#I don’t usually check blogs but if you go out of your way to be fucking weird I do check your blog

[machveil]

cute little reminder that weird fucking blogs interacting with me will be blocked<3

[shadowfoxsilver]

Some quick tips to spotting accounts that are pretending to be a Palestinian needing mutual aid. Please keep in mind that not all of them are scam accounts, and that some may legitimate blogs who just aren’t too knowledgeable on how tumblr works. This guide is based around what I go by when checking certain blogs and usually it’s a quick giveaway the blog is a scam.

Please read this post too from my other blog before you tell people don’t donate to gfms:

1. You was sent the ask as someone who regularly shares Palestine related content such as regular news updates of posts by other Palestinians who are regularly giving updates. You may also get these asks from sharing a popular post that is from the Palestine tag. If you post often about Palestine, you will always start getting these asks. These askers don’t care if you state don’t send the asks. They will anyway. Unfortunately minors also get sent asks.

2. The ask has odd formatting such as having odd quotation marks in it or unusual formatting that may indicate it’s been edited and copied from somewhere else. Often the ask is the same thing as the post itself minus a link to a donation site. These asks rarely change so searching it should pull up if it’s been sent to other bloggers and sometimes the asks are edited only to add new phrases to them in time.

3. The account is almost always a few days old or a week old or long depending on how often they have sent asks. Usually some may even be an hour old and reusing a familiar pfp/ask.

4. The blog has a few Palestine related posts or posts from random tags reblogged to pad out length and then no more. They will have no original posts besides the pinned post while occasionally answering asks that they may have received but otherwise nothing else and no further updates given either.

5. They may have a Linktree link that is called “GoFundMe” as if indicating they have a GoFundMe there. However, they don’t. When clicked on, the Linktree actually goes to a PayPal account whose name may not even match the one their supposed name is. They’ll say it’s a friend, but it’s just the same person not someone else. You’ll see this same name across multiple accounts after a while usually giving away it’s not legitimate even under a different theme.

6. The text used by the blogs are often real stories stolen from legitimate fundraisers and searching parts of it in your preferred search engine should pull up the sources. These sources make no mention of a tumblr account either or don’t have the PayPal account associated with them in the info. Scammers often impersonate a real person in need and will ignore you if you show them the source they copied from.

7. Legitimate Palestinians often link to their own GoFundMe posts that their friends have set up or post links to other social platforms they are found on. They will regularly post updates when possible, post sources to support them when necessary, and also generally have some method of verifying their legitimacy. They may often share links to support others as well or give links to charities that have been shown as reliable. They will have more original posts than just a single pinned one and regularly speak to other tumblr accounts beyond just an ask. Please don’t bother them with asks about possible scam accounts. There are many guides out there that can do that for you if you search. You may find verified fundraisers too.

8. Scammers don’t know anything about Palestine and will often have trouble once you ask them anything beyond the mutual aid post. They don’t know the languages decently and you can tell it pretty easily if you’re one who uses it regularly. Whatever the scammers use is often just copied off the site they got the post from. Sometimes the text is just reused from past scams such as asking for insulin that doesn’t last long.

9. These scammers can and will use names stolen off real Palestinians to look more legitimate and trustworthy. They change names constantly once one of their PayPal accounts is shut down.

10. If you do see a GoFundMe link on a blog, don’t immediately assume it’s a scam just because it’s a relatively new account. Check the post notes to see if anyone’s verified the account yet or wait a bit as it takes time. You likely can search around to see if anyone’s posted anything where the blog has been vetted by others. You may also see if the GoFundMe is referred to on other socials or on lists that compile verified and vetted fundraisers.

Please don’t let these scams deter you from sending support where it needs to go. Even if you can’t donate personally, there are other ways to help. If you are sending money, please make sure that it’s going to where it’s needed and the place it’s sent has been verified accordingly. If you find a blog is a scammer, and have been able to prove it, please make sure to alert anyone sharing the post and report the account.

[hanjisungs-bigtittyg0thgf]

Aphrodisiac

rival!seonghwa x fem!reader

Trigger warnings: mentions of anxiety

Content warnings: oral (f receiving), names (baby, sweetheart, pretty), choking, spitting, a little bit of hair pulling, seonghwa is actually obsessed with you

Summary: your colleague-turned-enemy pulls a prank on you.

Word count: 6.8k

A/N: so i actually got this request like a year ago buttttt life happened and i'm just now publishing it. anyways i hope you all enjoy it and will continue to support this blog by reblogging my work and commenting your thoughts! much love, angels. <3

Tags: @bahng-chrizz

Smut below the cut

“I’m sorry, what?” You both said at the same time, eyes wide.

“Yes, unfortunately we only have one room left. We can prepare a walk letter for one of you to take to another hotel just a few minutes away and we will pay for your stay, but unfortunately we are fully booked.” The front desk clerk offered an apologetic smile.

“Okay…um…give us just a moment.” Seonghwa pulled you back from the desk as soon as you spoke, his expression dark.

“I’m not leaving, y/n, I’m fucking exhausted.”

“I wasn’t going to suggest you do. I’m more than happy to turn around and go back home.” You sighed, swiping your hand across your forehead. “Listen, if you’re staying here then I need the car. I don’t give a fuck how we do this, I just want to lay down.” Your lack of snark was concerning to him, given your usual form of communication was bickering.

He was silent for a few seconds before letting out a sigh. “Look, why don’t we both stay? You can cancel your reservation and save yourself the hassle of going somewhere else. I’ll get a rollaway bed and you can have the huge bed.”

Your cheeks flamed at the idea and you weren’t sure if it was due to indignance or something else. Even so, you caved quickly. “Are you sure?”

“We used to be friends, we can manage three nights together.” He rolled his eyes. The words ‘used to be’ hurt for some reason.

“Okay. But any funny business and I’ll hurt you.” You gave a warning glare before stepping back up to the desk. “You can cancel my reservation and give him the room.” You said before excusing yourself, making room for him at the desk.

That was how you’d landed yourself in your current predicament. “I’m a fucking idiot for letting you talk me into this.”

“You’re an idiot for less but okay.” He shrugged as he dropped his bag on the bed. “It’s not my fucking fault they ran out of rollaway beds. It’s also not my fault you’d rather eat rusty nails after having your wisdom teeth removed than share a bed with me.”

“Actually that last part is entirely your fault.” You snorted humorlessly as you rifled through your bag for your pajamas. A cold knot of anxiety settled in your stomach once more when you couldn’t find them. “Oh are you fucking kidding me?” You mumbled to yourself as you checked your bag again. Nothing. “Way to fucking go, y/n.” You sighed and held out your hand. “I need the keys.”

“For what?” Seonghwa asked even as he reached into his pocket.

“I can’t find my fucking pajamas.” You sighed again and he watched with concern as you raked a hand through your hair. “I’m pretty sure I left them on my bed when I was packing.”

Instead of the keys, a shirt landed in your hand. “I’ve got some basketball shorts too. They’ve got a drawstring so they’ll fit.”

“You’re being awfully nice.” You said cautiously. “What’s the catch?”

“No catch. I’m just not prepared to comfort you if you start crying - by the way, you look like you’re about to.” His usual sass was tinged with something else but you were sure it wasn’t concern.

“I am not.” You huffed before squashing your irritation as he handed you the shorts. “Thank you.” You mumbled begrudgingly as you made your way to the bathroom to get ready for bed.

Left alone, he heaved out a sigh. What was he doing? He never really hated you, he was just upset over being passed on for the promotion and was mad that you were offered the position when you didn’t apply for it. He was more mad that you didn’t take the offer. He could’ve gotten over his jealousy had you not turned down the position but it felt like a slap in the face that you wouldn’t take something that was being offered to you when he would’ve pounced on the opportunity.

Now he was faced with the uncomfortable reality that he still had feelings for you and would be in extremely close proximity to you for three nights but you couldn’t stand him. Had things not soured between the two of you, he likely would’ve made a move during a trip like this. Now he was left with his feelings and no hope of having anything more than a series of arguments with you.

His heart stumbled to a halt for a brief moment before kicking into overdrive when you came out of the bathroom, hair wet from a quick shower, his clothes dwarfing your frame. Part of him was dying to get his hands on you, to kiss and claim every inch of you. You looked absolutely delectable wearing his clothes and his possessive streak was about to rear its head.

Instead, he cleared his throat and turned away. “It’s about time. Do you always take forever to get dressed after a shower?”

“Well now I'm tempted to take even longer next time. Don’t play with me.” You gave a fake smile as you circled the bed to where your bag still was. You lifted it off the bed and placed it on the floor by the nightstand then turned the sheets back and grabbed the can of disinfectant spray from a shopping bag. The two of you had already stopped by the store and you’d grabbed a small can.

“Is this really necessary?” He frowned in annoyance even as he humored you and followed suit, moving his things and turning his side of the sheets back.

“Yes it’s necessary. Do you know how many people touch these sheets even after they’ve been washed? Or how dirty those laundry rooms actually are? And don’t even get me started on the duvets.” You cringed as you began to spray the bed down, lifting the pillows on your side before circling the bed and working on his side.

“And we’re about to make it dirty by sleeping here. What is your point?” He rolled his eyes and grabbed his clothes from where he’d placed them on the opposite night stand. “Whatever. Have your fun. I’m going to shower.” And with that, he left you alone.

Once you were satisfied, you placed the can back in the bag and crawled into bed, cutting the light on your side off. You drifted off before he was even out of the shower.

When he returned, still toweling his hair, you were fast asleep. He was quick to turn the other light off to keep from disturbing you, even though he wasn’t ready to bed down just yet. He stood over you and watched for a moment, taking in the planes of your face. You looked so worried, so fatigued. What had changed for you in the time that your friendship had fallen apart? He didn’t think too hard about it and got in bed as well.

————————————————

Your presentation had been a failure and you were currently nursing your wounds at the hotel bar, trying to avoid Seonghwa. You knew he’d mock you and you couldn’t handle that at the moment.

You let out a deep sigh when he found you, turning further away from him when he sat beside you. “Please don’t.”

“Don’t what? Remind you of how badly you fucked that up?” He paused before feigning apology. “Oops. Too late.”

“Seonghwa please just stop.” You felt a lump forming in your throat and reached into your purse for your wallet.

“Why? You’re the one who screwed up, not me. You can’t seriously expect me to feel bad for you.” He did but he couldn’t stop digging the hole deeper.

“Seriously. Stop.” You forced out, rifling through your wallet as pressure built behind your eyes.

“Listen, I'm sorry you’re not good at public speaking or whatever, but that’s not my problem. It’s not my job to be your bestie.”

“Yeah, fucking obviously.” You finally spat as you tossed down a twenty and stood. “Just leave me the fuck alone, Seonghwa.” Your face was red and your vision was starting to blur with tears so you hurried off towards the elevator, not wanting to let him see you cry.

It wasn’t your fault you bombed the presentation. Your anxiety had choked out every word you’d tried to say so you’d fumbled through each slide and he’d stepped up, covering the information in a more coherent manner. If he’d been anyone else, you would’ve found comfort in the support, but he wasn’t someone who did things because he cared.

You stepped into the elevator and pressed the button for your floor before repeatedly smashing the ‘door close’ button but it was too late. He’d managed to get an arm in the door before it shut and stepped inside, an unnerving amount of concern etched on his face. Why was he concerned? He loved seeing you pissed off.

“Y/n…” He reached a hand out but you jerked your arm away as the doors slid shut.

“Don’t fucking touch me, Seonghwa.” Your voice cracked and you turned away so he couldn’t see the tears starting to fall.

“Y/n, stop.” He grabbed your arm more forcefully this time and spun you around. You looked down so he couldn’t see you properly and he just sighed as he pulled you into his chest. “I’m sorry.”

Those two words broke something in you and your shoulders shook with a silent sob. He rubbed circles on your back as you cried into his chest, his familiar scent slowly seeping into your bones and calming you as you finally reached the tenth floor after several minutes. Why the fuck was the elevator so slow anyways?

As soon as the door opened, you untangled yourself from him and headed off towards your room without a word. You weren’t sure what to say.

The second the door was shut, he reached for you again. “Y/n, we need to talk.”

“We’ve needed to talk for two years. Why now?” You were tired of trying to figure out what he wanted. Tired of the fighting that only seemed to encourage his irritating ways.

“Because I'm tired of hurting you.” He sighed, gently squeezing your bare shoulders. His warm hands on your skin offered a measure of comfort you hadn’t realized you needed.

“Why? You hate me.”

“I never hated you. I was angry at you.” He corrected, urging you towards the desk chair and forcing you to sit before he propped on the desk. “I didn’t understand how you could pass up such an amazing opportunity and I was angry that you didn’t want it as much as I did. It pissed me off that you could want to miss out.”

“Seonghwa, I never wanted that position. I’m comfortable where I'm at.” You sighed and crossed your legs. “Have you ever considered why I didn't take it?”

“I just said that.”

You ignored his snarky tone and carried on. “Not only did I not want the job, I knew that you did. It was partially out of self-preservation and partially out of respect for you.”

“If you’d respected me as much as you say, you would’ve taken the job and not seemed so ungrateful.” He deadpanned and you felt more tears, this time from frustration.

“I just told you I didn’t want it!” You exclaimed, uncrossing your legs and leaning forwards. “You saw what happened today. That would’ve been every day if I’d taken the promotion. It’s embarrassing and anxiety-inducing, something I frankly don’t need more of. I’m not mentally strong enough for that humiliation. I didn’t want to take it because I knew I’d fail.” You said bitterly as you stood and kicked off your heels. “And for the record, I told them you were a better fit. So if you want someone to be mad at, be mad at them. Not me. I tried to get you the job.” You spat and then you stormed into the bathroom, leaving him sitting in silence.

It took you fifteen minutes to get ready for bed and when you emerged from the bathroom, he was sitting on the foot of the bed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think to consider the full reasoning behind you turning down the promotion. I was just so angry that you were chosen and still refused.”

“You’ve always been more ambitious than me. You’re more comfortable in your own skin than I am. More confident.” You shrugged and sat on your side of the bed.

“Which is sad, quite honestly.” He smiled humorlessly. “Listen, I know this is my fault. Can we agree to stop the feud?”

“That depends on you. I don’t instigate, I react. So we can only stop this if you stop trying to get under my skin.” You shrugged and laid down, pulling the sheets up to your chin when he stood. “Now go take a shower.” You hummed and flicked off your lamp.

It didn’t take long for you to fall asleep once he left the room but the next morning, you awoke to a strong arm wrapped around your waist. You realized your head was laying on his other arm so you tried to move away but he pulled you in closer. “Seonghwa.” A sleepy grunt was his only acknowledgement. “Why are you cuddling with me?”

“You’re warm.” He hummed, his voice deep with sleep. Holy hell… “Must’ve moved in my sleep.” He hadn’t. He’d been holding you the whole time.

“Okay but you’re awake now. So why are you still holding me?” Your cheeks were rapidly heating at the realization that he was shirtless this time. He made an unconcerned ‘I dunno’ noise and shrugged but made no move to release you. You tried to wriggle away again and his grip tightened.

“Well now I can’t let you go.” His voice was laced with amusement. “Solely because you want me to.”

“Unhand me!” You cried, a smile already on your face as you struggled to get away again. He laughed and pulled you further against him. “Come on, I thought we were gonna act like adults.”

“I never agreed to that. I just said I’d stop being mean.” He pointed out as his fingers dug into your side, earning a soft squeal as you jolted. “And in the spirit of being nice, I won’t exploit your ticklishness right now.”

“You’re such an asshole sometimes.” You rolled your eyes, still smiling even as he finally released you.

“Go get dressed. I’ll make us some coffee.” He hummed. You did as he said, padding to the bathroom after grabbing your clothes. As soon as you were gone, he shot out of bed with a grin, ignoring how perfect you looked in his clothes. Just because he was being nice didn’t mean he couldn’t still prank you.

He brewed the coffee and mixed in the creamer and sugar like you liked - he’d observed you making your coffee many times and knew how you liked it - then dropped in the chocolate. He knew how much you loved chocolate so you’d be thrilled to have it in your coffee. It was like a milkshake with how much creamer was in it.

When you came out a few minutes later, he handed you the cup. “I added something for you.” He hummed, waiting for you to sip the drink, which you did cautiously. Your face lit up at the sweet flavor and you thanked him, not catching the mischief in his smile as you drank in comfortable silence.

“You know, part of me isn’t sure I should trust you just yet.” You admitted a few minutes after finishing your coffee.

“I know. I’m sorry. I’ll do my best to change that, okay?” You nodded and bit your lip as you settled against the headboard. “We’ve got the whole morning free. What do you want to do?”

“Honestly, I kind of want to go back to sleep.” You chuckled as he gathered his clothes to get ready for the day.

“I mean, you could.” He shrugged as he padded to the bathroom. “I’ll be right back.”

In the short amount of time it took him to get ready for the day, you noticed something was off. You were warm and your breathing was picking up. You felt flustered at the memory of his shirtless form, sweats slung low on his hips, and your thighs squeezed together involuntarily. Why were you so turned on?

Your mouth went dry for a brief moment when he came back before watering as you took him in. He was in all black, his button down hugging his chest just right and his thighs looking powerful in his tight pants, and you wanted to pounce on him. What the fuck?

“You good?” He drawled, lifting a perfectly-groomed eyebrow.

“Yeah, why?” You responded immediately. That was far too quick for your liking.

“Because you look like a tomato and you’re eyeing me like a piece of meat.” He paused and made a show of moving closer. “Wait a minute…” He leaned down and examined you for a moment before grinning, faking shock. “Are you…turned on?”

“No!” You practically shrieked.

“You must’ve really liked that coffee.” He snorted as he righted himself.

Everything clicked at his words and your jaw dropped slightly. “What did you do?”

“Oh you know.” He shrugged as he went to his bag and reached inside. “Gave you a treat.” He grinned as he held up the pack of aphrodisiac chocolates.

“You motherfucker-” You chucked a pillow at him, indignation filling your words.

“Should I have one as well? Maybe we can fuck away the animosity.” He wiggled his eyebrows as he opened the box and pulled out the foil packet. When you hesitated to turn him down, his grin grew. “You want that? Want to fuck away all the bad feelings that ever existed between us?”

Your breath hitched as he broke off a piece of chocolate and lifted it to his lips. Finally, you nodded sheepishly. He quickly popped the candy in his mouth and let out a theatrical groan, both for your reaction and because it tasted amazing.

Your cheeks grew hotter at the sound and you averted your gaze, earning a laugh from him. “You’re too cute, y/n. You never struck me as the shy type.” He stalked towards the bed, lifting one knee onto the mattress as soon as he reached. “You wanna know what I think?” When you didn’t respond, he continued anyway. “I think that the second I get you naked, you’ll be a completely different person. You seem like a screamer. I bet you like it kinda wild.”

You hated how your body reacted to his drawl and you especially hated how quickly he figured you out but didn’t say anything to correct him. Instead, you simply accepted his advances when he moved closer and tipped your head back against the headboard. “Now’s your chance to back out.” He warned, his lips a hair’s width away.

Instead of verbally responding, you closed the tiny gap between the two of you. You felt a jolt of electricity when your lips touched. Immediately, something in him changed. He quickly lost his cool and began to devour your lips, his tongue delving into your mouth the moment your lips parted. You could taste the chocolate on his tongue and your pulse ratcheted up.

Your pussy throbbed when he let out a soft groan and you couldn’t stop your hands from moving to his chest. You deftly unbuttoned his shirt as his hands untucked your blouse and began to lift it. The instant you pulled back, your top was tossed aside and he urged you to stand. You didn’t want to move just yet, enjoying the feel of his lips on yours, but you complied quickly and a moment later he was knelt in front of you.

He pressed his forehead to your stomach as he took a steadying breath, then reached behind you to unzip your skirt. “This fucking thing has been taunting me for ages.” He growled as the material slid down your legs, revealing your already-soaked panties.

He pressed a kiss above your belly button, followed by one right below it, then another right above your panties. “How long?” Your voice sounded strange to you, never having been so rough in your life.

“Doesn’t matter. What matters right now is that I get a taste of your pretty pussy.” His gaze was heavy as his fingertips skimmed along your thighs, making your thoughts fuzzy. “May I?” He asked, fingers finally tracing along the edges of your panties.

You nodded quickly and he didn’t bother moving the material before pressing his tongue to you. The motion was meant to tease, as he quickly replaced his tongue with his nose and took a deep breath, groaning at the scent of your arousal.

Long fingers pushed your panties to the side a moment later, revealing your glistening folds to him. “Shit…” He hissed, his eyelids growing heavy as he zeroed in on your slick. Then his tongue was back on you, lapping at your mess. He locked eyes with you and his hands went to your ass, kneading the soft flesh there as his tongue worked you.

Seonghwa ate pussy like he’d been in the desert for days and your body was the first drop of water he’d stumbled across. Like a man starved. He was beyond enthusiastic and you were certain he’d wring you dry of orgasms before noon.

He sucked on your clit while pulling you impossibly closer and your jaw dropped, eyes fighting to stay open. “S-Seonghwa-” Your voice was a breathy moan as your hands tangled in his hair and he growled against you in appreciation, making sure you felt the vibrations.

You tugged at his hair in response and he gave a harsh suck, making your knees weak. You let out a soft curse and felt him smirk against you but couldn’t be bothered to be annoyed with his cockiness. He was too damn good at what he was doing for you to think about anything else.

Your head tipped back after a few minutes, soft moans flowing freely from your lips. You were doing well at keeping quiet so as not to disturb other guests but he’d change that. He was determined to make you scream and cry for him.

A soft nip to your clit had your spine straightening and your eyes flying open. “Oh fuck me-” You gasped at the pain that quickly gave way to pleasure as he soothed the sensitive bud with his tongue.

“Later, baby.” He teased before diving back in with renewed vigor, his tongue working faster as he felt you tensing under his touch. You shot him a glare but bit your lip hard when he laughed against you.

“Shit-” You whimpered, your grip on his hair tightening. He groaned at the sensation and you made another small sound. He knew good and damn well what he was doing to you and you didn’t want it to end, even as the knot in your belly began to unravel. “Oh- ‘m gonna cum-” You warned and he sucked on your clit once more, harder this time.

Your toes curled with the intensity of your orgasm. Your chest heaved and your head fell back as you let out a string of subdued moans and soft curses. Even as you came down from your high, he continued to lap at you and you felt a burning sensation under your skin. You could handle several orgasms but you needed a few minutes between each one.

“Hwa wait-” You whimpered. “Hold on.” You gently pushed him back and he reluctantly pulled away.

“The second I get you undressed and on that bed, my head is going back between your legs.” He warned as he stood, pulling you against him. His stiff cock strained against the confines of his pants, pressing against your belly, and you couldn’t help but reach out and palm him as he tipped your head back for a kiss.

You moaned softly at the taste of yourself on his tongue as he plundered your mouth, noticing the way his cock twitched at the sound. He wasted no time in unclasping your bra and tossing it aside, lightly pinching your nipple a moment later. You squeezed him through his pants in return and he nipped at your lip as he pulled you impossibly closer.

Impatient, you broke the kiss and began to sink to your knees but he stopped you. “Another time, baby. Let me take care of you this time, yeah?”

“But…”

He leaned in so his lips were right by your ear before whispering. “After all our meetings are done for the day, you can do whatever you want. We can come back here and you can have me however you’d like. How’s that sound, baby?”

You clenched around nothing, both at his words and the sound of his voice, rough with desire. “Anything I want?” He nodded. “You don’t know what you’ve just signed up for.” You grinned mischievously as he righted himself and pulled you against him.

“I’m more than happy to be your toy, sweetheart.” He hummed as he hooked his thumbs in the waistband of your panties. “Now let’s get these off so I can keep playing with you.”

He slid the material down your legs and you stepped out of the flimsy cotton only to be pushed backwards onto the bed. He crawled over you with a wolfish grin, one hand caressing your side. “You gonna let me go down on you again, pretty?”

“Please-” You nodded, your voice coming out as a breathy moan.

“Good girl.” He cooed, already moving down the mattress. He knelt beside the bed and hooked your legs over his shoulders, eyes locked on your dripping pussy. “God- you’re so fucking pretty, baby.”

You don’t bother trying to stop his praises, too focused on the way his lips seal around your clit once more. You never would’ve had a chance to respond even if you wanted to.

Instantly, the burn under your skin returned but in a more delicious way. Your hands tangled in his hair, guiding him this way and that. You knew you wouldn’t last long since you’d already had one orgasm so you decided to fully enjoy it and tell him exactly what to do.

Of course, he had other plans. He wanted to appreciate you in ways he’d only been able to dream of before. He wanted to take his time and drown in you. You tasted like Heaven, like he’d always imagined, and he couldn’t get enough.

After several moments of sucking and licking, he decided to try something else. Something he hadn’t been able to do while you were standing. His tongue pressed inside you and you immediately pressed against his touch, his nose bumping your clit at the same time. “Oh- Seonghwa, please-” You gasped out, pulling his hair hard.

He groaned against you at the sting and retracted his tongue only to plunge into you once more. In and out, in and out. He carried on like that for close to a minute before he retreated, tongue flicking over your clit once more. At your whine of dismay, he slid two fingers into you and curled them instantly, finding your g-spot in record time. It was as if he had studied your body for years and knew every inch of you. He’d wanted you for so long that he’d dreamt of doing so.

His impossibly-tight pants were constricting. They were getting on his damn nerves. But he wanted you to be the one to undress him so he didn’t dare try to shimmy them off. Not when he was finally able to bury his face between your legs.

You let out a loud whimper as he scissored his fingers and lapped at your cunt, your back arching off the bed. “Fuck- ‘m close, Hwa-” You warned, thighs beginning to tremble. He was too fucking good and you were too high strung to hold back.

As you clenched around his fingers, coming undone as soon as the words left your mouth, he let out a long groan against you. You felt him shift under your legs but didn’t bother trying to figure out why as you allowed wave after wave of white hot pleasure to cascade over your body, back still bowed off the bed.

He helped you through it, sucking and nipping at your clit until you were certain you’d gone up in flames. You gently pushed him away, chest heaving, and he stood between your legs. “I’m so giving you the sloppiest blowjob later.” You panted, smiling up at him as he moved over you.

“I’ll look forward to it.” He grinned as he leaned down to catch your lips in a messy kiss. You reached for his pants as you kissed and made a small sound when you found a wet patch across the front.

“Did you-”

“Yeah. You tasted too good and looked too perfect for me to hold back.” He admitted shamelessly as his lips trailed to your neck. He was careful not to leave any marks since you had another round of presentations you needed to look presentable for later in the afternoon.

“There’s no reason that should be so hot.” You murmured, slipping your hand inside his soiled boxers. You didn’t care if it was dirty, you needed to touch him. Lewd sounds quickly filled the room as you stroked his cock, pride swelling in your chest when he bucked into your touch.

“Wait.” He stopped you even as he rocked his hips once more. “I need to be inside you. Are you still on the pill?”

“IUD.” You said as you lifted your messy hand to your mouth and began to lap up his cum.

His jaw dropped as he watched you lick your fingers clean, eyes glazing over with lust. “Fucking hell…” He groaned, pulling back abruptly. He wasted no time in kicking off his pants and underwear, trying to clean himself at least a little before he rejoined you on the bed. “You’re going to be the death of me, y/n.”

“There’s worse ways to go.” You teased, pulling him down for another sloppy kiss. Your legs wrapped around his waist, tugging him closer in invitation. A string of saliva connected your lips when he pulled back, which you quickly leaned up and licked away, earning a soft curse. You leaned up once more to whisper in his ear as he lined up. “Fuck away all the bad feelings, Seonghwa. You promised.” Then you gently clamped your teeth on his earlobe, reveling in the choked noise he made.

“You’re a demon.” He hissed as he pressed in, gasping at how tight you felt. You whimpered at the stretch and tugged him closer, lip catching between your teeth. “So fucking tight for me, baby. So perfect.”

You moaned at his words, clenching involuntarily around him. You loved the praise and he knew as much now. He finally rocked his hips and you let out a soft whine at the friction. “You’re so big…” You moaned as you allowed yourself to fall back against the sheets, hair fanning out around your head in a halo.

Stars danced in his eyes as the sight of you beneath him. This was a religious experience and he was already in the clouds. And you were praising him? He felt like he might die if you continued to comment. Your approval was all he ever needed and to get the validation in bed too was enough to have him on edge. He was fighting hard to stay composed so was trying to distract himself with random thoughts but you were clouding his senses and he couldn’t focus on anything else.

He gave a deep thrust and you let out a reedy moan, guiding his hand to your chest so he’d thumb over your nipples. Instead of simply teasing, he pinched you and your eyes rolled back. “Harder.” You demanded, unsure of what you were referring to. Did you want him to pinch your nipples harder or did you want him to fuck you harder?

He couldn’t tell either but gladly did both, relishing the sound you made. “You like that?”

“So much.” You nodded enthusiastically. “Need more. Please?” You pleaded, gasping when he pinched your nipple again.

“So impatient.” He tutted. “I love it. You’re so desperate for me that you can’t wait. How cute.” He continued, his hand sliding up to your throat. “Don’t worry, I’ll train you to be patient.” His smile darkened as he began to apply pressure to the sides of your throat, cutting off blood flow. His hips slowed and you whimpered but he briefly tightened his grip in warning. “Be a good girl and take what I give you, yeah?” You nodded furiously and he snapped his hips forward, knocking the air from your lungs. “Good girl.”

You weren’t on this planet anymore. You weren’t even in this universe. The whole ordeal was so hot that you were in your own world, focused only on the pleasure and the oddly-comforting weight of his body on top of yours.

“Open.” He demanded suddenly and your jaw instantly fell slack. “So obedient.” He cooed as he leaned closer before pursing his lips. Oh god is he about to do what I think? Fuck. You gripped his wrist as he spit into your mouth, a pathetic noise slipping out. “Swallow.” You did so eagerly, your entire body spasming at how hot it was. His jaw dropped at the way you suddenly clenched around him and he quickly pulled out, cumming across your thighs. “Fucking hell, baby. You like it that much? Fuck.” He panted as he stroked himself through his high, groaning when you nodded and reached to rub tight circles over your clit to guide yourself through your own orgasm.

He looked stunning like that. His jaw hung slack, his eyes half-lidded from the intense pleasure. He looked fucked out. He looked so fucking beautiful. He was art.

“Please.” You whispered breathlessly. “One more. Need to cum one more time. Need you to cum one more time. Please?” You begged, vision whiting when he squeezed your throat again.

“So needy, baby. Want me to fuck you so dumb you drool? Is that it?” His tone was nothing but adoring even though his words were meant to sting a bit and your heart throbbed in your chest. Was this more than fucking away tension and animosity? “Flip over. Lemme see that perfect ass.” He pulled away and you quickly complied, wiggling your ass as soon as you were in position. “God- you’re so fucking perfect, y/n. So perfect.” He praised as he squeezed your soft flesh.

“Seonghwa…” You whimpered his name as you tried to push yourself back onto his cock. “I need you so bad. Please?”

“I can’t say no when you ask so nicely, baby.” He said as he lined up and pressed into you. “Fuck- this pussy was made for me, pretty. Feels so fucking good.” He breathed, setting a rough pace from the start. His hips slapped against your ass as he plowed into you, driving you into the mattress.

You couldn’t help but cry out when he slammed into you so hard he knocked you forward. Your knees would be so irritated from the position and the way the sheets rubbed against your skin but you couldn’t care less. You simply wanted to feel him. He was all you needed at the moment.

He suddenly pulled you up from where your face was buried in the sheets and wrapped his hands around your throat for leverage. “You take my cock so well, sweetheart. Like you were made for it. Were you made for me?”

“Yes!” You gasped, jolting when he brushed your cervix. “Yes, I was made to take your cock and anything you give me.”

Lewd sounds filled the air as he repeatedly slammed into you, your mess running down your thighs to mingle with his. You’d need new sheets brought in by the time you were done. You almost felt bad for the housekeepers who would service your room later this afternoon. Almost. You couldn’t feel too bad with Seonghwa balls-deep inside you.

“You’re gonna make me cum.” He warned suddenly as he released your throat and you bit your lip hard. “Where do you want it, baby? I’m already so close.”

“Everywhere.” Your request was simple and it drove him over the edge. He pulled out as he came, covering your ass and thighs with his release. His breathing grew ragged as he allowed the pleasure to overwhelm him and he let out what was easily the sexiest sound you’d ever heard a man make, his voice pitching low in a way that made you clench around nothing.

Before you could reach between your legs to finish yourself off, he was back inside you and working faster than before, even as he began to get overwhelmed from the pleasure. He could feel you tensing with your impending orgasm and he wanted to be the one to send you over the edge one last time before you had to go shower again. “Don’t you dare touch yourself, baby. I’m gonna make you cum. Understood?”

You nodded quickly, thighs beginning to tremble from the sensation overtaking your body. “Yes! ‘M so close, Hwa. Please make me cum. Please!” You begged and he immediately reached around to toy with your clit. Tears sprung into your eyes at the pleasure flooding your body and fire spread beneath your skin.

“I can feel you trembling, pretty. Why don’t you just let go? Cum all over my cock, baby.” He coached and you couldn’t fight it anymore. A cry ripped from your throat and tears began to roll down your cheeks as your final orgasm crashed into you. “That’s right. Just like that.” His deep voice spurred you on as he tangled a hand in your hair, pulling just hard enough for the most delicious sting to spread out over your scalp. “Good girl.” You let out a choked sob at the name, delirious from the pleasure and gratification.

As you slowly came down from your high, he gently released your hair and smoothed his hands down your back. “You did so well for me, sweetheart. So perfect.” You whimpered softly at the praise as you collapsed against the mattress. He slipped out of you and immediately laid beside you, still rubbing your back with one hand. “You okay?” He asked as soon as he saw your tears. You nodded weakly, utterly spent. “Words, baby.”

“I’m okay. That was just…intense.” You murmured, suddenly exhausted.

“It was.” He agreed quietly, reaching to brush your hair back from your face. After several beats of silence, during which he took his time admiring you and playing with your hair, he spoke again. “You’re beautiful, you know.”

Your cheeks heated up and you fought the urge to hide your face. “Can I ask you something?” He nodded so you continued. “Earlier you said my skirt was driving you crazy. How long? You didn’t answer me before.”

“Too long.” When you didn’t respond, he let out a soft sigh and began to explain. “I always felt like shit for it but I've wanted you since day one. The moment we met, I knew I needed you. And seeing you in that damned skirt week after week drove me absolutely insane.”

“Why would you feel like shit for that?”

“Because we were friends. I shouldn’t have wanted you the way that I did. They always say women can’t have male friends because they all wanna sleep with you and I felt like I was only proving that right and risking our friendship.”

“Well if it’s any consolation, I’ve always found you insanely attractive too and have had my fair share of untoward thoughts.” You grinned and he let out a soft laugh. After a few beats of silence you spoke again. “I have another question.”

“Shoot.”

“Why the fuck did you have those chocolates on this trip in the first place?”

“We should get cleaned up.” He hummed as he sat up, clearly not wanting to answer. He had a secretive smile on his face and you rolled your eyes.

“You’re such a pain.” You sighed in exasperation. “Just tell me.”

“Well I hadn’t anticipated being the one helping you with it but I did plan to inconvenience you a bit.” He laughed and you sat up to chuck another pillow at him.

“You’re such an ass.”

“I’m your ass though.” Your cheeks pinked at the thought and you nodded slowly, liking the idea more than you’d anticipated.

“Yeah. I guess you are.”

[highvern]

Home for the Holidays

Pairing: Jung Wooyoung x fem!reader

Genre: mature, romance, smut, angst, exes to lovers, Christmas!AU, fake dating

Warnings: Drug use (weed), alcohol, mentions of aging family members, unhealthy family dynamics, mentions of illness (reader is a doctor), cursing, dry-humping/grinding, kissing, oral (f. receiving), masturbation, unprotected sex, angst, poor self-esteem/self-doubt, pining, some threats of bodily harm, mentions of pregnancy

Length: ~27k

Note: this is a rewrite of this fic i posted for christmas last year. switched some things, updated my writing style and added some scenes. thank u @haologram for suffering through beta reading this. dedicated to my dearest @miniseokminnies

Summary: Wooyoung broke up with you months ago. In his own shame and embarrassment, he's never told his family. Now they're expecting you for Christmas, just like they have for the past 8 years. So he does the only thing he can think of: beg you to pretend you're still dating.

m.list

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked.

June

“So I have some news. I know it hasn’t been easy for us going back—”

“I think we should break up.”

“...and forth so much but—What?” 

“I don’t think it's working out between us.”

Your mouth falls open, lips attempting to form words that don’t manage to make a sound. Eyes shifting around the room, the sheen of tears thickening as a few beads trail down your cheeks as you stand shakily; managing only a few steps away from the table before a choked sob wiggles free from an iron grip. People are staring as you nearly run out to the door. You don’t care. You’re already outside and turning the block, completely unaware that several whip around to look at the man left at the table.

Wooyoung doesn’t chase you down. Doesn’t call or text as you walk the twenty blocks to Lisa’s apartment in the thick humidity of the city night; snot and tears trailing down your face.

Wooyoung doesn’t say anything at all as eight years shatter to pieces in a matter of seconds.

December

…twenty-six, twenty-seven, twenty-eight.

Wooyoung staples the finished packets together, ears tickled by jazzy Christmas music leaking from his computer speakers in the corner of his L-shaped desk. Surrounded by colorful brick walls of a midtown elementary school isn’t where most people his age would find themselves on a Friday evening but where else would he go?

His roommates have their partners over, he’d rather avoid the frigid dampness of the park he usually smokes at, and Wooyoung isn’t interested in the crowds clogging anywhere else he’d think to visit. The usual comforting bustle of the city only serves to set him on edge, making him desperate for a true solitude he really craves. Getting ahead on his classroom prep for the remainder of the semester seemed like the perfect, albeit a depressing way, to spend the evening. The dulcet tones of Dean Martin are joined by an incoming call buzzing his phone across the wooden top of the desk. A familiar picture of his mom and him as a baby flashing across the screen before he answers.

“Hi sweetie,” his mom yells on the other line. Wooyoung can tell she’s driving home from work based on the poor audio quality.

“Hey mom,” he wedges the device between his shoulder and cheek, using his hands to continue organizing the worksheets for Monday, paper warm in his palms from the printer.

“I’m just calling to make sure you and Y/N are still coming for Christmas. I know the hospital is usually crazy this time of year, so I thought I’d double check.”

“Actually mom—”

“Bibi keeps talking about wanting everyone home for Christmas but if Y/N can’t make it she’ll understand. She’s always been her favorite,” she laughs.

Wooyoung’s grandmother is impolitely frank about her age and never hesitates to use it to her own advantage. How does he tell her that his girlfriend, who she liked more than her own grandsons some days, is no longer his girlfriend? And how he is the only one to be blamed for that. He might as well start digging his own grave.

“We’ll be there,” Wooyoung blabs before he can stop himself.

“Wonderful! I’m pulling into the driveway so I’ll talk to you later. Love you!”

“Love you too.”

Fortunately, on a cold winter night like tonight, the only other soul in the building is Mr. Rollins, a janitor with headphones permanently attached to his ears. The colorful combination of expletives pouring from Wooyoung’s mouth would make a sailor blush.

Typing in a familiar name to his message bar, Wooyoung realizes he hasn’t changed it in all this time; the string of emojis from the first night he got your number glaring back at him in mockery. A sting of bile blisters the back of Wooyoung’s throat as he steads himself for what he’s about to do. Who he is about to ask for the biggest mercy; one he didn’t deserve in the slightest.

Wooyoung: Can I call you?

Wooyoung inhales before hitting “send,” locking his phone and tossing it down like it’s possessed. Barely a full minute passes before it vibrates with your response.

Y/N🥰🍯💖: are you okay?

He can’t even type a reply before the buzz buzz buzz on an incoming call tickles against his palm. 

Tapping into the false chipper personality he reserves for strangers and his class, Wooyoung answers with a simple. “Hey!” 

“Hi,” you deadpan. “What do you want, Wooyoung?”

“How have you been?”

“I’m fine. But you aren’t calling to ask me that.”

Wooyoung wants to object but you’re right. “I’m not but I still care.”

“Sure.”

“Okay, so my mom called and asked if you were coming over for Christmas.”

“Why?” you drawl.

“Because I haven’t told them we broke up.”

A rush of clattering sounds from your end along with a few curse words sounding far away before you continue. “Are you fucking kidding me? It’s been six months!”

“I know! But I’ve been busy and there was never a good time and it’s just kinda snowballed.”

“Well, tell her now,” you insist.

“I can’t!”

“Why not?”

“Bibi keeps talking about how she wants everyone how for one last Christmas and with Kyungmin going to colle—”

He can hear your eye roll. “Please tell me you’re not suggesting what I think you are.”

“You know I wouldn’t ask unless I was desperate.”

“I thought us breaking up meant I didn’t have to deal with your bullshit anymore.”

“I can tell them you’re busy and the hospital is keeping you or—”

“No.” Wooyoung can picture the hand scrubbing down your face, fingers massaging your temples the same way you always did when his shenanigans stirred up trouble. “I’ll do it.”

Now he’s the one to pause. “Really?”

“Yeah, it’d be nice to see them all one last time.”

He can’t believe you answered his call, let alone agreed to this stupid plan. But he completely can because now matter what happens, you’re a better person than he’ll ever deserve. “Thank you. You’re a lifesaver.”

“I actually need to get back to doing that so—”

“Yeah, I’ll, ugh, talk to you later. Bye.” Wooyoung bites his tongue to stop the habitual I love you from slipping in.

“Bye.”

As the line clicks and Wooyoung is left alone in his classroom, the space abruptly feels too big. With each minute ticking by, he convinces himself he hallucinated the entire exchange because there is no possible way his ex-girlfriend agreed to this ill-thought plan. Everything feels too normal for you to extend such undue kindness his way, especially after how he ruined their relationship in a moment of insecurity.

