#Dick A Shirt Just Gets in the Way of Doing Things Winters

[yuujispinkhair]

Hey Winter, What are your thoughts on a friends with benefits trope with Yuuji and the reader? Love your stories btw 💗💗🩷🩷

Friends with benefits with Yuuji

Yuuji loves to be friends, and he loves to fuck. So why not combine two of his favorite things? After all, he can be your best buddy and give you backshots, right?

Pairing: Yuuji x Reader (female) Genre: smut + fluff, College AU Word Count: 1.5k Warnings: 18+, smut, handjob, fingering, oral, facesitting, fucking, squirting, loud sex. All characters are of age. Banners by @/benkeibear

It happens so naturally and without being planned or anything. Yuuji likes being your friend. He likes that you get along so well that you can laugh together and watch movies and play video games and cook together and go to fast-food restaurants in the middle of the night. He loves being best friends!

But Yuuji is also a horny boy, and he cannot stop his mind from providing him with dirty thoughts anytime you bend over and he sees your round ass right in front of his face. He cannot stop his body from reacting to being cuddled up with you under a blanket during a movie marathon and feeling your warm body press against him and your head landing in his lap, so damn close to his dick.

Yeah, he is embarrassed and feels guilty when he gets hard from watching you change in front of him. You thought it was no big deal to quickly shrug out of your shirt and sweatpants to put on a better outfit to leave the house. But Yuuji's dick decided it was a big deal, and now his honey eyes are heavy-lidded, and his tan cheeks are flushed. And you can definitely see the huge tent in your best friend's grey sweatpants.

Yuuji's sheepish smile and muttered apology don't take away the evidence that his body obviously wants you. He gulps hard as your eyes widen, and you grin while shaking your head,

"We can't go out like that, Yuu."

And he groans and nods,

"Yeah, I know! I am sorry! My dick is acting so stupid sometimes! Give me a few minutes, and it will be fine again."

He hopes he can will his erection away. Or should he just go to the bathroom and jack off? But before he can decide what to do, you take a step closer to him, and he feels a bit dizzy at the way your gaze is fixed on the bulge in his sweats while you lick your lips.

"Or... I could help you with that."

Maybe it's just meant as a joke. Maybe Yuuji is supposed to laugh and tell you to stop teasing him. But honestly, his ears are ringing, and he feels his cock twitch in interest at your words. He cannot think straight anymore. He always gets a bit stupid when he's horny. And so the only thing that comes out of his mouth is,

"You really wanna help? You don't have to..."

"It's ok, we are best friends. You are closer to me than anyone else, Yuu. And well, it's been a while since I touched a guy, and I kind of... crave it?"

Yuuji only blinks at you for a second before he nods wildly. How could he say no to such a nice offer? He's already lifting his hips and pushing down his sweats and the red boxer briefs underneath, spreading his muscular thighs and taking his fat cock in his hand and pumping it eagerly while a shaky moan escapes his lips,

"Fuck! Then yeah, help me please..."

The first touch of your fingertips to his swollen tip has him whining, and it only takes a short time before he cums all over your hand, nutting so hard that he sees stars.

Fuck, he likes that! It's so easy with you, so uncomplicated. He already likes you so much, and now he can also get his cock stroked by you and maybe even get a chance to touch you too. It really sounds like a perfect deal!

He hasn't even tucked himself back into his pants when the words tumble out of his mouth,

"Thank you... Um, can I repay the favor? I mean, you got me off, and it only seems fair that I get you off, too. Can I? Please?"

That's how you end up on his lap, naked from the waist down, two of Yuuji's thick fingers pumping in and out of your dripping wet cunt while his thumb plays with your clit, making you dig your nails into his broad shoulders and shake and tremble from the intensity of your orgasm on your best friend's hand.

Yuuji is the one who suggests the friends-with-benefits arrangement after that mind-altering experience. After all, he really likes being friends, and he really likes to fuck, so why not combine two of his favorite things? He simply cannot find any downside to that.

"So, we are best friends, and you made me cum, and I made you cum, and I really liked it. Was it good for you too? We could add that to our friendship. If it's ok with you. I mean, sometimes, you know? When we crave it. You are single, and I am single, and I don't really like going to clubs and finding someone just for one night. And you don't do that either. So, maybe we could just make each other feel good sometimes when we feel like it. Would that be ok?"

It is ok, and suddenly, your friendship is not just super fun and goofy but also super sexy.

Only two days later, you both get so riled up while sitting next to each other playing a video game that you end up sloppily making out and feeling each other up through your clothes, dry humping until you both can't take it anymore and tear at each other's clothes.

Finally, Yuuji's large hands are on your juicy ass, kneading your plump cheeks thoroughly while his eyes stare hungrily and his mouth is hanging open, drooling over himself as he looks at you on all fours in front of him, completely naked, ass wiggling teasingly for him, your pussy dripping wet and ready for him to fuck it and make you and him feel good.

Yuuji asks himself why he didn't think of this whole friends-with-benefits thing sooner! He moans so loud that the neighbors hear him when he finally sinks his fat cock into you and fucks you so good you nut three times for him and mewl his name over and over again.

The two of you start to experiment. Trying new positions, you never did before but always wanted to try. Learning each other's body and how to get the best reactions. It's shameless and easy. There are no secrets between you, no taboos. You are best friends, after all. You can tell each other everything. And do everything with each other.

You tell Yuuji no guy ever took such good care of you in bed when he pulls you on his face and eats you out for a whole hour. And it makes him so happy because he likes you so much, and you are his bestie and deserve the world, and Yuuji is delighted to give you that!

It's so natural, so easy to do this friends-with-benefits thing with you. You come to his apartment and tell him you are stressed, and Yuuji fucks you right there up against the wall and afterward on his bed and doesn't let go of you until you squirt all over his cock and are thoroughly satisfied and practically fucked dumb on his cock.

The two of you watch a movie, and your hand naturally slips into Yuuji's sweats to give him a slow handjob because you know he loves that while watching movies. And his hand slips into your pants, too, and rubs circles around your clit until you mess up your panties from cumming so much.

He groans about being so stressed from all those stupid assignments, and you crawl under his desk and give him a blow job that helps him relax, kissing his cum-stained tip afterward and smiling up at him and patting his thigh, telling him he will ace his assignment with your help.

And all the time, the two of you have so much fun, laughing about small mishaps and giggling after screaming each other's name during a particularly intense fuck. It's easy. It's fun. You know each other so well and trust each other completely. It's so freeing to just fuck each other on top of being best friends. There is no shame, no holding back, just horny, needy fucking anytime you need it.

And comforting, sweet kisses and warm cuddles.

You both don't realize that you are practically already a couple. Maybe the kissing marathons should give it away, the hours cuddled up in bed where you just kiss and talk and smile at each other. Maybe the fact that neither of you even tries to get to know someone else should be an indicator.

The two of you go to a party together, which is a perfectly normal thing best friends do. Ok, Yuuji admits that the way you dance with each other is a bit dirtier than only friends would do, but he is fine with people knowing you are friends with benefits, and this is nothing new after all.

But what is new is that you kiss him right there in the middle of the dancefloor, and it somehow makes Yuuji feel so proud that he is the only one you kiss. He finds that he can't pull away from you, and so he just keeps kissing you, just keeps pulling you tighter against his body, making out with you until his head spins.

It is Nobara who asks the question when she walks into the kitchen later on and sees how Yuuji has you pressed up against the fridge with his tongue down your throat and your fingers in his pink hair.

"What the fuck? Why didn't you two tell me you are dating??"

"Because we aren't."

"When what is this?"

"We are friends... friends who make out and... have sex sometimes."

"Don't give me that shit. The two of you have practically been married for two years. Everyone says that. We were just wondering why you never made it official. Oh well, the cat's out of the bag now. Quick, let me text everyone!!"

And with that, Nobara leaves Yuuji and you standing there, your fingers still tangled in Yuuji's soft pink strands, your lips still swollen from his kisses, and finally, something clicks in his mind, and he smiles his sheepish smile at you and is like,

"I didn't know I am a married man, but I kinda like it. What about you?"

HE MAKES ME FEEL SO AAAHHHH!!!! I ruined my panties writing this. Thank you so much for sending me this prompt!! I see Yuuji as the best guy for friends to lovers, and the friends-with-benefits trope is the perfect way to get there!! I really think he is incapable of keeping things casual but also kind of oblivious until someone else points it out ;)

I love horny boy Yuuji!! I hope you like him too!!

Please let me know what you think. Reblogs and comments would be super sweet 💗

[mauvecherie-writes]

filthy: l.hamilton.

warning: 18+ mdni, extreme sexual content, slight dom!lewis, mating press, dirty talk, unprotected p in v.

notes: this gif set sent me and @hopefulromantic1 down a sinful path. our dark thoughts collided. Also I didn’t watch the episode lmao - a small section of this - paragraph 3 - is purely based on the gifs I’ve seen 😂. either way ennjjooyy 😘🤭.

I’m thinking about how you can’t get over just how buff Lewis got over the winter break. You love the way he just fills his t-shirts more, the way his thighs stretch the fabric of his pants - just how every inch of him seems to be bulging.

Just watching him do mundane things has you all hot and bothered. Like you’re in the living room watching his episode of DTS and you’re squirming in your seat as if he’s not somewhere in the house.

It’s the weirdest thing that sets you off. He’s by the track in his white tee, talking to the kids from Mission44 and he moves to clap his hands before swinging his arms. holy fuck. you’re creaming for your man.

You move so quickly off the sofa, you startle your sleepy boy Roscoe. You throw an apology to him before running to the security system and search the camera footage to see where he is.

He’s outside, fixing up the trampoline for the kids. You run to the backyard and for a moment you stop and just watch him. His arms flexing as he tightens the bolts on the legs.

When you catch his eye, he smiles at you. So bright and wide, his eyes crinkle in the corners and your heart beats faster causing you to blush.

“What’s up baby?” He asks you as he stands to his full height.

You don’t answer and in that moment Lewis sees the glint in your eye and he immediately knows where your heart is at. It makes him smirk.

“I have a problem.” You say as you tip-toe toward him.

“Tell me love.” He says, wiping his hands before taking your hand pulling you closer before he settles his large palms on your waist as yours wrap around his neck and you play with the strands at the back of his head.

“I see you on the show and you’re all buff and shit, muscles spilling out of your shirt and then I see you out here doing work.”

“Did that turn you on baby?” He licks his lips as he trails his hands down to your ass and cups your cheeks.

“Yeah.” You let out a breathless sigh as he massages your flesh.

“How do you want me to fix it sweetheart?”

You give an all knowing smile and next thing you know, he’s picking you up in his arms and running back into the house. You don’t even go all the way to the master bedroom.

He bulldozes his way into the guest bedroom downstairs and chucks you onto the bed like you weigh nothing before pulling at your clothes and barely stepping out of his before he’s back in between your legs.

“You’re so fucking wet. Did I really do that to you sweet girl?” He smiles as he stretches his knees apart - pushing yours further apart too.

“Yes!” You gasp as you arch forward trying to press your cunt against this dick. “I’m also ovulating so that could be it too.” You confess.

Lewis grunts at your words as he presses into you. Once your eyes roll, he doesn’t hold back. He’s fucking you so good that you’re screaming and trying to run away from him. He’s deep in your guts as you struggle for words.

His shoulders and chest are folding you and pressing into you as you struggle for air.

“It’s t- too much baby.” You hiccup as his skin slaps against the back of thighs. His mark was all over your body despite the way that he has you folded. The contact bites at your skin from the ferocity of his thrusts.

He’s fucking you into the bed and crushing you until you’re gasping for air and he laughs at you - mocking you for how much you said you could take him but you’re clearly having trouble doing so.

You keep trying to run away.

You try to beg but he’s not having it, the laughter is gone from his voice - he’s serious again. Your legs are back on his shoulders and he’s got you in a mating press as he fucks you harder and harder into the bed.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going huh?” He hisses in your ear as he thrusts until you. “I’m fixing your problem aren’t I? This is what you wanted. Why you running?” He taunts you.

You cry louder as tears trail down your cheeks and settle into the crooks of your neck.

“This is what you wanted. Fucking take it!” He growls. “Take this fucking dick, it’s yours.”

ru’s letters 💌: I’m ending it here. Let your imagination run 😝😌

tags: @queenshikongo3 @dhlfastestlap @lewisinlace @emjayewrites @saintslewis @serpenttines-library @hopefulromantic1 @cocobutterqwueen @bluesole16 @chaneajoyyy @melodichaeuxx-lacritquexx @felicity-x0 @lewisroscoelove @lh44adore @hellomadamebutterfly @scorpiobleue @qveenmelanink @tremendousstarlighttragedy

[paarksunghoon]

hyung line requestttttt

Getting high with Sunghoon but he has an oral fixation — 🦔

u get me.

***

“Open up.”

Sunghoon’s deep, raw voice pulls you out of your thoughts. Your body feels heavy as you sit on the couch, almost as if you were a magnet drawn to a surface. He’s holding a joint between his fingers as you turn your head to look at him and his eyes focus on your mouth. You do as he says.

The joint between your lips feels natural. He lights the end until smoke is visible and watches the way you inhale while keeping eye contact. When your lungs breathe in the euphoric property, you avert your head to look at the ceiling and blow the smoke away from him.

“You get hotter every time.” That makes you laugh.

“Are you turned on watching me smoke, baby?”

Sunghoon nods and takes a small drag for himself and puts his palm on your thigh. “Makes me wanna fuck you.”

“O-Oh yeah?” The smoothness of his hand slides up and down slowly like he’s trying to hold himself back. His fingertips toy with the hem of his shirt on your chest and dips his fingers until they’ve disappeared just a little.

Sunghoon didn’t get high much before meeting you. It was more of a casual thing, maybe once in a blue moon if someone else offered and if he felt good enough to do it. There was partial curiosity in marijuana but Sunghoon panicked at the thought of trying it by himself.

Meeting you happened by chance at a party two months ago. It was mildly chilly as winter turned into spring when he stood next to you in Heeseung’s basement, leaning his back against a wall with your mixed friend groups standing in a circle.

Something about your quick whips tugged at his heartstrings. He laughed at your jokes and didn’t mind it when your shoulder bumped against his when you talked. It almost felt intimate in that way. You were two strangers who met each other an hour prior and there he was, looking at your lips every chance he got.

Sunghoon doesn’t quite know how he did it, but he managed to score your number by the end of the night. You called him cute and made his ears flush. When he confided in you about wanting to get high but being afraid to do so, you told Sunghoon to be with people who make him feel safe.

He grew infatuated with you and the way you encouraged him to be more outspoken if he wanted something. You were so cool in a way he wish he was but he chalks it up to the confidence you’ve built for yourself. So carefree and lighthearted, you took life’s challenges with stride and refused to let yourself get knocked down. It was inspiring to see you be unapologetic about yourself. There wasn’t anyone in the world who could push you down because you wouldn’t let them.

Two weeks into knowing you, the two of you hooked up for the first time in the backseat of his car after a night of banter and sexual tension. He pulled over the side of the road in the dead of night and beckoned you to the backseat. Too horny to think, he gave you one chance to pass on him before pulling his dick out of his pants.

There was little foreplay because of the angle and the sheer urgency since you were in public. But that wasn’t a problem because you became extreme aroused when Sunghoon started to manhandle you with the kind of confidence he’d never shown you before. He pulled your panties off of your body and spread your legs with his strength and watched you ooze out your arousal and pushed his dry tip against you.

He let it glide up and down with rushed hips until he was dipping the tip inside. He felt so good even with just this taste. Sunghoon moans and felt your pussy clench around him when he pulled out to put a condom on. He fucked you so hard the car shook with vigor until the two of you lay together well spent, and you had wondered how you could get him to be so forward with you again.

That moment began your friends-with-benefits arrangement with him. Somehow, as he got closer to you, Sunghoon felt enough with you to get truly high for the first time.

It was cute, the way he coughed the first time smoking a joint. You kissed his cheek and told him to take a small breath and hold it in longer than he thinks he needed to. He followed your instructions and you praised him for being so good at listening.

The two of you don’t go anywhere farther than grinding when you’re both inebriated. The thrill of it all is euphoric to Sunghoon no matter if it seems unconventional. You’ve talked about it—having sex while high is on a bucket list for the two of you—and agreed that if it felt right, why not try it?

So now you sit facing Sunghoon as you watch him expertly inhale a puff of smoke and push his lips against yours. It travels into your mouth and the proximity of his lips makes you shudder. Sunghoon keeps his hand on you and pries your legs open slowly.

“You’re so soft,” he whispers as he pecks your mouth. His plump lips feel like pillows. Sunghoon drags his fingers across the hem of your panties, tracing the fabric before sliding his fingers up and down your slit. “God, you’re so wet, too.”

His soft touch tingles in a way that travels to your toes. Sunghoon comes closer to lick your neck before pressing small kisses over it. The sensation is astounding. Every nerve in your body is alert and you’ve never felt more aroused in your entire life.

“I’m so lucky to get to fuck you,” he says against your neck. “I’ve never had anyone better.”

And, well, that’s true. You knew he had a girlfriend before you but when you both started to open up about sexual history and preferences, you learned that Sunghoon’s ex girlfriend didn’t quite meet him halfway.

His confession makes you clench but your words get stuck in your throat with his sudden confession. It turns you on more than you’d like to admit. Sunghoon pulls your panties off completely and kneels on the floor until his face hovers over you.

“Can I?”

Within a fraction of a second of you nodding, Sunghoon’s sticking his tongue out and licking a fat stripe up your core. It’s astonishing the way he maintains being anywhere between dominant and desperate when he’s high. It’s like his brain can’t choose how he wants to act and so his desires come out without abandon. His typically hesitant self is replaced by someone who isn’t afraid to show you how badly he wants you.

Sunghoon lets his spit drip down his tongue until your pussy’s wet enough to glisten. He licks it all up and pushes his tongue harder against you until he feels your toes pressing against his back as you arch yourself into his mouth.

You can tell he’s into it when he allows you to suffocate him. Sunghoon doesn’t resist much when your legs close around his head. In fact, you think he might enjoy being restricted like this because his tongue pushes into you like he’s trying to memorize what you feel like against his wet muscle. In and out does he move his mouth and every pass makes your legs feel like they’re about to fall apart.

He moans into you when he feels your fingers carding through his hair and tugging on the strands whenever he pushes his tongue into you harder. Sunghoon doesnt care that his mouth and chin have become sopping wet with your arousal and his spit. He welcomes the mess, even.

Sunghoon pulls his head back just a little to see the way you look down at him. The eye contact makes you clench and he chuckles straight into your pussy, which makes your toes curl and back arch even higher from the couch beneath you.

He looks like a sex god at this angle and you’re sure some divine power from above must’ve loved you enough to give you someone as handsome and as caring as Sunghoon. His hands are so gentle on your thighs, caressing your soft skin while his tongue licks your slit like you’re his favorite treat he’s trying to savor.

Sunghoon always brings you across the finish line and it’s something you appreciate about him. He moves his tongue with precision, even if patterns he draws feel random at best. In the time he’s gotten to know you intimately, you’ve been wondering if he’s learning about your body every time he sees you naked.

He coaxes you into an orgasm when you push your hands into his. Sunghoon immediately clasps his fingers in yours and eases the pressure on your core once your release hits his tongue. He laps it up like he hasn’t had a sip of water in days and cleans you up to the best of his ability. Sunghoon’s tongue feels so soft and gentle as you come down from your orgasm but the high from the marijuana is still a lingering presence, aiding in your euphoric come down.

The two of you look at each other like you know there’s an unspoken presence between the two of you. For now, Sunghoon smiles at you in the way he does when he’s trying to figure out a way to tell you he likes you without directly saying it.

You silence him with a kiss and hope he knows you like him too.

***

comments and reblogs are appreciated! x

[artdcnaldson]

it’s evil art and stepcest o’clock !!!

stanford era art sending patrick videos of himself fucking pat’s stepsister!reader ,, your mom married patrick’s dad ago when all of you were still in high school. it was abrupt to say the least, one day pat walks into his family’s estate for the start of winter break and all of a sudden there’s a girl his age glaring at him in the kitchen. getting close to you was like calming down a feral animal, but eventually you and patrick reached a closeness no one expected. art has always been an extension of patrick, so naturally the three of you became a little trio, especially when you have a little saltburn summer together at one of patrick’s estates before you and art go off to stanford and patrick heads out on tour.

and the thing is, art is more perceptive than either of you give him credit for. he sees the way you two look at each other, the lingering looks and the touches that last a little too long. so he starts testing the waters. he flirts with you, gets closer to you than he needs to when you talk, takes you out on the tennis court early in the morning to “help him practice” so when pat wakes up he sees you coming back inside laughing together. patrick fucking seethes every time, but he refuses to say anything. art even teases him about it when they’re alone, runs a hand up patrick’s thigh and says things like “don’t you wish this was her doing this to you?” and of course patrick caves, admits his wants when art takes his dick down his throat, but he never makes a move. he never crosses the line. so, art starts trying with you, too. he’ll sneak into your room (usually after he’s done with patrick) and touch you slow, pinch your nipples, ghost his fingers over your clit. he never goes too far, just gets you worked up and makes you cum on his fingers. all while whispering, “wouldn’t his fingers feel so good in this little pussy?”

he spends the whole summer working both of you up and still nothing happens, so when you and him are alone at stanford together he decides to push again. selfishly, he knows he’s also doing this for himself. he’d be deluding himself if he said he hadn’t wanted to fuck you from the moment he laid eyes on you. honestly, him keeping himself from doing it every time he dipped his fingers in your wet pussy should win him a fucking medal of honor. now though, now he has you with your chest pinned to the bed, sobbing directly into his shitty phone camera, begging for patrick while you fuck yourself back on his dick. “go on baby, tell pat what you told me,” he pants.

“please- fuck— please come visit pat, want- want you so bad- ‘m sorry i didn’t say! ‘m sorry- ‘m sorry!”

patrick’s never booked a flight faster in his life <33

RAHHH RAHH RAHHHH

Art takes one look at you and Patrick’s sappy, lovebird expressions and your refusal to ever actually fucking do something and he just snaps. He’ll be a good friend, he’ll fix it for Patrick, just like Patrick helped him with so many of his crushes that weren’t going to fucking go anywhere.

Of course you think Art’s hot, you think he’s sweet, and he’s smart, and he gives you all the attention you could want. And the best thing is, your mom isn’t fucking married to his dad. So you don’t mind when he kisses you, when he has you pinned onto your bed and moves his hand under your shirt to play with your tits. His mouth tastes like Patrick’s sometimes, and you always kiss him harder when he does.

And he knows— you know he knows how you feel about Patrick, because he teases you about it, always when he’s got his fingers buried inside of you and you’re right on the brink. Don’t you think Patrick’s fingers would feel so good stretching out your tight little pussy? Don’t you wish he’d just fuck you the way you want? Just pin you down and claim your pussy as his own? Oh, fuck, I can feel you clenching around my fingers, you want him so bad. You want your step brother bullying this little pussy, he’s so mean for keeping his cock from you, huh?

It makes you cum every time, gushing around his fingers, mouth open and pink as you cry out with pretty moans. Art licks inside, kisses you hungry and desperate while you fist his cock in your hand. You always want him to fuck you, but he just tells you not tonight. A good friend wouldn’t fuck their best friend’s crush, would they?

Patrick tries to keep it from Art, but he never can. Art hears him fucking his fist in the shower after you’ve all been at the pool. Listens to the wet sounds of Patrick’s lubed up hand gliding along his dick until he gets frustrated and says, “Art, get over here.” Art takes over with his fist, with his mouth. Almost lets Patrick cum before he pulls away. “Admit you want her first.”

Patrick just covers his face with his arm, groans out a pained, “Art—“ Because he’s killing him. He’s actually fucking killing him. When did the Art he met at the tennis academy, the one who sang in the choir for his grandma’s church and wouldn’t even swear until Patrick goaded him to, become this mean. “She’s my sister.”

Art grins. “Your step sister, who you want to fuck.” Patrick doesn’t get to cum until he admits it. He’s rewarded by Art’s hot, perfect mouth and the rare opportunity to cum down his throat. For being a good sport.

He thinks that’s it, you both accepted it, you’ll both just get it over with and fuck, and hopefully still include him since he was kind enough to encourage it. But you don’t. There’s still sweet longing glances and lingering touches. He walks in on you and Patrick giggling in your room, tossing sour patch kids back and forth and seeing who can catch the most in your mouths. Sits on the bed when you curl up and rest your head in Patrick’s lap, while he pets your hair and lets his fingers trace along your face like a boyfriend would.

You’re so lonely at Stanford. Patrick’s gone to god knows where, playing in low level tournaments, losing and sulking without you to comfort him. He calls you almost every night, and you ask him about if he’s seeing anyone. He just kind of goes quiet and says, “C’mon.” You know how he feels, he knows you feel the same way, and that you’re both horribly, painfully stuck.

You show up to Art’s dorm teary eyed and needing comfort. He misses Patrick too, you know he does. He’s the only one who understands. It’s two in the morning and Art’s all disheveled from sleep as he opens the door. His eyes widen— you’re just wearing one of Pat’s shirts, and jesus, you can’t just walk around a college campus like that. He ushers you in, closes the door behind him.

“I miss Pat,” is all you say, and suddenly your lips are on his and you’re tripping over clothes and bags in the dark room as he guides you onto his bed. He’s a little slow, still waking up, but his hands are warm and feel a little rough like Patrick’s do.

His phone vibrates on the bedside table, but he silences it with the press of a button. “Sorry,” he mumbles, leans forward and kisses you slow and hungry. His tongue moves against yours as he slides a hand into your panties, rubs at your swollen clit so you moan into his mouth.

“You’re so wet,” he groans. You nod, grind down against his fingers. “For me or for Patrick?”

You whine, can’t even look at him. “Both.” It’s shameful to admit it, that you’d been wet the entire time that you and Patrick had been catching up on the phone, that you’d thought about slipping your hands into your panties and touching yourself to his voice. But that was… you couldn’t do that. But Art could help.

He slips your panties down your thighs, eases one finger inside your pussy, then another. He thrusts them slow and deep, brings pretty mewls from your lips. “What do you need, hm?”

“Patrick,” you whine.

He nods, noses along the side of your jaw, and sucks on your throat. “I know, baby. Pat’s not here. You want me to make you feel better? You can pretend I’m him.”

So you do. You beg for it, for Art to fuck you. He knows you’re not just thinking about him, that you’re across an ocean with Patrick just as much as you’re in his bed. So sweet beneath him, crying out for him, for Patrick in equal measure. Moaning about how you want your stepbrother’s cock, about how much you miss Patrick, begging for Art to fuck you harder.

At a hostel in Germany, Patrick just has to listen to it.

[jedisupernova]

compress, repress (part iii) — kwon jiyong & choi seunghyun

summary betrayal is irreversible. secrets, in theory, can be kept. but not when cowardice gets in the way.

notes minors dni contains challengers au (for my girls who know: the churro scene, inclusion of 'i told ya' shirt,) fem reader, unabashedly plus size reader as i am myself but anyone can read, takes place in the mid 2000s (hence mentions of certain music, technology, media, etc.), everyone is a college senior, tennisplayer!jiyong and tennisplayer!seunghyun; reader is head of debate team, smut (oral f receiving, p in v, whimpering, sub!seunghyun, pathetic behavior, nipple play, squirting,) angst (all three are at times depicted as not the greatest of people, infidelity, inferiority complex, keeping secrets, severed friendships, deception, greed, lying, yearning, arguments and fights, accidental injury, seunghyun is a shit-stirrer, selfishness, possessiveness, insecurity; this is just messy as fuck,) i don't know anything about professional sports so pls don't laugh at me, if you went to stanford and are reading this no you're not, and inevitable typos though some are intentional.

author's note welcome to part iii of my challengers au!!!! shit is about go Down fr. a brief disclaimer: these are only characters; in no way do i claim either would act this way in real life. please read the previous parts (linked below) or else you will very confused! this is about the same length as part ii (long as fuck) so get comfy. please lmk what you think!! my ask box is always open :) see you next friday for the fourth and final part 🎾

part i | part ii | part iii | part iv

were you an overthinker? sure. well . . . it is your most viable asset on the debate stage. sifting through someone’s argument as it actively deflates their lungs, plugging it through various filters and equations in your head—the result being a reliably succinct, a-through-z rebuttal in a matter of a minute. but when alone, and on the train home no less? it's like a parasite, gnawing away at your last bits of logic. you didn’t necessarily regret what you did, but the question of what do i do now? stuck out like a sore thumb, distracting you from scenic views of the distant beaches, houses you’ll never be able to afford, and expansive forests. upon arriving home, you figured you would use winter break as time to not only decompress, but figure things out. piece by piece, day by day—in the solace of your bedroom, in the mundaneness of doing laundry and unpredictable preparing for the holidays—away from stanford. you answered jiyong’s texts with no issues, skirting around your complex feelings with a quick I miss you too ji baby and Gtg shop 4 xmas dinner. calls were trickier, though. it would cause suspicion if you weren’t available to talk whatsoever, so you took one for the team from time to time. the fact you thought of it that way told you everything you needed to know.

much to his fortune, seunghyun figured it out, too. “how’s the missus?” he asked jiyong, eyes casted on perfecting his spoonful of macaroni and cheese, bringing it to his mouth afterward. his tone was casual and unassuming—perfect for christmas dinner at the kwon household, but also amongst two friends just checking in on one another. seunghyun turned his head, hearing their parents banter in the kitchen. jiyong got comfortable next to him on the couch, fingers tugging at the bunched-up hem of his sweater, other hand holding his water. “everything good with you two?” seunghyun’s word choice was diabolical, considering he was nose deep in your pussy a week and same change ago, and he tugged his dick to the memory of it just as santa claus descended down his chimney. “yeah, we’re good.” said jiyong, “we haven’t talked that much lately, though. she’s been busy with, y'know, her family.” seunghyun nodded, listening. ghosts of a grin tugged at the corners of his mouth, thinking of how you and him were on the phone just before he got there, and every night since exams ended, too. “makes sense.” said seunghyun. “it is the holiday season, after all.”

