#5-10k

[cromernet]

→ NEW RELEASE: The blue and pink of your skin by @bvidzsoo

Feedback: Happy Birthday to me or Happy Birthday to Yunho, either way I loved this so much, the bruise soulmarks is so interesting to me too, now I'm wondering what everyone else's looks like. I loved the cringe at sharing with Jeonghan or Soonyoung. I don't think I could share a room with Soonyoung irl. This made me so happy and it feels like a good way to celebrate the sunshine of him. I loved it.!!!

The blue and pink of your skin

ᨒCherry Blossom, March Eventᨒ

Author: bvidzsoo

Pairing: sunshine!Jeong Yunho x grumpy!reader

ᨒ Warning: cursing ᨒ Word count: 7.3k ᨒ Rating: sfw ᨒ Genre: fluff, soulmates: a touch from your soulmate will leave an imprint there, road trip, stuck together/roommates, sunshine & grumpy, one friend group, slight enemies to lovers ᨒ Summary: If there's one person you never understood, and stopped trying to, it was Jeong Yunho. Upon your first meeting back in college, you just knew he'd be a pain in the ass...and you were right. His vibrant personality matched with the constant smile on his face and sickening positivity always made you stay away from him. But much to your dismay, your friend groups mashed quite well, and years after college, you were still going strong and hanging out at any given opportunity. Much to your horror, your best friend makes you share a room and a bed with Yunho for the weekend, and that's when things change...but not for the reasons you'd first think of.

A/N: Helloo, my loves! And so, we've reached the penultimate drabble of this event, it feels kind of bittersweet, but I am so glad I could share these stories with you, Mina and I had a blast planning this event and writing all the little stories. Posting this drabble today was strategic since I wanted it to be the closest to Yunho's birthday, hehe, so happy belated birthday to our Yunho! ^^ Out of all the stories, this was the first one I got an idea for, so I'm really excited to finally post it. It turned out shorter than I expected (and I'm glad for that ahahaha). I hope you enjoy, I'd like to thank everyone who have shared their thoughts on all of our stories, we appreciate your feedback lots! That being said, let me know what you thought of this one, and I hope to see you around for my other stories! ^^ divider @cromernet

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@mintsugarr93

            You groaned as you stretched your numb muscles, massaging your calf as you waited for your best friend’s boyfriend to unload your luggage. The drive had taken you three hours, but the longer you stared at the visage, the more you realised it was worth being stuffed inside a car next to Jeong Yunho. You scowled to yourself as your eyes shifted onto the tall man, who was—unsurprisingly—laughing about something he was watching on his phone. His bony knee had been digging into your thigh the whole ride because the tallest and largest man had decided to take the middle seat for some obscure reason. You rolled your eyes and faced Seungcheol as he finally grabbed your duffel bag, hauling it out of the trunk of his car.

“Damn,” He muttered, one eyebrow raised teasingly, “Did you only pack dumbbells, or why is this so heavy?”

You were about to retort something just as Jeonghan slid up next to you, smirking mischievously, “Nah, this lovely lady wouldn’t leave the house without all that face paint she uses. Had to make sure everything was packed.”

“You assholes.” You snapped, shrugging off Jeonghan’s arm and ripping your duffle bag out of Seungcheol’s hands, flipping them off as you stormed off towards the lovely-looking beach house. It looked rather spacious, and judging based on the pictures your best friend had shown you of the interior, it had a Greek theme going on. You sighed as you walked up the front steps, still able to hear Seungcheol and Jeonghan’s amused cackles, making you shake your head. At times, you couldn’t believe you were friends with such idiots, and for such a long time, at that. Has it been five—no, maybe six years—since your friend group formed, all thanks to one drunken night when all of you just so happened to attend the same frat party, teaming up randomly for a game that you couldn’t even recall anymore? You remembered those days fondly, even called it the Golden Times since you’ve never had as much fun in your life as then. And now, with college over and everyone having busy lives, things were a lot calmer and more complicated. It was a miracle everyone was able to make it this weekend, your little get-together was much expected and welcomed.

The wood creaked under your feet as you took to the second floor, following your best friend’s instructions from this morning. The rooms had already been assigned to everyone, and who your roommate would be was still a mystery. You were just about to guess who it could be when you heard footsteps following after you on the stairs, making you turn your head back. Your heart dropped when your eyes fell on Jeong Yunho, who—once again—was unsurprisingly grinning and looking as happy as if he had won the lottery. He nodded at you in a small greeting as if you hadn’t already seen each other—hell, you were even forced to breathe the same air for three hours—and out of instinct, your feet carried you up the stairs faster. Yunho looked amused as he jogged up after you, and as if you were a little kid, you found yourself basically running for your assigned room, heart beating fast. Your duffle bag was getting in the way of your legs, forcing you to be a lot slower than you usually were, so you chanced a look back over your shoulder, only to see Yunho still following you. Your heart lurched in your chest as he laughed—as if this was amusing to him—and you finally made it inside your room, whirling around as you stared at Yunho wide-eyed. Why was he following you?! Wasn’t it enough you had to endure his laughter and stupid stories for two hours? And then, you had to sit there stiffly as his head lolled to the side, landing on your shoulder as soft snores left his mouth?! God, everything about Jeong Yunho was so damn irritating—you wanted to scream. Instead, you slammed the door in his face before he could reach the threshold of your assigned room, heart racing in your chest.

You’d be ashamed to admit your age if anyone were to see you right now, but as the doorknob started twisting, your hand shot out and grabbed it, keeping it from turning. Your eyebrows furrowed as the person on the other side wouldn’t give up—Yunho, the person was Yunho—and you yelped when the door started rattling. Your fingers flexed and your muscles tensed as you dropped your duffle bag, holding the door with both hands, cursing when even the doorframe started shaking.

“What the fuck,” You heard a confused mutter on the other side, “Is this stuck?”

God, why did your best friend hate you? There was no way in hell your best friend willingly made Yunho your roommate—she must’ve been held at gunpoint by Seungcheol when she made the arrangements.

“Hey, Y/N? You good in there?!” And God, you hated the slight concern lacing Yunho’s tone as your hands started aching from your vice-like grip on the doorknob, “The door’s stuck!”

“No, it’s not, you idiot.” You hissed under your breath, accepting your fate as you closed your eyes and took a deep breath. Then, on the next push, you twisted the doorknob suddenly and yanked it open, making Yunho stumble forward with an alarmed yelp. His eyes widened as he barrelled inside your shared room, hands out in front of himself to brace him in case he fell. He looked like a clown, a tall and idiotic one, as he found his footing—legs in a wide stance and mouth open in a silent scream. He slowly turned his body, ears burning red, an unsure smile on his lips.

“Oh my God, that was scary.” He muttered as he looked around the room, his eyes falling on you as he grabbed his backpack off his shoulder, “Well, hi there, roomie!”

And God, how much you hated that cheerful—full of life and happiness and the desire to live—smile on his handsome face, you wanted to both scream and punch him.

“Roomie, my ass.” You huffed before turning around and storming outside, leaving a confused Yunho looking after you. His head had tilted to the side as he rubbed his nape with an awkward chuckle leaving his lips, and he shrugged before he grabbed your duffle bag to place it on the left side of your shared queen bed since he knew you preferred sleeping on that side. Meanwhile, with your blood boiling and your cheeks red from both anger and embarrassment, you stormed out onto the back deck, instantly finding your best friend. She was already sipping a cocktail out of a fake coconut, and you wondered when she had made that since you had just arrived.

“Kang Seulgi!” You snapped, arms crossing over your chest as you blocked the sun from your best friend’s face. Yeosang, her brother, jumped in the seat next to her when he heard their surname being called, placing a hand over his heart.

“Lord, I’m still not used to you shouting at us.” He muttered under his breath, going back to his magazine when you threw him a dirty look, “And I’ve been listening to it for at least ten years.”

Seulgi’s laughter drowned out her brother’s muttering, and you tried to channel your anger into your issue with Seulgi only. Yeosang was a lovely man, and you sometimes preferred him over his twin sister, but his snarky comments could make you climb walls and hang upside down like a female Spiderman.

“What’s the matter, my dear—”

But Seulgi wasn’t even finished asking when you were already speaking, fast, and throwing an accusing finger in her face, “You made me and Yunho room together?! Are you insane?!”

You felt Yeosang look over his magazine, amusement dancing on his features as Seulgi and he shared a look. Oh, so this wasn’t just Seulgi’s idea—sometimes you wondered why you decided to be friends with such devils.

“Honey, I thought we were over this.” Seulgi raised an eyebrow, taking a sip of her cocktail nonchalantly, “It’s only for two nights, for God’s sake. And it’s literally Yunho, the sweetest guy you could ever meet. Do you want me to switch him up with Jeonghan? Or Soonyoung?”

You shuddered hearing those two names and quickly shook your head, realizing that rooming with one evil person or one that would never shut up was perhaps worse than rooming with the guy who’s been getting on your nerves since the moment you met him. Which was…five or six years ago, at that college party that changed your lives for the better and an eternity.

“Don’t be mad at me, my dear,” Seulgi pouted, reaching out to hold your hand, “Only you and Yunho aren’t a couple; I think it was expected you two end up rooming together. And because I knew you’d hate me for it, as compensation, I gave you the only room with an ocean view.”

Your flare died out at the mention of being able to see the water from your room, and you pouted as you intertwined your fingers with Seulgi’s. She chuckled, shaking her head at you as she offered you her cocktail. Leaning down, you took a sip and instantly regretted it as the potent alcohol burned your throat, the taste of coconut almost making you gag. Yeosang chuckled as he hid behind his magazine, eyes peeking out when you shuddered.

“I hope yours isn’t as atrocious as hers.” You pointed at the cocktail sitting on the coffee table next to Yeosang, and he shook his head, grinning proudly.

“Jongho’s bartender days had paid off well.” Right, you forgot for a second that Jongho had flown into the country just to go on this get-together with the whole of you. You couldn’t wait to catch up with him, eager to hear all of his stories and the places he’s visited lately. As a rising opera singer, you could confidently say Jongho was the smartest one in your bunch when it came to building a good future for himself. You let go of Seulgi’s hand as you hummed, shuffling on your feet now that you had nothing else to say. You had to room with Yunho whether you liked it or not. Breaking up the couples would’ve been an asshole move, and it would’ve also made you feel uncomfortable—unless Yeri, bless her the angel she was—would end up fighting with Soonyoung over some game, their fight leading her to ditch Soonyoung and room with you instead. One could pray, and you did as you headed back to your room, wanting to unpack your things.

You dragged your feet as you entered the house, the smell of something delicious cooking making your stomach growl. Jeonghan and Seungcheol were already in the kitchen, seasoning the meat and boiling water for ramen, the caramelized onion promising a delicious lunch in just a few hours. As you went up the stairs, you weren’t even surprised to find Soonyoung blasting his music loudly, the door to his and Yeri’s room opened as he was doing push-ups, Yeri nowhere in sight.

“Have a little consideration for some of us, yeah?” You knew Jongho was probably trying to catch up on much-needed sleep, but Soonyoung just pouted before he pushed the door open in your face, not before sticking his tongue out. You rolled your eyes and headed for your room, dread filling your body. Yunho was in there, probably still happy as if he had no worries in this damn world, either smiling or laughing at something on his goddamn phone. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, bracing yourself for the next two days that were to come, then pushed the door open.

Somehow, you weren’t surprised to see Yunho perched up on the edge of the bed, shoes kicked off and his hoodie disregarded as he was playing on his PlayStation Portal, his bottom lip between his teeth and his eyebrows furrowed. The guy was obsessed with gaming throughout college, and you see he hadn’t let go of the bad habit just yet. You didn’t understand what was so entertaining or even pleasurable about wasting your time and life away in front of a console, playing stupid games that either had you mad or screaming at your teammates. Yunho tsked quietly as you walked further inside, shutting the door behind you and stepping out of your shoes, not knowing what to do next. The curtains were undrawn and your eyes settled on the pretty visage for a second, taking in the brightness of the ocean, the waves that crashed against the golden sand not too far from your vacation house. You felt eyes on you, and you turned your head to see Yunho looking up at you with a smile on his lips, the game loading on his console. God, did he have to resemble a damn excited dog? You couldn’t even look at a dog anymore without remembering Yunho, he ruined everything for you.

Looking at your duffle bag on the left side of the bed, realizing that Yunho had already unpacked his things on the right side of the room, made something snap in your chest as your heart started racing again. And what better way than to take your frustration out on Yunho? You gritted your teeth and stormed towards the bed, making Yunho’s eyes widen as you were headed straight for him. He sat up a bit taller when you stopped inches away from him, hands on your hips as you frowned, gnawing on your bottom lip for a second. He opened his mouth, and before he could say something to piss you off even more, your loud voice was clear in the room, “We need rules.”

Yunho didn’t say anything as he looked at you confused, tilting his head as his eyebrows slightly furrowed, “Uhm, what for?”

“Did you think I would just let you in my personal space?” You raised your eyebrows at Yunho and he pouted, the game on his console dinging that it was about to start. He looked down to pause it, then faced you again.

“I mean, we are adults, so I just didn’t expect for us to have…rules.” For someone who was a philosophy professor, he sure as hell looked and sounded dumb right now. You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms in front of your chest instead, tapping your foot against the floor impatiently.

“That’s exactly why we need rules.” You huffed, then cleared your throat to make yourself understood, “Don’t turn on the overhead lights once I’ve gone to bed; if you snore, you’re instantly out. Clean the sink and toilet after you use it, it’s literally not that hard to close the lid. If I find pubic hair in the shower, you’re never using our bathroom ever again. If you have to fart, fine, but if it’s loud and smelly—for the love of God, Yunho, just use the damn terrace, I don’t want to partake in it. Keep your things on your side of the room, don’t touch my stuff and don’t steal my charger. And most importantly, don’t touch me—not even accidentally—while we are in bed. The pillows I’ll put between us are not to be moved, yeah?!”

Yunho just blinked at you, mouth slightly open as he seemed to be processing the information. As you stared at each other, you realized his black hair had gotten a bit longer since the last time you’d seen him, getting in his eyes. Eyes which were round and a pretty brown colour, staring up at you innocently as if you had accused him of a murder he had never committed. A murder that you would commit if he didn’t respect your boundaries.

“I mean, okay.” His voice was unsure as he pouted, looking around the room, “Can I at least have a little section of the wardrobe for my clothes?”

Great, and now you were the tyrant. You huffed and went to grab your duffle bag, hauling it up on the bed to start unpacking, “You act as if I just stripped you of all of your rights.”

“Might as well have done that, would’ve felt less stingy.” You froze, eyebrows furrowing as you gave Yunho a questioning look. He was still watching you, his cheerful expression finally gone—and the triumph you had expected to feel at being the cause of it never came, leaving you confused. Before you could question what he had meant, Yunho looked down and pressed play on his console, a loud and long sigh leaving his lips as he scooted further up on the bed, leaning his back against the headboard. You gave his body a longer glance than necessary, then went back to the task at hand while also trying to locate all the available pillows in the room to put between the two of you on the bed.

            It was as if no time had passed, as if you were all just naïve and unassuming young adults in your early twenties again, doing the stupidest things that came to mind, sharing stories that certainly were laced with white lies to make them sound cooler, and life felt good for now. As you had dinner this evening, you came to realise that your life had become too monotonous, too frigid. You did the same things daily, getting up and going to work, only to return tired in the afternoon to a household that was empty and bland, waiting for you to fill it with life…which rarely happened since you couldn’t be bothered to pour your time into insignificant things. Most people that you knew were already paired up with their soulmates, having long found them. Your friend group—something that still shocked anyone you told them about—was formed by couples who were soulmates. You knew the Universe had a plan for everyone, stringing them together in mysterious ways, but this one was downright bizarre. Nobody would’ve thought on the night of your first meeting that you’d end up so tight-knit and important to each other, slowly but gradually each one of you discovering their soulmates. Well, except for you and Yunho.

It's not that you weren’t trying to find them; it’s that you were mostly too busy to bother with that, and you also weren’t fond of physical closeness. In a world which requires a touch from your soulmate to leave a mark, thus discovering your match, the thought made you shudder as you rarely let anyone close enough to touch you. Seulgi and Yeosang were exceptions, as were Jeonghan and Seungcheol since they never listened and only did it to annoy you. Sometimes, you wondered if the Universe accidentally mismatched their soulmates for someone else instead of each other, but whenever you voiced that thought, Seulgi would whine, and Jihyo would threaten to beat you up if you repeated that sentence. You knew better than anyone else what it felt like to be surrounded by unconditional love and adoration-filled looks passed between soulmates, and yet you wondered if Yunho ever felt the envy you did as you watched him across the table, head tipped back as he laughed loudly at whatever story Soonyoung was animatedly telling him.