Wooyoung: My flight out is 12/21

Wooyoung: You don’t have to come that early 

Y/N🥰🍯💖: im off starting the 19th

Wooyoung: I’ll pay for your flight

Y/N🥰🍯💖: great. ill venmo you

Wooyoung: Cool, send me the details

There’s a weight on Wooyoung’s tongue at the new dynamic settling between you. Eight years of dating but now you’re a stranger, the last text messages arranging for Lisa to pick up a box of your stuff from his apartment. 

Six months and he didn’t know if you kept your hair the same way or what new book you were obsessing over in the sparse free time from the hospital; if your neighbor in Boston’s yappy geriatric dog finally kicked the bucket.

Lovers. Almost fiancées. And now strangers.

Wooyoung wakes up to the early morning bustle of the busy streets just outside his window. His phone clock reads thirty minutes past his normal alarm which means he’s late. And that means his boss is going to tear his ass a new one. 

In a whirl, Wooyoung rushes to the bathroom. He wets his hands with the freezing tap water, patting his face and attempting to style his bed ridden hair. The door shifts to catch his foot as he exits, stubbing his toe and forcing him to hop down the hallway to his room. Wrinkled khakis and a sweater are all Wooyoung manages before he throws on his parka and is out the door.  He sprints to the subway, just in time to see the doors closing on his train.

“Fuck me!”

“Too young for me buddy,” croaks the homeless man splayed on the bench in the middle of the platform.

Ignoring him, Wooyoug paces further down the station, anger filling him with restless energy. Glancing at his phone, he shoots an email to his principal that he’ll be late due to “train delays.” Thank god for the MTA being a regular piece of shit. Finally checking the stream of missed notifications during the night, he uses the lull to answer them.

Mom: Does y/n still like those chips we bought last time? I’m at the store getting a few things

Wooyoung: She said she’s happy with whatever you get!

Not a lie since you would be happy to have snacks of any kind.

SANNIE⛰️: YOU DIDN’T TELL YOUR PARENTS? 

SANNIE⛰️: U R SO FUCKED

At least he can always count on San to state the obvious.

Y/N🥰🍯💖: here’s my ticket 

Wooyoung does a double take when he sees you’re flying out of New York, not Boston. Why aren’t you flying out of Boston? There’s no way it’s cheaper than flying out of Boston and you wouldn’t go through the trouble of getting down here unless there was a good reason.

Wooyoung: Why are you flying out of LGA?

Y/N🥰🍯💖: Because I live here?

A lump of lead hardens in his stomach. You live here, in New York. You’d been in the city and he didn’t even notice. Questions race forward. How long? Where were you working? What neighborhood did you live in? Why didn’t he know you moved back?

The last question is more his own fault than he cares to admit.

Wooyoung: since when?

He doesn’t expect a response right away. It wasn’t the first time his messages went hours before being answered. You’re a doctor, and before that a med student, and before that pre-med when he met you at some dive bar and realized you shared a behavioral psych class. You always maintained a full schedule, only responding to the outside world when the night bled into the early hours of the day. Wooyoung would probably get an answer in the next few days but he needs to know right now.

Wooyoung: Did you know Y/N moved here?

Yeosang: Yes.

Well, fuck.

Wooyoung: You didn’t think to tell me?

Yeosang: You broke up.

Yeosang: ?

Even his roommate knew you moved back to the city.

Double fuck.

His train arrives without preamble, brakes screeching as it slows to a stop. Wooyoung crowds into the compartment, happy for it to be relatively empty. Finding a spot on the wall, he zones out of the chaos for the next twenty minutes. A group of highschoolers laugh obnoxiously in the corner, snatching one another’s phones as they share god knows what between them. A young mom tries to placate her crying baby, the older man next to her rolling his eyes as he devours his morning paper. When the doors open at his stop, Wooyoung pauses for a second as an elderly woman enters the train. Catching her eye, he offers her his seat; only standing when she’s close enough so no one else tries to take it from her. 

Wooyoung slithers out of the closing doors and bolts out of the station as fast as he can.

Panting and sweating under his black parka, Wooyoung arrives outside the red doors of the elementary school he teaches at. Principal Martinez is tapping his foot at the top of the steps, arms crossed in front of his chest, scowl etched deep on his face. “This is the third time this month.”

“I know, I’m sorry! But the train got delayed with repairs or something and—”

“Save it. You have a class to get to.”

Breezing past, Wooyoung’s boots clack against the linoleum tile as he careens towards his classroom. The rowdy cacophony of third grade voices echo beyond the doorway, only increasing in volume as he peeks his head in.

A dozen shrill voices scream something along the lines of “Mr. Jung you’re late!”

“You’re all just early!” Wooyoung goads back, sending a thankful look at the teacher who stepped in to watch them until he arrived.

The room descends into giggles, students finding their places as he settles at his own desk.

“So today, we’re starting with circle time!”

“Let me get this straight: your ex asked you to pretend to be his girlfriend and now you’re spending Christmas with his family across the country?”

Sparing a glance from the manilla folder containing notes on your next patient, Hongjoong eyes you skeptically. The ridiculousness of the situation isn’t lost on you. You’d nearly convinced yourself the entire exchange Friday night was some cruel dream if not for the string of text messages proving it’d been real. Wooyoung’s first real attempt to speak with you post-breakup, and he asks you to pretend he didn’t break your heart six months ago.

“That’s about as straight as it gets.”

Hongjoong’s eyebrows furrow, “And you said yes, why?”

“Because…” 

You missed him? Because you still loved him? Because when you saw his message you thought he was finally ready to admit it'd all been a mistake? 

Because Wooyoung always convinced you to go along with whatever he asked.

“I really like his family.”

“Oh, sweet child,” he tsks, leafing through his own case file.

“Look, it’ll be nice to see them one last time and I’d rather spend the holidays with them than cramped in my apartment to avoid the tourists.”

“Are you sure that’s the only reason why?”

“Yep.”

“This can’t go wrong at all!”

“Shut up,” you say before dipping into the exam room, shifting your face into an enthusiastic smile. “How are we today, Mrs. Haspin?”

“We’re doing okay. Harper hasn’t been liking the new medicine you prescribed.”

“She hasn’t?” You gasp sarcastically, staring wide eyed at the tiny brunette with braided pigtails sitting on the exam room bed.

“They’re gross!” Harper cries with all the sincerity a four year old can muster, her tiny hands wrinkling the paper as she slaps the bed indignantly.

“Well that’s no good. I’ll make sure to check if they have other flavors.” You type a few notes in her electronic chart as you turn over your shoulder. “Mom, have you noticed a difference?”

“She’s not having as many coughing fits.”

“That is very good.” You curl your stethoscope in your palm, attempting to warm the cool metal. “Can I listen to your lungs, Harper?”

She shakes her head up and down vigorously, the pink and gold beads at the end of her pigtails clacking together.

“Alright, take a deep breath in.” The woosh of air entering her lungs fills the room. “And out. In. And out.”

You prompt her to continue several times, gliding the chest piece along various parts of her back as you listen intently. A few crackles pop in your ears, mucus coating her airways; only made worse by the dry winter of the city.

“Very good, Harper,” you praise before turning to her mom waiting anxiously in the corner. “With the winter make sure you’re using the humidifier as much as possible but her lungs sound better than last time so I’d like to stay on the meds.” You swivel back to your patient. “I’ll check with the pharmacy if they can do something about the flavor. Okay?”

Harper beams, glad to be heard. Her mother beams for an entirely different reason. Her daughter struggled with respiratory issues since she’d been born and as she aged they’d only gotten worse. Harper was the first patient you took when you started two months ago and in that time you’ve grown fond of her.

“All right, I’ll walk you all to the front. I think we can push out our next visit until six weeks since she’s been doing so well. If anything comes up, please don’t hesitate to call us.”

Handing them off to the receptionist to schedule their next appointment, you return to your office for a quick lunch.

Y/N: Because I live here

Youngie 🖤: since when?

How do you tell him that you’ve lived here since the day he broke up with you? How that night at dinner you were planning to surprise him by moving back to New York and removing the distance that plagued your relationship for three years?

The benefit of no longer being in a relationship means you don’t have to explain anything.

Locking your phone, you scarf down the squashed sandwich you brought from home before rushing to your next patient. 

Another week passes before Wooyoung reaches out to you again. You’re set to leave in a few days but work requires all the energy you can manage thanks to a volatile respiratory season. 

Youngie 🖤: Our flights are around the same time. Do you split a cab?

You spoke with Yeosang frequently enough (once in a blue moon) to know they still lived in the dingy old walk up they could hardly afford downtown. The high rise you rented further up Manhattan would be on his way to the airport but did you want to see Wooyoung sooner than needed?

Misery still festered in your veins since the break up. Eight years you’d dated; through senior year of undergrad, four years of medical school, and just shy of three years of residency. And the asshole couldn’t give you a single reason for your break up. No warning. No fighting. The same bouquet of delicate pink tulips waiting in hand for you as you arrived at the train station for your last visit to the city before relocating permanently. Yeosang texted you that very afternoon about his excitement to have you back as if nothing was wrong.

A beautiful afternoon holed up in his room for a late nap before dinner, apartment silent in the absence of his three roommates who’d usually greet you enthusiastically as you returned to the city for a visit. Wooyoung hadn’t acted any differently than the other times you visited, seemingly unaware of the surprise you planned to unveil at the fancy dinner he planned to congratulate you on finishing your long years of training.

But then he sat down and said the six words that replayed in your mind like a curse.

And that was the last time you heard his voice until Friday night; as if Wooyoung dove off the face of the earth. The only proof of living were the traces of him in his friends’ Instagram stories or faceless photos of him in their posts.

You were never one to post much on social media anyway but his shock at your move back to the city fanned a sick sense of satisfaction. As if to say “two can play at that game.” Wooyoung cut you out and you’d done the same. Keeping your move under lock and key despite sharing the same friend group.

Y/N: no thanks

You’re toeing the line of rudeness but what’s Wooyoung going to do? Break up with you again?

Terminal C of LaGuardia Airport four days before Christmas ranks among the top destinations no one in their right mind would want to be. Parents attempting to keep track of hyper children, businessmen scowling down their nose as they scream into their cellphones, adults slamming down overpriced drinks in preparation for the endless questions holidays bring.

“Bringing home anyone special?”

“When are you going to get married?”

“Grandchildren?”

The last is Wooyoung’s grandmother’s new favorite. Myungho faces the brunt of it; married three years and in no rush to add another mouth to feed just yet. Back in April, when you and Wooyoung visited for her birthday Bibi decided to skip asking when you two would tie the knot and go straight to procreation. 

How fun it’ll be to answer those questions again with his temporarily not ex-girlfriend.

The line for security is long and laborious. One agent yells at him for keeping his shoes on, another rolls her eyes when he asks if his laptop needs to come out of his backpack. In front of him, a frail looking elderly woman struggles with placing the hard plastic bin on the rolling conveyor belt. Behind, grumbles of discontent regarding her holding up the line rise in volume as Wooyoung helps her with her things; sending a smile to her thank you.

And because no good deed goes unpunished, Wooyoung gets pulled for an extra search once he passes the large metal detector.

A burly pale skinned man with blue nitrile gloves sorts through his belongings with the gentleness of a bull in a china shop. Wooyoung’s wrecked and dusty backpack passes inspection easily enough but the contents of his carry-on end up spread across the shiny metal table for further examination under the sterile lights. Gifts for his family, some books he’s teaching next semester, and a navy velvet box he hasn’t left the city without in the past year.

That is apparently the source of interest for TSA as the man pops open the lid to scan the marquis cut diamond ring before putting it back in its place. “Congrats, man.”

Wooyoung gives a tight smile. “Thanks.”

Nodding his head to his colleague, the TSA agent steps away and allows Wooyoung to pack his bags.

He really needs a drink.

“I’m sorry ma’am, the flight is overbooked. But there is room on the next flight to Denver!”

“No charge?”

The flight attendant keeps her best customer service voice but something dies behind her eyes. “Not unless you would like to upgrade to business class.”

You have the money and Wooyoung paid for your seat so it’s technically cheaper than it’d usually be. However, you know Wooyoung would take it personally if he found out you sat in business when he paid for a last minute economy flight on a teacher's salary. In the end, a few hours of comfort aren’t worth adding to the awkwardness you’ll face over the next week.

 “No, thank you. But if there’s an aisle seat available that’d be great.”

She taps on her keyboard with manicured nails for a moment, the light of the screen reflecting on her face. “Alright, your new flight number is AYX287 and you’ll be flying out of Gate 98.”

“Thank you,” you say, reviewing the boarding pass she printed. Your new gate is on the opposite side of the terminal but you have a little over an hour to make it there.

Rolling your silver carry-on next to you, you weave in and out of the other airport goers heading in the opposite directions. A curse of any crowded space, people forget to walk with a sense of purpose. You dodge a young couple, probably teenagers, standing in the middle of the walkway oblivious to anyone else; only to end up behind an gaggle of older women surrounded by a heavy cloud of perfume and cheap wine. One of their shirts reads “Happily Divorced!” in glittery cursive.

More nimble footwork and multiple sign checks later, you reach the correct wing of the terminal with forty five minutes to spare. Confirming that your gate does, in fact, exist, you turn back up the walkway to find a drink. Preferably several. The first time you see Wooyoung in months will require the strongest alcohol you can finally afford now that residency is over and you're making the hefty salary you’d been promised at the start of medical school.

A friendly faced woman, old enough to be your mother, greets you as you take a stool at her bar. 

“Cranberry margarita.” You slide over your credit card. “And start a tab, please.”  

The first overpriced drink goes down smoothly, a little sweet and perfectly tart; the second and third much the same. Pleasantly buzzed with fifteen minutes till boarding, you cash out and shuffle back to wait by the gate.

And in one of the cramped pleather seats of the waiting area, sits your ex-boyfriend.

Wooyoung is hallucinating. Two gin and gingers and a THC gummy churning in his stomach make the mirage in front of him look incredibly realistic but there is no way this is happening. The world isn’t that cruel.

Even if he deserves it.

You stand twenty feet away in the usual flight attire, every bit as beautiful as the last time he saw you. Loose gray sweats, the same old hunter green crew neck with the name of his hometown in frayed golden embroidery on the front, sherpa lined short ugg boots, and glasses perched on the end of your nose. The silver carry-on you bought in the airport during the last visit to his family at your side. And a sour look of absolute disgust twisting your lips when you catch him staring.

Better he sees you for the first time since the break up now instead of later in front of the audience of his nosy family. In the safety of anonymity, you can kill him multiple times over with looks alone, and Wooyoung can grovel and pander like he usually does.

Or Wooyoung would if you hadn’t taken a seat along the bay of windows at the opposite end of the alcove.

You actively avoid looking in his general direction for the next fifteen minutes. An impressive feat given he’s directly in front of the help desk and TV screen displaying updates for the flight. But you keep focus on your phone, tapping furiously to who Wooyoung assumes is Lisa. If he wakes up to the tiny blonde in his apartment one morning with a knife to his throat, there’ll at least be a paper trail of evidence.

The gate agent booms over the loudspeaker, announcing priority boarding and first class to come forward. Wooyoung’s bank account weeps at the idea of flying first class during Christmas. Who flies first class domestic? A true mystery for the ages.

The familiar head of hair, full of murderous thoughts aimed at him, boards with group three; flashing a polite smile to the gate agent as you strut down the hall without a glance back. 

When Wooyoung is called with the last group, he’s first in line. The airport is a dog eat dog world and his good deeds end where the boarding line begins.

Nearly every seat is filled when he shuffles down the cramped aisle, full overhead bins already closed half way down the plane. He doesn’t find you amongst the faces of passengers preparing for the next five hours, some already knocked out with eye masks and neck pillows.

Seat 27A, a window seat Wooyoung paid an extra $37 for, sits next to a blissfully vacant middle seat. There’s also just enough room for his black suitcase to fit overhead, snug between a gray hard case, and a blue duffle. 

The aisle seat in the row is occupied by a man who looks a little younger than Wooyoung's age, a college hoodie and baseball cap similar to his own. He rises, allowing Wooyoung to shuffle by and plop into his chair. Stuffing his backpack under the seat in front, Wooyoung shoots a few last minute texts. One to his family group chat, letting them know the flight is about to take off; resending the flight number for his dad to anxiously track. Another to his roommate group chat, reminding them to cover the drains before they leave town. And a final one to San, begging for thoughts and prayers.

He barely hits send when the seat next to him jostles with the weight of a body. Turning, Wooyoung spots the man in the aisle seat a few inches from himself. On the other side, his ex-girlfriend.

Great.

Wooyoung’s familiar mop of dark hair remains unseen through each new rush of passengers, the plane slowly filling up more and more. You dread to think he got stuck the same way you did hours ago, forced on a later flight than intended. If that was the case, would you be stuck at the airport waiting for him? Given his parents had to drive two hours to pick you both up, the answer is probably yes. 

Two hours unsupervised with Wooyoung’s mom would ruin the entire plan. You can’t lie to her. It’s one thing for Wooyoung to play this entire charade in her face and you to go along. It’s another to ask you to look her in the eye and pretend you hadn’t spent the last six months pretending her son didn’t exist.

Nature calls you to the cramped bathroom at the back of the aircraft as passengers at the front continue trickling in. Hopefully Wooyoung is sitting far away from you when you return to your seat.

Stupid motherfucker. You think, rattling the jammed door of the airplane stall in an attempt to force it open. Just as you're about to kick the door down, a flight attendant shoves it aside, flashing a tight smile of displeasure.

Shuffling up back to your seat, you awkwardly wait behind struggling passengers putting away their belongings in the sparse overhead space. Thank the powers that be, your new ticket came with better boarding.

Finally catching up to the familiar faces of the rows around your seat, you turn to find two men in your row. One in your seat, and the other your ex boyfriend.

You stop dead in your tracks. “You’re fucking kidding me.”

“Sorry!” the man who is not your ex-boyfriend apologizes.

“No! Not you.”

Wooyoung stares blankly, glazed eyes bugging out his skull like he can’t believe the irony either. If habit and history were to repeat itself, he carefully timed an edible before stepping through security. Given his propensity for being obnoxiously early to the airport, he should be high as a kite.

And now you’re stuck next to him drunk as a skunk.

Great.

Taking the now vacant aisle seat, you attempt to ignore Wooyoung once again; plugging in your headphones and pulling out a book you’ve been trying to get through for months. Lisa’s recommendation of smutty fantasy romance with hot immortal faeries. You didn’t see the appeal but at her insistence, you gave it a chance.

“Hey,” calls a voice to your left. 

Nope, not doing this. You think, forcing yourself to read the opening paragraph again but registering none of the words. It might as well be ancient hieroglyphics.

“Y/N,” he tries again. In your periphery, Wooyoung folds over at the waist to look around the man sandwiched between you. 

“What?” you snap, ripping out your headphones.

“How’ve you been?”

Rolling your eyes with a groan, you sink back into your chair, headphones replaced and book in the pocket in front of you. It’s going to be a long flight.

Murphy’s law states that anything that can go wrong will and your flight is no exception. The packed jet is stuck taxing for almost an hour, courtesy of the trademark fog and rain of New York in the winter. You can feel the heat of Wooyoung’s gaze burn the side of your face, cheeks heating under his scrutiny. But the full scale meltdown threatening to unleash if you entertain him has no place in the sanctity of a last minute holiday flight of people just trying to make it to their next destination.

He doesn’t stop when the plane finally lurches forward, witnessing you brace for the worst part of flying; take off.

The loud rattles and pitch of jet engines skyrocket your blood pressure, flooding your mouth with saliva as a threat of vomiting everywhere; a sickening cold sweat pooling at your back. All you can do is close your eyes, and take deep calming breaths your guided meditation apps recommend. Running through the facts keeps you from descending into full panic. Airplanes are notoriously safe. The odds of dying in a plane crash are one in eleven million. You’re more likely to die in a car crash or from something one of your patients brings into the hospital.

But the brief suspension in time and space as you rise through the atmosphere unsettles you to your core. 

The panic steeping into your veins is temporary, eager to vanish the second you reach cruising altitude. It disappears like a late winter snow under early spring sunlight, leaving only trace evidence it ever existed in the first place. But it’ll be back with a vengeance under the screaming brakes and the sounds of wheels hitting pavement as you land. The seatbelt sign chimes off and the breath you’d failed to release follows the fading light that illuminated it. 

Wooyoung tries to talk to you another two times before giving up. The final instance is a plea for the bathroom, which you graciously grant; thrilling in the relief you feel at his absence.

The poor guy between you two looks worse for wear. Once Wooyoung is out of earshot, you apologize, excusing the strange behavior with a white lie that he's just a friend from college you didn’t get along with and hadn’t seen in a while after he offers to trade seats. You refuse. If you sat next to Wooyoung they’d need more than a few people to pull your hands from his neck.

The stranger, Jay, laughs. “That’s crazy that you two ended up on the same flight. Are you from Denver?”

“Oh, no. Just visiting some family in Lavensville. What about you?”

“No way! My mom is from Lanesville.”

“Small world,” you laugh. “So what took you to the city?”

“I’m in grad school at Columbia. Getting my MBA.” 

Wooyoung arrives over your shoulder. “Excuse me.”

When you rise, you notice his face is tense as he passes to return to his seat. He pretends to sleep the rest of the flight as you chat with the man next to you. 

Six laborious hours pass before you land in Denver. Exiting the plane, you leave Wooyoung behind in favor of waiting by the restrooms on the way to arrivals. You tap your foot impatiently as he stumbles over, clearly exhausted by the late arrival of your flight and the idea of another two hours in his mom’s cramped sedan.

Shuffling next to one another in somber silence, you wait for Wooyoung to speak first. He dragged you into this, and it’s his job to make it work. “How’ve you been?”

“Fine.” You stare straight ahead. His hand brushes yours by accident and you make more space between you so it doesn’t happen again.

“How’s work?” Wooyoung asks.

“Fine.”

“Okay, look.” He turns, stepping directly into your path and nearly toppling over when you bounce off his chest. “I’m sorry for all of this but you agreed to come so can we please at least pretend to act like we like each other?”

Unfortunately, Wooyoung is right. He might have put his foot in his mouth, but you didn’t take the chance to bail. He’s only fractionally more guilty than you are for this charade.

“Fine,” you sigh.

He pins you with a look, eyebrows arched as if asking “are you sure?”

Shuffling around him, you begin your journey to baggage claim once again, Wooyoung hot on your heels.

“I’m working at a hospital uptown, I live in Yorkville, and I still prefer the bus to the train.”

“Okay, now we’re getting somewhere.” Wooyoung nods. “I’m at the same school, in the same apartment, and still living with San and Yeosang. But Mingi moved to Williamsburg with his girlfriend.”

You try to smother the snarkiness of your voice but a sarcastic “I know” slips free.

Even if you weren’t as close with the boys due to the break up, they’d been your friends as much as his; especially Mingi’s girlfriend, who’d you introduced him to. Lia invited you to their housewarming party when they finally settled in but you missed it due to work. A small blessing to avoid running into Wooyoung so soon after the break up.

The conveyor belt of remaining unclaimed luggage spins like the saddest merry-go-round in existence. Wooyoung jumps forward to snatch your suitcase before you can react, rolling it your direction before diving back in for his own. Once out of the way, he calls his mom to confirm she’s pulling around to pick you two up. 

The silver sedan whips to the curve, Wooyoung’s mom beaming from the driver’s seat.

“My babies!” she cries through the rolled down window.

Mrs. Jung always gave you the enthusiasm your own mother couldn’t feign. Waving at her before circling the trunk where Wooyoung packs away your bags, you snatch his hand before he can circle back to the passenger door.

“Should we tell them I still live in Boston?”

As if you’ve just spoken another language, Wooyoung simply blinks at you.

“How are we gonna explain separate apartments? It makes no sense.”

“Oh,” he gasps, as if the thought didn’t occur to him. “Ugh, yeah. Good idea.”

The security guard monitoring the pick up area begins striding towards the car, inhaling to yell a warning. Throwing your remaining luggage inside the trunk roughly, you both sprint to enter the vehicle. Wooyoung plants himself in the passenger seat, squeezing his mom in a tight hug as you buckle in the middle seat. Untangling from her needy son, Mrs. Jung peels out and joins the line of cars attempting to merge on the interstate. 

Reclining the seat back, Wooyoung knocks out immediately, leaving you to fend for yourself.

“How’s Boston, dear?” She chimes, voice light and bouncy despite the late hour.

You provide your stock answer for everytime someone asks over the past three years.

“Cold, wet. Lots of sick babies.”

“At least they’re consistent!”

You try to swallow the instinct to comb through Wooyoung’s hair as he naps. The first thing you learned about him in the early phase of your relationship was that Wooyoung needed some kind of physical contact at all times or he’d die. At least, he thought so. It’d been annoying at first; the constant hand holding, suffocating hugs that left your arms useless as you tried to study, the overabundance of cartoonish kisses anywhere his lips could reach at the moment. But over eight years, you grew to appreciate his special way of showing affection. When words failed the man who always had something to say, he relied on touch to convey the things he couldn’t verbalize.

Even if you say all the right things and act like nothing's wrong, anyone who has ever been associated with Wooyoung will know something is up if he isn’t hanging off you like a koala. If you’re going to pretend the last six months hadn’t happened, then you have no reason not to treat him the way you always had.

Your nails snag on a few invisible tangles in his shaggy hair that spills across the cloth seat. It’s longer than when you last saw him in the summer, top half pulled back in an elastic. Continuing to provide updates, you gently brush the bangs hanging in his face. Wooyoung whines sleepily when you pause, causing his mom to laugh.

“Nice to know the city hasn’t changed him.”

Quick to appease, you start again before responding. “Eh, I don’t know about that. Have you seen some of his shoes?”

“Still?” she gasps.

“Unfortunately, I think it’s terminal.”

Mrs. Jung’s cackly laugh is a perfect doppelganger of her son’s. Shrill and mischievous, compelling you to laugh along in pure glee even if you don’t find shared humor; bewitched by the pure joy.

Once the initial rush of reunion wanes, she insists you catch some sleep in the backseat during the long drive. The gentle caress of warm air from the vents, paired with the smooth carols from the radio, lulls you down into a shallow rest.

As his mom rolls to a stop in their driveway, the gentle glow of the car's cabin lights draw Wooyoung awake. Eyes only a quarter open, he stretches in the reclined seat with an obnoxious yawn, hands brushing your stomach. You shrug his hand off your thigh, burrowing back down into the collar of your sweater

His mom opens the driver's door, inviting in the chilly air from outside. “Come on, sleepy heads. We’re home.”

Home for Wooyoung is a cream two story Williamsburg Revival style home with royal blue shutters. His dad added the two car garage himself, meticulously matching the exterior to the existing home, blending old and new seamlessly under the watchful eye of his mom. The now gray and dead garden that usually bloomed wildly below the first floor windows was his grandmother’s contribution when she moved in before Wooyoung started highschool.

When his parents were both students at the obscure liberal arts college Lavensville was built around, his mom had been obsessed with the very house Wooyoung grew up in. According to his dad, Wooyoung’s mom talked more about the house than anything else; a true historic preservationist to her core.

It was an odd way to ask someone to marry you, but his dad always said “Some women wanted a ring. Your mom wanted this house.”

His dad surprised her with the ring after she stopped crying about the house.

Golden string lights drip from the corners of the roof, casting the exterior in a buttery soft haze. Each window sporting a wreath with a thick red velvet ribbon. A heavy layer of snow coating the ground like powdered sugar makes the entire scene like something out of a snow globe. 

Another yawn before braving the outside, Wooyoung spots you in the rearview mirror; features curled in a sleepy scowl, eyes squinted against the sudden light.

He wants to pull you into his arms and kiss you back to sleep. Follow the slope of your nose and bow of your lips with his fingertips until you swat him away and hide in the warmth of his neck. Six months ago he could have. Now, he has to brave the cold himself.

Wooyoung joins his mom at the back of the car, shouldering her away from the trunk as she insists on helping carry everything inside. She manages to snag his backpack and your carryon before he can shoo her towards the path to the front door where his dad is jamming on an old pair of sneakers to come help.

“We got it!” You call across the icy lawn, bidding the older man to stay inside as you struggle with the luggage.

“I can see that,” his dad laughs, jogging down the salted sidewalk curving along the front of the house.

His dad lifts your larger suitcase out of the truck with ease, leaving Wooyoung to roll his own inside while you balance your tote bag and his carryon. Wooyoung manages to snag the canvas bag off your elbow as he walks past. The wheels grate against the uneven brick sidewalk as everyone rushes to return to the heated interior of the house.

It’s well past midnight, the faint glow of Christmas lights illuminating the climb to the second floor. Wooyoung’s room is just as he left it the last time he visited in the spring. The headboard of the tiny twin bed resting against the wall just under the window looking out to the front yard, posters from his childhood still tacked up crookedly. 

Wooyoung tries very hard not to think about the last time he shared the quilt covered bed. How the last trip here had been the last night you slept in his arms; the last time he laid you bare beneath him, giggled against your lips as you both tried and failed to stay silent; the last time he fell asleep tangled in you, with the blue velvet box he brought everywhere hidden in his suitcase only feet away, ready to ask you at the drop of a hat. 

Six months and the memories felt as real as they had when it first happened. 

The same blue velvet box with the same ring sits in his suitcase but he can’t think about it because if he does he’ll beg you to come back to him. You lay curled under the quilt like before except this time Wooyoung can’t glue himself to your back and trace shapes on your stomach for you to guess. He can’t kiss you good night and tell you he loves you even though he still does; he probably always will. He can’t do it. 

Because you deserve better. 

A better life, a better man. One who doesn’t rope you into this level of insanity instead of asking for a second chance and explaining why he ruined the best thing in his life. 

But Wooyoung is a coward. 

“I can sleep on the floor,” he offers, unzipping his suitcase for clean clothes to sleep in.

Digging in your own suitcase, you scoff at the idea. “Don’t be stupid, what if Bibi comes in?”

A tiny speck of hope you might want to share the bed for other reasons melts into nothing. Of course, you wouldn’t want him anywhere near you. The moment in the car when he was feigning slip just to feel the gentle scratch of your nails through his hair meant nothing. “She’s gotten better about knocking!”

“Yeah, after she saw us having sex!”

Not like that’s going to happen again.

“We can share the bed, it’s too cold up here to sleep on the floor.” You grab your toiletry bag and shuffle to his door. “You’re a diva when you don’t get good sleep.”

“I’m not a diva,” Wooyoung whines. But his rebuttal bounces off the piece of wood locking him alone in his room.

When you return from the bathroom, Wooyoung takes his turn to brush his teeth and wash his face. It’s just for a few days, he reminds himself. You leave first thing in the morning the day after Christmas and after he gets back to the city he can tell his family the truth. Or an altered version of events where Wooyoung hasn’t lied to all of them.

Until then, Wooyoung gathers all the patience he typically reserves for the army of eight year olds he deals with every day in an effort to not descend into insanity. 

This was his idea. He can do this. He can pretend everything is fine. He can share a bed with you and be totally normal; unlike every other time you fell asleep in his bed since the beginning of your now finished relationship.

He finds you balancing on the edge of the narrow mattress, a sliver of space open for him to sink into. His chest squeezes but he stays silent as the minutes tick by. He knows you’re awake. Your leg twitches and brushes back against his before you jerk away like his skin burns. 

Wooyoung wants to roll over and trace the dip between your shoulders like he used to when neither of you could fall asleep. It’d work in no time, he knows it. But he settles for counting backwards until his thoughts drift off.

You fall asleep somewhere around the second time he reaches the forties. When Wooyoung reaches zero again, he starts over. 

Shuffling into the cold kitchen, you barely crack your eyes open as you beeline for the coffee pot resting on the counter. Wooyoung’s mom greets you from the dining table, eyes scanning her newspaper as you reply with a mumble “morning.”

One would think years of twenty-four hour shifts and early mornings would make waking up easier but you’d sleep all day if given the chance; however, Wooyoung suffocating you like an octopus forced you from the heated sanctuary under the covers and downstairs. Already it was too easy to pretend you were still together. Waking up tangled in him, his face squashed against your sweater clad chest as he snored, blissfully unaware of the budding panic attack you’d calmed with a freezing shower full of choked tears.

Planting your rear in a dark oak dining chair around the table, the jolt of caffeine and sugar lulls your senses awake as you scroll your phone. 

You send a text to your little brother, confirming your parents had made it to their cruise safely while your flight crossed the country. Two weeks in the Caribbean, all expenses paid, sounded a lot better than a week in rural Colorado with your ex-boyfriend. Thankfully, there’s no cell service in the middle of the ocean; so you don’t need to explain to your mother why you were spending Christmas with Wooyoung, who she truly was never fond of to begin with.

Sometime after bed, Lisa sent a string of vaguely threatening emojis and a picture of her yorkie with the Christmas sweater you bought as an early gift. Assuring her Wooyoung had been on his best behavior so far, you switched over to skim your clogged work email.

“Do you want some breakfast, sweetie?” 

You tilt your mug towards her. “This is fine.”

“How can you be a doctor and try to tell me coffee is a healthy breakfast?”

“I have horrible news if you think doctors have time to do any of the things we tell people they should.”

“Well, it’s a good thing you’re here then because you have plenty of time now.”

Wooyoung hates waking up alone. It feels inexplicably wrong. Especially after sharing an apartment those four years you attended medical school. There’d been plenty of road bumps but spending every night curled up under the comforter with the woman he loved made it all fade to black. He never slept as good as those years.

Except this morning, he wakes up to your fingers brushing his hair like always, and for a second Wooyoung thinks the entire breakup must’ve been a horrible dream. Wooyoung hadn’t moved a muscle lest the passes of your short nails sending goosebumps down his spine stopped. Eventually, the lazy drags lulled him back into the land of sleep as your heart sang his favorite lullaby.

The second time Wooyoung woke up, you’d been long gone and he felt the familiar emptiness he thought he’d forgotten after all those months apart.

Trudging down the stairs with loud footsteps, Wooyoung spots his mom in the kitchen, mouth spread wide over laughter as you sit at the counter, cradling a steaming mug. If Wooyoung had to bet, it probably contained more sugar and milk than coffee.

“Morning,” he grumbles, forehead resting against the cool marble of the island as he continues to doze in front of the audience.

His mom pats his back as she passes to reach the fridge, “Go sit down, Woo. You're in my way!”

“Everyone is so mean to me,” he pouts, but rounds the counter to sit next to you nonetheless, resting his cheek on your shoulder, feeling you startle at the contact. Wooyoung hides a satisfied smirk in your sweater when a hand starts scratching his back under his hoodie. He can almost forget you're lying to everyone in the gentle passes of your cold fingers chilling against his hot skin.

His mom works to heat the pan on the stove. “Your brother is getting in this afternoon so we thought of letting everyone relax until this evening and then having a game night.”

“Where’s Kyungmin?”

“He went with Bibi to volunteer at the church this morning.”

“Sucker,” you mumble for Wooyoung’s ears only, sending him into giggles.

Wooyoung’s grandmother has a particular way of guilting everyone in his family to do exactly what she wants. It’s why he’s sharing his childhood bed with his ex-girlfriend, why his dad keeps the house unbearably warm all year round, and why his little brother is no doubt undergoing military grade interrogation first thing in the morning at the hands of nosey grandmothers.

Going to church with Bibi was less about being closer to God and more about being paraded in front of her old lady friends with single granddaughters. Wooyoung had been a victim until he met you, each summer at home more exhausting than the last with not so subtle reminders Ms. So-and-so's granddaughter was very pretty and very available, and Oh she also wants to be a teacher! Isn’t that cute? But the second Wooyoung sent a picture to his mom of you and him at the park, cheeks smashed together, announcing he was not so casually dating you, his grandmother ceased all effort to set him up. And after she met you at graduation, Wooyoung beamed with the knowledge his entire family not only approved but liked his girlfriend. 

Leaving poor Kyungmin to bare the brunt of Bibi’s well-meaning torture almost made Wooyoung feel guilty. Operative word being almost. Because Wooyoung survived it, their older brother survived it, and now it was Kyungmin’s turn to endure the special brand of Jung family meddling. It was good for him.

The second his family finds out he's technically single, Wooyoung knows it’s only a matter of time before Bibi smothers him in his sleep for breaking up with the girl she considers family. And after, when she resurrects him from the dead, Wooyoung will be thrown to Bibi’s friends like a sacrificial lamb to starving wolves.

Stealing a sip of your overly sweet coffee can’t clear his mouth of the sour taste of dating again. 

“Wooyoung, you need to make up the guest bed for your brother,” his mom says, dropping a plate of eggs and toast on the counter for him and Y/N to share.

“What about her?” Wooyoung asks, lips stretching as he stuffs his face.

“She’s a guest!”

Washing down a harsh swallow with another sip of coffee, Wooyoung mutters a “hardly,” under his breath.

“Get your own!” you snap, shoving the mug out of his reach.

Wooyoung responds with a high pitched whine, huffing similar to a toddler rather than a man who's almost thirty. “Why are you both being so mean to me? I haven’t even done anything yet.”

Rising to pour his own mug of caffeinated gold, his mom quickly claims the empty chair before she bats Wooyoung away. Claiming something about “girl time” as an excuse to get him out of the kitchen before he can truly annoy them to his fullest potential.

When the afternoon rolls around, Bibi greets you with a fierce hug and a grandmotherly pinch to your cheek, smiling up at you as she asks for any and every update since she last saw you in April for her birthday.

Luckily, Kyungmin unconsciously rescues you as he enters the house, boxes piled high in his arms of goodies from the other ladies at church trying to court him on their granddaughter’s behalf. Rushing to his aid, you give him a gentle side hug as you walk with him to the kitchen.

“So…” you start, eyeing the stacks of cookies crowding the counter. “How was church?”

A pained groan answers you, Kyungmin dropping his head to the marble counter with a thud. You can’t contain your snicker, snagging one of the deformed gingerbread men to dunk in your fresh cup of coffee.

“Only a few more months,” Kyungmin mutters under his breath, the reprieve of college clearly tethering him to sanity.

Wooyoung told you all about Bibi’s ways when you started dating, thankful to no longer entertain doting mothers and grandmothers interested in him only because he was single and knew basic manners unlike many of the men lurking around Lavensville. Poor Kyungmin didn’t stand a chance if Wooyoung hadn’t managed to charm his way out until he got a girlfriend Bibi approved of.

“At least we get snacks out of it!” You clap, continuing to sort his haul as Kyungmin hides in his arms.

A tan hand sneaks over your shoulder to steal the decapitated cookie still in your grip, turning to see Wooyoung nibbling on one as he observes the collection of cookies, fruit, and other treats.

“Come on!” You stomp your foot like a toddler.

“Tastes better when it’s stolen.” Wooyoung winks, forcing you and his brother to dry heave in unison. Your reaction isn't genuine, only an effort to hide the squeeze in your chest at how easily he can fall back into old habits after months of radio silence.

Wooyoung’s mom breezes into the kitchen, unbothered by your bickering as she types out a text message. “Myungho and Mia land in an hour. Your dad is already on the way to pick them up.” She rattles off, more to herself than anyone else. “Kyungmin, you need to tidy all of this up. Wooyoung you already put clean sheets on the guest bed? Great. Y/N, dear, would you mind helping with dinner later?”

“Of course.”

Dinner consists of chili you didn’t assist with other than pulling out extra toppings from the fridge for, and everyone chattering around the table. Myungho is sharing some story about his and Mia’s neighbor who refused to close their blinds, everyone laughing at Mia’s grimace when she recalled the horrors of the “tighty-whities” incident. Each time you stay with the Jungs you're shocked how well they get along, everyone slotting together perfectly like some cheesy sitcom family.

It’s not that your family didn’t love each other, but there was little bonding you together other than shared blood and memories. Your mom clearly favored your brother while your dad tried to make up for the snub by prioritizing you. Growing up with the invisible competition left bitter resentment to this day. At least now, after years of therapy and freedom from the suffocating expectations of your childhood home, you and your brother shared a mutual understanding that it was your parents fault for the animosity between you. Nothing could reverse the damage already deeply ingrained, but you’d become a more united front during family affairs. 

That’d been the first time you and Wooyoung fought in your tentative relationship. He hadn’t seemed to understand how you could talk about your brother with such vitrole, confused why you weren’t more excited to see him after living in the city permanently since sophomore year. Not that you’d explained your family dynamic prior to calling him in a full blown meltdown in Washington Square Park at midnight. But Wooyoung listened. And when you brought up how perfect his family seemed, he quickly corrected your assumption.

Wooyoung knew his parents loved him and his brothers equally. But they were helping him pay thousands of dollars in tuition out of state for him to be a teacher while his older brother made six figures fresh out of college as an engineer. Even if they were happy for him, Wooyoung struggled with the internal conflict of idolizing his brother and feeling like he’d never measure up.

It’d been the first time Wooyoung cried in front of you.

The tense conversation and awkward small talk of your childhood home didn’t seem to have space here at the Jungs, nothing but laughter and warmth filling each nook and cranny. Even the awkwardness of sitting next to your ex-boyfriend, pretending he was still your partner, seemed to be stifled with the company.

“So, Y/N, when are you planning to move back to New York? You finished residency, right?” Mia asks over her glass of wine, eyes bright.

“Ugh,” you stutter, unprepared for such directness.

“Or maybe you’re thinking of moving to Boston?” She eyes Wooyoung.

“We’re, uh,” Wooyoung pipes up, frantically looking at you.

“I’m looking at jobs in the city but nothing's come up yet.” 

“That sucks,” Myungho chimes, working to help their father clear the table for games.

Rather than answering, you take a long draw of your drink before rising to hide in the bathroom.

In the silence of the small half bath under the stairs, you attempt to control your stuttering breath. A few splashes of cool water on your face help shock your system but it does nothing to stop the  It’d taken years to perfect the stone-faced facade you presented to families when the outcome was less than favorable. 

A light tap at the door startles you from the nosedive your conscious has taken.

“I’ll be out in a minute.” You call, scrubbing your hands in the sink.

“It’s me,” Wooyoung chirps on the other side of the wood. 

Opening the door, Wooyoung leans his shoulder against the jamb, eying you warily. Pulling him into the cramped space, you press the door closed and lean against it. “I can’t do this, Woo. I can’t lie to them.”

