really prepared for what would’ve happened when or if she decided to approach you. “is there something you wanted to tell me? any explanation? at all?” she persisted. “i just- it’s hard to talk about, clarisse.” clarisse frowned. you almost never used her full name. “it’s just me, sunshine. just you and me.”

you breathed deep to calm your aching heart. “i like you.”

clarisse stood dumbfounded. “what?” “i have a crush on you, and i was scared to tell you because of my dad and his history with love. i didn’t want to possibly get you killed all because i loved you.” clarisse looked at you for a moment then put her lips with yours.

her hand found your waist as you gripped her forearm. why and since when was she a good kisser? it was getting heated so you pulled away. “why did you do that?” you asked her breathlessly. “we have more of a chance of dying solely because we’re demigods. if i have to die early, i’d rather die knowing me and you were together through everything.” you nodded. “okay.” you whispered out.

“okay?” she repeated. she looked at you with so much love held in her eyes. “okay.” you started grinning.

⭑ let me wrap this up before it gets too long lmao

⭑ to reiterate what i said earlier, yall are the definition of black cat gf + golden retriever gf

⭑ whether its in capture the flag or just strolling around the campgrounds, clarisse is very protective of you

⭑ i’d like to believe she would steal some of ur lotion n stuff cs u got GOOD stuff don’t ask me how i know

⭑ you’d also help eachother out w ur hair like braiding them for games etc etc

⭑ she loved ur voice btw. like u had a naturally pretty voice bc of ur dad, so she’d love to hear u talk. bonus points if ur one of those ppl who sing peoples names instead of js saying them normally

⭑ it took her a minute to get used to it, but atp she does not care about pda; she’s showing u off whether u like it or not

⭑ okay thats it clarisse is my girlfriend #confirmed

[cosmal]

ooooh poly!marauders who are really in tune with their s/o's emotions, even when she tries to hide them? like maybe they're out for a meal or at a party and she gets overwhelmed and they just realise straight away and bring her out of the setting? i love them soooo much

in the car

summary the boys take you home when you get overwhelmed at a party.

content poly!marauders x fem!reader

note omg first poly!m blurb. sorry it kinda sucks :[

You sit on a retaining wall in Marlene's backyard and try to focus on her pretty flowers instead of feeling so anxious. You haven't spoken to anyone in twenty minutes, not even the boys, and you've really tried your best not to put such a damper on the night.

They're having a lot of fun, you know they've had a tiring week and everyone hasn't been together in a long time so you won't ruin anything for them.

You pick at your nails and chew on the ice in your drink to keep your mind distracted. You thought you could handle it tonight, you hoped you wouldn't get as overwhelmed as you were expecting. You'd felt anxious before you even left, you thought seeing your friends might've helped.

You're too busy staring a hole through your glass to notice James sitting next to you. You startle when he speaks and bite your lip at your error.

"Hey, sweetheart," he says softly and ignores your jump. You feel a little pathetic.

"James," you sigh. You can't look him in the eye.

"Ready to go?" he clasps and hand to your shoulder and does that stupid, toothy grin he knows you love.

"What? We just got here." It feels like it's been hours. It's been one at most.

"Yeah, I know." He stands back up and hovers over you. It's almost irritating how pretty he looks. He doesn't make any of this any easier. You feel awful for ruining their night. "You look so sad, honey. We thought we'd go home."

"I can Uber if you want." You regret it before you even say it.

"What? No, don't be so silly." Yeah. Expected.

"I don't wanna leave just cause of me. I'm fine, don't worry."

James doesn't let you mope any longer. "No, c'mon, up."

"James..."

"It's okay," he takes your hand to encourage you, smiling, "really. I wanna leave anyway." Then much quieter, "Frank's tryna get me drunk."

You let him lift you up and fall into his side where you feel you belong. You feel half-relieved already, despite feeling selfish. "Where're the others?"

"Sirius went to get the car,'' he grabs your hand and leads you through the side gate. "I think Remus went with him."