He had always seemed so content, so confident in his aloneness; it made you wonder whether Yunho simply didn’t care about the existence of soulmates. Maybe he had a partner he wasn’t telling you all about, not that you were interested enough to know. The dinner table had been loud as everyone talked over each other, conversations flying around the table without stopping, the friend group eager to catch up and be nostalgic over the past. It felt nice to step away and relax a little, to be surrounded by people who had known you at your lowest and highest. You were thankful for having them, even if you rarely showed it to them, and as your eyes got glassy, you forced yourself to blink the tears away and blame it on the wine. Listening to Jongho, watching the happiness and excitement on his face, made something coil in your stomach, so proud of him for achieving his dream. It was now that you realised you wouldn’t change anything if you were allowed to go back in time—even if that meant meeting Yunho, too.

You don’t know when this displeasure for him started, but you were suspicious it had something to do with the fact that he had laughed in your face after you started crying over a failed grade. You were a perfectionist and worked hard for everything in life; failing at something felt like you were the biggest failure, and you did not appreciate Yunho’s cheery disposition as he told you that the world wouldn’t end if you weren’t good at everything. He wouldn’t get it, he barely cared about anything, he was nonchalant and allowed life to take him to whatever places. You weren’t like that and you hated the envy that consumed your veins when you watched how carefree he was, with how much ease he navigated his life. Happiness was a feeling everyone chased—yearned to feel—and it had never sat well with you that Yunho just so easily achieved it. There was no way he could be that happy all the time, always smiling and laughing, joking with everyone and making others laugh—something wasn’t right about him, and you hated him for it. You sighed before you took another sip of your wine, looking at Yeri as she sneakily pushed her mushrooms filled with cheese on your plate. Soonyoung and her had been dating for the longest, and yet, Soonyoung still hadn’t memorized the fact that Yeri hated mushrooms and carrots.

Once you were done with dinner, you weren’t surprised to find the boys proposing ridiculous games to play as the girls tried to do damage control. You’ve had a long day and you were sure everyone would want to head to bed earlier today compared to yesterday. Your morning was quiet, much to your surprise, Yunho had respected all of your rules and even aired the bathroom after using it. By the time you had come back inside your shared room, he was gone, the scent of his cologne strong as the pleasant breeze brushed inside through the open terrace door. He had also kept to his side of the bed, and you had woken up during the night because you had to pee, finding him clutching a pillow to his chest as he intangibly muttered to himself, his cheeks puffy and hair mused up. Before you could stare at him and become creepy, you went to the bathroom and groaned as you realized Yunho looked adorable. You spent the rest of your day out on the beach, enjoying the warm weather and the refreshing water. Then you had gone to town and hit up pubs and some stores before you returned to your beach house, everyone prettying up so you’d head out at night to have some fun. Getting ready with Yunho was rather domestic and left you feeling weird as you shared a mirror in the bathroom, you doing your makeup and him shaving. No words were exchanged as you were both focused, but you couldn’t help but stare at Yunho from time to time. He’d smile at you softly before finishing up, even asking you questions about what moisturizer he should use to soothe his face after shaving.

It felt oddly normal, right, even, which messed with your head and heart since you hated Jeong Yunho more than anything on this Earth. And now, forced to partake in a game that made no sense, you could feel your heart racing as your arm brushed against Yunho’s, your naked skins hot against each other. Nobody wanted to do the dishes since there were many, so the boys had decided that the slowest couple that would reach the finish line with their ankles tied together would be the ones doing the dishes. It was stupid—and hilarious at the same time—but you refused to admit it when you realized just how excited Yunho was over this stupid idea. And even like that, you couldn’t hide your competitiveness as you focused on the red ribbon tied to a little stick Jongho had pressed into the sand. The moon was above the ocean, shining its calming light over the water and your friend group, as the porch light didn’t reach this far. Your flashlights from your phones helped with better lighting as you made sure you weren’t stepping on crabs, seashells, any small rocks or anything else that could cut your bare feet. You felt goosebumps erupt on your exposed arms due to the chilly breeze, having to grip your long skirt as you were afraid it would get in the way of your success. You raised it above your knees as you stared ahead, tsking when you felt Yunho tugging on your ankle.

“Sorry.” He muttered, looking down at you as Yeri screamed as she and Soonyoung finally passed the finish line. Jihyo was laughing loudly as she showed them the time, the slowest couple so far, and Jongho cheered with malice as he was draped over Yeosang’s back, the couple currently in first place. You chuckled as you watched the two men, their cheeks flushed from the cocktails they’d been having throughout the night, and you jumped when you felt Yunho tenderly pat your wrist, “We are up next.”

Right, it was your turn. You bit your lower lip and clumsily hopped to the start line, feeling perspiration break out on your forehead despite the colder weather. Your heart was racing in anticipation and adrenaline as you realized you and Yunho might not make it to the finish line without faceplanting since you both seemed to be klutzy about this.

“Ready?” Jongho asked, his words slightly slurred, and you wondered how he and Yeosang finished so quickly without tumbling even once, “Start!”

Jeonghan’s loud clap made you jump even though you knew it was coming, and your eyes widened when you felt your tied ankle being dragged by Yunho as he took twice the length of a footstep you would’ve called normal. You yelped as you realized Yunho was practically dragging you after himself, your left hand curling into his bicep as you felt him hold you by the waist to stabilize you when he felt you stagger.

“Come on!” Yunho called out, looking down at you with dark eyes, determined not to lose this. You huffed but had to agree with him; you were not going to wash the monstrous amount of dishes in the kitchen, so you locked in, “That’s it! One—two—three—”

And Yunho continued to count as your steps synched up, finding the perfect rhythm as you were suddenly power walking down the sand, headed for the finish line. You didn’t even realise it at first, but you had started laughing at some point, as did Yunho, who started giggling, jarred on by the booing and cheering of your friends. Jeonghan tried to sabotage you by throwing a pebble in front of you, making Jihyo chastise him for it, but thanks to the long strides Yunho was forcing you to take—not everyone had legs for days like him—you thankfully missed hurting your foot.

“Come on, Y/N, Yunho!” Yeosang cheered you on as he watched the timer in his hands. His face lit up with excitement as he started jumping up and down, “Oh my God! They are going to beat our time, Joong—”

“Bullshit!” Jongho called loudly just as you crossed the finish line, making you cheer loudly as your chest moved up and down quickly as you tried to catch your breath, your heart racing in your chest. Yunho seemed to be glowing under the moonlight, his hair tussled by the wind and the top buttons of his shirt undone and exposing his collarbones and a wink of his chest and—shit, Yunho was gorgeous, and you weren’t laughing anymore as you had stopped to stare at his breathtaking smile.

Someone screamed in delight and you flinched, turning your head in time to watch Jongho falling to the ground dramatically as Yeosang grinned, “You two beat our time! You are in the first place!”

A gasp left your lips, and forgetting your ankle was still tied to Yunho’s, you made to jump up, only to be violently brought back down to the earth by the rope. You gasped again, more in fright, as you felt your right leg give out underneath you, but before you could hit the sand or, worse, sprain your ankle, you felt a strong hand wrap around your left bicep, holding you up. Long fingers pressed into your skin as you found anchor in Yunho’s wrist with your right hand, your own fingers curling into his skin painfully. Your heart was racing as you stared up at Yunho, who looked concerned until his eyebrows furrowed. You winced as you felt your skin burning under his grip, and the two of you released each other at the same time. As Seulgi came to help you untie the rope around your ankles, you dared to glance at your bicep, only to find it bruising into a dark spot right where Yunho’s fingertips had dug into your skin. You gulped nervously, something like dread filling the pit of your stomach as you watched Yunho rub his wrist, chewing on his bottom lip as his skin was blooming with black bruise marks as well.

No, this couldn’t be it. He couldn’t be the one. Anyone but Jeong Yunho, please, Universe.

            The second your eyes flew open the next morning, you had one thought and one only in your mind. Check the bruising. If it was gone by now, you almost had a panic attack over nothing last night. If it was still there, then you’d never want to see Jeong Yunho ever again. You exhaled slowly as you gulped, turning your head to the left to check whether Yunho was still asleep or not. He was softly snoring, facing you as his arm was draped over the pillows you had placed between the two of you, and you came to the alarming realization that the hand which was resting over your stomach was brushing against Yunho’s warm skin. Your fingers seemed to be lazily intertwined and your cheeks burned in both shame and anger as you slowly pulled your hand back, staring up at the ceiling. You were leaving back home in just a few hours, and you hoped the moment you’d unlock your front door would come sooner. Sure, seeing your friends was everything you needed, but possibly being Jeong Yunho’s soulmate was everything you didn’t need.

Taking a quiet, deep breath, you slowly sat up, trying to keep the rustling of sheets minimal so as not to wake Yunho. Then, you said a quiet prayer and dared a peek at your left bicep—only for your world to come crashing down. Your body froze, your limbs going numb as you gaped at your pink and blueish skin, Yunho’s fingertips forever etched into your skin. It was there, nothing could take it away or modify it. The mark left by Yunho was permanent. And he was your soulmate, and you couldn’t do anything about it. Your heart started racing as you swiftly got out of bed, forgetting about Yunho’s presence as you felt tears gather in your eyes. Yunho was an amazing man, you’d be dumb to deny that fact, but you’ve spent your whole life hating him ever since you had gotten to know him. Why did it have to be him? And how come it took you two so long to figure it out? To find each other? You realized it was because you had never touched before, not like this, at least. Yunho knew you hated physical closeness, and unless a game or circumstance forced you together, you couldn’t remember a time when he willingly hovered over you or touched you.

You exhaled a shuddering breath as you continued pacing in your room, still dark inside since Yunho had drawn the blackout curtains together after you complained last morning about the sun falling on your face and waking you up unnecessarily early. You didn’t notice Yunho stirring awake as you bit through your nails, destroying the pretty manicure your friend had given you, and you could swear you still felt Yunho’s firm grip on your skin, his palm warm and smooth, gentle despite the way he held you up. Twisting your arm and looking down at the colourful bruise once again, you wished it would’ve stayed black…then your soul wouldn’t be tied to Jeong Yunho’s. Movement in your peripheral made you freeze again, body tense as you turned around to face Yunho. He had sat up in the bed, hair tousled in all directions, his cheeks chubby and flushed, his eyes puffy, and his lips swollen as he rubbed a large hand over his face, sighing loudly as he leaned against the headboard. It seemed like he hadn’t noticed your distress yet, and you chewed on your bottom lip, instinctively hiding the mark he had left on your bicep last night.

It took him a few more seconds of staring at you to notice the way your fingernails dug into your skin, and his eyes widened minusculely, gulping loudly as his eyes slowly travelled to his right wrist. You didn’t have to look at his skin to know, his quiet gasp was enough to tell you that, yes, this wasn’t a dream nor a sick joke. You and Yunho were soulmates.

“Y/N.” His voice was deep and laced with sleep as he scrambled forward on the bed, his legs getting tangled in the sheets, and something tugged at your heart. God, you hated this. You hated that Seulgi and Yeosang had been right about finding your soulmate…once they were yours, there was no going back, no blissful ignorance, no freedom whatsoever as all you wanted to do was curl up in Yunho’s lap and inhale his strong cologne, run your fingers through his hair and feel his bodily heat, “I’m—we are—”

“I’m hungry.” Was all you said as you grabbed your hoodie—it was Yunho’s, but in your haste to leave, you failed to notice. And then, you were out the door before Yunho could say anything else, his mouth open and his heart racing as he watched you slip away with thundering footsteps. Just how would he mend your already rocky bond?

            Going radio silent on all of your friends was nasty of you, but you needed space and peace. You needed air to clear your thoughts, and you certainly didn’t need a second person’s opinion trying to convince you that finding your soulmate was the best thing in the world. So, what if it was? What if you didn’t want to have a soulmate? Who were you kidding? You’ve always wondered who it’d be and what they’d be like, but now that you knew, you had no idea what to do with yourself. Despite the warm day you had ahead of yourself, you wore a long-sleeved blouse to work, getting curious glances from your co-workers. It was cold in the mornings, so you had grabbed the hoodie you had worn to sleep last night after wearing it the whole day, only to realise in horror that it was Yunho’s and that you had taken it at the vacation house right in front of him. Everything felt mortifying today, even brewing your coffee in the late afternoon, but nothing could’ve prepared you for the visceral reaction you had when someone knocked on your door, and you opened it without checking the peephole first.

Your hands trembled as your grip tightened around the door handle, eyes drinking in Yunho’s tall form as he stood outside your doorstep, smiling sheepishly. His shorts reached just below his knees, a white t-shirt tucked inside with a brown belt hooked around his hips, the colour matching his Vans. Your heart stopped beating when your eyes fell on the flowers in his right hand, the bruise bright and obvious against his pale skin. You gulped, nervous, angry, and unsure at the same time as you stepped back, opening the door wider to let Yunho inside.

“Hi.” His tone was tentative as if he didn’t know how to approach you, and you felt like an asshole that Yunho had to tiptoe around you. He had no idea what attitude you’d have towards him now, and you couldn’t blame him. You’ve always made it obvious that you didn’t like him, and despite his efforts to get on your good side, he only managed to piss you off more each time.

“Hi.” You greeted back, tone impassive as he followed you to your kitchen after he left his shoes in the doorway. He was nervously fidgeting with his fingers, rubbing his chin, and you could see the beginning of a stubble growing out. You faced Yunho, the counter between your bodies as you eyed the flowers in his hand, quirking an eyebrow. Yunho blushed, then chuckled awkwardly before he placed the flowers on the counter, pushing them tentatively towards you.

“These are for you.” He said quietly, avoiding eye contact as you reached your hand out to take the flowers. Your hands brushed together accidentally, and you felt electricity coursing through your fingers. Yunho’s head snapped up as his eyes widened, and you knew he had felt it, too. You sighed, leaning against the counter in defeat as you grabbed the flowers, looking down at them with a tired smile.

“Thank you, this is a sweet gesture.” You muttered, tracing the petals as you heard a surprised sound leaving Yunho’s mouth. You chuckled, looking up at him in defeat, “I’m sorry for the way I reacted yesterday. I was…in shock.”

“It’s okay, I understand.” Yunho shrugged, pulling out a stool to sit on. You grabbed a vase and filled it with water as Yunho watched you tinker around in your kitchen, placing the pretty flowers in the vase, “How are you feeling now?”

You chuckled humourlessly, “I’m still shocked, but I’m not in denial anymore.”

“Yeah, that’s good.” Yunho averted his eyes, tracing the pattern of the marble of your countertop, “Is it…so horrible that I am your soulmate?”

Your eyebrows furrowed as you felt a lump in your throat. Gone was the happy and assured Yunho, replaced with someone sad-sounding and sceptical, “What? No, I just—I’m a horrible person. I’m sorry for making you feel unwanted, Yunho. I just…I spent my whole life ignoring you and disliking you, and now we’re…supposed to spend our lives together, it’s just so weird.”

You could’ve worded that better, and you only realized that when Yunho flinched, avoiding eye contact, “Wait! I—fine, I might as well be honest now. I was put off by your confidence at first; I didn’t understand how one could smile so much, laugh all the time and have no hardships. Then, as our friend group grew closer together, I realized it’s just who you were. A happy, cheerful, positive person with a bright outlook on life, and I just—that was so foreign to me. I thought you were fake for never showing how you truly felt, for smiling even when you were sad or angry. I realise it sounds really shitty of me now that I’m saying it out loud, but I genuinely don’t hate you, Yunho. I just find you…enigmatic?”

You didn’t expect Yunho to smile, but then again, you shouldn’t have been surprised that it was his first reaction. He chuckled and lowered his head, eyebrows furrowed before he looked up into your eyes, “I hope you’ll learn to be less grumpy by my side, then, Y/N, I can’t have you chasing the sunshine away.”

“You are the sunshine.” You slapped a hand over your mouth in terror when you realized you had said that out loud, making Yunho’s head fall back as he started laughing loudly. God, this was so utterly embarrassing. Were you always so cringy?