“how was dinner, hm?” you asked, lifting your shoulder to keep the house phone to your ear, folding your outfit away from your family dinner. it was around an hour after either of you returned home. seunghyun laid comfortably in his bed, “really good.” he ran his fingers through his hair, arm relaxing behind his head. “food was fuckin’ amazing. how about you, baby?” “mine was good, too.” you closed your closet door, able to hold the phone with your hand now. you sat on the edge of your bed, a sigh escaping your lips, “a little chaotic, but you know how that goes.” he chuckled, nodding. “i do. jiyong told me something real curious, though.” “he did?” “mhm,” seunghyun cleared his throat. “he said you guys haven’t talked in, like, three days? i thought you went to your aunt’s for christmas.” your face warmed, “i mean, i did go there.” “well,” seunghyun’s tone was smooth and playful, smile heard through the phone. “i’m obviously missing a piece of the story, baby. because we’ve been talking for three days straight. what’d you tell him?” “i told him she lives across state lines, meaning a multiple-day road trip with choppy cell service.” “right.” “well, he probably thinks i’m still on the road.” “does your aunt live far?” “she lives four blocks down. walking distance if i’m up for it.”

you heard him snicker. “am i the worst person in the world?” “not worse than me.” he countered, adjusting his grip on his blackberry. “i mean . . . i was the one that asked him about you. i called you 'the missus’ and everything.” an amused scoff left your lips, pinching the bridge of your nose, hiding your smile behind your hand. “we’re horrible people.” “once you accept that, it sets you free.” he told you, a hearty laugh ringing from his chest. he heard your bed creak, your soft and satisfied hmph after settling your head into your pillow molding his lips into an upside down grin. “i miss you, y'know.” he spoke gently. “i can’t wait to see you again.” you smiled sheepishly to yourself, grateful he wasn’t able to see you at that moment. “i miss you too, seunghyun.” “y'know,” his voice brought you back to him. “it was hard for me to keep quiet last night—” “—we are not doing this on my parents’ landline.” you cut him off with a brisk laugh, though your toes curled around nothing atop your duvet.

seunghyun took his phone away from his ear. he rolled the trackball, lighting his screen, seeing it was half past midnight. “it's late enough. they’re probably asleep.” he said, turning onto his side. “plus, it's not my fault you don’t have enough minutes to talk on your cell.” “and it's not my fault you wanna be all whiny about it.” you countered, chuckling. “its serves you right to be told 'no,’ too.” “i like it when it's you.” “i know you do.” something in you knew seunghyun was still in his mood. with how he was getting you there, too, you checked to see if the small screen on the house phone read Conf.—indicating someone was listening to the call. you let out a small breath of relief, reading Talk with the duration of the call underneath—the coast was clear. “y'know,” here he goes, your inner monologue said. “it's a shame we’re apart for so long 'cause i’m forgetting how you taste. might need to go in a second time. or a third. or a fourth. maybe a fifth.” “maybe? just maybe?” you asked, voice smooth. “you were really greedy in your car.” he kissed his teeth, fingers toying with the drawstrings of his sweatpants. “nah, baby.” he kissed his teeth. “i wasn’t greedy enough.”

you let out a sweet laugh, turning to lay on your back. “noted.” you said. “i’ll clear my schedule.” “you better.” he smiled. “i gotta a lot of time to make up for.” comfortable silence washed over the line, landing you somewhere you knew you would get to eventually. “i’m breaking up with jiyong when we get back from break.” you told seunghyun, hearing his hum of acknowledgment. “do you think he’ll take it well?” “yeah.” he answered earnestly, nodding though you couldn’t see him. “maybe not initially. but he’ll be okay.” “what was his last break-up like? if you remember.” “i do.” said seunghyun. “he took it out on the court and didn’t talk about it again. i can’t blame him. things don’t really work out in his favor sometimes.” your chest sunk, hiding your face behind your palm in shame. “this is going to suck so bad.” “its better than stringing him along and fucking his best friend on the side.” “i know but i already—” you cut yourself off with a sharp tsk. cheated on him, your inner monologue finished for you. you couldn’t bring yourself to say it, though seunghyun felt it nonetheless.

“whatever. forget it,” you brushed it off. “what does this mean for us then, hm? don’t make me feel stupid for asking this.” “i would never.” seunghyun shook his head, honest. a smile brightened his features, “i mean . . .” his voice trailed sheepishly, “i thought you already knew.” “i don’t feel like solving one of your riddles right now, seunghyun.” he was quick to clarify, smiling real damn hard now: “like you said in the car, i have a really big crush on you. i hope you have one on me, too.” “we’re seriously doing confessions after you fucked the shit out of me?” “we did it before!” he exclaimed louder than he intended to, face warm and cheeks hurting from his smile. “b-before we—” “—i know, i know.” you chuckled. “i’m just messing with you.”

“do you have a crush on me, though?” “to think,” you tutted playfully. “you’re the same person who talked to me like he takes his third leg on daily walks when we first met.” seunghyun buried his face into his pillow, “just answer the question, baby.” “of course i do. who wouldn’t?” you said. “it means more coming from you.” your heart warmed, “i know it does.” you continued, “you know we can’t tell him, right? at least not yet.” seunghyun’s eyebrows fluttered in and out of a furrow, “so we have to sneak around? in case mommy and daddy catch us?” “i mean, do you want to tell him?” you challenged, met with anticipated silence. “i thought so. let me figure it out.” “okay, okay.” he couldn’t fight his yawn—how long he’d been up for the holiday catching up to him. “i trust you, baby. i’d take it to my grave if you told me to. i feel you reconfiguring my moral compass as we speak.” “i guess that’s just what good pussy does.” “you said it, not me. but you’re more than that, though.” “oh, i forgot—you’re a card-carrying feminist.” “proudly.”

jiyong’s smile didn’t make it easier. he was over the moon to see your beautiful self again, walking into your dorm. his kiss made it all the more apparent: “hey baby,” his tone was so doting it stirred guilt-induced nausea in your chest, feeling his fingers find yours. he pulled you into him, you inhaled sharply through your nostrils, sudden surprise hidden well by his lips molding against yours—remembering right, that’s how boyfriends greet their girlfriends. you tried to distract yourself, kissing him back in a way that earned his hands rubbing your lower back soothingly, humming in satisfaction once his arms made residence around your waist. “how’ve you been, hm?” he asked. “i’ve been good.” “yeah? c'mere.” jiyong re-connected the kiss slowly, nudging his nose against yours sweetly, savoring the moment. your hands traveled up his chest, his head tilting to the left once your palms found either side of his neck, kissing you deeper. despite the bitter voice in his head telling him he was inadequate in other places, nothing held the power to deny him that he knew what the fuck to do with that mouth of his.

he gently parted his lips from yours, doting on your cheek next. you had to stop yourself from leaning back in, compensating by wrapping your arms around the back of his neck, pulling one another into a warm embrace. “i missed you so much. i wish we could’ve spent new year’s together, at least.” “i know, jiyongie.” your fingers combed through his hair, “i missed you too.” “how was the train back?” he asked, pressing a kiss to your soft jawline. “i feel like i haven’t seen you in forever.” “since last year.” you joked, feeling the vibrations of his chuckle against your neck. “since last year.” jiyong affirmed. though it was only the first week of the spring semester—and both yours and jiyong’s final one at stanford—it didn’t mean either of your schedules let up. though coursework hadn’t intensified yet; senior theses were due in a few months time, the collegiate tennis season was kicking into high gear in the coming weeks, and prep for the national debate tournament before spring break was in full-force. not to mention, both you and jiyong had respective practices tonight, too. it never ends.

“the train was okay.” you told him, feeling him hum against you, a sweet kiss left in his path. “long, though. but nice. how about your flight? any turbulence like last time?” “thankfully, no.” jiyong lifted his head, lips pressing a chaste kiss to the side of your nose, eyes meeting yours. “well, i mean—seunghyun and i just slept the entire time. so if it happened, i’d have no idea.” you hated how the mere mention of his name made you panic. “really?” your eyebrows raised as if jiyong’s anecdote was an earth-shattering revelation. “it's tough for me to sleep on transit like that. you’re lucky.” jiyong shrugged his shoulders, oblivious. “i guess growing up traveling for games helped out.” jiyong spent the latter part of your shared afternoon like it was any other day: running his thumb over the back of your hand, telling you what he did over break, and peppering sweet kisses on your temple when you were talking. you, on the other hand, were working against an invisible timer. everything you practiced to say, everything you thought of faded closer to your periphery every time his eyes twinkled in your direction—the same way they’ve always done since you first met. it didn’t feel good, knowing how he’d leave your dorm differently than when he came . . . but it’d be worse if it was way farther down the line, your inner monologue reasoned, it's the least i can do for him. i’ve done enough, already.

jiyong’s face fell. “wh—what?” his voice went quiet. “i-i thought . . . i thought things were going good between us?” “it's just that—i just don’t think i see myself being in a relationship right now. like, i’m just not in the headspace for it.” “is there anything i can do to help?” he rested his hand atop yours, a ghost of a grip on your fingers. “i—i can back off,” he nodded, hoping this was the answer. “give you space.” “i don’t think that’s going to work, jiyong.” your tone was apologetic, sincere—only for him to hear. your hand left his, fingers fixing his hair before your palm settled onto his cheek, thumb tracing his cheekbone dotingly. “i’m sorry.” you whispered. his shuddered breath of defeat wasn’t for the weak. he turned to your touch, trying to hide his face. “it wouldn’t be right to string you along.” you told him, voice gentle. “not with all the love you have to give.” he sniffled, holding his tears in. perhaps he wasn’t thinking clearly, or this was the clearest his brain has ever been—he leaned in, but you didn’t lean away. jiyong kissed you as softly as his unspoken plea. what was he asking for? he didn’t know. forgiveness? if so, then for what? not knowing you didn’t want to be in a relationship when you smiled in a way that made him want to topple empires for you? pity? perhaps it was that, considering how he didn’t hesitate to prod your tongue with his once your hand found the back of his neck—jiyong deepening the kiss.

“please.” he whispered meekly against your lips. “i’ll do anything.” once you felt his hand on your thigh, you took your lips away—pulling out the hard stops, reminding yourself why you invited him over in the first place. “that’s enough.” you spoke definitively. jiyong’s forehead fell against your temple. you kept your composure, “its over, jiyong.” you couldn’t give him another way in, turning your body to face forward, leaving him contactless next to you. you shouldn't have reached to fix his hair, but you and jiyong were over and done with now for sure—especially if you were the one cementing it into place. jiyong was beside himself, “what do i keep doing wrong?” he thought aloud. “i can’t speak for the other people you’ve dated.” you said. “the one’ll find you. its just not me.” jiyong scoffed, albeit weakly: “that’s what you think,” he said. “you haven’t even asked me when i think.” you took him up on his point, looking at him. “okay, then. what do you think?” “that i’m a nice guy who doesn’t deserve shit not working out.” he grumbled bitterly, eyes casted on your duvet. an angry tear fell through the cracks, his fingers hastily wiping it away. there it is. one of the nails in the coffin, you thought to yourself. “and i told you i love you.” “over text.” you clarified, hoping he would see your point. he didn’t: “yeah, but i told you.”

you kept your stance, not in the mood for any additional whining: “you need to be a lot more secure in yourself, jiyong. you have so much going for you, don’t waste your time making yourself the enemy.” you said. “it’ll work out one day. it just happened to not be with me.” he fell silent. you saw his eyes become glossier than before, “we can stay friends if you want.” your apologetic tone returned, though you meant your words. “i do, if it makes you feel any better. we should stay friends.” you corrected yourself. jiyong lifted his head, looking into your eyes. his hurt was palpable, “i don’t think i can stay just friends with you.” he said. your expression faltered slightly. a sympathetic grin graced your features, looking at him in a way that felt like he was the only man in the world. “you need to try.” you told him. “for me.” it took jiyong a moment, but he put his pride aside. he nodded, inhaling through his nostrils, blinking away his stubborn tears. “i will.” he spoke with conviction. “you know i’d do anything for you, right?” “i do,” you looked into his eyes. “that’s the best thing about you, jiyong.” one look at his best friend and seunghyun knew you’d done it. since the universe had a crude sense of humor, he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, too: Debate ends at nine. Come over after? he wrote back quickly, putting his phone away after jiyong set his duffle bag down: yeds.

jiyong was quiet. he mumbled something under his breath whilst doing his stretches, inhaling sharply through his nostrils after retrieving his racket from its case. tuning out their teammates dispersed throughout the athletic center’s indoor courts, seunghyun performed his service motion—thwwacckk!—effectively starting jiyong’s round of drills, as they have historically always started with him. the first set focused on his back and forehand swings, hitting the ball back to seunghyun without issue throughout those twenty shots. his recovery step was steady as he ran side to side, zeroed in like he was trying to distract himself from something—which he was. for seunghyun’s turn, jiyong served the ball with such unexpected strength that he had to skirt off to the side, dodging it. he gave jiyong a look: “dude?” “my bad.” jiyong muttered, going to grab another ball without a second thought. “if you’re gonna kill me, might as well tell me why.” seunghyun joked, hoping to lighten the mood. he walked up to the net, beckoning jiyong over with a subtle wave of his hand.

“y'know you can talk to me, ji.” “i know i can, seunghyun.” “it’ll be a waste of practice if you’re pent up like that.” “i know!” jiyong snapped. “okay? i know that. you don’t need to remind me like i’m someone’s dumbass kid.” seunghyun didn’t flinch. he gave jiyong space to breath, to pace around with his hands on his hips—a parallel to their routine bickering growing up; a testament to their respective knowledge of one another’s ticks. though seunghyun knew why jiyong was upset, he had to ask. after all, it was the brotherly thing to do. “talk to me, ji.” jiyong came to a halt, looking up. “we broke up. okay? that’s what happened.” seunghyun’s eyebrows furrowed—in another life, i’d make a good actor—“what? why? i thought things were going okay with you guys?” “that’s what i said.” jiyong shook his head. “but i guess not.” “what’d she say?” seunghyun kept his tone casual. “y'know, when she—” “—she said she couldn’t see herself in a relationship right now.”

seunghyun’s face warmed, “oh.” he nodded. he quickly ran his hand over his face, effectively stifling his amused grin. she and i really aren’t much different after all—“whatever that means. right?” “no, it makes sense.” jiyong countered. “even if i don’t agree with it, i’ve got no choice but to respect it.” “you’ll find someone better, anyway.” “i don’t know about that, man.” with that, jiyong returned to his side of the court without saying another word—his serve much less intense this time, but still holding a hefty bite. he didn’t mention it again, giving seunghyun a polite nod of thanks before heading to the showers after practice ended. the sight of his best friend looking in his eyes flashed before him prior to you opening your door, but it wasn’t strong enough to stop seunghyun from walking inside, and with a smile no less.

he slipped the condom on, tossing the wrapper into the small trash bin lodged beside your desk. you laid on your stomach in your bed—so naturally pretty, but more importantly comfortable—ass over the edge of your bed, feet on the floor; arms crossed on the duvet, your temple resting on your wrists. a long exhale of satisfaction left your nostrils, feeling seunghyun knead either of your beautiful—fucking gorgeous globes. his bottom lip was caught between his teeth, relishing over how his hands—as big as they already were—just barely were able to hold them. he tapped your right one lightly, a sound of approval leaving through his teeth at how your skin recoiled. you weren’t having it: “i know you can do better than that.” he smacked harder, hearing your gasp. you failed to bite back your pleased smile, “that’s more like it.” you giggled sweetly. his hands pushed your shirt up, palms dotingly rubbing your lower back, tenderly cascading over your rolls—carefully watching his fingers run over your stretch marks. he took his sweet time. he hasn’t seen your entire body yet, but he felt lucky from the proximity alone. to think that sculpting was invented to immortalize bodies like hers, he wasn’t sure if he remembered that fact from the art history gen-ed he took his freshman year correctly. but as far as he was concerned, it was the whole truth and nothing but. shit, i’d go to war for and build temples for her, too . . .

“i can still smell ji’s cologne in here, yknow.” “yeah?” “yeah,” seunghyun leaned down. he nudged his nose against your temple, wordlessly asking for you to turn your head towards him; another silent plea in his chaste kiss. you obliged, feeling his lips linger before kissing yours. his breath was warm against your pores, “needed me that badly, huh?” “don’t get too proud.” you said casually. you backed up an inch, hearing his breath hitch, your ass pushing against him. “f-fuck…” he sputtered, tightening his grip on your hips. “you forget how to spell words when you get all excited.” you referred to his typo from earlier. you felt and heard seunghyun chuckle into the back of your neck, coinciding with your sweet laughter. “i think i still have his hat.” you thought aloud. “for real?” said seunghyun. “mhm.” you hummed. “in the closet, maybe. on the top shelf?” seunghyun walked to the other side of your dorm, pulling the doors of your closet open. he peered up at the top shelf, smirking upon spotting the stanford tennis baseball cap lodged on top of a folded sweater.

you heard him walk back, though you didn’t feel him return behind you. you looked over your shoulder, “where did you—oh.” seunghyun was stood in front of the mirror mounted above your dresser, adjusting the cap to sit backwards on his head. “you’re horrible.” “you’re not telling me to take it off, though.” he pointed out coolly. you were stubborn, “you’re still horrible.” “you are, too.” he countered. his body warmth returned behind you, palms fondling either side of your lush waist. he leaned down to your ear, “'cause you don’t want me to talk it off, right?” it was quiet, but he heard your breath shake. “you’ve made me an honest man, so i’ll tell you that i don’t wanna take it off. is that okay with you? yeah, baby?” “yes.” you swallowed, eyes fluttering closed, mindlessly pushing your temple against his mouth. seunghyun obliged, pressing a kiss. “better fuck me like you deserve it, though.” you told him lowly. seunghyun smacked your left globe hard and unabashed, earning a hum of approval from you. “i will.” he said. he held the base of his cock, pushing his tip between your puffy lips. “you better tell me if something’s wrong.” “you’re always so self-referential.” you giggled—quickly humbled by his slow, yet delectable stretching of you out.

you spread your feet apart, allotting additional room for him, but also for you to settle in more comfortably. seunghyun caught on, “that—that better for you?” he asked, licking his lips, trying to keep his senses tangible through your gummy walls gradually swallowing him. he heard you hum in response, “push my back down. just a little,” he listened diligently, palm pressing your lower back. “maybe he can get you deeper—a-ah!” you gasped sharply. seunghyun was entirely inside, and in fact, deeper. he was completely still, trying to catch his own breath. your moan wasn’t helping. “o-oh fuck!” you whimpered in utmost satisfaction. your muscles relaxed yet you couldn't—your unsolicited wriggling sending fragmented words to his throat, resulting in a wince turned cough. “this is j-just what i—fuck!—this is just what i fucking needed, holy shit.” you bit your bottom lip, sitting up on your elbows. you turned your head, eyes peering at him in your periphery. “this alone would’ve made you a m-mom if it weren’t for the c-condom—sh-shit. . .” his licked his lips, eyebrows furrowed whilst his throat deflated into an impaired, withering whimper. “can i move? fuck, h-how are you so—” “y-yeah—yes.”

seunghyun was fighting for his life. his grip on your hips and sound of his pelvis clapping against your ass would argue otherwise—but the look on his face? with every thrust, his mouth fell more stupidly; head cocked back, visor of the baseball cap rubbing against his neck. his rhythm was consistent—purposefully egged on by your cries of pleasure and breathy encouragements, albeit fragmented from just how fucking good he was fucking you. “this is—this is j-just what i needed, s-seunghyun—ngh!” you never thought in a million years your voice could reach the pitch it just did. but with seunghyun in the picture, it felt as if anything was possible at this point. you bit your lip, taking whatever he gave you with warm welcome, not complaining whatsoever over being spoiled rotten—like you fucking deserve. “o-oh fuck!” was all he was able to conjure, slowly looking down at the scene before him. his eyebrows furrowed, breathing through his mouth, face contorting into one of pathetic sin.

his hips were relentless and strong; the athleticism on full display—watching and feeling your cheeks bounce like water in his palms. “oh fuck!” he prolonged his syllables, voice cracking. “oh f-fuck, baby—” he stopped to re-adjust himself, widening his stance to swiftly lean down to your temple, resuming his intoxicating pace soon after. you gasped, hand instinctively going into his hair, knocking the hat off his head and onto the duvet, keeping him close to you. he kissed the end of your cheekbone, lips staying there whilst he fucked you in the way you liked. “y-you’re so fucking deep,” you told him. your lips parted, eyebrows furrowed deeply and eyes squeezed shut, “feels so fucking g-good.” “oh yeah? am i?” his voice was low. the shakiness in his tone was telling, “do you—o-oh fuck yeah!” he cried out vulnerably, hips stuttering when you clenched around him. he thrusted back in hard, gifting him your relaxed posture and shaky hum of approval—melting into your libido. seunghyun leaned forward some more, hoping his next move wouldn’t strain your neck. “come here,” he pleaded. his hand came to your cheek, turning your head, meeting his lips with ease. he kept your lips together as he pounded into you again, internalizing the sound of your voice breaking against his. at some point, you couldn’t retain focus anymore: “oh f-fuck!” you cried out. “just like that seunghyunnie, just like that—” your wall-shattering gasp startled your hallmate walking past your door, laundry basket in hand, sheepishly scurrying away upon realizing you weren’t in danger whatsoever.

january and february went by faster than expected. it was the rhythmic hustle: wake up, go to class, bury your head in either your laptop screen and lined notebook paper, sleep—repeat. your senior thesis was coming along well, preparation for the national debate tournament in san francisco was steady, and you and seunghyun were practically undetectable. on days where your respective schedules aligned, he set up shop on the carpet beside your bed, solving equations and whatever the fuck for his coursework with nothing but grid notebook paper and his mechanical pencil like it was nobody’s business. perhaps it was adaptability on the tennis court manifesting in other areas of his life, because he was able to study coherently just about anywhere. the only non-negotiable was his ipod nano his parents got him for christmas—wired headphones playing either frank sinatra or wu-tang clan; there never was an in-between, mostly. he got up after a few hours, stretching his arms generously over his head. he took the two strides to your desk, gently ushering you out of your concentrative bubble with a hand on your shoulder, dotingly rubbing down your back when you turned to him with a quiet “hm?” “m'getting panera for dinner.” he said. he leaned down, lips finding your temple before your cheek. “what do you want, hm? you need to take a break.”

when you were over at seunghyun’s apartment, he cleared his desk for you in his bedroom. if he didn’t have a roommate, he would’ve made a key for you to come and go as you please. you lodged there for however long you needed: writing your senior thesis, tweaking outlines of affirmative and negative arguments written by your teammates, answering emails—anything. seunghyun learned the pacing of your schedule relatively quickly, often manifesting in keeping track of the time for you. you were twelve pages deep in an assigned reading, keen on starting its accompanying assignment after the debate meeting this evening. seunghyun returned from the kitchen, knocking on his open bedroom door, “baby?” you looked up from your highlighter. “it’s 6:45. you’ll be late if we don’t leave now.” “shit, really? okay, give me a minute.” you stood from his desk chair, packing your laptop and other materials up. when you slung the left backpack strap over your shoulder, you froze. “oh my god.” seunghyun’s face dropped a little, seeing the look on your face. he walked over, taking your backpack from you, carrying it himself. “what? is everything okay?” “i almost forgot.” you looked at him. “we start drills this weekend.” “drills?” “we—we sort ourselves into pairs,” you walked out of his bedroom, him following closely behind. “and we’re randomly assigned either the affirmative or negative for a case, and we debate each other.” you explained, pushing your feet into your shoes. “there's—there’s logistics involved. i was supposed to plan it today.”

seunghyun was quick to reassure: “it’s okay,” he unlocked the front door, ushering you to lead the way to the elevator. “you have time to do it tomorrow— even with your presentation for democratic theory.” he said before you could counter. “you can do it. i know you.” he opened the passenger’s door for you, safely tucking your backpack away in the backseat. he put his key into the ignition, backing out of his usual parking spot at his apartment complex, “the world doesn’t have shit on you, y'know.” as time went by, seunghyun wasn’t necessarily worried about your anticipated telling of jiyong. he wholeheartedly meant it when he said he trusted you completely—if i’m lucky to enough to be loved by the divine feminine herself, then i’m more than fortunate enough to trust her—and he’d rather pull his hair out one by one than be the one to tell him. on top of that, you didn’t give off the vibe of playing in his face. your stress-induced under eye bags from your workload said enough. after all, who was he to take initiative after the job’s already been taken? to his fortune, anyway, he was too busy being in love to give it much thought. he was willing to take your shared secrecy to the grave. call it delusion or devotion—he was serious. all he needed was your voice of reason to bicker with and your pussy to eat, and he’ll die a happy man.

though it was an impending eventuality, the messier side of seunghyun couldn’t help the question: does jiyong need to know? like, does he need to know that when he waved to jiyong as he did his warm-ups before practice, the reason why seunghyun was blinking so hard was because you sucked his dick so good he was trying to clear his vision even a half hour later? does jiyong need to know why seunghyun’s developed a habit of tugging at the hem of his shirt, because he so often fixes yours when the fabric bunches between the bottom of your back and top of your ass? or when he’s nervous—like before his singles game against ucla—he’s started pacing in the locker room, mentally reviewing his planned plays whilst mindlessly rubbing the tip of his ear, because that’s how you’ve lulled him to sleep before? and does he really need to know that when he invited jiyong over for dinner to catch up after a hectic start-of-the-semester apart, you were in the same chair as jiyong a couple nights ago, offering to settle a petty dispute over who got the last can of coca-cola through rock-paper-scissors? or how about twenty feet away in seunghyun’s bedroom, where he fingered your stress away that same night, telling you he loves you whilst you bless his hand with splashes of your divineness? nah, jiyong didn’t need to know shit . . .

much to your delightful surprise, you and jiyong remained friends. or were at least friendly. you saw him after picking up your bagel and iced coffee up at coho’s, unable to properly say hello as you woke up late that morning, allotting less than ten minutes to head to your democratic theory lecture a couple blocks down, but traded polite grins from across the café nonetheless. you ran into one another on your walk back to your residential building—a care package sent by your parents in your hands, having picked it up at your commons. the expected “how’ve you been?” was exchanged. the conversation was admittedly light, but when you felt the time pass, there was a bit more speed in your step after your amicable “have a good weekend,” because unbeknownst to jiyong, you were ten minutes late for meeting with seunghyun in his car to go out for dinner off campus. you quickly dropped the package off in your dorm, settling into the passenger’s seat with a huff, “sorry i’m late.” “you’re good.” said seunghyun, waving the remainder of cigarette smoke out of his open window. he reached down, spinning the crank to put the window up. “still have some time before our reservation, anyway. hey,” he beckoned. “c'mere.” you looked at him, realizing what he meant. “oh, right. sorry.” your hands held either side of his face. “hi.” you said, leaning in. “hi.” he repeated, an amused grin tugging at the corners of his lips. you closed the gap. seunghyun re-connected the kiss. from the breath of relief leaving your nostrils, he could tell it was needed.