 “Don’t think of it as lying! Just pretend you're back in that drama class in college!”

“Oh, you mean the class I almost failed because I couldn’t act?” you whisper harshly.

“Just let me take the lead okay? All you have to do is be normal.”

Another knock on the door startles you both. When you got so close to Wooyoung, you have no idea, but there are only a scant few inches between you and you can smell the peppermint schnapps on his breath.

“Wooyoung, Y/N. Is everything okay?”

Twisting around your stiff body, Wooyoung nudges you out of the way as he twists the handle and pulls the door inward.

“Yeah,” Wooyoung answers, opening the door to a concerned Bibi. “She wasn’t feeling well.”

Bibi brushes past him, the cool back of her wrinkled hand pressing against your forehead. “Are you okay, dear?”

“I’m fine, just got a little light headed.”

One arm curls around yours, the other gently patting your back as Bibi guides you back towards the kitchen with Wooyoung trailing behind. “You know, when I was pregnant with Wooyoung’s father I got lightheaded all the time.”

Bibi’s implication isn’t lost on you, or Wooyoung for that matter when you hear him curse as he trips behind you.

“Oh?” 

“Almost everyday I’d have to drink a gallon of ginger tea just to get out of bed.” She guides you into a seat before turning. “I’ll make you cup while the boys set everything up, okay?”

“That’s really not neccess—”

Bibi is already filling the kettle and rummaging in the cabinets for tea bags as if you didn’t speak at all. Wooyoung won’t look at you, not that you can look at him either. 

Kids.

Just another thing on the long list of wants you wouldn’t be getting. For so long, children were this amorphous thing you wanted some day. That was until Wooyoung came along and slowly changed those vague thoughts into real hopes. They had been discussed to death over and over. Wooyoung wanted as many as possible before he started teaching, then eagerly explained that two kids were more than enough after his first day of school.

All those nights snuggled in bed talking about baby names, Wooyoung offering to stay at home if you wanted.

“I’ve always wanted to be a trophy husband,” he told you. He smothered his face in your neck, sealing the offer with a gentle kiss. “Could be a trophy dad too.”

“You’d give up teaching to raise my baby?” you asked.

“I’d give up everything if that's what you wanted.”

He would have.

Cursing his grandmother for making an already tense situation worse, Wooyoung shakes his head as she flutters around the kitchen. He should be relieved Bibi moved away from asking when they were getting married and fast forwarding straight to asking for grandchildren. At least Wooyoung hadn’t been as close to being the dad as he was as being a husband. Kids were hypothetical, no matter how often you two discussed them; but marriage was almost reality.

Kyungmin is already setting up the Scrabble board and dishing out letters. Eight people was far too many so like every year they divide into pairs. Mom and Dad, Myungho and Mia, Kyungmin and Bibi, finally you and him.

Wooyoung tries not to think about Bibi’s comments but the mug of tea sits steaming on the table and the images are just there. You pregnant; a nursery decorated in greens like the one you told him about; celebrating Christmas in the city, the snow covering everything and requiring the little tyke to be wrapped up until they resembled an overstuffed dumpling.

His mind wanders as the board crowds with letters. Bibi and Kyungmin struggle to play anything worth more than fifteen points while his parents brush off challenge after challenge as they fill the board with words like “Paczki” and “Rudistid.”

“Quad, baby! Do you know how hard it is to get rid of a Q?” Mia asks everyone, high fiving Myungho next to her. 

Wooyoung exchanges a conspiratory smile with you before he ruins their celebration. “I know! And when you have a U and an A and every other letter I need for ACQUAINT on a triple word score. Plus bingo for all the tiles we don’t have…Boom one hundred and seven points.”

Arms thrown around each other's shoulders, he bounces up and down with you in victory; cheeks squished together, matching bright tipsy grins. Almost like everything is normal.

“No fair! You’re an English teacher!” Kyungmin protests, nostrils flared.

“Yeah to third graders, Minnie. You know just as many words as they do, I promise.”

You don’t move from his hold except to take another swig of the tea his grandmother made. Wooyoung tries not to think about what it means; having an arm curled around the back of your chair while you settle into the crook of his chest, watching his family over the top of your head, relaxing firm pressure of your body against his own. Taking the tentative peace for granted, Wooyoung greedily overindulges in the illusion of normalcy.

In the cool toned light of dawn, you wake in Wooyoung’s arms once again. This time you're both on your sides, Wooyoung pressed firmly behind you as he snores in your ear. A familiar lump pokes against your rear, scorching your skin through the layers of clothes that separate you.

Wiggling in his grip, you're ashamed of the quiet sound fleeing your lips as Wooyoung flexes his arms to hold you tighter, his hips rolling against you harshly to pin you to him.

Blame it on the months without feeling another person’s touch, or the liminal space that exists when the world is asleep and void of any real consequences, but a hollowness stings your core and dampens your underwear.

Years of dating meant years of exploring one another’s bodies, discovering every spot that drove the other mad and perfecting the balance of teasing and satisfaction. You still remember the first night in your shared apartment years ago; Wooyoung blindfolded and tied to the bed, putty under your fingers as you rode him until your eyes felt permanently crossed and your legs numb. And just when you thought the night was over, sated with his cum leaking onto the sheets, Wooyoung knotted the silk scarf around your own wrist and “cleaned up” the mess between your thighs until you actually blacked out.

The very memory has you arching backwards, clenching around nothing but disappointing emptiness.

It’s wrong – so so so wrong – to fantasize about your ex-boyfriend while he’s asleep next to you, none the wiser to your needs. But the way his hand on your stomach fists the fabric of your shirt, pulling you into him again, beckons you closer to the edge of temptation. Wooyoung told you to act natural. What’s more natural than enjoying some half asleep heavy petting? You’re already pretending to date him, why not reap some of the old benefits you’d missed in your time apart?

Just as you turn in Wooyoung’s arms, set on waking him with an offer even he can’t refuse, he yawns awake. Arms stretching high, he pushes you from the toasty covers and onto the floor with a bang!

“Jesus Christ!” you groan, jolting pain in your elbow shocking your system as it catches the edge of the bed frame.

Wooyoung’s head pops over the side of the mattress. “Why’re you down there?”

Scoffing, the back of your head thuds against the floor; eyes sinking shut as you fight the urge to murder him. Three more days and you’ll never have to deal with the ridiculousness that follows Wooyoung like a shadow. Three more days and you can go back to pretending he doesn’t exist.

You hear, rather than see, Wooyoung exit into the hallway. Stretching your lungs around another deep breath, you follow behind him. Passing the bathroom door as you pad down stairs, you're greeted with an empty kitchen. The stove clock reads just past nine so more bodies should trickle in soon. In the meantime, you turn on the coffee pot and wait as the kitchen fills with the comforting smell. Sending a silent prayer to the universe, you prepare for quality time with Mrs. Jung and Mia. Another day of lying to the people who treat you better than your own family. 

Wonderful.

“Morning, sweetie.” Bibi bursts into the kitchen, a whirlwind of activity even at the early hour. 

“Coffee?”

“That stuff's no good for you,” she chides, taking a spot at the dining table with her own cup. “Our appointments are in thirty minutes, better go get ready before the boys use all the hot water.”

Like a teenager with his first wet dream, Wooyoung hides in the sanctuary of the bathroom. Thankfully, his brothers aren’t prone to waking before noon and he stakes his claim by locking the door and entering the steam.

Maybe dry humping his ex-girlfriend while half asleep was a bad idea but Wooyoung knows you pushed back into him with a purpose. He’d heard that whimper, felt your legs squeeze together the way you always did when you needed his help. Wooyoung hadn’t meant to launch you to the floor but overdue break up sex with the rest of the house due to wake up any minute couldn’t be a good idea. And with three more days of this charade he needed less complications, not more. Sex felt like it would make things very, very complicated.

But the knowledge of how wrong he should feel doesn’t stop the memories of from placating his mind as he palms his aching cock. Months of abstinence fail to dissolve Wooyoung’s photorealistic memories of you in compromising positions; bent in half to take his cock, staring down your nose from on top of his lap. And his personal favorite, on your knees, eyes watering as your swollen lips stretch around his length, the flared head nudging the back of your throat.

The swiftnesses of his orgasm is a fatal blow against his fragile ego. Biting the meat of his fist, Wooyoung closes his eyes as the evidence swirls the drain. Unfortunately, the confusion pulsing through him doesn’t follow.

Out of the steam, he returns to his room, ready to throw on a pair of sweats and spend the day sleeping to avoid his feelings.  Too busy thinking about you, Wooyoung isn’t paying attention when he opens the door and runs straight into you.

Also half naked.

“Oof!” 

Wooyoung grunts with the impact from the floor. Arms caging your head, you stare up at him like you can’t believe he’s there. Bare chest on bare chest. His towel unties, leaving his right leg naked against yours, hips cradled against your own.

This is not happening.

“What the hell?”

“Why are you naked?” he stutters.

Very naked, and pressed against him intimately. The heat of your core is more than enticing. Even though he washed all the desire from this morning away, his body betrays him from years of habit. Maybe touching you wasn’t such a bad idea. What could it hurt?

“I thought I’d flash you,” you spit, eyes rolling. “I was changing.”

You’re still beneath him, squirming. Right against his dick. A pang of want rushes through him like a thousand volts, his nerves turning into individual live wires everywhere your skin meets his. The cold sneaking through the windows is all more evident by your pinched nipples pressing into his chest.

“I didn’t know you were in here,” he explains. Still, he doesn’t move. He couldn’t even if he tried.

“Cleary.”

You must realize he’s hard because you stop moving, staring wide eyed as his entire body lays heavy against yours. He should have let you talk him into whatever you wanted earlier, consequences be damned. Your gaze lingers on his mouth. He doesn’t want to make assumptions but your head tilts, breath fanning his chin. His own stutters, eyes flitting between your mouth and your eyes as he leans closer and—

“YN? Are you ready?” Mia calls from the door. “We don’t want to be late!”

“Just a minute!” you respond. “Get off.” 

Wooyoung scrambles to his feet, towel back around his waist to hide what little of his dignity is left. Which is, somehow, far less than when he entered the shower minutes ago.

He tries not to look but you're standing there, breasts on display, and Wooyoung is only a man who was in love with you for years and still very much is no matter what lies he tells himself.

“Turn around, this isn’t a peep show.”

He does, but an argument fizzles at the tip of his tongue. He’s seen you naked enough to draw you from memory; the mole on your shoulder, the scar on your hip from when you learned to ride a bike and fell into a ditch, the knobs of your spine. Wooyoung knows all of them like the back of his hand. A couple months ago you would have goaded him into looking as much as he wanted, teased him and in the process riled yourself up until looking turned to touching.

You clearly don’t want that as you race to throw on whatever clothes are nearby and rush out the room.

Stupid.

He can’t believe he nearly kissed you. He actually can but what he can’t believe is you seemed to want it just as bad as he did. But it wouldn’t make anything better. This wasn’t a movie where he could kiss you and all the problems plaguing your relationship would disappear. You’d still hate him and he’d still be hopelessly in love with you.

After dressing and basking in humiliation, Wooyoung descends to the living room where his dad and brothers watch a documentary on the Discovery channel. Sinking into the worn leather of their ancient couch, he cracks open one of the books he brought from home. Brave New World wasn’t light reading, but he’d been meaning to give it a try since Yeosang recommended it to him and what better way to spend his free time? 

Soon enough, his dad snores from his spot in the recliner, chin tipped back against the headrest. Kyungmin remains entranced by the colorful birds dancing across the screen while his other brother no doubt taps away at work emails cluttering his phone despite the holidays. It’s the kind of peace and content Wooyoung loved about his family. Co-existing without needing to interact, enjoying each other's presence while living their own lives.

The nail salon buzzes with conversation. The acrid sting of acetone and nail polish burn your nose under the harsh white lights, reminding you of the hospital. Mia is happily chattering away, blasting through any stilled pauses or awkward silences. Bibi and Mrs. Jung sit at the counter getting their nails painted by the attendants in calm silence.

You try not to kick the young woman scrub your foot as she brushes against your ticklish nerves, squirming in your seat as she gives a tight lipped smile at your discomfort. For a week off for Christmas you cashed in every favor, picked up every single on call asked of you, nearly breaking under the demand to stretch yourself so thin as the new doctor in your department. The horrific results of hours on your feet were being ground down and clipped before you. 

Relaxing was… difficult for you. Or other peoples’ definition of relaxation was. To you, the perfect day off was running around town, hitting an early morning pilates class followed by an overpriced coffee and finding something to do in the city that offered everything. Sitting still was a necessary evil to get to and fro but it left you to stew with your thoughts you preferred to drown in an overwhelming weight of activity.

Wooyoung’s stunt this morning was perfect cannon fodder for your idle mind. It didn’t mean anything; biological reactions to seeing someone and feeling someone who knew your body intimately for years. Seeking closure in the most primitive way after months without any sort of gratification. It meant nothing.

“Y/N,” Mia calls, bringing you to turn and look at her. 

Her usually glowing face is apprehensive, lip worried between her teeth and eyes downcast. 

“Yeah?” 

“You work with kids, right?”

“All day,” you laugh, trying to break the tension.

Mia hesitates, struggling to find the words she wants to say. “After all the stuff you’ve seen, do you still want them?”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you and Wooyoung think you’ll have kids someday?”

“I mean not anytime soon considering…” That we aren’t together, you finish in your mind.

But Mia assumes the unspoke truth is the fact you’re supposed to be living in Boston while Wooyoung is living in New York.

“I mean of course, but like you guys both work with kids and I feel like you know the worst that could happen! My friend Mina just had her baby and she says she can’t sleep. She just sits up all night watching him because she’s afraid somethings gonna happen.”

“Mia, are you and Myungho…”

“Not yet,” she smiles. “But we’ve been talking about it more and I know I want that with him but I’m just—”

“Scared?”

She nods sheepishly.

Hesitating as you weigh your next words carefully, you think about all the conversations you’ve had with worried parents. Most of the kids and parents you met were under less than positive circumstances. Babies with underdeveloped lungs, toddlers who couldn’t breath from just sitting up. You’d be lying if it didn’t make you question having your own. The powerlessness you felt when no matter how hard you worked to fix things only for it to be all for naught. 

But all of the bad days don't outweigh the good ones. When NICU preemies got to leave the ward with their families for the first time. Having a child take their first full breath because their medication was finally starting to work. The plethora of thank you cards hanging on your fridge and displayed in your office from the families you’d helped.

And you remember all the stories Wooyoung told you about his classroom. Kids who could barely read falling in love with the books he gave to them, hounding him for more stories. When he made way with a problem child, watching them begin to excel under his gentle guidance. Giggling at Wooyoung hiding his tears at the end of year advancement ceremony when all his third graders became fourth graders every year, toothy smiles wide as they wave at him.

“I think being scared means you care. You can always call me if you’re worried, no matter what happens.”

“I’ll definitely take you up on that.” Mia laughs.

“You’re gonna be a great mom,” you whisper, squeezing her arm.

Mia squeezes your hand back. “I always wondered what it’d be like to have a sister.”

“Me too.”

You look away as Mia blinks, breathing away the wetness glossing your own eyes.

Upon returning home, you find all four men passed out in various positions in the living room. Mr. Jung in the recliner that predates your birth, mouth wide open and glasses crooked on his nose. Sprawled across the floor is Kyungmin, gangly teenage limbs starfished to the edges of the carpet. Wooyoung and Myungho share a blanket across their laps, both with their backs on opposite sides of the couch. 

You four try to contain your laughter at the sight. If there was any doubt about who fathered the Jung boys, the shaggy black hair and symphony of identical snores would easily lay those rumors to rest. 

Bibi shuffles down the hall to her room, claiming a nap to be a great idea after the pampering from the nail salon. Mia and Mrs. Jung head into the kitchen, each teetering with bulging bags of groceries for tonight's gingerbread competition.

But you can’t take your eyes off Wooyoung. The only time he ever looked so peaceful was when he was sleeping, face positively boyish and missing the stress induced wrinkles from managing a class of eight year olds. The urge to cross to him and kiss the freckle on his lower lip floods your brain, pull him upstairs to tangle your limbs between his and find sleep together. But you’re able to stuff it down when he whines in his sleep, twisting to re-adjust on the lumpy couch.

Following the shuffle of plastic bags echoing from the kitchen, you busy yourself with unpacking the boxes of pre-made gingerbread houses, candy, and tubes of icing. Neatly organizing the contents on the counter, Mrs. Jung pushes you and Mia upstairs as she starts to prepare dinner. The clock on the stove shows it’s closing in on three, giving you enough time to shower and have a nap of your own – alone – before the mayhem of the evening.

Cranking the faucet to the highest setting, you waste no time waiting for it to heat as you jump under the cold water. Wooyoung called you a psychopath the first time he witnessed your shower routine but you’d been busy applying for medical school, working in the student health center, and tutoring in the biology lab, all while maintaining a perfect GPA in the fall semester of your senior year; you didn’t have time for the simple pleasures of wasting precious minutes while your apartment’s old pipes struggled to carry hot water through the faucet. And as they say, old habits die hard.

The chill brings sharp clarity with it. It’d only been two days and you’d already fallen into the same bickering as before, been tempted to kiss him when no one was around to fool, and nearly propositioned him in his childhood bed. And again on the floor.

Three more days, you think.

Then you can leave this entire maddening ordeal behind you forever.

The squeeze of Wooyoung’s heart threatens to topple him to his knees at the sight of you curled up in his bed. His old college hoodie circles your face, lips pouted and eyebrows furrowed at whatever dream world keeps you occupied. 

Wooyoung aches to scoop you against his chest and litter kisses all over your face, fingers ironing out the wrinkles creasing your forehead. To smile at your whines of protest of being interrupted from a rare opportunity to rest without worrying about work or some other responsibility.

But what Wooyoung wants, he doesn’t deserve. As bold and indulgent as he might be in front of the prying eyes of his family, he isn’t cruel. This morning was a mistake. Even thinking about you the way he has is a mistake.

Even if it kills him not to touch you like he used to be able to, Wooyoung won’t subject you to the torture of his feelings. It’s the least he can do for pulling you into this sham after ending their relationship without explanation. 

“Y/N,” he whispers, fingers prodding your shoulder. “Gotta wake up.”

You respond with a throaty groan, pulling the edge of the blanket over your head to hide away.

“C’mon, it's almost time for dinner.” 

“Youngie, it’s cold,” you protest as he tries to lift the covers.

Grinding his teeth against the nickname, Wooyoung continues to pry the quilt from your iron grip. “I can get Bibi up here.”

Flying into a seated position, you blink against the overhead light. “I’m up!” 

“That’s what I thought.” Wooyoung smirks, crossing to the door. “Let’s go sunshine.”

You mutter empty threats the entire way to the kitchen, so close your cast in his shadow under the threat of Bibi’s wake up methods. Nothing like a woman pushing eighty banging pots over your head to get the blood pumping.

Everyone else already crowds the table, picking apart the trays of snacks as they organize their supplies kits. 

Jung family tradition requires everyone, sans Bibi, to decorate their own house according to the year's theme. After an hour, she picks her favorite and the winner has the honor of opening the first present on Christmas morning. You demolished Myungho’s long standing winning streak the first year Wooyoung brought you home; Mia claiming victory in your absence the year after. Since then, Kyungmin reigned supreme despite his creation looking like a haunted house no matter what the theme was.

“Alright.” Bibi stands once Wooyoung and Y/N have taken their seats at the end of the table. “This year's theme is movies. On your mark, get set. Go!”

A room full of adults, plus Kyungmin who's only a few months short, should act with a sense of decorum and dignity. A fair and clean competition in the name of holiday spirit, family, and comradery. But Jung house rules mean cheating is not only expected, it’s encouraged.

The table is warzone. Icing dripping off the sides and onto the tile floor. Candies trailing everywhere like shrapnel. Mia hides a piece of Myungho’s roof in her lap, and their mom steals the level their dad insists on using every year. Even Kyungmin slowly starts hoarding the bags of colorful royal frosting one by one in the pocket of his hoodie before anyone can notice.

Wooyoung catches you attempting to eat his bag of gumdrops in his periphery. They're half gone by the time he’s noticed but he simply laughs under his breath. What you don't know is that those are your gumdrops and his are stashed under the table.

The little sugar addict is nothing if not predictable.

Most of the houses are beginning to take shape, albeit much more loose definitions of whatever each person decided to do. Kyungmin’s house is poop green with a red roof, streaks of color patchy against the brown cookie sheets. His mom sticks with the traditional decorations instructed on the packaging, no doubt prepared to argue it somehow fits the theme despite being the same every year. Mia’s is laced garishly with pink and pastels, while Myungho crumbles pieces of his for whatever godforsaken reason.

Wooyoung focuses on decorating his tiny gingerbread man with black slashes and stripes.

“Time!” yells Bibi as she whacks the bottom of a pot with a wooden spoon, everyone drops their last piece of candy before hands fly up.

As always, his mom manages to be the only one to finish due to years of practice. Everyone else’s houses are… interesting, loose interpretations of houses.

“Mine’s the Grinch,” Kyungmin says.

“The Grinch?” you ask. The horrendous green and red abomination resembles nothing Wooyoung has ever seen before.

“See, you get it!” 

Shaking your head, you point at the monstrosity sitting in front of you. “Okay, so the yellow skittles are the yellow brick road and the green on the house is meant to look like the Emerald City from Wizard of Oz.”

Perhaps… if the Emerald City burned to the ground and became ruins but everyone nods at the vision.

“Mine is supposed to be Barbie's Dream house.” says Mia, gesturing to the mound of pink frosting sliding from the roof.

Myungho slams a toy dinosaur from their childhood on top of his pile of cookie pieces before declaring, “Jurassic Park.”

“Home Alone,” his mom chimes. A chorus of groans around the table answer. 

His dad’s is covered in chocolate bars and marshmallows. It looks decent but Wooyoung doesn’t get it until he tells them it’s Willy Wonka.

Nodding in appreciation, Wooyoung presents his. “Nightmare Before Christmas.”

The gray and black icing swirl to make a ugly blob, but Wooyoung will argue it’s exactly what he was going for. Especially with his miniscule Jack Skellington perched in the yard. Bibi circles the table, ooh-ing and ahh-ing at each entry. She shakes her head at Kyungmin, clearly disappointed in his failure this year. Doesn’t even pretend Wooyoung has a shot.

“Eunkyung wins!” She cheers, raising his mom’s hand like she won a boxing match. Claps and whoops fill the kitchen as she beams, proud to win a second time in the history of the competition dating back to his earliest memories.

“Wooyoung, put the winning house on the mantel please,” his dad asks, already moving towards the pantry for trash bags.

“Your majesty.” Wooyoung bows in front of his mom, laughing when she slaps his shoulder.

What he fails to realize is your leaving through the same door he is, and that a menacing sprig of green leaves sit just above in wait.

“Mistletoe!” his mom squeals.

“Huh?” you grunt.

Wooyoung looks up and spots the infuriating piece of decoration, another pair of eyes trailing after his own. 

If you were still dating, Wooyoung would swoop you into his arms and make an entire production of giving you a short peck on the cheek – his parents were watching after all – while you laughed at his ridiculousness. But now he hesitates as he looks into your eyes, barely missing the nod as you leave a brief kiss on his lips before turning and leaving the room.

Even under the passing contact, Wooyoung’s lips feel like they’ve been zapped with lightning; his entire body on high alert. So lost in his own world, Wooyoung doesn’t realize you’ve walked away until you’re turning a corner and are out of sight. 

Remembering the gingerbread house still in his hand, Wooyoung continues into the living room to place it front and center on the mantel like nothing happened.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid! you think, watching yourself in the mirror as you brush your teeth.

One stupid, G-rated kiss and you act like a bumbling teenager. Wooyoung’s morning wood was pressed against you twelve hours ago and you can’t handle a peck. 

What was wrong with you? 

It was like the butterflies of the beginning of your relationship were waking from dormancy, demanding to let loose in your chest. All those tightly stashed feelings you swore would never have a home in your heart settling back in like they never left. Honestly, they hadn’t. Six months was nothing compared to eight years together.

But none of this is real. Wooyoung only reached out so Bibi wouldn’t be upset over a last-minute cancellation. He didn’t ask to explain why he ended your relationship so suddenly. Didn’t try to weasel his way back in and kiss everything better. He didn’t give any answers to the questions you were dying to ask. All the touching and joking you’d missed so much were nothing more than an elaborate plan for Wooyoung to not be seen as the bad guy by his family. His way of delaying the inevitable. And you’d fallen right into the mess subconsciously hoping it might have meant something more. 

Toothpaste splashes against the porcelain sink as you finish washing up. Hiding in the bathroom can only buy you so much time before you have to face Wooyoung again, a new feast of tension waiting for you on a silver platter. He stayed quiet after the mistletoe. Not that you had much to say yourself.

When you return to his tiny room, it’s notably empty. Wooyoung nowhere to be seen as you burrow into the blankets alone. Hopefully, he stays away until you're fully unconscious and able to avoid the entire ordeal.

A draft of frigid air invading the warm haze under your mountain of quilts wakes you. Wooyoung shushes your indignant protest, pulling the top layers off. His weight doesn’t dip the bed behind you. Instead, you listen as he shuffles around, the dull thud of pillows and blankets hitting the floor. When he quiets, you turn to see him curled into a ball on a makeshift sleeping matt next to the bed. 

The questions burn on the tip of your tongue. Why is he sleeping on the floor? Was he that upset about the kiss? Or was it this morning? But you don’t ask and Wooyoung doesn’t provide an answer.

Christmas Eve is Wooyoung’s favorite part of the holidays. Not even a poor night's sleep on the freezing, unforgiving floor can dull his excitement. He woke early, sneaky out of the room the second the sun peaked from the horizon and illuminated the space while you slept soundly.

Part of the reason he slept on the floor is the knowledge that if he woke up with you pressed against him again, he’d agree to whatever you wanted from him. He was too selfish to say no a second time.

A fresh powder of snow fell sometime in the night. So, with a hot cup of coffee and a need to get lost in something mindlessly physical, Wooyoung heads to the garage for a shovel to clear the sidewalk and driveway.

Wooyoung knows he should apologize. You’d basically avoided him after the mistletoe, scurrying upstairs the second it was polite to do so. Technically, you kissed him. But the entire situation wouldn’t exist if he didn’t put his foot in his mouth. Plus, the entire ordeal of yesterday morning couldn’t be ignored. And Wooyoung was ashamed he didn’t feel ashamed about it.

Mind numb in the cold monotony of moving slush from the concrete to the yard, muscles burning at the strain, Wooyoung loses track of time as the sun moves across the sky. His dad finds him shoveling the end of the driveway, pants soaked and breath heaving. 

“You okay, kid?” the older man asks, sipping his thermos.

“Fine,” Wooyoung pants. “Why?”

“Because you’re out here.”

“Just helping out.”

“Wooyoung.” A sharp sternness to his tone as his dad’s gloved hands halt the shovel.

He hates that voice. Wooyoung’s dad was soft spoken and good natured, the quietest member of their boisterous family. Always gentle with three rowdy sons that constantly pushed the endless bounds of his patience. Wooyoung can count on one hand the times his dad used this voice on him. Apparently, now is one of those times.

Wooyoung looks his dad in the eye before lying to his face, “I’m fine. Really.”

Eying his son skeptically, Wooyoung’s dad clearly doesn’t believe him.  “Alright,” he drawls. “But come inside, your mom made pancakes.”

“Come on Kyungmin, we don’t want to be late!” Bibi calls from the hallway.

In front of you, Kyungmin blanches; terrified of another day surrounded by prodding grandmothers. He pleads you for help, but you can only offer a sympathetic smile and a shrug of shoulders. If only he knew how much torture you were being subjected to in the name of keeping Bibi happy.

Wooyoung had been scarce since the early hours of the morning, slaving away at clearing the driveway alone. He made a brief appearance at breakfast and lunch but found any excuse to stay faraway from whatever room you planted yourself in. 

Taking the hint, you set up camp in the kitchen. Laptop screen reflecting off your blue-light glasses as you skimmed another journal article about forced oscillation technique and impulse oscillometry. Fascinating as it was to you, it’s just boring enough to anyone else to keep them away; allowing you to waste away the entire afternoon in the most productive way possible.

The sun is already setting by the time others begin to trickle into the kitchen. Mia begins filling snack trays for the trademark movie night; half sweet, half savory. While Myungho sets to work on a batch of mulled cider they picked up at the market on the way home. The house is peaceful as everyone works in quiet content.

Until Kyungmin stomps into the kitchen with a fuming Bibi hot on his heels.

“They’re nice girls, Kyungmin. There was no need to be rude!”

Your wide eyes meet Mia's twin expressions of shock. Kyungmin was a sweet kid; he had an attitude sometimes, but he was a teenager. It’d be weird if he didn’t have one. But to hear he’s been out right rude, and in front of Bibi no less, comes as a surprise.

“You’re crazy!” Kyungmin yells, arms waving wildly before he flees to his room.

The sudden silence of the kitchen is rattling. No one moves or speaks as Bibi starts organizing random objects and mail on the counter, clearly uncomfortable with her grandson’s outburst.

Slipping from your chair, you turn to follow in the direction you know he’s bound for.

Winter in Colorado is brutal enough, but the wind slicing across your cheeks as you teeter out a tiny window onto the roof at the back of the house makes you regret wearing only a sweatshirt and matching sweatpants. 

Kyungmin’s lone figure is illuminated in the silver moonlight. A telltale stench fills your nostrils despite the thick smoke evaporating in the wind the second it leaves his mouth. Waddling towards him on your butt, you stop next to him. He passes the glass bowl into your waiting hand without a peep. 

You take a long hit before speaking, allowing the tingle of THC to flutter through your veins. It's been months since you let loose, too tired from the hospital. But in the quiet cold, the fuzziness bubbling in your veins is exactly what you need.

“Wanna talk about it?” You ask, cradling your knees to your chest in an effort to conserve warmth.

“No.”

“Okay.”

The thick woods fencing in the backyard bends in the wind. Pine trees shake the fronds like feathers, fluffing up as the wind flutters by. A lone swing, attached to a rickety playground set, swings back and forth. It’s beautiful and eerie. Only your breath and the occasional cough from Kyungmin disturbs the fragile place.

“I can’t wait to go to college,” Kyungmin mutters from under his hood.

“Have you heard from anywhere yet?”

He takes another hit, coughing twice before answering slowly. “No. But I don’t care where I go as long as I’m not here.”

“Was it that bad?”

“She’s crazy! All of them in that fucking church are insane!”

“Wooyoung told me the same thing,” you chuckle.

Wooyoung spent all his high school years and college breaks as Bibi’s helper; coincidentally meeting some long friend’s granddaughter each time. It all stopped when you came around. 

Kyungmin goes to light the bowl again and you snatch it from his hands, some big sister instinct taking over. He lets you and flops back into the snow covered roof. “They just stare at me. It’s creepy.” 

“Yeah, that sounds pretty creepy.”

“And Andi just laughs whenever I try to tell her about it.”

“Who’s Andi?”

“A friend.” Kyungmin’s tense response tells you Andi isn’t just a friend at all. He staunchly ignores your raised brow.

“What's she like?”

“She’s nice. She’s in my history class at school,” he admits. “And she got a scholarship to play soccer in Georgia.”

“That’s cool,” you nod. “So you like her?”

Kyungmin flounders for a second, caught red handed. “I mean, of course I do. She’s my best friend.”

If your eyes rolled any harder, they’d pop out of your skull and launch off the roof. “Kyungmin…”

“It doesn’t matter. She’s so out of my league,” he sighs.

He sounds a lot like Wooyoung. Back when you first started dating and he learned you were applying for med school, there was an air of unworthiness that rolled off him. Wooyoung never explicitly told you he felt that way about himself but he didn’t need to. 

“Why do you think that?”

“She’s smart, and she’s athletic, and she’s funny. She wouldn’t see me like that.”

“Okay.” You nod. “Well, when Bibi started pimping you out at church, what did Andi do?”

“She got really mad when I went on a date with one of them.”

“Oh, really?”

“She didn’t talk to me for like two weeks. I thought she was just, like, on her period or something.”

Shaking your head, you turn to face the ignorant boy. “Alright, first things first. Never, under any circumstances, assume a girl is mad at you because she’s on her period. Ask your brothers or your dad how that's worked out for them. Second, how would you feel if Andi went on a date with someone?”

Face twisting in disgust, Kyungmin grabs the piece again to take a hit. You let him this time.

“Exactly. Maybe you should ask her on a date.”

Kyungmin snorts at the idea, “Yeah, sure.”

“Party out here?” Myungho calls from the window.

Turning, you spot Wooyoung and Mia peaking around his broad shoulders. “Yeah, but it’s B.Y.O.W.”

“Perfect,” he responds, folding in half to climb out the window.

“Just think about what I said, okay?”

“Okay.” Kyungmin promises as he links his pinky with yours.

Mia and Myungho land on Kyungmin’s other side, a joint visible in Mia’s dainty fingers. Wooyoung plops down next to you, lifting the bowl from Kyungmin and dumping the ash on to the roof. 

As he focuses on packing it, you get your first glimpse of him all day. The tip of his nose is red and he keeps sniffling, no doubt from the hours he spent outside or in the garage doing who knows what, hair a mess of tangles, sticking this way and that in the wind and you choke on the urge to straighten it for him.  You’ve never been good at staying mad at him, even when he’s clearly in the wrong. And what’s worse is Wooyoung knows it. 

Wisps of smoke pour from his nostrils before he passes you the bowl again. Shaking your head, Kyungmin plucks it from his brother’s fingers.

Wooyoung’s breath caresses the shell of your ear before he speaks. “What are you guys doing out here?”

You resist the urge to shiver for an entirely new reason.“Bibi.”

Wooyoung nods lazily, eyes glazed already. Landing on his back, he looks up to the sky. 

The pale light sharpens his features. Strange how all three brothers looked so similar yet different. Kyungmin still had the round cheeks of adolescents, limbs gangly as he towers over his brothers at only seventeen. Myungho was broader than both but only a fraction taller than Wooyoung, square jaw and cropped hair. But Wooyoung was all angles and sharpness. Even from the first night he approached you in that dingy karaoke bar near campus, you knew he was handsome. But now he looks ethereal. Like some beautiful demon coming to take your soul and laugh all the while. 

Eventually you all end up shoulder to shoulder, each lost and thought and staring at the lonely full moon above. Wooyoung’s hand brushes your own, sending throbbing jolts of electricity through your body. One of your fingers slips around his, hooking them together briefly. Wooyoung doesn’t squeeze back but he doesn’t move away either.

It somehow hurts worse than if he would have let go.

Exhaustion and pot nearly knock Wooyoung out as he passes his bedroom door. An early night, lost in the land of dreams where he doesn’t have to think about why he can’t look you in the eye; why he felt a punch in the gut when he spotted you on the roof with his little brother, taking care of him like Kyungmin was your own family; how he wanted to cry when your fingers circled his own. 

Wooyoung’s attempt to uncomplicate his life only seemed to tighten the noose around his neck.

Jung family tradition dictates a Christmas movie with gross amounts of sugary snacks on Christmas Eve. The tradition started before Wooyoung could remember but it’d been his favorite all the same. What little kid didn’t cherish the opportunity to wake up to Santa dropping presents under the tree? Not that he or his brothers managed to stay awake more than half way through whatever movie his parents pulled from the dusty DVD collection on the bookshelf. But as he grew older, Wooyoung appreciated the uninterrupted time he was gifted to spend with his family, especially with each of them living in separate corners of the country.

The new set of matching pajamas every year were simply a bonus.

This year’s boast a deep green with a vintage Christmas light pattern. The inner flannel is positively delightful against Wooyoung’s freezing skin, lulling him into a light doze as leans against the couch between your spread legs. 

Kyungmin sprawls in his usual place on the rug in front of the coffee table, glazed eyes glued to Will Ferell terrorizing New York City in yellow tights. Mia and Myungho are off on the other side of the couch, Bibi taking the middle seat. His parents are snug in his dad’s recliner, resembling two teenagers rather than the fifty year olds they really are. Adorably disgusting how in love they still are. 

He doesn’t think twice about dropping a kiss against your knee until you stiffen. Idiot. Every time he swore he was going to be better, his body acted on autopilot. Falling into old habits and thoughts like they were second nature.

Resting his cheek against your thigh, Wooyoung twists his hands in his lap. He can’t touch you anymore. Not sober and absolutely not high out of his mind like he is at this very moment. Because if he starts, he’s too weak to stop himself. 

Considering the way you keep staring at him every time you think he isn’t looking, Wooyoung doesn’t think you would want him to stop either. 

Bedtime is the same awkward dance as before. His entire family pulls each other into tight hugs, mostly aided by the edibles Myungho slipped them before they all descended downstairs. Calls of “Love you,” and “see you in the morning,” land against his back as he trails behind you up the stairs. You both get ready in the dark, flashes of bare skin visible in the light trickling in from the cracked curtains covering the lonely window. Turning to face the wall, Wooyoung plugs in his phone while he listens for you to land on the mattress.

When the shuffling ceases, he finds you in a nest of pillows and blankets on the floor, back towards him.

“What are you doing?”

“You took the floor last night,” you explain.

“You don’t hav–”

“Just go to bed.”

“You’re not sleeping on the floor,” he huffs, temper rising as he crosses to the other side of the mattress.

“I’m fine.” 

“Just take the bed.”

“No,” you protest.

“Why not?”

Sitting up, Wooyoung barely makes out your scowl. “Why do I need to explain everything to you?”

“Why are you being so stubborn?”

“I’m stubborn? Me?”

“Considering you’re the one on the floor while the bed is empty, yes, you’re the stubborn one.”

“Because I’m fine here!”

Wooyoung wades through the quicksand of his brain for a response. Upon finding none, he flops on the pile of blankets next to you.

“What are you doing?”

“Sleeping. Now, shut up.”

No more energy to fight, Wooyoung burrows deeper into the mound of quilts; set to sleep on the floor if you continue to refuse the bed. If he was a diva on poor sleep, you were a menace. You’d cave eventually when your hips ached from the painful stiffness of the unbending wood.

Except Wooyoung can’t sleep. All of his nerves are heightened next to you. His entire left side burns in your heat, acutely aware of every shift of weight or rustle of the blankets. Wooyoung’s lips still burn from the kiss. A childish brush against his mouth but he can’t stop replaying it in his mind over and over. And when he thinks about yesterday morning, when he dreamed about her and then woke up flushed against her, when he jacked off to old memories and then ending up tangled with you half naked on the same floor he now laid, it all makes his blood rush to his head and a weight settles on the back of his tongue.

It’s freezing. That’s the excuse he tells himself as to why you snuggle closer, leg splayed across his hip and face buried in his neck. It’s reflex, is what he tells himself when he presses his lips to your hairline and you grab a fistful of his shirt.

He doesn’t have an explanation when you slide over him, taking a seat in his lap. He doesn’t need an explanation either once you kiss him, closed mouth and gentle. Wooyoung quietly accepts every touch you bestow. Hands strictly at his sides, he refuses to initiate anything more. It’s all up to you. He wants to give you whatever you want without even considering himself.

His brain floods with a fuzzy feeling as your fingers itch up his chest. Under his shirt, you sluggishly trace the lines of his stomach. There is only one way this ends because he cannot let you touch him any more or he’ll ruin everything. 

“Wooyoung?” you ask, nose to nose when he pulls your hands out of his clothing and holds them between your bodies.

Twisting until you lay side by side, Wooyoung lets himself be a little more selfish as he gently sucks your bottom lip between his own. He finds the strength to pull away when you deepen it. He won’t be selfish. 

You both fall asleep with tangled limbs, Wooyoung’s nose buried in your hair and your lips against his neck.

Christmas morning brings Bibi through the upstairs hallway with a familiar wooden spoon and small tin pot. You hear the first crash slice through the door, an ice bath to your system.

You’re still curled tightly against Wooyoung’s chest. 

On the floor.

“Get up,” Wooyoung shakes you, not wasting a second as he stands to dive into the still made bed.

You groan in the morning light, burrowing back down into the still warm pillow.

Another shrill beat sings through the hall, much closer to Wooyoung’s door than last time.

“Shit!” 

You tackle him into the mattress, forehead to chin and an elbow in his stomach. Attempting to look natural as the door rebounds against the wall, a well rested Bibi stands in the doorway.

“RISE AND SHINE!” his grandmother wails, drumming a rhythmless beat and she turns to stalk towards Kyungmin’s room at the end of the hall.

Your position against his body, legs bent awkwardly, covers lopsided, only last as long as Bibi is there to witness. You stumble over the memories that remind you too much of the time she waltzed in two Christmases ago, you and Wooyoung scrambling to hide exactly what was happening beneath the sheets.

Now, the only thing you’re rushing to make it look like that was exactly what you were doing. The smallest trickle of relief slips in at the fact he brushed you off last night. The consequences of trying to hook up with your pretend boyfriend are clearer in the harsh daylight. 

You rise and stalk to the bathroom without looking back, a handful of clothes in tow to avoid the same debacle as yesterday.

You feel a little pathetic settling for meaningless touches. All you want is to pretend a little harder, let your mind believe Wooyoung still loves you, still wants you. Not just to avoid awkwardness with his family but because he knew he made a mistake and just needed the courage to admit it. 

That wasn’t going to happen. He was content with his choices, so you have to be too. 

Wooyoung is already downstairs when you descend the stairs. There's a mug waiting for you on the coffee table, perfectly sweet and milky. It doesn’t mean anything.

Mrs. Jung’s victory grants her the privilege of opening the first present this morning. Everyone gathers around, matching states of messy hair and bed-wraggled pajamas, to shred shiny wrapping paper at ten in the morning.

Her first gift is the large rectangle box addressed from her sons, all of them failing to stifle their matching laughter as she slowly unwraps the picture frame. You and Mia had helped arrange the picture last time everyone was together for Bibi’s birthday, sneaking out of the house with the excuse of seeing a movie when you drove to the mall for an old school photoshoot at the department store. 