“That was rather sweet of you, thank you.” He said once he had calmed down, a faint blush painting his cheeks, “It’s a little hilarious you literally hate me for being a cheerful person, but I get it…I suppose. We are different in many ways, but you know what they say…opposites attract.”

“Right, that.” You muttered under your breath, pursing your lips, “What now?”

“Well,” Yunho seemed to think for a second, his forehead lightly creasing as he hummed lowly, “I say we slowly get to know each other.”

“But we already know each other.” You quickly said, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

“Yes, but you have a prejudice over me, and I also have my own beliefs about your personality, so…I say we take it from zero and rediscover each other. If that’s alright with you.” As an afterthought, Yunho added with a mutter, “After all, there’s plenty of ways we don’t know each other yet.”

Your cheeks flushed as your mind conjured up an image of Yunho you’d rather not fantasize about while the man was right in front of you, so you cleared your throat and squared your shoulders, trying to look serious despite the knowing glint in Yunho’s eyes with which he was looking at you, “Right, sure. That sounds…okay, I can work with that.”

Yunho stood, grinning widely at you, “Can I hug you, then?”

You gnawed on your bottom lip for a second before you nodded, walking around the counter to approach Yunho. He was beaming at you as he opened his arms, and your heart lurched all the way up into your throat before it settled into a frenzied rhythm, making you almost stagger into your soulmate. Yunho’s t-shirt was soft as your cheek landed on his shoulder, nose faintly brushing against the warm skin of his neck, and your eyes fluttered closed when Yunho’s arms secured around you, pulling you flush against himself. You exhaled quietly and circled his waist, feeling your cheeks burn as Yunho hummed in contentment, nuzzling his nose against the top of your head. He held you firmly like he knew you had all the time in the world, and you’ve never felt as safe as in this moment. Your muscles were lax, your mind quiet as you lost yourself in Yunho’s warmth and familiar cologne, cheeks burning brighter when you remembered that you hadn’t stopped wearing his hoodie ever since you accidentally took it. Thank the Universe you had changed out of it when you got home, or else you’d be beyond embarrassed about it.

“Oh, I cannot wait to get used to this,” Yunho whispered into the crown of your head, and you swore you felt your legs turn into a puddle as you turned your head into his neck, trying to refrain from giggling as you bit your bottom lip. You didn’t fight the feeling and pressed a swift kiss against his pulse point, making Yunho’s arms tighten around your torso. You would’ve never thought you’d do a one-eighty when it came to Yunho, but as your soulmate mark buzzed with warmth and electricity, you realized you were safe and looking ahead to a bright future.

Quite literally, since your soulmate was like the sun.

© HONGJOONGSPOETRY & BVIDZSOO 2025 - All rights reserved. Copying, editing, reposting or translating our work is not allowed.

[ksficrec]

Run with the Hares (Hunt with the Hounds)

By: @brighteuphony

Link: Ao3

Words: 9k | E | tw: -- | Ongoing

--

ANBU masks are passed down. Some are so notorious they never see the light of day, and some are better off staying buried. Kakashi finds himself faced with the past when the Hound is assigned to his guard detail.

🌸 I am so excited abt this fic!!! Brand spanking new, I am beta for it, and it's going to be so much fun!! tysm to brighteuphony for writing this and indulging with me hehehe, join us on this journey

[steddie-fanfic-recs]

Eddie Munson and the Dreamboy

by pukner

Rating: Not Rated Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationship: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Eleven | Jane Hopper & Steve Harrington, Eleven | Jane Hopper & Eddie Munson Character: Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Eleven | Jane Hopper, Robin Buckley Additional Tags: 5+1 Things, Mutual Pining, Pre-Relationship, Eddie Munson Calls Steve Harrington Pet Names, Steve Harrington Has a Crush on Eddie Munson, Eddie Munson Has a Crush on Steve Harrington, Brotherly Steve Harrington, Dreamscapes, Post-Vecna (Stranger Things), Steve Harrington Has Head Trauma, Eddie Munson is Whipped, Eddie Munson Lives, Steve Harrington Has Bad Parents, Steve Harrington's Scoops Ahoy Uniform, Siblings Eleven | Jane Hopper & Steve Harrington, Steve's Hair Obsession Is A Plot Point, Requited Love, First Kiss, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington Friendship, Robin doesn't show up much but she is his SOULMATE Words: 8,147 Chapters: 1/1

Summary

"How'd you get in here--" Steve hisses. "Your security sucks, sweetheart," says Eddie. Then, "Actually, that isn't true. It was a nightmare getting here, and the inside of your brain is a fucking labyrinth." Or, five times El and Eddie find a version of Steve Harrington while traversing his mindscape to drag him out of a coma (thanks, Vecna). And one time Steve finds Eddie.

[imthedr3amer]

📖 Fic rec: SPN, Wincest, Explicit 👂

Rating: Explicit

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: M/M

Fandom: Supernatural

Relationship: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester

Additional Tags: Wincest - Freeform, Sibling Incest, Deaf Character, Curses [Extra tags by me: Top Dean Winchester/Bottom Sam Winchester, Deaf Dean Winchester, Temporary Disability, Brief Internalised Ableism, First Time, Mutual Masturbation, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex]

Language: English

Stats: Published: 2011-06-25 Words: 7,482

Simple As That

by BewareTheIdes15

Summary: "The back of Dean’s head probably makes a crack sound as it hits the tile wall, but of course, he doesn’t hear it, so his entire sensory perception is narrowed down to Sam’s rictus of a snarl way too close to his face, the heat of Sam’s palm burning into his chest through his t-shirt and the faint scent of sweat and spent gun powder and something that his brain can only supply as ‘Sammy’ filling his nostrils."

[Don't forget to toss kudos and a comment to the author. 🫶]

[My thoughts: Amazing fic. The psychotic, irrational, erotic co-dependence of the Gencest > Weirdcest > Wincest pipeline on loving display for those with an eye for it.]

[cromernet]

→ NEW RELEASE: Body to Body by @xomakara

Feedback: dont ask why but i was literally just chanting Mingi the whole time, I have been hot and heavy for the man recently, the sleep paralysis nightmare man has been haunting me. Double M you know what that spells...mm....or something like that. This was so hot btw.

Body to Body

SUMMARY |  Your boyfriend, Mingi, brings his new friend, Mark, home and catches you in a unexpected situation.

PAIRINGS |  Mingi (Ateez) x Reader x Mark (NCT)

RATING |  Mature, NSFW, EXPLICIT, MDNI, 18+, Any Minors and Ageless Blogs will be blocked 

GENRE |  smut, just pure unadulterated smut

CONTENT/WARNINGS |  profanity, threesome, voyeurism, cuckolding, f.masturbation, unprotective sex, oral sex (both male/female receiving and giving), anal sex, double penetration, fingering, hair grabbing, creampies, daddy kink, pet names, lots of filthy dirty talk

LENGTH |  5,433 words 

TAGLIST |  @lovetaroandtaemin @pars-ley @heechwe @aerangi

NETWORKS |  @illusionnet @cromernet @k-vanity @ksmutsociety @othersideoutlawsnetwork @dove-net @keopihaus

AUTHOR’S NOTE | I blame both Mingi and Mark for this. I blame both of them for this IMOT and this WIWY dance challenges. They have no right to look this good and dance this good. Thank you @hobeemin and @lovetaroandtaemin for beta-reading this! I'm so glad you both liked this! And thank you @aaagustd for the sexy banner~ 💚

NCT Main Masterlist | ATEEZ Main Masterlist

The apartment was quiet, save for the faint hum of the air conditioner and the occasional creak of the couch as you shifted your weight. You were alone—again. Mingi had been gone for weeks, swallowed up by his busy schedule: recording sessions, dance practices, late-night meetings with producers. You understood, of course. Being an idol wasn’t just a job; it was a lifestyle. But that didn’t make the loneliness any easier to bear.

You sighed, scrolling aimlessly through your phone before tossing it onto the coffee table. Your mind wandered, and soon enough, your hand did too. You slipped it between your thighs, feeling the heat already building there. Frustration simmered beneath your skin, and you decided to do something about it. Reaching into the drawer beside the couch, you pulled out your trusty dildo, the one Mingi had bought for you on a whim after a particularly raunchy night. The memory of his smirk as he handed it to you sent a shiver down your spine.

He’s not here, you thought, your fingers tracing the firm silicone. So this will have to do.

You leaned back, letting your head rest against the cushions as you spread your legs wider. The cool air kissed your exposed skin, but it did little to quell the fire growing inside you. You pressed the tip of the dildo against your entrance, teasing yourself as your breath hitched. Slowly, you pushed it in, your body welcoming the familiar stretch. A soft moan escaped your lips as you began to move it in and out, your hips lifting slightly to meet each thrust.

Your eyes fluttered shut, and you let yourself imagine it was Mingi instead of the toy. You pictured his hands gripping your hips, his mouth trailing hot kisses along your neck. You could almost hear his voice whispering in your ear, low and rough with desire. The fantasy was so vivid, so real, that you didn’t even notice the sound of the front door opening.

"Hey, babe, I’m home!" Mingi's voice rang out, followed by the soft thud of his bag hitting the floor.

Your eyes snapped open, and you froze, the dildo still buried deep inside you. Shit. You hadn’t expected him back so soon. Panic surged through you, but before you could react, another voice joined his—tone a little lighter than Mingi’s, more melodic, and entirely familiar.

"Wow, nice place," the stranger said. "I can see why you like coming home."

Your heart raced as footsteps approached the living room. There was no time to hide or cover yourself. All you could do was stare wide-eyed as Mingi rounded the corner, followed closely by another man that you seem to recognize. Both of them stopped short when they saw you sprawled on the couch, the dildo still protruding from between your thighs.

For a moment, no one spoke. The air seemed to crackle with tension as Mingi's gaze flickered from your face to the toy and back again. His expression was unreadable, but you could see the way his jaw tightened, the way his fingers clenched at his sides. Beside him, Mark—, his new friend from NCT—looked equally stunned, his dark eyes widening as he took in the scene.

You wanted to die. Or disappear. Or both. But then, Mingi surprised you by breaking the silence with a low, throaty laugh.

"Well," he said, stepping closer, "this is… unexpected."

His tone was light, teasing even, but there was an edge to it that made your stomach flutter. He knelt beside the couch, his eyes never leaving yours as he reached out to brush a strand of hair from your face. His touch was gentle, but the heat in his gaze was anything but.

"Miss me?" he murmured, his voice dropping to a husky whisper.

You swallowed thickly, trying to form a response, but the words caught in your throat. All you could manage was a shaky nod. Mingi smiled, his hand moving down to cup your cheek. Then, in one swift motion, he leaned in and captured your lips in a searing kiss. You whimpered against his mouth as his tongue slid between your parted lips. Your body arched into him, craving more of his touch, of his taste. You forgot about Mark, forgot about the toy, forgot about everything but Mingi.

"Should I just leave?" Mark said finally, sounding awkward.

"Shit," Mingi muttered, shaking his head, "Forgot you were there."

"Yeah," the other rapper chuckled. "I could see that."

Mingi straightened his back, his gaze shifting from you to his friend. He stared at the other man thoughtfully, the gears in his head clearly turning. Then, to your surprise, he turned back to you, his hand resting lightly on your bare thigh.

"Actually... I have an idea," he said, grinning wickedly. "What do you say, babe? You up for a little... extra attention?"

You blinked, uncertain whether you'd heard him correctly. His suggestion sounded an awful lot like an invitation to a threesome, but that couldn't be right. Your confusion must've been evident, because he laughed softly and brushed his knuckles over your flushed cheeks.

"Only if you and Mark want to," he amended, gesturing toward his friend who still hovered at the edge of the room. "We don't have to, obviously."

Your gaze followed his hand, and you sucked in a sharp breath when you saw the tenting fabric between Mark's legs. Shit. The situation was turning kinkier by the second, and the rush of desire that coursed through you left little doubt about your response.

"You want to share me?" you asked your boyfriend, your voice barely a whisper.

"Would you like that?" he replied. "You always said Mark was your favorite in NCT."

"I'm not opposed to it, but..." you looked at Mark, your cheeks burning, "is that okay with you? Would you... would you want that too?"

The question hung in the air, unanswered. Mark's eyes widened as he realized you were speaking to him now.

"Uh..." he stammered.

"If it makes you feel better," Mingi said, flashing his signature grin, "she sucks cock really, really well."

"Mingi!" you exclaimed, hitting him playfully on the chest.

He caught your arm, pulling you close to steal another kiss, and your objections died away instantly. All thoughts vanished from your mind as his teeth grazed your lower lip. Mingi certainly knew how to distract you, and god, did it work.

Meanwhile, Mark cleared his throat, still trying to process Mingi's proposal. "Are you serious?" he asked, watching the pair of you with obvious fascination. "You'd really be okay with that? Having sex with your girlfriend?"

"Of course," the taller rapper replied, his hand gliding from your thigh to your hip. "If you can make her feel good... why not?"

You flushed even deeper at the shameless admission, but secretly you felt a flutter of excitement. Mingi's eyes met yours again as his fingers continued to stroke your skin.

"So, what do you think, babe?" he prompted. "Want to take a ride on a different model?"

The suggestion sent a jolt through you, and your inner walls clenched involuntarily around the toy.

"Mingi," you moaned.

He laughed, kissing the tip of your nose. "Come on, baby girl," he purred. "Say yes, and we'll give you everything you need."

You were already dripping for him. Hell, maybe for both of them. This was the hottest, most exhilarating offer ever laid before you, and there wasn't a trace of doubt in your heart.

"Yes," you breathed. "Please, Mingi..."

With another wordless moan, you parted your legs as your boyfriend eased the toy from your cunt. It slipped out with an audible pop, and you squirmed at the loss of sensation, craving its return. Mingi chuckled at your eagerness and tossed the dildo onto the floor with a lewd smile. You had only a few seconds to wonder where your boyfriend wanted to start before Mark stood in front you. Your head was still resting on the pillows while his crotch was just in front of your face. You peered at his growing erection with lustful interest.

You looked over, and Mingi was smiling coyly, a smirk plastered on his lips.

"Go ahead, babe," your boyfriend coaxed. "We both know you're a slut for cock. Suck him."

Heat seared through you at his commanding tone. Fuck, you didn't need him telling you. Before you could think twice, you undid the button of Mark's jeans and swiftly tugged his zipper down, exposing the hard length of his member.

Your mouth watered at the sight, and you couldn't help yourself. You needed a taste. Sitting up straighter, you gripped the base and gave his thick cock a testing lick, like you would an ice cream cone.

"Fuck," Mark gasped above you as he tossed back his head.

You felt Mingi's large hands easing your knees further apart from his position at the other end of the couch. Instinctively, you bent your head forward, closing your lips around the tip of Mark's cock. You were aware of your boyfriend moving around, settling between your legs and hooking one over his shoulder. You shivered in anticipation, knowing what was to come.

As if on cue, the warm wetness of Mingi's mouth descended on your pussy. You moaned at the sensations, a rush of heat flooding through you as he swirled his tongue against your throbbing clit. In turn, you swallowed more of Mark's dick, working your tongue over the thick shaft as you struggled to relax your throat.

"God, your mouth feels amazing," the man who wasn’t your boyfriend said above you. His slender fingers stroked your cheek fondly as his gaze dropped to the steady rise and fall of your head.

In response, you hollowed your cheeks and sucked hard, earning a loud groan from him. Mingi hummed against you, lapping at your swollen cunt. You twitched beneath him and squirmed on the cushions.

You weren't sure which one was driving you crazier—the velvety feel of Mark's cock against the sensitive walls of your throat or the slick drag of your boyfriend's tongue against your equally sensitive folds. Both made you want to scream and writhe, to lose yourself in pleasure. Your fingers dug into Mark's thigh, holding him steady. You took his rigid length deeper, eager to please both men. Mingi slipped a finger inside you, curling and pressing until you moaned around Mark's dick and shifted restlessly.

Your skin was blazing from the inside, and your muscles tensed, longing for release. You whimpered around the idol's cock as you ground down onto your boyfriend's mouth. Mingi responded, applying more pressure to your pulsing clit with each flick of his tongue. Mark tangled a hand in your hair, encouraging you as you worked him with increasing fervor, savoring the sounds he was making. They were doing wonders to rev up the desire already pooled within you.

Your boyfriend added another thick digit into the mix, pushing past the limits of your slippery cunt, and you nearly choked. The sharp sensation jolted up your spine.

"Fuck!" you moaned loudly around Mark's cock, your vision almost spotting. You didn't care, not in the slightest. If anything, your enjoyment of this debauchery was only growing by the second.