“busy day?” “oh god—i don’t even wanna talk about it.” you shook your head. “to think, nationals in a month and a half.” you thought aloud. “and all the shit i have to do in-between and afterward.” “you’ll do it. i know you can.” “i will. but barely.” you countered. “but how about you? how was your day? did your thesis meeting with your professor go okay?” “way better than i expected. there’s not a whole bunch of edits to make, finally. for once, y'know?” said seunghyun, putting his car into drive. “really?” you put on your seatbelt. “thats wonderful, baby. i’m proud of you.” “thank you. m'proud of you, too.” he looked into the rearview mirror, spotting himself whilst backing out of the parking spot. once done, he glanced at you. “but you already knew that.” he smiled. “i know.” you grinned. “y'know i just saw jiyong? he was walking around here.” “really?” seunghyun merged into traffic, “what’s he around here for?” you shrugged your shoulders, “i don’t know. i mean, what’re you around here for?” you quipped, upside-down grin molding your lips at his playfully annoyed expression. “that’s different.” he said. “i know, i know.” you chuckled. you relaxed into your seat, looking out the windshield. “he looks like he’s doing okay.” you said. “can you attest to that?”

seunghyun nodded, his eyes on the road. “yeah.” he answered. “it doesn’t seem to, y'know, completely consume him anymore. then again, i don’t live with his brain. but still. he’s better than he was.” you hummed in acknowledgement, reading the license plates of the cars driving in front of you. “that’s good. i told him about nationals before spring break. he invited me to your match on sunday with ucla.” the car came to gradual halt, stopping at the red traffic light. “i’m guessing you said yes?” “i said i’d think about it.” you clarified, seunghyun nodding in your periphery. “but it's basically a yes.” he couldn’t help his smile, leaning his head against his seat. “you gonna wear his hat like last time?” you gave him a look, unable to hide your amusement. “look at you, stirring the pot. and what if i did?” “then i’ll have to gear up to be the best man at your guys’ wedding.” seunghyun laughed. he laughed harder when you kissed your teeth disapprovingly, “oh hell no. fuck that.” you ran your hand over your face, feeling the car move again. “but i’m coming. at two, right?” “mhm.” seunghyun confirmed. “it's about time you see your boyfriend play, anyway.” “my two boyfriends.” you muttered, grinning sweetly hearing his laughter. “yeah,” seunghyun smiled grandly, playing into the joke. “your two proud boyfriends.”

the world split into two in march 2006—one being you, lodged in a hotel room in san francisco for the weekend, going back and forth between your teammates’ rooms to review arguments and strategies before heading to the convention center where nationals were held; the other housing seunghyun and jiyong in an almost empty snack bar on campus, cheeks flushed after an intense doubles match against uc irvine. though it wasn’t unfamiliar, either of their bodies felt the weight of their intensified regiment—both seunghyun and jiyong having played grueling singles matches earlier in the week, with another scheduled right before spring break. seunghyun sat in front of the windows in the snack bar, staring at his phone in his lap: Good luck today baby I love you so much he read his text for the nth time, but not as much as your response: I love you too!! good luck w irvine:) Call u tonight muah. jiyong came over with churros in both hands, seeing seunghyun on his phone. he put it away casually before anything could be seen, though what jiyong asked gave him a slight heart attack: “meet someone new?” he handed seunghyun a churro, sitting down in the stool next to him. seunghyun accepted, turning around and placing his elbows on the table behind them. “what? oh. nah.” he shook his head. he took a bite of his churro, other hand wiping the sugar grains from the corner of his mouth. “just something about my study group this weekend.” “oh, yeah. you did mention your midterm earlier.” jiyong thought aloud, nodding.

they talked as they usually did. jiyong turned around, resting his elbows like seunghyun. it was when he reached up to scratch an itch on his eyebrow did his expression suddenly sour. “shit,” he cursed under his breath—a slight stinging sensation on his temple. “you good?” seunghyun asked. “yeah, i think—i think i got sunburned.” jiyong’s fingers gingerly felt his forehead. his skin was irritated, confirming his suspicions. seunghyun took a bite of his churro before leaning in to get a better look, “doesn’t look too red.” he observed. “did you put on enough sunblock?” “i did, but i guess the humidity fucked me over today.” said jiyong, hearing seunghyun hum in acknowledgement. “doesn’t feel too bad, though.” jiyong muttered. “aloe vera’ll fix it up. i need my hat back.” “back?” seunghyun knew damn well, but he would be remiss to not keep himself in the safe zone—though the memory of your cheeks clapping made him adjust his posture in his seat. “did you lose it? that shit was glued to your head, man.” he chuckled. jiyong finished his churro, dusting his hands off underneath the table. “i left it with her.” he spoke in-between chewing. “you think i could get it back?” “sure.” seunghyun nodded, a grin tugging at his mouth. “if you ask nicely, of course.”

jiyong tried to give seunghyun a look, but his smile betrayed him. “very funny. ha-ha.” he chuckled. jiyong felt leftover sugar on his hand, shoving seunghyun’s face with his palm. seunghyun let out a hearty laugh, carefully wiping his cheek after finishing his churro. “y'know,” jiyong started. “i’ve been thinking.” “uh-oh.” seunghyun quipped, smiling at jiyong’s tsk of annoyance. “shut up,” said jiyong. “but for real. y'know how we have our—our end of season banquet, right?” “right.” jiyong fell silent, suddenly overcome with sheepishness. “you’re gonna have to spit it out at some point, ji.” “i know, i know.” jiyong shook his head, trying to level himself. “its just that—” he sighed. “maybe this is just pathetic of me to say. but i was thinking of inviting her.” seunghyun didn’t question it. he wanted to know more. “like as a plus one?” “yeah. i think the registry’s still open.” jiyong responded so quickly it was as if he cut seunghyun off. he looked at him, worried. his next question cemented it: “that's weird, right?” “was it weird when she came to our game against ucla?” seunghyun asked. jiyong shook his head, “no.” he answered earnestly. “but i did spent the entire time wishing we were still together, though.” seunghyun smiled proudly, putting his arm around jiyong’s shoulders. “you fucking snake.” he said. “i didn’t know you had it in you.” this’ll be fun, his inner monologue voiced. jiyong was visibly confused, yet his half-smile contradicted himself. “what? have what in me?”

“it's exciting seeing you this way, ji.” said seunghyun. “and no, i don’t think its weird, personally.” “i’m not—” jiyong went to say something, but seunghyun talked over him—committed to the bit. “its what’s been missing from your tennis.” “what?” seunghyun’s arm returned to his side, “it's nice to see you lit-up about something. even if that something’s your ex-girlfriend. you said she wanted to be friends when you broke up, right?” after he shoved his tongue down his throat, she did seunghyun’s inner monologue reminded him, remembering your play-by-play of what went down. jiyong nodded, “yeah, she did. but i don’t know if this is too forward or something.” “nah, not at all.” seunghyun shook his head. he jutted his bottom lip—perhaps too animated—but with how jiyong looked genuinely concerned, he flew right under the radar. “you don’t think i’m crazy?” jiyong asked, vulnerable. seunghyun’s face dropped a little, recognizing the look in his best friend’s eyes. the lingering hurt—the yearning. jiyong wasn’t over you. it didn’t look like he would be anytime soon. seunghyun could only say so much, having to hold himself back from the protective jealousy stirring in his chest, choosing his words carefully: “it's not considered crazy to be in love, ji.” unbeknownst to jiyong, seunghyun speaking for himself: “it's not crazy to want someone, either.”

the tournament wasn’t a sweep though stanford placed highly nonetheless. you celebrated with dinner and drinks at the end of that long weekend—delightfully surprised after your teammates prepared a graduation gift for their president, along with sentimental speeches that might’ve (just might’ve) made your eyes misty with gratitude. you hid it well behind your margarita, anyway. you walked into your hotel room at half past eleven that sunday night. packing would be rushed in the morning before boarding the bus back to stanford—for now, you just needed the quiet. you kicked your loafers off, set your gift bag down by the television, sitting on the edge of your unmade hotel bed. you leaned to your right, raising your left thigh, fishing your sidekick out of the back pocket of your black dress trousers—too tired to change out of your debate garb just yet. it's not too late, you thought to yourself. seunghyun’s definitely still awake. you scrolled through your notifications, seeing a few texts here and there, eyebrows furrowing seeing a missed call from jiyong a couple hours ago. “huh?” there was a voicemail from him, too. you pressed play, bringing your phone to your ear.

you heard a bicycle bell, followed by the skid of his sneakers against the sidewalk. “hi! this is—uh, this is jiyong,” his pause told you he didn’t know why he said his name. “i hope you've—i hope you’ve been doing good. i wanted to call to wish you good luck at your debate comp. i saw a flyer about it at coho’s, but i wasn’t sure of the time. i hope i didn’t call you when you were on stage or something. that would be really bad,” he chuckled nervously. “a-anyway,” he cleared his throat. “i’m calling ‘cause there’s this—there’s this thing we have in tennis. at the end of the season. well, a lot of if not all the athletic departments do it—but it's a seasonal banquet. there’s, like, food and awards and shit but i was wondering if . . . if—uh, if you’d want to come? it's on june 3rd—the sunday before graduation. totally no pressure. there’s lots of room for plus ones, so don’t worry about that if you want to come. people do it all the time. my parents won’t be able to come out here until graduation, so it’d be nice to have someone i know there. besides seunghyun. we'd—we’d go as friends, of course. i—i get it if you think its weird,” he descended into a characteristic ramble. “i mean, i would too. maybe. but i asked seunghyun about it,” your eyebrows raised. “and he didn't—he didn’t think it was odd. but of course what matters most is what you want. so, let me know? if you—if you want? yeah. you have—you have my number. i hope your comp went well.”

well that was something, you thought to yourself. it seemed relatively harmless, though you just knew seunghyun had something to do with this. he was mentioned twice, you recalled, what a fucking deviant. you didn’t think about your decision too much. you listened to your gut, noticing how there wasn’t a tug towards desired safety, nor the toxic nip of curiosity to just see what happens. your logic perhaps voiced the concern of this not being one of your best decisions … but if anything, the greedy part of your brain took to the frontlines: who wouldn’t want free food and two fine ass men feigning over you in silence? you turned your sidekick horizontally, lifting the screen to reveal the tactile keyboard. jiyong’s nokia vibrated in his pocket, showing seunghyun his screen with glee. “she said yes!” he exclaimed. if he didn’t know any better, seunghyun would’ve thought jiyong proposed. “for real?” he leaned forward, reading Hi! I got your voicemail. I’d love to go :) Send me details. he smirked, “you asked her over voicemail?” jiyong was quick to defend himself, “she didn’t answer her phone.” seunghyun chuckled, swiftly pulling his phone out. you received a slew of texts, one after the other: At jis do pnot call; i will call u latyer; How ur day; I lov youp. you smirked at your screen. seunghyun’s phone buzzed in his hand a minute later, having to control his warming face whilst jiyong ordered the pizza: You’re not slick. I love you more

the closer it got to graduation, the closer you came to the brink. those deadlines were horrendous, making you choose between completing coursework or up-keeping personal hygiene on particularly rough days. debate and graduation prep on your end were done. all that was left was perfecting and submitting your senior thesis, finishing those last few assignments that just happened to be dense as fuck, and preparing for finals. it took a toll on you. after the third day of falling off the face of the earth after the usual Good morning text, seunghyun had enough, too. there was enough on his plate already as a collegiate athlete: consistent games, demanding physical regiment, initiating the transition to go pro—coupled with his own academic pursuits. but if he’s learned anything these last five months, it's that there’s always room for you. no matter what. your phone dinged! at the library, startling you and eliciting disapproving looks from others deep in their studies. you turned your ringer off, reading the text from seunghyun. you had only just realized it was well past midnight, Baby u still at the library? Yes, you wrote back, A lot to do. your phone vibrated a minute later, Youve been there way too much. Its worrying me. you smirked at your screen, Didnt know u were so charitable. only for him to respond, Im being serious.

when twenty minutes went by with no answer, seunghyun called you. it didn’t take him long to pick up his keys after being sent to voicemail, taking the elevator down to his apartment building’s parking lot. an hour and some change later, at around half past one, the head librarian on your floor came on the sound system, announcing the library would be closing in a half hour. you checked the time on your phone, seeing a text from seunghyun: Librarys closing soon. you typed back, I know. Heading home now. seunghyun spotted you walking out of the front entrance. thank god she chose that one, his inner monologue muttered. he left his seat on the bench, “baby?” he called out, jogging over to you. you weren’t sure if it was the sleep deprivation playing a trick on you, slowly turning around and seeing the voice certainly matched who you thought it belonged to. your eyebrows furrowed: “what?” you muttered in a bit of disbelief. “what—what’re you doing here? it's almost two am.” “i could say the same to you.” he said. his hand came up to your cheek, bending down to kiss the other. “where’re you going?” “my dorm?” you said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “but you need to relax.” “i can relax in my dorm.” seunghyun loved your stubbornness as it often complemented his, but in times like these, he felt like he played the role of a husband: “nah, nah.” he tutted, shaking his head through your disapproving tsk. “look at me, baby. c'mere.” he leaned down, softly pressing his lips against yours—satisfied in feeling you kiss him back, even more so when your hands came up to hold his face in your palms.

seunghyun ended the kiss just as gently as he started it, resting his forehead against yours. “it's been a week since i last saw you.” he spoke lowly. “i miss you real bad, baby.” he didn’t need you to tell him you missed him, too. he felt it in how you aligned your nose to nuzzle next to his—in how your breath from your parted lips breathed life back into him, your touch behind his neck so poetically familiar. “fine.” you told him definitively. “but you better have something to eat. i haven’t had dinner yet.” and he did. well, as far as kraft mac and cheese and reheated ready-made garlic bread can go. he gave you a pair of his briefs (“don’t look at me like that—they’re freshly washed. probably still warm from the dryer. plus, you’ve had my dick inside you. so it's not that much different.”) and a loose-fitting tee as makeshift pajamas. the shirt was too snug of a fit to your liking to sleep in, so you opted just to stay in your cami. not that seunghyun was complaining whatsoever—there was a sweet grin on his face as he tucked himself into bed next to, over-the-moon to knock the fuck out next to you after a long ass day.

you weren’t sure if it was the white noise of the air-conditioning, the darkness of seunghyun’s bedroom, your head hitting the pillow next to his, or how tenderly he wrapped his arms around you underneath his duvet, dotingly loving you with his warmth—but you were brought to tears; overwhelmed by how much had been on your shoulders these past few months, this week being the absolute worst without question. it felt now that your mind finally had a moment in the quiet, it took the opportunity to remind you where you are. it didn’t feel good. it felt malicious. enough to turn your face and sink into your pillow in shame, body trembling whilst you cried. seunghyun sprung into action: lifting his head up from his pillow, making out your silhouette in the dark. “hey,” he called softly, afraid to speak above a whisper. “baby—hey. hey,” his lips found the back of your shoulder. he heard your muffled cries, “oh no.” he tutted gently, sympathetic. “oh no, my baby. c'mere. at least let me hold you.” you slowly turned into his chest, grateful he couldn’t see your face in the dark. his palm found the back of your head, bringing your forehead to his lips. “what's going on, hm?” how tender his voice was just made you cry harder. you tried to get yourself together. “tell me, baby. i’ve never seen you like this before. it hurts.” “i’m fine.” you cleared your throat, wiping your cheeks with the back of your hand. “i guess—i guess once i, like, settled down or whatever,” you sniffled. “my brain just . . . i don’t know . . . reminded me of how crazy everything’s been.”

seunghyun hummed in understanding. “i just don’t know how—” you cut yourself off, trying to abstain from crying again. you failed, feeling your sinus loosen and bottom lip quiver, “i just don’t know how i’m gonna do it all, seunghyun.” he held you tighter to him, feeling your muffled sob into his shirt. “you will.” he assured, lips kissing your temple. “you’ve made it this far. there’s no reason for you to not go farther. you’re the smartest person i’ve fucking ever met, you know that? hm?” his hand rubbed soothingly up and down your back, leaning down to press kisses onto your shoulder. “you talk your shit in circles around me daily.” he chuckled. you felt him smile into the supple, plush skin of your arm. you took a few deep inhales, trying to steady your heartbeat. “i’m not usually like this.” you muttered. “doesn’t matter if you cry everyday or not at all.” he said. “however you feel is human.” “i’ve never seen you cry.” “not yet.” countered seunghyun, lips returning to your forehead. his fingers swept your cheeks, collecting remnants of your fallen tears. “if i think about it long enough,” he whispered to you. “you crying’ll make me cry.” his words struck a chord in you, loosening your sinuses for a different reason. you reached for his temple, fingers combing through his hair, pulling him to your lips. “i love you.” your voice quivered in its whisper. “tenderly.” “i love you tenderly too, baby.” he reconnected your lips, “my baby. my beautiful baby.”

seunghyun’s senses awoke to his bladder intruding his rem cycle. his haphazard glance into the kitchen, eyeing the time on the stove, let him know it was half past seven in the morning. returning to his bedroom, he was met with an unwelcome surprise. you were up and out of bed, already dressed in your clothes from the night before, packing your backpack at his desk. “what’re you doing?” he mumbled, voice riddled with lingering sleep. “it's so early.” “the library opens soon—” you cut yourself off with a yawn, putting your laptop in its sleeve. “i have to go.” “you were just crying about being there, like, five hours ago, baby.” “crying doesn’t make it disappear, now does it?” you responded without looking up, sifting through the other pockets of your backpack to ensure you had everything you needed—mentally writing a to-do list for the day. seunghyun walked up behind you, fixing your shirt before sneaking his hand underneath the hem, warm palm settling onto your hip. “c'mon, baby. just stay for a little while.” “seunghyun, i have a—” “—an hour or two won’t hurt, y'know.” he said. he leaned down—pressing slow, purposeful kisses on your neck. satisfied chills ran down your spine. you actively tried to fight your fluttering eyes, or how your knees buckled slightly. but then seunghyun’s hand traveled past your stomach, gingerly kneading your breast through your cami. he knows every fucking thing about me, your inner monologue tsked.

your hand reached for his hair, feeling him hum against your supple skin in approval. “that’s right.” he encouraged. “feel me here with you—just like that.” he ushered you to his bed, telling you to “get comfortable f'me. it's gonna be a while, baby.” seunghyun unbuttoned your jeans, tugged your underwear off too, tossing both onto his carpeted floor. you spread your legs like muscle memory, watching him kiss down your inner thigh—taking his sweet, dedicated time with his favorite part of your plushness. his lips were slow on that soft pouch, cheeks relishing in how warm you felt against him. “so fucking beautiful, baby,” he whispered, inching closer to where you needed him the most, and where he wanted to be. “pussy’s fucking divine.” he ate you out like never before, rendering you speechless. his tongue did all the work, mouth latching onto those sweet, puffy lips of yours. his ministrations were slow and deliberate, making sure you felt every flick of his tongue against your clit, every swipe when he flattened it against you, every lap when he got greedy—or most importantly, his muffled whines whenever you tugged his hair. “f-fuck,” he sputtered into you, trying to re-focus on sucking your clit. “f-fuck, baby”. at some point, you were frozen—legs cemented in a spread, helpless to how good you felt. your eyes were closed, mouth hung open, so caught up in the pleasure you forgot to arch your back. it was as if your body didn’t know what to do, only able to speak in a language of light whimpers and broken whispers of your boyfriend’s name—one hand curled around nothing, the other now lifeless in his hair.

seunghyun slurped and suckled in content, ready to do this all fucking day if need-be. he took his sweet time, relishing in your sweet whimpers, humming in satisfaction the wetter you became, making sure you heard him swallow whenever he came up for a breath. it felt good to know his baby felt good and that he was the one doing it. he missed the feeling of your thick thighs clenching around his head, though. even so, he deduced you felt so good you couldn’t move. i know thats fucking right, his inner monologue commended. “i don’t take this for granted.” he said between lapping your clit. “i know how lucky i am. m’gonna start praying to this pussy if that’s what it takes.” your breath hitched suddenly and loudly. your toes curled into his duvet, hips bucking up unexpectedly, unintentionally making him latch off. before you could rush a hazy apology, he beat you to it: “its okay, its okay.” his voice was quiet—tender. you let out a prolonged whimper, effectively wordless—just needing him. you can’t remember the last time you felt so loved, so cared for, doted on in such a vulnerable state. “i got you.” his palms rubbed your thighs, the divots and crevices of your divine cellulite making love to his fingers. he felt up your bare stomach, sneaking underneath your cami, fingers etching over stretch marks—cascading down your supple rolls before returning to your thighs. “seunghyun’s got you, baby. relax for me.” he kissed your inner thigh. “relax f'me. lemme make love to you.”

you regained consciousness when you came, back arching into damn near oblivion. “fuck!” your voice broke. you let out an airy cry, unable to conjure something more guttural—too enraptured in your dream-like state. you felt a dip in the bed, grounded by a kiss to your cheek. seunghyun hovered above you, hands propping him up. “i love you, baby.” he told you sweetly, a second kiss inching closer to your mouth. “i love you, too.” your voice was almost non-existent, staying in a whisper, as if your subconscious was afraid that if you spoke too loudly, your sanctuary would be disturbed. your hand slipped up the side of his neck, bringing his lips to yours. “you bring me back to life . . .” you said breathily, inhaling through your nostrils. seunghyun’s open mouth hovered above yours hungrily, whimpering into the kiss at your words. he was annoyingly hard in his boxers, but stayed kissing you ever so slowly—at your pace. you could’ve sworn you felt the warmth of the sun when his tongue prodded yours, kissing him with increased fervor—your strength returning. “you’ve changed my life for the better.” he muttered against your lips. you whimpered, seunghyun tilting his head to deepen the kiss in return. “the least i can do is take care of you. right? yeah?” “mhm.” you hummed, keeping him tethered to you. “good.” he gradually separated your lips, satisfied in your shallow, yet quiet breath. he leaned into your touch, nuzzling his nose into your palm, kissing your warmth. “then let seunghyunnie take care of you, hm?”

he pushed your shirt up for the hem to rest under your neck. he laid between your legs, stomach aligning with yours, propping himself up with his elbow, palm against his temple. his right hand snuck underneath your cami, watching himself caress your right breast—able to feel it, but not see it entirely. you sucked in a breath, eyes on his hand underneath the fabric, watching a small peak form in the shape of your hardened nipple in real time. your areola was lodged between his pointer and middle finger, a gasp inflating your lungs as seunghyun leaned down, running his tongue repeatedly over your clothed nipple. after a few more, he took a look. “yeah.” he confirmed quietly to himself— working you up. his hand slipped from underneath your cami, tugging it down enough to let your breast breath. he didn’t waste any time in making only the top of his head visible, capturing your nipple between his lips and making love to it with his tongue. he hummed in content, encouraged by your hand in his hair, enraptured by your moans. “o-oh my god!” you whispered. you were stuck on an inhale, breathing when he popped off. “let me hear you.” was all he said when he went to your left breast, angling his head so you could see what he was doing. you watched his tongue nurture your areola, mouth hung up as he kissed your stretch marks before diving back in. “f-fuck…” your voice trailed. “thats so fucking good.” his dick twitched in his boxers, “y-yeah?” it is, baby?“ his syllables were half-finished as he spoke in the midst of his ministrations, but the eye contact with lethal. he got the message when your fingers carded through his hair, sucking like the good boy he is—spoiling you like you deserve.

the birds chirped as he reached for a condom, shutting the drawer of his nightside table. he made love to you the only way he knew how: with purpose. you kissed one another like lost souls reunited after centuries apart. his thrusts were intentionally slow, hardening upon feeling the ball of your foot rest on his lower back, fueling either his and your pathetic whimpers into each other’s mouths. his speed didn’t falter—wanting to not only take his time, but also speak to you without talking. he meant it when he said you’ve changed him for the better; the sun shines brighter and he suddenly believes he was put on this earth to love you and only you. but when he looks at you, his words get lost between his brain and throat. he’s better at expressing those more sentimental thoughts in writing—like the paragraphs he wrote in the card with fresh roses and daisies before you left for nationals—or in things considered mundane to the passerby but are quintessential in your shared lives: remembering when your meetings are, knowing whether to play lenny kravitz or mazzy star in his car depending on your mood, reminding him to take his supplements before going to morning practices, and introducing him to the world of skincare—even if he thought you were fancy for just using a moisturizer—or just filling you up.

you broke the kiss, mouth hovering his. "oh fuck,” you whined, biting your bottom lip. he hit all the places you needed—that were begging for it—the swivel of his hips telling you he knew what the fuck he was doing; he was the only one who knew you this well. “that feel good?” his breath shook. “yeah?” “yeah,” you nodded, looking at him with heavy eyelids. “so good, s-seunghyunnie.” your hands felt past either side of his neck, mindlessly pawing his back before messily carding through his hair. seunghyun kissed you deeply and with more fervor, soon translating that to his hips. he put more weight on his knees, thrusting faster than before, encouraged by your breathy moan. his bed made noise with every dip of his knees. not that he was moving crazily, but just the right amount to keep your mind deeply intertwined with your delectable libido, stretching you out in a way that feels it should be written in scripture—or just plain common sense, really. his bed frame was also aged and couldn’t withstand much motion without letting everyone else in the apartment know, like his roommate who just woke up down the hall.

“my beautiful baby, so f-fucking stressed out,” seunghyun murmured, hearing and feeling his balls intermittently slap against you. “so overworked, so—hngh!—t-tired f-fuck—” your gummy walls clenched around him, dizzying his senses. he took a deep breath, making the bed creak again. “it's unfair.” he panted, shaking his head. “the least you can let me do is take care of you. that's—t-thats the least i can fuckin’ do, baby—oh my f-fucking god,” he looked down, watching the way your thick thighs jiggled with every thrust. your puffy lips swallowed him deliciously, blessing him with a newfound sixth sense—a peek into the divine feminine herself. he looked at you, eyelids heavier than before. you looked beautiful. hair a mess, a light coat of sweat shining on your forehead, mouth agape, but most importantly relaxed. at ease. spoiled fucking rotten. i’ll do anything to keep her this way, he thought to himself. “w-why don’t you let me, huh? why won’t you let your seunghyunnie m-make you f-feel good? make you forget everything? huh?” he pleaded. he was completely at your helm, evident in the quiver in his voice, and how his lips hovered on your temple. your hand came up to the back of his head, keeping him there. “if—if you w-won’t use me—f-fuck—then i’ll give myself to you.” your eyes rolled to the back of your head, feeling him fuck you deeper as your back arched—your chest smushing against his. “h-how’s that sound, baby? huh? h-how's—how’s that—” “oh, fuck!” you cried out, eyebrows contorted sinfully. his mouth fell open at the sight, bed creaking louder. “fuck me, j-just like that—ngh!”

he tucked his arms underneath your knees, lifting your legs up a few inches. he came to a sudden halt following his first thrust in the new position—one reason being your wall-shattering gasp, the other the need to bring himself back down to earth; uncross his eyes with a handful of harsh blinks. “i’ve never—” you swallowed, mouth dry. your chest heaved, “i’ve n-never felt that b-before—fuck!” you gasped. the feeling was indescribable—arguably too strong. “stop! stop—don’t move!” “sorry!” seunghyun blurted out, panicking slightly. he tried his best not to fidget. “sorry, baby. my bad. do you—oh, f-fuck—do you w-want to stay like this? we could go back to—back to missionary.” “i—i don’t know,” you thought aloud. “i-it feels . . . good. just really fucking intense.” “i get that.” seunghyun nodded. “holy shit, do i get that.” “try a few thrusts.” “a-are you sure?” you nodded, “wanna see how it f-feels.” seunghyun listened. you thought bitches were making shit up, but your ass saw stars. black spots littered your vision. you went mute. seunghyun’s arms were shaking, looking like he needed an oxygen tank. “do you—” he sounded perishable. “d-d-do you—you want me to keep—” “your ass better move.”

neither of you lasted long. that condom was begging to be freed, so creamy and wet, its usage as a protective barrier felt useless. but with those reports of an upcoming recession? no way in hell were you planning on having a baby anytime soon. not that seunghyun didn’t fuck you like he was ready to become a father tomorrow, though. “oh fuck!” he cried aloud, face scrunched up in one of delectable sin, “oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck! yeah! y-yeah! oh fuck yeah!” he babbled dumbly, drooling leaking out of the corner of his mouth, fucking your tight pussy at what felt before like an unimaginable angle. “f-feel me? feel that, baby? o—oh my god!” he whimpered, drawing out his syllables. you were silent—everything you needed to say etched in your furrowed eyebrows and hung mouth. he was hitting places that felt dangerous. you ascended into something otherworldly, crying out his name like he’s never heard before. “s-seunghyun! o-oh my god—seunghyun!” you were wholly aware of your body, feeling your toes curl in the air and your back arch into oblivion, but lost in your illustriously carnal haze. seunghyun felt something wet. his vision blurred, seeing your squirt splashing onto his bed, pussy squelching with his thrusts. his stomach caved inward, “i’m gonna fucking marry you.” he whimpered pathetically. “i’m gonna fucking marry—o-oh fuck me!”

come june, you were born anew. senior thesis submitted, no more assignments, and final exams completed. all that was left was the end-of-season banquet, moving out, and graduation. it wasn’t much in comparison to the hustle you were used to, but with the sudden copious amount of free time you had, it felt like it couldn’t come soon enough. you couldn’t do much in terms of clearing out your dorm until your parents were set to arrive a couple days before graduation later in the week—seunghyun has hidden his amused smirk overhearing your bickering regarding travel and dinner plans whilst on the phone with them—so you filled your time by making your boyfriend take you to the mall, dodging his sneaky kisses whilst an associate tried their best to help you pick an outfit for your ceremony. “i almost forgot you can’t take me tonight.” you said to seunghyun over the phone sunday morning. “i was about to ask what time you’d pick me up.” “s'become natural instinct, i guess.” he said. his shoulder kept his blackberry to his ear, hands sorting through his hangers. he pulled his long sleeve black button-up from his closet, making a mental note to iron it for this evening. “you think romeo and juliet felt like this?” you raised an eyebrow though he couldn’t see you, “like the shakespearean couple?” “is there another one i don’t know about?” he retorted smartly, chuckling. “i think their dynamic was a bit more complicated than ours.” you said. “like, there’s was do-or-die. and they died.” “i’d die for you.” “now will that be before or after we graduate?”

seunghyun let out a hearty laugh, making you smile. you felt your phone vibrate in your hand, “hold on, baby. think i got a text.” you flipped your screen to reveal the keyboard. you did get a message, and it was from jiyong: Hi :) Do u have a ride tn? I can drive u if no. you grinned, thumbs already working: Works for me. 6:30? you flipped your screen down, returning your phone to your ear. “guess who’s hitching a ride with her ex.” seunghyun raised his eyebrows, “for real? ji texted you?” “mhm.” “he wants you back, y'know.” “i know.” you said, mind sifting through his recollection of their conversation when you were in san francisco. “you told me.” there was a brief pause on his end of the line, “are you gonna tell him about us on the ride there?” you made a face, “and have him crash the car and kill us both?” seunghyun ran his hand over his face, “you’re right.” “i’m going to tell him before graduation.” you said earnestly, hearing seunghyun hum in acknowledgement. “college of liberal arts is on thursday, anyway. so i still have time. it’ll be too brash—too much if i tell him tonight.” “you’re right, you’re right.” seunghyun nodded. “i sometimes forgot you’re the logical one of us both.” “then i must not be that effective if you forget.” you quipped, hearing him chuckle. “sorry, i just—” he huffed. “i just get greedy, baby.” “you’ve been greedy.” you corrected him. “can you blame me?” he asked. you looked up, seeing your reflection in the mirror mounted above your dresser. “no.” you said, a sheepish grin tugging at the corner of your lips. “i can’t.”