Wooyoung’s parents join in the giggling bouncing of the walls as they take in all three boys dressed head to toe in denim, arms wrapped around on another’s waists prom-date style as they stare dead faced at the camera. The cherry on top is their matching bowl cuts, making them resemble a nineties boy band. Another frame slips out of the paper, a similar photo of you and Mia except her chin rests on top of your head, eyes obscured by yellow tinted sunglasses.

“Oh my god,” Mrs. Jung guffaws. “You all are ridiculous.”

Passing the frames around the room, Mrs. Jung takes turns hugging her sons along with you and Mia. 

“Oh, my girls. Thank you for putting up with them,” she whispers into your ears, Mia on her left and you on her right. 

You refuse to think about how tomorrow you’ll leave their house for the last time as you squeeze her back tightly. 

As the youngest, Kyungmin is charged with passing out rounds of presents while Mr. Jung collects the discarded ribbons and paper. Thankfully, bringing a gift for Wooyoung wasn’t an expectation. Why sacrifice sacred luggage space to exchange gifts with someone who lives in your backyard? Mia and Myungho never brought their gifts for one another, and you and Wooyoung followed suit.

But that didn’t stop you from braving the horrors of Midtown in an effort to last minute Christmas shopping before flying out. Bibi loves the fancy lotion you brought her, and Kyungmin is more than satisfied with the promise of whatever new video he can afford with a Playstation gift card. Wooyoung’s parents leaf through the books you bought in a last ditch effort to provide some sort of parting gift. Myungho screams as he unwraps the mug with “IBS: I be shitting” blasted across the front and Mia opens each tin of specialty tea for a whiff of the herbal scents.

Hours later, surrounded in the disarray of boxes and bows, Mrs. Jung announces it’s time for brunch. Everyone takes turns washing up or teetering upstairs to brush their teeth but she pulls you aside before you have a chance to follow.

“Y/N, we have one last gift for you,” she says, removing a small box from behind her back. “I didn’t want to give it to you in front of everyone just in case but I want you to know how much we all love you.”

You pull out a cardboard box and a thick card.

“To my future Daughter in Law,

There isn’t a single day I don’t thank the stars for how lucky my son is to find someone as incredible as you. He’s a better person because of you and our family is so blessed to have you in it. I was lucky enough to be given three amazing sons but now I’m fortunate enough to have two daughters as well. 

Love, Mrs. Jung”

Each word is a new punch to the gut, tears swelling in the corner of tight eyes. Focusing on opening the box in an effort not to break down in the hallway, you unveil a simple silver chain with a knotted pendant. The same you’ve seen Mia and Mrs. Jung wear on special occasions.

“I can’t—”

“Nope. I won’t hear a word of it! It’s family tradition. Bibi gave me mine, and now I get to give you yours.”

“No, I really—”

But Wooyoung’s mom is a force to be reckoned with. Removing the delicate piece of jewelry out of the box, she slips it around your neck and straightens it before you can stop her. When she’s happy, you fall into her arms in a fierce hug as you weep into her shoulder.

“Oh sweetie,” she coos, clearly thinking you're overcome with emotion at officially being a part of the family.

You don’t correct her. Why ruin such a heartfelt moment by shattering the illusion now that you're so close to the end? Instead, you take comfort in her embrace, willing the tears to stop with the same principle you use in the hospital: save the crying for the shower.

Stepping out of the hug, you allow her to wipe away the trails of tears staining your cheeks with gentle swipes of her thumbs, a soft smile at her tutting over you. Mrs. Jung pulls you into one last bear hug before pushing you upstairs to compose yourself. Wooyoung stares as you pass him on the stairs, evidently alarmed at the evidence of your crying. But you keep your eyes down as you trudge by. 

Wooyoung can’t help but worry at what happened between presents and breakfast to make you so upset but his mom keeps squeezing your shoulder and Bibi just smiles knowingly in your direction. The new necklace circling your neck is familiar but Wooyoung can’t place why and he hasn’t had the opportunity to ask. 

Maybe it had nothing to do with the necklace. Maybe it’s because you’re finally free of this entire ordeal tomorrow and never have to see him again.

Crowding into the living room as the sun sets, he doesn’t miss the way Mia intertwines you into a fierce squeeze, practically bouncing off the walls with giddiness. He doesn’t have time to ask what it’s about before another movie is starting on the TV to wind down for the evening.

He can feel the tension rolling off you in waves. Muscles locked and leg jittering the same way it did before taking your MCAT or opening exam results. When the screen fades to black, you bolt up the stairs and out of sit before he can blink.

Following, Wooyoung finds you perched on the edge of his bed, fingers stroking the pendant resting between your collarbones. Shut in the quiet of his room, Wooyoung asks the question that’s buzzed in his head all day.

“What’s the necklace about?”

“Your mom gave it to me.”

“I thought so.” He nods. “But why was everyone acting weird about it?”

Rather than answer, you hand him a note. Wooyoung recognizes the tight cursive of his mom’s handwriting. Regret trickles down his spine and bubbles over with each word. He’d never meant to be cruel when he asked you to come here but then again he didn’t think about how hard this must have been. To secretly say goodbye to his family and the relationship you had with each of them after already working through it on your own. He should have known you bottled it all up, the same way he was prone to.

“I didn’t realize she’d—”

“Why did you break up with me?” you ask, still staring at the floor.

Regret transforms into the shame that’s eaten him alive for months. Wooyoung’s mouth won’t form the truth for what he did so he lies.

“I don’t know.”

“Bullshit!” you bite, glazed eyes blazing as you rounds on him. “Eight years. We dated for eight years and you think you can tell me you don’t know why?”

“We dated for eight years and you didn’t even say anything when I did it! You just left.”

“Oh, I’m sorry! What was I supposed to do? Beg you to stay?”

“You just gave up.”

“No, you gave up!” your voice cracks, finger pointing accusingly. “I didn’t even know we were having problems.”

“Boston was always a problem!”

“Which I was already planning to fix.”

Wooyoung recoils from the invisible smack against his face. “What?”

“That night I was trying to tell you I got a job in the city. That I was moving back.”

“You’re joking.”

Shoulder sagging under the weight of the mess, you fall back onto the bed. “It was gonna be my last weekend trip down.”

Sniffles and desperate breaths fill the space. He can’t breathe. He can’t think. 

“I was planning to propose.” He can see your head turn in his peripheral, but he’ll lose the gaul if he has to look you in the eyes and admit he’s a coward, so Wooyoung stares at the wall ahead. “I had the ring for a year. And I was gonna ask you but I…” he trails off.

“You what?”

It’s painful to swallow the knot of embarrassment in his throat but you deserve the truth. He owes you a lot more but all he can do is give you an explanation for why he blew up both your lives. “I got scared.”

“Of me?”

“Of everything,” he admits. The crushing weight resting on his shoulders lightens a little at the confession. It feels good. So he keeps talking. “I thought of how much we’d have to change, and I didn’t want you to feel like you had to give anything up to be with me.”

“Wooyoung, I never felt like that,” you objects, cupping his face and forcing him to look at you; at the tears he’s responsible for. “I hated Boston. Do you think I was moving back to the city for you?”

“Kind of, I—”

“I have my own life there. I lived there for seven years! I was always planning to move back,” you say quickly. “Why do you think you get to make decisions about my life like you know better than I do?”

Panic sets in. “Then why were you being so secretive about it?”

“I wanted it to be a surprise. I knew you’d been stressed about something but you never wanted to talk about it so I didn’t want to add something else to your plate and… because I was worried if I brought it up too soon something would go wrong.”

An awkward silence unfurls, so thick he could choke on it.

“I still have it by the way,” he finally says.

Surprise flashes across your face as you stare at him. “Have what?”

“The ring.”

You blink through fresh tears and something in him breaks. Cracks into a thousand pieces he’s forced to hold together because this is all his fault. “Why?”

“I think…” Wooyoung sniffs back his own cries. “I think some part of me feels like if I let it go then it’s really over.”

“Are you trying to tell me you want to get back together?”

“I didn’t want to break up to begin with.”

“Then why’d you do it?”

“Because I’m not good enough for you! I’ve never been good enough and I know you say it's not true but it is. I’m a public school teacher with shit pay and an apartment I can barely afford. That’s all I can offer you and it isn’t close enough to what you deserve.”

“Do you think I’m that shallow?” You fume, clearly not understanding what Wooyoung meant. “Why do you think you get to decide what's good enough for me?”

“Because someone has too! One day you’re gonna wake up and realize you can have anyone you want.”

“Not anyone.”

The suffocating atmosphere of Wooyoung’s room pushes you into the chilly shower stall. In the steam and perfumed bubbles, you quietly let all the emotions of the day run wild; eyes puffy, face swollen, and snot dripping from your nose to be washed away by the boiling streams of water. You hide for as long as possible, shivering as the heated water runs out and frigid ropes blast your skin. Unable to endure anymore of the stinging icicles, you exit the stall red nosed and blue lipped. 

Wooyoung sits on the edge of the bed with his back to the door. You watch his shoulder tense, rising closer to his ears as you pad closer to lay down. 

You’re too tired to sleep on the floor, too exhausted to fight with him again. So you curl under the covers, body sliding back when Wooyoung joins you. 

“I’m sorry.” he whispers, tracing his index finger along the knobs of your spine, attempting to comfort you the same way he always had.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Okay.”

You both stay there in the silent darkness, their breaths and the hum of the heater keeping absolute stillness at bay. The tears you split in the shower followed you to the pillow, running down your cheeks as you try to keep the worst at bay. Wooyoung doesn’t stop tracing shapes between your shoulder blades, the worn cotton of your sleep shirt rubbing against your heated skin. How is the source of your distress the same as the source of your comfort?

Turning to face him, you realize how close he’s moved. Scant inches separate your chests, the heat of his legs licking your own bare ones under the blankets. You spot his own tears, eyes swollen and red, thick lashes clumped together as they fall.

If your love for Wooyoung was an ocean, you’d be lost at sea for years. 

He watches you watch him, hands finding one anothers and tangling together. When Wooyoung opens his mouth, pausing as a sniffle breaks free, you surge up to connect your lips.

Startling for only a second, he eagerly kisses you back. Tears and spit gloss your lips as you dip your tongue into his mouth, licking against his teeth before retreating to bruise his lower lip with your own. Wooyoung manages to roll on top of you, pinning you to the mattress as if you plan to up and leave at any second. You respond by crushing your lips together a fraction harder, attempting to communicate the longing and hurt words can’t convey.

The hem of his shirt finds its way between your fingers, moving further up his stomach with each insistent tug. Wooyoung’s own hands busy themselves, one buried in the hairs at the base of your scalp, cradling your head to move you this way and that as he continues exploring your mouth. The other wrinkles the pillow case beside you, muscles rippling as he holds himself over you. 

When you wiggle your hips, thighs spreading to cradle him between, he dives to your neck. Blood rushes to the surface as he nips and bruises the delicate skin below your jaw, scorching pants raising goosebumps in its wake. He shudders when your nails scratch down his abdomen, thumb dipping under the band of his pajama pants.

It's been nearly eight months without this. Two months before your breakup, in this very bed while the rest of the house was asleep as Wooyoung laughed into your neck while you drunkenly whined for him to touch you. As familiar as those memories are, this time is entirely new. 

Wooyoung’s thumb, knowing and skilled, brushes across one of your nipples over your shirt, using the rough fabric to his advantage; stiffing it to a tight peak before allowing the weight to settle in his palm. Arching your back, you remove the piece of cloth separating you. Wooyoung barely allows you space to slough it over your head before he’s back on you, latching to the side of your neglected breast as he curls his hips into yours coursley. Your body reacts on nothing but instinct; back arching closer, thighs spreading wider as his knees carry him further down the mattress.

Reverent caresses of his hands lead him to the apex of your thighs, his breath fanning the damp patch of your shorts just before Wooyoung tucks his thumbs into the elastic to nudge them down, breathing deeply as he bares you for his eyes.

A tentative lick up length of your slit pulls a pathetic whimper from the back of your mouth. The flat of his tongue lave against your engorged clit, slow and torturous as Wooyoung indulges in your taste. Rough palms slide beneath the meat of your thighs, lifting your legs to rest on his shoulders. A harsh suck against the bundle of nerves locks your muscles tightly around Wooyoung’s head but he takes it in stride as he drops a hand to slip his fingers inside your clenching hole. Curling the pads of his digits upwards, you feel him in your throat as you bite back moans. Your fingers twist in Wooyoung’s inky hair at the delicious torture, hips rocking into his eager mouth as he pants against you; refusing to separate from your drenched center. 

When his unoccupied hand slips into your own, a death grip on your entertwined fingers, you fall apart. Your chapped lips nearly bleed from effort to remain quiet, writhing in Wooyoung’s hold as he continues to lap up everything you offer him.

A final suck against your clit has you scrambling to pull his mouth to your own, tasting yourself on his soaked cheeks and tongue.

“Please,” you whisper into his mouth.

Wooyoung responds by kissing you gently, the passion curling your toes while he fists his length before allowing the flared head to nudge your entrance.

Finally presses forward, fitting inside you as he always has, another tear burns down to your face. It all comes rushing forward, never ending waves rolling over you after you’ve been knocked down into the surf. Memories, good and bad, race through you at a breakneck speed. The tingling elation of the night Wooyoung asked you to be his girlfriend, the nerves of when you asked him to move in together during medical school. Sadness when you moved away for residency with the promise to come back. The numbing despair you felt the night you thought would be a turning point in your lives. The straw that breaks the camel's back is Wooyoung's admission that you’re too good for him. Choking your own pain down, you try to hone in on a spot on the ceiling in an effort to stay grounded.

Several seconds pass before Wooyoung notices the fresh bout of sobs, mistaking choked whimpers as whines of pleasure after such a long time apart. His nose traces the tendon of your neck as he cants his hips slowly, one hand still tangled in yours, the other pressing your knee up and around his waist to stretch deeper. When the dig of your nails into his shoulder turns from a sting to a cut, he leans back and realizes his mistake.

Eyes find one another through the distorted haze your sorrows create, his rounded with concern still glazed with evidence of his own tears. Staring at one another in a silence broken by sniffling and staccato breaths, a second set of tears mix with your own as he rests his forehead against yours. Locking your arms around Wooyoung’s broad shoulders and hooking your knees around his back, you try to seal him into your skin. 

“I’m sorry.” he whispers, voice broken and cracked. “I’m so sorry. I–” he hiccups. “I didn’t–”

What he’s apologizing for is a mystery. Forcing you into this charade? Telling you he was planning to propose? Breaking up with you in the first place? 

Perhaps it's all those things. Maybe it's none of them. Maybe it’s for some other secret he’s convinced himself to hide from you because he isn’t good enough; because he doesn’t trust you enough.

“I love you.” He whimpers into your hair, lips branding the words into your skin. It’s not enough. But for tonight, you’ll let it be.

“I love you, too.” you whisper back, straining to brush the tip of your nose against his own.

Tomorrow, you’ll fly back to the city and hide in your apartment and pretend to be okay. Dive so far into your work that you forget the way Wooyoung has ripped the healing wound on your heart open again.

Tonight, you’ll pretend the missing piece has finally been found and can stay forever.

Tensing your thighs, your locked ankles nudge at the dip of his spine to remind Wooyoung he’s still inside you. He hesitates for a moment but your lips silence his objections, just as eager to indulge in the fantasy as you are.

The pace is bruising, stomachs firmly pressed together as he reaches for the top of the bed frame to provide more leverage. Wooyoung’s back ripples and flexes as he pounds into you, the vibration of his weak moans tickling the sensitive pads of your fingers as they etch down his ribs.

Consumed by an overwhelming need to touch him everywhere, you cradle his face between your palms. Wooyoung flashes his eyes open, as if startled you’re still there, before leaning into one of them. Thumb tracing his lips, he drops a searing kiss to the crease of your knuckle. The tenderness burns the remaining oxygen out of the room.

His next word is so quiet your ears fail to detect them over the gentle slap of your bodies connecting or the squeak of the old bed frame. But Wooyoung’s said them against your skin enough times over the years for you to know the feel of his mouth forming around the sound.

You come with a muted whimper. So worn from tears, pleasure fizzles in your veins like the gentle ripple of the wind across a lake. Wooyoung marvels and shakes above you, swiping at the dampness on your cheeks before kissing them away with a hitch in his breath. But he is truly done for when you lean up and whisper his words back into his ear.

Wooyoung wakes to an empty bed, cold sheets, and the pillowcase squishing his cheek already damp from the tears he shed while sleeping.

A tedious drive to the airport grants Wooyoung ample time to stew in discontent, replaying the events of the past week over and over in his head.

Was he insane to think you wanted him too? All the moments he nearly forgot you two were barely more than strangers after months of silence, how every part of him still fit together so perfectly with you. Wooyoung knew he’d been a mess after the break up but the past week made him realize how lost he felt without you. Like the ocean without the moon to guide the tide; like he was missing half his heart. How many times had he opened his messages to text you something mundane from his day, just to close them and realize he’d ruined the best thing in his life in a second of weakness? And now having you next to him again, knowing he can’t fix what he did?

His mom turns off the radio. “When were you planning to tell us you two broke up?”

“Huh?”

“Wooyoung,” she sighs. “I know.”

“How… she told you?”

“Poor thing was crying the entire way to the airport. I told her I wouldn’t let her fly by herself if she was that upset until she explained.”

“What’d she say?”

“That you two broke up a few months ago but you didn’t want to disappoint us.”

“Did she say anything else?”

“You know Y/N, always keeps her cards close to her chest.” His mom looks at him from the corner of her eye. “Do you want to tell me about it?”

“I made a mistake.”

“If you two weren’t happy then it wasn’t a mistake. Sometimes two people don’t fit together and it isn’t because you don’t love them.”

“But we were happy! She’s the one and I messed it up because I’m not good enough for her.”

“Where is that coming from?”

“I know you and dad wanted me to be an engineer like Myungho, okay? Even Kyungmin wants to be a lawyer! I’m the family disappointment. It only makes sense I’d disappoint her eventually.”

Wooyoung’s mom is notorious for going under the speed limit, waiting to turn even if the oncoming car is five hundred feet away, using her blinker religiously. Which is why Wooyoung thinks she’s having a seizure when she veers off the road and onto the shoulder like an F1 driver.

Throwing the car in park she levels him with a look so stern he feels like he’s a kid getting scolded again. “You are not a disappointment! To me or your father or anyone. You are my son, and I have always been proud of that. I’ve seen you teaching, the way those kids look up to you. You’re doing exactly what you were meant to. And if my worrying has made you feel that way then I am so sorry. All we’ve ever wanted is for you to be happy.”

Crossing his arms, Wooyoung flicks away the beads of moisture tracing down his chin. “You’re my mom, you have to say that.”

“I’m not Y/N’s mom but I talk about her the same way.” Another comparison where he doesn’t measure up no matter how you look at it.

“Yeah, well she’s a doctor, saving kids lives and all that.”

“You don’t think you do the same thing? Those kids come to school excited to learn because of you. Just because you’re not finding a cure for cancer doesn’t mean your job isn’t important. And Y/N isn’t disappointed with you either. She loves you, Wooyoung. Why don’t you let her decide what she wants?”

“Yeah, well I think it’s too late for that,” Wooyoung mumbles, eyes on the toes of his shoes.

“Maybe you should ask her if she thinks so.”

Rather than give into his impatience, Wooyoung stews on his mom’s advice. Each passing hour conveniences him more and more she’s wrong. Especially when San and Yeosang sit with him in their cramped living room, bottles of beer and empty takeout littering the coffee table.

“You’re pathetic,” Yeosang says.

“Fuck you,” Wooyoung responds. There’s no bite in it. He doesn’t disagree, he’s told himself the same thing over and over again.

San, red faced and tipsy, slaps the leather armrests of the chair before rising.“Fuck you! You broke up with her over nothing and instead of trying to get her back you have a fucking pity party? Grow a pair.”

“She doesn’t want me!”

“Did you ask her?” 

“I don’t have to!”

“You’re an idiot,” Yeosang butts in.

Wooyoung knows his hesitation speaks for itself when Yoesang keeps talking.

“You can ask her to pretend you’re still dating but you can’t tell her you wanna get back together?”

“It’s not that easy!”

“Yes it is!” San argues. “You love her right? You care about her?” San doesn’t continue until Wooyoung nods. “Then she has a right to know.”

“What if she says no?”

“Then she says no. Cross that bridge when you get there. You’re already broken up, how much worse can it get?”

Surprisingly, Wooyoung agrees. He sits forward, looking at his roommates before asking. “So what do I do?”

When Wooyoung’s messages go unanswered and his calls fall into the abyss of your full voicemail box, pulls out Plan B. Unfortunately, Plan B has no moral or ethical oppositions to castrating him.

Lisa doesn’t even let him speak. “Go fuck yourself!”

“Lisa, please!” Wooyoung begs into the phone.

“No! Not once but twice I’ve had Y/N crying on my couch because of your dumbass. I’m not letting it happen again!”

“I need to talk to her. Please just help me!”

“What makes this time so different?”

“I—,” Wooyoung freezes. What does make this time different? Could he promise he’d never let whatever tiny trickle of self doubt plague his brain wouldn’t flare up again? No. He can’t.

He hears Lisa sigh on the other end of the phone, almost as if she’s disappointed. “Just leave her alone, Wooyoung.”

The line clicks dead.

Walking back into the kitchen from the worst call of his life, Wooyoung spots San’s downcast face while Yeosang watches him from the table; both clearly overhearing his exchange with your best friend. The vinyl tabletop shakes as Wooyoung drops his forehead down with a bang, groaning in frustration. 

“She’s working at New York-Presbyterian.” Yeosang mentions, returning to munch on his bowl of cereal.

“What?”

Yeosang chews his next bite thoughtfully, like he isn’t sure he wants to share the information a second time. Wooyoung almost believes he hallucinated his friend speaking at all until Yeosang repeats himself.

“Y/N works at New York-Presbyterian.”

“How do you know that?”

Shrugging, Yeosang takes another bite and swallows before explaining. “She told me she got a job there when she was planning to move back.” 

Wooyoung has Yeosang’s shirt in his hands in a flash, nose to nose with his lifelong friend. Never in his life has Wooyoung been so furious with the man before him. He wants to kick his ass.

“You knew this whole time?” He bites, his eyes so wide with anger the whites show.

San is at Wooyoung's back, winding his arms around his shoulders in an attempt to pull him off their other roommate.

“You knew all of this and you didn’t fucking tell me? You’re my friend!” Attempting to shake San off, Wooyoung keeps pressing forward. 

Yeosang rises to his feet, hands wrapping around Wooyoung’s wrists and squeezing till the pain forces him to let go. “Yeah, and you’re acting like a real asshole right now!”

“Guys calm down!” San yells, managing to pull Wooyoung back now that he’s no longer attached to Yeosang’s shirt.

“Why didn't you say something?”

“You ended an eight-year relationship out of the blue, I wasn’t about to let you get back with her just because you decided being single wasn’t your thing anymore.”

The words slap Wooyoung in the face. Even his own friends don’t trust him not to hurt you anymore. “I’m not— I wouldn’t…”

“Come on, Woo. All you could talk about was how excited you were to ask her to marry you and then you come home and tell us you broke up with her. She’s my friend too and I don’t want to see her hurt.”

“So why are you telling me now?”

“Because you were desperate enough to call Lisa. If you fuck up again she’ll actually kill you.”

“And we’ll help,” San adds.

Wooyoung isn’t going to mess up again, not if he can help it. And if he does, he’ll walk straight into the river before anyone can force him. But for now, he focuses on getting you to listen to his apology.

Chief complaint: Father reports patient’s fever and cough have become more severe since previous visit. Reports child is refusing solids but drinking well and taking soft foods such as apple sauce. Sleeping okay.

One of the residents pops her head into your office, “Dr. Y/L/N you have a delivery at the reception desk.”

“Thank you!” you call, not missing a beat as you continue your notes. 

Plan: Amoxicillin prescribed, five day follow up with p.r.n. at PCP.

Finishing your chart, you rise and head out towards the receptionist desk. A familiar bouquet of blush pink tulips greet you, a silk white ribbon knotted around the dip of the crystal vase. A small envelope is tucked into the spread, sending a terrified jolt through your system.

“I wish I had someone send me flowers as pretty as this!” Jessica sighs, eying the arrangement enviously.

“Yeah,” you laugh, unable to muster an ounce of false humor. You snatch the bouquet before turning back the direction you came. 

Once back into the safety of your office, door shut and blinds drawn, you open the note.

If you don’t want to see me ever again, I’ll let you go. But I can't say enough how every time I ever put my arms around you I felt that I was home. I’ll be waiting at our spot on Saturday. As long as it takes. – W

You don’t realize you’re crying until the ink of the note begins to bleed. 

Wooyoung is the first customer to enter the cozy coffee shop overlooking the southeast entrance of Tompkins Square Park at nine a.m., claiming the tiny wobbly table off in the corner that provides the perfect view of the door. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands. It feels wrong to scroll through his phone as he waits so he snags one of the artsy newspapers sitting on the counter while the surly barista prepares his order.

After an hour, adrenalin maintains the pleasant buzz through Wooyoung’s system, fueled further by espresso on an empty stomach and jittering nerves. Each chime of the bell over the door results in awkward eye contact with a stranger that certainly isn’t his ex-girlfriend. Unless you shrunk, or grew two feet, or suddenly had a beard.

After three hours, his butt is numb and Wooyoung’s abandoned the newspaper he’s nearly memorized. The Times mini crossword archive isn’t as extensive as he thought.

After six hours, he’s had enough coffee to power a jet plane and his leg twitches aggressively beneath the table. He’s started people watching through the window, making up stories for passersby entering the park and crossing the street. Half his heart hopes they’re happier than he is, the other half hopes he’s not alone in his misery.

When he’s been at the shop for eleven and a half hours, burned through every source of distraction possible and can describe in vivid detail the features outside the glass wall that separate the inside of the cafe from the sidewalk, Wooyoung accepts that you aren’t coming.

He stays till close, every minute that ticks on a drop in the bucket of regret in his heart. The barista starts stacking chairs, passive aggressively swiping the frayed broom in a ring around his table, so Wooyoung does the sensible thing and waits outside. 

The bitter wind wafting through the city finds home in his bones despite his thermals and padded parka. Wooyoung desperately clings to the last tiny drop of hope. Shaking from the chill and overindulgence in caffeine he watches as the clock hits nine. 

You aren’t coming.

You don’t want him back.

And he has to accept that it’s his fault.

Wooyoung watches a couple laugh in each other's embrace across the street, clambering over one another in amused content. There was time that would have been you and him, high from the intoxicating joy of one another’s presence and the city lights in the winter. Fingers interlocked while trapezing through crowds, ignoring every other soul in favor of focusing on each other.

Eyes stinging, he turns to head for the train station but nearly shouts as spots the woman in question ten paces away.

Your hair is a mess, nose and cheeks blushing from the cold, breath obscuring your face as it fogs in the cool air. But you’re here, looking every bit unsure as he feels.

“Hi,” he says, dumbfounded.

“Hi.”

“You came.”

You nod. “I did.”

Wooyoung might faint. His heart is beating a mile a minute, breath shallow and labored. You’re here. You’re here and you’re looking at him like that. And the fear creeps into his pause.

“I’m sorry,” he warbles.

“I know.”

But you can’t so he says it again.

“I’m so sorry.”

“You keep saying that.”

Because he can’t think of anything else. Nine hours of going over the grand speech about how he missed you and how breaking up with you was the greatest regret of his life flies out the window now that you’re in front of him and willing to listen.

“Is that all you wanted to tell me?” you ask.

“No.”

“Then talk to me, Woo.”

The only thing you’ve ever asked him for is the truth. Wooyoung’s been so afraid that if he tells you how he truly feels, you’ll think less of him. That being so in love it terrifies you is disgusting, pathetic. 

“I don’t know where to start,” he admits, staring at the icy sidewalk covered in slush. 

“How long have you been here?”

“Since they opened.”

“Why?”

“Because if you came I didn’t want to miss you.”

“I almost didn’t.”

“Why did you?”

“Because—,” you pause, shaking your head. “I don’t know.”

“I had a whole speech prepared.”

You smile shyly. “Really?”  

“Yeah, but now that you’re here I don’t remember any of it.”

“Then just tell me the truth, Woo.”

“I’m an idiot.”

Laughing at his outburst, you nod at him. “That’s a start.” 

And the space between them grows a little warmer. Gives him the confidence he needs.

“That night at dinner, when I went to the bathroom, I got an email.” Wooyoung starts, stepping closer. “I’d applied for a grad school program and I thought I was gonna get in but … I didn’t. And I think that and the nerves from proposing just caught up to me. I thought you’d want to stay in Boston after all and I didn’t want you to feel like you had to move back here. And it snowballed and all those feelings of not being good enough came back and— When you didn’t say anything, didn’t ask why or try to argue with me I thought it meant it’s what you wanted too.”

Shame flushes through him, a tsunami of disgust for allowing himself to think so poorly of you. You never made him feel less than. The only person who thought he wasn’t good enough was himself and he let that destroy everything in a second of self doubt. 

“I tried to convince myself I did you a favor. That you’d be better off without me and you’d meet someone better. Find someone good enough for you. But I was wrong. I am wrong. There hasn't been a single day since we met that I don’t think about you. Even when I try not to, you’re always in the back of my mind. And then I think about how selfish I am for wanting you back. But when it comes to you I’ve always been a little selfish because I love you. And—” he breaths for the first time. “And I don’t know how to be me without you.”

The humor is gone from your face. Beautiful eyes brim with tears, rimmed red not unlike his own; chin shaking. The wind is louder than ever now, cars wheel sloshing across the wet pavement crashing between them.

“Please say something.”

“How do I trust you again?” Your voice cracks, and it knocks the air from Wooyoung’s lungs.

“I don’t know.” Wooyoung looks at the ground, guilt-ridden.

Everything, all of the pain and heartbreak, was his fault. He dug you into this mess and now he doesn’t know how to get out. 

Seeing Wooyoung, the man with an answer for everything, admit for once he doesn’t have an elaborate plan in motion to win you back is refreshing. You didn’t want Wooyoung who’d fix everything, Wooyoung who’d carry the burden of your relationship by himself even if it killed him. All you wanted was for him to tell you the truth.

And now that he has, you’re done being apart.

Nearly topping to the ground as you tackle Wooyoung in a fierce hug, you focus on inhaling his cologne and basking in the feel of his body pressed firmly against you. He barely manages to steady your combined weight, feet scrambling to regain his balance on the icy sidewalk.

“Don’t you ever do that shit to me again!” you yell, arms squeezing around his waist.

Wooyoung hesitates for a moment, clearly shocked at the turn of events. Rising out of his chest, you look at his gaping mouth and furrowed brows before his arms knot around your shoulders. 

“I missed you,” you whisper into his lips.

“I love you,” Wooyoung responds, forehead resting against your own.

“Forever?”

“Forever.”

Central Park in May is a bustle of people enjoying warm days following months of slushy snow and gray skies. Shrill screams bounce off the trees, children dart across the walkways, giggling groups of friends crowd around blankets on the dead grass, and a menagerie of dogs zigzag around their owners in the fresh air.

Today is a rare day where you and Wooyoung both can spend interrupted hours lounging in one another’s presence, eager to make up for years of long distances and the months neither of you like to talk about. Wooyoung woke you with innumerable kisses across any sliver of skin his lips could find. No different than all the other mornings spent together since January.

You tried to take things slow, ease back into the comfort of the relationship. But it’s Wooyoung. There’s no half measures, only the full rush of feelings that never went away. A few awkward weeks of dancing around one another, unsure how to fit back in when there’s so much history, but the dam broke the first night Wooyoung stayed at your apartment and woke you up with bagels and coffee in bed.

He stayed over almost every night since.

Sprawled across an old throw blanket, skin warming in the afternoon sunshine, a thick book obscures his face from view as your head rests in his lap. Wooyoung’s been fidgety all morning. You chalk it up to the first nice day following a freezing, rainy winter. Too much energy and finally a suitable outlet that isn’t people watching from your living room window.

You look up at him, his face visible just above the edge of the book pages hiding your smile. He’s already looking at you.

Plucking the book from your grasp, he carefully marks the page before setting it down on the blanket. Wooyoung folds in half to silence your protesting “hey!” with a kiss, humming as you give in all too easily. 

“I was reading that,” you mumble into his bottom lip. You tug his shirt, kiss him a little firmer before he leans back.

“Wow, you’d rather read some smutty book than kiss your real life boyfriend?”

Laughing, you press another peck to his mouth before answering, “Glad you understand.”

“What about your fiance?”

Your smile melts into shock, mouth gaping and staring at him like a deer in headlights. 

Fiance.

His fiancee…

Wooyoung smoothly maneuvers you up and out of his lap, pulling the jewelry box from his pocket as he kneels on a lone knee.

“Y/N. You’re my favorite person in the world. The only person I can ever imagine spending the rest of my life with. I love when you sing in the shower, and how you put way too much sugar in your coffee. I love how smart you are, and how you’re nice to everyone even if they don’t deserve it, me included. And how everytime I look at you my palms get sweaty and that just thinking about you makes my day better. You are the love of my life. Will you marry me?”

Wooyoung is shaking so violently he fumbles the velvet box twice during his speech but you hardly notice, shaking so hard yourself. He drops it a third time when you tackle him in a fierce hug, tear filled laughter spilling from your lips and into the field where they lay. 

“Yes!” you squeal into his neck, “Yes, I’d love to marry you.”

At dinner with all your friends, he holds your hand so the diamond glints at anyone looking. When Wooyoung walks you home, to the apartment that’s become his second home, giggly from champagne and love, he kisses your knuckles a ridiculous amount of times just to feel the cool band under his lips. Each time you chest squeezes like its the first. Once inside the doorway, Wooyoung crowds you against the door; his thumb focusing on the bevel of the diamond sitting on your ring finger as his other hand pushes the strap of the sundress off your shoulder so his tongue can etch your collarbone from dip of your throat where the locket he gave you for your first Christmas together rests to under your ear. 

“So, future Mrs. Jung, now that we’re alone, how would you like to celebrate?” he asks, nipping against the sensitive skin until you sigh, chest arching into his own.

“What if I wanna keep my last name?”

“Is that what you’re focusing on right now?” Wooyoung asks, a strong thigh moving between your parted legs.

“Yeah, future Mr. Y/L/N. I don’t think there’s anything else to discuss right n—fuck, Woo.”

Wooyoun can’t help but giggle at your reaction, rocking again just to hear you moan his name once more. 

“What were you saying?”

“Don’t,” you huff, whimpering at another torturous drag. Wooyoung can feel the heat of your cunt through your panties and his jeans. “Don’t be mean to your future wife.”

“Love when you talk dirty.” He bites against the strained muscle raising from the side of your neck.

“That turns you on? Calling me your wife?”

“Feel for yourself.”

You do feel it. Shifting in the tiny space he’s allotted, you feel him hot and hard against your stomach. You’re caught between wanting to savor every moment and ripping both your clothes off. 

“And if I call you my husband?”

Wooyoung doesn’t dignify your question with an answer other than tugging you towards the bedroom to demonstrate just how much he likes the new name.

You don’t make it that far. Between pulling at his clothes and tripping over your own, the hall floor becomes the alternative; Wooyoung’s lap your new perch. His teeth close around your nipple, timid until he’s not.

He keeps you like that for a while. Squirming in his lap until you're not naked enough with your dress pooled around your waist and bunched up your thighs. You whine and he switches to your neglected breast, tongue flitting teasingly. 

“Wooyoung,” you keen. 

The bastard laughs but makes no move to give you more. You’re at his mercy. The way he touches you makes you blush, still new and exciting after years but he treats you like the most interesting thing in the world; remembers even the most insignificant details that have you sweating.

You try to pull him off your chest but he ignores the desperate pleas; eager licks so good your hips kick against his crotch for some kind of relief. Fingers pinch at the abandoned one, keeping your back bent in a painful arc.

He bites a little too hard, shoves a hand between your legs and touches with raw force. You can’t think about anything. Hopped up on champagne and engagement bliss, your body rolls hot and wet against his fingers until you come with wrecked sounds.

Sagging against him, Wooyoung slows, lets you take a few weak breaths while he noses against your collarbone. He kisses the hollow of your throat, a simple brush of his lips that lingers deep in your veins.

“I think that might be a new record,” he quips. The fingers buried beneath your underwear pop into his mouth before he reaches back down with softer strokes, teasing all those worn nerves back to attention. You don’t care about anything other than the way he touches with brutal reverence. Worshiping your body the way that sets your soul on fire.

His body gives under gentle caresses, fingers cataloguing everything in meticulous detail. His hair, his neck, shoulders. The plains of his chest. How his stomach dips beneath your nails. You rub his cock through his pants before impatience takes over and you both work to shove them down his thighs.

You rock down, pulling at those short hairs at the nape of his neck with just enough sting. Wooyoung loses himself in the feeling, mouthing your name across your sternum. “So fucking beautiful.”

Whatever response rests on your lips dies as he rolls you next to him on the floor. You leg over his hip, his cock between your walls with little resistance. The kind of intimacy that makes you bubble out your own skin.

The floor isn’t good for sex. Your hips ache. Sweaty limbs stick. Your fiancé has you bent like origami to fuck as far as his dick can reach. His eyes are locked on the way you fit together, but you want them on you. “Baby, l-look at me.”

He does; hooded eyes hazy. Something simmers hot in his gaze, something you can’t name but know well because you feel it. Wooyoung doesn’t look anywhere else but your face as he rolls again and again and again.

“Feels so good,” you pant.

Wooyoung hoists your leg up higher, pushing until your back flattens to the floor and he’s crowded over. You want him to fuck you hard, nasty. Something in between those romance movie references and the way he makes you feel like the only person in the world; perfectly made to take him. 

He groans from the new angle. “I love you.”

The hand shoved between your legs is ripped away. The hand with the ring. The one Wooyoung kept by his side at all hours like an idiot. But you don’t care. Not as he pulls your fingers to he faces and kisses it like a promise, cups his hand around your own one his cheek. You shake. Thrash beneath as stars explode and everything melts into absolute nothing.

Wooyoung manages a few more thrusts before he loses it, pace uneven from champagne and giddy pleasure. The messy of his cum spills with each jilted thrust, trickling where your ass meets the floor. 

Shuddering, Wooyoung collapses. “Jesus Christ.”

You grunt something like ‘I know,’ eyes wet, body vibrating with leftover dopamine. You’ve never had married sex, and any form of nuptials remains far off in the horizon for the time being. But tonight, he’s as good as the real thing. Maybe even better.

“I think I passed out for a second,” you whisper airily. 

“Just some proactive marital bliss.”

He lays on the floor next to you, shoulder to shoulder, hands wound gently together. The pressure of his lips rains over your fingers. Again, and again like he still can’t believe this is real.  You can’t remember ever being this happy.

Hooking a leg over his hip, you cuddle down into his chest. “Bibi is gonna see that ring next weekend and start asking for grandkids.”

“Well, it’s a good thing Myungho called me this morning.”

“Wait, really?”

“Surprised?”

“No,” you laugh. “Mia called me last week.”

Wooyoung presses his nose into your cheek with a whine.  “How come you got to know before me?”

You're both still half clothed. Your dress ruined, his pants the same. Like the so many times you’ve had together where nothing can get in the way of the deep seeded need for one another. Almost poetic. 

You kiss his cheek teasingly. “Because you can’t keep a secret to save your life, Mr. Jung.”

A displeased huff is all the warning you get before he’s back on top of you, fingers bent into your waist, your neck. All the worst tickle spots that have you screaming for mercy.

“You were surprised today, weren’t you?” He pulls you tighter, levels your gaze and whispers like it’s the best secret he’s ever been a part of. “Mrs. Jung?”

“Not one bit.”

[astrolynnworld]

cramps

pairing: matt x reader

summary: you’re on your period and matt does anything and everything to soothe the pain away

warnings: fluff! period cramps, romance, care, reassurance, wholesome, pet names (sweet/pretty girl)

word count: 717

i toss and turn as i feel my pre period cramps start to form

my period is not suppose to come for another 5 days but my cramps always come first, as a warning

i check raise my head to check the clock and see what time it is

“4:15 am” i see on the tv’s cable box

i lay my head back down and continue to shuffle around the bed to find a comfortable position for my cramps to relax in

“baby what’s wrong?” matt asks me with his raspy morning voice

“my period is coming soon, i feel the cramps start to overTAKE me” i say in soft annoyed tone

“is there anything i could do to help baby?” he concerns

“can you actually go get me my heating pad please?” i ask nicely

he hops out the bed and uses the flashlight off his phone to roam around the room and look for my heating pad

once he pulls it in comes back to bed, i hear him gasp

“what?” i jump in shock at his gasp

“your period.. came”

i sit up to see what he’s talking about and see a whole bloody mess stained into our bedsheets

“oh my god” i put my head in my hands out of annoyance and embarrassment

“it’s okay baby. i just need you to stand up for me okay?”

i get off the bed and start to feel the water works fall out

“don’t cry baby” matt says as he comes over to me and wraps his arms around me

“hey it’s not your fault baby” he tries to reassure

“you can’t help it.. you didn’t know, it’s completely fine. you don’t have to cry, sweet girl” he continues as he starts to play with my hair in the hug

i pull back and start to wipe my eyes as i start to sense that im being dramatic

“here baby, i need you to go wash up while i clean the bed”

i nod my head and make my way to the bathroom

“and hand me your clothes before you go in the shower please”

i do as i’m told then i head to the shower

i continue to wash up as i hear matt enter the bathroom

“hey pretty girl, everything still okay?” he asks

“yeah, i’m just finishing up” i sluggishly say

“okay baby. i changed our sheets and im washing the other ones now” he reassures

i stay silent out of acknowledgment but he doesn’t leave

“is there anything else you want princess?” he asks

“no thank you” i say while shaking my head as if he could see me

“alright..” he says before closing the door

i could tell he feels bad but i just really can’t be bothered rn. my stomach hurts, i embarrassed myself, im so annoyed, and i feel bad that he feels bad.. there’s just too much going on

i finish up my shower and put my towel on before heading back to the bedroom

when i get back i see matt had turned on the led lights, switched the tv to netflix, and had my tylenol bottle set up next to some water

“matt what is this?”