"That's right. That's my girl," Mingi crooned. His fingers pumped in and out of your greedy hole, spreading you wider. Your stomach quivered at the intensity of the sensation, and you arched into his touch. Your orgasm was already beginning to build, coiling like a spring deep in your core.

"Just a little more," Mark urged as you picked up the pace again, bobbing your head faster.

"You gonna cum all over her face?" you heard your boyfriend tease in a silken purr from the bottom half of your body.

"Better if she swallowed it all down," the other man retorted. His grip tightened in your hair, and you felt him tug lightly, urging you to look up. When you did, you felt him pause and tense, his dick twitching. His eyes met your heavy ones. "Fuck, you're hot. If I knew Mingi's woman looked this pretty, I might've wanted you for my own."

You whined in response, an enthusiastic sound.

"Like the idea of that, huh? My baby girl being Mark's fuck toy..." Mingi mouthed against your thigh before giving it a teasing bite. "Let him fuck you when I'm on tour. When I'm away for too long, and you just need to get your hole pounded good. Don't worry. He'd make it nice and satisfying for you."

Mark laughed breathlessly as he watched your face closely. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?" he asked, sounding a bit ragged, though a smug glimmer of a smile came over him. You realized you'd stopped bobbing your head entirely, hypnotized by Mingi's filth and Mark's pretty face. "Mingi did say that I'm your favorite."

You groaned in assent. He was. Right up next to your own boyfriend, of course.

Mark gave a small grunt and a "Fuck," pushing back deeper, hitting the back of your throat. You moaned appreciatively, trying to focus on the task at hand.

"Yeah... Fuck it, I bet you would," Mark growled before turning to face the man currently eating you out, "Maybe it's not such a terrible idea, Mingi... if it means I can tap her any time you're busy."

Mingi looked up at you, a twinkle of mischief dancing in his dark gaze, "What do you think babe? Mark and I can be friends, and you can get all the cock you want. Any time, anywhere..."

His words ignited something deep within you, the fire spreading to the very tips of your fingers and toes. You wanted nothing more than to see Mingi with a friend sharing you. Letting someone else pound into the tight sheath of your sopping cunt or squeeze into the round mounds of your perky tits while your boyfriend watched. Fuck, you could hardly stand it. A soft mewl escaped your lips around Mark's dick as you pressed yourself harder into your boyfriend's mouth, desperate to reach your peak.

"Yes, honey," he said firmly, clearly catching your mood. "Show Mark here how bad you want him to fuck you. How bad you want him in your pussy and how much you'll beg for him. Use your mouth, beautiful. Let him know he's welcome."

Mark cursed again as you worked him more intensely, sliding your tongue along his length. Mingi had returned to your pussy, fucking into you with his skilled fingers while devouring you like a gourmet dessert. His tongue flicked and prodded expertly, applying just the right amount of pressure at the right angles. Combined with the images swirling through your head, his skilled touches had you moaning wildly as your body tensed and quivered in warning.

"Just... Just a little more," Mark pleaded, his hips jerking forward as you swallowed around him, urging his cock to sink into your throat. You loved the sound and the feeling of him begging for release. His free hand roved over your bare breasts as he stroked your nipples with feather-light circles and pinched hard as they stiffened beneath his fingertips. "Yes. Shit... Fuck."

All at once, Mark was spilling down your throat, his essence spattering the back of it. You took him greedily, swallowing as you kept him firmly pinned with your mouth, never allowing a single drop to slip past your lips. When his hold finally slackened, you released him from your mouth with an audible pop. Mingi also backed off at the same moment. As the idol stepped aside, you couldn't help but admire his flushed face, panting chest, and loose body. You glanced at your boyfriend, wanting to bask in the fruits of their collaboration. He gave you a wink, then moved a stray lock of hair away from your forehead.

"Told you she was amazing," Mingi beamed at his idol friend.

Mark huffed a soft, amazed laugh, still catching his breath, "Sure didn't lie..." Then, his gaze dipped to your dripping sex, and you could practically sense how badly he wanted to be inside you. Maybe even just as badly as Mingi sometimes. "Mind if I..."

"Don't ask me," Mingi smirked. "Ask her."

Both men were looking at you, waiting for an answer. You wanted them both. You wanted Mark buried in you with Mingi whispering sweet filth into your ears, praising you, guiding you. The very thought was enough to have a pulse of heat coursing through you, and you couldn't stop yourself from moaning. You bit your lip and gazed at the idol, eager to have him. "Show me how good you are. Come fill me with your cock and show me how you'll fuck me good, Mark."

"See what I told you?" Mingi drawled with satisfaction. "Fucking eager."

A part of you was worried that he might feel left out, but your boyfriend had never been selfish, not once. In fact, he looked nothing but happy and turned on as he moved back to let Mark get closer to you. The rapper kicked off his jeans the rest of the way before shoving down his boxers, too impatient and excited. You felt a thrill run through you, and your breathing quickened. 

It wasn't Mingi, but it was a fucking NCT member about to rail you.

You straddled Mark's lap and leaned forward, reaching between your bodies to grip the base of his dick. Mark exhaled sharply as you sank down, a whimper leaving your own lips when he filled you, the head nudging at the furthest part of your velvety walls. He paused, leaning his head back on the armrest, giving himself a second to get used to how your wet cunt wrapped so tightly around him.

"Move for me, beautiful," Mingi's low whisper encouraged, close to your ear. "Show Mark how well you can take cock."

You whined softly in agreement and rocked yourself forward. Mark's eyes fell shut, his brows furrowing, but his lips parted as a faint gasp tumbled out. He looked so damn beautiful like that, laid beneath you, enjoying himself as you rode him slowly.

"Oh fuck... shit, shit, shit," Mark panted, his hips rolling upward. "Damn, this pussy is unreal..."

"Isn't it?" You heard your boyfriend speak from your left. You blinked open your eyes that had closed without your notice and saw him sitting there next to Mark, gripping his own hard, flushed length. Just the sight of Mingi's dick, so close yet out of reach, was driving you insane with need, despite the cock in you already doing a good job of making you moan. "Make our guest feel welcome, baby, okay? Give him a reason to come back for more."

"Do you want me to come back for more?" Mark whispered up at you as his slender fingers gripped at your soft hips.

Your cunt throbbed at the sound of his voice, rough yet tender as it rang in your ears.

"Do you want him to?" Mingi asked, knowing well enough what the answer would be.

Mark's hands were sliding up to grope your breasts, and he moaned in time with you as he rocked up hard. "Fuck, answer," he groaned out, pleading. "Tell me what you want me to do."

"Yes," you hissed as the idol drove deep inside you and one of Mingi's hands reached around you to tease at your swollen clit. "I want it, I want your cock. Please... please come back for more of this pussy."

The rapper growled with satisfaction at your shameless begging. "Good girl," he murmured, drawing a shudder out of you. "As long as you keep being a good girl. Now go ahead... fucking ride me."

His eyes darted sideways and found your boyfriend's dark orbs, and an unreadable, silent agreement passed between the men. You couldn't guess what it was, too focused on riding Mark's cock to its fullest extent, wanting him to spill within you. His grip tightened on your soft curves, urging you forward onto him again, and you picked up the pace eagerly. Your fingers tangled in the NCT rapper's hair, yanking him towards you, and his hands cupped your breasts. His hot mouth latched onto your nipples, flicking and sucking greedily.

This was different from the Mark you knew from watching stage performances, MVs, or interviews. This Mark, the one currently railing you, was a carnal beast in his lust. One whose desire was purely focused on pleasure, whether he was receiving or giving.

"Does his cock fill you good, baby?" Mingi murmured, his hand pumping up and down his own throbbing cock. "You like the way Mark feels inside you? Stretching out your pretty cunt?"

"Yes," you hissed through gritted teeth. "Fuck, yes... it feels so good."

"I can tell, baby. I can see from over here how fucking happy he's making you. Fucking you real good, making you feel special. My baby girl looks so good fucking herself silly like this." He leaned over the armrest to speak directly into your ear, "Make him cum, baby. Cum all over his cock, and I'll give you my dick after. We both will, okay? You can take both of us at the same time. Wouldn't that be fun? Double the cocks?"

Your eyelids slammed shut, the mental picture of both cocks filling you up at the same time taking up your thoughts. With your boyfriend at your ass and Mark in your front hole... Shit, you could hardly stand the idea of such pleasure. It was sure to send you over the edge.

"Y-Yes," you begged. "Please, I want it. Please let me have both cocks."

"Mmm, baby... Don't worry," your boyfriend hummed as his lips trailed up your ear and sucked briefly. He leaned back, but his mouth lingered inches away. You could feel his heavy breaths mingling with yours as he moved to stand behind you, looming there with the tip of his cock against your ass. "You'll have both, promise."

With that, Mingi nudged your asscheeks apart and prodded lightly, demanding entry. You almost choked. Almost screamed. Fuck, your asshole was throbbing and gaping, needing him inside. In an instant, you realized that was probably part of his plan all along—working you and teasing you until he got what he wanted: both holes fucked at once by the two hottest guys on the planet. Not a bad outcome at all.

"You ready to get fucked hard, baby girl?" Your boyfriend murmured, and you nodded wildly, practically drooling with the mere idea. His thumb slipped past the tight ring, the digit diving deep and stroking over the warm muscles, making you shudder. "That's right," Mingi crooned at the needy moan that slipped past your lips. "Let the whole city know how badly you need both dicks."

It's not like you’d never had anal sex with Mingi before, but you’d never had it with anyone else involved, and certainly not in this fashion. Your legs clenched tighter around Mark's lean body, and you clung to his shoulders as Mingi lined up his cock, sinking the head inside slowly. You let out a broken sound, pleasure flooding through you with every inch your boyfriend pressed forward. Mark made an approving noise, pulling you closer, the shift pushing him further within you, and your eyes rolled into the back of your head as the thickness of their cocks stretched you apart.

"Fuck...!" You groaned out, thighs shaking around Mark. There was an exquisite pressure in your core. Just the tipping point you needed to fall over.

Mingi waited only a short moment once he was balls-deep. "Goddamn baby," he groaned against the shell of your ear, nipping gently, sending a small shiver down your spine, "look how well you're taking us, you feel so fucking tight. Is that good, baby girl? Can you handle all this dick? Does it feel like you imagined it would?"

He pulled out slow, rocking back, the ridges of his cock bumping pleasantly, and he rolled his hips with it. The resulting tremor that rippled across your skin was immediate, a frisson of electricity lighting a fuse deep in your belly.

"Uh, huh," you whimpered, words becoming difficult, as you adjusted to having both of them at once. Mark ground upwards into your tight, dripping cunt, and you heard his soft, surprised gasp, "S-so good."

"Shit..." Mingi let a hand skate lightly across the bottom swell of your ass cheeks as his hips pistoned his dick deep within you. "Feels fucking amazing for me too, gorgeous. Taking us so well, so good..."

The sensations you felt were beyond bliss, both of their dicks slipping in and out of you with delicious friction. You cried out, relishing the feeling of getting fucked from both ends at once, stretched around these gorgeous men. It was unlike anything you'd ever imagined or experienced, and the best part was you'd never forget this moment. Mingi and Mark seemed to work in perfect harmony, one thrusting forward as the other drew back, the pulsing sensations pushing you toward the brink of oblivion. You could no longer speak as each stroke pushed air from your lungs and arousal seared through your veins.

Mark leaned his forehead against yours. Your nose grazed his in the process, and you saw how his lips twisted. His jaw dropped in a guttural, quiet moan that made your cunt throb, and your muscles clenched tighter around the idol. "So... good," he gasped as your cunt squeezed.

"Tell him how much you like this," Mingi purred into your ear as his cock pulled free. A thrill rushed through you at the dirty talk your boyfriend loved to indulge in so often. It always drove you crazy. "Tell Mark how much you like him fucking your cunt raw."

You took a slow breath, letting your lids lift lazily to meet the idol's gaze. You tried to push the word from your lips but all that escaped were needy moans. "F-feels... ah..." you could barely even speak; you were losing your damn mind from the mind-boggling sensation of these cocks.

Mark laughed darkly, and a slight grin tugged at the corner of his lip, a knowing one. It was obvious enough you didn't have to explain it, even with the way your thighs twitched or how you shivered violently as their thick dicks slammed into you again. Mingi groaned from the other end, and you felt his lips pepper your bare shoulders. "Should we let her cum? Hm, Mark?"

"I don't know," Mark said smugly as he pulled out again. His hips lunged forward, and the impact reverberated through you, ripping a keening moan out of your throat. "That's a hard question."

"Please, please let me..." you begged, writhing uncontrollably. "I'll be a good girl. I p-promise."

The men groaned almost in unison, the sound tinged with pleasure and arousal. "Keep talking like that," Mark coaxed you. "I'm this fucking close to bursting already."

"Yeah, don't fucking stop," Mingi groaned his assent. "It's like music to my fucking ears, sweetie."

You nodded helplessly, opening your mouth as you begged shamelessly, not holding back. "I'll take your fucking cocks as many times as you want," you whined. "Over and over, forever."

"Goddamn, she's perfect," you heard Mark grit out through gritted teeth.

The groan your boyfriend let out was all heat. His fingers dug into the flesh of your hips as he ploughed his cock into you, using the strength of his hands to slam you down just as he pushed forward, each thrust almost unbearably overwhelming. "Then cum," he said, his voice almost a growl. "Be a good girl and fucking cum for us."

"Dirty little thing," Mark breathed against your parted mouth, his tongue darting out to tease your own. "Letting me and Mingi have our way with you like this... You're enjoying every minute of this, aren't you, beautiful?"

"Please... please I want to cum..." your body was writhing from the force of them. Mingi's fingertips were digging hard into your ass as he pummeled you with his massive cock while Mark was playing with your nipples. It all drove you insane, and the knot in your stomach was tighter than a fucking ball.

"Go ahead, baby," Mingi rasped in a voice thick with pleasure. You looked over your shoulder and met his fiery gaze as he said, "Cum nice and loud. I wanna hear all your pretty sounds."

Mark dropped one hand from your nipple, and his palm connected with your throbbing clit and began to massage with firm, quick circles. Your lashes fluttered, a quiet sigh escaping as your lids threatened to shut altogether. The pressure built in the base of your abdomen. In seconds, you were cumming.

The wave of ecstasy came in one sudden, powerful pulse after another. You wailed out, loud enough that they surely heard the echo throughout the apartment. Your body writhed and quaked, shuddering with the force of an intense, prolonged orgasm. Your cunt throbbed spasmodically, muscles squeezing tightly around Mark's length.

"God, look how that fucking pussy's squeezing him," Mingi drawled as he rubbed your clit, adding to the intensity of the stimulation. "She's loving this cock..."

Mark cursed sharply, his breathing picking up speed as he worked your clit mercilessly. He continued to pump upwards into your cunt, trying desperately to match his thrusts with Mingi's. "She’s going to squeeze all the cum right out of me, fuck." He groaned.

"Fuck..." you let out a filthy whine, your walls clenching tightly as the waves of pleasure overwhelmed you and had your brain completely blank, your mouth hanging open, trying to keep your breath steady as they were working you apart. "Fuck... I'm still cumming."

"Keep cumming, baby girl," your boyfriend said breathlessly, and you knew it wouldn't take him long to finish, since he loved watching your climax. His cock drove harder and faster than before, "Fuck, I'm about to cum in your fucking tight ass."

Mark shuddered out a groan beneath you, and his brows tensed. "Fuck," the idol hissed, and his pace began to pick up. "Fuck, I'm close too, where can I..." he stammered. "Where should I... god, shit..."

"Cum in me, Mark. Fucking cum in my pussy," you begged between hisses and panting breaths, looking between him and your boyfriend.

"Mmm, listen to my girl..." Mingi mumbled out against the back of your neck and bit lightly, earning another tremble, and his voice picked up and he started going faster, hitting deeper, "You heard her, cum in that fucking cunt."

Mark moaned, loud and long, his cock pulsing before he shot his seed deep, filling your spasming walls. Mingi groaned, grinding himself into you and spurting as well, his thrusts erratic and uneven as he filled your ass with a shudder. Mark's hand slid over the front of your cunt, holding his throbbing dick in place while his digits coated in cum smeared over your tender pussy lips.

"So perfect, sweetheart," Mingi murmured. Mark pulled himself free as your boyfriend slid back, groaning softly as his cock left your heat. His semen slipped from inside and dripped onto the couch beneath you.