“but listen.” you continued. “i need you to promise me something.” “anything.” seunghyun said without hesitation. “just say the word.” “if jiyong tries anything tonight, you need to not act afool.” “what do you mean?” you huffed, pinching the bridge of your nose. “you know exactly what i’m talking about, seunghyun. like, if he has a look in his eyes. or tries to kiss to me or—” “—he’s gonna try to kiss you? since when?” “you said he wanted me back.” you made your argument. “do the math. especially since we both know how he can be.” “okay,” seunghyun went into his argument. “but what’s this about him kissing you?” “i’m just saying that if—” “—he won’t do that shit with me there.” seunghyun shook his head, kissing his teeth. “listen to me.” you said sternly. “hence the use of and my emphasis on the word if. i’m not going to let it get that far,” you said. “but if—and i mean if—there’s even a hint of an iota of a semblance of that behavior from him—even a fucking suggestive twinkle in his eye—you need to keep it together.” you heard him take a long breath, stubborn in his silence. “there is not going to be a scene at your banquet tonight. not on my watch, anyway.” you said. “do you hear me?” you were met with silence. “own up to it.” his posture stiffened. “i’m going tonight because of you. don’t sulk now.” “i’ll try my best.” he said, only to hear you tut disapprovingly. “no. i need a yes. absolute and nothing but.” “yes,” he answered. “i’ll behave.” you let out a breath of relief, “thank you. i love you.” “i love you. too much. at the same time it doesn’t feel like enough.” “it does. it will always be enough.”

jiyong arrived at your residential building right on time, waiting for you whilst stood outside his car. he was clad in a dark gray suit with matching trousers, seeing you in your go-to debate ensemble—a matching black blazer and trouser set—freshened up with accented jewelry. he greeted you with a hug. you returned the polite embrace, feeling bad in having to hold your laughter back, thinking of how if seunghyun were here, steam might’ve been coming out of his ears. you caught a glimpse of the backseat as you settled into the passenger’s, swift flashes of what went down just months ago flurrying your mind. “you look really nice.” jiyong told you with a smile, putting his key into the ignition. “thank you.” you nodded. “you look handsome, too.” “thanks.” he said. “thanks for coming with me tonight, too. i know this is probably not what you wanna do right after finals.” he let out a nervous chuckle, merging onto the street. you shook your head in assurance, “its fine, jiyong. it doesn’t have to be awkward if we don’t make it be.” “that’s true.” he nodded. you made friendly small talk during the fifteen minute car ride, pulling into the hotel housing the ballroom hosting the banquet.

conversation continued after jiyong put his car in park, trading chuckles and half-baked jokes. it was the brightest and widest he’d smiled in what felt like forever. “i’m really happy you came.” he spoke honestly, tone sincere. he met your eyes, “i missed you.” the words could have meant nothing—a friend platonically doting on the other. but with eyes like jiyong’s, there was no such thing as speaking plainly. complicated sentiment was the only option. his gaze softened, unabashedly keeping you tethered to him. his expression didn’t hold the insatiable weight of pleading, but it was just sad. perhaps a bit of relief? you thought to yourself, noticing the small breath parting his lips; how his posture molded with the driver’s seat. a moment lasting seconds felt akin to hours—stuck in time. there it was, that look in his eyes. “i—” a car honked. you and jiyong looked out the windshield at the same time. seunghyun waved to the both of you from his car, cigarette hanging between his lips. jiyong chuckled, waving back. you didn’t flinch, turning away from the window when seunghyun pulled into the spot next to jiyong’s car. he tossed his cigarette onto the asphalt, putting it out with his foot. he looked up, amused at the sight of you and jiyong stepping out of the land rover. “did i miss the memo or what?” “hm?” jiyong’s eyebrows furrowed. seunghyun gestured between you two with his pointer finger, “you two back together?”

you refrained from closing your eyes in frustration. seunghyun relished in it, smile widening. “oh—” jiyong cut himself off, growing sheepish. he glanced at you as if with the hope you would say yes. “n-no. just friends.” he shook his head, looking at his best friend. seunghyun nodded, “my bad.” on the walk to the hotel’s front entrance, jiyong was called over by a group of friends who had just arrived then, too. once he was a good distance away, seunghyun walked next to you. “you can speak when in my presence, y'know.” he quipped discreetly, glancing at his surroundings. you did the same, keeping your eyes ahead, “i know.” he turned his head to the left, looking down at you, “you look really beautiful tonight.” “i know i do.” you said swiftly, hearing him chuckle. “that’s my girl, alright.” he muttered to himself. “go talk to him,” you told seunghyun. “alright, alright.” he kissed his teeth playfully, clearly enjoying this. “i love you.” he blurted, loud enough for only you to hear. you held yourself back from telling him off, seeing him quickly turn around, sticking his tongue out before catching up to jiyong.

the universe had a cruel sense of humor. you could feel god herself giggling down at you, clinking glasses of chardonnay with her fellow deities as you sat between jiyong and seunghyun—in the same order as the night at the hotel, no less; jiyong on your right, seunghyun to your left. there were three athletes sitting across the table from you—a layout mimicked all throughout the ballroom. the banquet began with speeches from coaches and department heads, allotting time for dinner before awards were to be handed out. in the middle of someone’s speech, your phone vibrated in your pocket—a text from your mom, asking if you had eaten dinner yet. you responded, changing to a different conversation. seunghyun’s blackberry vibrated in his pocket. he hesitated to check, glancing at jiyong, whom was listening intently to whoever was speaking. seunghyun then looked at you, seeing your phone was away, your attention undeterred as well. I love you too btw he read, upside down grin on his face at your reference to earlier. Youre on the same side like at the hotel. his face warmed, putting his phone away. a few moments later, you felt something graze the side of your thigh. it was seunghyun—discreetly gesturing to let him fix the back of your blazer. you leaned forward in your seat just enough to let his hand through. he swiftly tugged at the bottom hem, flattening the fabric neatly to mold with your curves. his palm gingerly cascaded down your thigh afterward, settling back into his own lap.

there were a few times during the opening program where jiyong turned to you, smiling as he said something seunghyun couldn’t hear. it was usually followed by a chuckle from your end, or you gesturing jiyong to come closer to say something seunghyun also couldn’t hear. it looked and was friendly—but could you blame him for how he needed to force himself to look away, inhaling sharply through his nostrils, and clenching his jaw in muted frustration? seunghyun understood that to jiyong, you and him weren’t friendly like that, so it makes sense as to why you wouldn’t talk. but not even a spare glance? his thoughts wallowed. or a polite grin? he knew you meant business. in fact, thats the quality he loves utmost about you. you set him straight when he needs it, talk your shit in a way he’s never heard before, and made him into a more honest man. there’s no getting any bullshit passed you—not that he would dare, anyway. so he sat there, quiet. unassuming. on good behavior, like you told him to. he would reap his rewards any way he could. if it meant receiving a waft of your perfume every time you fixed your hair—he’d take it.

when the banquet broke for dinner, you and jiyong went to one side of the catering whereas seunghyun went to the other, luckily distracted by a few athletes he was friendly with at the bar. he really was trying, and you felt it. jiyong introduced you to his friends whenever they came up to him to say hello—each “no, we’re not dating,” more awkward than before. you returned to your table some time later equipped with a plate full of food. jiyong was pulled off to one of his friends’ tables, promising he would meet back with you soon. to your delight, seunghyun was the only one at your table, downing the last sip of his rum and coke. “i see you’ve made the most of your drink vouchers.” you grinned, twirling your spaghetti with your fork. you took a bite, hearing him chuckle sweetly. “you’re finally talking to me.” his syllables slurred a little. you wiped sauce off your lip with a napkin, “how’re you already tipsy?” you thought aloud. “you haven’t eaten much, have you.” seunghyun shook his head, jutting out his bottom lip, “saw some friends at the bar.” he said. “here, have mine.” you pushed your plate to him. you rose from your seat, “line’s not long and there’s plenty of food left.”

seunghyun’s eyes grew twice in size. “why’re you looking at me like that? we like the same shit.” “because i don’t want you to leave.” you tsked, unable to hide your smile, feeling your face warm. “grow up, you big baby.” as you turned to walk away, seunghyun looked across the room, seeing the back of jiyong’s head. he reached over, patting your ass. you looked back at him in a panic. you unintentionally mimicked his movement, seeing jiyong deep in conversation with a friend. “get a good one in.” seunghyun listened diligently, groping your left globe. you left with a satisfied huff. seunghyun watched you walk away, bottom lip caught between his teeth as he looked down at his lap. “thats my fuckin’ girl.” he muttered to himself, eating a few bites of what became his food. you returned not too long after with a new plate and a margarita, letting out a sweet laugh upon realizing seunghyun was now drinking a vodka cran. “you better eat.” you said, eating a spoonful of macaroni and cheese. you saw jiyong walk over, other hand stirring your drink with the small straw it came with, “and drink water.” “i will.”

“hold up,” seunghyun called to you and jiyong. “gotta piss. hold this for me?” he handed jiyong his best sportsmanship certificate, carried in an elegant stanford-cardinal red folder. jiyong took it with a nod, holding it with his. seunghyun walked down the hall, turning the corner to where the restrooms were, following the directory on the wall. you stood in amicable silence with jiyong. your hand ran along the back of a luxurious lounge chair—one of many scattered throughout the main lobby—eyes drifting to the chandelier hanging above the front desk. “i forgot to check if seunghyun has his keys.” you turned to jiyong at the sound of his voice. something about his tone told you he was trying to fill the air. “do you think he does? so he can get his car tomorrow.” it was an obvious question with an obvious answer: of course the person who drove would still have their keys on them, even if they’re too tipsy for comfort to drive themselves home afterward. he’s smart enough to know. with the way jiyong’s eyes stayed on you, waiting for your answer, it was evident he wanted an excuse to talk to you. “i’m sure he does, jiyong.” you said. “you can check when he comes back.” “right,” jiyong nodded, sincere. “you’re right.”

the fleeting moments of silence that followed, something stirred inside jiyong’s chest. he tried to thwart it—distracting himself with the groups of fellow athletes filing in and out of the hotel, or the couple going back and forth with the concierge about a mistake made in their reservation. but he couldn’t help it. there was only so much one person could stifle for so long. you knew something was afoot, feeling him lay his hand atop yours. you didn’t waste an iota of time: “jiyong.” you warned him, voice leveled. “we can’t. you know this.” he looked at you, but you wouldn’t look at him. “i miss you so fucking badly.” he sounded broken—the world zeroed in on either of you, cancelling everyone else out. “you have no idea what i’ve gone through. how lonely i’ve felt these past five months without you.” his tone wasn’t spiteful. like his expression in the car, he just sounded sad. wounded. delicate. he took a step closer to you. you still weren’t looking at him. he leaned closer to your face, trying to get those beautiful eyes of yours, “i r-respect your choice, of course i do.” his voice quivered. “but i—i can’t live without you.” he shook his head, breath shallow. in your periphery, he looked perishable—eyebrows furrowed, mouth in a pitiful frown. “you don't—” he inhaled through his nostrils. “you don’t miss me?” your eyes fell closed, posture straightening at his question. he was so pathetically hopeful—anyone with a beating heart would feel sympathy. but you drew those lines already. you weren’t going to suddenly back-track now.

“not even a little bit?” jiyong added. you finally looked at him. you could’ve sworn you heard the tiniest whimper stir from his throat. “jiyong,” your tone remained firm. “of course i feel bad that—” “—then take me back.” he cut you off. you sighed—i can’t get anywhere with him, your inner monologue voiced. “jiyong…” “please.” he pleaded. “i’ll do anything. i’ll do anything for you.” before you knew it, his mouth hovered above yours. you breathed each other in, his hand still on yours. you were aware of your surroundings, not intending on closing the gap whatsoever, yet the sudden proximity couldn’t help but catch you off guard. jiyong knew this was wrong—he knew he was directly contradicting himself. but he couldn’t stop the tip of his nose nudging against yours, or his fingers sliding up to your wrist—his gentle touch pampering your smooth skin. seunghyun was watching from the corner—since jiyong had taken a step closer to you. he was frozen in place. his jaw was clenched so tightly, he wouldn’t be surprised if he shattered his teeth in the process. seunghyun never once doubted your loyalty to your relationship nor him as your partner. but to see your logical prediction play out in real time, coupled with the sheer balls on jiyong?? he needs to get a fucking grip on himself, seunghyun’s inner monologue grumbled bitterly. he was fortunate to have preserved a morsel of self-control in his inebriated state, running his hand over his face, inhaling sharply through his nostrils.

you took a breath, “we can’t.” you said definitively. a tangible whimper escaped his diaphragm—somewhere between a groan and a prayer—shoulders sinking feeling your hand leave his, “and we won’t.” jiyong hit a new low, unable to show his face. his forehead landed on your shoulder, stiffening your posture. you heard footsteps, seeing an irate seunghyun. you made searing eye contact—expression reading don’t do anything crazy. he tried to bite back, face reading how could i not? one cold stare from you and he listened, much to your relief: “am i interrupting something, or—” jiyong shot up, walking away wordlessly. either yours and seunghyun’s respective gazes followed him out the front entrance, turning to each other once he was out of sight. “what the fuck was that?” seunghyun thought aloud in disbelief. you let out a long exhale, running your hands over your face. “did he—did he try anything on you, baby?” you looked up, irrationally scanning for jiyong at the sound of seunghyun’s pet name. “he did.” you confirmed honestly. “but it got nowhere. like i said it wouldn’t.” seunghyun kissed his teeth, half in admiration, half in frustration. he dusted your shoulder off, bringing you back down to earth. “keep it moving.” you gestured with your head out the front entrance. “we need to get home. you better keep it together.” “i—i,” seunghyun hiccuped, trying to swallow the tipsiness away. “i will.”

the car ride was silent. seunghyun was in the backseat of the land rover, safely tucked away behind his seatbelt, twiddling his thumbs. your eyes were out the passenger’s seat window, counting the passing cars. jiyong’s stare was vacant, boring out the windshield. his fingers were tightly wound around the steering wheel, but not enough to paint his knuckles white—mind elsewhere, reeling with what he’s done but currently trying to forget for the sake of his sanity. he pulled into the lot outside of your residential building, putting his car in park. you unbuckled your seatbelt, “thank you for the ride home,” you said to jiyong. “and for tonight.” his meek nod pained you with second-hand embarrassment. seunghyun watched his every move. “mhm.” jiyong hummed, turning his head, but barely sparing you a glance—his shame heavy in the air. “it was nice seeing you again,” seunghyun said, tone polite. “for what it's worth.” you turned your head, meeting his eyes. either of your respective gazes softened—a language only you two understand. “you too.” you said simply. “goodnight.” you addressed both jiyong and seunghyun, turning to leave. “night.” jiyong murmured. “night, baby.”

you froze. seunghyun’s blood ran cold. jiyong’s eyebrows furrowed, confused. he looked in the rearview mirror at seunghyun. his best friend quickly looked away, down at his lap—confirming that his ears didn’t deceive him. “what did you just call her?” jiyong stared at seunghyun through the glass, voice eerily leveled. your heart thumped in your chest—we were so fucking close … your inner monologue said bitterly. seunghyun raised his head, trying to get his lick back—establish his characteristic confidence. “i didn’t call her nothing, ji.” jiyong looked to you. you hadn’t moved. you could have, but you were physically stuck in place in shock. to think, this was the way jiyong was going to find out? so brashly, so—so inconceivably? and who had to pick up the pieces now? you did. it was always you. seunghyun’s eyes closed in defeat, head sinking in shame after jiyong slammed the driver’s seat door shut. nothing would kill seunghyun more than to see the disappointment he just knows is plastered on your face right now. he dared to look up at the rearview mirror, seeing the sight of jiyong pacing back and forth behind the car, but your eyes in the corner—piercing. he shook his head, becoming a blubbering fool in a matter of seconds: “i’m sorry—” “—get the fuck out of this car and own up to it.” you cut him off. “now.” “y-yes ma'am.” he nodded, unbuckling his seatbelt, stepping out of the car.

your door slammed closed after his. seunghyun saw you fix your blazer in his periphery. you two rounded the corner of the car, side-by-side, standing across from a distressed jiyong. “ji,” started seunghyun. “just listen to me for a second, man.” “like the fuck i will.” jiyong kissed his teeth, shaking his head. he paced four steps back-and-forth, hands on his hips, sorting through his quick-fire fragmented thoughts knitting his eyebrows together. “we were—” you corrected yourself swiftly. “i was going to tell you.” jiyong stopped in place, looking at you. his expression was sharp, targeted. “we?” his pointer finger gestured between you and seunghyun, condescending in nature. “so you two are a—are a thing?” you nodded, keeping your calm. “yes. we’re together.” seunghyun mimicked, nodding his head. “for how long?” jiyong asked, “huh?” seunghyun looked at you. his expression wasn’t accusatory whatsoever, but rather encouraging—dependent. “since—” you sighed. though you knew you owed jiyong the truth, some part of you remained afraid how he would react. so, in true debate fashion, you skirted around it delicately. “since the wintertime.” seunghyun picked up on your vague word choice, seeing the cogs turn in jiyong’s brain. clouded by the shock of it all. poor guy, his inner monologue voiced. “since the—since winter?” jiyong thought aloud, shaking his head—in the midst of connecting the pieces.

“since december.” seunghyun clarified, getting some of his lick back. “we’ve been together since december.” “but we broke up in january.” jiyong said to you. you took a breath—this is the worst fucking part. just get through this and it’ll be over—“yes, i know we did, jiyong—” “—is that why you broke up with me?” jiyong made his own connections, taking a few steps closer to you. his expression bordered on wild, eyes pained with hurt, tone teetering into accusatory. “because you wanted to fuck my best friend?” seunghyun’s expression darkened. he didn’t appreciate jiyong’s tone, nor how quickly he got comfortable with disrespecting you. your eyes narrowed, standing your ground: “that would fit perfectly into your little narrative, wouldn’t it?” you asked, eye contact unrelenting. with each condescending nod of yours, jiyong felt himself shrink. “would keep your streak going, too.” you continued, crossing your arms over your chest. “since you wanna swing your dick around, saying you got to fuck me, when in reality you nearly perished at a mere fucking tug. so go ahead,” you nodded, challenging jiyong. “say that shit again.”

jiyong swallowed, clearing his throat. “how did you know i said that?” “how the fuck else?” you spoke with conviction. “you wanna talk like you know everything? go ahead. don’t stop now and make me spoon-feed it to you.” jiyong took a step closer to you, trying to bite back. seunghyun’s jaw clenched. “i’m not inept.” jiyong said sharply to you. “you’re not.” you shook your head curtly. “but you’re fucking insecure.” jiyong fucking hated how quickly his sinuses loosened. he inhaled sharply through his nostrils, trying not to let your harsh reality impede on his back talk—but the truth fucking hurts. he was stuck in an unforgiving cycle: think you’ve got it, then you don’t. was it really repeated misfortune, or is he really just that intolerable? had he really found the one, or did he scare her away—into his best friend’s fucking arms, out of all fucking people? “shit.” he cursed between his teeth, feeling his eyes water. jiyong turned around, pacing a few steps forward, his hands on his head in muted agony. both you and seunghyun watched jiyong in silence, unsure of what to do next. jiyong’s face trembled, nearly succumbing to his tears. why does seunghyun always gets what he wants? his inner monologue quivered, reminiscent of a young child’s, what about me? he felt juvenile for thinking of a serious situation in such a silly manner. he knew there was more nuance to this than his stubbornness was willing him to believe, but how else could he word it? there it was, the other pattern defining—no, bleeding his life dry since he could remember. since that fucking neighborhood block party as a kid.

jiyong ran a hand over his face, getting himself together. he turned around, facing the two of you—subconsciously recognizing you as one unit; a collective, impenetrable moving force. “is that what this is?” he voiced meekly. dissatisfied with himself, he poked his cheek with his tongue, gesturing between you and seunghyun with his finger. “you cheated on me with seunghyun to get back at me for lying about fucking you?” you scoff eviscerated his last shred of dignity. you shrugged your shoulders, “you’re a lost cause.” you told jiyong, shaking your head. the same time you turned your back and walked a few paces away—appalled by his sheer audacity—seunghyun walked up to jiyong. “hey,” he said sternly, pointing at jiyong’s chest. “you don’t get to fucking speak to her like that.” “the fuck does it matter to you! you didn’t give a fuck about her! i was the only one who did!” jiyong yelled, smacking seunghyun’s hand away. his throat felt raw, “you always get whatever the fuck you want!” his voice echoed throughout the empty parking lot. you ran your hands over your face, wanting to be anywhere else but here. “it's not fair!” jiyong yelled. seunghyun didn’t back down from the challenge, looking at his brother since sentience in the eye with undiluted defiance. “how did—how did you even—” jiyong stumbled on his words, awkwardly gesturing to nothing at his side, trying to form a sentence. he shook his head, looking for stability in his thoughts. “how did you even get together, seunghyun?” he looked at his best friend, utterly helpless. “how could you do this to me? she was mine first!”

seunghyun kissed his teeth dismissively. “nah, man. i’ve paid my fucking dues. i’ve learned from my mistakes and how bad i fumbled.” he told jiyong. “but what i’m not gonna let you do is forget that she saw me first. so fuck off with your cuck-ass bullshit.” your face sunk into your hands, “you have got to be fucking kidding me.” you muttered to yourself, they really talk like they’re not a day passed seven. jiyong thought he was going crazy, “what the fuck are you talking about!?” he yelled at seunghyun, throat dry, nearly descending into a coughing fit. he swallowed hard, fingers pounding on his temples dramatically, “what the actual—what the actual fuck are you talking about, seunghyun? do you not hear yourself when you talk!? you told me to bring her tonight, knowing what you two are dating!” he took a deep breath. “what's—what’s wrong with you, man? all of our lives you’ve gotten everything—everything you’ve wanted. and—and now—” jiyong scoffed pitifully, the words caught in his throat. “the—the one fucking time i have someone, you just—you just took her away. like it was nothing. like she’s nothing,” jiyong gestured to your back. seunghyun’s jaw clenched, eye contact with jiyong unrelenting. “she’s not nothing.” murmured seunghyun. jiyong shook his head in disbelief, “why couldn’t i just have this one—this one thing?” his chest felt hollow, head nauseated with shame and inexplicable betrayal. “you couldn’t leave her alone? just this once? out of the girlfriends i’ve had, she’s the one you just so happened to want?” tears clouded his vision. jiyong blinked harshly, “huh? why, seunghyun? fucking why!”

seunghyun shook his head defiantly, getting up in jiyong’s face. jiyong pushed his shoulders, but seunghyun came right back. “i didn’t take bullshit away, ji.” he taunted. “it's not my fault she answered and didn’t hang up. it's not my fault that we went out to dinner and she didn’t wanna leave.” he watched his best friend crumble with every syllable—every breath. “what is my fault is—is that—” seunghyun cleared his throat, zeroing himself back in. “is that i was stupid for not realizing what i wanted before it could hurt you.” “fuck you, man.” jiyong spat, but his pitiful expression said otherwise. “everything’s always been so easy for you.” said jiyong bitterly, “you don’t get to talk.” “nah,” seunghyun stared down at him. “'cause you don’t get to talk either, ji.” he shook his head menacingly, “you think it was easy hearing you talk about someone every fucking day, when you had no idea what to do with all that? what to do with all of her?” he tutted. “you think it was fucking easy to see the look on her face when you didn’t tell her you loved her? and then you went and told her over fucking text? really, ji? have you ever been fucking serious a goddamn day in your fucking life?” your stomach dropped. your eyes widened, body going on auto-pilot. you walked up to seunghyun, “that’s enough.” you spoke with conviction, though he wasn’t budging. you saw how all the color drained from jiyong’s face. it petrified you, wondering how the brash mention of such a sensitive topic would play out. you didn’t want to stick around to find out: “i said that’s fucking enough.”

you weren’t particularly religious—though meeting jiyong’s eyes ushered you into judgment day. his pupils twinkled devastatingly underneath the glow of the street lamp, erasing any surrounding white noise. the world fell silent. it always did with those eyes of his, “you told him?” it was a natural instinct to want to reach out and comfort him. however, it wasn’t attributed to your past relationship, nor basic human empathy. he was born to be comforted—made to feel worthy, re-assured with love. any palm could be molded to fit his cheek—any kiss can rejuvenate his senses. in another life, he was an artist’s muse: elegantly immortalized on canvas, vividly celebrated in marble. his emotions were never misguided, but rather guideposts of the human experience. in this life, unfortunately, he’s been banished to the unforgiving gallows of insatiable want with no means of a tangible end. stuck in a cycle—looking at the love of his vulnerable yet beautiful soul hold the arm of the one who’s tightened that suffocating rope his entire life. “you told him everything?” jiyong’s voice was meek, utterly devastated. you held onto seunghyun’s arm tighter, fighting the urge to comfort his sad soul: “i—” “—you’re talking to me.” seunghyun took a step forward, effectively out of your grip. “not her. me.” he pointed to himself, looking at jiyong. “you’re not gonna get another chance to disrespect her.”

jiyong looked offended. “disrespect her? i’m nicer than you’ll ever fucking be, seunghyun.” he said sharply. “you toss people out like garbage. like you did to her before you—before you decided to j-just randomly change your mind. like you’re doing to me right fucking now.” seunghyun took a deep breath, actively deterring the need to yell—he was historically the more level-headed energy in their arguments. “i didn’t randomly change my mind.” he said calmly. “yeah? well, it fucking feels like you did. just—just swooped in when no one was looking.” jiyong tsked. silence brewed in the tension-filled air. jiyong was at his wit’s end, “that’s the—she’s the love of my life, man.” “mine too.” said seunghyun. “i’m an honest man because of her.” if the unspoken words displayed on jiyong’s face were audible, he would be indicted on federal-level charges. “like you ever were to begin with.” he muttered bitterly. “you didn’t give a fuck. you never give a fuck about people in a normal way.”

seunghyun couldn’t take it anymore: “i always did!” he yelled, voice booming down the lot. “i always cared! do you not fucking hear yourself, ji? huh!?” seunghyun threw jiyong’s words back at him, rapidly tapping his own temple, eyes widening in frustration. “y'know, when we first came here, i wanted you to have a life of your own. because i saw how much it killed you to—to constantly be associated with me at the academy,” said seunghyun. “i’m not fucking stupid, ji.” he shook his head, not giving jiyong the chance to breath with his seething eye contact. “you may think i am, but i’m a lot smarter than you wanna fucking admit. you want people to know you’re the older one. you don’t want to be known for tennis since you got wrapped into it 'cause of me. you fucking hated and i mean hated!” he yelled. “when we both got into stanford, because there’s another thing that’ll tie us together furrr-ever.” seunghyun listed on his fingers, pumped-adrenaline from the roll he was on temporarily compromising his pronunciation. he talked like you’ve never heard him speak before. he became straight up bitter the angrier he got, “you wanna last in people’s memories for longer than five fucking seconds. great. great! go ahead! no one’s stopping you!” seunghyun let out a condescending laugh, throwing his hands in the air.