“nothing much. just me trying to distract you from your period” he giggles

“that’s not how it works sadly” i pout as i pop the tylenol in my mouth and swallow some water

“well, im gonna try” he comes in for a kiss

i start to get dressed, not forgetting the pad, as matt searches for a good movie to watch.

“do you want some to eat pretty?”

“is anything even open right now?” i genuinely ask

“only mcdonald’s..” he replies

“then yes please” i smile at him

“your usual?”

“yeah” i reply as i get in bed to snuggle next to him

“it’ll be here in 30 minutes” he says

“if we’re still up” i chuckle

“don’t worry. i’ll grab it for you so you can enjoy it when you wake up and not kill me for letting you fall asleep” he chuckles back

“thank you baby. i appreciate you so much, definitely a core memory” i turn over to face him

he smiles and places a kiss on my forehead, “i love you, sweet girl. don’t forget it”

——————————————————————-

taglist: @cutiepatootie36273 @secret-sturniolo @sturns-blog @sturniolo-2003 @mayaaatok @sturnswrites @mattsleftnipple03 @mattybswife @tropicasturn @princessbetsy123-blog <333

[svtiddiess]

Curiosity Killed The Cat Gets You Laid?

Synopsis: It's Halloween night, and you're wandering through the woods you were always warned to stay far away from, searching for vampires. They say curiosity killed the cat, but no one mentioned it could also get you laid.

Pairing: vampire!Jeonghan x afab!reader x vampire!Wonwoo

Genre: suggestive, one shot, vampire! au, supernatural! au

Rating: suggestive/mature

Word count: 1.9k

Warnings: blood, injuries, vampires, dry humping, lemme me know if I missed anything!

Note: Happy Halloween! This is my first attempt at a vampire fic so please be nice.

Thank you so much to Indi @wongyuseokie for the amazing banner! She ate for real.

Click here to join my taglist!

Read on ao3

Reblogs are appreciated ♡

.ᐟMinors/blank/no age indicator blogs will be blocked.ᐟ

October 31st, Halloween, the one day you look forward to all year. In this small, sleepy town where nothing ever happens, Halloween is the rare time when everything feels alive. It's ironic, really, that a holiday meant to honour the dead and the supernatural is the only time the town truly comes to life.

Although plenty of celebrations and parties are happening around town, your mind is elsewhere: vampires. Rumours about the woods on the edge of town have been swirling for years. Some say it's home to secret gold mines; others claim there's a hidden graveyard for those who have sinned way beyond redemption, and many point to the string of murders that have occurred there. But what really grabs your attention is the rumour that vampires live there.

You've been told time and time again never to step foot into the woods, but hey, you can't stop curiosity now, can you? And that's why here you are on Halloween night, making your way through the woods you've been told to stay far away from. You chose tonight for this journey because Halloween is when vampires are supposedly most active—at least, that's what the internet said. You're really hoping it wasn't wrong.

The crunch of leaves and the distant hooting of owls greet you as you step into the woods. A chill runs down your spine as you take in your surroundings—the darkness wrapping around the trees gives the forest an eerie, foreboding feel. The shadows twist into strange shapes, making you glance over your shoulder and double-check your surroundings more often than usual.

You mentally curse yourself for not bringing a proper flashlight; your phone flashlight does the bare minimum to light the surroundings. After several minutes of walking, you stop in your tracks. You could swear you've passed this same tree four times already—or is it a different one? Damn, you might be lost.

'This might've been a stupid idea,' you think.

In too deep to back out now, you proceed to go further into the woods, a very bad idea, but your stubbornness overpowers your voice of reason a lot of the time. A sudden howl piercing through the sky stops you in your tracks. Wolves? No, that can't be. You must’ve misheard—it was probably just the wind, you tell yourself. But then, another howl echoes through the woods. Okay, wolves. Definitely wolves.

Quickening your pace, you decide to retrace your steps, hoping that will eventually lead you back to society. As you try to find your way out of the woods, you hear footsteps, multiple footsteps, heading toward you. Not wanting to risk a run-in with wolves, you take off running.

Unfortunately for you, you were never much of an athlete, so you end up tripping over a rock and falling, cutting your palm on the jagged ground. Cursing out loud, you pick yourself up and observe the cut; it was fairly deep, and blood continuously started to pour out of it, staining your hand. You frown and squeeze your hand, hoping to stop the blood from flowing.

Okay, now you definitely need to get out of the woods. If the wolves don’t get you, the inevitable infection from your wound will (though you’re being a bit dramatic). Frowning, you continue to head to where you think you came from.

Stumbling aimlessly through the eerie forest, you suddenly come upon a massive mansion. It looks like something straight out of the Victorian era, with towering spires, gothic architecture, and plenty of decay to match. Your small flashlight barely does it justice, making it hard to fully appreciate the mansion's haunting beauty.

Could this be it…? Remembering the whole reason you ventured into the woods, you head inside the mansion. You're determined to encounter at least one vampire tonight.

The heavy wooden doors groan as you push them open. You take a deep breath as you absorb the sight of the eerie mansion. Inside is a stark contrast to the exterior; it feels much more cohesive, with relatively recent furniture and a sense that the place isn’t falling apart.

The air stilled. It became quiet, too quiet. The only sound you can hear is the beating of your own heartbeat ringing in your ears. Gulping, you shakily make your way towards what you assume is the fireplace. It was dark, perfectly in line with the gothic theme that enveloped the entire building.

Above you hung a large portrait of two men, hauntingly beautiful, with pale, almost white skin and dark maroon eyes that seemed to pierce through you. Their jet-black hair framed their faces perfectly. They wore white blouses that you assume are from the Victorian era, adorned with very expensive jewellery. One man was slightly shorter than the other, but his looks would put any model to shame; his longer hair framed his face beautifully, making you think, "a fallen angel". The taller man had shorter hair and more sharper features, yet he appeared just as ethereal. His mesmerising eyes seemed to draw you in, almost as if they were sucking your soul. Another striking feature was their lips, a deep red, almost as rich as their eyes.

"Damn, if these guys are the vampires, then I wouldn't mind getting my blood sucked by them," you muse out loud.

"Oh really now?" A voice purred next to your ear. You whip your head around to see who it is, only to be greeted with nothing.

"W-Who was that?!" You shout, cursing under your breath as your voice comes out shakier than you'd like.

"I’m sure you already know who, bunny," a voice whispers from behind. You spin around, but there's only darkness.

"I-I know how to fight!" You yell, trying to sound confident.

"Ooh, a fighter. I like that," a deeper voice purrs, this time right next to you.

Suddenly, your phone is snatched from your hand, plunging you into complete darkness. Panicking, you throw punches into the air, hoping to hit something—anything—but you freeze when a hand catches your fist.

"She really is a fighter, Wonwoo," the first voice chuckles; even his laughter seems to have a surreal feel to it. You hear another low chuckle from behind, which you assume is Wonwoo.

Wonwoo then wraps his arms around your waist, plunges his nose into the crook of your neck, and takes a long whiff.

"You smell absolutely divine, doll," he moans; you can't help but shiver at his actions.

Suddenly, the room flickers to life with candlelight, making the already creepy mansion even more eerie. You can now see the man standing before you, and you gasp; it's the same man from the portrait, the one with the longer hair.

He gently uncurls your injured fist, running his tongue slowly along the wound, and lets out a moan. Your breath catches at the sight, and you can't help but shiver at his actions.

"She likes that, Jeonghan," chuckles Wonwoo. You blush at Wonwoo's words, embarrassed cause it's true.

"You want this just as bad, don't you, bunny?" Jeonghan purrs before licking another stripe up your palm, causing you to let out a soft whimper.

"Don't even try and deny it, doll; we can hear your heartbeat," whispers Wonwoo before licking the shell of your ear.

You gulp, your mouth dry as sandpaper, and your heartbeat thunders in your ears. Sure, you came into the woods hoping to encounter vampires, but now that they're standing right before you, you're unsure what to do. They're so alluring, their very presence making your head spin.

Wonwoo leans down, gently nipping at the skin of your neck, making your heart lurch. You can feel him smirk against your skin.

"It has been a while since we had a blood servant," he mumbles against your skin. Jeonghan hums, a small smirk painting his face.

"What do you say, bunny? Want to become our blood servant?" Jeonghan purrs.

You open and close your mouth like a fish out of water, completely at a loss for words. Yes? No? If you say yes, are you doomed to serve them until death? If you say no, will they kill you on the spot? Your mind races, spinning with uncertainty. Maybe coming out here wasn't such a good idea after all.

"Looks like our little bunny is unsure," snickers Jeonghan.

"How about we give you a taste, then?" Wonwoo whispers before sinking his teeth into your neck.

You gasp and freeze, paralysed by the sudden sharp prick. You brace yourself for intense pain, but instead, you're flooded with overwhelming pleasure. It feels as though every nerve in your body is igniting, sending wave after wave of pleasure through you. Your arousal soaks your panties, and you can already feel it sticking to your skin. You've never experienced anything like this before—nothing even close. You close your eyes, savouring the sensation as your head spins. It feels like you're floating.

"I can smell your arousal from here, bunny. Does it feel good?" Smirks Jeonghan, you can only whimper in response.

"Barely drunk from you, and you're already dripping," Wonwoo chuckles against your neck.

He spins you around to face him, and you instinctively lick your lips as you take him in. Deep maroon eyes with a piercing gaze, skin so pale it's almost white, making his blood-stained lips stand out even more. He looks at you with a smirk.

He cups your cheeks and presses his lips to yours, letting you taste your own blood—metallic and tangy. You melt into the kiss, already addicted to the way his lips feel against yours. Desperate for more, you press up against Wonwoo and start grinding against him. You can feel Wonwoo smirk into the kiss; Jeonghan chuckles at your actions.

"If you become our blood servant, I can guarantee you pleasure beyond what you've ever felt, bunny," hums Jeonghan.

Pulling away from the kiss, you turn toward Jeonghan; your mind clouded with thoughts of them and nothing else. Any sense of reason is long gone. Without a second thought, you agree—you'd say yes to anything at this point.

"Good choice, bunny," smirks Jeonghan before effortlessly carrying you. You gasp and wrap your arms and legs around him.

He sinks his teeth into your neck and starts drinking your blood. You let out a moan at the euphoric feeling washing over your body. Maybe it's because you're already lightheaded from the first time, but this feels ten times more intense. It's as if you've died and gone to heaven, but what's happening is far from heavenly.

Your whole body trembles, and you feel like you have just had an orgasm. You whine out Jeonghan's name as you feel him squeeze your ass. He detaches his lips from your neck and runs his tongue over the bite mark; you shiver at his actions.

Panting, you glance down at the vampire. His pupils are blown wide, lips stained with blood, and a smirk curling on his face. You catch a glimpse of his sharp canines as he watches you.

"We're lucky to have caught such a pretty blood servant," smirks Wonwoo, causing Jeonghan to chuckle.

"Let's take care of the aching between your thighs," hums Jeonghan. "I bet you want to be filled up with our cocks, right bunny?"

"I bet she can take both of us at once," chuckles Wonwoo, causing you to clench around nothing.

"Let's find out, shall we?" Jeonghan smirks before heading toward what you assume is their bedroom.

And that's how, on Halloween night, you became a blood servant—bound to serve the two vampires for the rest of your life.

Taglist: @tinyelfperson @gyuguys @stay-tiny-things @tomodachiii @unlikelysublimekryptonite @miyx-amour @iamawkwardandshy @codeinebelle @brownbunnyb @do-you-remember-summer-127 @jennwonwoo

If your username is striked through it means I couldn't tag you! Make sure to turn off the visibility settings so that I can tag you!

[lavenderspence]

A runaway kitten | A.H.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader

Content warning: fluff, cuteness overload to be honest. 

Word Count: 1.5K

Summary: A troublesome kitten prompts quite the meet-cute

Request: May I please request a meet cute with Hotch? Maybe they become new neighbours or reader has a child jacks age and they meet like that? I honestly don’t mind I just love the cuteness that comes from first interactions 😫💛

A/N: for once, I'm not really sure what to say...except, I forgot this blog's three-month anniversary, so...happy over 3 months? writing's been a bit hard recently, but I do hope it's going to get easier. enjoyy

Request are closed! | masterlist

“Olive?” You called out, setting his water bowl down. You clicked your tongue a few times, hoping he’d come out of hiding to drink some water, or at the very least, show you he was slowly acclimating to the new space. 

Olive was your very pretentious, borderline-dramatic, six-month-old kitten. You’d found him near your old apartment building 3 months ago, cowering in fear and shivering because of the rain.

One look at him, and you knew, this little fella was your new roommate and cuddle buddy. You’d brought him inside, bathed, fed him and the rest was history. 

But Olive did have a flair for the dramatic, at least that had been the case for the last three and a half weeks, ever since you’d moved into your new apartment. 

The moment you’d opened his pet carrier after moving in, giving him a chance to look around and get familiar with the space, he’d turned his small head around a few times, hissed, and walked back into the carrier. 

He’d spent most of his time inside, venturing out for only a few minutes to investigate the space, and then making it inside again. He did slip into your bed every night but still refused to explore the space or get used to it.

He started looking around more the last few days, sometimes spending some time in your closet or at the back of the couch, but that was about it. 

“Olive?” You looked around. He might hate the space, but he always showed up when you called for him. No meows, no movement, and no kitten in sight made you worry a bit. You checked the places he usually visited, if for a little while, and then you checked everywhere else just in case. 

No sight on him, not a peep anywhere. And that’s when you saw it - your bedroom window was open. You ran towards it, head ducking outside to check. You looked around frantically, looking for any sight of him, and finding none. 

But there was a small ledge outside the window, running around the whole building, and any neighboring windows. It was a big enough ledge for Olive to walk across and make it to your neighbors’ apartments. 

You closed the window and ran towards your front door, straight to apartment 123. The lady who lived there always greeted you with a smile, and this time was much the same. But a frown, and a sad one at that made its’ way onto her face when you told her about Olive, and she replied with a shake of her head. 

Olive hadn’t made it to her apartment, all her windows were closed. 

You made your way to apartment 121 and knocked on the door. Your heart was pounding, worry overtaking your senses. Thoughts, about whether he’d made it to apartment 121, or if he’d fallen down. Thoughts about him missing and you trying to find him and failing. 

Deep in thought, you didn’t hear the lock click, or even the door getting opened, until a man stood in front of you.

He was handsome - black hair sprinkled with a touch of grey, chocolate brown eyes. Dressed in jeans and a fitted polo shirt, his hair was messed up like he hadn’t expected any company. He was fit, not overly so, and his posture was a little guarded. 

You remember seeing him, once or twice just in passing, but he hadn’t been dressed that casually. No, he’d been sporting formal attire - a suit and tie, dress shirt, and slacks. You’d barely glanced at each other then, but now standing at his door, you could fully take him in.

You watched him arch a brow, waiting for you to speak up. You shook your head the tiniest bit. 

“Hi.” You started with a small voice and equally a small smile on your face. 

“Hello.” His mouth barely moved, but you caught the small lift of his lips.

“I know this is going to sound very strange. Do you, by any chance, have a grey kitten that showed up out of nowhere, possibly getting in using any of your windows?” You were fidgeting, picking at your cuticles as you waited for his reply.

He relaxed a little, an actual smile making way for a row of white teeth, and the most adorable dimples you’d seen. He chuckled. “Well, I may have an even stranger answer for you. Why don’t you come in?” He moved aside and pulled the door open. 

Upon walking in, you took in the place. It was tidy, with minimal decoration, but also full of personal touches. Throw pillows and a blanket over the couch, pictures on the walls, and photos neatly arranged on the bookshelves. A blond woman, beautiful, smiled in one, her eyes striking. 

A photo of a small, adorable boy, no more than three, holding a small plush koala decorated another shelf. A small carbon copy of the woman. 

A chest of toys sat close to the bookshelf, and a lone toy truck was on the coffee table. 

“Sorry about the mess.” There was no real mess, to begin with, just a laundry basket full of clothes waiting to be folded and put in their rightful places. “This way, please.” He led you towards the back of the apartment, his strides small. 

The hallway was well-lit. A child's drawings were framed and put up, making the space homey. 

You made it to a half-opened door, “Jack, buddy?” Your neighbor called out, pushing the door open. On the floor next to the bed sat the same, cute boy from the picture in the living room, and close to him, lying on his back, paws in the air, was Olive. 

“Oh, Jesus.” You laid a hand over your heart, willing your heartbeat to slow. The little troublemaker was okay. 

“Who’s this daddy?” The boy, Jack, asked as he reached to pet Olive’s tummy gently. 

The man turned towards you, opening his mouth, but you beat him to it, “Hi, I’m Y/N, your neighbor. And this bad boy you have there is Olive.” You missed the soft look the man gave you when you introduced yourself to his son.

“Oh, he’s yours?”

“Yes, this little devil is indeed mine.” You shook your head with a chuckle.

“Why did he walk through the window then?” He asked, expression earnest and sweet. This might just be one of the cutest kids you’ve ever seen. 

“Jack!” The man, whose name you had yet to learn, crossed his arms and shook his head, sending you an amused look.

“Well, I left the window open, and he’d been very vocal about not liking the new apartment much, so he decided to go on an adventure.” You kneeled, getting to his level where he still sat on the ground. 

He looked like he was thinking for a second before he smiled, “He’s been liking my room, maybe he should stay here?”

A choked laugh fell from the brunette behind you, “Jack, no. You can’t say stuff like that.” 

“It’s okay.” And it really was, because Olive was still flat on his back, looking at you in boredom. 

“Worth a try.” He grinned back at you, one of his front teeth missing. You laughed in earnest, overcome by his cuteness.

“We better get going, we’ve taken enough of your time��” You trailed off. 

“Aaron.” He reached his hand forward, offering it for a handshake. 

You accepted his handshake with a timid lift of your lips, watching as his big fingers enveloped your smaller hand. You swore a small spark went through you at the contact - the feel of his skin on your own. Like a zap, an electric current - even your heart skipped a beat. 

There was something about his touch, maybe him as a whole, that you reacted to. A nice reaction. 

“Nice to meet you, Aaron.” You said, repeating your name to him too. 

His eyes shined just a tiny bit in wonder, he wanted to know more about you, to get to know you. As his new neighbor, he hadn’t paid you much attention, any at all. But now? Stood in his son’s bedroom, in search of a troublesome kitten and speaking softly to Jack as if he was the most precious thing ever? He felt a small piece of his heart crack, making space for a new person to enter - a new person to get to know better. 

You clicked your tongue, calling for the kitten again. He turned on all fours, looking bored, and started walking towards you. 

Just when he was mere centimeters from you, he stretched, his whole body shaking. Aaron expected the grey creature to walk up to you, but instead, it stopped at his feet and stretched again.

This time it stretched up his leg, his small eyes widening in plea.

You laughed, and Jack’s small giggle followed. 

“Well, maybe Olive does like it here.”

“Maybe he does,” Aaron added, looking at you. Your kitten may have liked his apartment, but Aaron liked seeing you both in it just as much.

comments & reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[dollfacefantasy]

Playing to Win

pairing: stepdad!leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: your new stepdad isn't much older than you, yet he has the audacity to ask you to call him daddy?

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, dubcon, daddy kink, humiliation kink, spanking, praise/degradation

word count: 4.3k

a/n: i got a little silly hehe. this is technically my first commission. if you’re interested, check out my ko-fi. as always i appreciate the support, smoochies.

this is my first commission written for my beloved @nexysworld. without her, this would never have come about. she's a great writer and such a sweet person. you all should go check out her blog if you haven't already.

“You want me to call you what?” you ask incredulously as you stare down the man standing across from you.

“You heard me,” Leon says with no sense of teasing in his voice.

You laugh in his face, a cruel, unabashed laugh. You could not believe his audacity to ask you to call him daddy. 

Technically, he was your new stepfather, but it was comical to you to even acknowledge him as such. He was right around your age, only a couple years difference, no way in hell were you going to call him daddy.

You had been open with your mother about your displeasure over Leon’s presence in your life. You called her a cradle robber and a cougar but to no avail. She continued her relationship with him; a young, bright eyed, rookie cop who always thought he knew best.

He wasn’t the problem so much. Sure, he was kind of annoying, but he was also pretty cute. He was funny, and if these were any other circumstances, you could see yourself and him getting along great, even being friends. Generally, he was nice to you, maybe a little over friendly if you were being honest. It always seemed like he knew something you didn’t, but you assumed that was just his nature.

“You’re funny, Leon,” you taunt, “Seriously, good joke.”

“It’s not a joke,” he corrects you and folds his arms over his chest, “Now that I’m taking a more serious role in your life, I expect you to show me some respect.”

“Oh, you do?” you laugh, “Leon-”

“Daddy,” he corrects.

You almost can’t speak, stunned to silence by the nerve of him. Was he doing this to annoy you? Was it supposed to be funny? Because there’s absolutely no way he could be serious about this.

“We are almost the same age. You realize this, yes?” you ask, enunciating the words slowly to get your point across, “I’m not calling you anything but your actual name. And maybe not even that cause you’re pissing me off, and I don’t wanna talk to you.”

“All this attitude, sweetheart, and for what?” he says as approaches you, “I’m not asking you to run a marathon for me. All I want is to be addressed properly.”

You scowl at the pet name. He brings a hand to your face, stroking your cheek with his knuckles before you swat it away.

“What is your problem, Leon?” you say angrily and shove him away, “Is this some fucked up fetish of yours? Like it’s not pathetic enough you’re fucking a divorced woman twice your age, right? You have to feel in control of me too to get it up?”

You laugh at him again when he responds with a glare. Rolling your eyes, you walk closer to him and get in his face.

“Aw, did I hurt daddy’s feelings?” you mock in the sweetest tone you could manage, giving him puppy dog eyes and putting emphasis on the title he was so obsessed with, “I’m so sorry daddy. Please don’t be mad at me.”

You’re about to laugh again before Leon spins you around so you quick the motion nearly gives you whiplash. Your back is flush against his chest, and even though you were teasing, your little performance clearly had some effect as you could feel his dick, now half hard, against your ass. It causes a small flash of heat in your belly that you try to pretend didn’t happen.

“Listen up, I’m not going to tell you again, baby. You do what I’m asking you, or we’re going to find another way to get it through your pretty little head,” he says.

His grip was firm. Despite his usual officer friendly persona, he could obviously be serious when he wanted to be. It didn’t shock you. You knew he was fit and could be intense. You’d caught him working out with his shirt off, sweat dripping down his muscular back while ‘Kim’ by Eminem blasted in his airpods. You tried to deny it, but it had left you feeling a little hot under the collar for the next few days.

You squirm in his hold, but he keeps your wrists pinned to your lower back. “Oh yeah? What are you gonna do, send me to my room? Ground me?” you say as you try to wriggle away.

“Oh no, we’re past that. You want to be a brat, I’ll handle you like one. I’ll put you over my knee and smack that cute ass until it’s raw, and you understand who’s in charge around here,” he says.

“You’re gonna spank me?” you shriek. You thrash harder in absolute shock. “No way! Are you fucking crazy? My mother will kick your ass.”

“Your mother isn’t here, babe. I’ll do whatever the hell I want,” he says. His fingers only tighten on you, digging into your flesh. An arm loops around your waist and starts pulling you over to the sofa. “Maybe she’ll be grateful that someone’s finally trying to teach you some manners.”

Even though you knew he was in shape, he was much stronger than you thought. He sits down on the sofa and folds you across his lap with no real effort. You’re secure there too, unable to get to your feet or away from him. You still try though, flailing your limbs about and bucking your hips.

“There, there. Let’s calm down, honey,” he coos, now clearly taunting you. He rubs the swell of your ass over the tight dress you were wearing. “Just tell Daddy you’re sorry, baby. I’m not a bad guy. I’m willing to hear you out.”

You don’t even respond. You pound your fists against his leg while kicking your feet.

“Poor baby. There’s no reason to throw a tantrum,” he says in the most condescending voice you’d ever heard. He gives you a light warning tap on the ass. “Just tell me what I want to hear, and Daddy will make it all better, give you all the kisses you need until you’re back to being a good girl.”

He was driving you fucking wild. Your body was taut with anger while your mind ran wild with frustration, not only at him, but at yourself. You could feel your panties getting sticky with arousal as he spoke down to you.

“Shut up, Leon!” you say and continue struggling.

His hand comes down again, cracking a little harder against the supple flesh of your ass. You suck a sharp breath in. It didn’t hurt yet, but it stung. Anymore force behind the swing of his palm and you knew he could fulfill his threats of marking up your ass.

“You wanna try that again, princess?” he says, “I’ll give you one more chance.”

“No! I’m not calling you Daddy you sick fucker! I-”

A loud slap echoes through the room. That was the smack you were scared of. So hard you could feel the burn beneath your skin. There was absolutely no doubt about his strength now. He lands another two, one on each cheek, drawing whimpers from your throat.

“Watch your mouth,” he says, “I’m sick of the whining and the back talk. I’ve given you more than enough chances to fix your behavior. I’m done playing nice with you.”

In a quick motion, he yanks your skirt up to bunch it at the small of your back. You squeal out “Leon!” but it makes no difference. Again, you attempt to wriggle away. All it does though is give him a view of your ass wiggling around in those cute panties you wore. The ones he had seen peeking over the waist of your jeans.

He lays more lashes to your skin in rapid succession. You wriggle slightly and involuntarily whine. Your ‘stepfather’ felt no guilt though. Partially because it was all part of the plan, partially because he could see the light purple fabric between your thighs darkening with arousal. Plus, the pathetic noises spilling from your mouth only made him want to work harder, rip more sweet cries from you. He continues cracking his solid hand against your bottom, sending ripples through the soft flesh. Your cheeks burn with embarrassment, your eyes start to water, and your bottom lip juts out into a quivering pout.

“Oh, look at that sweet face,” he coos, taking a break from spanking you to stroke your cheek, “I know it hurts, baby. But it can all stop once you decide to stop being a stubborn little brat.”

He punctuates his statement with another swat. Your body jolts forward at the contact, head falling forward to hang in shame. You hate yourself for playing into it, but you can’t stop the automatic response that exits you in a humiliating whimper.

“I’m not a brat.”

“Oh you’re not? Could’ve fooled me,” he responds. He cracks his hand against your cheeks a few more times before giving you a break and rubbing the sore skin.

“I’m not. You’re just… you’re just mean.”

The words tumble from you in a pitiful cry, physically hurting you to say something so pathetic. To show such weakness when he was being such a prick. You shut your eyes, and a warm tear falls down your face. That only made you feel worse, making you want to cry more. A vicious cycle you couldn’t break out of when all your mind could think of was your stinging flesh and his patronizing voice.

“I’m being mean to you? Aw baby, after all the things you said, you think I’m the mean one?” he mocks.

“I-I’m sorry,” you whimper out without really thinking about it.

“I don’t need you to be sorry, sweetheart. You know what I want,” he says.

What’s supposed to be a groan comes out as a frustrated whine. You shake your head weakly and open your eyes again. His fingers slip beneath your chin to lift your face to look at him.

“Just say it. Say it and it will all be over. We can get on to helping you feel better,” he says.

The pain radiating from your ass, now glowing red, was almost enough to make you give in on the spot. But you could hear it in his voice. He was so fucking smug, having so much fun watching you cry and shift around in discomfort. You couldn’t just let him win.

So you shake your head defiantly, sniffling as your watery eyes connect with his in a stare. You immediately regret your decision because the amused glint that forms his eyes lets you know that he enjoys the resistance more than your submission. The corners of his lips tick upwards into a slight smile. Now it’s his turn to shake his head and mockingly tut at you before swinging his forearm and blasting your sore flesh with the heel of his palm.

You cry out, the noise strangled with despair. Your teeth dig into your bottom lip to restrain the louder sobs that were bubbling in your throat.

“Just give in, sweetheart. There’s no need to act tough for me. Do what I know you want to, and say the word,” he orders, his words coming out low and slow.

You know you should, but god, you don’t want to. It’s like your most basic instincts don’t want you to either. You have to think through it, force your tongue to conjure the word and expel it from your lips.

“I’m sorry… Daddy,” you whimper. A couple more tears leak from your eyes. The humiliation that mounts in your chest is like nothing you’ve ever felt before. But as the heat rises to your cheeks and clouds your mind, making you feel dizzy, you feel a deeper sense of heat spreading out in your lower belly. And it only gets worse when he starts in on you again.

“Oh, that’s my girl. Such a good girl when you want to be. I knew you could do it,” he coos, “Say it again for me, baby. Least you can do after being so cruel.”

At this point, you figure you’d already said it once, so what’s one more time. You say it again if for no other reason than to stop his harsh blows from raining down on your sensitive skin.

“I’m so sorry, Daddy,” you cry.

“That’s right. I know you are, honey. I know you don’t mean that stuff. You just wanted some attention, right? Wanted some time with Daddy all to yourself,” he says as his hand comes up and starts stroking your hair.

You weakly shake your head. You weren’t acting up because of that. He was being an asshole. That’s why you were acting up. Or were you even acting up? Your reaction was justified, wasn’t it? All the attention on you mixed with the shame boiling in your head makes it hard to think through this stuff.

“Oh, are you shy? Don’t wanna tell the truth?” he coos with a cruel chuckle. One of his hands rubs your aching ass while the other trails up and down your thigh soothingly. The latter hand slowly creeps to the junction of your legs. “I know that’s what it is, doll. I can feel it.”

As he says that, you feel fingers petting the damp fabric that conceals your cunt. You take a sharp breath to which his chuckle grows into a short laugh. He presses his fingers against the cloth, and you can tell immediately that even his movements are done in a way to mess with you. His digits drag against your panties, not giving you the pressure you need on your clit. You squirm awkwardly in an effort to find a better angle and not feel the soaked garment cling to your folds.

“Feeling a little impatient?” he teases.

You nod, any remaining shreds of dignity you have slowly being peeled away. You just couldn’t resist. The potential pleasure that’s just out of reach. The heat of his thick cock against your hip. His voice, like soft velvet slipping over your mind.

“Well honey, show me you can ask nicely, and I’ll be happy to help you out. Won’t even make you wait, we can get right to what you really want,” he says. His tone sounds slightly more genuine here.

“Pretty please, Daddy,” you force out. Your eyes cast down in shame as if you’re studying the pattern of the living room carpet.

“Pretty please what, babydoll?” he says, the teasing returning for a moment.

“Pretty please… fuck me,” you squeak.

He smirks, his victory written all over his face.

“Woah, listen to the mouth on you,” he tuts, “Normally, I wouldn’t let that kind of language fly, sweetheart, but I think you’ve had enough punishment for one day.”

His hands squeeze your waist and flip you over on his lap. He wipes away your tears with his thumb and presses a kiss to your forehead, that stupid smug expression on his face the entire time.

The next move is guiding your body onto the couch. You whimper as your back meets the cool leather. He pays that no mind and instead lifts your hips and tugs your skirt and panties off in one motion. You notice in your peripheral that he takes a souvenir, shoving the light purple underwear in his pocket.

After giving your ass a firm squeeze, his hands drift up and pull your shirt off. His eyes fixate on your tits, his soft hands coming to cup them and flick his fingers over your nipples which were beginning to perk up.

“No bra? I guess I should’ve expected that from you,” he chuckles as he continues fondling your soft breasts. The touch relieves some of the building pressure, the weight in your chest just begging to be squeezed and massaged. He watches the pliable flesh move beneath his fingers before giving your nipples a quick pinch and moving to undress himself.

He doesn’t waste any time, his clothing pooled on the floor in mere moments. He gets on top of you. Large hands hook behind your knees, angling your hips upward. Your legs come to rest on his shoulders as he grabs his cock and swipes the tip through the slick that had collected between your thighs.

“So fucking wet, I didn’t even need to warm you up,” he grunts as he pushes the tip in.

You bite your lip, unable to stop the whine it brings out of you. He exhales with amusement, and his free hand goes to your face to rub your cheek. It was only the tip so far, but you couldn’t even deny how good it felt. And while he moves with a purpose, he draws out this first thrust as long as possible. He inches it in, going as slow as he can. The pleasure he gets just from watching you squirm with desperation is clear in the way he looks down at you.

“There we go. Just what you need. Daddy filling you up. Gonna make you a good girl from now on,” he coos and drags his thumb over your bottom lip. 

Without even thinking, you open your mouth and flatten your tongue against the digit before wrapping your lips around it. You suck on it gently, softly moaning as your saliva coats his thumb.

At this point, it’s physically impossible for him to look more pleased with himself. Honestly, it seemed like he took more enjoyment from watching you slip farther into his grasp than he did from the feeling of your cunt pulsing around him.

Once he’s all the way in, completely buried in your warm, wet embrace, the hand that had been guiding his cock slides up. He gently thumbs your clit, grinning as your sweet mewls become the slightest bit louder.

He begins dragging himself in and out, savoring the feeling of your walls gripping him, sucking him in. It seems you only clamp down harder as he plays with your pretty little bundle of nerves. He keeps toying with it as his hips work back and forth.

Your eyes flutter, becoming half-lidded with the smooth stream of pleasure flowing through you. You whimper and whine while still sucking on his thumb. He started to repeatedly tease pulling it out before pushing it all the way in, nearly gagging you.

“So precious, aren’t you?” he whispers, leaning forward.

Your thighs are now pressed to your chest. His cock so deep it reaches places you didn’t even know about. He picks up the pace a bit, balls smacking against you with each move. To your dismay, he removes his thumb from your mouth, dragging it down and smearing spit down your chin. Your disappointment is only momentary as he’s quick to capture your lips in a searing kiss. 

His soft lips move against your wet ones while he continues pumping deep. Your head swims with the pleasure he provides. Everything becomes a soft warm haze as he toys with your clit and stretches you out. The gentle kisses combine with the tender feeling of his warm skin sliding against yours.

“Gonna have to do this every time you get bratty, baby. Keep you dumb on my cock, exactly where you should be, making sure you don’t get outta line,” he grunts, eyes closing as a wave of pleasure hits him, “This all you needed, just some time with Daddy.”

You nod lazily, all hopes of keeping a resistant exterior up gone out the window. “More kisses, Daddy,” you mumble as you connect your lips in a messy kiss.

He chuckles at the lack of resistance left in you. He returns your nod and indulges you. His tongue slips into your mouth, meeting your own as you make out.

It’s all so good. You can’t get enough. Everything is him right now. It’s all for him. You know you’re getting close and so does he. He can feel the way your pussy rhythmically constricts around him. It’s working him closer too, but he can’t let it end yet. Not before he gets to the final step.

His movements become strategic. You’re teetering on the edge, getting enough pleasure to keep you whining and clutching at him, but not enough for that final push to heaven. Just one more stroke in the right wave, and you know you could get there.

While your head continues to fog up from his efforts, he pulls away from kissing you. He nestles his head in between yours and the couch cushion.

“You know, honey, now that we’re seeing eye to eye, I think I should let you in on something,” he whispers, hot breath fanning across your ear.

“Mmm, what?” you ask. You were only half paying attention, too caught up in the heat of the moment.

“I’ve had my eye on you for a while, sweet thing,” he rasps.

“Really?” you ask, unsure why he was bringing this up but choosing to go along with it in your dreamy state. He had been dating your mom for a while, so maybe he had this little infatuation for longer than you thought.

“Mhm, earlier than I think you know,” he says with a nip to your earlobe.

“That’s nice,” you murmur and nuzzle your face against his hair, breathing in his scent.

“Aren’t you curious when? When was the first time I saw your pretty face? The first time I wanted to slide into this tight pussy?” he murmurs.

“When?” you ask. You tried to feign interest, but fuck, you really just wanted to cum.

“I remember it, clear as day. It was at a party, you remember that guy from high school who had the 3D tv in his basement. It was at his house. You were down there, looking so fucking cute, talking to some douchebag. And I heard you talking to him. About Fortnite,” he says.

You just nod and moan. You honestly didn’t even remember that he went to your high school, but you didn’t really care at the moment. It still felt so good, him drilling in and out of you. You just couldn’t help but wonder why he thought now was the time to bring this up.

“You told that guy your gamer tag. But I realized I also remembered that name. I had played a match with you before. You beat me, stole my victory royale,” he says with a soft laugh.

“Umm… ok,” you reply, totally lost and not just because your mind was all cloudy from being railed into the couch.

“Tell me, honey: do you remember the name rookiepillz?” he asks.

“No?” you say. Was this really the time for this conversation? That was all you could think. But before you could voice your complaint his hand starts rubbing your clit again with even more pressure than before. All words in your throat tangle up into a string of whimpers.

“You should. I sent you a message after that game. Told you ‘I’m gonna fuck you and your mom sweaty,’” he says with a particularly hard thrust, “Well, look at us now.”

You listen, absolutely lost, until the dots start connecting. You turn your head to look at him, not believing this was real. You did remember that message. It made you and your friends giggle for the next hour, created an inside joke for the next few years.

“No way,” you say. You try to keep your voice even, but despite his insane words, his cock was still hitting just right, “Rookie- fuck! Rookiepillz?”

He puts in a couple of those strokes that hit just right, brushed all your sweet spots, filled you up the perfect amount. All the while his thumb rubs your clit in tiny, quick circles. You couldn’t hold on. A sharp cry leaves you as you gush around his cock. You grip the couch for support as your body rolls with the rush.

“Yes way, sweetheart. Rookiepillz,” he grunts.

When most of the high has finished and you’re starting to come down, you open your eyes and look up at him with disbelief. He’s grinning, so satisfied that he’s gotten the last laugh.

“Wha- you’re… you’re fucking insane… literally why would you remember that? And why would you take it so seriously? It’s Fortnite!” you moan, still feeling the aftershocks of your release.

“I play the long game, baby, and I play to win,” he moans as a strained expression washes over his face. He snaps his hips a few more times before slamming in all the way with one final thrust. “This is my ultimate victory royale.”

With that, he empties himself inside you, hot cum flooding your cunt. You whimper yet again. It still felt good even if you just found out his motivation behind all of this was borderline psychotic.

He pumps in and out a few more times before pulling out. His chest puffs with deep breaths on top of yours. Both of you lay together in silence for a few moments. What had just happened? You could barely even comprehend it. Instead of driving yourself as crazy as he is by dwelling on it, you shove him off of you. You get up and start putting on your clothes again.

“You’re fucking crazy,” you say.

He laughs and sits up on the couch. “Don’t act like you didn’t have fun, baby,” he says while stretching, “You were such a good girl for your daddy.”

Your eyes widen and cheeks burn with embarrassment at his teasing. God, why had you ever said that? Now that you weren’t all worked up, you just wanted to go back in time and kick your own ass for even thinking of giving in.

“Shut up,” you grumble.

He stands up, still laughing and clearly on top of the world with his “victory.” You smooth out your outfit as he starts putting his own clothing back on. He holds up his belt and cracks it teasingly.

“Watch your mouth, there’s still time before your mother gets home. That sweet ass might not have enough marks,” he taunts.

You shoot him a glare before storming out of the room.

“Oh come on, babe. If you’re not into that, maybe we could play some Fortnite?” he calls.

[faevi]

TABOO LOVE. - (gojo smut)

Scenario: Your parents & Geto Suguru are visiting you & Satoru’s new apartment. You’re nervous about having to keep such a big secret. You’re step-siblings & your parents thought it was such a wonderful idea to share an apartment in a new city. Good thing Satoru helps you relax. Before & after their visit.

Word Count: 18,762.

Content / Trigger Warning: female reader (she/her), dark content, STEPCEST (step-siblings), STEPBRO!gojo, daddy kink, cunnilingus, fingering, squirting, blowjob, face-fucking, breath-play (via cock), choking, unprotected sex, sexual intercourse, cowgirl position, creampie, cock-warming, spanking (impact play), dirty talk, degradation, humiliation, hickeys, marking someone, bruises, pain, dacryphilia, crying, big dick gojo, stomach bulging, cum denial, multiple orgasms, a stressful dinner with the fam(?), hiding a taboo secret, jealousy, everything is consensual, tit slapping, body worshipping, possessiveness, suguru is here too!!! not really a warning but if it piques people's interest, suguru temporarily shows interest in you, too.

I think that’s it?? Please let me know (kindly) if I accidentally missed anything and I’ll add it!

Note: Obviously please take note that this is dark content and contains something that is taboo - being step-siblings. Aka stepcest. Don't read if you don't like it (: It’s not just 18k words of smut, I did actually write the dinner scene, which was kind of rough to write basically 5 characters at once kldfjgdf. Instead of the usual 2. I haven’t edited this and yet again, not my best writing but, I hope people will still read and enjoy it ; - ;. Please let me know if you do!

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS, PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT!!!

Satoru could hear your anxious footsteps throughout the entire apartment, hand cupping his cheek as his elbow rested against the edge of the couch, watching you with slight amusement as you moved from room to room. He’s not as worried as you are about the upcoming scenario that will play out. Satoru clears his throat before calling out.

“Baby, just come and relax. Sit with your ever-so-handsome boyfriend.”

You look over your shoulder in the direction of his voice, choking on a strangled laugh at his words before head whipping around to double-check the set of drawers in the shared bedroom. The photo frames aren’t there. Good. Instead, just a cluttered mess of Satoru’s belongings. That was your idea.

“You should probably start calling yourself my stepbrother again, for practice. Don’t want you slipping up.” You couldn’t help but whine out dramatically, footsteps thumping down the hallway until you’re back in sight of Satoru. You stand there for a moment, gazing at him. Satoru’s eyebrow raises, hand extending out towards you.

Your boyfriend— Also known as your stepbrother, doesn’t seem nervous at all. In a couple of hours, your parents are visiting for dinner. Both of you were lucky enough to claim excuses to move to another city about a year ago and it’s been perfect. Your excuse was university and Satoru’s was work. Your parents didn’t even question sharing an apartment when it was noted that there were two bedrooms. Just being friendly roommates as well as step-siblings. It was way, way more than that to the pair of you. Deep down in your teenage years, you were always attracted to your stepbrother and desperately tried to be in denial. Until that one fateful night where you ended up in his arms after drunk-possessive sex; learning that he felt the same way towards you. That is a story for another time; feeling too stressed out to think fondly of your first time with your stepbrother.