"Holy shit," you heard Mark mumble dazedly as you sank weakly into his chest.

"Told you she was the fucking best," Mingi praised you as he moved to sit on the couch and chuckled softly, a grin lighting up his lips. "You're welcome."

"I believe it," Mark breathed, the words leaving him in one rush. He reached around you and patted you softly. "Holy shit," he repeated. "This was just... it's something else. Thank you."

"If you want something more..." your boyfriend started to offer, and the words were clear to Mark, his eyes meeting Mingi's gaze with a smirk.

Mark's answer was a faint grin. "For real, man? I mean, I won't say no... I mean I am working on an album soon... could use some inspiration."

"What do you think, baby?" Mingi smiled at you, one hand gripping your shoulder as the other caressed your side soothingly. "You want Mark to be a regular thing? So he can make albums inspired by you? Take his creativity to the next level?"

You didn't even hesitate to give an eager nod, and Mingi kissed your temple.

"Great," your boyfriend smirked at the idol, "It's settled then. And now, sweetie..." his expression softened, "Let's take this to the bedroom... you, me, and Mark are just getting started."

[daddywright]

Hello everybody!! happy apollo justice launch week! it’s been like, two years since i’ve written straight-up narumitsu and i’m ON this shit, babey, let’s fucking go! this is a sequel to a fic i wrote like, three years ago (?!) and i can’t even apologize because i wrote this just like that one (in less then twenty four hours without a beta, completely deranged.)

this is also to celebrate this blog passing the 2,000 followers mark sometime recently! holy shit. thanks so much for all the comments and love over the years. this fandom is basically my home now. i travel, but i always come back.

Work Summary:

"Even if he doubts, sometimes, he reasons, because he would be a hypocrite to hope that Phoenix was inhumanly resilient, he knows at least that I would never let him go.

The notion seizes hold of him in a rictus, electrifying his limbs. He does, doesn’t he? Even the glimmer of idea that Miles would, could cast him aside is preposterous. Surely not. Surely.

Yes. Of course."

[An interim prosecutor runs his mouth. Miles realizes it's not the first time.]

[cromernet]

→ NEW RELEASE: BIRDS OF PREY — two by @sungbeam

Feedback: we shall never speak of the noise i made while and after reading this, pls. For the sake of my nonexistend image. Yn being thrown into an unadked emotional rollercoaster over and over had me on the edge all the way through

BIRDS OF PREY — three

nonidol!kim hongjoong x f!reader

living in gray areas of your city, out of the way of gangs and mafia territories, could only keep you safe for so long. it was only a matter of time before you began running into problems, or rather, problems began running into you.

▷ genre, warnings. nc-17, strangers 2 lovers, slow burn, mafia au, angst?, swearing, action, mentions of alcohol, murder and a dead body, mentions of weaponry, arson/nearly burning alive, mentions of blacklisting

▷ word count. 4.8k

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CHAPTER THREE: TRIBUTE TO THE PIRATE KING

YOU HAD NO CHOICE but to watch the clock, jumping at every phone ringtone, eyes checking the exits and searching the crowd for a particular familiar face. As you continued to work, you couldn't shake the feeling of someone watching you ever since you came back in from the phone call in the alleyway. 

But as the night progressed into the early dredges of the morning, nothing happened. 

You didn't know what time it was until your coworkers were kicking out the drunkards lingering on their stools and you were wiping down the front bar countertop with a wet rag. Your heart rate had calmed down considerably after letting the phone call and the hallway conversation slip from your mind. Nothing had happened during your shift; everyone was going to make it out alright. 

As for Hongjoong… you neither saw him nor heard from him. You wondered what they ended up doing, if he was okay or not. 

“Yn, we're locking up!” 

You brushed a hand through your hair as you tossed the rag into the dirty bin beneath the counter. “Yeah, I'm coming.” 

As you were just about to duck into the back kitchen where your coworkers were waiting, you felt a hand clamp down onto your shoulder. Every nerve in your body jolted, every muscle yanked taut. Your breath hitched as you turned to see who it was. 

You didn't recognize the man standing there and you tried to reign in the panic filling you. There was something about him that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up straight. He was rather tall and lanky, not like a skyscraper, but enough to make you tilt your head up slightly to look him in the eyes. He wore a pair of glasses that, when the light hit them a specific way, had a distinct glare on the lenses that made you shiver. 

“I'm sorry, can I help you?” you asked, not-so-subtly shifting so his hand would fall away from your shoulder. 

“Aren't you forgetting something, Yn?” he asked. 

That voice. This—he was the Mr. Young your boss was speaking to earlier. 

You staunched the tremble in your fingers by shoving them into your armpits. It would look more like being standoffish than nervous. “I don't think so,” you said. “The bar is closed to guests, though, so if you'd please—”

“Mica says you have a delivery slip for Ms. Iwazaki. She never received it.”

“Oh.” Swiftly, you dug your hand into the pocket of your apron and passed it over to him. “Must have slipped my mind,” you admitted sheepishly, stepping back toward the kitchen. 

He passed a small glance over the receipt contents before pocketing it. “Ah yes, when you stepped out to make that call, no?”

The blood drained out of your face. 

“I don't particularly appreciate eavesdroppers,” he drawled, taking measured steps toward you. 

“Then you're a hypocrite.”

He chuckled, the sound grating against your bones. “I've been called far worse than a hypocrite, Yn.”

You swallowed. “My coworkers are waiting,” you managed to say, steeling your nerves. 

“Ah, but of course.” He gestured to the door behind you with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. “Have a nice night.”

You said nothing else as you slipped through the door and practically ran to grab your things. When you met your coworkers at the back door, they grumbled something about you taking too long. You brushed away their complaints; they were all exhausted like you were, but you were more shaken than worried about appeasing them. 

In all your hurrying, you hadn't noticed your phone was no longer with you. As you sat in one corner of the near empty subway car, you patted down your pockets and rifled through your bag, but came up empty-handed. That spike of panic pierced through your chest again, but this time for another reason. 

“Fucking hell,” you swore, storming out of the car at the next stop to take the line back to the bar. 

In the ungodly hours of the morning, you kept your senses dialed as far as they could go with your feet moving swiftly. You prayed that your boss was still in her office, and that Mr. Young wasn't. A shiver slipped down your spine at the phantom feeling of his hand on your shoulder. 

You came up to the back alleyway door as a chilly breeze swept by. From your bag, you fished out your ring of keys all attached to an old lanyard. Though you didn't usually find yourself using them often, your boss had given you a copy of the keys to the bar in case you were the person who was sent to open or close for the night. Again, you didn't find much use for them, but now seemed like a pretty damn good time. 

You let yourself into the kitchen, the entire building swamped in darkness. Ms. Iwazaki likely would have let herself out through the door in her office, so you were probably the only person here. 

A breath of relief escaped your lips when you went over to your locker and found that you had left your phone just sitting there. Cursing yourself for being scatterbrained, you checked for notifications, then pocketed the device to head out. 

You halted. 

There was a sound of shuffling coming from further within the building. It was something like rustling paper…

Your heart began thumping against your ribcage. “Hello?” you voiced into the quiet. “Ms. Iwazaki, is that you?”

The noises stopped. 

It was an experience straight out of a horror film; you could hear an echo in your ear of someone yelling at you to not go into the hallway (or maybe that was your conscience screeching). But there shouldn't have been anyone else here, and based on what had been happening lately, maybe you should be running the other way. 

But you poked your head into the back hallway anyway. To your surprise, you saw a sliver of light seeping out from under your boss's closed door. 

Huh, she was still here then. 

Should you confront her about the conversation you overheard earlier? You wondered how close she was to Kim Hongjoong if Mr. Young was relying on her to somehow summon him here. 

Just when you made up your mind, you heard a rattling at the alleyway door before it opened behind you. 

You froze, a deer in headlights, as you made eye contact with two newcomers. Your eyes widened just as surprise flickered across their faces. 

“Hongjoong?” you whispered as the man behind him closed the door. Narrowing your eyes, you scrutinized the second man with him. You'd seen him before, but where? “What're you doing here?”

Hongjoong's brows furrowed as he took cautious steps toward you, as if placating a frightened lion. The both of them were clad in dark colors, easy to blend in with the night. “This is Jongho; he's a good friend of mine,” he said, gesturing to the broad-shouldered brunet behind him. “And we're here because of the call.”

“I told you not to come—”

“No, not that one. The one we just had fifteen minutes ago.”

A beat. “What call fifteen minutes ago? I didn't call you.”

He and Jongho exchanged confused glances before he addressed you again, “No, we called you. But when you picked up, the line was silent and then you hung up. We were afraid something happened to you, so we came as soon as we could.”

“I forgot my phone here when we were locking up.” You raised the device in your hand as a slow epiphany dawned on you. “I didn't have it for the past twenty minutes.”

Jongho stepped forward with his mouth pressed into a grave line. “We should get out of here,” he said. “This obviously was a trap, like she warned us earlier.”

“Wait, did Ms. Iwazaki ever call you?” you asked. 

Hongjoong shook his head. “No. We were waiting for her to request I come over after you called ahead, but the call never came. We assumed that whatever it was had been called off.”

Interesting… had it been called off because Mr. Young knew you'd overheard him and went to warn Hongjoong? 

“Well, uh,” you stepped aside to gesture vaguely in the direction of the back hallway, “I'm pretty sure she's still here. Her light's on, and I heard noises coming from the office.”

“Noises?” 

Before Hongjoong could go forward, Jongho placed a hand on his shoulder, murmuring something to him. Then, he took the first steps into the hallway, as if checking for any triggers and ensuring the path forward was safe. 

Hongjoong inclined his chin to you, silently prompting you to come along with him as he followed after his friend. 

When Jongho reached the office door, he rapped his knuckles gently against the surface. “Ms. Iwazaki, are you in there?” he asked, then paused for a beat, and another… “Ms. Iwa—oh.” He tried the doorknob, and it gave way near immediately. 

The door drifted open slowly and poured warm light into the hallway. You, Hongjoong, and Jongho peered into the office, and the sight that greeted you forced you backward, stumbling. 

“Oh my god,” you choked, your hand fumbling for something to brace against. 

An arm wrapped around your waist to anchor you upright. You grappled onto their shoulders—Hongjoong’s shoulders—as you fought the urge to double over. 

Dead. Ms. Iwazaki was dead. 

She sat upright in her desk chair, slightly reclined, with her hands lying on either of her armrests and a bullet hole between her eyes. 

Jongho loosened a low curse from his mouth as he stepped inside; Hongjoong kept you standing and didn't move, but you didn't need to see his face to know that he was troubled. You pressed your mouth numbly against the fabric of his bomber jacket, eyes unable to unsee the utter nothingness in your former boss's stare. 

“She's definitely gone,” Jongho murmured. He glanced up, making eye contact with his captain. “What do we do now?”

“We should find out who did this and what they were after.”

You drew your head up from Hongjoong's shoulder, but as you pulled away, his arm seemed reluctant to let you go until you took a physical step back. “I have an idea,” you said quietly, turning to face the room, but avoiding Iwazaki Rina's body. 

“I overheard a conversation,” you explained, stepping into the room and scanning the slips of paper on the desk. The one delivery slip you'd passed along to Mr. Young earlier was among those in the pile. He'd been here again then. “There was this Mr. Young guy—he knew Ms. Iwazaki was paying dues to the Captain, and he offered that if she switched her loyalties, he would give her ownership over the Shipwreck.”

You heard Hongjoong come further into the office to stand beside you, eyes half skimming over the contents of the receipt and half glancing over at you. “Did he say anything else?” he asked.

“He said that if she didn't call you to the bar, he would burn this place to the ground with everyone in it,” you told them. “That was when I ran out of the hallway, but I think he knew I was the one who eavesdropped, because later on, he confronted me about making a phone call in the alleyway.”

“Yn,” Hongjoong said, making you draw your gaze over to him, “do you remember what he looks like? Any physical descriptors can help.”

Did you? You could probably remember enough to sketch the man; his ickiness was ingrained into the place he'd touched your shoulder. “He was—”

Your words were cut off by the unmistakable sound of glass shattering. In your line of work, that sound was like nails on a chalkboard. Drunk people were a handful. 

But if there was glass breaking, then that could only mean that a bottle had been smashed. Someone else was in the building. 

“Stay here,” was Hongjoong's command as he poked his head out into the hallway. “It smells like alcohol.”

“Well, we are in a bar, hyung,” Jongho drawled sarcastically. 

You held in your snort; Hongjoong threw an unamused glare over his shoulder. 

“No, I mean it's incredibly strong—concentrated. Maybe a bottle fell down or—holy fucking shit.” Hongjoong and the entire hallway illuminated in a brilliant orange glow as a stream of alcohol across the floor was set ablaze. 

He leapt back into the safety of the office as you and Jongho scrambled to see what happened. Your jaw unhinged in horror at the sight of the entire corridor up in flames. It roared and clawed up the walls like vines, eating away at the cheap wood and varnish. Whoever had set this fire knew what they were doing—the flames blocked any path of getting back out through the alleyway. 

You were trapped on this side of the building, and you would burn down with it if you didn't think fast. 

“The door!” you exclaimed, lungs beginning to fill with smoke from the fire. You stuck your face into your elbow as you coughed, stumbling over to where Jongho was scrambling toward the office door on the other side. 

Hongjoong raised the collar of his shirt up over his mouth and came over to join you two. 

Jongho tried the door handle, growling as it merely rattled mockingly. “It's locked.”

“How could it be locked?” Hongjoong asked through coughs. 

“Someone could have locked it—” you hacked out half a lung into your elbow, “—from the outside, maybe?”

“This place is filled with flammable shit,” Hongjoong grumbled as he scanned the room for something, anything, that could be of use. There was no fire extinguisher in the room—that had to be a building code violation, but it was a little late now to be thinking of that. 

The fire did not need an invitation to encroach on your space. 

Hongjoong took his phone out from his pocket and tossed it to you. “Call Yunho.”

You gawked at him, the phone lying in your palms. “Okay?” You began scrolling through his contacts, searching for this Yunho person. 

“On three, Jongho—one, two, three!” When you glanced up, Hongjoong and Jongho simultaneously rammed their shoulders into the door in an attempt to knock it down with brute force.  

Your fingers shook as you swiped the contact name “Yunho” and waited for the call to go through. Whoever was on the other side picked up immediately. 

“Hyung, what's—”

“You're on speaker!” you shouted into the phone. “Also—THE BUILDING IS ON FIRE.”

“What?” Panicked shuffling came from the other side. 

Sweat dripped down all three of your faces, and Hongjoong quite literally tore the collar of his shirt open because of the heat. “Yunho, come to the north side of the building and for god's sake, get Mingi to call the fucking fire department!”

Mingi? You would address that later. 

“Aye, Ca—uhhh, I mean, yeah. We're on our way.”

You kept them on the line as Hongjoong and Jongho threw their bodies against the door once more. The wood rattled on its hinges but the damned thing would not move. 

With the fire creeping into the office, you had no choice but to get behind the desk, as far away from the corridor as possible. Your eyes stung from the ash, and you couldn't tell if the feeling of your chest constricting was because you just saw your boss's dead body again or if it was from all the smoke. (Or, the prospect of dying. Either way, it was not a good time.)

“We found the door and the fire department is on its way,” reported Yunho from the other end. Why did his voice sound familiar too?

You could hear him from the opposite side of the door. “Can you unlock it?” you raised your voice, hoping he didn't need the phone to hear you. 

“The metal doorknob is too hot!” he shouted through the door. “Wait! Stand back—we’re shooting the lock.”

Your eyes nearly bulged from your head. “You're going to what—?”

Hongjoong shoved you further away from the door as he and Jongho gave the emergency exit a wide berth. “Hurry!”

A loud bang went off, and moments later, the door fell like timber. A pair of tall, very familiar men stood on the other side, having just rammed the door down with their own bodies. You, Jongho, and Hongjoong wasted no time hustling out of the office. 

You greedily sucked in the cool night air, and collapsed to the cold concrete sidewalk to get your skin to cool down. No doubt, you smelled akin to a dingy casino now. 

Someone came by and helped you to your feet. You glanced up, and Mingi's small smile greeted you. “Long time, no see,” he said. 

“How do you know—”

“They’re all old friends,” Hongjoong said, taking his phone back from you. All of your clothes were soaked through with sweat, and your faces were illuminated with the raging fire from within the bar. “And they work for me.”