he looked over his shoulder, arm gesturing at you behind him, his attention returning to jiyong. “you don’t want the love of your life slipping through your fingers.” you covered your mouth. you couldn’t deter your eyes though jiyong and seunghyun were only a few feet in front of you, akin to a car crash. “i get that, ji. okay? i understand.” seunghyun nodded. “but what you need to understand is that you were a placeholder.” jiyong’s knuckles went white, fists at his sides, jaw clenching. seunghyun licked his lips, “i don’t know why it was her and not someone else. i don’t.” he shook his head, earnest. “but i know—i know this is different. i’m not letting her go. no matter what the fuck you say. or do.” jiyong’s voice quivered, “i can’t ever forgive you for this.” seunghyun’s shoulders didn’t slump, nor did his posture falter. “i know.” he leaned forward, staring into jiyong’s mutilated soul. “how’d my dick taste in your mouth, though?”

it all happened so quickly: jiyong swung, seunghyun dodged; popped jiyong on the jaw, nearly sending him toppling onto the asphalt. you gasped sharply, not knowing what to do, moving forward on nothing but instinct. seunghyun grunted, breathing temporarily stalled after jiyong punched him square on the chest, swinging back—completely undeterred by your yanking of his suit; in his own world, hellbent on his own objectives. you grabbed as much as you could, pulling hard. “are you fucking crazy!?” you exclaimed, bottom of your loafers skidding against the pavement. “have you lost your damn—” you yelped, letting go immediately. you registered an intense stinging sensation on your right hand—half of your pinky nail was gone; snapped off after chipping against a loose thread, combined with the force of your pulls. “shit!” you cursed aloud, eyes watering. it was unbearable, almost paralyzing. applying pressure to the wound was useless—it only caused you to wince louder, unable to stop your tears in your immediate reaction. seunghyun turned around, horrified: “look what you fucking did ji—” the wind was knocked out of him again, jiyong punching his chest and pushing hard against his shoulders afterward, sending seunghyun stumbling backwards, and unintentionally into you. you fell onto the pavement. no further physical injury, thankfully, but in the sudden intensity of it all, a moment of weakness slipped through the cracks: a sob ringing from your diaphragm.

seunghyun panicked, scurrying over to you. “h—hey,” he was on all fours, having not gotten up yet, the adrenaline currently fogging his logic. “you okay, baby? a-are—are you hurt? hey—” “—i’m fine.” you wiped the tears off your face harshly, pissed at everything and every-fucking one. seunghyun grabbed your wrist, eyes widening, “oh my god—what happened to your hand? h-holy shit.” “i-it was when i—” your tears had subsided, yet the stability in your voice had yet to return. “w-when you—” “—look what the fuck you did, jiyong!” seunghyun yelled. he got to his feet, “she's—she’s fucking bleeding, man!” jiyong’s face fell, “w-what? i didn’t . . . i didn’t mean to—” “that’s what happens when you do the stupid shit you do,” spat seunghyun, “people get hurt.” “you’ve hurt me my entire fucking life! made me—made me feel weak!” jiyong yelled. he pointed at seunghyun, feeling his bottom lip pulsate. “that’s all you know how to do, seunghyun!” seunghyun stepped forward, about to retaliate. “if only you—” “shut the fuck up!” you yelled, drawing out the last syllable in desperation—or until your breath gave out. jiyong and seunghyun were stunned into silence. finally, some fucking peace—"the both of you are so fucking annoying—god!“ you ended in a frustrated exclaim, pinching the bridge of your nose.

after a moment, you took a breath. you laid your left palm on the pavement in an effort to boost yourself onto your feet. "here, let me—” “you’ve done enough.” you said curtly to seunghyun, who backed off immediately, hands behind his back. you got up, pain searing on your pinky. “fuck,” you winced, wrist limp. on his instinct, seunghyun’s body was close to yours. you lifted your head, looking at jiyong. “we’re done.” you said, plain and simple. “fuck off. forever and always.” you turned your head, glancing at seunghyun. “i don’t care what the fuck you do,” you said. “i just want to go to bed.” with that, you walked away, towards the front entrance of your residential building. seunghyun took a steps forward in your direction, but found himself stalling. he turned to jiyong, their exchange wordless. there it was—their special language, harnessed and utilized since birth, spoken for what feels like the last time. they stared at each other underneath the warmth of the aged streetlight—jiyong’s bottom lip swollen; seunghyun’s left eyebrow scuffed and chest most definitely bruised—in complete silence to the passerby, but a cacophony of madness blasting their brains.

it was a last goodbye. jiyong’s face was unreadable, too tired to show emotion anymore. with how his fingers curled into his palm, however, tugging at the sleeve of his suit, communicated unease. like he wasn’t ready for what this was going to mean with the only person he’s ever trusted in his life. seunghyun’s eyes glistened, not sure where exactly his emotions were coming from, since there were so many avenues: having just fought with jiyong; the love of his life is currently hurting both emotionally and physically; the mess he’s going to repair once he walks inside your dorm; the realization that he’s already made his decision, and once he puts one foot in front of the other, his best friend will become a stranger. seunghyun’s lips parted, taking a breath. he walked away and didn’t look back.

you two stood in silence in the communal kitchen. seunghyun sifted through the first aid kit, collecting a few alcohol wipes, a sterile gauze sponge, and band aids. he tended to your broken pinky nail, cleaning and securely bandaging it up. “i know.” he whispered whenever you couldn’t hold in your wince, feeling it throb. “i know, baby.” he brought your hand to his lips, kissing the back of it. he sat in a chair, you stood between his knees as you tended to the scuff on his eyebrow. you cleaned the cut with an alcohol wipe, protecting it with a smaller-sized bandaid.

seunghyun helped you undress in your dorm, sliding your blazer off your arms before unbuttoning the back of your blouse. he hung his suit on the back of your desk chair, leaving his button-up with it, too. he sat on the edge of your bed after taking his matching trousers off, feeling the mattress dip next to him. “hm?” he hummed. he looked up, seeing you point to his bare chest, a few bruises littering his pecks. you brought out your vanilla-scented body oil, usually used to moisturize your body after a shower, but massaged it into his skin nonetheless. though the oil held no healing properties, the tenderness of your gesture and touch was enough to start healing him. seunghyun’s posture relaxed, head falling back whilst his eyes closed, breathing steadying as your left palm wrote a love letter on his chest—each firm rub an affirmation, each encircled trace of a bruise a vow.

you massaged whatever oil was left into either of his shoulders. your hand found the back of his neck, bringing seunghyun in for a long-needed kiss. it was slow—breathing each other in through your nostrils. the kiss gently broke, the tips of your noses brushing together. you broke long-standing, yet amicable silence: “that was really stupid.” you alleviated the messy tension. seunghyun chuckled, breath warm against your cheek. “it wasn’t a little bit hot?” he quipped in a murmur, making you smile. “maybe.” you giggled sweetly, “a little bit.” your hand combed through his hair, fingers gingerly fixing stray strands laying in disarray on his forehead. “did you think i was gonna follow you?” he asked, voice low. though you took a moment, you answered in earnest. you shook your head, looking into his eyes, “no.” it was plausible: so much history between him and jiyong, it would make more than enough sense to stick by his side, even after nearly bashing each other’s faces in. but as you looked into the love of your life’s eyes, watching his twinkling pupils scatter around your features; mouth parted in unspoken hope, latching on your every word—you couldn’t help but be happy that the one you upended your life for did the exactly same thing for you. this love story is tragic, your inner monologue voiced, but those are always the best ones, right?

“but i’m glad you did.” you told seunghyun. a grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. he leaned in, kissing you firmly. you kissed him back, hand with your injury pinky gently riding up his bare chest, settling comfortably onto the side of his neck. seunghyun kissed you again before breaking apart, resting his forehead against yours. you two settled into bed soon afterward, seunghyun reaching over you to turn your lamp off before settling onto your chest. your fingers lovingly carded through his hair, bandaged pinky held in the air to avoid any discomfort on your end. perhaps it was the white noise of your air conditioning unit, the fact that seunghyun was in a dark and quiet room and nestled into your chest, that the emotional gravitas of the evening finally began to weigh on him. this was not to say you went unscathed—you were exhausted to the point of muscular weakness. seunghyun felt his sinuses tingle, loosening expeditiously. he sucked in his bottom lip, trying to keep it from trembling. his shuddering shoulders gave him away. “seunghyun?” you were alert. “hey,” your fingers raked through his hair, trying to get his attention. you heard muffled cries, a part of your shirt dampening. there was a moment he seemed to have leveled. until he couldn’t bear it anymore, breaking out into broken sobs. you held him as tightly as you could, feeling his hands aimlessly paw at your waist. he didn’t say a word. your vision blurred, clamping your eyes shut.

the next few days were for recalibrating. seunghyun called a taxi to the hotel, trying to ward off his hangover with a cigarette. he rubbed his face at a traffic light, skin feeling heavier than usual. he sucked in a breath, pressing gently down on his sore sinuses—evident remnants of how hard he cried just hours before. he pulled into a pharmacy, walking through the aisles for antiseptic, fresh gauze and bandages for your pinky. his phone buzzed in his pocket whilst standing in line for checkout: Im more awake now, you texted. lmk when youre back. ofc baby, he typed with his left hand, right holding the full shopping basket. it was then that he saw the time, 10:37 AM. it's only hitting me now that it's monday, he thought to himself. he looked up, seeing a free cashier gesturing for him to come to their counter, last week ji and i made plans to help each other move out. wonder how he’s gonna do it on his own. jiyong woke up with a blistering headache. he stumbled into the bathroom, squinting at his reflection after hastily turning the light on. his bottom lip was swollen and bruised—not enough to warrant a visit to the nearby urgent care, but enough to begrudgingly put ice on it as his eggo waffles toasted; scarfing them down before throwing back two advils for the pain. just when his brain started to catch up with his body, senses permeated by the memories of the evening previous, his phone rang—ringtone piercing.

“hello? mom?” he mumbled, trying to decipher her words. his headache worsened, “you’re at the airport? how long’ve you and dad been there?” he had forgotten his parents were flying in today for graduation later in the week. to his relief, he hadn’t inadvertently stranded them at san jose international airport, but by his mother’s tone, she was growing impatient. “i’ll leave soon—traffic isn’t bad in the morning. okay. i love you, too. yes—yes, mom. i’ll drive carefully.” his parents were mortified to see their son’s injured mouth. hundreds if not thousands of questions were hurled at him. jiyong couldn’t stomach looking into their eyes, closing the trunk with a huff after putting their luggage inside. “seunghyun and i got into a fight.” jiyong muttered, putting his car in drive. “that badly?” he looked into the rearview mirror, seeing his father point to his lip. jiyong tsked, keeping his eyes on the road. “what could’ve possibly made you two that upset?” his mother disapproved, shaking her head. “this is so unlike you.” jiyong grimaced, tight-lipped as his bitterness clouded his senses. more like who it was, his inner monologue grumbled, merging into traffic.

word travels fast. seunghyun dug into his egg’s benedict as you cut into your breakfast platter—either of your styrofoam take-out boxes squeaking against the table in the communal kitchen—his phone rang. “hello?” his voice was muffled, trying to chew through his bite, wiping his mouth with a crumpled napkin. his father didn’t waste time with pleasantries: “what’s this i hear about you and jiyong getting into a fight?” seunghyun glanced in your direction. with how you looked at him, it was as if you understood his mother language. seunghyun cleared his throat, expression darkening a bit. his chin sunk, “we’re not talking right now, dad.” he spoke into the phone, “i'll—i’ll tell you and mom when you come tomorrow. it's a lot to explain over the phone. the least i can do is tell you face-to-face.” it surprised you when he called the next afternoon, asking if you were free for dinner.

“talk about a novel way to meet your boyfriend’s parents.” you quipped, holding your phone to your ear with your shoulder. your hands were occupied with folding your clothes and putting them into your luggage—the task you worked through today to slowly pack your dorm up for move-out. “after … y'know.” “i know.” said seunghyun. he overheard his parents in the kitchen, trying to differentiate his tupperware from his roommate’s, “would you be ready in a couple hours? around seven, let's say? my parents have a rental, so they’ll meet us there from their hotel. alleviate some of the—” he cut himself off, unsure of what word to use, “y'know.” you took a moment before responding, “they wanna see if i was worth it, don’t they?” seunghyun was quick to reassure, “you leave that to me.” he said. “you’re more than worth it. you need to know that.” you turned to retrieve the last few sweaters from your dresser, catching your reflection in the mirror. “i know.”

the world moves fast, but you and seunghyun move faster. the following day—wednesday evening, the night before your graduation—seunghyun’s for the school of humanities and science was friday morning—he met your parents over dinner. his eyebrow scuff had healed enough to ward off worry of you dating a heathen. he was a smooth and confident talker, getting to know your parents as much as they got to know him. he offered an easy smile before answering questions about his studies, or how tennis became such an important pillar of his life since a young age. he mentioned jiyong, but not by name: “a family friend and i have done it since we were kids.” he said, quickly taking a sip of his water, “its stuck since then.” though his characteristic confidence spoke for itself, he sought a comforting grip of your hand underneath the table whenever possible—adding a gentle swipe with his thumb after you explained your bandaged pinky away, “i was packing. i didn’t have a good grip on a storage box.” you said to your parents. “it hurts a lot less now, though. but i can’t do much heavy lifting. that’s where he comes in.” you gestured to seunghyun. he grinned, glancing down at his lap, feeling his face warm through his mounting sheepishness.

jiyong saw you in the crowd at graduation. he heard your name being called, but looked away before you walked across the stage to accept your degree. seunghyun and jiyong were tight-lipped in photos and spoke minimally to one another in their shared graduation dinner come friday night—much to either of their parents’ dismay. not that you were planning on it, but you didn’t attend—spending your evening with your parents, finishing packing your dorm to load the mover’s van the next morning. on the way to meet his parents at their hotel, jiyong drove by your residential building. though it was a simple start to the early afternoon on this partly cloudy saturday, the universe still had some distasteful jokes up her sleeve.

he came to a gradual stop at the traffic light, reaching down to recline his seat a centimeter or two. he stuck his elbow out the window, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel. his ears caught the sound of rickety carts, turning his head to his left. he was able to make out the open trunk of a uhaul van—seeing you turn the corner, seunghyun behind you wheeling a steele moving cart filled with your belongings. he saw two people standing by the other side of the van in conversation—presumably your parents. his heart sunk bitterly, but for a fleeting second, he forgot the reason why: i didn’t know hyun was gonna be here, his inner monologue voiced, he didn’t tell—

he kissed his teeth, looking away. why would he? he wondered pitifully. resent brewed between his temples, percolating at the back of his neck. his eyebrows furrowed in muted frustration, not like we’d tell each other anything anyway. sharing their immediate thoughts, phoning the other whenever they were just an iota unsure about something, and being one another’s second nature felt long gone—all in a matter of days. a shared life, disqualified with a swing of a fist. not erased, though. at least not to me … jiyong couldn’t stop himself from looking again. he watched seunghyun and your father lift a heavy storage bin into the van—your mother and you talking to the side. once finished, seunghyun checked to see if your parents weren’t looking, sneaking a kiss to your temple. a silent thank you manifested in your hand rubbing his lower back, bandaged pinky running along the fabric of his shirt.

that was also when jiyong saw your shirt: I TOLD YA, in bold letters. the words were stacked vertically, staring jiyong right in the eye. he had never seen you wear it before, let alone in your closet. though the look of the relaxed gray fabric was somewhat familiar, he was too busy jumping to irrational conclusions. it felt like a subliminal message—something out to get him; taunt him. that he would never be happy, everything he will want would eventually be taken away, and vindication wasn’t part of his fate: i told you so. whilst you and seunghyun were clueless—ushered over by your parents to make plans for lunch—jiyong sped off, tight-lipped; vein engorged on his temple . . .

honey's taglist ☕️: @gongyoosgf @infinetlyforgotten @riddlerloveb0t @mesopotamism @pepsicolapussi @breakmeoff @thanosspills @moontabi @tabibabib @lexalith @lavenderobsessed @heartubeatusalon

[nayeoniiz]

U REMIND ME. 2

chapter 1 → @cinnawonbabe | masterlist

pairings ❀ jake x fem!reader

warnings ❀ drinking, public intoxication, jake is lowkey a dick

overview ❀ jake went through a toxic relationship with winter that ultimately resulted with him having a fear of ever loving again. one day, he encounters y/n, mistaking her for his ex girlfriend winter only to find out that it wasn’t. by curiosity, he’s made it a mission to find out who this mystery woman is. will this be the girl of his dreams or will it end up as another failure?

authors note: i’m so excited to announce that i am collaborating with my good friend isla @cinnawonbabe on this story! make sure to check out chapter one before you read this. chapter one of infatuated (jungwon’s story) is also posted so go check it out! the tag lists are open for both stories, so comment if you want to stay ahead of the crowd! enjoy :)

NOT PROOFREAD!!

“yo.” in the midst of the darkness that was jake’s slumber, he felt a cold hand wrapping around his forearm before shaking him gently. he remained unmoving. instead, he opted to squeeze his eyes shut, the desire to stay asleep for just a little bit longer seeming more rewarding than whatever sunghoon was trying to do. and he knew what the objective was, how could he forget? even his dreams wouldn’t let him escape the possibility. “wake the fuck up,” sunghoon’s voice sliced through whatever slumber jake had left to hold onto as his roommate began to shake his body more aggressively. jake let out a grumble, swatting the boy’s hand away, but he wasn’t letting up.

“do you want to get up on your own, or do i have to force you?” the question alone felt rhetorical as not even a second later, whirls of icy winds invaded his skin. sunghoon held the blanket that was once stationed so comfortably on jake’s body in one hand, while he yanked him to a sitting position with the other. “it’s time, my boy.”

“what kind of ominous shit is that?” jake questioned as he rubbed his eyes, the bright sunlight peeking through the curtains blinding him before he could fully adjust to it. sunghoon didn’t speak, just held a grin as he waited for the boy to look back at him.

“it’s time,” he repeated once again, his expression doing anything but faltering as he stared at the boy. he was sure he was starting to look like a madman, but he didn’t mind. there was one thing on his mind, and he had to make sure he saw it through.

“okay, okay. stop looking at me like that,” jake grimaced as he grabbed onto the hand that sunghoon held out to him. this was the first step to a new chapter. though he wasn’t sure how ready he was, he owed it to his friend to try. that was the least he could do.

“ight, i’ll leave you to it,” sunghoon said before making his way to the door for a swift exit. “i’ll be in the living room. and you better put that shit on.”

after mumbling a quick response, jake made his way to their shared closet to see what outfit he could throw together. it was already proving to be a struggle as he shifted through all the clothing options he had. he had a whole wardrobe to pick from, but it had been forever since he’d gotten dressed up. since the breakup, he’d been shuffling through the same variety of sweats and sweatshirts; his sense of style was faltering. he poked his bottom lip out, scanning and reshuffling through the hangers as he thought of what to do. “you can never go wrong with black…” he mumbled, grabbing a black collared polo shirt. he moved over to the pants section on his shelves, grabbing the first pair of black oversized jeans in his field of vision and threw it over his shoulder with the shirt as he grabbed a random pair of socks to shove into the pockets of his pajama pants. deciding on the shoes was the easiest part, you could never really go wrong with black air forces.

when he threw on the fit, he paired it with a silver cuban chain, and a variety of silver rings to spread throughout his fingers. he took some hair shaping gel and styled his neck length hair as a wet style, sprayed some axe body spray all over, before finally making his way to the living room to inform sunghoon that he was ready to go.

there, sunghoon was waiting. his feet rested on the ottoman while he scrolled mindless on tiktok, new audios playing every few seconds as he skipped through most of what he was watching. jake cleared his throat, causing sunghoon’s eyes to meet his. the boy pursed his lips, giving a small nod of approval. just a little dressing up, and it was already starting to look like jake was back in his element. “okay, ken carson i see you.”

“yeah just sum slight,” jake chuckled, grabbing his chain to display the jewelry. they both shared a small laugh and made their way to the door. with each step they took toward the door, jake couldn’t help but to feel less and less responsive of his movements. his heart felt heavy and the door only seemed to pan out, getting further away from him despite being less than twenty feet away now. he stopped the second they were almost out the door, averting his eyes the second he realized sunghoon had noticed his lack of movement. “you good?” sunghoon raised an eyebrow, dipping his head to meet jake’s eyes. he didn’t say anything back, just took a few steps backward and shook his head.

“aw come on man, we’re literally almost out of here. don’t pussy out now,” sunghoon groaned as he shut the door. he bit the inside of his lip, squinting his eyes as he looked off into the distance in thought.

“it’s five o’clock somewhere,” he bargained as he swiftly disappeared into the kitchen, coming back with a half drunk bottle of hennessy, and a shot glass that was definitely used the night before. jake scrunched his eyebrows as sunghoon handed the glass to him, pouring the liquid into it before jake downed it without a word. the hotness of the hennessy traveled down his throat and made an unwelcomed appearance inside his stomach. he let out a few breaths trying to calm down the heat that spread throughout his body. “fuck,” his face contorted as sunghoon stared in awe.

“no chaser? you’re crazy.”

“you didn’t bring me one,” jake retorted, head already spinning as he held the glass out, urging for sunghoon to pour him up again to which he complied with no question.

“you’re a big boy, you got it.”

one again, jake took the shot straight to the head and this time he shook his head as he breathed out. “fuck!” the more the alcohol settled, the more he felt like maybe this was doable. maybe this was okay. “i think i’ll be good after this next one.” he held the glass out again and sunghoon barely got to turn the bottle up once he finished pouring before jake snatched the glass away to down it once again.

“you ready?” sunghoon asked while jake kept his eyes shut, responding with a nod. “let’s go.” and just like that, they made their way to sunghoon’s supra. as they’re driving to the mall sunghoon decided to further set the mood by playing throwaway by future. jake’s ears perked up as the familiar beat invaded his ears, the bass of the car adding onto the vibe as he began singing the lyrics with his whole heart.

“fuck that bitch,” jake mumbled over the volume of the music, which sunghoon almost didn’t catch. but he did, and he was proud.

“say it with your chest!” sunghoon exclaimed, giving him two encouraging taps on his shoulder as if putting a battery in his back.

“fuck that bitch!”

“hell yeah, my boy!” they nodded their heads to the song as it continued playing until the point where the beat switch came into play. that’s when sunghoon switched it to a song of the same nature, excluding the tenderness. by the time they got to the mall, jake was hype. he was already imagining all the girls he could possibly speak to. upon getting out of the car, jake had somehow lost footing on the flat pavement, nearly stumbling to the floor had sunghoon not been quick enough to grab him by his collar.

“can you act normal?” sunghoon rolled his eyes while jake steadied himself, regretting his decision to give the boy “courage” shots to begin with. in his defense, he didn’t anticipate how much of a lightweight his friend was.

“i’m sorry. you know i didn’t eat anything yet, right?” jake nearly slurred as they continued walking into the building. the cold air nearly punched them as soon as they stepped foot inside, the cool toned artificial lights adding onto the chill as they moved forward.

“now, listen,” sunghoon turned to jake whose ears immediately perked. “the whole ordeal is to look inviting but not desperate. keep your head on a swivel and any eye contact you make with a girl, just smile and nod for them to come over.”

“what?”

“like this,” sunghoon’s eyes searched the seemingly endless crowds of people before they found their stationary spot that jake couldn’t quite find himself as sunghoon demonstrated perfectly what he had just said before he leaned down to whisper in his ear. “and just like that, bitches come flocking.”

the crowd remained a blur as the girls approached, jake didn’t see them until they were directly in front of them. it was two girls, their style was alternativeㅡ ripped stockings under their shorts, big boots, off the shoulders cropped band tees, elaborate eyeliner, black contacts, it was very put together. they were gorgeous and all, but jake just wasn’t… moved.

“hey, sorry this is so random, but we just had to say you two are really cute,” the first girl stated, her toneㅡ at least in jake’s opinion, overly light and feminine as if to reel the boys in. he didn’t care all that much. their eyes remained focused on sunghoon, but the quieter friend’s eyes seemed to sneak glances at him.

“yeah, like… mall trip made,” the previously quiet friend chimed in.

“thank you, ladies.” sunghoon failed to hide his grin of satisfaction, his canines displaying themselves almost immediately. it never failed to shock him how easily he could attract women, he was happy to be able to quickly bring an attractive pair to his friend despite the fact that they had only walked in less than ten minutes prior. he didn’t even have to try. “this is perfect, actually. me and my boy, jake, here just moved to this area. figured what better way to get familiar than a good old fashioned mall trip.”

“oh really?” the girl’s eyebrows lifted as she pursed her lips into a surprised looking pout. “that’s cool, how are you finding it so far?”

sunghoon slightly grimaced as he looked off to the side, sucking in a breath. “honestly? it’s been… kind of overwhelming. we could really use a tour guide…or two?”

“well i can be one,” the girl, who was primarily looking at sunghoon, chirped.

“and i can be two!”

sunghoon turned towards jake, whose face remained neutral. he could only offer a shrug, not wanting to express his reluctance to stick around these girls. he wasn’t sure what switched inside of him, but now all he wanted to do was go home. and it was clear on his face, but sunghoon couldn’t quite pick up on that.

“sounds like a plan!” sunghoon clapped his hands together and the quad started moving further into the mall. “i forgot to ask, can we get a name to associate with your pretty faces.”

“oh- yeah! i’m eleanor. nice to meet you,” sunghoon’s admirer smiled, extending her hand out to both of the boys who shook them upon the offer. “and this is maya. you guys are of age right?”

“yes we’re college students.”

“perfect!”

as the group continued walking, sunghoon and eleanor’s conversation flowed easily. their distance between the quad became larger the more they conversed, leaving jake and maya a few feet behind. every time he felt as though they were too far, he quickened his pace forcing maya to follow suit if she wanted to catch up, but the bounce in her step could only display her eagerness to engage with him.

a soft smile played on her lips as she tilted her head toward him. “so… do you have a major yet? or are you still figuring it out?”

keeping it short after an inaudible sigh slipped, he replied. “business.” he didn’t spare her a glance. his jaw was tight as his gaze remained locked straight ahead, each step just a touch wider than necessary—as if silently daring her to keep up. and keep up she would. for every one step he took, she compensated with several steps of her own. she rarely remained inches behind him for more than a second.

“oh cool! are you, like, into finance stuff?”

“not really.”

“okay… um, what do you like then?”

for the first time since they started walking, jake’s movements paused, prompting maya’s to do the same. his posture stayed stiff, hands still stuffed in his pockets as he turned his head toward her, offering the briefest eye contact before looking away again.

“quiet.”

the air between them chilled. “right. well, you definitely picked the wrong group for that,” she laughed once, lightly, almost to herself. when she leaned slightly closer to the boy, he subtly leaned the opposite way.

“seems like it,” he deadpanned and they resumed walking to catch up to sunghoon and eleanor. and though she stayed by his side, every second made it obvious—he was walking with her, not with her.

maya didn’t bother saying anything else, just pressed her lips together, nodded to herself, and picked up her pace. she didn’t look back to see if jake would catch up this time.

when she reached eleanor with sunghoon who was still only a few steps ahead, she walked straight up to them, brushing past the pair’s chatter as she spoke.

“i think i’m gonna go shopping on my own,” she said, not cold, but not exactly warm either. and she didn’t wait for a response as she turned toward the nearest store window and kept walking, her footsteps steadier now that she wasn’t chasing conversation.

“ahh,” eleanor’s eyes followed behind her friend, watching before subtly shifting her eyes to the side where sunghoon now stood still. biting the inside of her cheek, she shook her head. “i should probably go too, then,” she finally said. although sunghoon knew her friend’s departure would’ve been the end of his fun, too, it didn’t soften the blow. his lips subconsciously formed a thin line as he shook his head before he replaced it with a small, forced grin.

“aw, okay. well, it was nice meeting you.” before the words fully left his lips, she was already on her way, hair flipping when she briefly turned around to offer him a smile of her own. a genuine one.

“it was nice meeting you too, text me!”

“for sure, for sure.” his voice was low now as he rubbed his temples, anger brewing in his veins the second he sensed jake’s presence creeping next to him. he didn’t even have to open his eyes before he rolled them. “what the fuck is your problem?”

jake, surprisingly taken aback by his friend’s hostility, slightly flinched as he scrunched his nose and eyebrows. “i don’t know. she’s just not my type.” what a sorry excuse, sunghoon thought. but jake wasn’t sober, so maybe he just didn’t realize how shitty he’d just been.

“well no need to be a dick,” he retorted. “if that was the case, you should’ve said something!”

“i didn’t have much of a choice?” jake couldn’t understand where this pushback was coming from. they’d only been in the mall for a few minutes before being approached, there wasn't enough reaction time for him to object, and even if there was, who was he to decide? “they were literally in front of us, i’m not that rude.”

“whatever man.” sunghoon shook his head as he started walking again. “let’s go to the food court real quick, i gotta go piss.”

“okay, let’s get something to eat too,” jake nodded as they made their way to the overpopulated eating area. chatter filled the open space from wall to wall. jake got a glimpse into each group’s lives as they passed, hearing bits of conversations he wasn’t apart of. “what are we gonna eat anyway?”