Now there is no more hiding behind closed doors. Able to hold each other’s hands. Go on public dates. Lots of public affection— That was definitely a pleasant surprise to learn that Satoru is a sucker to hold onto you in public and not be ashamed. Even mutual friends from the city are utterly oblivious to your ‘history’ outside of dating. It’s impossible to just cut your family outright. Especially when love and good relationships are tightly bound. You still want your family. It’s just… Satoru was more than that. Good thing you both just have to be quiet about your passionate love affair, away from family and old friends.

“Y/N, snap out of it and just sit on my lap already. There’s nothing to worry about.” Satoru attempts to reassure you as he reaches out for you, fingers twitching with eagerness to touch you. He loves touching you. Can never get enough. His large hands manage to grab you by your hips and pull you in close. You prevent him from pulling you directly onto his lap, hand against his toned chest.

“How are you not nervous? Worried, even? Our parents are coming in about five hours and you’re just sitting there being all—“

“All?” Satoru asks, lips forming a playful grin as his fingers caress your hips, loving the sight of you squirming and pathetically trying to pull his hands off of your body. He knows your body craves him. All the time. Since day one or even before that day.

“Cute.” You sigh with feign annoyance and collapse onto his lap, unable to resist the comfort that is Gojo Satoru. His arms wrap around you and pull you with ease until you’re slumped against his upper body, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I am nervous, I just don’t see the logic of being your kind of nervous.” He jokes lightly, ignoring the jab of your elbow. Even dating, you both still have the habit of the bickering, playful sibling moments you developed through the teenage years of knowing each other. Not many years apart, in his defence. Not even blood-related. Didn’t /exactly/ grow up together. You met him when he was already in his upper teenage years. Those are the excuses he’d try to use if anyone found out and showed disgust. Satoru may have been protective of you when you were younger and still going through high school but, he never really viewed you as a close sister or anything. He cared for you but, in his eyes; His father and your mother ended up together. You were just there, ready to cause havoc and have him fall for you.

“They’re just staying for dinner, alright? We can handle that much. Sit opposite of each other and do that typical sibling shit.” He reassures, long fingers playing with a few strands of your pretty hair. He always liked your hair. You bury your face against the side of his neck and inhale deeply, wishing you could just soak in everything that is him. “But, I hate doing that. I came here to get away from it and to be with you properly. As lovers.” You confess quietly, voice shaking. Satoru’s face softens from hearing your words. Usually, people think he can’t be serious. Friends often joke about him not having a serious bone in his body. They’re all wrong. You know the real Satoru, every shade of him. His hand comes down to tenderly stroking along your back, pressing multiple kisses to the top of your head.

“I know, baby girl. It always feels close to impossible and I want to just kiss you whenever I want, without having to worry. It’s just sometimes, we have to go back to what we originally were— siblings. Step-siblings.” He corrects himself swiftly, nails grazing your back lightly. Not blood-related and never will be. “It won’t be every day, Y/N. Just a couple of times a year, maximum. Just for a few hours, okay?” He says in his low voice, feeling you relax into him.

You hate to admit that he’s right. It’s even a miracle that this is the first time your parents are visiting this year and they won’t be for Christmas. You should look at this as luck. You can do this. Just for a few hours. You’re beyond nervous about everything and sure, wish you could hold his hand over the dining table but… You can do this. Both of you can. You sniffle quietly, tilting your head to look at the wall, still clinging onto the white-haired male who easily towers above you, even when sitting. “Okay... There’s nothing that screams us being a couple out in the open, right? All tucked away?”

Satoru playfully rolls his eyes, fingers curling around your chin to gently coax you to look up at him. “Everything is hiding, even my monster-sized condoms. So they can think their charming son gets zero action at all.” Satoru adds jokingly, enjoying the sight of your expression twisting and smacking his chest. “Rather they think that than you fucking someone that isn’t me.” You grumble quietly, leaning in to bump your nose against his. “Ah-ah, Y/N. You know how I feel when you show your jealous side. Better watch your mouth before I fuck it and get cum stains on the couch from there being too much of my seed for you to swallow.” Satoru teases, feeling rather endeared that you made no rejection of ‘monster-sized’. To you, he’s so huge that you can’t even deny that. Satoru leans in to press his lips against yours eagerly; desperate to get his fill before the nerve-wracking night begins.

Every sensible thought went right out of the window as you responded to the kiss with your own eagerness. Hands coming up to cup his cheeks as your body presses against his, fitting against him perfectly like soulmates. You belong to him, thinking so when he’s able to leave you so breathless and your head spinning just from a single kiss. His soft tiers move against yours, slowly devouring you. His finger presses against the underside of your chin to keep your head in place, wanting to take his sweet time with you. The white-haired male’s other hand glides down to boldly grope your ass cheek, easily coaxing out a needy whimper from you.

“Nn, wait— We can’t, mmf..” You try to stop Satoru from going any further, but words fall on deaf ears. His long fingers splay out across your ass cheek, roughly tugging on the thin fabric that acts as a shield. “I don’t fucking care about making a mess, baby. We have plenty of time. Let Daddy ease your nerves, hm? Don’t you want Daddy to take care of you?” Satoru whispers hotly against your ear between deep breaths, firm hands pushing you further down against his crotch, cock already throbbing. It isn’t about him, though. Satoru wants to help you relax and he knows that his fingers alone can make you melt and keen for him.

Your head already starts to feel fuzzy and warm. People would probably tell you that you’re going to hell if they knew that you call, not only your boyfriend but your stepbrother; Daddy. Neither of you cared. It just felt right between you both. “Can we at least move to the bedroom?” You plead softly, feeling two of his digits drag along the wet patch that forms on your shorts. “Y/N, you’re so fucking filthy. Already getting so wet just from me fondling your ass and kissing you? You’re soaked.”

The humiliation drives you further, embarrassed as a hand clamps tightly over your mouth to muffle the sounds that dare to escape as the two fingers continue to drag up and down slowly. Satoru always enjoys humiliating you. He can be quite sadistic and the only one who can handle him is you. Still, Satoru isn’t /too/ evil and still prefers you to feel comfort and so he lifts you with ease, carrying you down the hallway, hand soothingly rubbing along your back once more. Your arms and legs wrap around his tall form, clinging to him so tightly. Satoru just finds it cute. It’s even cuter when you hug his arm, breasts cushioning either side as you try not to act jealous of a girl hitting on him. If only you knew that no girl could ever even compete with you. He’ll always be your lover and stepbrother. The world doesn’t matter to his selfish heart.

From a height, Satoru just drops you onto the bed that you both share, laughing at the sight of your playful glare, body bouncing from the mattress. The sight of his wide grin is more than enough to ease your mind. You love this man. “Shall I grab the camera and take some photos? Plaster them all across the walls for our parents to see?” He jokes, hand instantly grabbing a hold of your ankle and you move to kick him. “I’m supposed to be the bratty one, Satoru.” You say breathlessly, feeling his large hands tenderly massaging up your leg. He leans down to press a kiss to your ankle, bright blue eyes focused on your face. “You are the brat and I can easily put you in place. Babbling like a crybaby as your ass throbs. My sweet crybaby. All mine. Let me focus on making my girl feel good.”

Satoru gently drops your leg before he easily manhandles your body until you’re resting against the pillows, hands firmly keeping your quivering legs apart as he starts to lower himself to the ground, just at the edge of the bed. “W-Wait! Maybe we should— get a towel, or something.. So we don’t make a mess.. They’ll explore, I know they will.” You mumble out shyly, yelping from the pleasant sting of pain that spreads through your inner thigh, glancing down to see Satoru’s hand now soothing the pain. “Stop worrying. We have plenty of time.” He attempts to reassure you, though far too distracted by his lust to properly calm you down. Selfish? Maybe. Satoru just knows that you will end up relaxing and even chasing for more of his touch.

Making sure you’re close enough, Satoru wraps his arms around your quivering thighs to hoist you towards him, dragging your body across the neatly made bed before his face is buried against your cunt, inhaling the scent of your sex deeply. You whimper softly, shifting yourself onto your elbows to see the gorgeous sight you’ll never be able to forget. Your stepbrother between your legs. The white-haired male looks up at you from beneath his white lashes, tongue flat as he drags it teasingly along your covered folds, knowing that you’re only wearing booty shorts that are already soaking through. Your breath hitches from feeling the fabric rough against your sensitive clit, biting down on your lip in a pathetic attempt to silence yourself.

“Don’t,” Satoru warns, nipping at your inner thigh. “Our parents aren’t here yet, I want to hear you.” He says, unwrapping his arms around your thighs and hooking his long fingers beneath the elastic band of your shorts. You couldn’t help but huff, looking off to the side and your teeth not holding your lower lip anymore. You wouldn’t dare disobey him. “What if they decide to surprise us and arrive early?” You question anxiously, though not stopping as Satoru guides your legs up so he can tug your flimsy pair of shorts up the length of them. “Then they’ll see their son eating out their beloved daughter and enjoying every moment of it.” He states and you can hear the smirk in his voice.

“Step..” You hastily add, flustered. Though, you couldn’t deny that deep down the thought of being caught with him is so arousing and Satoru knows that. You’ve often gotten riled up by his filthy words about potentially getting caught. Satoru’s large hands grip your inner thighs to force them open and you drop your upper body back down to the bed, a hand coming to cover up your face and Satoru eagerly takes the pretty sight in. Your needy pussy coated in your juices already, giving it a light sheen beneath the bedroom light and looking even more enticing. “Fuck, you’re dripping so much. Even anxious, you won’t ever stop thinking of Daddy’s cock.” The white-haired male states, soft lips curling up to form a grin.

His humiliating words just go straight to your cunt, hands covering your flustered face. You could practically feel how wet you are just by shifting your body and Satoru wastes no more time. Arms back around your thighs to hold them in place, he dives forward to press a sloppy kiss to your slick-covered folds and dragging his long tongue through them, groaning happily as your sweetness already begins to fill his mouth. Tasting the juice always reminds him of the first time he got to taste his stepsister’s pussy and that he refused to turn back ever since. You belong to him now and he’ll eat you out any chance he can get. He’s a lover of it and always leaves you stunned because what kind of man loves to eat a girl out?

Gojo Satoru. That’s the kind of man. Beyond addicted to it as his tongue continues to hungrily lap up your slick and you whimper loudly, hands gripping onto the blanket beneath you as your body already trembles from the pleasure that surges through you, directly from your hot core. “D-Daddy..” You stutter out softly, impatience starting to form as Satoru continues to take his sweet time; just his tongue sliding up and down between your folds, not even touching where you truly want to feel his tongue. Satoru hums, already reading your mind, but doesn’t relent. No one tells him what to do, especially you… Well, when it comes to being between your legs. He’ll happily oblige for anything else.

Time seems to tick by, your taste permanent on his tongue and with one final swipe of his tongue, he finally pushes in a little further. Slick smearing on his cheeks as he buries in, your folds parting for him and he continues to just lick up your mess, though the tip of his tongue now teases your tight entrance, swirling around it. You moan out pleasantly, feeling the sweet daze coming over you and your hand comes down to weakly grip his white hair, pulling. “So fucking good..” Satoru murmurs, voice muffled thanks to being ‘busy’ with his mouth. His tongue teasingly glides up until it meets your throbbing clit and you gasp at the sudden sensation you feel, pulling further on his hair until his scalp aches.

His laugh is soft, pressing sloppy and needy kisses to your clit, eagerly making out with it as if it’s the last day on Earth. You used to be embarrassed by hearing the loud slurping sounds, as it meant you were making too much of a mess, but your stepbrother loved it. It’s a beautiful sound to his ears, aside from your voice. So, naturally, you’ve grown to love it, too. His tongue swirls gracefully around the sensitive nub, teeth occasionally grazing against it to coax more of your whines to leave your lips. You’re dripping so much that it’s already causing stains on the blanket, but you’re too blissed out to care at the moment, just so happy to have his mouth against your hot cunt. Satoru knows he’ll have to calm you down afterwards, though.

His large hands soothingly caress along your thighs that still quiver. You’ve always been sensitive to his touch and it sure does boost his ego and eagerness. Nails graze along the soft flesh and you’re whining as the tip of his tongue repeatedly flicks against your clit, your stomach already feeling hot and tight as the urge to climax grows.

You know that only Satoru has been able to make you come just from his mouth, previous partner would refuse anything sexual asides from blowjobs to benefit him. You briefly remember Satoru snorting obnoxiously when you told him in his bedroom back at the family home and wanting to show you how a lady should be touched. It was the morning after your first time with your stepbrother. The point was definitely proven and addiction grew on both sides.

“Daddy, please—“ You choke out between soft pants and the white-haired male’s tongue drags flat across your clit, looking up at you. “Hold it in.” He orders, voice loving yet rather menacing. A threat. He brings one of his hands down, two long fingers parting your folds as he drags his tongue between to break the strings of slick before his other hand shifts further down until one finger teasingly glides across your entrance and he coos as he watches it clench from the sudden touch.

Cheeks stained with your slick, he presses multiple kisses to your clit, lips wrapping around the sensitive nub to suck on as his finger slowly rubs against your hole before he presses the tip in and slowly pushes the digit in. You whimper as you feel the length of his finger slide in comfortably, velvety walls snug around it. Already, you just want to let go. Especially as he continues to suck on your clit and now the single finger slowly pumping inside of you. You can feel it drag along your inner walls, only to thrust back in, curling slightly to find that sweet spot.

Just as the second finger joins the first to finger you slow and deep, a jolt of pleasure shocks through you when they rub against the sweet spot inside of you and a string of moans just spills out of you, eyes rolling. It feels so fucking good. “Daddy, please... Just let me—“

“No, you’ll come when I say you can, baby.” He says so sweetly despite the harsh words, lips curl to form an open smile as his tongue slides out, saliva mixed with your juices dripping back down onto your cunt. You whine, tears in your eyes when he denies you and your body just feels so tingly and warm. So relaxed and like jelly as he continues to pump the index and middle finger inside of you. Satoru couldn’t get over how your walls squeezed so deliciously around his invading fingers— something he’ll never get used to, truly. It just leaves him excited to have you tonight once the whole ordeal is over.

His cock throbs in his sweats, but he does nothing about it. He did not try to grind against the edge of the bed or even bring his other hand down to relieve himself. This is all about you. His beloved stepsister, who happens to also be his lover. You’ve been uptight for weeks about tonight and he’s always eager to help you relax. Whether through bedroom activities or something else. Satoru presses a loving kiss, a final one to your clit before he scatters kisses, tongue dancing across your inner thighs. Your body is twitching, feeling so hot and desperate to just let go as his fingers continue to slide in and out with ease, thanks to your slick. They continue to abuse that sweet spot and leave you sobbing softly for your release, tears glued to your long lashes.

“Look at you, my pretty crybaby. Not from my cock either.” Satoru mocks lightly, though incredibly endeared by you. The tall male lifts himself until he’s hovering above you, leaning against his elbow at the side of your head. He grinds his long fingers into you and you look up at him, almost blinded by the tears in your eyes. He’s dragging this out for so long and you could barely think anything incoherent. Just drunk off of the pleasure and feeling so hot. “You want to come?” He asks tenderly and you notice how messy his face looks, the bottom half covered in your juices. It just sends a flush of neediness down to your cunt from how pretty he looks, the hair even looking so soft and fluffy. You couldn’t form words between your filthy moans so all you can do is nod, face twisting from the ecstasy you feel. Satoru grins a little, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your temple, his voice low and husky. “Go on, stepsister.”

His fingers pick up the pace and you can’t even express the light annoyance you usually feel from him calling that because it’s shameful how easily he can read you. It turns you on. The whole stepsibling thing is so taboo in society, but the pair of you not caring. Fuck, yeah it’s hot that your stepbrother is the best at eating you out and everything else. Hell, even riling you up. He just knows that you find it thrilling to go against the norm and aside from that; you deeply love him for more than that. He isn’t just your sibling that you’re not related to by blood. Not just some stepbrother you met during your teenage years and have to pretend he annoys you like siblings do. Not just some stepbrother you sit next to as ‘Clueless’ plays on the television screen for the last family movie night before moving out and your hand secretly holding his in the dark. Not just some stepbrother who promises your mother that he’ll take care of you in the big scary city. He’s your boyfriend and more. Soulmate, even.

You gasped sharply as his fingers thrust into you rapidly, gliding in and out so quickly. Your inner walls could barely cling onto his fingers, only squeezing around. The pads of his fingers rub against your sweet spot and you’re choking through your sobs of pleasure, arms wrapped around his bigger form to hold onto him, as if afraid you could sink into the mattress. “A-Ah, Daddy— Feels so— Nngh!” You cried out and you could feel it rapidly approaching. He shifts his fingers within you, rubbing the sweet spot still but now his wrist moves up and down rapidly and fuck, you know what he’s going to make your body do for him. “N-No, ah!!”

With a high-pitched cry of ecstasy, Satoru swiftly pulls his fingers out and you are gushing. Sprays of your juices spurt out from your throbbing cunt and your body trembles through the addicting high that continues to crash over you. Your mind is wiped clean and all you can do is hold onto him as your pussy squirts. Your nails dig harshly into his broad shoulders, forehead pressing against him and Satoru holds you through your orgasm, soft praises falling from his lips. His entire attention is on the heavenly sight of the mess you just made. Still making as the last spurts escape and he soaks it all in, not giving a damn that his arm is also dripping with your juices. You’re so going to murder him when reality hits you. He doesn’t care. He knows you like it deep down, even despite future scenarios giving you anxiety.

“Satoru…” You slur out in your sweet daze, your body still feeling so warm and jelly-like. The white-haired male smiles down at you, crystal blue eyes full of love. “Less anxious now?” He teases lightly. You know he cares about your well-being more than you do at times, even if he teases. You feel your walls clenching around nothing, clit throbbing and slowly coming down from the high. You slump against the bed with a content sigh, pulling him down against you and he obliges, eager to get some cuddling in.

Until you realise what’s happening and gasp in shock, pushing him up so you can sit upright, eyes wide in horror as if witnessing the scene of a crime. There’s a damp patch on the edge of the bed and even a mess on the carpet. “Satoru!” You whine, gripping hopelessly onto his shoulder. “We have to clean this up, they’re going to be here soon. Oh my god, why did you have to be— So hot.” You grumble, nudging against his shoulder. Satoru lets out a delighted laugh, slightly amused by your outburst and presses a kiss to your forehead, shifting himself until he’s standing. “Go take a shower, babe. I’ll clean everything up. Don’t worry and just truuuust me. Please?” He quickly adds, lips curling to form an innocent smile.

You easily melt because of his charms and stand up, only to stumble into him from your legs being so weak from the orgasm you just went through. His arms loosely wrap around your waist, gazing down at you as he smirks. “Not even with my cock, mind you.” He sighs and you can’t help but shake your head, lips twitching as you hold back your smile. His cockiness is attractive and you will not admit that to his face. You glance down towards his crotch at the mention of it, noticing how his cock seems to strain against his tracksuit pants. “I’ll take care of it.” Satoru says when he notices where you’re looking, though secretly wishing you would. You couldn’t help but pout, wishing you could just wrap your lips— or even your fingers and help him feel good. There’s no time. You manage to coax your legs into walking in the direction of the bathroom.

“Oh, by the way… Your high school crush is coming tonight, too.”

You pause in front of the bathroom door, hand on the doorknob and turn around to face the white-haired male, feigning an innocent smile. “What?” You ask and watch as Satoru shrugs, hands stuffed into his pockets. “Dear diary, Suguru said hi to me today when he came over to chill with Satoru. I swear I creamed my panties when he smiled at me. I like him soooooo much. Satoru’s best friend is so hot.” He dramatically whines with his voice shifting to a higher pitch and your jaw drops in shock; not from the fact that there’s an extra person coming tonight, but the fact that your stepbrother read your diary in secrecy back when you were both teenagers.

“Satoru, you read my diary!? I never said I creamed my panties!” You squeal with frustration, stumbling towards your boyfriend to repeatedly smack his firm chest, though no actual strength behind it. Not that any of your genuine strength could hurt the older male. Satoru finds himself grinning to the point of his cheeks hurting, laughing at seeing you become so flustered and gently holding onto your wrists, not stopping your punches. “Couldn’t help myself, was curious who my little sister was crushing on at the time— Maybe cause I wanted it to already be me, but sheesh. It was my best friend instead. That would have stroked his ego.” Satoru jokes, arms draping around you and begins to shuffle towards the bathroom.

You huff a little, curled fists against his chest as you look up at him. “Suguru is hot, I’m not going to deny that... Maybe I was already crushing on you deep down but didn’t want to admit it— Either way, why are you only telling me now that Suguru is coming? Now we have to be even more cautious! He may not be our parents, but he’s an extra person and Suguru is seriously… perceptive. We’re doomed, he’s going to find out.” You whine, slumping against Satoru, arms draping by your sides in defeat.

Satoru rolls his eyes and opens the door behind you, gently nudging you into the bathroom. “He’s not that perceptive, relax. Everything will be fine. No one will find out about our love, I promise. Evidence is currently in hiding and we’re not going to make out in front of them. We got this, Y/N. We’re a team.” He says, gently bumping his fist against your forehead and you couldn’t help but smile softly. He’s right. “A team… Okay, well— It will be nice to see Suguru. He’s hot, after all.” You state with a playful smirk before closing the bathroom door in Satoru’s face.

Jealousy briefly surges through Satoru, but he’s able to calm himself down before giving you what you want; him riled up. He just scoffs quietly. “Don’t forget who made you squirt with just his fingers! Enjoy your shower.” He shouts through the door as he hears the sound of water. With a playful shake of his head, Satoru looks down at his crotch as he turns around before the mess on the bed.

“…Cleaning can wait.”

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The gentle chime of the doorbell is heard through the small apartment and dread crashes over you. It’s time. Satoru is next to you, both of you standing just off to the side and out of sight of the peephole. Just in case one of your parents tries to eagerly look through. His hand rests on your waist, giving a gentle squeeze. His eyebrows are knit together to form a slight frown. He just had to help you calm down from crying out of fear and anxiety only an hour ago. “H-How’s my face?” You ask with a pitiful singular laugh as you look up at him. “The most beautiful I’ve ever seen. Are you ready? It’s just for a few hours.” Satoru says, knees bending a little so he can meet you face to face.

You inhale deeply, frantic heartbeats calming down at the sight of your boyfriend’s face. It’s cute when he looks all serious and concerned. You glance around you. “Everything is clean, even the mess from before. There’s nothing they can find, Y/N.” He reassures and the doorbell goes off again. Your mother has always been rather impatient. You smile towards him and nod, reaching for his hand to give a squeeze. You didn’t need to say you’re ready, Satoru can sense it. He presses a loving kiss to your lips. “I love you.” He reminds you and your heart flutters. “I love you, too.” You return softly.

Satoru pulls away, large hands dusting off his front. He’s wearing an outfit that you always want to rip off— Just a simple white shirt that isn’t buttoned up all the way and black slacks. You’re currently wearing one of his favourite dresses on you. You smooth out the creases before you walk ahead of him, taking one final deep breath and a glance at Satoru before you open the door with a wide smile.

Three people stand before you and the lady is already pulling you into a crushing hug. “Y/N, my daughter! I’ve missed you so much. Are you eating enough? School isn’t too stressful? Oh, I just can’t wait to see the place.” Your mother expresses excitedly, moving on to hug Satoru. It may be her stepson but you all get along like a close family. Not being blood-related never mattered. Satoru wraps an arm around her, guiding her inside. “Hey, Mum. Good to see you. Come in.” He says, laughing as you didn’t even get to answer her.

You turn to face your stepfather and smile wide. “Dad! It’s been too long.” You say as you give him a tight hug. He pushes up his glasses before smiling down at you. He’s tall, just like his son. “Your Mother has been quite eager for tonight, let me go calm her down.” He jokes as he enters the apartment to greet Satoru. You look towards the last person, heat rising to your cheeks when you briefly remember what Satoru mentioned before. Geto Suguru is smiling politely, reaching in to embrace you. You don’t have a crush on him anymore, but it doesn’t mean you’ll never be flustered by his beauty. “Hey, Y/N. I hope Satoru hasn’t been too troubling to live with.” Suguru jokes, voice smooth and calming. He’s always spoken rather gently. Especially with you and Satoru.

“He’s an absolute pain sometimes, but he takes care of me as brothers are supposed to.” You say and Satoru scoffs from hearing your words. “She can be a pain too, y’know— Suguru.” He says, pulling the dark-haired male into the typical bro hugs that guys do before actually hugging the male properly. You couldn’t help but smile, happy to see Satoru pleased to see his best friend after so long. You close the door behind you, checking to see everyone’s shoes are already off and neatly in a row in the entryway.

Before they can even pull apart, your mother is already inspecting the lounge area, smiling wide. “Well? Show us around!” She says, hands rubbing together. Your lips quiver from anxiety and Satoru’s hand clasps on your shoulder to give a squeeze. It’s the only way he can touch you in their eyes. Typical sibling touches. “Y/N has been a madwoman with all the cleaning today, wanted it all neat just for you, Mum.” He says and you jab your elbow against his side to play out the sibling retaliation. Your father chuckles as Satoru pretends the elbowing hurt, rubbing his side. “Some things never change, hm? Still brother and sister with some rivalry.” Your stepfather says, following your mother.

You just knew that your mother would want to see every inch of the apartment, though thankfully respectful enough to not open drawers, where evidence such as couple photos are hastily stuffed between clothing. “I must send some photos for you to hang up on the walls, they look so empty.” Your mother says, hand patting the empty hallway. Family photos… Could they pass off as you and Satoru just being a happy couple visiting one set of parents if friends in the city visit? “I think some paintings would also be nice, make us appear like we’re totally art snobs.” Satoru jokes as he opens the door to the guest bedroom— ‘His’ bedroom. The parents peek inside as they laugh at how silly their son is. Suguru thankfully isn’t too bothered to see the apartment compared to seeing his best friend it seems and so he only lingers about in the background.

It’s set up rather neatly to look like Satoru’s bedroom, though the bed appears like it’s slept in with creases and not properly tucked and the laundry basket is filled to the brim with his clothing and items scattered about— You were anxious about it appearing like he lives in it and definitely never sleeps in your room. Satoru is slumped against the wall, arms casually crossed as he watches them look around with excitement. “Satoru, you need to be a bit cleaner. What would you do if you brought a girl home.” Your stepfather jokes lightly and instantly, your heart squeezes with jealousy at the thought of your stepbrother with another woman. He swiftly glances towards you, having to bite back a small grin and shrugs. “Think my charm will be more than enough to make up for it.” He says, brushing against so casually to lead your parents away. Perhaps the excuse could be a tight hallway, but you know it’s him trying to reassure you.

You walk alongside Suguru, who is just shuffling behind your parents who now walk to the bathroom that isn’t attached to the master bedroom. You look up at him, he’s always been incredibly tall. Just like Satoru, except not as tall. He’s grown out his hair even longer than before, only half tied up in a bun. Suguru notices you looking and offers a smile. “You must have been stressed, Y/N. About tonight… Though, I can imagine it’s often chaotic when you just live with Satoru. Are you able to get sleep?” He jokes and the white-haired male overhears, playfully sending a glare and you giggle softly. “Some nights it’s impossible.” You sigh, knowing your stepbrother would pick up the implication and have his ego inflate.

The bathroom is just like ‘Satoru’s’ room, with items looking half used, rather than new and rubbish in the bin. No one uses the bathroom, since you both use the one in the master bedroom. You rub at your eyes, finding it a little exhausting that every inch must be checked, but that’s just parents when it comes to their children living away from them and just how beneficial it is that their children get along fine enough to share an apartment. ‘Ha’, you think. They’d be horrified with the truth. You enter the master bedroom behind them, anxious eyes double-checking that nothing is in sight. You hate it. You want your photos back up and cute couple items you’ve gotten together, like plushies from an arcade or hell, even your sex toys out without a care.

“It’s so nice of you to let Y/N have the bigger room, Satoru. Such a good big brother you are.” Your mother praises, patting him on the cheek before she looks around. His lips curl up to form a smug smile, shrugging. “Gotta take care of little sis.” He says, words dripping with playfulness that only you can pick up. He wraps an arm around Suguru’s shoulder to lead him back out since there isn’t else to see, eager to just catch up with his best friend. Your anxious heart starts to settle down. It’s just the other basic rooms now— dining, kitchen and a study. It seems like you’re both managing to pass the test. Then, only dinner and dessert will remain and they’ll be out of here, maybe around 10 o’clock and you can return to clinging onto Satoru. Knowing you… You’ll probably cry in relief and he’ll pat your head. You sigh quietly. Even just a head pat would be nice and will help you through the night.

Soon enough, your parents do seem satisfied with the apartment that you’ve both chosen to live in and are now settling into their seats at the dining table. Your stepfather at the head of the table, your mother next to him and you next to her. Satoru is across from you, Suguru by his side. Everyone is starting to sit down, chatting amongst themselves. “It’s a lovely little place you’ve chosen, it just needs to look more lived in. Like a home.” Your mother says and you smile, nodding. “We’ve both just been so busy but I guess we can find some things both of us like to decorate… Nothing inappropriate, of course. Right, Satoru?” You ask through clenched teeth as you smile towards him, desperate to keep up the sibling act.

He rolls his eyes and holds his hands up. “No girls in bikinis, I promise. I’m an adult, y’know.” He retaliates lightly and you laugh, rising from your seat. “Please tell me you two don’t bicker all day and do get along.” Your stepfather says lightheartedly, looking towards his wife. “We get along fine,” Satoru replies with ease and you’re internally grateful that he takes charge of the conversation because knowing yourself? You would have screwed up the very second they walked in. You leave the dining room just as your parents start to ask Suguru how he is doing and if he’s taking care of himself, looking behind your shoulder to see Satoru glance towards you with a certain glint in his eyes.

You sigh out softly, thankful to be alone for a moment as you begin to prepare the dinner plates. You decided on a simple roast, far too lazy to do any cooking… well, more like too stressed out. Even if you secretly crave a comforting and warm bowl of ramen. Hell, even just simple miso soup would be nice. You carefully stack the full plates onto the tray and turn around, gasping sharply as you nearly walk into a much taller body— Satoru. “You startled me.” You huff, walking past the white-haired male and he swiftly plucks two plates from the tray to lessen the weight, leaning down to whisper against your ear. “Sorry, babe. Just wanted to check on you.”

His warm breath tickles your ear and his words provide comfort to your heart. Satoru is willing to risk things for even the brief moments and you’re thankful. Even if you do nervously glance at the open doorway of the kitchen. You follow behind him to return to the dining room, smiling when you see your parents laughing along with Suguru. The dark-haired male always got along with your parents and they’d often joke about how Suguru keeps Satoru in line. You place the plates in front of your parents before yours on your placemat, setting the tray aside. “Please help yourself to some garlic bread— I know, I know. Usually goes with pasta and not a roast. I was craving it.” You laugh lightly as you sit back down, next to your mother.

“It looks lovely, dear. Did you do it all by yourself? I hope your brother helped you..” Your mother trails off, eyes narrowing in warning towards Satoru’s direction. You’ve already ripped a piece of garlic bread to nibble on, hiding your smile behind it as you look towards your secret lover who sits across from you. The white-haired male sits up straight, fork dramatically stabbing into a roasted carrot that he bites in half. “Actually, I was in charge of dessert and no, I didn’t just secretly buy it. I’ve been learning to bake.” He grumbles lightheartedly and you smile even further, biting on the bread.

You know the truth. Satoru has indeed been learning; ever since he discovered how much you loved pastries and anything sweet, he picked up the hobby. It was sweet, really. It’s funny how girls in high school claimed that Gojo Satoru would be an immature boyfriend to have and be someone so selfish; just because he’s a bit loud at times and enjoys goofing off from time to time. They never saw what you could see and even now, you get to happily live with your loving boyfriend who takes such good care of you. Your mother’s eyes widen at the news, cutting into her meal before taking small bites. “That’s an excellent hobby, Satoru. Hopefully, Y/N doesn’t inhale it. You have to be careful, Y/N and take care of yourself.” She warns lovingly and you sigh softly, nodding. You know she’s just saying it because she cares, but you’re internally grateful you don’t have to hear it anymore.

“I eat most of it.” Satoru lies with ease as he continues to eat. Suguru snorts lightly beside him, taking a sip of his glass of wine that was prepared earlier. “I can vision that.” The dark-haired male jokes, winking towards you. You snicker quietly, nibbling on the end of a potato that you cut into. Satoru tilts his chair sideways to shove against Suguru lightly and steal a sliced piece of meat off of his plate. “Less dessert for you, Suguru.” He chimes happily, shoving the meat into your mouth.

The five of you continue to peacefully eat as you talk, giving life updates. Whether about work or college. It seems Suguru is thinking of moving into the city and you couldn’t deny your heart being squeezed by your anxiety. It’s not that you don’t like Suguru. You adore him, really. It would just be so difficult to hide what you have with Satoru if someone from your past is here… Still, Satoru would be happy and that’s what you care about. As you cut into your last slice of meat, you accidentally drop your knife against your plate from hearing your mother’s words and your stepfather humming in agreement, eager to hear. “Satoru, have you been trying to find a nice girl to date? You’re in your late twenties now. I’m sure pretty ones just flock to you. You’re our handsome son, after all.” Your mother expresses sweetly, eager to hear some gossip.

Your hands feel clammy. Heart sinking into your stomach at just the mere thought of your… boyfriend finding another girl to date. It would be so much easier. You feel too uneasy, desperate to feel some sort of reassurance from your stepbrother. Your eyes focus heavily on him as your leg slides under the table to bump against his foot. Quietly and in complete secrecy, you shift your foot to caress along his ankle, eyes refusing to look away from him. He’s not looking your way at all, nor looking affected by your touch as he just laughs a bit too naturally at the words, shrugging. “I don’t know, I don’t feel any desperation to find a partner. If it happens, it happens. Don’t try to put pressure on me, Mum. I got a job to focus on.” He jokes, your foot creeping just a bit further up his leg, applying pressure to make him really feel it. You’re utterly oblivious to a different pair of eyes glancing towards you before Satoru as he speaks, all attention focused on your stepbrother.

“Like he could get a girl. His confidence might scare them.” You finally joke as well, feeling defeated that Satoru didn’t even look your way as you teased him under the table, moving your legs to tuck beneath the chair and your shoulders deflate. It was stupid of you to be so risky, Satoru was right to behave like that. Your stepfather chuckles, setting his cutlery down. “What about you, Y/N? Any nice person at university?” He asks gently and you feel the heat rise to your cheeks, now having Satoru’s fierce gaze snap towards you and you couldn’t deny how searing it feels. You squeeze your legs together under the table, hands sliding between them and shrugging. “Haven’t been looking, maybe 'cause I believe too strongly in destiny. Time will come.” You laugh sheepishly, leaning back into your chair.

Satoru’s gaze softens on you, briefly thinking of the time back at the old home when you secretly snuck into his bedroom for cuddling and the topic of destiny came up. He couldn’t help but eagerly agree. That’s what it feels like. What you have together is destiny. Satoru stands up as he begins to stack the plates. “I’ll go prepare dessert.” He says, surprised to see both Suguru and his father stand up to help with the dishes. “Let us help you out, son. Y/N, it was really delicious.” Your stepfather praises and Suguru smiles towards you. “Agreed, Satoru must feel lucky to eat his stepsister’s cooking.” He says smoothly and you smile shyly towards him. You shift to talk to your mother as the three men walk into the kitchen.

The white-haired male exhales out softly, setting the plates down near the sink. “Thanks, Dad. Suguru, you as well. You can go relax.” He reassures and Suguru gives a nonchalant shrug, opening the dishwasher. “Might as well lessen the burden.” He says and Satoru’s father nods with eagerness. “Agreed, let me help out.” Satoru’s father says and Satoru laughs, approaching one of the top drawers and opening it. “Not going to deny help, less work for me—“ He pauses, looking down into the drawer and instantly notices a particular kitchen item that should definitely be hidden— or even burned. He slams the drawer shut with a bang and leans against the counter, trying to appear as casual as possible with his toned arms crossing his chest. “Actually, Dad? You travelled quite far, you should go sit down. Suguru and I can do this.” Satoru says, words hastily escaping his lips. His father blinks innocently, oblivious to his son’s behaviour. Suguru is standing behind Satoru’s father, eyes shifting to the top drawer with interest.

“Are you sure? You know I don’t mind—“ Satoru’s father begins and the white-haired male lets out a fake laugh, slightly strained. “I’m sure, besides I need some— bro time with Suguru.” Satoru quickly adds, forcing a smile in his best friend’s direction. His father looks towards Suguru and Suguru smiles wide, eyes shaping into crescents. “Yeah, bro time. I hope that’s okay.” He adds politely and Satoru’s father chuckles, holding his hands up. “Alright, alright.” He says before shuffling out of the kitchen. Satoru sighs deeply, body only relaxing slightly. His hands are still gripping onto the countertop anxiously and he forces out another awkward laugh. “Bro time.. Right, thanks for helping me out with the dishwasher. So— what’s up? Any ladies you’ve been interested in?” Satoru tries to ask casually, his voice strained and his back still against the counter. How the hell is he going to deal with this with Suguru still in the kitchen?

There’s a mischievous glint in Suguru’s eyes as he looks towards the other male, leaning down to slide a plate into the dishwasher, stepping closer to Satoru as he keeps his voice quiet enough so he can’t be heard by the others outside of the kitchen. “Oh, I don’t know. I do think this one girl is interested in me. Might shoot my shot. She’s pretty cute.” Suguru says, tucking loose strands of hair behind his ear that escaped his tied-up bun. Satoru shows interest, eyebrow raising as he steps closer, though one hand still blocks the top drawer. “What? Who? Come on, tell me.” Satoru whispers with excitement, lips curling to form a grin.

“It’s your stepsister. See, just now—“ He pauses, watching the colour drain from his best friend’s face and smirking a little before he feigns a thoughtful expression. “At dinner, I felt someone caressing my leg for a minute or so. Very slow and teasing, y’know? It felt really good to be touched like that. It was Y/N. I could tell…” He trails off and Satoru leans back against the counter, jealousy bubbling up within him. His knuckles begin to turn white from how tight his grip is on the counter. “Yeah? Is that so? My own stepsister, huh?” He asks, his voice tight and even resentful. Suguru steps closer, resting against the counter next to Satoru and leans in, voice laced with playfulness. “Except, she wasn’t even looking at me. Her eyes were just locked on you, refusing to look away.” Suguru explains, hand cupping his chin as he rubs it in thought, noticing a nervous shift in Satoru. How fucking obvious. Satoru lets out a small laugh, avoiding eye contact.

Fuck. So maybe Suguru is perceptive. He’s doomed. Even if the jealousy simmers down, he’s still so fucked. “Maybe she was just shy and didn’t want to look your way..” He lies, though despising the mere idea of it. He must have had his legs tucked under the chair for that one moment and you mistook Suguru’s leg for his own— Fuck, you were also probably seeking reassurance, Satoru realises. He didn’t know. Suguru scoffs, moving to stand in front of Satoru, a hand clasping his best friend’s shoulder to give a squeeze, making sure his voice is still quiet, even soothing so Satoru knows he means no harm. “You and Y/N are secretly dating.”

Satoru’s large hands drag across his face as he hunches forward, forehead briefly resting against Suguru’s shoulder. Fuck. “Suguru, fuck— Listen, I know it’s wrong, okay? I know it’s fucked up. I can’t help it, alright? I’m in love with her, I don’t care if she’s my stepsister.” Satoru tries to explain, words just babbling out nervously as he leans back up to look at Suguru’s face, determination in his eyes. “I love her. She loves me. That’s why we ran away to live here, so we can be— y’know, free. Listen, Suguru… You can’t say anything, please.” He pleads a light tremble of fear in his voice.

Satoru is never scared. This is surprising to Suguru and he holds his hands up to show innocence. “I’m not going to say anything, relax. Your secret is safe with me. You know I only want you happy. Y/N, too. It’s not like you’re blood-related so as your best friend? Easy to look past the whole taboo. Sucks I can’t make my move, though.” Suguru jokes and Satoru glares at him. Suguru snorts. “Jokes, jokes. Relax. Don’t want to be murdered by my own best friend. Still, though. It was rather risky for Y/N to do that. The leg thing. I thought she would know better.” Suguru adds, returning to the dishes and Satoru’s shoulders hunch forward, body deflating with concern. “Was it around the time of me being asked about my dating life? She was probably anxious and just needed comfort... Just wish I could openly give it to her.”

The white-haired male twists his body to look down at the counter, crystal blue eyes shifting towards Suguru. “Don’t even react—“ Satoru threatens before opening the drawer. Instantly, Suguru is hovering to see inside. Directly in the middle of the clutter lays a wooden spoon, black writing across the curved surface of the spoon. ‘Y/N’s spanking spoon, spanked lovingly by Daddy Satoru.’ Little hearts are drawn around it and Suguru has to cover his mouth to muffle his amused snicker. Satoru elbows him before a hand comes up to grip his white hair, desperately trying to think of what to do with it. There’s always that slim chance of his stepmother opening the drawer. He wouldn’t put it past her. “I need to get rid of it,” Satoru says, reaching to grab it.

Suguru snatches it up to inspect it. “Wow, so this spanked your stepsister’s ass, huh? Daddy? Why do you keep it in the kitchen?” The dark-haired male teases and Satoru tries to snatch the wooden spoon up. “It’s a spoon! Since when were you such a brat, give it back.” Satoru huffs, only to raise an eyebrow when Suguru tucks the end into his pants and pulls his oversized sweater over it. “Can’t get rid of something so precious, hm? I’ll go hide it in her bedroom… Well, your bedroom, too. Can I stay over tonight? Just tell your parents that I’ll use the couch if they happen to ask.” Suguru suggests, lips forming a smug grin.