“You mean—” You cut yourself off, taking unsubtle steps away from the group of men to put space between you and them. “Nevermind, I don't wanna know.”

Sirens pierced through the air to accompany the smoke drifting up into the atmosphere. Without all the smoke in your system, your head was finally clearing up. “I think—I need to go home. I'm going home now.”

“It's not safe; let one of us drive you.” 

You narrowly dodged Mingi's hand that grazed against your elbow. “No,” you said firmly, your voice wavering. You almost died tonight. “I need—” you stammered, stumbling backwards away from them and back toward the metro, “—just stay away from me.”

As you began walking in the direction of the back alleyway, Hongjoong placed a hand on Mingi's arm. “Let her go,” he said. They had no choice but to let you. 

In the morning, you stared intently at the television screen in your apartment, a news anchor's voice playing at a soft volume as she reported on the city's most recent tragedy. There was a burning building pictured on screen, one that you had grown accustomed to over the past year or so of working there. 

It had taken you one long and hot shower, way too much soap, and a couple spritzes of perfume to get the smoke smell out of your skin and hair; but nothing could get the nightmare of Iwazaki Rina's dead eyes out of your head. 

“Maybe we should get away for awhile.” This was a quiet suggestion from Ryujin as she came by and handed you a warm bowl of soup. She had found you in this same spot on the couch at around seven in the morning. You hadn't slept all night. 

You mumbled out a small “thank you” and brought the rim of the bowl up to your lips. 

“The fire department reports that the fire could have started by accident. A bottle or two of alcohol must have fallen from a shelf, and a leftover cigarette butt was there to light the liquid and start the fire. However, authorities found the owner of the establishment shot dead in her office, which would give the fire a more sinister purpose—more on this in a minute.”

Ryujin let out a pained exhale and she wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “I'm sorry, Yn.”

You didn't know what to say. You almost died a few hours ago. 

“—did find something among the debris.—” 

The screen changed to show a different picture. There was a piece of paper, grayed by soot and ash, but with words reading as clear as day: Tribute to the Pirate King. 

You were out of a job. You were almost baked alive. You saw a dead person for the first time, a murder victim. 

The latter two were things that could only be remedied and dealt with by time and perhaps a mental health professional. The very first one was at the top of your priority list. While you and Ryujin had money stashed away for rainy days like being suddenly out of a job, it wouldn't be enough to hold you up for more than a couple weeks. Even with Ryujin's steady secretary job, it wasn't going to be enough. 

You had no choice but to furiously job hunt and shove all of the crazy shit that happened in the past week behind you. For whatever reason, the universe seemed inclined to put you in the face of danger whenever it came to Kim Hongjoong; it meant that you needed to avoid him like your life depended on it. Because it did. (But it wasn't like you could help bumping into him. Most of the time, it was all by chance.)

Day after day, you applied to job after job. They were all openings to cafés and other bars and retail shops in gray areas around the city, but with each one, you were met with utter rejection every time. 

When you got in touch with former coworkers, they recommended you to the places they recently got hired at themselves, but even that didn't help. Were you suddenly underqualified for all these places? It simply didn't make sense as to why they refused to hire you. 

You voiced your frustrations out to Ryujin, who sat with you on the couch for the second week in a row trying to help you job hunt. “I just don't understand it,” you groaned into your hands. The stress was slowly eating away at you. 

“I know,” she sympathized. “I just don't understand what these wackos want from you. I think it's ridiculous.”

“Maybe I'm blacklisted,” you jested half-heartedly. Maybe I'm delusional! 

Ryujin pressed her lips together and moved her laptop out of her lap and onto the coffee table. “I'm gonna make myself ramen. You want some?”

You sighed, leaning your cheek against your fist. “No, that's okay. I think I'm gonna go to bed.” It was nearing two in the morning at this point, and you were too tired for any more of this failure. Plus, you had to wake up to go to class tomorrow (today). 

“Oh, okay.” Ryujin came by to place a soft pat on your head. “Good night, Yn. It's gonna be alright, okay? We'll figure this out.”

You replied with a quiet, unmotivated, “Yeah,” and slipped into your bedroom with your laptop. 

With the bedroom door shut behind you, you padded your way over to your desk to deposit your laptop. You could hear the city's sounds from out of your window—all the sirens, late night chatter, and buildings rattling and thumping. Just outside your bedroom door, you heard the stove crackle to life. 

For a moment, you stood there, uncertain of what to do. You were left abandoned at a crossroads but barred from any of the paths in front of you. It just didn't make sense as to why you suddenly couldn't get any jobs, especially in gray areas where it was near impossible to be blacklisted. Because there was no crooked organization ruling the gray areas besides maybe the government itself, there was no easy way for a nobody like you to be banned from being hired. 

All of the hiring managers gave you similar excuses. It was either that they suddenly weren't hiring anymore, you didn't have a college degree, or you just didn't fit their requirements, period. It didn't make sense. 

You let your frustrations rattle around in your brain, and you opened up the first desk drawer to get out a sticky note when something caught your eye. 

There was the Shipwreck business card, lying on top of everything, waiting. 

You plucked the card up and were tempted to rip it to shreds, but you withheld. It wasn't exactly Kim Hongjoong's fault you were here (actually it partly was, but you felt just a tad guilty for pinning all the blame on him), but… but he did owe you. 

“No,” you murmured. “That's stupid.” To even think about stepping foot in a mafia territory? That spelled danger with a capital “D.” 

But what choice did you have? Didn't he owe you three life debts now? What could someone even get in exchange for three life debts, or whatever wording Hongjoong had used?

You didn't know what you would do once you got there, but you set the business card on top of your laptop lid that night, resolving to make the trek into Hala Town the next day. 

You would do what was necessary. 

The next morning, you piled your materials into your backpack for class, then headed out. Class was thankfully not too long, as this particular professor didn't enjoy stretching out what she had prepared in order to fit the allotted two hour block. By the time it was over, it had yet to hit noon. 

Public transportation didn't usually extend into the mafia territories through the gray areas, other than the metro station. There were taxis and shared riding apps that one could use other than the subway, but no buses or trolleys went past gray area borders. It was just a safety thing. 

You descended into the metro and stared long and hard at the map on the wall to determine which line and which stop you needed to arrive as close as possible to the Shipwreck. The last thing you needed was to walk for a long time out in the open. 

A bundle of nervousness manifested in your stomach and it twisted and churned as you tapped your card against the reader and entered the metro station proper. The closest stop to the Shipwreck was a fifteen minute walk away, located on the edge of the port-side business district. You fisted the business card in your pocket the entire ride there. 

When you emerged out of the metro station, it was in Ateez territory. The air here was different; it tasted like the salty sea breeze, slightly chillier than it was further inland where you usually dwelled. You tightened your jacket around your frame and tucked your chin into your scarf, then began the fifteen minute walk. 

For the most part, Hala Town was as normal as normal could be. People hustled and bustled past and with you, on their way to their differing destinations, wherever their routine took them. There were plenty of people on the streets who didn't pay you any mind, and didn't seem to be fazed by the fact that they lived in the place where the so-called Captain and his crew reigned. Based on what the investigators at the bar found, the person who had set fire to the building was the Captain, or someone associated with him. 

You shuddered at the thought. The Captain had been the one to burn the building down with you and Hongjoong and Jongho in it. But why? Had he found out that Ms. Iwazaki might have betrayed him?

Oh, Ryujin would kill you if she found out you were here. 

The Shipwreck, you discovered, was a literal shipwreck, hollowed out and renovated to ensure it wouldn't sink or drift from shore, and could fit an influx of patrons. You stood on its outside just staring up at its mighty sails and wood finishings. The gangway was several meters down the dock from you, and from what you saw, the opening into the ship's hold was wide open. 

It seemed that even on a weekday morning they were open for business. 

With little else to do at rock bottom, you went up. 

“Hello?” you called out when you reached the top of the gangway and peered into the cavernous mouth of the hold. You swept your eyes over the room to take in all of the roulette and poker tables, the long bar installed on the starboard side of the ship. It smelled like a twinge of alcohol, but the sea spray covered up the rest. Though the lights were dim, you could still make out everything here. 

The playing and gambling tables were on a sublevel, lowered slightly into the floor compared to the level you stood up on now. Leather booths littered the floor above to overlook the sublevel, along with standing tables and a railing to lean over. You could imagine the rowdy, lively nights that this ship saw—if only walls could talk…

“Can I help you?” 

You jolted, eyes darting over to the corner of the bar where a man about your age descended down from a set of spiral stairs. He had a small mole beneath his eye and wore his dark hair tied half back in a ponytail. “Oh uh—”

“If you're lost, the pier is further down that way,” he said, though his eyes turned upward like he was amused or teasing. 

“No, actually.” You slowly made your way across the hold to reach him at the bar. You removed the business card from your pocket and turned it to show the back side as if proving that you belonged here, that you were in the right place. His eyes didn't even flinch in that direction, like he knew exactly what it said and what you were going to ask. 

“I'm here to request parley.”

a/n: pls remember to reblog if you enjoyed!

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[evanbuckleyrecs]

Title: The Dawn Has Come

Written by: Arithese

Rated: M

Catagories: m/m

Warnings: none

Relationships: Buck/Eddie

Tags: Uncover, Poker Scene, Speculation, kind of?, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Kissing, Smut, First Time, Possessive Eddie Diaz, Smitten Evan Buckley, Lightning jokes, Bottom Evan Buckley, Top Eddie Diaz, Orgasm, Bisexual Evan Buckley, Gay Eddir Diaz, Buck is Eddie's Gay Awakening, Thank you Frank, Choking Kink, Anal Sex, Coming Untouched, No beta we die like Buck on a ladder, Episode s06e13: Mixed Feelings, 6x13, Episode s06e13: New Sensations, Poker

Words: 5,540

Summary:

“Eddie what-” Buck starts but he’s interrupted when Eddie grasps his chin, tipping it up to look into his eyes. Buck virtually shrinks down, not out of fear … but something else. Something churning in his stomach and the touch on his chin burns, but not unpleasantly so, it’s comforting yet thrilling.

And then just seconds before the footsteps stop in front of the door, Eddie kisses him.

Or: Buck and Eddie go undercover to prove Bobby's innocence, and they almost get caught.

My notes: I love the wave of undercover fics the speculation for 6x13 gave us, hope there will still be more in the future. This is a perfect example :)

[steddie-fanfic-recs]

Dustin Henderson and the Lovebirds

by pukner

Rating: General Audiences Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington & Dustin Henderson, Dustin Henderson & Eddie Munson, Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington, Minor or Background Relationship(s) Characters: Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Dustin Henderson, Robin Buckley, The Party (Stranger Things) Additional Tags: POV Outsider, 5+1 Things, Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Steve Harrington & Dustin Henderson Friendship, Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson in Love, Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington Are Best Friends, Brotherly Steve Harrington, Soft Eddie Munson, Eddie Munson is Whipped, Dorks in Love, Fluff and Humor, Dungeons & Dragons References, like a lot of them, background ronance and byler Words: 9,748 Chapters: 1/1

Summary

"You look like you've been mauled, dude," says Lucas. Then, after a beat, "Oh, ew." "What the fuck," says Dustin, cottoning on, "What the fuck. This is hell, you didn't." "Oh, I did," says Eddie, with the air of someone who's won something. He looks like the proverbial cat who's got the canary, if the canary wore polos and listened to Blondie. "Shut up," Steve mutters, flushing as he seems to register what's happening, "Guys, it's not what you--uh, this isn't what it looks like--" Or, five times Dustin Henderson was subjected to Eddie Munson being gross and sappy and in love with Steve Harrington, and one time Steve didn't even have to be there.

[imthedr3amer]

📖 Fic rec: SPN, Wincest, Explicit 👀

Rating: Explicit

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: M/M

Fandom: Supernatural

Relationship: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Kevin Tran

Additional Tags: Humor, Established Relationship, Top Sam Winchester, Bottom Dean Winchester [Extra tags by @imthedr3amer: Blow Jobs, Anal Sex]

Language: English

Stats: Published: 2013-11-22 Words: 8,234

All I Want Is to Have My Peace of Mind

(orphaned fic)

Summary: Season 9. Dean thinks Kevin might know about him and Sam. Well, he's not certain, but he's pretty sure. Really pretty sure. At least, he thinks he is.

[This fic may be orphaned, but I believe all effort deserves kudos and a comment. 🫶]

[cromernet]

→ NEW RELEASE: celebrations (extended) by @cheollipop

Feedback: Maybe i shouldn't have read this while at work but oh well, you got me good with this one. Jealous and whiny San? Give him to me! Cocky Woo? A dream! Baby Mingi still being denied? I feel like i'm in heaven

𝙘𝙚𝙡𝙚𝙗𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨 (𝙚𝙭𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙙)

navi | taglist

pairing: woosan x fem!reader x song mingi

w.c.: 6.4k

tags: smut, boyfriends!woosan, implied criminal activities, standalone sequel to heists and celebrations.

rating: mature

Weeks passed and the stolen necklace—your only tie to the museum—had long since been pawned away. And yet buzzed, pink hair continued to haunt your fantasies. Until you remembered: Wooyoung was incapable of denying your requests, no matter how sticky they were.

warnings: semi-public sex, van sex, really fucking filthy sex, voyeurism & exhibitionism, unprotected sex (👎), creampie, fingering (f & m receiving), handjobs, oral (m receiving), deepthroating, dom!wooyoung, switch!san, switch!reader, ??!mingi, he's just happy to be there tbh, lots of mxm between all three of them, so much kissing holy fuck, jealous!san, some begging, restraints, everyone gets a little overstimulated, nicknames, san's a cutie when riled up, and he's got a potty mouth, I think that's it ^^

A/N: this one was a wild ride. I'd recommend grabbing a bucket and a mop, just in case. happy reading~

nsfw under the cut—minors dni!! 🔞

“I’m surprised, (y/n). It’s been how long since that day? You’re usually quick to move on,” Wooyoung said with a smile on his lips, pouring hot water into his mug.

“Woo,” you whined, leaning your upper body over the kitchen island, inhaling the fresh scent of instant coffee wafting from Wooyoung’s direction. “You should’ve seen him. I mean, how many men have you seen rock pink hair, let alone a buzzcut?”

“Have you seen Park Seonghwa?”

“Who?”

“Shame. You know Hongjoong? Anyang Group’s boss?”

“Ah, Seonghwa as in that Hongjoong’s sidepiece?” Wooyoung nodded as he sipped his coffee. “Mm,” you mirrored the movement in agreement, lips curling, “wouldn’t mind seeing more of him.”

“Damn right,” he laughed.

He brushed away the image of a slender frame and plush lips to redirect back to your conversation. “You seriously want this?”

“Can you do it?” Tilting your head sideways, you peered at the man before you with wide, hopeful eyes.

Wooyoung’s eyebrows shot upwards, and he walked around the island to where you were sat on a stool, placing his mug down to cup your nape, his voice raspy as he spoke, “you know better than to ask me that, darling.”

You smiled, snaking your arms underneath Wooyoung’s baggy shirt and around his waist, pulling him closer to press tender kisses over the line of his jaw, moving up to his lips while he leaned down until you were at eye-level and giving him a firm kiss.

Pearly whites peeked at Wooyoung, “then I really want this.”

“And you’ll get it,” he moved your head towards his with the hand at your nape, his nose pressing into your cheek as he kissed you until you ran out of breath, pulling away with a kitten lick to your upper lip.

Fingers scratched lightly at the back of your head, Wooyoung leaning closer once again, this time nuzzling your temples, taking in the scent of your shampoo before exhaling contently. “But,” he started, moving back until he could meet your eyes, “what about San?”

“What about him?” You feigned ignorance.

The corner of Wooyoung’s lips tugged upwards at your darting gaze. “You know how he gets. I can’t imagine he’d be thrilled watching you devour another man.”

You pouted, arms retreating from Wooyoung’s waist to cross at your chest. “He can deal with it.”

Wooyoung chuckled, moving to kiss you again, frowning when you stopped him with a hand to his chest. You spoke before he could question the movement,

“What about you? Or do you not get jealous”

His frown melted away, expression softening as you avoided his gaze, hands immediately seeking yours to guide them over his shoulders. “My love,” he peppered kisses over your cheek. “You know well how I treat bastards who dare touch what’s mine,” he craned his neck to follow your gaze, until his dark irises met yours.  “You’ve seen it, haven’t you?”