“you figure it out,” sunghoon’s eyes wandered around the area until he found the restroom sign in the far right corner. “i’ll be right back,” he said, walking off before the boy could even respond back. though the mall’s volume didn’t change, silence took over him as he scanned each franchise’s sign, unsure of what he could even be hungry for while the bodies of other mall goers moved around his still standing one. nothing stood out to him, but a scent caught him off guard as a trio of women around his age walked in front of him. he blinked, each one lasting what felt like hours as his eyes stayed fixated on the back of one particular girl’s head. a cool toned, burgundy brown hair flowing down her back that sent shivers down his spine while his heart simultaneously dropped into the deep pit of his stomach. there was just no way. she couldn’t be here, right? why here? why now?

his body had a mind of his own, each step he made wasn’t his to take as he felt himself keep walking behind the girl’s until he was right behind them in line at the korean corn dog franchise. he felt like he was on fire. the heat spread from his toes to his fingertips, sweat pooling in the palm of his clenched hands. he searched for nicholas’s face. if it was truly winter in front of him, his old friend wouldn’t be that farㅡ anywhere winter was, nicholas was always in close range. but his face just never seems to appear. the tension in his body eased. his shoulders relaxed as he closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. maybe he was just imagining things. the alcohol would be an easy blame, he wasn’t in his right mind to be here alone in such a crowded space, maybe he was seeing what he subconsciously wanted to. it was okay, for now. he was okay.

maybe not. there was no way he was imagining this vividly now. he heard her laughㅡ that damn laugh. the same one he used to elicit after goofing around, trying to ease the attitude she’d caught with him over something minimal that she had waited too long to speak up about. the same laugh that he’d get after one of his unfunny jokes finally landed in a conversation. the same giggle she’d squeal out when he’d just hold her in his arms, showering her with kisses after a long day at practiceㅡ when he’d miss her the most. he just heard it, she was really here. all the pain, all of his buried emotions hit him at once. all he knew now was that he wanted- no he needed to go home.

“y/n, stop!” a voice yelped before giggling. “there’s no way you actually said that to her.”

jake’s eyebrows furrowed as he chimed out the audio of the world around him, his focus zooming

in on the girls in front of him. they turned to winter as she laughed. but, if that was winter then why would they call her y/n? who the fuck is y/n??

“i have to get out of here,” he mumbled to no one other than himself, swiftly making his way to the area he saw sunghoon walk to before he stopped paying attention. it was quiet around him, his heartbeat boomed in his ears and he felt it through his body. breathing jagged, head spinning, and sunghoon was still nowhere to be found. tears began to well in his eyes, but who was he to cry? was that even winter? he sat down at the first empty table he found, resting his head in his folded arms at he sniffled, trying to swallow the remaining pain that was still brewing. lifting his head, he breathed out and rose again making his way back into the line where he previously stood. it was shorter than when he left it, but the group was nowhere to be found. he wasn’t watching where he was going until it was too late, he bumped into the very woman he was looking for, the collide crushing the drink she was holding loosely onto as the cold fizzy soda exploded onto both of their shirts.

“shit!” the girl exclaimed, her eyes darting down to the brown mess on her previously white blouse. “yo! watch where the fuck you’re….” as her eyes trailed back up, they met with his and the world felt like it had stood still for just a moment. “going?”

god, he sure was a looker. the anger she felt had dissipated and any of the crude words she wanted to spill were long gone. “um, sorry about that. are you okay?”

her behavior caught off guard, it was almost as if they were strangers. he blinked. “uh… yeah. i’m sorry about that. i should’ve… i should’ve watched where i was going,” his voice cracked, it was too many octaves too light and you could hear the tremble despite the volume of the room barely making his words audible. the distress was written on his face and it concerned the girl. he was like a lost child searching for his mommy.

“are you okay? do you need to sit down or something? you look like you’re going to pass out.”

“uh-“ his eyes flickered to her two friends, and it only left him feeling more deranged. it wasn’t ningning and karina, winter’s best friends. he didn’t recognize these two at all. “c'mon you can sit with us, hun. it’s okay. do you want anything to drink? water?”

“no, i’m good,” he followed them to sit down, still weary of winter’s possible tricks. he tried to search her eyes for some sort of malice intent, but all he could see was concern. genuine worry for him. he tried to sit as far away from them as he possibly could without it being noticeable. nobody said anything, almost as if they were waiting for him to break the silence first. he refused.

“well, uh- hi, nice to meet you, i’m y/n,” the girl finally spoke. y/n? the name he heard earlier? but how? she looked exactly like the girl he loved before, but somehow she was her own person. the more he looked at her, the more he couldn’t believe it. she was a spitting image. but she wasn’t her?

“i’m jake,” his words came out slowly. “i’m sorry, i should go. my friend is probably waiting for me,” he didn’t bother waiting for a response as he jumped up quickly making his way towards somewhere- anywhere else. he couldn’t stand to be around her any longer, afraid of projecting his anger towards a stranger that looked exactly like the woman who broke his heart. he didn’t care how rude his departure was or if it hurt her feelingsㅡ his was already hurt severely.

“jake, you good?” sunghoon’s voice pulled him back into his body as he looked at him. “you good?” the boy repeated walking closer to him.

“no i’m not fucking good! where the fuck were you?!”

“yo, chill,” sunghoon threw his hands up in defense as if that could diffuse the turmoil spinning in jake’s head and heart. nothing could make him feel better right now.

“NO, i just fucking saw her! orㅡ not her.. she looked just like her, but her name was different. i don’t know what the fu- i don’t know what’s happening! i wanna go home.” he stumbled on his words, still unable to make any sense of the events that just went down. none of it seemed logical. there was just no way.

sunghoon’s eyes widened. “calm down, you’re making people stare,” he whisper-yelled as he threw his arm around his shoulder, trying to guide him back to the main area of the mall.

“i wanna go home, hoon. i don’t feel good at all.”

“i hear you, buddy,” sunghoon tried to comfort him, but he couldn’t help but to stop in his tracks because he just saw her too. “what the fuck?”

jake’s eyes immediately landed on her figure, still sitting down directly in his vision and he swore he could see her looking at him too from the distance though it was all starting to blur now. “what the fuck? is that not winter?”

“don’t fucking say her name, and apparently not. those aren’t even her friends. i don’t know who any of them are.”

“okay, wait here. i’ll handle it,” sunghoon nodded as he jogged over to the area, leaving jake standing as he watched the pair interact. after a few minutes, he walked over waving his phone like a white flag in surrender but he looked anything but defeated. “count your blessings, my boy. i just put. you. onnn,” he smoldered as he handed the phone over. “put it in your phone and text her. she said you’re a little weird and off putting, but you’re cute enough to let it slide.”

“what?”

“this might be better than what i originally planned for you! damn i really outdid myself this time,” sunghoon boasted as he reached for jake’s phone to input the number himself. “same face, different person, endless outcomes. maybe you didn’t need to replace her, but you needed to replace her.”

what did he just get jake into?

[mixingandmelting]

Winter Series: Day 2- Put that thing back where it came from or so help me

Summary: Dick thinks a bunny is a perfect addition to the family. You’re the one pointing out he stolen a test subject from the company he happened to screw over

⚠️Warning: Spoilers for Nightwing 2024 - #120!

He’d be lying if he were to say he isn’t having fun right now. His face threatens to crack a grin as he watches the corner of your lips continue to twitch, signaling you’re close to caving in. Not too long ago, he had come back with the rescued rabbit that was being used to energize an organization’s anti-hero weapon. Seemed like you were awake and filled in by Babs on what had happened when, as soon as Haley started barking, you ran out of the bedroom to stop her from trying to attack the little animal in his arms. You managed to soothe her and place her in the shared bedroom before coming back out and standing in front of him unamused with both hands on your hips. What was intended to be a calm conversation turned into a squabble between the two of you as you bluntly said no before he could even muster a word.

Yes, he could’ve simply chosen the easy way out to get you to let him keep the rabbit. But where’s the fun in that? Especially when you had been wearing his t-shirt as your top while waiting for him to come back (unfortunately you were not wearing his matching sweatpants but he’ll get you to do it some other time). So, of course he would choose to be a tease instead, riling you up for being cute. 

“Dick, stop whining and actually think about what could happen if you keep the rabbit.”

“I’m not whining! You’re just being heartless to this poor BunBun, not considering his well-being and the trauma he went through at all.” 

“He’s a test subject. A test subject from the company that’s trying to ruin Bludhaven by making weapons against all the vigilantes. What makes it a good idea to keep him, even more so raise him here?”

“Excuse me, are you going to ignore that he's a rabbit? A very cute and fluffy one, in fact, that would make a perfect friend to have whenever you miss aside from Haley?”

“For the love of Earth-Dick. Dick, dear? He’s not a pet or a normal bunny. It’s either you put back Mr. Bun where you got him from or so help me-“

“I hope you realized just now you called him  Mr. Bun.” 

Speed forward to now where he’s holding the rabbit up to your face, making sure he’s giving the same eyes the rabbit is giving you to seal the deal. It isn’t helping your case that “Mr. Bun”, as you had called him, instantly had become attached to you, constantly kicking his feet in the air as he readied himself to jump toward you at any given moment. Finally, your resolve breaks when the rabbit tilts his head softly, eyes still trained on you. He walks over with a smirk, smug at seeing you covering your face with both hands to muffle your groan. 

You send him a glare, though gently grabbing Mr. Bun from his hands and cradling him in your arms. Carefully, minding how the rabbit shifts and nestles into your arms from his, he engulfs you into a hug, placing a kiss on the top of your head. He snorts when he picks the words you grumble under your breath as you stay in his arms, something along the lines of becoming an animal hoarder is his fault and that his influence was what was causing Damian to adopt every animal he sees. 

The next day, with much reluctance after having to appease Haley all night from jealousy of all the attention being given to the rabbit, he wakes up and smiles. Seeing you sleep peacefully with the animals on both sides you soothes his soul and refreshes his mind, reminded how last night’s mission was worth it as he treats the scene as his hard-worked reward. He then gets up to deal with the aftermath of what he had done, but not before he brushes your hair out of your face so he could place his hand on your cheek and enjoy the warmth he gets from you in his heart a moment more. 

[apomaro-mellow]

Kitchen sex all the way for steddie bingo

Steddie Bingo Prompt: Kitchen Sex

Steve could die. He could actually die. And he'd toss himself off the balcony if he didn't think his mother would just call him dramatic and force his corpse to sit at dinner. Holiday parties were fun as a kid. He didn't mind the clothes and no one expected him to really talk and the food was good and he got to have dessert in his room.

Now that he was older and knew better, the banality of it all drained his soul. His parents weren't friends with any of these people, they were just business partners and colleagues. And everything else about them was fake too. The Chezwicks were staunch pro-life supporters but Steve knew both daughters had abortions. Darbie Everwood had some vague charity about helping the poor in Africa but frequently berated her mostly immigrant staff.

Steve's own parents talked about these people behind their backs and yet invited them into their home, all smiles. And Steve was expected to partake. He had learned the tricks of the trade. Smile and laugh, but don't look vapid. Play along and never let them know what you know until you needed something from them. And the most important thing he learned was how to keep his own secrets.

Steve checked the time on his watch and then looked out the window. He could see some white shirts, the catering staff, going on a smoke break. Which meant Steve's secret was waiting in the kitchen. He excused himself, and took a slightly roundabout way to get there. When he entered, all of the lights were off except for the oven hood's. It made the vast kitchen dark but the small light coupled with a bit of help from the moon through the window, Steve was able to make him out.

"Can't believe I'm missing a smoke break for you."

"You're more than welcome to go outside", Steve challenged, walking over to the silhouette near the light.

"And freeze my dick off? No thanks." A hand came up to cradle Steve's face and then trail into his hair, gripping the back of it. "Not when I've got you. And you're my good little cockwarmer, right?"

Steve let out a whine and crashed their lips together. They didn't have a lot of time. Not only would the staff be back after their break, but his father was going to call a toast soon. Steve would have been content to kiss him all night. But almost too soon, he was pulled away and then he felt lips on his neck.

"Eddie", he gasped in a whisper.

"I know we don't got long, sweetheart. How do you want it?"

"I wanna rub you off. And then shake hands with Fleming."

Eddie snickered against his neck and nibbled at his pulse. "The guy who cut funding for recreation?"

"Just so he can put more money in his own pockets." Because Steve's secrets were Eddie's too. He pushed Eddie against the counter and began to undo his belt. Eddie did the same for Steve, their hands fumbling in both the darkness and in their rush.

The hurry felt good. But Steve couldn't wait until tomorrow. His parents were going to the beach house for Christmas. Steve was going to the winter lodge. And he was bringing Eddie along. They both groaned as they finally got their hands on each other. Eddie stroked him, fast and dry and Steve did the same. Steve's lips found his neck. Eddie couldn't leave marks on him right now but the same was not true for Steve.

Eddie groaned at a particularly well placed bite. The sound tipped Steve over the edge and he was cumming, thinking of all the wonderful things he'd get to do to him in the lodge. He felt Eddie trembled against him and spill on his hand.

They cleaned up for the most part, readjusting clothes and hair and wiping their hands off. Eddie washed his in the huge industrial sink. While Steve went without. When he exited the kitchen, he made a beeline for Fleming.

@steddiebingo

Bingo card under the cut

[miasmaghoul]

Mountain spending a lovely fall afternoon splitting logs in preparation for winter. It's getting chilly at night and the abbey's fireplaces will need wood soon enough, and Mountain enjoys the labor. So he'd grabbed his axe just after sunup, made his way to the pile of felled trees waiting for him by the lake. The trees weren't from his forest of course, no earth ghoul would allow such a thing, but he still laid a reverent hand on the pile and thanked them for their sacrifice. It was the least he could do.

Hours later, the sun high in the sky, he's about halfway done. He'd come down here in a pair of overalls and t-shirt with a flannel overtop, breath still visible in the damp autumn air, but in no time the sweat had started to pour. His flannel lies crumpled some ten feet away, tossed away the moment he'd gotten warm. The overalls have long since been unbuckled, the straps now tied around his waist in a makeshift belt. His previously pale green t-shirt has been stained all over with sweat - around the collar, down his back, at his armpits. Even the front is blotchy with it, darkened every time Mountain wipes his face. He's covered in wood chips and bits of bark, his back and arms have just started too develop a dull burn, and Mountain couldn't be happier.

Soon enought the shirt comes off too, even its thin cotton too warm, and Mountain takes a moment to stretch. Arches his back, chest to the sun and arms over his head. Something in his spine gives a loud pop and Mountain groans, deep and satisfied, when it makes him shiver. He shakes out his arms, twists at the waist a few times, and takes a quick stroll to the lake's edge. Cups chill water in both hands and splashes it into his face, rinsing away dirt and sweat, soaking his already damp hairline and sending little rivulets streaming down his chest. It's beyond refreshing, exhilarating even, and Mountain feels good as new.

He idly scratches his stomach as he heads back to work, chuckling at the softness there. He always develops a little but of pudge this time of year, his body preparing itself for the winter as though he wasn't living in the relative lap of demonic luxury. Mountain prods at the little bit of fat hanging over his overalls with a smile, gives it an appreciative pat, and goes to pick up his next log.

Before he does, though, Mountain pauses. Considers. With a might-as-well sort of shrug, he'd trudged over to the side of the pile, untied his straps and pushed down his overalls just enough to pull out his dick. The water still trailing down his chest and belly catches in his hair, glistens in the sun, and the groan Mountain lets out as he starts to piss is one of nothing but deep relief.

Up on the rooftop, sight unseen, Aeon falls apart with one hand over his mouth and the other shoved into his now-stained sweatpants at the sound of it.

Rain was right, this is a good show.

[that-tmr-girl]

Body Heat (Day 6 of Kinktober)

Even though it's freezing outside, you and Aris make sure to stay more than warm under the sheets.

985 Words

Grinding, vaginal sex, slight praise kink

Heaters are an amazing invention. You certainly wouldn't deny that in any way, shape, or form. Especially during winter when it was below freezing right outside the window you and Aris slept by.

Still, you wouldn't call it the most effective thing in the world. In regular circumstances, sure. It was just fine.

Christmas Eve with snow outside? It may as well be useless.

Aris felt the same, if not more. He has a tendency to feel cold in normal weather. This type wasn't doing his almost non-existent temperature regulation any favors. Not even his hoodie had been any help.

Groaning in frustration, you grabbed his hands that were around you as you moved closer, your head under his chin. He couldn't help but take a breath at how close you were to his crotch. With how much of a relentless tease you enjoyed being, he wouldn't be shocked if you grinded against him just for the sake of making him hard. Of course, expecting it wouldn't stop the reaction.

“You're cute,”You mumbled, opening his palm that was clasped around yours. He felt his face flush as you used your other to pull your shirt up before trailing his up your body. Muttering something you couldn't understand, he let you trail it higher until he was finally holding one of your tits. Letting out a small sigh, you pressed yourself against him, grinding on his crotch. He whimpered as he grew hard, something you felt even through the sweats. “Yeah? Like that, sweetheart?”

He managed a weak yes as he grabbed your other breast, his thumbs running over your nipples. You couldn't help but smile as you closed your eyes, taking in his short breaths and shaky hands that he used to pull your body closer as he grew harder.

“Fuck,”He breathed out, putting one of his legs over yours as he pushed himself against you. His hold on you shook as he increased his pace, too worked up to even notice the cold anymore.

With a mischievous grin, you grabbed his hands and pulled them away before pushing his leg off. Getting out from the covers despite the shivers it went up your arms, you watched him blink in confusion before quickly sitting up, his eyes pleading with you.

“Why’d you stop?”He whimpered, his eyebrows furrowing in a confused pout.

“You know, I had a much better idea,”You promised, pulling the blanket off him before crawling on top of him. Placing a hand on his chest, you pushed him on his back as you put your face close to his. “Why don't you keep the inside of me warm? Doesn't that sound cozy?”

He eagerly nodded as he went to sit up only for you to push him back down while putting your hand over his throat but not applying any pressure. Just for the sake of keeping him in your grasp and working him up, as if he was ever planning on going anywhere in the first place.

“You're going to behave, aren't you? You're going to be good for me?”

“Yes ma'am,”He breathed out.

“I knew you would, sweet boy,”You approved, getting off of him to pull your bottoms off. Seeing as the temperature was still less than great, your top was definitely staying on.

He got the memo as he undid his, throwing them on the ground. He shivered as he did though, clearly feeling it too.

Eager to be warm (in more ways than one), you got back on him, resting your chest against his as you pulled the blanket back over both of you, stopping by your neck. Grabbing your hips, he held them as you lowered yourself onto his hard dick. Letting out a small yet excited sound, you fit him inside of you, moaning as he perfectly filled your needy cunt.

“Oh god,”He groaned, his hold on you tightening as he threw his head back. Holding his shoulders, you rocked yourself back and forth against him. He threw his head back at how you engulfed him, your cum already being unreasonably nice around him.

“Aris, fuck,”You moaned louder, dropping your head as you bounced on his cock. He repeated your name through pleasured breaths as he held your thighs, unconsciously rubbing them with his hands. You didn't bother hiding your sounds as you increased your pace, a knot forming inside of you as he twitched, reaching his breaking point again.

“I-oh fuck,”You sputtered out, throwing your head back as you held him down tighter, barely giving him room to arch himself deeper into you. “Y/N,”He groaned, his eyes shutting as you clenched around him.

“Yeah? That feels good, baby? All wet and warm for you?”You got out, slowing down against your will as your legs started shaking.

“Mine?”He breathed out, his eyes rolling back to his head. Despite how badly you wanted to answer, to tell him yes, that no matter how much you worked him up and made it clear you were the only one who could touch him, you were his anytime he asked, you were too busy finishing. The pressure inside you finally subsided as you were dripping on his lower stomach, your arms wanting to collapse. Letting out one last whimper, he came, his hot seed filling you up.

Breathing heavily, you both took a minute to come back to reality. Opening his eyes, he found himself staring at the ceiling while you looked at him, your eyes dazed and satisfied.

When you remembered your name again, you laid on top of him, pulling the blankets over your heads. He smiled as you held his face in your hands, nuzzling your nose against him so innocently. In your defense, the lovemaking was far from filthy, but your actions leading up to it were definitely not getting you on anyone’s nice list but his.

[wh0relibrarian]

sunshine

a/n: a continuation of this post, although altered to be a summer break instead of winter. completely got lost in that 😭 please excuse any informalities, i’m still getting used to writing in second person (or smut for that matter), and tumblrs post format! so don’t be mean ;(

context (if you don't want to read the previous post): Reader is visiting her hometown for the summer. A rising grad student who just so happens to bump into Sukuna at the airport. After quick introductions, he gives her his number in case she gets too lonely...

content ahead: southern sukuna au, black coded!reader, afab!reader, d referred to as dick bc i don’t like using “cock”, v referred to as cunt or pussy, age gap (reader in her early 20s, sukuna is in his early 30s), cowgirl, daddy kink, rough!sukuna (but he’s still a softie), needy!reader, clit stimulation, nicknames such as sweetheart, princess, baby/babydoll, creampie, ass/face slaps, lots of praise, a decent amount of plot

word count: 3.9k

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

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You’ve been texting Sukuna for a week now. Off and on, trying not to seem too interested, but interested enough to keep his attention. It sucked that he was a man very obviously out of touch with technology, because you can’t find pictures of him anywhere. Not even a Facebook page. You’ve just been grasping at straws, trying to remember each detail of his face. Each tattoo. You didn’t even get enough time to admire the one’s on his face, way too engulfed in his general appearance.

And oh, Sukuna. That poor man. He knew from the moment he saw you that you’d keep him up at night. From the curvature of your lips— only being the opening act to the beautiful smile you had hidden beneath. He tries to remember what color your shirt was, but can only remember how plump your tits looked. Practically spilling out of a… tank top? Or maybe it was a crop top. You had a jacket on, which he knows was gray because you kept trying to wrap it around your waist like you were embarrassed by your body. He couldn’t figure out why, though. You’re beautiful from head to toe, every part of you.

But today, today was the day you’d ask him to take you out. Or just ask to go out in general. Hell, you’d take anything at this point.

You: Hiii Sukuna. How’s your wrist feeling? I know a couple days ago you said it was progressively getting worse, any updates?

Sukuna: Hey babydoll. I think it’s all good now. Nothin a lil icyhot can’t fix. How are you?

You: I’m happy to hear that :) and I’m okay, just bored, per usual.

Sukuna: Ya know I’m always around.

You: It’s funny you mention that… I was wondering if you were busy later today? Or tonight. Either or, whatever works best for you. If you would even want to do anything of course.

Sukuna: City girl finally ready to get some sunshine?

You: Don’t make fun of me 😑

Sukuna: Oh I’d never do such a thing. Are you free right now? My lunch break’s comin up, could use the company.

You: Yes I am! I can be ready in 15, I’ll send my address.

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You weren’t as nervous as you thought you’d be. You know you looked good, you felt good. You put on a casual outfit, just a pair of bell bottoms and some old t-shirt your mom left around. This wasn’t a date, and you didn’t want to scare him, so you treated it like a normal hang out with a friend.

He picked you up in an old pickup truck, run down from the years spent riding on dirt roads and an occasional swamp. (Things can get messy the further south you go.) It was normal where you’re from to have at least one beat up truck per household, so his car was not a problem. You were all smiles, nearly skipping your way to the passenger side. Sukuna rolled down the window and he too had a bright toothy smile plastered on his face. It almost looked malicious, but you overlooked it once you got in. Something about his presence had you in a trance, you couldn’t focus on anything else but him.

When you opened the door, he stretched his arm out to help you into the chair. You made it a point to act as if you were struggling to get in and shut the door, nerves suddenly keeping you from wanting to look him straight in the eye. “Damn sweetheart… just look at you,” he said while leaning his body back, taking a moment to take in your appearance. “Hiii Sukuna, you aren’t too bad yourself,” you said giggling.

“We’re just goin’ up to Milo’s, hope that’s luxury enough for ya.”

“You think I came dressed like this for somethin’ luxury?”

“Well if that ain’t luxury, I’d be curious to see what is.”

Smirking, Sukuna went back to putting his full focus on the road. The butterflies in your stomach had died down, finding his presence incredibly inviting and safe. You were looking out the window for a while, until his hand found yours which was resting on your thigh. You turn around to him surprised, only to see his eyes still trained on the road in front of him. His hand clasped yours and gripped it tight, and you found the silence warm, like a gentle hug you wanted to last forever.

The lunch date was sweet. You both ordered cheeseburgers, fries, and a large sweet tea; reveling in its taste since it had been some time since you had genuine sweet tea. He started asking you about your schooling, learning that you’re majoring in business and will soon start working on your master’s degree. This charmed him— you were both alike even if it was in different ways. You’ve always provided for your mother, and so has he. You won’t stop reaching new opportunities, and neither will he. As the date went on his attraction only grew deeper. Your physical appearance did not mean much to him, you were to die for, but right now he wanted to know every single thing about you and didn’t care about anything else.

But… this wasn’t to say he’s not a curious man.

When ordering the food, you took a step back to look at the entire menu. This caused your skin tight shirt to rise up ever so slightly, showing off your cute tummy and belly button piercing. You noticed him staring, and he was never one to lie.

“Sukuna, order some damn food and stop looking at me like that,” you slapped his large bicep jokingly, making that same smirk from earlier slowly grow on his face.

“Mmm, you hidin’ that accent from me girl. Soundin’ so pretty bossin’ me around.”

You could tell the cashier felt a bit awkward at this point, so you pushed Sukuna in front of you to get him to focus.

Even though he would have moments like those, you didn’t feel like he was objectifying you. It never became the focal point of your conversations. It seemed like he was genuinely interested in getting to know you and it made you feel so… different. Sure you were young, but you’d never experienced such a natural yet interesting conversation with a man. You were shocked by it, to say the least, and it only made you want him more.

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After that day, you two were basically inseparable. He made it a point to try and see you after work, and if there was a day where he couldn’t do it, he’d make it up to you x2 the next day. He immediately started spoiling you, whether it was food or sending you money for new makeup, it’s like he couldn't do enough for you. You were always beyond grateful, and would even tell him to tone it down a bit, but he’d always say, “Princesses deserve princess things.”

It’d been around four weeks of this, the dates would get more romantic, and his time with you only more cherished. Although the flirting continued to grow, he never made a move on you. You definitely didn’t want to be the one to initiate anything. Maybe there was a reason for him not wanting to get physical, but not even a kiss? It was killing you at this point, every night you spent just dreaming of what his pretty lips felt like on yours. Not being able to help your hands traveling down to your aching pussy. You were so horny it hurt, and nothing you did could satiate the feeling; knowing good and well that his fingers— let alone his dick could reach spots you didn’t even know were there. Your own fingers would suffice for now, but you would be leaving in just a few weeks, you needed to know what Ryomen Sukuna was like in bed.

So, the next time he picks you up, you make sure to look drop dead gorgeous (not like he didn’t think that about you regardless.)

A few days ago, he paid for your hair and nail appointments. Large knotless braids with curly pieces coming out of them, and the prettiest french tip set you’d ever got done. You told him you wanted everything to be a surprise, and that you were planning to get a new outfit as well AND that he didn’t have to send you money for that. But you know he did anyway. The plan for this night was a drive-in movie closer to the heart of the city rather than where you both resided. There was a wing place you loved, different shops, and the movie would be the last activity.

After picking up a new sundress, a black one with thin straps and a slit at the bottom, you felt confident enough that tonight would go well. You took a shower when you got home, lathered your skin with shea butter from head to toe, and put on all the gold jewelry you owned.

There’s no way he wouldn’t want to fuck you dumb.

As always, dinner with Sukuna was to die for. He was such a gentleman, making sure to pull your chair out for you, telling you to get whatever you wanted from the menu. “Don’t be scared sweetheart, want you nice ‘n full.”

You shopped for a little while after, well, it was really window shopping. You felt so bad that Sukuna was paying for everything, even though he always insisted. You decided to just point out all of the things you liked, kind of like a test— if he really liked you then he’d remember all these things for a future event.

The drive-in was dead. Which I guess isn’t too surprising, you can’t remember the last time someone talked about seeing a movie here. Nonetheless, this was your dream scenario. With basically no one to catch you guys, it was the perfect breeding ground (literally.) The movie was some rom-com looking thing in black and white which you begged to watch, only because you knew neither of you would want to pay attention. Once he grabbed some popcorn and soda from the concession stand, he pulled up in front of the big projection, claiming he needed to be as close as possible because of his eyesight. After a few minutes of pretending to be interested, you turned to him and finally broke the ice.

“‘Kuna, do you like me?” Sukuna couldn’t believe the question.

“Of course I like you baby, why else would I be here?”

“Well,” you started, “I don’t know…”

“Oh, you know.”

“I know you like me, it’s just like— we aren’t like… you know.”

“Gonna have to use your words sweetheart.”

You looked forward as you tried to find the best way to say this, you decided to just rip the bandaid off.