You're not sure why you feel so blindsided by this all. Most of the time they're so intuned with you, they know when you're overwhelmed or just having a bad time. You're the same with them. You rub Remus's shoulders before without him telling you they're sore, you call James when you know he's having a bad day after he messages you, and you hug Sirius before he tells you he wants a cry.

You step out onto the pavement and find Sirius pulled up with Remus, waiting for you and James. You feel bad for ditching but not as much as so when they look so happy to see you. "What if I'd convinced you to stay? They would've been out here all night, probably," you ask before you get to the car.

"Wouldn't have worked." He opens your door for you.

You slide along the back seat for James to sit next to you and are welcomed by a lovely warmth. James gets in too and you think he wants to click you in as well but decides against it.

"You okay, lovely?" Remus asks from the passenger seat, he twists around to look you over and you feel bare.

"I'm okay," you say softly. "Hasn't Sirius been drinking?"

Sirius snorts from behind the wheel. "I've had two, don't worry, lovely."

You know you're deflecting, you suspect as soon as Sirius also asks if you're okay, you might cry. Your throat feels thick with an upset that feels worse now in a contained space. This is half the reason you wanted to leave on your own. Not that being surrounded by your boys when you're upset is bad, just might've been easier to steel yourself.

You reach a hand down on the seat between you and James and scrunch it tight. He unclicks himself and sides over to you. He gets an arm around your shoulder and encourages you into his side, as much as your seatbelt will allow.

"You okay?" Sirius dangerously whips his head back to look at you, pouting.

The first tear dribbles down your cheek.

You hide your face in James's firm shoulder and shake your head. He tuts and cages your head in with a big hand. Your tears are hot and slow, marring James's pretty shirt. You hope you don't turn messy with it. He looks good.

James murmurs something like, "Hurry up, Sirius." The car roars.

You feel the car slow at a red light and peel yourself away from James's chest. Face wet and hot, your hair stuck to your cheeks. "Shit, I'm sorry," you curse and wipe your face with a rough hand. James's arm stays around your shoulder.

"Hey, it's okay, yeah?" Remus uses his long arm to grab your knee. He squeezes firmly and it feels nice. You hope you're close to home, you want to hug Sirius as well. He looks similarly worked up.

"I'm sorry I made us leave," you sniffle.

"You didn't make us do anything," James says, voice as firm as he can manage. "We don't mind. It's just...you gotta tell us if you're not feeling good, okay? We might be able to prevent these pretty eyes from crying." He uses the side of his finger to wipe under your watery eyes, brushing over your clumped eyelashes. You blink slowly.

"I didn't want to ruin-"

"You didn't ruin anything," Sirius interrupts, "We just want to make sure you're okay."

He steals another look at you. You nod gently. "Yeah."

"Remus was complaining to me, anyways," James says, smug. "Said I looked so good that he wanted to take me home."

You start to laugh, much to the boy's pleasure. "Really?"

"Yeah," James nods, "Said he wanted to - and I quote - jump my bones."

Remus looks incensed. You're just happy the teasing isn't on your behalf for once. "Whatever, James."

"You do look pretty, James," you say, still sidled up to him, "I don't blame him."

He squeezes you hard. and laughs, pleased you're feeling better. "I'm sure Remus'll be telling me all night how good this shirt looks on me."

"It does!"

"Okay, James's head might explode," Sirius says. He'd looked just as in love all night, you'd seen it.

"Woah!"

You sit back and watch your boys fight over stupid things. You think you could do it for the rest of your life if they allowed it. You're sure they'd make a fool of themselves over and over if it made you happy.

Sirius catches you staring. "Feeling a little better?"

You nod, pleased, but embarrassed to be caught. "Yeah."

"Good." You must be almost home.

"Hey, Sirius?" you say softly.

"Yeah, lovely?" He might crash if he keeps turning to look at you like that.

"Can we stop at McDonald's?" you ask softly, even softer eyes like he'd ever say no.

"Yeah, sounds good. Remus needs a happy meal."

-