You nodded, flashes of gore and spattered red rushed through your mind and your heart warmed at the memory of his dedication, but you weren’t convinced. “Then why—”

Wooyoung interrupted, “but, my darling, since when have you known me to turn down any of your requests?” Wrapping his arms around your waist, he pressed your foreheads together. “While our precious Sannie might want to keep you all for himself, I certainly wouldn’t mind watching you use another man to satisfy a craving,” he moved to brush his lips against the shell of your ear, “especially if he’s as hot as you described.”

You heard San’s ringtone go off, followed by a short exchange of words before his voice echoed through the suite, “jagi, Youngie’s on his way.”

San’s socked feet padded over the carpet when you didn’t reply, stopping at the bathroom doorway to admire your form, leaning over the sink while blinking into your mascara wand. He leaned against the doorframe, watching you move back to examine the drying coat of black for a second before using the tip of the wand to brush over the outer corners of your lashes.

You dropped the tube into your makeup bag and zipped it shut. Meeting San’s gaze through the mirror, you smiled—almost shyly—while smoothing down your dress, its hem resting just below your behind.

“Who are you all dressed up for?” San teased, eyes flitting down to the burgundy colouring your lips.

You turned to face him, smile still stretching your lips as you leaned back against the counter behind you. “Woo said he had a surprise for me before your match tonight.”

He raised an eyebrow, taking a few steps closer, “a surprise? He didn’t mention anything to me.”

You simply shrugged, hoping he’d let it go before the excitement in your eyes betrayed you.

“Ah, I forgot to wash this for you last night,” you shifted the subject, hooking a finger under the hem of San’s singlet, the drops of dried blood staining the collar a memoir of his victory a couple nights ago.

The suspicion in San’s gaze faded, replaced with fondness. His hands reached for yours, balling them in his palms and bringing them to his lips. He pressed a kiss on each of your knuckles, “my perfect girl.”

You frowned; eyes fixed on the flaking blood smirching the white.

San breathed out a laugh, craning his neck to meet your eyes. “I’m serious, my love. It’s okay. It’s gonna get dirty again anyway.”

Seemingly unconvinced, San took your chin between his thumb and pointer and tilted your head upwards. He muttered a breathy “jagi” before his lips crashed over yours—desperate, hungry, wanting. Hands roamed up and down your sides, squeezing at your waist and ass and pulling you impossibly closer to his body. You felt dizzy, arms wrapped around San’s waist and palms splayed over the toned muscle of his back. His breath was hot as it blew over your skin, tongue moving with yours and spit melting the burgundy off your lips.

San’s ringtone sounded in the other room just as strong arms lifted you onto the counter, a disgruntled groan vibrating over your lips before he pulled away to answer, planting a quick peck on your mouth before scurrying out the bathroom.

Giggling to yourself, you slid off the marble to fix the makeup San kissed off you, wiping the product that bled past your lip-line before sliding the applicator over the slightly stained skin.

San showed up at the door once again, hopping on one foot while squeezing the other into his sneakers. “C’mon baby, Youngie’s waiting for us down the street.”

Your eyebrows furrowed as you packed your makeup. “Why not pick us up from here?”

“Fuck if I know,” San sighed, swinging his backpack over his shoulder and grabbing his keycard.

The elevator ride was tense, the other passengers averting their gaze upon noticing San’s unabashed groping, a blank expression on both your faces while his hand disappeared under the back of your dress. You elbowed him when the landing doors opened at ground level, finally letting out an airy laugh as the other guests scurried out with hung heads, a cocky smirk forming on San’s lips.

‘Down the street’ was a much longer walk than originally anticipated, San’s grumbling indictive of his irritation, and yet his hold on your hand remained gentle, fingers tangled with yours and squeezing softly with every few steps he took.

After what felt like hours, you took a sharp left into a dark alleyway—tall buildings on either side blocking the sunlight—vivid graffiti overlapping on the damp walls, mould forming where they met the cracked pavement. The familiar white van appeared as you turned the corner, newly painted to refresh the previously peeling lettering, though the various dents in the metal remained.

Wooyoung stood leaning back against the van with a lit cigarette hanging off his bottom lip. The lit edge burned bright orange as he sucked in a breath, pushing off the cold metal to face the two of you.

“Why’d you fucking make us walk so far?” San spat, swinging his arms outwards for emphasis.

Lidded eyes met yours from a few feet away, and you attempted to maintain the faux irritation furrowing your eyebrows.

“Relax, I didn’t want anyone seeing our special guest,” he smirked, taking another drag of his cigarette. “Even if he came here voluntarily."

San looked as heated as he was confused, “the fuck are you talking about?”

Sensing another series of string of curses coming his way, Wooyoung put his hand up to stop him. “Calm down, kitten. Here, see for yourself.”

He exhaled a final cloud of smoke, dropping the expended tobacco onto the pavement and crushing it with the toe of his boot. He stepped towards the van again, pulling the back handles until the double doors swung open. Faded pink hair peeked at you from the back corner of the small space, longer and less vibrant than you remembered, though his defined features were just as captivating; though, you’d argue the full lips looked far more alluring spread apart by the rag Wooyoung had gagged him with.

Your gaze lowered, checking him out while he sat there, staring back with his wrists tied behind his back. You wondered whether Wooyoung had surprised him while getting ready, eying the top three undone buttons of his white shirt, and those missing from his open vest.

A snicker sounded behind you, “sorry, darling, I couldn’t help but inspect the goods while waiting.”

Your shared laughter snapped San out of his trance, turning to face Wooyoung. “Isn’t this the security guard from the last museum? Wooyoung, what the fuck is this?”

Wooyoung’s calm demeanour only seemed to irritate San further, as did the dry chuckle he gave towards his alarm. “Seems like distracting the dog wasn’t enough for our pretty (y/n), she wanted to take him on a walk.”

San’s eyes widened, his head snapping to your direction only to find the space you’d occupied beside him empty.

Your knees dug into the mattress laid on the floor of the van, the used, stained fabric holding the round indent you’d left behind for a few seconds before returning to its original shape. Crawling towards your target, you realised just how much the pink had faded since you last saw him, roots retouched but his grown-out locks closer to being blonde now. He didn’t seem afraid or confused—and you’d thought Wooyoung was only trying to enrage San by hinting Mingi wanted this encounter to occur. The doe eyes that checked you out in the museum were instead replaced by a sharp gaze drowned in an unknown emotion, something sultry, dangerous. But despite the thoughts churning in Mingi’s mind, the fact remained that he was helpless in his current predicament, tied up and unable to touch the woman he so desperately wanted, the threatening presence of her two partners lingering only a few feet away.

Wooyoung watched you closely, both his and San’s eyes shifting to the exposed, pretty black lace of your panties as you crawled towards the bound man. He could sense San’s jealousy simmering beside him, his eyebrows in a deep furrow and fists clenched at his side.

“Want me to untie him?” Wooyoung poked his tongue out between his teeth as a failed attempt to hide his growing grin, awaiting San’s beratement.

Though, your voice stopped the unkind words at the tip of his tongue.

“Uh-uh,” you turned down his offer, settling on your knees, “no need.”

Turning to face the two men still outside the van, you extended a hand towards San, smiling as the crease between his eyebrows softened and he scurried towards you. Grabbing your reaching hand, he led the open palm up to his mouth and pressed five kisses onto the soft skin, inhaling deeply with each one. You smiled, waiting until he’s had his fill before leading him closer. San’s arms wrapped around your waist, his body attaching to yours like it was second nature: front flush with your back, his face buried into the side of your neck until he could smell nothing but your scent, and a faint hint of your shampoo.

You felt the van dip slightly as Wooyoung climbed into the driver’s seat, the engine sputtering before coming alive. You craned your neck to the side to meet San’s eyes, smile dripping with mischief as you spoke, “just want him to watch for now.”

—

San almost couldn’t keep up, his knees digging into the mattress to keep himself steady, arms around your waist keeping you both upright as you threw yourself onto him, lips hungry and desperate as though you’d been craving his taste for days. Teeth clashed against each other, content hums and breathy moans vibrating in the air between you, your hands squeezing at the exposed muscle of his biceps, moving over his chest and down his abdomen.

Moving a few inches back, you dragged the white tank over San’s head and threw it to the side. “C’mon, Sannie,” you pressed a kiss to his lips, hooking your fingers into his waist belt to tug him closer, “don’t you wanna show our guest how good you can be for me?”

Fingers tangled in the hair at your nape, pulling roughly until your neck craned backwards. San’s voice had a rasp to it, dripping with lust he desperately tried to conceal, “don’t push it.”

The corner of your mouth curled, “that’s not being good,” a choked scoff blowing against San’s face, “maybe Mingi here can do better?”

You twisted your head sideways despite the resistance, meeting Mingi’s wide eyes for merely a second before your gaze was forced forwards once again.

“(Y/n),” his tone dripped with warning.

You swiped a finger over San’s bottom lip, protruding yours slightly to egg him on further. “Sannie,” you purred, smiling at the faint flutter of his lashes upon hearing the pleasant sound. “C’mon, baby, show Mingi how good you make me feel.”

Your eyes locked on Wooyoung’s through the rearview mirror while San manhandled you onto his lap, perhaps a little too calm as his gaze travelled over your bare skin and the thin sheet of sweat reflecting the sunlight peeking through the windshield. Your dress tossed somewhere behind you, back stuck to San’s chest and your legs hooked over his thighs, you could feel a flush creeping up your chest upon noticing your position—sat in San’s lap, spread open and bare while Mingi’s eyes roamed over the expanse of smooth skin.

Two fingers circled your clit, and you sucked in a sharp breath at the sudden touch, exhaling a content sigh when he didn’t waste time sliding them past your pulsing hole. San leaned closer, nuzzling his nose into the junction of your neck as he pumped his fingers slowly.

Sensing the unusual warmth of your skin, a smile stretched his lips. “Oh darling, isn’t it a bit too late to be feeling shy?”

“Shut up,” you moaned, tilting your head to the side to make room for San’s peppered kisses.

Your cunt squelched with every thrust, and you kept your eyes trained on Mingi while it spat slick around San’s fingers. He curled them into your sweet spot, soft ‘ah’s leaving your parted lips as pleasure soared through your body, eyes lidded and head lolling to the side, San’s fingers fucking you open and simultaneously dragging you towards the edge of your release.

“San, Sannie, right there, baby—hnngh, yeah,” his name dripping like honey off your lips.

You grabbed onto his wrist, tight yet not restraining his ministrations, your back arching off his abdomen when his free hand slapped your clit.

“So close already?” San teased into your ear, though his eyes were sharp and contemptuous upon meeting Mingi’s over your shoulder. “I see the audience has got you all worked up.”

His palm landed onto your clit again, and again, content watching your hips jump then fall back onto his lap with each slap.

“Sannie, please,” you panted, hips rolling towards his hands as he played with your cunt, nearly crying out when he pinched your clit between his thumb and pointer, vision blurring when you finally came.

San’s fingers continued pressing your g-spot, languidly to extend your orgasm, his other hand cupping your inner thigh and taking in the tremors shaking your form. His lips found their way back to your neck—blossoming bruises of red and blue scattered over the delicate skin—while his eyes remained on Mingi, as though an unspoken challenge was being communicated between the two men.

Slipping his fingers out from between your clenching walls, San readjusted your position on his lap, moving you sideways so your legs dangled off one of his thighs, an arm around your back holding you upright with your head resting on his shoulder. Mingi watched silently as San leaned down to press a delicate kiss to your lips, checking up on you through whispered questions while massaging the tired muscles of your thighs. It was like he was non-existent, merely a prop in the small bubble enveloping the two of you.

It wasn’t until your tired eyes met his that the bubble popped, and Mingi snapped out of his thoughts. You sat up, your gaze suddenly alert and glimmering with hints of mischief, beginning to crawl towards the man merely a few feet away after San had begrudgingly let you go.

With just a few inches separating your faces, you pulled the wet rag between his lips down to hang around his neck, “did you enjoy that?”

Mingi began nodding before you could finish the question, “yes,” he cleared his throat, the rasp in his voice sending a wave of heat down to your core, and San could see your pussy clench from where he was sat behind you.

“Mm,” you hummed, “I could tell.”

You smiled, tilting your head down to drag your attention to Mingi’s crotch, his cock hard and straining against the constraints of his dress pants. You brushed your fingertips over his zipper, smiling wider at the displeased groan sounding behind you, looking back up at Mingi when a chocked moan left his full lips, a thick gulp following it.

He rested his head against the back of the driver’s seat, taking you in wordlessly through hooded eyes, watching as you reached between your legs to swipe your fingers through your sopping cunt only to bring them back to hover in front of Mingi’s face.

“Be a good boy,” you whispered, and pushed your fingers past his plush lips.

Mingi didn’t need to be told twice, taking them like a starved man and moaning unabashedly as your slick met his tastebuds, rolling his tongue around the digits and sucking them deeper into his mouth. You felt yourself getting wetter, squeezing your thighs together while running your fingers down Mingi’s tongue until he gagged. His whine when you slid them out nearly made you cum, his head moving to chase your retreating fingers, your lingering taste alone driving him halfway to madness.

So, you brought them back, this time hovering around and over his lips despite his attempts to take them inside his mouth. Brushing your thumb through the spit soaking his lips, you shoved it past them to hook behind his bottom teeth, tugging his head forward and removing your hand just before your lips crashed. It was sloppy, way too much teeth and saliva and tongue, and yet your pussy ached, skin buzzing and your need growing the longer your mouth moved against Mingi’s. Lust guided you, your fingers squeezing around Mingi’s cock through his pants while your tongue ran across his teeth, the raspy moans reverberating against your skin fanning the fire burning within your core.

Warmth spread against your back, San’s body covering yours and his hand closing around your chin to pull you off Mingi, pausing to take in the gloss covering both your lips before his irritation grew once again, “don’t slobber on another man’s face when I’m the one fucking you.”

You visibly shuddered at his words, arching back against his torso and leaning forward to catch his lips, barely brushing against then when Mingi’s voice startled you away,

“You’re cruel, miss,” he mumbled, as though talking to himself, yet his eyes fixed on your flushed face. Noting your confusion—and San’s glare—he continued, “I called that number so many times,” he breathed deeply between each of the last three words, his voice dropping at octave as he mumbled the rest of his sentence “’kept wondering whether you tasted as sweet as you smelled.”

San felt the shiver shaking your body, and your pussy getting wetter against his cock where it lay slotted between your legs. He was so occupied with this sultry exchange he didn’t notice the engine’s silence until the doors behind him swung open. A quick peak over his shoulder calmed his reflexes, arms relaxing around your waist as Wooyoung crawled towards him.

Just as he turned his attention back to the pink-haired man admiring you with heart eyes and a tongue heavy with honey-laced words, the string of curses nearly leaving San’s mouth got interrupted,

“Oh come on, Sannie, loosen up a little,” Wooyoung ribbed, dragging his fingertips up San’s spine. “Our friend Mingi here was so excited when he heard (y/n) wanted to see him.”

“Youngie, stay out of this,” San growled, feline eyes narrowing in warning.

Scoffing, Wooyoung left San’s side with a gentle squeeze to his shoulder and a whispered “suit yourself,” moving towards your guest. You both sat back and watched as Wooyoung grabbed Mingi’s defined jaw and smashed their lips together. It was almost like watching your prior kiss from a new perspective—Wooyoung was clearly leading, sucking the plush of Mingi’s lips into his own, digging his tongue into his mouth to seek out more of him, and sneaking his hand lower to palm over his cock. His touch was rough, rendering Mingi unable to do anything but groan against Wooyoung’s mouth, the gravelly sound travelling right to your core.

“More,” he recited, tugging against the restraints at the small of his back while simultaneously fucking up into Wooyoung’s palm. All the while, Wooyoung’s kisses remained relentless, teeth digging into Mingi’s bottom lip and tongue roaming within his mouth, wanting nothing but to manhandle the taller man and take him however he wanted. He held back, though, your excitement in the back of his mind while he enjoyed what he could have.

San was starstruck, his irritation with Mingi long since fizzled away, wholly incapable of moving his eyes off the scene before him, so turned on he imagined a fire would burn less than the heat spreading under his skin.

He hissed as your fingers wrapped around his length, bringing him back to the present and aligning him with your entrance, a nonvocal appeal in the lookback you’d given him. So he slid inside you with a muttered curse, throwing his head back as your heat engulfed him, pleasure soaring through his body at the tight squeeze of his throbbing cock between your walls.