Satoru’s cheeks are flushed red with embarrassment but he pretends to not feel such an emotion and grins, gesturing for Suguru to go. “Thanks, go hide it. Yeah, you can stay… I’ll have to tell Y/N that you know about us. She’s going to be mortified when she realises how you figured it out. Maybe I’ll just fuck the mortification out of her.” He says, moving to the fridge to grab the plate that contains a cake. Just a simple sponge cake, covered in cream. Suguru scrunches his face up. “TMI, Satoru. I may not mind hearing Y/N’s sex life, but definitely not yours.” He teases before swiftly leaving the room to avoid Satoru’s retaliation. His hands are laced ever so casually behind his back as he enters the dining room.

You look towards him, raising an eyebrow as he begins to walk towards the exit. “Just going to quickly use the restroom, if you don’t mind Y/N?” He asks and you nod eagerly, smiling. “Go for it.” You say before turning back to talk to your parents, answering their eager questions about the university. Satoru on the other hand, leans his arms against the fridge for a moment, gazing blankly at the cake. He’s so relieved. Truthfully speaking, Satoru always wished just one other person knew of his secret love affair with you. Someone who also knows that you’re both stepsiblings who happened to grow up with each other during their teenage years. Even further relieved that it’s Suguru, his best friend. Thankful to not be judged or criticised. Just accepted. If Suguru had rejected it, Satoru would have thrown him out of the apartment and refused his parents’ questions. He’s not afraid to admit to himself that he’d choose you over anyone else. If it meant packing up and moving elsewhere for good, he’d do that, too. Where no one could reach. Anything to be with the one he loves.

Heart and mind now feeling at ease, Satoru grabs the plate that holds the cake and carries it into the dining room, dessert plates already set in the middle of the table. You perk up at the sight of Satoru, though try to play it off as if it’s the cake that catches your interest instead. “Oh my! That looks delicious, Satoru!” Your mother praises as Satoru sets it down, grabbing the knife as he neatly begins to cut even slices to dish out, smirking a little. “Naturally, I’m good at everything.” He says lightheartedly and you press your lips together to prevent a smile from appearing. Anyone else would find his cockiness to be obnoxious and yet, it’s just one of the many things you love. Hell, your stepbrother has taught you to be more confident in yourself. You help with the plates, setting them in front of your parents.

Suguru happens to arrive just in time, gripping Satoru’s shoulder to give a reassuring squeeze. The white-haired male relaxes. The ‘spoon job’ is done. Everyone is settled down now and you refuse to even try to touch Satoru under the table, just focusing on taking small bites of the sweet cake. You can’t prevent the soft moan from escaping as you lick the cream off of your lips. Your parents are oblivious to such sounds, but Satoru is looking right at you, fingers tightening around his fork. Suguru has to cover his amused smile, pretending to wipe his mouth.

“Y/N, I hope it’s okay that I stay over tonight? Satoru has already agreed.” Suguru says gently and your heart sinks a little. You like Suguru. Obviously. If it was during high school, you would be running to your room to squeal and jump with joy. Now though… you were hoping to be able to unwind and be free with Satoru. To have all stress gone and to cling to your tall lover. Now you’ll have to keep the act up. You force a polite smile, nodding. “That’s completely okay, Suguru. I’ll set up the couch for you when Mum and Dad leave for the night.”

Your parents gush about the lovely idea for Satoru to have even more time with his best friend, finishing the slice of cake before they relax in the chair. Everyone is finished and not wanting to bother with the mess later, you stand up to collect the last set of dishes. Satoru shifts to move and you hold your hand up. “Don’t worry, I can do it.” You reassure, allowing Satoru some time with your shared parents before they’ll be leaving soon. You love them, really. You just feel exhausted. Hopefully, with time, it will become easier to hide things to the point that it won’t feel like an act. You doubt it. With one arm managing to balance the plates, you use your free hand to grab the leftover cake.

You enter the kitchen to start hastily stacking the plates into the dishwasher, along with the cutlery. You eventually turn it on for a normal wash before you begin to clean the kitchen; wiping over the benches and putting items away back into their original spot. Finally, you slide the cake onto the bottom shelf and close the door. You look towards the time on the microwave and relief washes over you. It’s past 10 o’clock. The dinner seemed to go relatively fast, thankfully.

You return to the dining room to witness everyone starting to stand up and feign disappointment. “Oh no, is it that time? It went too quickly.” You whine, lips naturally pouting. Satoru’s gaze momentarily softens when he looks at you, knowing that you’re relieved; even if you do love family. You follow them through to the lounge and then towards the exit of the apartment. Suguru decides to stay back to give the four of you space. You could hear your mother rambling, not taking in anything she was saying. No offence to her, of course. You’re just a bit tired. There are quick kisses to cheeks and your stepfather is expressing for your mother to hurry up because he doesn’t want to stay up for too long. With final embraces and shoes on, both you and Satoru wave goodbye before closing the door.

You slump against the back of it for a moment, eyes wide and blank as you think back over everything. Every conversation. The tour through the apartment. Your limited affection with Satoru. Nothing… seems to be obvious. The night was a success and even tears of relief glued to your lashes. Satoru’s hand gently rubs your back soothingly, tall body leaning over you as he whispers. “It’s all over, baby. You can relax now—“

You absolutely cannot. Quickly, you move away from his touch and glance nervously towards the lounge room where Suguru is lingering. “Satoru, you know that’s a lie. Keep the act up.” You insist gently, prying his large hand off your shoulder as you move towards the lounge room, lips forcing a polite smile. Satoru follows behind you, trying not to show his amusement. “Right, let me prepare the couch.” You say, turning towards the hallway.

“Actually, Y/N. I think I might use the guestroom if that’s okay. Just so you don’t have to deal with such troubles.” Suguru says lightly and you find yourself frozen on the spot. “You— You mean Satoru’s room? You want to sleep next to Satoru?” You ask, voice straining and laced with jealousy. Only you’re allowed to sleep next to your stepbrother. “No, I mean the guestroom. I assume Satoru will want to sleep with you since you’re both dating.” Suguru finally explains, biting back his laugh that threatens to escape.

Dread crashes down over you and you twist around to face the pair of tall males and Satoru is already laughing, a hand pressing against his toned stomach. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I had to wait until our parents were gone—“ The white-haired male begins to explain through a soft chuckle. He feels guilty for laughing at your shock, but he knows that you’ll find the situation to be funny later on. Satoru is quick to wrap you up in his arms, pulling you against his firm body. He isn’t scared to shower you with affection, even if Suguru just discovered the ultimate secret. Suguru smiles slightly, rubbing the back of his neck and you’re just completely baffled, automatically leaning into your boyfriend. “Did you tell him—?” You ask timidly, fingers curling into the front of Satoru’s button-up shirt.

They both shake their heads. “It was my leg that you were touching… Honestly, I was flattered at first, and won’t deny such thoughts. I looked at you, but you were looking at Satoru and refusing to look away. I just put two and two together.” Suguru explains as gently as he can, not wanting you to feel embarrassed. Too bad you’re instantly flooded with the emotion and bury your face into Satoru’s chest, voice muffled. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry… That’s so embarrassing, I-I just... I just gave us away so easily, Satoru.”

Satoru brings a hand up to stroke the back of your hair, ruffling it up a little. “It’s fine, love. Honestly, I’m glad that Suguru knows and just accepted us. You can just be yourself in front of him now, hm?” Satoru says gently, voice deep and soft. Still, you smack his chest lightly as you pull away, pouting. “You always have your legs out under the table, why did you change!” You whine, lips starting to curl as Satoru barks with laughter, head tilting. “We both have long legs and take turns. It’s been like that since school.”

You sigh heavily, pulling yourself out of Satoru’s arms, although already missing the comfort. One of his hands lingers against your waist. Your face feels hot as you look towards Suguru, who as always, smiles towards you. “I’m so sorry that I touched you like that.” You apologise, voice somewhat small. Suguru gives a light shrug, holding his hands up to show he holds no grudges. “You’re fine. I would say I enjoyed it but your boyfriend would cut my head off.” He says rather slyly as he looks towards Satoru.

Already, Satoru’s lips are pressing together and eyebrows creasing in concern as he tugs you back towards him to wrap his arms possessively around you from behind. Butterflies form in your stomach as your hands gently grip his arm that’s wrapped around your neck, giggling softly. “You may be my best friend, but no way. She’s all mine. I’ll fuck her in front of you if I need to.” Satoru bluntly states and you choke on your saliva from the childishness, though desperately trying to ignore how the butterflies seem to flutter wildly before being burnt up by the fire ignited within you. His possessiveness is so hot. “S-Satoru!” You squeak, bumping into his taller form that continues to cling to you.

Suguru pulls a face at the boldness, though curiosity appears in his gaze that lands on you. It was fleeting before he looked towards his best friend instead. “What are you, some alpha?” Suguru snorts, palm rubbing against his eye. Satoru grins, almost like the Cheshire cat as he rocks side to side, chin resting on top of your head. “Might want to wear earplugs tonight, Suguru. You might hear my beloved stepsister cry out from my fat knot.” He retaliates and your hand briefly covers your face, feeling so hot and flushed. It’s almost embarrassing but, his filthy words always arouse you with such ease. You feel your panties becoming damp under your dress. You really want to go to the bedroom now. Too many hours spent stressing and you just really….

You fake a yawn, nuzzling back into Satoru, still wrapped up in his possessive yet rather loving embrace. He feels so warm. “Very funny, yes— Anyways, I think it’s time we all hit the hay…” You trail off, glancing nervously towards Suguru in hopes of him not seeing right through you. He does, but he’s a nice guy. He smiles warmly, grabbing his backpack that he left by the edge of the couch. “I agree, I’m so thankful I won’t have to hear Satoru’s snores at least. Am I able to use the bathroom to freshen up?” He asks and Satoru is too distracted by you to even be offended by the light insult. His hot gaze is only on you. He could see through the lie from the second you faked a yawn and uttered the first word. “Yeah, go for it. I guess we’ll see you in the morning, Suguru… Thanks, by the way. For accepting our secret.” Satoru murmurs, long fingers gently combing through your hair.

Suguru simply nods. “That’s what friends are for, goodnight. Enjoy your sleep.” He says, emphasising the last word before he walks down the hallway. You turn around to look up at Satoru, his crystal blue eyes meeting yours.

You’re both thinking the same thing. -------------------------------------------------------------------

Finally, in the comfort of the bedroom that you share with your boyfriend; aka stepbrother, you sigh out in relief, already reaching to unzip your dress. Your soft fingertips meet a set of other fingertips that seem far too eager to unzip. Your tiers curl into a fond smile, bunching your hair up to let it be out of the way as Satoru begins to glide the zipper down, taller body leaning down so his lips can press lovingly against your bare shoulder. He’s trailing kisses gently up towards your neck, warm breath fanning across your smooth skin. “I’m so proud of you, baby girl. You did so well tonight. I know it must have been tough.” Satoru whispers, voice sounding raspy. He needs you. Badly.

His praise easily melts you, shimmying out of your dress until it pools around your bare feet. Satoru knows that you’re an absolute sucker for praise and that you often try to chase the wonderful feeling of making him proud. You behave so well for him, no matter the situation and so, Satoru finds himself always proud of you. Still, you’re emotional from having to deal with something so stressful and tears begin to pool, make-up already smearing cause of it. You love your parents, you do. It’s just obvious they can’t know and you hate it so much. You hate that you have to hide your love for your stepbrother.

Satoru isn’t an idiot. Even with your back to him, he can tell that you’re starting to cry and honestly, he’s not surprised. You’ve been so tense for weeks. Ever since it was announced by your parents. You wouldn’t ever relax unless he coaxed you into it or lovingly distracted you. His smile is soft, firm hands on your bare shoulders to move you until you’re facing him. “D-Don’t look at me, I’m getting all gross.” You whine, hand pitifully trying to cover up the fact that black lines from mascara are gliding down your cheeks, mixed with your tears. Small hiccups escape as you try so hard to hide.

“Y/N.” He laughs, completely endeared as his large hands come up to tenderly cup your cheeks, thumbs rubbing at the wet make-up, not caring that he’s smearing it further. “Firstly, I’ve seen you cry so many times since we were teens. Not a new sight for me. Secondly, you’ll always be beautiful and take my breath away every single time.” His voice falls into a whisper, unable to stop himself from leaning down to capture your lips with his own, kissing you with passion. You gasp against his lips and he pours all of his love into the one kiss, hands refusing to part from your cheeks as his lips move slow and hungrily against your own. Your fingers curl into his shirt that’s already half unbuttoned, desperate to pull him flush against you as you return the kiss, your tiers moving in sync with his own.

Neither of you part, becoming so breathless and yet refusing to be the first to pull away. His taller body is leaning into you as he continues to kiss you with loving eagerness. His tongue glides across your lower lip and you happily oblige, parting your lips to allow him to take further control as his wet muscle dominates your mouth. Every passionate kiss will always remind you of your first kiss with Satoru. He rubs his tongue against your own before sliding across every inch of your mouth, eager to claim. He can still taste the sweetness of cream lingering and it causes him to groan softly.

Satoru, addicted to kissing you; found it so difficult to pull away. He presses multiple kisses to your saliva-coated lips before he leans back to exhale air. His crystal blue eyes are clouded with complete desire and you look up at him, eyes full of mutual feeling. He couldn’t help but chuckle softly from your cheeks stained with your make-up, though noticing you’re not crying anymore. He’s thankful for that, even if usually the sight of your tears causes a raging hard-on. “Y/N..” Satoru mumbles, hands caressing along your bare sides and admiring your choice of lingerie. Soft pink lace. He realises it’s hard to have a favourite colour on you when you make every colour seem so perfect.

“Go relax on the bed, I’ll be with you in a moment,” Satoru says, pulling away. Instantly, your hand latches onto the back of his shirt, looking up at him with wide eyes. You don’t want him to go for even a second, that’s how clingy you can get and it’s an absolute weakness of his. “Where are you going, Daddy? I want— I want to touch you. Make you feel good, it’s my turn now.” You insist, briefly thinking about when he was between your legs several hours ago. Satoru’s heart squeezes, easily melting from your cuteness and plants a quick kiss on your cheek. “Just listen to Daddy.” Satoru says, prying your hand off of him as he playfully rolls his eyes. “I’m trying to take care of you, you’ll see.” He finishes.

You pout a little, absolutely hating to be away from your stepbrother, but you can’t resist obeying. Especially since he’d easily put you in your place. Even when he’s feeling sweet and wants to make love. You carefully step out of your dress, grabbing it to rest it on the chair at your dressing table. Not wanting to waste time after you noticed he left to go to the bathroom, you climb onto the king-size bed and crawl to the middle, flopping down. Wait— What is that? You feel something solid beneath you and move to tug the blankets down, eyes widening in shock when you see the spanking spoon hiding beneath the covers and take hold of it, face feeling flushed. “Oh— So that’s where he put it.”

You turn around to look at Satoru who is snickering with amusement, a damp cloth in his hand. “He? You don’t mean…” You trail off, suddenly remembering. Suguru asked to use the bathroom before and oh my god, that means he’s seen this. Satoru’s knees rest against the edge of the mattress, reaching forward to take hold of it with his free hand, smirking from witnessing your shocked expression. “We did well with hiding evidence, Y/N. We just forgot the one small thing.” He says, deliberately dragging the round end of the spoon across your thigh, patting it a few times and you’re whimpering softly, muscles tensing up and hands coming down between your thighs.

Satoru is delighted by your reaction. He knows you tend to enjoy pain by his hands, though you both know the difference between pain for fun or punishment. Context matters, after all. Even if you enjoy a good spanking, you hate to be punished because it means you need to be corrected. The spoon is usually used for the latter. He leans forward to press a kiss to your temple, setting the wooden spoon on his bedside table before he tenderly cups your cheek, bringing the damp cloth up to your face and starting to gently wipe the smeared make-up off. “My good girl, I don’t think tonight calls for pain. Even the fun kind. I just want to make love to you.” He hums softly and you smile softly towards him. “I’ll still rile you up, just saying.” You whisper, fingers playfully walking up his toned thigh, approaching his crotch. He looks down at your hand, gulping quietly.

“Every time we do something is making love, in my eyes. Rough or soft. Loving or mean.” You express, hand reaching the area to cup, giving a light squeeze and your palm starts to rub against it. His breath hitches, managing to wipe the last of the mess from your face and smiles knowingly. “Can’t deny that you’re right, beloved stepsister.” He purrs softly, setting the damp cloth down next to the spoon. Even so, Satoru rather craves to just take time and be gentle tonight since you’ve been stressed. Remind you that everything is okay and it’s all over. Does his fingers twitch occasionally with the urge to be rough? Sure. He’s no idiot and knows he enjoys how pretty you look, and how sweet you sound when it is like that, but you’re just as pretty when it’s not played like that. Just always pretty.

He raises an eyebrow when your hand presses against his firm chest and he follows the pressure until he’s lying down on his back, head against the pillows. “You really love to mention the whole step-sibling thing, don’t you?” You laugh, not particularly denying that you enjoy hearing it. His lips curl to form a playful smile, broad shoulders shrugging as his hand comes up, finger slipping beneath the bra strap. “What can I say, taboo turns us both on. Besides, you know I love you beyond that.” He says, voice sounding rather distracted as his crystal blue eyes refuse to look away from your hands.

With the hint that he gave from tugging on your bra strap, you couldn’t help but giggle softly. He’s so obvious. An impatient man who wants the underwear off so he can properly ‘admire’ you as he regularly tells you. You remember your teenage years when you often wondered if Satoru was a ‘boob man’ or an ‘ass man’. You got your answer on day one when you both first fooled around; he loves both equally. A first for a male, in your opinion. You always heard teenage boys obnoxiously state their preferences, but at age 18 and Satoru hitting 20, you realised just how different your stepbrother is. He appreciates the body as a whole and when it comes to you? You often tease him for being a simp with how he worships you and he doesn’t care. Simply because you’re just as much a simp as he is when it comes to worshipping him in return.

Your hands swiftly unclasp your bra, though slowing down as you pull the straps until both arms are out. Satoru’s stare is hot and heavy, fingers twitching against the blankets. You offer a sweet smile before finally discarding the underwear to reveal your breasts rather confidently. You used to be so timid, but Satoru has taught you to love yourself more. He groans, hands coming up to dramatically drag across his face until his mouth is covered and he’s not looking at just your hands anymore, but your breasts. So soft and pretty looking. Even your nipples seem to already harden from being exposed. “Fuck, I’m so lucky. Suguru must be fuming.” He jokes, prompting you to swat at his chest and laugh.

“Stoooop, Suguru doesn’t see what you see.” You say as you gracefully shift yourself until you’re straddling his lap, not wasting time to teasingly rub your ass against his crotch, feigning innocence as you just act out trying to get into a comfortable position by wiggling. Satoru couldn’t even tell you the truth that Suguru expressed interest in you, far too distracted by the friction of the clothing rubbing against his already hardening cock and the pleasant pressure that is your weight. Satoru just lays there, allowing you to do as you please for the moment; feels so good to have you on his lap after all. He manages to exhale a sigh. It sounds strained. “What if Suguru did see you that way?” He asks breathlessly as your hips continue to roll in small circles, body fluid and graceful. Your hands come down to unbutton the rest of his shirt, noticing the spike of jealousy within the white-haired male. You start to feel giddy again.

“He’s handsome, I had a crush well before you.” You begin and Satoru rolls his eyes and looks off to the side, large hands cupping your bare thighs to give a rough squeeze. A warning. He loves the guy. It’s just that you belong to him and no one is ever going to take you away from him. You grin, utterly endeared by the jealousy and lean down as your hands spread the open shirt, your breasts pressing directly against his naked chest, a hand caressing soothingly along his side. “But I’m not interested in him anymore. My eyes only see Daddy. You’re so hot when you get all jealous.” You whisper, lips hovering over his.

Fuck, he can feel your soft, squishy breasts pressing against him and he only wants more. His strong arms wrap around your waist to keep you flushed against him, nose rubbing against yours. “Prove it to Daddy. Show Daddy how much you love him, stepsis.” He whispers in return and your lips already hungrily press against his, muffling your whines. You waste no time, eager for more and so your lips begin to travel towards his jawline, nipping at the flesh. You’ve been uptight for far too long and finally get to let it all out and relax with your lover, Satoru. Some may think it’s crazy to call passionate sex as relaxing but honestly, that’s what it feels like to you. It can be both thrilling and calm. Calm in the sense that you can just let go and feel good, especially afterwards. Satoru, your amazing partner (stepbrother) may have eaten you out this morning and even made you squirt, but you still felt a bit too stressed cause tonight wasn’t over. Thank goodness it is now.

“Gon’ mark you, Daddy. Can do that now. Girls at work will know to back off— Boys, too.” You grumble lightly, tongue sliding out to teasingly dance across his warm skin and Satoru laughs breathlessly, his hands reaching down to cup your ass cheeks and give a rough squeeze. “Possessive little thing.” He coos, breath hitching as you bite down on the side of his neck to suck harshly and you couldn’t help but moan happily, so delighted to be able to mark him up now. You pull away momentarily to admire the dark purplish bruise that formed, pressing an innocent kiss to it before you move in to form another. And another.

His neck is scattered the various hickeys, also varying in different shades depending on how harshly you went. His cock is throbbing beneath you, pleased by the aching pain he felt during the process. His large hands continue to fondle your ass, squeezing hard to the point of feeling your supple flesh filling up the gaps of his long fingers and it entices him to the point of spanking your ass roughly. You yelp from the jolt of pain that soon forms into a nice tingly feeling in your ass and he gives another spank, nails dragging across the flesh. “Thought you weren’t going to be rough, Daddy.” You tease, wet tongue trailing saliva down his chest. “Your ass is impossible to resist. Your needy cries, too.” He breathes out softly, stopping you from going any further down by tightening his grip.

“Stay still, baby.” He whispers against the top of your head, voice heavy with lust. You lay against him, not daring to disobey anything he commands. You love to please him. As you nuzzle against his hickey-covered neck, you whimper from each hard smack that lands on your ass, feeling the spanks alternate from cheek to cheek. Smack! Your body jerks up against his body as he lands a hard spank, causing you to sob out quietly. The stinging pain feels so good, causing you to crave more. Smack! Harder this time. “Were you really trying to touch me under the table tonight? Maybe you’re just a bit of a slut who wanted to get a reaction out of Suguru. Such a naughty girl.” He teases and you frantically shake your head, hands clinging onto his broad shoulders and breasts squishing against his chest once more. He knows that’s not the case. You’re just so cute to tease and naturally, you’re just so naughty that humiliation drives you further. More eager. He doesn’t relent with the hard smacks until you’re sniffling against his neck and his hand feels far too numb, unable to feel a thing.

“Mm, good girl. That’s enough, I promise.” He says, hands giving your now throbbing ass cheeks a soothing squeeze. You pull away with a small huff and lips naturally pouting, eyes appearing wet. “Can I please just touch you now?” You plead, wanting to focus on him from the beginning. Satoru grins wide, eyes lighting up with excitement as his arms rise until his hands rest ever so casually behind his head. “I can’t resist touching your gorgeous body— smacking it, too.” He pauses, looking at you. Is he too sadistic? He couldn’t help but question. The question is swiftly answered by a reassuring kiss on his lips. You’re masochistic and so you both make a great pair. “Touch me, baby.” Satoru whines out dramatically, snapping you back to reality.

You bite back a smile from how cute he can be, leaning down to press loving kisses along his well-defined abdomen, tongue dragging along the toned lines, nails grazing along his sides. Satoru’s lips latch onto his lower lip as he watches you, crystal blue eyes darkening as he enjoys the slow yet steady show. You’re able to wiggle down now, his hands not stopping you and you pull up for a moment, hovering as eager hands unzip his black slacks and you hook your fingers beneath both the pants and underwear. “Let’s get the annoying stuff out of the way first, shall we?” You hum and Satoru happily obliges by lifting his hips.

With three rough tugs, you drag the clothing down his long legs until you could toss them to the floor, jaw dropping slightly at the beautiful sight of his now free and throbbing cock springing out of the confinements and slapping against his own lower stomach. Never. Never will you get used to the glorious sight of it. So long, curved and has just the right amount of thickness that leaves you for craving it. The pretty protruding veins from the base, up towards the bulbous tip, red and eager for a hand— or mouth. You smile a little, pleased to see it twitch before you. Satoru inhales deeply, half-lidded eyes focusing on you, rather than his cock. You love his cock. A blunt thought to have, but you do. “Babe..” He warns quietly.

You snap back out of your cock thirsty fantasies and drop your body down between his legs, laying comfortably. Satoru was right about buying an oversized bed, it makes the fun hassle-free. “Daddy, you’re so pretty..” You whine, leaning forward to nuzzle your face lovingly against his cock and already, one of his hands behind his head comes around to drag across his face, wondering how he’ll be able to control himself as you take your time enjoying him. Each praise you give to him; whether about his dick or his personality, always inflates his confidence and self-love. He’s peeking between two of his fingers, watching as you continue your loving nuzzle with ‘innocent’ kisses being pressed to his throbbing length.

You smile up at him, long lashes fluttering as you hold your hand out just beneath your chin, keeping your gaze on your stepbrother as your tongue slides you and you allow the drool to slowly seep out of your mouth and drip from your tongue. The saliva pools in your palm and Satoru groans in sexual frustration, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You’re such a slut.” He says lovingly, breath hitching when your fingers finally curl around the thick base of his cock and begin to stroke slowly. Your saliva isn’t the ‘best’ lubricant in the world, but it’s enough to keep your hand from feeling too rough as you slide your hand up and down, wrist twisting with each pump.

“I just love it so much, Daddy. So warm and heavy in my hand. All mine to play with.” You purr, tongue dragging along the length of his cock where your fingertips couldn’t quite meet. You find yourself resting your head against his thigh, eyes focused entirely on his cock as it throbs in your hold as you continue to stroke his length with just so much love. It’s nice to just lay there and admire. Even if his thigh quivers slightly beneath your head and his stomach muscles tense up, trying his hardest to not rush you. How cute. You occasionally dribble out and spit onto your hand to continue with the slow strokes of your hand, enjoying the weight of his heavy cock, thumb rubbing the tip every time your hand slides upwards. You smile from hearing his heavy breathing and voice hitching every so often as your hand squeezes the thickness.

You notice pre-cum starting to bead at the bulbous tip and so you lean forward, hand wet with your saliva sliding down to fondle with his balls, giving a tender squeeze. “Fucking hell, Y/N…” He moans out, long fingers dragging through his white hair to grip on. You mewl softly in response, always loving how your stepbrother curses with your name. It always sounds so sweet. The flat of your tongue presses against the underside at the base before you slowly drag upwards, tracing along one of his veins and tasting the saltiness. Your eyes met his just as you brushed the wet muscle along the tip and moaned in sync with his low ones as you tasted the pre-cum.

“You’re so delicious, wan’ taste you every day.” You express your wish as your tongue playfully swirls around the head of his cock, one hand soothingly stroking his toned thigh as the other continues to fondle and squeeze his balls with just so much love for the older male. “I’ll make you taste me every day, even if it means choking you with my dick, princess.” He sighs heavily, enjoying the slick velvety feeling of your tongue sliding around the leaking tip of his length. You hum in response, his harsh words only fueling your actions and drenching your panties further. You do always feel like some omega in heat around your stepbrother. Unaware of it, you roll your hips against the bed, focusing entirely on Satoru and making him feel good. Nails scrape along his thigh as your hand trails up towards his abdomen, eager to feel him.

It was several minutes of just your tongue swirling and lapping up the pre-cum and you finally wrap your soft lips around the head and suck gently, cheeks hollowing as you begin to bob your mouth nice and slow along the first two inches or so, just savouring the taste of him and length weighing down against your tongue, twitching in your mouth. Your soft moans send vibrations along his lengths and Satoru’s hips buck upwards, causing your mouth to take just a bit extra. To prevent yourself from choking, you keep your jaw slack, bobbing your mouth steadily now, eyes refusing to look away as the white-haired male’s face scrunches up; brows furrowing and lips parting as he grunts out your name.

Your mouth feels good. Too good, even. So warm and wet, inner cheeks rubbing along the sides of his length as your tongue caresses the underside. He notices drool seeping out from the corners of your lips and a breathless laugh escapes. His hand coming to stroke along the top of your head, voice low. “So damn cute, stepsis. Drooling and looking so depraved.” He says as he teasingly pulls on your hair until your scalp aches and you whimper softly. With your jaw relaxed you take more of his delicious length into your mouth to savour on, swallowing around it to tighten your mouth and prompt him to grunt, hips bucking slightly once more from the pleasant tightness of your mouth.

Satoru, being the greedy guy that he is; cups the side of your head, close enough for his fingers to lace together behind your head. You sense what’s to come, knowing your stepbrother very well and whine softly, eyes closing tightly. Instantly, he grinds his cock into your mouth, forcing you to take more and more until your lips are stretched right around the tip of his cock hits the back of your throat. Your loud gags are muffled as his hips thrust roughly, his hands moving your head with ease to meet each movement of his hips, forcing you to take it all.

You’ll never deny the fact that you love him taking complete control and fucking your mouth as he pleases. Slow and deep. Fast and rough. All of it. You’ll take it all cause you’re just as greedy as him. Perfect for each other. His throbbing cock slides down your throat and you swallow helplessly to try and contain yourself from choking too much. You have to rely on breathing heavily through your nose, but even that feels near impossible when he presses on the back of your head firmly so your face is pressed into his lower stomach, nose buried against a neatly shaved area. Saliva smears across your face as he continues to move your head as he pleases, head tilting back as he groans out happily, addicted to the pleasure that surges through him from having your mouth around his cock, nice and snug.

“So— fucking good.” Satoru pants out as your lips drag along his saliva-coated length. He can hear you breathing frantically through your nose and so being the sadistic stepbrother that he is; Satoru yanks your head back down along his cock, leaning up so he can hug your head properly, locking you in place. Your hands weakly grip the blankets, throat tightening around his thickness that pulsates and you try to breathe, but you can’t. Satoru is lovingly suffocating you. Choking you with his length stuffed down your throat and arms embracing your head against him so you can’t move. It sends excitement right down to your core, whimpers muffled as you simply stay there, your head starting to feel light. Satoru is delighted and wrapped up in the pleasure.

“Aw, look at you. My baby sis choking on my cock and enjoying every bit of it. Such a whore for me, aren’t you? Only for me.” He pants heavily, eyes half-lidded as he looks down at the top of your head. His long legs are bending so he’s able to properly hold onto you, feeling your throat muscles hopelessly constrict around his length. Tears burn and nails claw at the blankets, feeling your head starting to pound from the lack of oxygen. Snot threatens to smear on Satoru as you pitifully try to breathe through your nose that’s pressed too tightly against him and it only makes him laugh, endeared by you struggling so desperately. The urge to climax reaches quickly, his stomach clenching and feeling so hot.

Finally, he lets go, fingers wrapping around your hair to guide your head back, lips dragging along his cock until there’s an audible pop, a sharp gasp following afterwards as you’re desperate for air. You feel all woozy and high for a moment as oxygen rushes back to your brain, your heart hammering hard in your chest. Satoru smirks, only being further aroused from how fucked out you already seem to be just from a bit of face-fucking and… well, choking, too. You cough a little, unable to stop the dry-heaving; Satory is relentless when it comes to blowjobs and you thrive off of it. Multiple strings of saliva attach your swollen lips to his cock, breaking when you pull back further and whine, voice raspy. “I lo- agh.. I love your— cock, so much, Daddy.” You manage to splutter out between deep breaths.

Satoru coos, only being reminded of how deeply he loves you, his stepsister. His hands tenderly cup your warm cheeks to pull you in between his legs, feeling your hands resting against his chest. “And I love you on my cock, so much. Whatever hole, I love your holes. I love you.” He whispers, pressing multiple kisses to your lips, deliberately lingering with each kiss despite you still trying to inhale deeply. A little struggle is so cute. His cock still throbs, leaking with pre-cum and your hand travels down between your bodies to wrap your fingers around once more to stroke, biting back a small grin.

“I love you, too.” You sigh happily, watching the way his brows furrow in concentration as your hand strokes so slowly. You both tend to confess your feelings to one another multiple times a day. Never annoying. It’s just like breathing. It feels normal. “Daddy took such good care of me for the past few weeks, especially today. So…” You trail off quietly, letting go of his cock and playfully smearing the saliva across his chiselled abs. It might have just been an excuse to touch them. Satoru slowly lowers himself until he’s lying back down, his heart racing with excitement. He hopes it is what he thinks it is.

You move until you’re sitting comfortably against his cock once more, angling yourself so your slick-covered folds spread across the underside of his length, one hand coming down to tease the bulbous tip as you grind slowly, sliding your dripping cunt along his throbbing erection and he hides his sounds of pleasure by laughing breathlessly. “Don’t wanna use one of my many monstrous-sized condoms?” He asks, voice dripping with playfulness. You haven’t used condoms since basically day two of being together, you went on the pill after the first night of making love. Never missing a day of it. Naturally, the pile of condoms stay like that; as a pile of condoms. Completely forgotten.

“Your stepsis loves being pumped full of her Daddy’s delicious cum.” You tease, noticing the way his eyes glaze over from mentioning the relationship you both keep buried. Both of you are so sinful and some would say have no morals. Neither of you cares. It’s fun to play around with the taboo. It’s even better that Satoru has such a huge Daddy kink. He loves being both for you. As well as your loving boyfriend. “Ah— Is your cock twitching from the reminder of what we are? You’re so naughty.” You mewl sweetly, your clit throbbing from the contact as it rubs along Satoru’s cock, sending tiny jolts of pleasure through your body.

His large hands grip onto your hips, teeth clenching. Satoru is getting impatient, even if it’s so cute seeing you grind against his cock like some bitch in heat. “Babe—“ He grunts out and you only smile, hands spread across his firm pecs as you grind, sliding from the base to the very tip. Finally, you decide to give him what he really wants; what you both want. One hand takes hold of his cock at the base, moving yourself until the leaking tip presses against your entrance.

You begin to lower yourself, breath hitching when the tip of his length pushes past the entrance of your tight hole. “Let me take care of you, Da-ah~.” Your words break apart as a needy moan escapes, sinking further. Your tight walls are forced to stretch right around the thickness of his cock as you continue to sink, face scrunching up as you whimper from the pain mixed with pleasure. It feels so good to be stretched out by his pretty cock. So long and thick, twitching inside of you. Out of instinct, you squeeze around his length and Satoru groans out from finally feeling your absolute tightness around his length. It feels so fucking good to him; to have his cock buried deep in your needy cunt, the warm velvety walls clinging onto him.

You don’t stop until you’re filled up and your ass meets his thighs beneath you. It was a bit of a struggle since he didn’t usually prepare you like usual— You were desperate to just have him inside of you, besides he already spoiled you this morning with his fingers and tongue. There was just a bit of a delay. You pant heavily, hands light on his abdomen as you try to get used to the feeling of being stretched out, always feeling like your beloved stepbrother stretches you out beyond what your pussy is made to take and yet, you always manage. You’re made for him. “Fucking tight..” He breathes out heavily, hand soothingly stroking your thigh.

“My perfect girl, looking so pretty when you’re stuffed with your stepbrother’s cock. Look at you— Always bulging, thanks to me.” He purrs out, the other hand coming up to brush against your lower stomach, teasingly pressing against it where the end of his length is able to make you bulge out slightly and you whimper from the pressure being applied, nails clawing into his warm flesh. “Daddy~.” You mewl softly, lips threatening to drool out saliva as you couldn’t even focus on keeping any part of yourself together. The painful ache of your walls seems to slowly subside, though lingering and you begin to roll your hips.

Your aroused juices just drip out, making a mess across your thighs and his. Not that either of you care. The mess just enhances the excitement. Your eyes are clouded with pleasure mixed with complete love for the white-haired male beneath you and for a moment, neither of you look away from each other; eyes locked. You rock back and forth, inner walls clinging onto his cock as you move, just for a few of the inches. You moan out happily, eagerly taking the pleasure that washes over you with each grind of your hips. “So pretty, so so pretty..” Satoru whispers, one hand gliding up until he cups one of your breasts to give a playful squeeze, coaxing a spill of needy whines out of you. He pinches the hardened bud, twisting it and you cry out, always being so sensitive to any touch he blesses you with.

He grins, eyes wide and alive as he watches you with deep fascination and feeling even more aroused as you begin to bounce. It’s slow and steady, hard enough for skin to slap against skin and leave the flesh tingling. Your breasts follow your bouncing as you move, your velvety walls squishing around his cock and both leaving you breathless for two different reasons. Your walls just squeeze so tightly and drag along every inch of his length. You swear you’re so tight that you can even feel the protruding veins that run along his cock. Thank god for no condom, you couldn’t help but think; thrilled to have him bare inside of you.

“So— Big!” You cry out, lifting yourself up to feel his thickness drag along your walls before you drop yourself back down, trembling from the pleasure that constantly wraps around you as you bounce on his cock. Your feet are flat against the mattress as you move, so desperate to slide up until only his tip is inside of you and then slam back down until he forcefully stretches you out. Your sounds of pleasure only increase in volume, with cute yelps and needy moans leaving your lips. Satoru is in absolute heaven to be able to witness the sight of you bouncing on his cock, hand occasionally slapping your tits to encourage you to go further, panting heavily. Your inner walls, no matter how aroused and wet you are; continue to cling so tightly around his length as you fuck yourself onto his erection.

His brows are furrowed in concentration as he focuses on the pleasure that surges through him, leaving his toes curling and panting heavily as his mouth hangs open. “So fucking good for me, baby. Fuck— You look so hot, feel so hot.” He groans, your wet cunt especially feeling warm as it clenches around him. His hands land on your hips to give a harsh squeeze and you whimper, tears in your eyes. It all just feels like too much already but in a good way. A way that you never want it to stop, you just want to grind your hips and ride his cock like the addicted whore you are for his length.

There’s a manic glint in those crystal blue eyes and Satoru slams his hips up, forcing his throbbing length in until balls deep and you scream out his name in ecstasy, hands weakly pressing against his chest. “A-Ah, ‘Toru! Daddy, feels so—“ Your words are cut off by your sob as he starts jackhammering into your tight pussy, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the air and obnoxious squelches from how wet you are. You didn’t care— Couldn’t care for anything asides from how you’re made for your beloved stepbrother and his cock hammering inside of you. His eyes focus on your dripping cunt, watching with deep fascination as his length rapidly appears and disappears.

The ecstasy continues to surge through you in pulses, each time his length slams up into your tightness, your stomach bulging a little from how deep his long cock goes. He’s taken control entirely and all you can do is sit there— hovering as his fierce grip holds you in place and thighs shaking. Tears spill down your cheeks as you continue to sob out for him. “Daddy! Daddy, ah— fuck!” You wail out happily, eyes rolling upwards as you stare at the ceiling. Your mind feels completely wiped, all thanks to his length that drills into your tightness, cock dripping with your juices and Satoru just feels delirious from it all, especially as your inner walls flutter around his length and clench. He’s grunting with each snap of his hips, nails digging into your hips.

Both of you feel it rapidly approaching as he keeps up the pace. Your breasts even start to ache from the constant bouncing. Blindly, your hands find his to desperately hold onto and ground yourself, gazing down at him with eyes completely clouded over. “You’re so beautiful, baby. All mine, too. Got it? No one will take you away from— fuck, me.” He groans, voice low and breathless. You nod eagerly to his words, tightening your fingers on his hands. “Pl-Please, I wan’ cum, please, Daddy. It feels so— nnn..” You choke on a needy sob, face scrunching up.

You appear so utterly fucked and Satoru finds it beautiful, wishing he could burn the image of your face when you’re stuffed full of his cock into his mind. He tugs you down by your hands until your body is pressed flushed against his own, letting go of your hands to hug around your waist and trapping you against him. “I’m going to come inside of you~. Even if you don’t want it, you won’t stop me.” He purrs against your ear and you whimper softly. You want him to pump you full every time. He pulls his hips back until only the tip is in, lips brushing against your jawline. “Let go, stepsis.” Satoru whispers before he slams back into your tight core, groaning as he can never get used to your soft squishy walls clinging onto his cock.

You cry out from the sudden rough thrust and he continues. Thrust, after thrust. The final one, his cock sliding into you and you completely let go as he told you to. Your body trembles hard against his own, face scrunching up and your eyes closing tightly despite the tears of pleasure they spill and you bite down hard on his shoulder to try and muffle the sounds. His long fingers wrap around your hair to tug back gently, pulling your mouth off of him. “Don’t silen— fuck..” He grunts out as your walls repeatedly squeeze around him and his orgasm rapidly approached until he’s coming inside of you, his cock throbbing hard as strings of sticky white cum pumps inside of you. Satoru has always had a large amount to spill and so you feel so full as he spills it all inside of you, barely moving his cock. He’s panting heavily as your filthy cries continue to escape your swollen lips, clinging onto his body so desperately as if you’re afraid you’ll fall if you don’t.

The high is beyond everything else, like usual when it’s with Satoru. All you can see are stars. Mind blank and lips parted, your clit pulsing through the orgasm. Your body still trembles and despite feeling his own perfect high from the love-making, Satoru’s hand soothingly rubs along your back, head refusing to leave the pillow. “Ah…” You exhale out, finally feeling your body calming down. Eventually, you start to giggle softly, elated from just having sex with your stepbrother. Satoru smiles faintly, amused by the giggles and keeps his strong arms wrapped around you.

“What are you so giggly about?” He asks, voice raspy. You shake your head and snuggle against the side of his neck, refusing to move. “Just got a good reward, that’s all.” You joke lightly and Satoru snorts, knowing full well that he would have been intimate with you - whether tonight went right or wrong. “My good girl.” He praises sweetly, voice laced with playfulness. You tilt your head to look up at him, eyes full of complete love. He shifts his head a little, crystal blue eyes meeting yours. Your hand comes up to brush strands of white hair out of his eyes.

“I refuse to pull out, by the way. Give me some cock-warming.” He demands lightly, lips naturally pouting. You grin a little and press a kiss to his lips. Multiple times. “You know how much I love to cock-warm you, stepbrother.” You purr, resting back against him. Satoru couldn’t deny it. It feels good, having his cock just surrounded by this lovely warmth and slick-covered walls clinging onto him. He knows he’ll have to pull out eventually so you both can clean up but… just for a bit, he’ll enjoy this. Satoru loves it when you lay on top of him, your weight against him offering him comfort.