“We haven’t kissed! Or anything! You just hug me or wrap your arm around my waist, but we haven’t done nothin’ ‘kuna. And I’m not sayin’ that’s any indicator of how much you like me, I’m just sayin’ it’d be ni—”

You anticipated this kiss, not only because you did everything in your power to set it up, but you could feel Sukuna’s eyes latching onto the way your lips moved while talking. His lips were just as soft as you imagined, tasting like cherry carmex and popcorn. His hand found its way to the side of your face, cupping it gently until he moved it to tilt your chin up towards him. Your mouth opened a little from the change in angle, giving Sukuna’s tongue access to the warmth yours had to offer. He melted deeper into the kiss, and so did you, as it continued to get more sloppy and wet. You could tell he was eager, swirling and dancing on the tip of your tongue, sucking it harshly like he was trying to gather as much saliva as possible. Just to pull back and have it leak out of his mouth, dripping down both his and your chin. It was downright nasty the way your fluids were colliding, but it turned you on an unbelievable amount. Whining and groaning into him, rubbing your thighs together, lacking the correct amount of friction from wearing a dress instead of pants.

Your hand started traveling to his chest and lower, and he could tell you were really riled up at this point simply from the way you were tugging on his shirt. He pulled his lips off yours, making you reach out for him still since your eyes were closed. When you opened them, you were able to see the true mess you two caused. Sukuna was drooling, his heavy lidded eyes not daring to move from your frame. His hair was everywhere, and you couldn’t be happier with your hairstyle of choice.

“Fuck baby,” he said while rubbing on the sides of your stomach, “I really need you. I’ve been needin’ you. Yer just so damn sexy, of course I’ve been wantin’ to do stuff. Just didn’t wanna make you uncomfortable.” He leaned in to kiss your cheek and up to the shell of your ear, “Never want you uncomfortable.”

And that sent you over, you cupped his face with both of your hands, kissing him hard. He growled from your sudden dominance, and with a few swift movements, pulled his seat back and slid you over the middle console and into his lap. Your dress hiked up to your thighs once you straddled him, allowing Sukuna to feel just how wet you were. With one hand on your face, and the other on your waist, he slowly made his way down to your cunt.

“So fuckin’ wet for me,” he whispered against your lips, making slow circles on your puffy clit. “This f’me? Say it’s for me babydoll.”

“It’s for you ‘kuna, it’s all for you. Please–” His fingers slid your panties to the side, revealing just how sticky you were for him. Your pussy was basically crying to be touched, and Sukuna was a gentleman, of course.

His mouth never left yours, left hand now resting behind your neck, while his other is furiously rubbing your bare clit. Your moans were being swallowed by Sukuna’s mouth, and when the pleasure finally got to be too much, you suddenly threw your head back with a yelp. Catching yourself immediately, you press your forehead into his.

“‘M sorry, fuck, ‘m sorry— it’s t-too much.”

“Don’t apologize princess, I love seein’ you act like this. So slutty.”

Your tits have barely been able to stay concealed in your already showy dress. They spilled out on their own from your sporadic movements, and once Sukuna could see one, he dropped everything to unveil the other and fondle them both. You kept grinding on his very hard dick, keeping up the rhythm he set up for you while he went to town on your boobs. Massaging them, pinching and flicking the nipples, mumbling things like “fuckin’ shit they’re so soft,” and “need to fuck you.” It wasn’t long before he popped one into his mouth, sucking on it, making it soo much more sensitive. You were squealing at this point, Sukuna looked up at you to see the tears forming at the corner of your eyes. With a ‘pop’ he brought his attention back to your beautiful face. Somehow fucked out just from dry humping. How cute, he thought to himself.

“Look at me, princess.” You struggled, but your eyes met his, still striving for your release. “‘M gonna fuck you, okay? Is that what you want?” You started nodding your head yes like a damn puppy.

“Need to hear you say it princess. Tell me you want it.”

“Wan’ it s-so bad baby, fuck me, I need you to fuck me.”

The thing about pick-up trucks is that there’s not really a backseat, which means you’d have to ride him right where you were. This wouldn’t have been a problem, until Sukuna quickly pulled down his pants and boxers, revealing probably the biggest dick you’ve ever seen. It was the fucking length that scared you. It wasn’t too thick, but girthy enough that it, plus his length, would have your legs shaking for days. He gave his dick slow strokes while you took off your dress, suddenly feeling embarrassed from being the only one naked. He could see you get self conscious by the way you try and hide yourself like the day he met you.

“Whatcha lookin’ at me like that for,” his eyes were still focused on yours while he prepared himself, licking his lips like he was genuinely going to eat you later.

“I can’t look at ya? You just look so damn good sweetheart. Can’t believe yer all mine.”

“You don’t have to gas me up now,” you said looking away.

“Nuh-uh,” he grabbed your cheeks and turned your face back to his, “I’ma always tell you how good you look. Don’t act so shy now baby.”

Your pussy clenched around nothing at his statement, still leaking from the previous foreplay. He pulled your forehead to his lips, kissing it tenderly, and when he let go of your face he asked you one last time if you were ready. You whisper out a shy yes and grab his dick cautiously, lining it up with your entrance as you slowly lower yourself onto it. You let out a sharp grasp as Sukuna rests his hands on the sides of your hips, trying to assist in any way he can. Once you’re close to bottoming out, he starts whispering praises.

“Doin’ so good babydoll.”

“Look at you takin’ me so well.

Every time he spoke your pussy would clench around him, making him hiss and choke back a whine. Once he was all the way inside you, you let out a breathe you didn’t realize you were holding. You raised your head to look at him instead of the way he was stretching you out. There’s that smirk again. One of his hands finds it’s way back to your clit, rubbing slow circles like before to help you relax. You were so tense but you tried to keep a level-headed face, even though it literally felt like you were being split in two.

You felt your walls get used to his size and shape, feeling them contort and mold into Sukuna’s cocksleeve. With that, you start riding him slowly, using his shoulders to stay balanced. You got the hang of it quickly and began picking up pace. He was still stimulating your clit, using his other hand to keep guiding your body up and down. It was clear that you were struggling to take him all in though, pausing every few seconds to catch your breathe or readjust yourself. And this would just not do for Sukuna.

He gripped and slapped your ass hard.

“Gotta do better than that baby.”

Smack

“C’mon sweetheart, put your fucking. back. into. it.”

Each emphasis on a word was coupled with a hard thrust and loud whines coming from the depths of your throat. The sounds you were both making at this point bounced around the truck. There wasn’t a moment of silence and you felt blissful. Lulling your tongue out just for Sukuna to catch between his teeth; moving his hand back to bully your clit, and using his free hand to grab your face and continue fucking his hips up into yours. He was growling obscenities into your ear, “Yeah baby, just like that keep fucking me like that.”

“Sukuna, please! Fuckfuckfuck I can’t,” you were bouncing on his dick beautifully, tits bouncing in unison and he truly believed you were unreal.

“Yes you can baby,” he gave your face light slaps, “keep those eyes open, keep lookin’ at me baby. Doin’ so good, I promise.” You were leaking like a faucet down his dick and balls, and with a certain thrust, you were sure he was hitting your cervix. The string of cries that came out of your mouth made him go faster, harder, knowing that he finally found the spot that makes you weak.

“Am I makin’ you feel good baby?”

“Mhmm, y-yesss, so so good.”

“Yes who?” Your eyes were crossing trying to look at him, confused at what he meant at first, but as his thrusts got rougher you knew exactly what he was getting at.

“Y-yes daddy, it feels so good.” You were slightly embarrassed by the things you were saying, the noises too. You felt so dirty, but in a good way. Searching for your release that was so close.

Sukuna was close too, but he didn’t want that to come before he made you gush all over his dick. When he found his way to your neck, kissing and biting and sucking on your precious skin, you were done.

“Fuck daddy right there!”

“Here sweetheart? You like this?”

“Yesyesyes don’t stop please don’t stop–” and with a cry you were creaming all over Sukuna’s dick. Your pussy clamped down on him so tight, he couldn’t help but look down at the beautiful mess you made all over his thighs. He kept fucking you through your orgasm, causing you to become incredibly overstimulated. Sukuna was getting close, you could tell by his relentless strokes, forgetting any type of consistent pace. His hands were on your hips now, pistoning up into you as your head rested gracefully on his shoulder.

“Mm babydoll gimme a kiss, c’mere.”

When your shaky lips met his, he was sent into overdrive.

“Fuck ‘m gonna cum. Fuck baby, where do you want it.”

Absolutely fucked out, you tried to come up with some sort of cohesive thought. “I-insi..de ‘kuna. In m-me.”

“You sure? Tell me you’re fuckin’ sure, yer milkin’ me baby.”

“I’m s-sure. Please please just cum inside me!”

“Oh, fuckkk…” Sukuna’s load filled your pussy to the brim, leaking out to coat the sides of his dick. He made you feel so full and warm. Finally stopping his thrusts, you hunch over his shoulder and he begins rubbing what feels like hearts on your back, humming into your ear how good you were for him, dick never leaving your pussy.

“Did such a good job princess. So fuckin’ good, are you an angel? Must be an angel, the way you dropped into my life like this.”

“Mmmm I’m your angel ‘kuna. I was made for you only.”

Although the moment was wholesome, your mind immediately flooded with the thought of you leaving in a few weeks.

How were you supposed to leave after this?

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

hope you enjoyed ;) and let me know if i missed anything as far as my content ahead section goes!

tags: @aiyaaayei

[lesbianluverr]

girls like girls | uraraka x f! reader

Hey everyone! This is a Urarka x fem reader. There is no use of names besides hers, and no descriptions besides that this is a girlxgirl fic. This is my first ever fanfic and it's not proofread, so please keep that in mind!

Intro:

It was a winter night, Uraraka and you had been spending the whole night gossiping, watching movies, eating snacks, and just enjoying one another’s company. You both had been friends since the very first day of going to UA, and you guys were inseparable. It was to the point if either one of you were missing during class, Mr. Aizawa or All Might would ask where the other one was. You guys were that close.

Fortunately, you guys also both live in a dorm together, sharing the communal duties, like cleaning and cooking (even though she was definitely the better cook). You guys were beyond comfortable with one another, there were no secrets, nothing. 

The only small issue was, you had a giant crush on your best friend. You liked her. But why ruin everything? It's not like you know if she even actually likes girls, she’s never really “came out” or even mentioned girls before… but it's not like she’s mentioned any boys either. 

[⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡]

We were giggling at the movie we were watching (it was definitely Mean Girls for like the 100th time) and I laid my head on her chest, keeping my hand over her stomach as she played with my hair. It wasn’t something that was unusual for us, physical touch was a massive thing in our friendship, but I couldn’t help but fall for her more and more each time.

“Why is Regina such a massive dick- her and Janis just need to get together already!” I said bursting out laughing. “Like cmon-”

Uraraka’s laugh also filled the room, that sweet adorable giggle. I could never get enough of it. “You think they like each other?” She said, a little surprised, a small smile on her lips.

“Oh they definitely do,” I said looking back up at her smiling. Her face was so close to me, I could see that cute little light in her eyes, she literally looks like she’s made of glitter and sunshine. A small hint of pink scattered across my face from the close proximity of us two.

She let out a small giggle at my response. “You're probably not wrong, but they're sooo mean to each other though!” She said letting out a small laugh, with a hint of a whine at the movie’s odd dynamic.

I gave her a small shrug, still smiling and looking into her eyes. Honestly, I could care less about the movie right now, my entire focus was on her. The hint of pink on my face now became more noticeable as time passed and I kept just admiring her face.

Uraraka let out another small giggle, raising her eyebrows a slight bit. “Whaaaat?” She said, dragging out the word, a small hint of confusion in her words.

“Nothing- you’re just really pretty Chaco,” I said, my face turning even hotter now. I couldn’t help it, I always wanted to just be affectionate with her, show her how pretty she was, anything.

The smile on her face grew, and her usual blush appeared back onto her cheeks. She loved the nickname you had for her. “Thanks, so are you, you know-” She said giggling once again.

Would it really be the worst thing if I just confessed now? Just maybe, she feels the same way, or I'm just delusional. Probably the latter. Everyday was getting harder to be this close with her, spending so much time with her, having these sweet intimate moments with her. 

All I did was push myself into the nape of her neck, almost as if I was trying to hide from my own feelings with her comfort. I tightened my grip on her stomach, now fiddling with the hem of her shirt, a thing I always did when I was anxious.

“You okay?” She said softly, moving her arm to my back and rubbing small circles. Her touch, her presence, her warmth, it was so much. As I continued to bury myself into her neck further, I could smell her perfume, vanilla.

I heard her call out my name now, still trying to get my attention and have me talk to her. She was always so caring.

“I’m okay Chaco, don't worry,” I said gently back to her, but that hint of nervousness still flickered in my voice as I spoke. I knew she’d continue to encourage me to speak up, she always wanted to make sure I was okay.

“Are you sure? I’m here for you, you know that,” She said gently, once again. She continued to still rub small circles on my back, maintaining that warmth and comfort I desperately need right now. 

A let out a small sigh, reluctant, but I spilled my guts anyways.

I finally positioned myself to look at her, the blush on my face still evident, but you could just see how apprehensive I was to tell her. She won’t hate me, right? This won't change anything, it won’t. 

I continued to mess with the hem of her shirt, spinning the fabric in between my fingers, trying to get my heart to stop from beating out of my chest. “Chaco, this might be a bit odd but..” I hesitated before I kept going, breaking the eye contact I was trying hard to hold onto.

I felt her free hand cup my face, gently bringing my gaze back onto her. The worry in her eyes was soft, and it just made my heart beat even more.

“I like you,” I said to her gently, my voice trembling a bit.

And there it was, a small smile appeared on her face. “I like you too.”

“R-really?” I said in a bit of awe, a smile of my own now on my face. I was blushing like an idiot. My own best friend likes me back, this can’t be real.

“Yeah dummy,” She said giggling a bit, her thumb caressing my cheek. I could see that gentle look in her eyes, her gaze was full of affection and care.

I giggled back as well, my eyes becoming glossy from my excitement, my emotions were high, and I was just in awe. This beautiful girl, my best friend, my Chaco, liked me back? I just felt like I was on cloud nine, like I was floating. Actually, it felt even better than floating, and I could say from experience of Uraraka using her powers on me, this was a thousand times better.

“I didn’t even know you liked girls” I said a bit sheepishly, still in shock. I moved my arm from her stomach, now placing my own hand over hers that was on my cheek.

She gave me a small shrug back, that smile still on her face. “I never really talked about it to people before. I didn’t feel like I had to, I like who I like, even if that’s girls, I don’t see why that matters,” She said softly.

She wasn’t wrong. Girls like girls, it wasn’t any different from boys liking girls and vice versa. Totally would have been nice to know prior to having to spill my guts to her and taking a shot in the dark. 

I smiled at her, “Guess you’re not wrong.” 

I glanced down at her lips and back at her eyes. This moment felt intimate, different than anything we had before. A blush was still scattered on my face, especially from how close we were, and the things we just said.

I noticed she glanced down at my lips too. Her own blush became more prevalent as we just spent time in this position. 

I felt her pull my face closer to hers, and then she pressed her lips against mine. It was gentle, sweet- nothing like I had ever experienced before. I couldn’t help but melt into the kiss. Her lips felt warm, familiar, and there it was, the hint of vanilla on her lips too. The kiss lingered for a moment, before we pulled back. 

We both giggled a bit, as the blush remained on our dumb and lovestruck faces.

[quillandink22]

A dick winters imagine please

Like one where winters has loved the reader since tocoa and the two are best friends. The war is over and they are in Austria and he asks her to go for a morning swim. The two get close and he confess that he loves her and she loves him to. Like fluffy.

This has literally been on my mind all day since I read it. I hope my writing does it justice. Points is one of my favourite episodes. A girl can't help but appreciate Damien Lewis shirtless. Anyway, heres my take on your prompt :)

Treading Water

It was early morning. You had planned to sleep in, given that for the first time in what seemed like forever, you had nothing in particular to do. This should have been a relief, but the silence felt like a precursor to the screams for a medic you were hardwired to follow. Even now, in the tranquil embrace of Austria, your body hadn’t seemed to grasp the fact that it was finally safe. The men, for the most part, were safe too. Your job, at least for the moment, was done. But still, you couldn’t quite sleep in. You couldn’t allow yourself to relax.

You woke with the birds each morning, dressed in your uniform with the medic’s badge strapped to your arm, and headed to the lake. Clad for war, yet carrying only a sketchpad and pencil, you were a paradox. By the time the sun rose, you were nestled on the banks of the lake, sketching or attempting to sketch the world around you. You’d never seen such beauty. The way the lake stretched out almost endlessly, its crystal-clear waters reflecting the sky above. The alpine slopes rose in the distance, jagged rocks contrasting with the soft blanket of pine needles that covered the soil at the edge of the water.

It was peaceful, a state you’d grown to loathe but were trying to readjust to. There seemed to be plenty of adjustments to make. But jumping into the Pacific war zone had put a stop to any plans you’d started to make about going home. In truth, you had no idea what life would look like now. You had changed so much in the past three years. Was it even possible to go back to the way things were? To the person you once were?

"We seem to have the same idea."

You jumped slightly, too preoccupied with your drawing and thoughts to hear the approaching footsteps. "Sorry, I didn’t mean to sneak up on you," Dick spoke, slightly awkwardly. He stood just as awkwardly, back pin-straight, perhaps a habit ingrained in him.

"No, it’s my fault. I was miles away," you offered, settling yourself. You dropped your art supplies gently to the ground. "Going swimming?" you asked, gesturing to the towel draped over his shoulder. You couldn’t help but appreciate his outfit. It had been a while since you’d seen Dick in anything other than his uniform. His white T-shirt clung to him, highlighting the body he’d forged during training, though you could tell he’d lost weight. You all had these past few months. Still, he was nothing short of perfect in your eyes, though you had never told him that out loud.

"Thinking about it." He smiled before dropping down beside you. His long legs stretched out before him as he made himself comfortable on the blanket you’d laid out beneath you. "So this is where you’ve been hiding. It’s nice. Pretty," he said, his eyes watching you intently.

"I’ve just needed some time to think, I guess."

"About?"

"Everything," the word left your body almost as a sigh. "The last three years. The future. I don’t know, I feel like my mind’s going a mile a minute."

"I know the feeling," he spoke softly, leaning back to watch the lake, his mind clearly drifting away.

"Yeah?"

"Nix offered me a job."

"That’s good, right?" You smiled, genuinely excited that at least one of you seemed to be sorting their life out. Yet you could hear the apprehension in his voice.

"You think?" He tilted his head back to you. It struck you how close you’d become these last three years. How much he valued your opinion. "I’m not sure I’d be any good at it. I don’t know anything about fertilizer or business for that matter."

"You’re joking. All those people to boss around," you teased. "You’ll be in your element."

"Careful," he warned with no malice, the corners of his lips curling into a smile. You loved his smile. It was almost infectious. You’d long since made it your mission to make it a regular occurrence. To see his dimples or the little creases on the bridge of his nose when he laughed.

"I’m kidding. Well, not really." You nudged him with your elbow, an act of measured intimacy. "You should take it. Go settle down and leave all this war business behind you. I would."

"How many points are you short?" He looked more stoic now, the realization perhaps only now hitting him.

"Too many. I was never injured, and they don’t tend to award female medics medals." You shrugged it off like it didn’t matter. Like it wasn’t the thing that kept you awake most nights. "Tab offered to marry me for points, but I’d still be short." You joked, trying to lift the mood. There was nothing he could do about it. If you had to jump, you’d jump. You’d take up the mantle of medic again and watch over your boys.

He didn’t laugh; perhaps your demeanour didn’t match your tone. He was too good at reading you.

"Fancy a swim?" he suddenly offered.

"I'm not dressed for it," you replied with a laugh, your attire making it plainly obvious. "You go, I’ll still be brooding here when you get back." Another joke that seemed to fall flat, given the concerned look he sent your way.

You pulled out your sketchpad once more as he headed to the end of the pier. Pencil in hand, you intended to continue the landscape you’d begun, but it quickly became impossible when Dick pulled his shirt over his head. He looked over his shoulder, undoubtedly to make sure you hadn’t brooded yourself to death.

You offered a lopsided grin, praying he was far enough away not to see the blush rising in your cheeks. Your heart seemed to stop and speed up simultaneously. It was ridiculous—he was one of your best friends, had been since Toccoa. He was one of the first to accept you as you were, reassuring you endlessly when Sobel seemed hell-bent on kicking you to the curb. Even as he climbed the ranks throughout the war, he was always there for you. The men often thought him shy—he hadn’t earned the nickname "Frosty" for nothing—but you never saw him that way. He was, in many ways, your rock, never more so than in Bastogne.

In those frozen woods, you lost bits of yourself, lost men you regarded as family. Never before had you felt so useless as a medic, so helpless. There were times when the thought of lifting your body from your foxhole and running towards a scream terrified you so much you froze. You couldn’t face another body, another man begging to be saved when you knew you couldn’t help—that no medic could. In those dark days, you sought him out. He’d offer you coffee, or what passed for it, and just listened. He’d put an arm around your shoulders, pull you close, and tell you stories from home, of his family. You never told him how much that meant, how it had saved you. Fear held you back—fear that if you opened your mouth, you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from telling him how you felt, from telling him you loved him. He was your best friend, and losing him, even now when you felt stronger, was too much to bear. It was too big a risk. So, you remained quiet.

----------------------------------------------------------

Dick turned for a split second to check on you. It hadn’t occurred to him that you wouldn't have enough points to go home. How foolish of him to assume. No wonder you’d been distant since the announcement that Easy Company was destined for another jump. It didn’t seem fair; he’d seen how hard you worked, how you pushed yourself to the bone to look after the company. The toll it often took on you. The thought of you jumping again without him there to watch out for you terrified him.

He dove off the pier, the cold water shocking his system. It was colder than it looked, and he liked that; it usually helped clear his mind. But you remained fixed in his thoughts. You always did. Ever since you stepped into Toccoa, you occupied his mind more than he cared to admit. He hadn’t had the courage to speak to you until the rumor spread that you were involved in a possible appendectomy on Sobel. He’d asked you straight out, equal parts curious and awed. He hated Sobel, still did, but he’d never have chanced something like that, as much as he might have wished to. You just smiled innocently, with a twinkle in your eye that said the opposite. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t fallen for you in that moment. In truth, he’d been falling for you ever since. But he outranked you and worried that starting something more than friendship would risk your position in the company. He refused to lose you. Nix had called him out on his lack of action several times, joking that Dick was a coward where you were concerned. Maybe he was right. Perhaps it wasn’t just rank but fear of rejection. He didn’t fear much, but losing you was something he refused to allow.

He resurfaced for a breath, only to hear the sound of a splash. It drew him from the rhythm of swimming. His feet and arms now treaded water as he watched your head surface. Your hair was plastered to your head, making your face stand out more, highlighting your natural beauty. He knew he was turning red; he could feel the burn in his face, the heat rising to the tips of his ears. You had stripped down to your underwear. Though he couldn’t see you clearly, he couldn’t stop his mind from filling in the blanks. Worse still, you were swimming straight for him, effortlessly cutting through the water.

"I got sick of brooding," you said, beaming as you stopped a few feet from him, treading water to stay afloat.

"Right, well, swimming helps... you know, with brooding. Clears the mind." He rambled on, hoping you’d stop him before he drowned himself in embarrassment. "I..." he started, unsure of what to say as his brain blanked. Awkward silences were never something he’d associated with you. He saw how confused you were, watching him with that expression you reserved for wounded men. Perhaps you thought he was having a stroke. Instead of speaking, he raised his hand and flicked water at your face.

---------------------------------------------------------

Jumping into the lake half-dressed was probably a stupid idea. You didn’t know why you did it. Well, you did. God, it was a bad idea. He looked at you like you were crazy and splashed water in your face. When you finally regained your eyesight and saw his terrified expression, you laughed—laughed like you hadn’t in quite some time.

"If it’s a battle you want, Major, it’s a battle you’ll get," you teased confidently. You gave him no time to register it before blasting a wave of water in his direction and swimming away at speed. It took all your self-control not to laugh and inhale half the lake in the process.

You were just about to chance looking over your shoulder when a hand wrapped around your ankle, pulling you back towards him. His hand met your shoulder, dunking you momentarily under the water.

"Oy," you protested when you resurfaced, only to have more water thrown in your face.

"If you’re jumping, I’m jumping," he suddenly said as you wiped the water from your eyes.

"What?" you blurted breathlessly.

"The Pacific. If you jump, I jump."

You were still treading water, realizing just how close you both were. His red hair was a mess, beads of water trickling down his handsome face.

"I can’t ask you to do that."

"I’m not asking your opinion. I’m telling you my plans." He smiled, his mind set in stone. You knew it from the determination that shrouded his face.

"Dick..." you began, ready to tell him to go home, to take his points and get clear of the mess you’d be facing. You wanted him safe, even if that meant he wouldn’t be there with you.

"I love you."

You couldn’t quite believe what he’d just said. His hand moved slowly to rest on your bare waist. "I have for a while. You don’t have to say it back. I wouldn’t expect it. I just needed you to know."

Your eyes locked, and time stood still. Everything that held you back slipped away—all worries and doubts long forgotten as you swam forward. You gave him little warning before your lips met his. For a second, he didn’t move, too shocked. But then you felt his hand pull your waist closer to his. His lips, softer than you expected, moved against yours as your arms wrapped around his neck.

His hands roamed your back, leaving a trail of warmth despite the cold water surrounding you. You felt his heart pounding against your chest, matching the rapid beat of your own. Every touch, every sensation, was magnified in the quiet intimacy of the lake. You pulled back slightly, just enough to see his eyes, full of relief and passion. He smiled, a genuine, heartfelt smile and the words you needed found your lips.

"I love you," you replied, your voice confident and sure as you leaned in for another kiss, this one even more tender and filled with promise.

[syppys-den]

The DC Universe as vines

John Constantine: Hey bro what do you want to eat?

Etrigan: THE SOULS OF THE INNOCENT~

Jason Blood: A Bagel

Etrigan: NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Jason: (glances at Etrigan) two bagels (smugly)

WHO’S THAT POKEMON!? (shows Superman silhouette)

IT’S PIKACHU!!!!!!

IT’S CLEFAIRY! (shows Captain Marvel)

FUUUUUUUUUUUUU-

Madam Xanadu: if you are here speak to us

Deadman: JUST A CITY BOOIII!!!! BORN AND RAISED IN SOUTH DETROI-

Bruce: this is… so dumb…

Clark: the higher I am the better I can see

Bruce: you can- you can fly-

Clark: hush now gregory! I am searching!

Diana: like I really wanna teach yoga and zen and overall centeredness but I also like to really kill and STAB people on the weekends!

Kara: hey! How you doing? Well I’m doing just fine! I lied. I’m dying inside-

IDK: hey do you have any shaving cream?

J’onn: no i don’t like the way it tastes

IDK: wait you eat shaving cream?

J’onn no why would I eat it if I don’t like the taste?

Bruce: hey let me see what you have!

Damian: A KNIFE!

Bruce: NOOO!!!!!

Bruce: In the winter I like to dress in a cozy black jacket shirt and jeans~ in the summer I wear the same thing because I look good in black and I’m willing to suffer!

Lex: I didn’t ask to be born perfect. I demanded it.

Gordon: Detective this is a crime scene

Bullock: WHAT IS THIS THE MURDER WEAPON!? GET OFF MY DICK!!!

J’onn: Oh yeah I can do a pretty good human! (transforms) ahem Hel-lo! I-have-a-job! I’m going to work!

Krypto: yeah that’s pretty good!

Hippolyta: Son?

Diana: Yes Papa!

Hippolyta: How old are you?

Diana: I am three Papa!

Hippolyta: Take this knife, go hunt bear

Diana: Just one?

Hippolyta: Ho ho!

Kilowog: How does it feel to be the worst cop ever huh!? Sinestro: shutupyourmothabuysyoumegabloksinsteadolegos!

Kilowog: You fuckin take that back y-

John Constantine: Hey there demons it’s me, ya boi

Kara: EARTHLING TAKE ME TO YOUR LEADER!

Lois: (sigh) this is him (shows president Luthor)

Kara: Oh ma gaw- I’m so sorry!

Lois: I’M SORRY FOR US-

Dick: We uh… don’t know who killed him…

Damian: May I make a suggestion?

Dick: WE’RE NOT GONNA CUT HIM OPEN PHIL!

Damian: YOU GUYS ARE BORING!

Kara: I may suffer from anxiety and depression but I’m still a queen

Bruce: (looking at the Joker’s body) He’s dead…

Dick: (Nudges Clark’s shoulder)

Clark: “Not the dickhead!” what do you want me to say!?

Diana: I’m so bored!

Clark: I wish Ryan was here!

Arthur: HEY GUYS!

Both: RYAN!!!

John Constantine: I was thinking I could do some magic!

Jason Blood: You!? Magic!? Charles! It says TALENT show!

Bruce: Show me the Police Sketch! What the- what the hell is this?

Eel: ART. Okay!

Bruce: OW FUCK!

Gordon: WHO’S THERE!?

Bruce: NOBODY FUCK OFF!!!

Harley: what would you do if there was a child right in front of you?

Joker: dgfghjfdkjsdiuj!!!

Harvey: I’m attorney Doug, you need a lawyer? Well don’t call me! I’m busy!