You felt so full, satiated with San finally inside you. Lowering yourself onto your elbows, you allowed your head to hang limp while San thrusted experimentally, jolting you forward with an airy ‘ah’ leaving your lips.

Wooyoung finally parted from Mingi’s now-swollen mouth, glancing behind him at the sound and missing how the other man had leaned in for more. Pretending as though he hadn’t shaken Mingi’s world and possibly given him a sexuality crisis, Wooyoung moved his attention to you and San. He watched shamelessly as San’s hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing and pulling until you sat upright on your knees, tits jumping and lips parting as ecstasy blurred your vision. He was so deep, so heavy where he sat within you, sheathing his full length inside your cunt before pulling out once again.

Following the minute shifts in your expression—brows furrowing then relaxing, lips parted and spit pooling at the reddened corners, your lashes fluttering each time San drove his cock into you—Wooyoung couldn’t stand still any longer. His lips were on yours before you could even register him moving, fingers tangling with the hair at the back of your head to push your faces impossibly closer. He inhaled deeply where his nose dug into your cheek, pulling away slightly only to press wet kisses onto your mouth, allowing you to breathe while he continued satisfying his hunger.

Mingi gulped, also sat up on his knees now and staring directly at San. And as much as San attempted to look away, to focus on his partners making out in front of him, he couldn’t take his eyes off the other man’s lips—somehow fuller than ever, red and slightly chapped from Wooyoung’s relentless nips. Walking a step forward on his knees, Mingi now sat a few inches away from San’s face, and he took the opportunity to lean even closer, frowning when San flinched backwards on instinct.

Noticing the exchange in his peripheral, Wooyoung untangled a hand from your hair to wrap around San’s head and push him forward, successfully ending his resistance when his lips touched Mingi’s.

San could taste you both on Mingi’s lips, nearly shying away them as the other man towered over him, acting as though he’d wanted to put San in this position ever since he’d gotten in this van. Spit-soaked teeth closed around his bottom lip, dragging it with them as Mingi pulled away, only to move back in for more.

You could feel San throbbing inside you, his thrusts sloppy and desperate, losing his rhythm while Mingi was on him. They sounded downright sinful, and one look over your shoulder clamped your pussy down around San, a throaty moan vibrating over Mingi’s lips.

Wooyoung left you with a tender kiss, sneaking around the tangled bodies to reach San’s posterior and bending forward to graze his lips against the shell of his ear, jolting him away from Mingi.

“Seems like our dear Sannie is finally enjoying himself,” he sneered, running his pointer over San’s pert hole and smiling wider at his startled gasp.

Drowning out the conversation behind you, your eyes fell on the tent in Mingi’s pants. You peeled San’s limp fingers from your throat and bent at your waist, placing your palms on his thick thighs to push him into a seated position. It didn’t take long to free his cock from its constraints, Mingi’s eyes wide and wanting, leaning his body back on his elbows, wrists violently tugging against the cloth around them until Wooyoung’s dark glare over San’s shoulder ceased his attempts.

You pumped his length once, taking in Mingi’s rough groan while in awe at the sheer amount of precum coating his reddened skin. You paused before taking him in your mouth, squeezing your fist around the tip and forcing Mingi’s eyes to roll back momentarily, though your head hung low and an elongated moan dragged off your tongue as San adjusted his angle, fucking up into your g-spot until splotches of white spread across your vision.

“Fuck, Sannie— So good,” you tilted your head back, lips parted as another moan slipped past them.

Mingi’s cock jumped in your hold, and you didn’t waste time lurching forward to suck the tip into your mouth. The tang overwhelming your tastebuds goaded you to take him further, flattening your tongue against the underside of his length and lowering yourself until his cockhead nudged your uvula.

“Fuuuck,” Mingi moaned on an exhale, his hips moving upwards in light thrusts to meet your mouth halfway, eyes fluttering shut each time he bottomed out within your tight channel.

You felt lightheaded, Mingi’s taste on your tongue and the deep baritone of his voice driving you to take him further inside. You could barely breathe, the backs of your thighs on fire, San’s slamming against your skin as he fucked into you like a crazed man, pushing you forward until Mingi’s cock bumped the back of your throat.  Tears blurred your vision, gagging around his length before pulling off to rest your head over his quivering thigh, but San remained relentless, pumping his cock inside you until your moans went quiet, your mouth open helplessly while burning pleasure overtook your senses.

It took you a few seconds to regain your breath, and you were sucking Mingi’s cock back into your mouth before he could even check up on you. He fought against his restrains, wanting nothing but to tangle his ringed fingers through your hair, to guide your head over the length of his cock until your spit ran down the sides.

“You can do better,” Wooyoung’s voice startled San away from his thoughts, noticing his hand going limp around Wooyoung’s cock. “Look at our pretty girl taking the both of you so well,” he compared teasingly, curling his fingers inside San while he spoke.

“Youngie, ah—fuck, ‘want a turn?” San asked, ignoring the provocation in Wooyoung’s tone and squeezing around his leaking tip.

“Mm,” he hummed into his ear, leaning some of his weight on San’s side and planting a kiss over his shoulder, “fill ‘er up for me,” another kiss on the back of his neck, “I’ll have my fun with you later.”

The purposely harsh thrust Wooyoung gave prodded right at San’s prostate, his cock jumping inside you at the stimulation and his mind going hazy.

“Fuck me, ‘m gonna cum,” San panted, squeezing around the other man while he jerked him off before letting go, instead reaching back to grab his wrist to stop his fingers from driving him off the edge.

“Ah, Sannie, feels so good,” you mumbled while kissing over Mingi’s cockhead, digging the tip of your tongue into the slit to watch his eyes roll back.

You clamped down around San when Mingi spoke suddenly, “please, please, please, miss, oh god—I’m so close,” his head hung sideways to rest over his shoulder as he watched you swallow his cock through lidded eyes.

Your pussy squelched loudly around San, slick running down the inside of your thighs, and jealousy panged painfully within his chest as he watched you deepthroat the man sat in front of him. He let go of Wooyoung, bowing forward to wrap an arm around your shoulders and pull your body towards him, Mingi’s cock slipping out of your mouth with a whine and falling heavily against his lower belly.

“San, what—”

“Don’t you even think about coming in her mouth,” San interrupted to address Mingi, balancing on one hand with the other tucking you closely against his chest. “You haven’t earned that yet.”

Yet.

The word alone made precum drip down Mingi’s cock, his voice a higher pitch as he whined disgracefully, “please, ‘wanna cum so bad,” he thrust his hips in the air involuntarily.

San paused inside you, as though contemplating for a few seconds before his hips stuttered and regained their previous pace, your hand flying to wrap around San’s hand where it dug into the mattress. And just when you’d thought the pleasure had completely dumbed you out, San slowly withdrew the arm around you and waited until you settled onto your elbows, pressing his lips to your crown before shifting his attention back to Mingi.

Wordlessly, he reached towards him and wrapped his fingers around his cock, Mingi’s sharp hiss sounding in the stuffy van as San began getting him off.

“Go on then, cum.”

Despite the animosity in his tone, you could feel San grow thicker inside you, stretching your cunt out even further. Squeezing San’s free hand, you laid your top half on the mattress and waited until Mingi absentmindedly scooted closer, resting your head on his thigh to watch San’s fist pumping his girth. San’s pace slowed while he focused on the cock in his hand, and you couldn’t complain, Mingi’s rasp in your ear and his thighs shaking underneath you, thick ropes of cum spurting from his angry tip and splattering onto the side of your face.

San waited until he’d drained Mingi completely before letting him go, his eyebrows raising when your hand took his place, squeezing around his base to hear him hiss in sensitivity. But you kept going, lifting your head and squeezing his wet cock until he began spasming, the overstimulation stretching his vocal cords until he sounded thoroughly pathetic. He panted like a dog even after you’d let him go, and you couldn’t help but wonder how he’d act when pussydrunk—your hole dripping with his load, his airy begging echoing in your ear while you slid down on him yet again, fucking yourself full of his softening cock.

An abrupt change in position paused your forming fantasy, eyes fixing on the van’s roof before San slipped into your field of vision, dimpled cheeks and warm smile lighting a gentle fire in your chest.

“Where were we?” He whispered, your familiar bubble forming around you once again as he leaned down to kiss you.

His lips were soft, moving leisurely over yours as though you were a hallowed treasure, an invaluable jewel he’d set out to heist. His cupped your jaw, burning palm against your heated skin tilting your head so he could move impossibly closer, deepening the kiss until you feared he’d devour you. Reaching between your bodies, San aligned himself and pushed inside you once again, his groan and yours mingling in the negligible air between you.

He started off slow, letting out a shuddered moan as the tight heat of your pussy sucked him in, so deep he considered never pulling out. San fit inside you like he was born to fuck you dumb, his cockhead pressing your sweet spot every time he buried himself within your cunt, pushing more of your slick out and down past where he stretched you out.

San’s hips stuttered just as he’d built up his pace, the feeling of sneaky fingers prodding at his hole again dragging his attention off your face, his features contorting when Wooyoung easily slipped two fingers into his ass. A guttural moan left his lips, eyebrows furrowed and eyes squeezed shut as he got stretched open, his hands squeezing around your waist while he adjusted.

“Is it too much, Sannie?” Wooyoung provoked him, and you knew it was his own wicked way of getting back at San for leaving him out. You could tell by the violent throbbing between your walls that San was close, and Wooyoung loved playing with San when he was desperate to cum. “’You gonna cum before our girl?”

San snapped his head towards him, glaring despite his predicament—two fingers pumping inside him and your pussy squeezing around his cock. He was in no position to glower at anyone, and yet your small giggle set him off further. He turned his attention to you, moving back to meet Wooyoung’s fingers and forward to piston his cock into your sopping hole. You sensed your orgasm building back up, arching an extra inch off the stained mattress each time San drove into you, lowering himself even more to wrap his lips around your nipple, biting and sucking it raw before licking a strip up your cleavage to the dip between your collarbones.

“Need you to come, baby, let go for me,” he wrapped both arms around you, whining between desperate groans, the stimulation from both sides almost too much for him.

You nodded wildly, a repetition of his name falling off your lips like honey-laced poison; San’s heart nearly arrested.

He untangled one of arms from your quivering form to reach for your clit, frantically flicking and rubbing until you began spasming in his arms, the whites of your eyes showing before you’d squeezed your lids together, jerking away from San’s touch yet rolling your hips towards it. Fiery pleasure blinded your senses, oxytocin rushing through your veins while your orgasm crashed into you like a cyclone wave, twitching uncontrollably within San’s hold.

It didn’t take long for San to follow, deep, breathy ‘ah’s leaving him while your pussy clenched around his cock, barely able to move as you held onto him while you came. Behind him, Wooyoung remained mostly impassive, humping San’s hip while his fingers massaged his prostate, opting to hurriedly jerk himself off instead when San’s thighs began shaking.

San could feel his sanity slipping away, Wooyoung’s fingers milking him of all he had. His cum spurted out of him in hot ropes while he hysterically grinded into you, stuffing your womb full of his seed. His moans lowered an octave, dropping himself over you while still coming, a stream of liquid squeezing past his cock and down to seep into the mattress below you.

At the first uncomfortable whine from the overstimulated man, Wooyoung pulled his fingers out, fucking his slick-covered fist until white ribbons painted San’s back, a few drops landing over his pulsing hole. He could help but reach forward to run a rough thumb over it, pushing his cum inside until San reached back to swat him away with a curse.

Wooyoung took you in from where he towered over you— sweat covered your entire body, skin sticking to San’s as he laid on top of you, head resting on your shoulder; your tits were bitten and bruised from his rough mouth, a bitemark circling your nipple, and cum dripping out of your cunt which San’s softening cock still resided within. Moving his eyes back to your face, they softened at your relaxed features, hooded eyes peering back at him and a warm, grateful smile on your lips. His cock twitched in interest upon noticing Mingi’s drying cum splattered over your face, his tongue poking the side of his mouth, aching for a taste.

Wooyoung grabbed San’s discarded singlet to wipe off the slick wetting his fingers, figuring the man wouldn’t mind another fluid staining the fabric. It was only then that he noticed your guest’s presence, fucked-out with flushed skin and blown-out pupils slowly lifting off your stretched hole to meet Wooyoung’s. Mingi’s own cum coated his toned abdomen, the muscle shaking as he took a shuddering breath in.

Wooyoung’s lips curled with something dangerous, and Mingi nearly flinched. His words, however, lit a treacherous wildfire within him and spread to his core.

“Be good, Mangi,” the nickname coming naturally, “and who knows? Maybe you’ll get the chance to taste her someday.”

please reblog/leave feedback if you enjoyed~ ^^

[daddywright]

I LIVE! AND PRESENT TO YOU BUNNY!KLAV AND LEATHER!APOLLO SMUT.

i dedicate this fic to my grems and to @queenychu, the regent supreme of klapollo. this is for you <3

please enjoy!!

fic summary:

I'm probably going to hell for this, he thinks.

He's not a believer in the traditional sense (see: ghosts, magic bracelets, and whatever it is that makes Trucy the real deal), but morally, he can say he's objectively in a gray area. Legally, it's an offense that could easily disbar him, should the details come to light. Not that it would matter, because he would immediately hurl himself from the roof of the nearest skyscraper the moment the story broke, but the point stands— on a scale of dessert for breakfast to embezzling money from dying orphans, this is probably closer to the latter than the former, and not for the last time, he wonders how he found himself agreeing to anything like it.

Eyes reluctantly glued to the mirror in front of him, the flush curling beneath his face and neck, reminds him why. Definitely immoral, he thinks, the last of his reluctance chipping away into shy pleasure.

But I look good.

[kafiguas]

we had ONE JOB

[steddie-fanfic-recs]

Class of '85

by alittleoff

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationship: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson Character: Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson Additional Tags: Time Travel Fix-It, Fix-It of Sorts, Steve gets to time travel, but the fic is in Eddie POV and he doesn't understand shit, but he is a gay disaster so, Gay Eddie Munson, Bisexual Steve Harrington, what changes steve makes without fucking up the entire timeline, Second Chances, Period-Typical Homophobia, Post S2, but is not a rewrite of season 2 but like adds stuff to what happened, Eddie Munson Has a Crush on Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington Has a Crush on Eddie Munson, First Kiss Words: 9,783 Chapters: 1/1

Summary

Eddie looks at Steve, feeling more seen than he's ever been in his life. His hand clutches back at Steve's. "Yeah. Okay. I'll graduate with you. Class of '85."  A time-travel fix-it AU from the POV of the character who didn't time travel.

[imthedr3amer]

📖 Fic share: SPN, Wincest, Mature 🩸

Rating: Mature

Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Category: M/M

Fandom: Supernatural (TV 2005)

Relationship: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester

Additional Tags: Demon Blood Addict Sam Winchester, Sam Winchester Detoxing From Demon Blood, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hallucinations, Canon-Typical Violence, Love Confessions, Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, Codependent Winchesters (Supernatural), The Epic Love Story of Sam and Dean, Wincest - Freeform [Extra tags by me: Season/Series 04, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fix-It]

Language: English

Stats: Published: 2025-03-26 Words: 6,221

De Profundis

by june_dandelion

Summary: While detoxing from demon blood in Bobby's panic room, Sam has many hallucinations. One is particularly persistent.

The title is a reference to Oscar Wilde.

[Don't forget to thank your author (who is also on Tumblr as @june-dandelion). Kudos and a comment go a long way. 🫶]

[My thoughts: Fix-it fic my beloved. 🥹]

[steddie-fanfic-recs]

No Fairy Tale Ever Started This Way

by ElliottRook

Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationship: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson Characters: Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson Additional Tags: First Meetings, First Kiss, First Time, Alternate Universe - No Upside Down (Stranger Things), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, meet ugly, Eddie Munson Has a Big Dick, Size Queen Steve Harrington, Embarrassment, Sex Toys, they don't actually get used but they are very relevant to the plot Words: 6,844 Chapters: 1/1

Summary

Eddie had a lock of his long hair twirled around his finger, and he pulled it across his face as he laughed, cheeks pinking in a faint echo of Steve's scarlet face. "But you know, it's not every day I get such clear evidence. This has saved, like, a week of being all coy on Grindr and maybe getting ghosted." Steve felt the blush, the warmth, creeping down his face and into his body. "So you're telling me that you saw the most embarrassing moment of a guy's life and your first thought was 'damn, I wanna dick that guy down'?" he asked. (He could practically hear Robin telling him to "marry that guy, you two are perfect.")