Lois: Who the fuck are yiou?

Clark (as Superman): Who the fuck are yiou?

Lois: I asked you first!

Clark: I asked you second!

[kingofthe-egirls]

Omg! Omg!

Phone Sex after Part. Luffy is back, late at night, still texting with her and he can't wait to see her agin, so detour to her home, and both desperate and happy to see each other again 👀👀

wait wait WAIT OMG ok ok ok

PHONE SEX: LUFFY x Y/N (part 2)

modern au

(cw: flirting, sweet fluff, self-harm scars, shower sex, spider mention, silliness, sweetness, comfort, blowjob, sex, cunnilingus, food mention)

(a/n: the line "enough to make me supernova" is something i wrote a long time ago, back when i was in high school and had no idea what love was, except that i was sure it had to hurt. guess what, teenage writer? you're still a poet. you're happy now, and you have a partner who loves you so much that you can't even handle it sometimes. he makes you cum, all the time!!! effortlessly and without sadness. i love you, lady.)

"You want me to love you in moderation?

Do I look moderate to you?"

Songs: "Moderation" by Florence + the Machine, "Reality Television" by Maude Latour, "No Rush" by Maude Latour, "Lovebomb" by Maude Latour

words: 4.7k

As soon as his plane touches down, Luffy is searching your address on his phone. He's gonna see you, now.

It's been a week.

One whole long week where he's had to reduce himself to jerking off to your smiling videos, or searching your PornHub for new content. He knows you only film one week in advance, videos weekly scheduled as you queue them up. He's watched your latest (a cute clown girl cosplay) and replayed it over a scant thirty times.

Hey, you're hot, okay?

And he has ADHD too: he hyperfixates on things. And watching you suck a silicone dick with a cute red nose and turquoise wig is enough to make him supernova. He stands up as soon as he's able, and reaches overhead for his black-and-red duffel bag.

****

Luffy trudges along the snowy streets, making his way to your apartment complex. He hunches his shoulders against the freezing winds, not so used to the winter weather. He wonders how you can live here all year round. Or, even stay in one place at all. He's got a few houses dotted around the country, plus an apartment in New York City. He travels between them as it suits him.

He likes freedom.

So do you, apparently, as he notes your lifestyle: you're polyamorous, with a long-term girlfriend named Nami. She's sweet as can be (when she needs something). She'd swiped Sanji right away, the first night you all went out together as friends.

The first time you'd kissed.

He hums, smiling at the memory despite the cold. He hugs his arms around himself for warmth, shivering in just his track suit and sneakers.

why do u have to live somewhere so cold??

He texts you, typing with frozen thumbs. Snowflakes gather on his phone screen, as he sees your ellipses pop up.

sorry lol

It's all he gets til he's buzzing his way up to your apartment. It's a one-bedroom you share with your girlfriend (who is politely out of the apartment for the weekend, spending some much needed spa time with friends). He steps through the glass door of your brownstone apartment building, and makes his way up the carpeted stairs.

It's three flights up, with snow falling outside the staircase windows.

Luffy stops in front of your door.

He knocks.

After just one rap of his knuckles, you open the door. You're standing there in shorts and a t-shirt. You're sparkling and alive, and Luffy feels something clench in his chest. He smiles, big as can be, and wraps you up in his arms without a second thought.

"Luffy!" You cry, arms trapped by your sides as he bear hugs you. Your feet lift off the floor. He's strong, you think.

"Missed you so much!!!" He sings into your hair, nestling his nose in the dark strands so he can breathe you in. "Mm, ya smell nice."

You flush, suffocated slightly.

"Missed you too!" You squeak, nuzzling against his cheek. His face is cold and chapped from the wind. "Come inside!" You breathe as he sets you down, "I've got dirty dishes in the sink so don't look."

Luffy laughs, loud and unashamed, as he scoots in after you. He sets his duffel bag down by the door. He kicks off his shoes (designer brand, you notice, with barely a scuff) and skips happily into your studio.

He crashes onto your daybed immediately. It's barely big enough to fit you and Nami, and Luffy's dangling limbs easily take up the whole space. He spreads out like he owns the place, and you snort.

"Want some hot cocoa?" You ask, heading to your tea kettle.

"Yes!!!" Luffy screams, already excited. You turn around to shush him, reminding the professional athlete of your neighbors. "Oh," he says sheepishly, "Sorry, shishi."

He's so cute.

You hum, singing happily under your breath as you start to heat up the water. You're out of milk, so Luffy's just gonna have to deal. It's the Swiss cocoa with marshmallows though, so hopefully that makes up for it. Luffy's never turned down food or drink as far as you've noticed, so you try to let the stress of having him here in your space roll down your shoulders and off your back. You close your eyes, and take a deep breath. The kettle starts to sing, and your pour the hot water into two mugs, the chocolate powder already set in the bottom.

"Here," you hand Luffy his cocoa. He slurps it immediately, and gasps at the heat. "Sorry," you grin, sitting down next to him on the bed. You lean over to blow on his drink, cooling it down. Steam curls around his cute, squishy cheeks. You lean forward to peck a kiss on the one closest to you: the one with the scar.

"Where'd you get that?"

Luffy shrugs.

"Stabbed myself."

You choke, spluttering on the hot cocoa. Hot liquid spurts onto your thighs, staining your shorts, and you grimace. You swipe the chocolate drops away, licking your fingers of the sticky sweetness. "Why?"

"Wanted to prove somethin'."

You nod.

"Here," you say, reaching quietly across your body to show him your left forearm. It's marked up in self-harm scars, uneven and sad. "I stabbed myself, too. Well, more like sliced. Sorry," your cheeks heat up as you realize you're talking way too violent for this conversation. Luffy traces the barcode-like scars on your skin.

"Means you're alive," he says simply. And then, "Sorry."

You shake your head. "S'okay. They're old, anyway." You don't show him the scars on your thigh. Bright red and fresh, you're too embarrassed to admit how current your struggle is to him. At least, not yet.

"So," he smiles, gripping his hand around your wrist. "What comes after cocoa?"

Luffy plants a kiss on your forearm, and your face heats up. You look away, too ashamed to mention how much you appreciate his care.

"Watch a movie?" You suggest, softly pulling your arm back into your lap. He scoots closer, wrapping his arms own, muscular arms around you. His t-shirt smells like sweat. "Was it a long flight?"

"Oh, just a couple hours," he lies.

You smirk, bumping your shoulder into his. "We can take a shower if you want," you suggest, arching an eyebrow. He grins maliciously, and your heart flutters. You swallow.

"Sure, kitty."

****

Butterfly decals line your shower's walls, pink and purple and blue fluttering over the white porcelain tile. Luffy scrubs a washcloth over your back, both of you standing naked in the steaming water.

"Hmm," you sigh, letting your shoulders relax. He caresses your sides with the washcloth, letting his other hand snake around your waist. He's so warm, soap sliding between your bodies as he brings you into his heated chest. He smells like the charcoal-eucalyptus facewash you let him use from Nami's shelf of shower necessities. (Your girlfriend won't mind, will she?) Luffy bites at your earlobe.

"Pretty kitty," he croons, rubbing his soft hands over your breasts. He squeezes gently, washing them with soap. The bubbles gather on your chest, sliding around in slippery iridescence. He presses a hot, wet cheek against yours, his chin resting on your shoulder. He sways with you slightly, in the water. His back is closest to the stream: with you standing in front. You trace the butterfly stickers with an index finger, trying to stay upright. Your heat is dripping between your legs, you can already tell.

"Luffyyy," you moan, complaining almost at what he does to you. To your body. He's got this freaking Midas touch, sending golden shivers down your spine at every flick of his calloused fingertips.

"Whaaat?" He grins against your ear: tightening his arms around your waist. Your ass presses against his already hardening cock. You gasp, slightly, and he giggles. His wet hair presses into your jaw.

"Luffy," you say again, breaths coming heavy in your chest, "Fuck me?"

Luffy's breath hitches, his hands tightening around your ribcage. He slides his palms up to cup your breasts, feeling their heaviness in his hands. He groans, biting softly into your shoulder.

"Say please, sweetheart," he says against your ear, voice raspy. He thumbs at your nipples, and you squeal.

"Please, Luffy!" I want you to fuck me so badly.

"If you insist," he giggles, reaching his hand down to slide along your belly. Rinsing his fingers off quickly in the stream of hot water, he deftly finds your clit and starts swiping at it. His fingers are rough from years of martial arts, but you don't mind.

"Mm, lower," you huff, leaning your head back against his shoulder. He kisses your cheek, wet and sloppy with a pop.

"Like that?" He asks, hoarse.

"Mhmm," you nod, letting your eyes fall shut as hot water sings down your face. It trickles down your neck, your collarbones, in the space between your breasts. Luffy holds you close, taking your weight in his strong arms. He stands behind you with the water running down his tanned back, spraying the side of his sweet face. You turn to plant messy kisses along the side of his neck, too.

He fingers you like that for a bit, waiting for your moans to start becoming headier, edgier, needier. "There...," he breathes, once you start heaving stuttering breaths through your open mouth, "Bend over for me, sweetheart." He gently runs one hand down your back, sending you forward to support yourself against the edge of the tub.

"S'alright?" He asks, poking at your entrance with his rock-hard tip. You see stars, pussy clenching uncontrollably.

"Yes, Luffy," you squeak, spreading your legs so he has ample room. He squeezes your ass cheeks, spreading those apart, too. He sighs as he inspects your pussy, fingering softly at the wet folds.

"S'pretty for me," he praises you, rubbing one hand over your ass. He gives the cheeks another squeeze, humming softly as he presses in.

"Shit," you whine, stretched out. "So big, Lu..."

Luffy giggles, and starts fucking you shallowly. "Let's getcha used to me, hm?" He starts off slow, sliding his cock in and out of your entrance. "Feels so good, kitty," he groans, pressing in just a little bit deeper. It stings, but it's sweet. You moan, biting your lip as you rock your hips back onto his cock. He snickers, "Want more?"

"Mhmm!" You croon, spreading your legs as wide as the narrow tub will let you. Your feet are flat on the tub, hands holding onto the edge next to your shampoo bottles and facewash. A small, spindly shape slips out from behind your shower gel, and you shriek. Spider.

"Luffy!!"

You slam back upwards, away from the spider, and hit the back of your head square against his jaw.

"Ack!" Luffy shouts, reeling backward from the weight of your blow. His back hits the tile wall, and he slips. Soon enough, you're both tumbling down and half-out of the still-steaming shower.

"Spider!!!" You shriek, scrabbling out of the shower to stand sopping wet on the bathroom floor. "Kill it!!!!"

"Ah, shit--," Luffy croaks, shutting off the water finally. He stands dripping in the tub, the shower curtain pulled to the side and tangled up. He shakes his wet hair like a dog. "Where?"

"There!" You point at the green bottle of shampoo, closing your eyes against the nightmare image. Arachnophobia. You squirm, reaching for a towel and retreating out into the living space. You leave a trail of wet footprints on the uneven floorboards.

Luffy shuffles around a bit, but eventually shouts, "Got 'em!"

"Thanks," you whisper, shivering as you sit on your bed, toweling off your soaking hair. You sit naked, with your pussy aching from the short-lived sex. Your mood has quickly soured, however, and you lean down to pull a t-shirt from the drawers beneath your daybed.

"Hey, you okay?" Luffy walks back into the room, raven hair shoved backward from his face, revealing a soft widow's peak.

You swallow, shaking your head. "Sorry," you mumble, "Scared."

"S'okay," he says, wrapping a towel around his waist. It hangs low around his hips, the deep line of his V disappearing into the faded purple terrycloth. He comes over to sit next to you on the thin mattress. Your patchy quilt folds beneath his weight.

"You scared of spiders?" He knocks his shoulder into yours. You nod, jaw set, as you pull your black t-shirt on over your head. You lean forward, gathering your hair into a messy bun. It's unbrushed and tangled, but right now you don't really care.

When you flip back up, adjusting the soaking strands, Luffy is staring at you. His brown eyes are shimmering, slightly. "What?"

"So pretty," he murmurs, smiling. He pokes at your cheek, and then takes your chin in his hand. He makes you face him, meeting your eyes. His are wide, and serious. You try not to shy away.

"Spiders are your enemies, then?" He asks, eyebrows drawn down over his face. You nod, seriously. Luffy thumbs your bottom lip. "So now they're my enemy too. I'll take care of the house spiders, for you."

Suddenly, you burst into tears.

"M'sorry!" You say, sniffing, "I just--really hate bugs."

Luffy wraps an arm around your shoulders. His bare skin slides across yours, still wet from the shower. You lean into him, slightly. He sighs, squeezing your upper arm with rough fingers.

"Is this a bad time to mention that beetles are my favorite animal?"

You snort, sobs subsiding as you wipe the heel of your palm across your face. "Seriously?" You ask, sniffling. Luffy nods, sheepish. He scratches a hand through his crow-feather hair.

"S'that a deal breaker?"

You shake your head, laughing a little. "Nope," you say, standing up off the bed. You squat down to rifle through your daybed's drawers. Lilac panties and short shorts are the way to go.

You dress, casually flaunting your bare lower half in front of Luffy. He grins, standing up to slide his warm hands beneath your t-shirt. They softly circle around your waist, pressing into the skin just below your ribcage. He sways you, side to side.

Luffy nuzzles his nose into your cheek. He smells like Nami's soap, which is kinda weird, but sorta satisfying at the same time. You peck a kiss on his cheek, just below his scar.

"So long as you don't, like, put beetles in my bed, I'm fine."

Luffy snorts. "Has that happened before?"

You shift uncomfortably, under his hold. You scratch your heel against the bare wooden floor. "Maybe."

Luffy scowls, ducking his head to make you meet his eyes. They're sunlit from the window, snow having somewhat stopped. Even in the winter sun, dark brown eyes look golden. "I'm not gonna put bugs in your bed, babe."

You snort, levity brought back into the room at his tone. He has a special talent for that. You squeeze his hipbone. "Thanks, Luffy."

He smiles, nodding once.

"Let's go cuddle!" He says, pulling you back onto the daybed. "We can pick up from where we left off," he says with a smirk, and you gasp. He pulls your weight down on top of his lap, lying on his back while you straddle his thighs. The wet scratch of the towel digs into your skin, the knot at his pelvis bulging against your lap.

"Take this off?" You suggest, pulling at the edge of the towel. Dark hair disappears in a soft trail beneath it, and you wanna touch.

"Sure," he says, letting you lean back so he can unwrap the towel from around himself. He lets it drape over the side of the bed, halfway onto the floor. You resume your place, greedily taking in the sight of his hard cock. It's thick, lightly sticky with precum at the cherry-red tip. His skin is slightly bronzed, darker around his dick and balls, too. You lean forward, scooting your ass back so you can kiss and lick around the base of his shaft. Luffy swears under his breath.

"Shit, kitten," he rasps, "You're so good at that."

You hum, happily licking a stripe up the underside of his lengthy shaft. Luffy groans, bucking his hips. You place a hand on his abs, trying to hold him down. You press into his soft abdomen, feeling the muscles clench firm and hard under your touch.

"Like that?" You ask slyly, raising an eyebrow as you tongue at his tip. His face is flushed, eyes dark and hazy. He brings his shiny bottom lip between his teeth, shuddering out an exhale.

"So much."

"Hm," you skip your fingers across his hips, tracing the prominent arch of his hipbones. "Good."

You take him fully into your mouth, sucking harshly as he gasps. You hollow your cheeks, lapping at his vein with a swift tongue.

Luffy starts thrusting into your mouth, forcing you to take him deeper into the back of your throat. You're not the best at deep throating (gag reflex too strong for that shit), but do your best to take him as far back as you can comfortably go.

Luffy rambles, his voice high-pitched and raspy as he babbles, "Y/n, fuck, that's so good baby--mmph--yes, please, keep sucking me like that--," Until he's shuddering in your mouth, spilling his cum already.

You sit up, triumphant.

"S'good?" You ask, wiping your chin with a forearm. He stares at you, hungrily, before leaping up to capture your mouth with his. He sticks his tongue down your throat, lapping up any trace of himself.

"Perfect," he whines, "Lemme do you?"

You nod, switching spots. He steps onto the floor, straightening the blanket out under you so you can lie down. He fluffs the pillows behind your head, sweetly smiling down at you. The fake string lights you put up with Nami sparkle overhead, giving him a faint, twinkly halo. You spread your legs.

Luffy kneels down between them, hooking your knees over his shoulders as he lies down on his stomach. His breath tickles the bare skin of your inner thigh. He presses a wet kiss to your clothed cunt, lapping at you through the thin fabric of your shorts.

"Smells so good," he groans, closing his eyes as he breathes you in. His hips grind into the daybed, and your pussy clenches at the sight. Rockets flare down your spine, shooting you through with sparks of ecstasy. And you haven't even cum yet.

"S'okay?" He asks, dipping two fingers into the side of your shorts to pull them aside, along with your panties. You nod, salivating with need. His eyes are shiny with lust, and he grins before licking softly through your folds. Your eyes flutter shut, as your head falls back against the pillows. "Atta girl," Luffy says, teething at the outer lips of your cunt, "Relax f'me."

He sucks on your clit, soft lips closing around your sensitive circle of nerves. His tongue works swiftly, sliding up and down from the base of your entrance all the way back up to swipe over your clit. He traces figure-eight motions around your rosebud, preening into you with heated praises of how good you're taking it, yeah just like that babygirl, don't stop, keep saying my name, sweetheart, yeah--

"Faster--," you moan, arching your hips into his jaw. Your fingers thread through his hair, showing him where to move. "...and a little to the left," you say, guiding his tongue there. He hums, lapping now in earnest at your clit. The two fingers that had been holding your clothes out of the way start sliding into your entrance. Birds chirp from outside your third-story window. A car honks as it passes by.

"Mmph--," Luffy moans, face shoved halfway up your cunt. You hiss, back bowing forward as he starts fucking you with his fingers. He rubs them swiftly at your g-spot (with deadly accuracy, no less) as he moans and gasps and sucks on your clit. He's messy and unorganized, but he's so skilled, nonetheless. A lover with hyperfixation issues and an obsession with food is something you can get used to, you think.

Luffy presses the flat of his tongue against your clit, sliding it back and forth softly. His head slowly shakes side-to-side with the movement. You groan, tightening your fingers in his hair. Water droplets slide through your knuckles, falling down onto the tips of Luffy's ears. Your thighs clench around him, whole body starting to shake. "Luffy--," you warn, sparks building into an explosion within you. Gunpowder alights in your belly.

"Cum f'me," he says, breath ragged in between solid licks of your clit and pistoning his fingers in and out of your sticky cunt.

Bang.

It's a sweet death, cumming on Luffy's tongue. He moans appreciatively, grinding his hips into the mattress as he rides you through your orgasm. Your body shakes, sweating and shimmering with the recoil. Luffy is petting your pussy, slowly helping you come down as the smoke clears.

You whimper.

Luffy slides his fingers out of you, popping them into his mouth with a satisfied slurp. "Feel good, baby?"

"Mhmm," you nod, slowly coming back to yourself. Your spine is still tingling, and the arches of your feet are seared with heat.

"Kiss me," he says, leaning forward to place his lips along yours. They slide together gracefully, his tongue poking into your mouth so you can taste yourself on him. He bites at your upper lip, pulling softly. "Did such a good job for me," he croons, rubbing his thumb along your cheek. You nuzzle into his hand, slowly blinking your eyes back open.

"So did you," you whisper, smiling sweetly. He giggles, all shishishi, as he leans down to kiss your lips. He tastes like hot chocolate and marshmallows. His biceps trap you in on either side of your face, as he starts to thrust gently against your cunt. His dick slides against your thigh, tip poking at your entrance every so often. He lets his head fall down into your shoulder, shuddering a breath. He kisses a line along your collarbone.

"Can I?"

"Mhmm," you nod again, already shivering in anticipation. Luffy adjusts himself with little thrusts, angling his hips until his thick head is pushing aside the walls of your entrance. You groan.

"Luffy," you huff, voice shaky, "You feel so good."

Luffy presses his lips against the side of your neck, mouthing sloppily at your pulse point. He sinks himself deeper into your cunt, going slowly until he's buried to the hilt. He shifts, subtle movements from side to side that have you seeing stars.

You grip the back of Luffy's hair, both arms wrapped around his neck. "Faster," you whisper, tugging at the silken locks. Your legs are wrapped around his broad torso, ankles hooked together.

Luffy grins, lips stretching against your neck, as he starts thrusting hard and fast into your cunt. He hits all your sweetest spots, messily kissing your neck, your face, your jawline. He whimpers so prettily against your skin, it has you near-feral with need.

"Harder, Luffy," you tell him, gripping his hair tighter. He lifts his head up to kiss your lips, moaning into you as he speeds up.

"Love when you tell me how ta fuck ya," he sighs against your mouth, tongue slipping out to glide against your lower lip. His cock is deep inside you now, fucking hard and fast and just right.

You buck your hips up to meet him as best you can, sloppily matching his athletic pace with little gasps of pleasure. He growls into your ear, pulling at the shell of it with his teeth.

"Switch," you tell him, "Wanna ride ya."

He giggles, flipping you over with ease. His arms flex as he does, and you gasp with need. He arches an eyebrow, tracking your hungry movements as you grope his biceps, his shoulders, his rock-hard forearms. He flexes for you, sweat shining on his brow.

"Like that, sweetheart?" He teases you, traces his fingertips around your nipples. He flicks them, slightly, as you sink yourself back down on his cock. He hisses, eyes closed.

"Love it," you answer, arching your back so you can start fucking his cock at the exact angle that you need. It's not long before you're cumming, rutting into him with little "ah-ah's!" of pleasure. Luffy strokes your hipbones, urging you on.

"Keep goin', baby," he tells you, command dripping from every slurred syllable, "Cum f'me again." He grips the flesh of your hips, dragging you back and forth on his cock as he starts to fuck up into you again.

He plants his feet on the mattress, lifting his hips so he can jackhammer up into your needy pussy as fast as he wants to. His stamina is no match for yours, especially as you're catching your breath after your second orgasm. You fold forward, moaning all high-pitched and whiny as you let him wrap his arms around you.

"'M close," he whispers, breath hot on the nape of your neck, "Cum with me, angel?"

The pet name is so sweet, so romantic, that it catches you off guard. You swivel your hips into his, clenching your pussy walls around the thick length of his member. All you smell is him, hot chocolate and charcoal, as he pounds up into you from below.

"Sweet girl," he snarls, face hot and flushed with need, "Clench that pussy for me," he slaps your ass, and you gasp. Your pussy flutters around his cock, and he grins. "Good girl, baby."

He pants, thrusting up into you at the same breakneck pace, before he's spasming inside you and you feel his hot cum burst sticky against your velvet walls. You whine, letting him fuck his own spend deeper inside your aching pussy. A fluttering, shy orgasm lifts its wings against your spine. He gifts you with a few more stuttering thrusts, and you gasp. Luffy, Luffy, Luffy--

Sweet as sugar.

Luffy hums, happily relaxing back into the mattress. His fingertips trail little spirals along your ass. You wiggle, and he grins.

"Didja like that?" He peeks down at you with one eye open. His scar is hidden under a scarlet blush. You reach up to touch it with your thumb. You press, gently.

"Loved it."

Luffy sighs, letting his head fall back. You slowly lift yourself off him, letting his slick cock fall out against his strong thigh. You groan, spasms still coursing through your cunt as you stand up. His cum leaks down the side of your leg. Clean up time.

You softly pad back into the (now spiderless) bathroom to wash up.

****

Luffy is waiting for you when you get back, one arm thrown haphazard above his head. His shorts are back on, and when he looks up at you, your hair disheveled and mascara smudged, his dark eyes light up like firecrackers. "Shishishi," he giggles when he sees you, "You're so freakin' cute."

You squeeze your eyes shut, a wave of affection so profound and unbearable that all you can do is grit your teeth against it. He sits up.

"You okay?"

"Sorry--," you gasp, pressing your hands against your chest, "It's just--really sweet when you say stuff like that."

He grins.

You wave it off, coming back over to throw on your comfy clothes again. He skootches over to give you room to sit. He wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you in. You both lean back against the daybed's headboard, legs folded around each other as the two of you relax. Your body is squishy and sore, and his is probably somewhere near the same. You reach over to squeeze his knee.

"Sex with you is really sweet," you say, quietly. Luffy grins, nose crinkling in delight. He scratches the back of his head.

"Shishishi, 'm glad you liked it, y/n!"

You smile, leaning your head against his shoulder. "Let's order pizza," you say, tracing circles on his knee. There's a splotchy purple bruise on the side of it: one of many you're sure he has from training.

"Kitty, I love you," he says, slumping his whole weight into you. He nuzzles into your cheek, even as you gasp and try to push him off you. His strong arms wrap around you, pulling you over onto his lap.

"My treat," he says, mouth at your ear, "Whatever you want."

[mamawasatesttube]

"Your hands are freezing." or "I brought you something." ?

The lights in Tim's apartment are on.

Given that Tim himself is standing on a rooftop across the way, and he's pretty sure he turned everything off before he left for patrol, that's a little odd. Normally, he'd suspect it's just Cass inviting herself over for a post-patrol sabbatical in his shower, but it can't be her because she didn't patrol tonight; she and Dick took tonight off to go across the bay to see the Metropolis ballet do the Firebird or whatever it's called.

It's three in the morning. Tim glares at the innocent, brightly-outlined curtains. Who's in his apartment? He's cold and tired, and he wants to go to bed.

Ugh.

There's nothing for it, though, and none of his alarms have been tripped, so it's probably fine. (Unless it's like, a capital-S Situation instead, but he would really rather it not be. He's sleepy, and it's bitterly cold out here.) So he huffs again, then fires his grapple line.

The scent of fresh-baked cookies greets him the moment he slips inside, and he balks beside the window, blinking. Aw, beans, now he's hungry, too—

"Finally! There you are!" Kon appears in a rush of color, grabbing Tim's shoulders with a bright grin. "I've been waiting for ages. You took forever! I got bored enough to make cookies, and they're getting cold!"

Forget the cookies. Tim tackles him.

Kon sweeps him off his feet and twirls him around, laughing. His arms fold around Tim's waist snugly, and Tim beams as he tucks his face into the warm skin of Kon's neck, exhaustion forgotten. Kon's been off in space with Kara for three weeks, and Tim missed him so much it ached.

"Your nose is cold," Kon complains. Tim pushes his nose further against his neck in response, and Kon huffs. "Hey."

Tim lifts his head to look up at him fondly. Kon bumps their foreheads together, then reaches up with a gentle hand to peel Tim's mask away. Tim wrinkles his nose—Kon's TTK working between his skin and the sealant always makes him want to sneeze.

"Took you long enough to come back," Tim teases, chest full of warmth. He gets to look at Kon without the lenses of his mask now. He's radiant. "Did you get lost or something?"

Kon kisses him lightly. He wants more immediately.

"No, we just accidentally started a revolution on the fourth moon of Tallon, out in the Alpha quadrant?" Kon grins ruefully, rubbing the back of his neck. Tim needs to kiss him again. "In our defense, we didn't mean to, but there was this whole thing with this guy called Kossak who miiiight have a vendetta against me, and... anywhoozies, that's beside the point. See, I brought you something!"

He sets Tim down and hurries across the room to dig through the backpack slung lazily onto Tim's favorite armchair. While he's at it, Tim strips off the outer layers of his costume—the gloves, belts, body armor, overshirt, and outer pants—and leaves them in a heap on the floor for the moment. Now clad in just an undershirt and thermal leggings, he pads over to see what Kon's got.

As he slips his arms around Kon's waist, leaning into his back, Kon hisses. Tim innocently kisses the back of his shoulder and tucks his fingers more securely under Kon's shirt, against bare skin.

"Your hands are freezing," Kon complains. "You ice gremlin."

"Yeah, it's winter and I haven't had my favorite handwarmer for weeks." Tim hooks his chin over Kon's shoulder with a hum. "What'd you get me?"

Kon grins. He twists about in Tim's arms to present him with a glowing box about the size of a Rubik's cube. Its faces are translucent; the light comes from somewhere within. It's not blindingly bright, but Tim's attention is drawn to the socket-looking port in one of the sides.

"It's a power pod for Kossak's spaceship," Kon explains, beaming. "I don't think it's got enough oomph on its own for space travel—Kossak's ship had ten of 'em, but Kara kiiinda exploded the other nine?—but I thought you might have fun building something out of it anyways!"

Oh, that's fucking rad. Tim lights up just like the little box. It's heavier than it looks; he turns it over in his hands appreciatively. He's not sure what exactly its power output looks like, but that'll be fun to play with. He can take it over to the Cave tomorrow; that way, if anything explodes, it's Bruce's problem and not his.

"You're the best." He carefully sets the cube on the coffee table and tucks himself back into Kon's chest. Kon hugs him again, squeezing him tight enough to lift his feet off the ground, and Tim hums. "...I missed you."

"Missed you too, sunshine," Kon says, and presses his lips to Tim's temple. "I'm glad to be back."

"Yeah." Tim smiles, content. "I'm glad, too."