“I love you, Y/N. I really am proud of you. I know it was stressful and it probably looked like it didn’t faze me at all, but it did. I’m relieved we both got through it all.” Satoru says, thumbs gently caressing your bare back. You smile softly. Of course, he was stressed out, too. Satoru just kept himself together through the stress so that you could rely on him. Your stepbrother… really is so wonderful. Best step-sibling you could ask for and especially the best lover. “I love you, too. Proud of you, too. You know that, right? Always proud.” You respond, nuzzling into him. There’s a brief pause between you both before you remember something. “I hope Suguru couldn’t hear us..” You mumble, cheeks feeling hot.

“I doubt he could hear me, but he definitely heard you. You’re fucking loud, babe.” He jokes and you gasp, lightly smacking his shoulder. “I am not!” You whine and Satoru only chuckles, tightening his hold. “You are, but you’re my loud girl. All mine.” He huffs, biting your bare shoulder. You roll your eyes playfully, but smile and rest your head against his shoulder once more.

Whatever.

You’re happy to be loud when it comes to your stepbrother.

[bwabys-scenarios]

Hi bwaby ~ I’m new to your page and I love your yandere posts ^^ I’m reading the ones you’ve written for Kurapika. I saw your requests were open.

How do you think hxh yanderes would respond to their captive s/o having a panic/anxiety attacks when their captor tries to get intimate? How would they go about that?

🖤 ur work 🖤🖤🖤 thnx

Yandere!HXH respond to you panicking during intimacy

!!REBLOGS APPRECIATED!!

warnings: dubcon, panic attack, bad aftercare, forced cuddling, slight manipulation/coercion with Chrollo(it backfires), vomit in Chrollo’s, Feitan is emotionally distant, Kurapika is unstable

A/N: just a little note that none of my yanderes will ever rape the reader. I just include dubious consent because being captive blurs the lines of consent. Can you really consent when you’re captive? I don’t know, so I include it just in case, even though in my eyes reader is always consenting during these acts. I’m not comfortable with writing out rape, so this situation is the farthest I go.

characters included: Kurapika, Leorio, Chrollo, Feitan, Illumi

Yandere NSFW: @lightshowerrr @jungtoast @nenggie @aliceattheart @pannacottababy

‼️If you want to be added to the taglist, please check out the taglist information then comment what you want to be added to! Make sure you have your age in your bio and that your blog can be tagged/mentioned!‼️

Kurapika

First of all, Kurapika is VERY hesitant to initiate any intimacy after he takes you away. He wants you to get used to your captivity before he starts anything.

Kurapika is also the only yandere on this list that won’t be overly pushy in terms of physical contact most if the time, and honestly he’s okay if you never love him again… even if he really wants you to love him and give him lots of affection. He knows he did something unforgivable by taking you away from your life, and he’s willing to be hated by you if it means you’ll be safe.

Now, when you do eventually initiate some kind of intimacy he is over the moon. He would do anything for you, desperate to please you and make the experience as good as possible. Kurapika wants your love, your physical touch, and he wants it willingly.

So when he initiates, kissing along your neck with his hand gently rubbing your clothed cunt, he stops immediately when you start to panic. “My angel? Are you okay?”

He’s quick to pull away and give you space. His hands shake and he feels guilt and panic rise in his own chest. Did he just ruin all of the progress the two of you had?

But you calm down after a little, and lean against him. “I… I’m sorry, I just… I got really anxious.”

He’s quick to wrap his arms around you, tentatively smoothing out your hair. “Don’t apologize… shh, just relax. We don’t have to do anything.”

Kurapika spends the rest of the night just a bit unstable, terrified that he’ll do something to upset you. He just loves you so much and he doesn’t want to lose your love and affection when he just got it back. The next day he makes sure to pamper you more than usual, and he’s almost a bit clingy… as if he’s scared he’ll lose you.

Leorio

He’s pretty handsy, though most of his touches are just affectionate in nature. When you cuddle, he has his hand in your ass or thigh, kneading at the soft flesh.

Leorio likes to have you in his lap as often as possible, where he can move you as he pleases as cover you in kisses as he holds you as close as possible.

He’s eager to get back to sex after he takes you, though he won’t push… too much. Leorio is just super clingy and you’re already sitting pretty on his lap, the only thing separating you from his is that pretty skirt you’re wearing!

It was a normal day, with you sitting in his lap after he tugged you his way. But this time, instead of the usual soft squish he’d give your thigh or kisses to your cheek or the top of your head, Leorio started moving you back and forth against the bulge firming in his pants.

You instantly froze, feeling his warm breath on your neck. When you began to panic and cry, Leorio paused for a moment. “Princess? Something wrong?”

When you started to struggle, he gently set you down. The air was thick and heavy with tension and awkward energy. He scratched the back of his neck, his boner gone. “You alright?”

You shook your head. “I… I don’t want to, Leorio… I’m scared…”

He felt his heart break a little, but he was quick to reach out and gently ruffle your hair. “Don’t be scared… I won’t… do anything to you that you don’t want…”

But it felt a bit hypocritical, considering he did steal you from your old life against your will. Leorio had standards though, and one of those was not assaulting people.

That night, he was way less clingy than usual, giving you some space and time to process things… but you joined him in bed for snuggles later.

Chrollo

He kept telling you he wanted to make your first time with him special, that he’d buy you flowers and pretty lingerie to wear. He even suggested getting a nicer hotel than usual, which was shocking because the hotels you usually stayed in with him were beyond luxurious.

So when the special night came, he took you out to a fancy dinner, letting you order whatever you wanted. You had become very complacent, accepting the fact you’d never be able to escape him… not even in death.

So you are your food, and you bathed before putting on the set of lingerie he surely paid a high price for, and sat on the bed, waiting for him to get back from a meeting with some phantom troupe members that were in town.

The wait already had you anxious, but the way he kept going on and on about how perfect he made everything and how much effort he put into this night put a lot of pressure on you to do well.

And that was on purpose. He wanted you to know just how much he had done for you… how much he craved and adored you. With him, you would be endlessly pampered and loved… all you had to do was be a good girl and do as he said.

So by the time he got back, you were already anxiously fidgeting with your lacy black lingerie, biting your lip.

Now… he didn’t want to make you anxious, just a little nervous. He thought it would be cute to see you squeak like a timid little mouse as he took you… he didn’t want you to stiffly lie down and tear up when he unbuttoned his shirt.

And he hadn’t expected you to throw up from the stress of it all.

He felt a bit guilty, you were crying and muttering apologies as he called for room service, trying to clean it up yourself. Had he instilled that much fear in you that you shook in terror at the thought of upsetting you? That’s not what Chrollo wanted… despite his sly and manipulative nature, he wanted you to genuinely love him and see him as someone that protected and took care of you.

So once you calmed down a little, he pulled you in and snuggled you, kissing the top of your head. “I..: apologize. We’ll do this at your pace.”

You couldn’t really break away from his grip… and you didn’t want to anger him, so you let him hold you close and gently rock you.

Feitan

Feitan already is absolute garbage with intimacy, so it’s rare he’ll initiate anything. He’s both insecure and emotionally distant, but also longs for your affection and physical touch.

But he also HATES physical touch… so being his darling is a confusing experience where you’re constantly walking on eggshells.

The rare instances when he tries to be intimate with you, you almost leap with joy. He’s the only other human you have physical contact with, and you’ve almost gone crazy without touch and affection.

He’s very insecure and sensitive to rejection, so when he touches you, even if it’s just subpar, you praise him endlessly with soft whimpers and moans. He’s pretty skilled with his fingers considering he was a virgin before he met you.

So when he’s got his hands on your hips and ready to push his cock into your pretty pussy, instead of the usual happy whines you make… you instead whimper and shy away from him.

He’s tortured many people, so he can recognize the signs of a panic attack easily. You don’t know what came over you, but you just started to break down, crying and rocking yourself.

Feitan froze up, not knowing what to do. He’s not used to comforting others, and he already feels the harsh sting of rejection from your reaction. Was he that bad?

But… he’s able to push that away. He puts a blanket over your naked form and gently rubs your back while looking the other way.

“… don’t have to. Just say when don’t want it.”

And that’s all you get. He doesn’t kiss away your tears or clean you up… but it’s a big step forward. For Feitan, comforting another human being is hard, so the fact he’s trying for you proves that you mean something to him.

[tteokdoroki]

ideal valentines gift would be a stuffed plushie ♡ can I swipe sweet on megumi ! ೀ

⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚⟡. — MEGUMI FUSHIGURO. swipe sweet: mailbox.

about. boom, it’s a match! for your first valentines day apart; you send a piece of yourself back home to your boyfriend, megumi ( 0.8K ).

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! sfw, fluff, characters aged up to 20s, college!au long distance relationships, established relationships, afab!reader.

・:〃⤥ bumble date, swipe right event !

“did you get it?” 

“get what?” 

“my gift! that’s why i called you dummy,” you say as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. megumi can’t help but smile to himself, basking in the impatience that coats your dulcet voice as rattles down the line. “i want you to open it while we’re on the phone together.” 

a box had arrived for megumi fushiguro this morning, february fourteenth, at the precise time of eight am. the time he usually wakes up to start his day. gojo had brought him the box with a teasing smile, graciously reminding his junior of the note on top — written by your hand with a glitter pen and stuck to the box with pink washi tape. 

‘do not open until tonight.’ it had read. 

with the distance between you both, tonight would mean the morning for you — and though it wasn’t ideal, it was the only way yourself and megumi would be able to spend Valentine’s Day together. you were studying abroad for a year, leaving your boyfriend behind and despite the tears and shifty internet connection — you’d made it work so far. 

just that this year, you wouldn’t be there in person to give your broody, moody boyfriend his valentine. 

so you settle with an early-morning-late-night phone call, where you can listen to megumi open your present to him after escaping the clutches of gojo for the day. 

“you’re sweet, you know that?” megumi tells you, quiet but earnest, tucking the phone between his shoulder and his ear to keep it steady. his large hands and slender fingers dance over the taped edge of the cardboard box at the centre of his bed  — finding that little uptick of plastic to rip at and pull the whole thing open. “what is it?” 

you scoff on the other end, the sound sends shivers down megumi’s spine. he misses you. “just open it dummy, then you’ll find out.” 

pushing his tongue into his cheek, he laughs airly into the phone and your heart rate quickens in response. “watch your mouth,” the man warns you softly, with no malice or trace of a threat in his voice. your giggling overlays the sound of tearing cardboard and rustling packing paper. 

“or what? we both know that if i go quiet you’ll miss me way too much, megs.” 

“don’t get ahead of yourself —“ megumi’s end of the line goes quiet. a comfortable static crackling through your speakers as you busy yourself with other things, waiting for his reaction to your special shipment from abroad. “i thought we said no gifts.” he deflects, bringing a fond smile to your face. as stoic as he may sound, the dark haired man is grateful that you’re not with him in person. that way you can’t see the way his face crumples and his lips fight to twitch with emotion. fushiguro isn’t the type of person to admit that he misses someone, especially you. “you didn’t have to…” 

but oh does he miss you. that sense of longing hits him with the force of a tsunami, causing his knees to buckle and for him to forcefully sit down on the edge of the bed. megumi thumbs your gift to him — the very first stuffed animal he’d ever won you on one of your very first dates at the beginning of your relationship. 

it’s white fluffy ears and red checked bow tie carry your scent, as if you’d held the bear tight before sending it across oceans to fushiguro. his heart lurches at the memory of you packing the little bear to take with you because you would miss your boyfriend and his closeness.

now he’s the one missing you, and that special bear has made it back to him. 

“i didn’t,” you hum at the same time that megumi lays back on his bed — holding the soft toy to his chest. your voice stays low, uses gentle affectionate tones and he feels as though you’re right there with him. whispering your love into his ear while you jay beside him. “but i’ve been gone for half a year, so i figured you’d hold onto the little guy for me for the other half. you know, until i get back and you don’t have to miss me anymore.” 

“you’re full of yourself,” fushiguro states, nose tucked into the white fluffy fur of your teddy bear. he inhales the scent of your sugary perfume and relaxes. “‘m pretty sure you miss me more than i miss you…but, uh, thank you.” 

“thank you, megs, for waiting for me.” 

megumi closes his eyes and pictures the day you get back, and the day that he can finally return the plushie to you. “there’s not long now,” he rasps just before the clock strikes midnight for him. “happy valentine’s day, baby. i…i love you.” 

“happy valentine’s.” comes your doting whisper. “i love you right back.” 

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[shadowfoxsilver]

Some tips and tricks on how to spot scam accounts in general. This isn’t a detailed explanation as I have more info on my other blog but here is some general things to go by and what to look out for overall.

The pinned post is only a few days old or even a few hours old. The text may occasionally be multicolored for the link.

The ask they sent you seems catered to a specific issue or event and looks very odd if you read it throughly. Text might seem out of place or make no sense at all by a health standpoint.

They sent you an ask after following you and have no prior interactions and isn’t someone you’ve met before. This is usually prompted when interacting with a trending post or sharing a post related to certain topics.

The blog doesn’t have very many posts. It’s usually limited to a few posts from a trending tag, a popular topic, or catered to pass at a simple glance if you don’t scroll far enough down. Most posts are made the same time as the pinned and shared seconds apart.

Even if your bio says no aid asks, the account will send you one anyway because they don’t read or don’t care they just want your money and will keep spamming asks until you share the post or block them.

Sometimes the same ask is sent from multiple accounts all using the same story and setting as the account that sent it to you at a different time. Any errors in the text don’t get fixed and it’s usually a quick way it’s a scam.

The accounts usually base their blogs overall theme around whatever is going on at that moment more often then anything else.

Sometimes the ask is about sharing their pet aid post. Any images used may be stolen off somewhere else so it’s advised to ask them questions back and see what they can tell you and if it matches.

On occasion they’ll say to answer privately because they don’t want anyone else to see the ask.

In general, most strangers asking you for money in your inbox found you from searching tags and you need to check and ensure their being honest as scammers unfortunately exist. Not everyone asking for money is a scammer! Just do your research.

[romana-after-dark]

Dead Dove December 2024

Hello everyone! This December I’m hosting a multi-fandom event that I’m calling, Dead Dove December! From 12/01/2024 - 12/31/2024 I’m encouraging others to create something that expresses their deepest and (most importantly) darkest desires. I will be reblogging all pieces of art or fanfiction, and will post a masterlist in January. or whenever i get around to it. i have not even done the pride masterlist bc I'm a disaster! But most importantly this will be for funsies.

I hosted this last year with just oscar/pedro Characters but Logan is my special guy so he's here now too <3

Details below the cut…

What is Dead Dove Do Not Eat?

Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, or DDDNE has its origins in one of my comfort shows!

The phrase comes from a meme referencing the 2003 Arrested Development episode "Top Banana", in which Michael Bluth opens a paper bag labeled "DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT" and, upon discovering that there is a dead dove inside the bag, says, deadpan, "I don't know what I expected." - fanlore.org

In short, what you see in the tags is what you should expect to see in the fic. This can apply for any type of fic, including the fluffy ones, but it’s usually associated with darker themes. That being said, this is your warning that this is a DARK THEMED EVENT. If you aren’t comfortable with darker topics like non-con, excessive violence, blood/gore, death, toxic relationships, 18+ age gaps, and more, then I encourage you not to participate in this event.

How to Participate

For the month of December, post your Dead Dove fanfiction or fan art on your blog. Use the tag #deaddovedecemeber2024 and tag me. You can also send a link via ask or DM if you like! I will not be posting anything for you, just reblogging and linking. At the end of December I will post a masterlist with links to everyone’s works! Side Note - Since Tumblr doesn’t really allow for NSFW art, you can post your work on Twitter or any other site that allows it and just send me that link so I can add it to the masterlist.

Rules

You MUST be 18+ to participate. I will be checking your blog/social media to be sure. Please make sure your age is easy to find. If I find that you’re a minor or if your age isn’t readily present I will be blocking you and you will be unable to participate. You can just add that you are over 18 if you don’t want your age out on the internet. As the creator and promotor of this event, I need to know I’m not interacting with minors given the nature of this event.

The work MUST be dark in some way. There’s no limit to how dark your work needs to be or can be, but it needs to contain some sort of dark theme in order to qualify. If non con isn’t your thing, dub con via stockholm syndrome or brainwash can let you write a more comfortable scene while still remaining dark. Fics and art do not necessarily need to be NSFW. last year a friend even did cnc, where it was seemingly dark but then ended with it was Marc and reader ding a scene. Dark reader or oc is an absolute yes.

Your work MUST have an Oscar Isaac, Hugh Jackman, or Pedro Pascal Character. It can be x reader, x oc,xcanon character, crosoversec. If you want Joel Miller fucking the ghoul from Fallout (or both of them fucking a reader)you can even though Eddie doesn't exist in any Oscar Pedro Hugh content. If you want Marc and Logan to fuck, go nuts. Got a series you're already writing, and wanna submit a dark chapter or a dark Au to it? That's fine too! We're pretty open here. No rpf.

Do NOT post anything before 12/01/2024. I will not count submissions prior to that date or after 12/31/2024. Masterlsit will be posted in January.

Your work MUST contain the proper tags. I won’t police how detailed your tags should be, but, for instance, if your work contains non-con, and you didn’t tag non-con then your work will not qualify. Please be inclusive in your writing where you can, but aware of POC queer and disabled people.

You may submit no more than two (2) pieces. This can include a fanfic and fanart, two fanfics or two fanarts. This is to allow someone to write a piece and make a work of art to accompany it. You can also work with another creator together.

I’m not going to yuck someone’s yum, but there are some things I’m just personally not comfortable with and since I’ll be reading/viewing/promoting all of these, I have a few things not allowed in the event. The list of what’s NOT allowed is shorter than the list of what IS allowed so here’s a list of the things that will NOT be tolerated in this event:

No underage/aged up minor content - To clarify, this includes things popular ships like - TLOU 1 or "Show Ellie" x Joel or Miguel O’Hara X Gwen Stacy. No "ageing up" minors for the purpose of a fic.

No Bestiality - To clarify, monsterfucking does NOT count as bestiality (at least to me). For example, werewolves, venom, Khonshu, e.t.c. are all allowed.

No Real person fanfiction. Can’t include Oscar, Pedro, or Hugh. This is not a moral judgement or me looking down just not in my comfort zone

No incest - To clarify, step-sibling/step-parent relationships are permitted as long as everyone is 18+. Different age of consent in your state or country does not apply here, and frankly I'd prefer 21+ but I know there are younger people than me who write so I'm not gonna say you gotta write like that. Selfcest relationships are also allowed (like Moon Knight or Miguel with his alternate self, e.t.c.).

No necro/snuff. Plain and simple.

I have final say in what I want to promote. Is TLOU 2 Ellie an adult and not technically Joel's ctual kid? Yes. technically it fits all the rules but it gives me the ick so I'm not gonna accept it. I cannot possibly prepare for all scenarios, and i want to just be able to have fun here with yall.

If you’re unsure if something is allowed or not, you can send me a DM or an ask for clarification prior to posting.

You can use any prompts you want or none, you aren’t tied to any one idea but here are some to get the ideas flowing if you need them!

Also, you can absolutely use a fic to inspire your art, or art to inspire a fic! Your inspiration piece, whether yours or someone else’s does not have to be from December, but you MUST obtain permission from the original creator before I promote your work. Most creators are happy when their work inspires others, and all my fics are open to being used for inspiration, but please reach out to the creator first.

I’m very excited! This is my second year hosting this an I've hosted other events by myself or with friends so I'm happy to keep going, this time with Hugh Jackman bc i can't get Logan out of my head.

Dividers and header made by the amazing @melodygatesauthor

Please consider reblogging to spread the word!

I don't reall know many people in the logan/hugh jackman fandom so I'd love if this was an oppritunity to get to know yall too!

Dark prompt list to come, also check out #deaddovedecember2023 to see what last year had!

[admirationandromantics]

Keeping Warm

Another request, thank you so much. Again, reminding people that these usually take some time!! I loved the concept of this one, and believe me when I say that I love to write smut (blog is 18+ minors get away). It's not exactly like the request, but I still hope you like it.

And Merry Christmas and happy holidays! Not gonna be active today, so please enjoy this one and send requests if you want me to take a look at them later. Have a nice day everyone <3

Basically, reader comes to the lodge with Josh a day earlier to set everything up, and they have to get the guest cabin ready. Snow storm, they're snowed in and have to keep warm (you can imagine where this goes).

Word count: 3,3k (Unedited)

i absolutely adore your work, especially the drugged chocolate ones was such a trip!! i was hoping if you could write about josh and reader being stuck in a snow storm. being stuck somewhere, a car or a small cabin (whatever works for you!) and having to have sex for warmth. i know this request is kind of silly but i could totally imagine josh asking this just to be funny and being shocked that reader agrees to do it.😭 (@dissolvedprincess)

“Should we go and set up the guest cabin for Emily and Mike?” I ask, fluffing the last pillow on the sofa. 

“Are we done here?” Josh comes into the room, looking around for any imperfections. Everything is cleaned, changed and heated up. I take it all in, the coziness of the lodge is like no other. It is perfect. 

“Yes we are, don’t you think?”

He comes up behind me, seeing everything from my perspective. 

“Yeah, looks great, guest cabin next”

We take our jackets, not bothering with extra sweaters and outerwear. We aren’t going to be long, just change the sheets, check if there’s firewood and do a quick cleanup. 

Everyone is arriving at the lodge tomorrow night, and I volunteered to come with Josh to prepare for it. The weekend was going to be awesome. Drinking, dancing and talking. I do have an ulterior motive to the kindness I’m paying him. Usually he does these things himself, but by coming with him, we could get some alone time. Not that it would lead to anything, either way, I enjoy his company. 

We go outside, the snow-filled wind immediately hitting us. I knew it was brewing up for a storm, but I didn’t expect it to come so early. I look over at him, and he has his hand in the air, reaching out for me. I grab it, holding firm so I don’t lose him. We can barely see, barely open our eyes to follow the path before us. 

He leads me down, an occasional swing to the side and a little hill here and there. We walk up a couple of stairs when we suddenly hear a loud wolf’s howl. Fucking hell, was this mountain trying to kill us? Luckily, he’s basically grown up here, and knows by heart the way. I finally glimpse the little cabin in the distance, dark and empty. I collect my last strength, one hand still in his and the other in my pocket to keep its warmth. There’s a bunch of snow in front of the door, but he kicks a little away, as if that’s going to help. Hands go in his pocket, finding the keys. He fumbles with them, finally finding the right one and unlocking the door. He struggles to open it, the snow going too high. I try to help him, using my hands to mow as much of the white coldness away that I can. It finally opens, just enough that one of us can press through at a time. I go first, letting him hold the door open. He quickly follows, squeezing his body through the tight space. 

As the door closes, a blissful silence falls over us. The only sound being the wind howling outside, slamming against the wood walls. I look around the cabin. It’s dark and cold, probably dusty as well. 

“Fuck, what a weather” he exclaims relieved, taking a deep breath and going straight for the bedroom. I follow suit, helping him find new sheets, organising, cleaning stuff away, and sweeping the floor. We share one lamp, moving from room to room as we do the tasks. 

“You know, it was great having someone up here with me this year” 

“Don’t worry about it, give me a treat and I’ll come next year as well”

“You’re that easy?”

“In this area, yes”

He laughs at my response, and I sit down on the couch, finally being able to relax a bit. He sits down beside me, legs touching as he makes himself comfortable. I look over, noticing that his gaze is already on me. Eyes move up and down, taking in every inch of me as I’m laid out on the couch. 

“Staring a bit much are we, Washington?” 

“Can’t help myself”

“I mean, if I was wearing a bikini and sitting in a hot tub, I’d be flattered. But you’re literally looking at wool and a massive jacket” 

“Hey, I know what I’m into, you don’t”

I smile, the playfulness of it all getting to me. 

“I don’t know what you’re into or what I’m into?” 

“The first one you know” 

“That you’re into wool and big jackets” 

“Like thinking about what’s underneath” 

“Good play Josh”

I laugh, standing up and taking a last lap around the cabin. The bedroom’s good, the kitchen’s good and the living room’s great. 

“I think we’re good to go back” 

He stands up as well, grabbing his knees and grunting like an old man. He takes a quick look around, being satisfied with the result. 

“You’re right, it’s starting to get cold” 

We go to the door, and he tries pushing it open. It doesn’t budge. He tries again, putting more force into it than last time. It still doesn’t open. He keeps trying, and I move over to the window to look outside. We’ve been in too long, and the snow is now reaching up to our waists, the storm still going strong. 

“Josh, I don’t think we’ll be able to get out” 

He moves to my side, seeing the snow balling on. 

“Windows” He comments, eyes widening in realisation, glad for the solution he conjured. We try to open it, but to no avail. We try the other one as well, but they’re both frozen shut. 

“Shit, shit, shit” 

“Do you have your phone?”

I reach in my pockets, making myself aware that I left it back at the lodge. He hums, trying to think. 

“Okay, I think I’ll pass sometime during the night, right?”

“I believe so” I try to stay hopeful, even with our clothes, the cabin was freezing. 

“Hey Josh, how about we start a fire?” 

He answers by moving over to the fireplace, sitting down and giving a loud sigh. What was the problem now? 

“Out of firewood” 

“You’re joking” 

“I wish I was” 

I whine out loud. What the hell were we gonna do? The only way out is blocked. Even if we manage to remove some of the snow, the storm would replace it easily, leading to us being exhausted and frozen. 

He walks over, hands going to either side of me and holding tight. I look up, finding his eyes oddly comforting, though being anxious himself. I take a deep breath, meeting his gaze before leaning on him, burying my head in the crook of his neck. I wasn’t going to be so shameless to sniff him, but my body listens before I think. Like warmth and fire, how ironic. 

“Listen, this is going to be great” 

I move away, rolling my eyes and giving him a ‘oh, really’-sarcastic look. He smiles, hands gripping even harder and moving up and down, warming me up. 

“It is! Look, we’ve been cleaning and preparing all day, now we’ll relax, talk and just enjoy the night” 

“Josh, it’s freezing” 

“We have each other. At least I didn’t send you here on your own” He laughs, a playful glint in his eyes. 

“Would you?” 

“Nah, I wouldn’t” 

I sit down on the couch, and he goes into the bedroom to get the covers and some more blankets. We get cozy, sitting beside each other in front of the cold fireplace and telling stories. We talk about Chris and Ashley, as well as Mike and Emily. 

“You have noticed the tension between Jess, Emily and your sister, right?” 

“Who hasn't?” 

We go into detail about our lives, and just now, I realise how little I actually know about him. I haven’t gone beyond surface level, which is partly his fault because of the fake persona he always displays, but still…

“Wait, you had a thing for me?” 

My eyes widen at the realisation, a book which I could never imagine was opened. He once liked me. He thought about me, and felt a certain way. 

“Well, had and had… But, you know”

“Yeah, would be a bit weird for the others, don’t you think?”

“Not as weird as Mike’s triangle-drama” he states, laughing at the man. 

“Isn’t it technically a quadruple-drama?” 

“Wouldn’t that be a foursome?” I think for a minute, intrigued by the affairs. I could be, I bet Mike would love it, but I don’t think that’s the right term. 

“No, that’s just sexual, this is just drama” 

“Speaking of sex and sexual appeal…” Josh starts, and I can help but snort. How the conversation has turned. I never imagined myself talking about this, with him, here. 

“Was all this a plot just to make me tell you this?” 

“Maybe” he answers, a playful smirk on his lips. He loves the direction this is going, he’s intrigued, interested. Of course he is. It’s freaking Josh Washington. 

“Okay then, let me tell you. If we had a fire here, I might do it right here” 

“Really?” 

“Wouldn’t be the first time” 

His eyes widens in surprise, brows furrowing in confusion. Oh, it sounds like I’ve done it ‘here’ before, which is absolutely not what I meant 

“You mean that time you and Sam shared this cabin…”

“No, no! Sorry, I worded that wrong. I just meant to say that fire in itself is a bit of a vibe, mood lighting and all” 

“Ohhh, yeah” 

“Not that I’ve done it here, I’ve never had sex on a mountain before”

“You don’t say” his tone is different, something darkly curious in it. I smile at him, aware that I’ve shared a bunch and he hasn’t shared anything. 

“I do, have you?” 

He pauses, looking at the imaginary fire we’ve constructed, keeping us warm. None of us are, which is why we’re automatically sliding closer and closer. We can’t help it, it’s just instinct at this point. 

“No I have not” 

“I’m surprised” 

“What, why?” 

“Well, bring a girl up to a mountain, your secluded beautiful bachelor pad. Who knows what might happen” 

“Are you saying we should…” 

“You wish Washington” 

He puts his hands up in defeat, grinning at my smiling face. I’ve never connected with him this way before. There’s something different about it, as if everything happening is supposed to. We’re supposed to be trapped here, in the ice cold cabin, fighting for warmth together. 

“Maybe I do” 

I laugh, thinking back on all the things I’ve imagined before. I know I have a dirty mind, but when my thoughts are filled with this man, I can’t help myself. I lean my head against his chest, pulling all the layers over us as I close my eyes. 

“Let me know when the storm is over” 

“You know you should never sleep in situations like these” 

“You’re here, I’ll be okay” 

***

I wake up shivering. The wind is still howling outside, and the room is icy. Josh has his eyes closed, probably sleeping. 

“Psst, Josh” I whisper, my body vibrating as I speak. He opens his eyes, body suddenly aware of the cold air surrounding him. 

“Shit, it’s cold” 

“Should we try to get back to the lodge?” I propose, breathing coming in quick and fast. This was not good. We’re literally going to get hypothermia if we keep like this. He stands up, arms around himself as he looks out the window. 

“It has calmed a bit, but seeing our condition, we’ll not be able to get all the snow away” 

“Fuck” I shutter, pressing the covers harder on me as if it’s going to work. He sits down beside me again, starting to remove his clothing. My mouth opens as he keeps going. 

“What the hell are you doing?” 

“Body heat, take your clothes off” 

“You know the first factor that you have hypothermia is that you want to remove your clothing?” I add, the idea being odd. I know it’s a legit thing, but at this point, the covers seem like the best options. 

“So, I guess you are not reason enough?”

“If I wasn’t freezing to death, I would laugh at that” 

He finally reveals himself, taking the last shirt off before moving to his pants. I shake my head, what am I going to do? 

“What are you waiting for, I’m going to freeze to death alone and you have to wait here for backup with my dead corpse” 

I oblige, starting to take off my clothes. The jacket, the sweater, the shirt… 

“How much am I taking off?” 

“As much as possible” 

“Josh, is it really necessary t-” 

“Oh, fuck it” he exclaims, taking hold of my pants and dragging them off, leaving me only in my underwear. He’s quick to lay down, pulling me on top of him and the covers over us. I almost faint from the warmth. His chest is hot, heart beating rapidly as his cold hands run over my naked back. Our legs tangled together, his crotch by mine as I try not to think about our position. I do my best to adjust my breathing, calming myself and forcing my brain to stop the conjuring of dirty images. The silence is deafening, and I ask the only appropriate question that comes to mind. 

“Why shouldn’t you sleep in situations like these?” 

“What?” 

“I know we shouldn’t, but why?” 

His hand keeps drawing circles on my back, occasionally touching the hem of my bra. 

“Because our body temperature lowers when we sleep, we don’t use as much energy, like an energy-saver” 

“Oh, yeah, makes sense. You keep active and work out so your body gets hotter. It’s such a simple concept, I just didn’t really think about it” I exclaim, a bit embarrassed it didn’t click faster. 

“Yeah… You know, there’s other ways to keep warm too” he continues in a whisper, and I move my head, holding myself up as I look down on him. Our faces inch closer, hot breaths colliding. 

“Like…” his hand moves under the hem of my panties, tugging at the fabric. I feel him getting harder under me, poking at my dripping heat. 

“Like-” I interrupt him with my lips, crashing into him. He answers quickly, opening his mouth and grabbing my ass. He squeezes, causing me to moan into him. My arms fly up, one beside his head and one feeling down his toned stomach. I take him in, his warmth, tracing every curve and muscle. 

I start grinding on him, elevating his hardness and making him groan into me. He grabs my thighs, pushing me closer and moving underneath. My body is on fire, kisses getting sloppier and wetter. One of his hands moves to my heat, letting me grind down on his fingers. 

“So this is how you’ve felt about me all this time” he coos, stroking the wet fabric. I force myself not to make sounds so early, after all, he gets me all worked up so quickly. How am I going to keep it up? 

“I can say the same about you” I state as my hand goes down to cup his bulge. He grabs my thigh harder, a weak attempt at controlling himself. My hand goes to trace the hem of his boxers, teasing him with the movements. He jolts into me, making me yelp and lose my balance, falling over him once again. He grabs the back of my neck pushing my lips down on his. His teeth clasp around my lower lip, definitely colouring it red. 

His hands move up to my back, fiddling with the clasp of my bra. It takes a couple of tries, and I try to hide my smile. 

“Need help?” 

“It’s the position we’re in” 

“What, me on top of you?”

“More the freezing cabin-bit, but maybe you’ve got a point” 

He manages to unhook it, dragging it off my arms and throwing it in the clothing pile. I’m about to kiss him again, when he takes hold of my body, one hand on my back and one on my thigh, and rolls us around, making him lay on top. The action leaves me in surprise, it was unexpected, but so is he. I should always be on my toes around him. 

He captures my lips again, mouth moving to my jaw and down my neck. I can’t help the sounds I make, each one a result of his tender touches. He’s warm and cozy, knowing exactly how to make me melt underneath. His mouth travels down my stomach, leaving kisses and bites all over. I whine at the pain, but he quickly licks and kisses the areas better again. Hands are kneading my breast and thighs, coming slowly up to my wet heat. I grab hold of him, not wanting him to go further down. 

“No, please, stay up here with me” 

It’s cold without his chest against mine, it feels empty and alone. He smiles at my request, pushing himself up again and letting me feel his lips. 

“I’m not saying I don’t want to, but-” 

“I know, we’ll keep each other warm” 

He speaks in a tone I’ve never heard before, making butterflies flap around in my stomach. It’s loving and caring. A deep voice which makes my toes curl. I’ve never felt as safe before. He takes hold of my underwear, dragging it down my legs. I help him, kicking it off my feet. He does the same with his, leaving both of us pressed together, in an ice-cold cabin, with a bunch of blankets, naked. I feel him stroke my folds, his hardness pressed against me. I yearn for him, waiting for him to take the first move. 

He does. Chests pressed up against each other, he lowers himself, slowly filling me up. Head is in the crook of my neck, breathing heavily as he keeps going. Shit, he’s big, not even feeling his thighs yet and still pressing in. 

“You’re doing so good for me” he whispers, breathing unevenly and struggling to form the words. Knowing that he’s also feeling this way makes it better. I take hold of his torso, quickly pushing myself completely down on him. We both moan in response, and he doesn’t waste time, starting to move immediately. The cabin fills up with the sound and smell of sex, whimpers and moans in symphony, no one close enough to hear. We’re here, alone and together. 

His pelvis rubs against mine, giving me that extra bit of friction to my core. It starts building up, the warmth, the withholding pleasure wishing to cave. His arm takes hold of my leg, lifting it up, letting him dig himself even deeper. My back arches as he does, reaching my cervix, pain and pleasure shooting through me at the same time. 

“Fuck, Josh I’m gonna come” 

“Mhm, yeah me too” 

He pumps in and out, almost leaving me before slamming into me again. His hand grabs my side harshly, leaving marks which’ll stay for days. My arms go around him, pressing him harder against me, elevating the friction and rubbing. I can’t help it, my nails digging into his back, scraping and crying for release. His lips capture mine in a passionate kiss, and I finally come, clenching around him. Feeling my whole body twitch with pent up energy and ecstasy. He rides me through it, pumping until he digs himself deep, coating my walls in white release. 

The room is filled with deep breaths, bodies tight as his arms go around me, head moving up to kiss my cheek. I stroke his back hand hair, not getting enough of him. I just had sex with Josh Washington, but… was it just to keep warm? My own insecurities get the better of me, and as if on cue, he meets my eyes with his, looking for something. 

“You okay?” 

“I mean, I’m warm” 

“That’s not what I mean” 

I sigh, the high slowly falling, making my body limb and tired. 

“What happens now?” 

He smiles, leaning down and kissing me again, this time, more romantic, more real. 

“I guess we lay here until the sun comes up. Then we get to the lodge, and maybe we can do this again” 

“Again?” 

“You know, really do it again” 

“Fucking hell Washington, that’s not what I mean” 

“I know what you mean, and you should probably stick to calling me Josh”

[kwanisms]

Kinktober 「10:19」 — c.seungcheol

» seventeen menu | s.coups menu | kinktober masterlist «

➮ merman!Seungcheol × fem!Reader wc: 2.7k summary: It’s been a few weeks since Y/N last came to the small seaside town where her boyfriend resides and suffice it to say, he’s missed her greatly. genres/themes/au: smut; supernatural, horror, thriller; non idol au, monster idol au warnings: adult dialogue, female reader, alcohol consumption, supernatural and horror themes; sexual content (18+ mdni), see smut warnings under the cut! taglist has been moved to reblogs join my taglists! kinktober taglist is CLOSED! Strikethrough means I cannot tag you.  MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED. AGELESS BLOGS WILL ALSO BE BLOCKED.

a/n: i wasn’t sure what direction i wanted to go in with this but I’m happy with the way it went. As usual, Cheol gets the daddy treatment. I swear one of these days I won’t write him with a daddy kink. It just fits so fucking well. This is kinda self indulgent but I hope my s.coups stan readers enjoy reading as much as i enjoyed writing! Thank you for reading. Next part of Kinktober is Wooyoung and is kinda similar to this in that he’s a siren! as always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only.

smut warnings: teratophilia (aka monsterfucking), daddy kink, choking (f receiving), unprotected sex (pls use protection. Cheol doesn’t need it. He’s a merman lol), oral (f receiving), multiple orgasms (f receiving), sex on a boat, use of pet names (babe, sweetheart, angel, pearl, etc.), and i think i got them all. if i missed any, please let me know!  kinks: Daddy kink + choking dialogue prompt: ❛❛ Baby, I asked you a question. If you know what’s good for you, you better answer me.❜❜

═══════════════════════════════════════════════════════

“Fuck,” you groaned as you pulled into a parking space. “I’m so fucking late!” You grabbed your things, rushing to get out of the car and rush to the trunk, glancing up at the sky as you pulled your suitcase out of the trunk, slamming it shut before hurrying across the parking lot.

The wind swirled around you, the smell of sea water permeating the air as you headed for the marina, suitcase in tow. The sun was beginning to set and you only had a few hours to get to the islet before sundown if you wanted to dock safely.

As you crossed the gangway, you felt a chill creep in, the clouds moving in as gulls flew overhead, calling out in successive squawks. You reached the door to the marina office, pulling it open and stepped over the threshold into the small building, smiling at the man behind the counter as he read a newspaper, looking over you with an unamused expression.

“Hi,” you said breathlessly as you walked to the counter, pulling your suitcase. “I have a reservation.” The man glanced at your suitcase, your choice of attire before he set his newspaper aside. “Name?” he asked in a monotonous voice.

As you gave him your name, he checked the book, brows raising as he found your reservation. “You’re a regular,” he noted as he started filling out the paperwork. He went over the papers, having you sign and date the appropriate documents before he handed over the keys. “I don’t think you need me to tell you to be careful,” he started. “But it’s getting rough out there,” he added.

You thanked him, promising that you weren’t going far and you’d be safe.

He showed you to the boat that was yours for the duration of your trip and went over the typical safety stuff. After a thorough last minute lesson, not that you needed it, you thanked him, boarded the boat and put your things down below in the cabin before setting off, casting off from the dock and slowly taking the boat out to sea.

You followed your GPS, remembering exactly where the islet was located.

You knew by memory how to get there but having the extra tools was nice.

The sun was at the horizon by the time the rocky shore of the small island came into view and you carefully maneuvered to the old wooden dock, tossing the rope to pull yourself parallel with the dock.

Once the boat was securely docked, you went down into the cabin to change, hoping that you weren’t too late.

Seungcheol had spent the last couple weeks patrolling the waters of the sleepy seaside town he called home. Not that he actually lived in town. No, how could he? His home was the water. He’d been expecting you to show up for two weeks now and still there had been no sign of you. Not a word, not a whisper. He was starting to get worried.

As he watched the marina, he saw no movement, the sun almost completely below the horizon. He let out a frustrated groan, diving below the surface of the icy water as he headed for the islet, hoping that maybe he just missed you and that you were already there.

As he neared the islet, he surfaced, squinting in the darkness and saw a boat moored at the dock, his heart leaping in his chest as a smile spread across his face, the urge to do a happy dance taking over him before he pushed it down and dove under the water once more, swimming straight for the boat.

You had just finished eating dinner and washed the dishes when you heard a thump against the side of your boat. Getting up from the bed, you climbed the steps to the deck, turning on the search light and moving it around, shining it over the water.

There was another thump and you quickly grabbed the handheld torch, turning it on with a click and walking over to the starboard side to peer over the railing at the water below. There was a splash and a flash of a dark shadow but you couldn’t see anything else.

Another thump came but from the port side this time, so you crossed over, about to shine a light when you heard another knock on the starboard side and you stopped, letting out a sigh of frustration.

“Choi Seungcheol, stop fucking with me,” you snapped, your voice loud in the darkness over the sound of the waves lapping at the rocks. The thumping stopped followed by the sound of someone blowing raspberries from the stern. You walked towards the back where the ladder was and peered over the edge to find looking back at you the familiar face of the man you’d come to see.

You could see his tail, scales glittering in the beam of your light.

“Stop playing around and get up here,” you said, rolling your eyes as you turned and started to head back towards the steps to the cabin. “There’s clean, dry clothes and a towel on the bridge.”

You climbed down the steps as you heard him follow you, climbing the ladder. You could hear him above deck, moving about as he dragged himself along before the sound was replaced with footsteps.

Moments later, he appeared, barefoot and dressed in the clothes you left for him as he dried his hair and joined you below deck. “Hey,” he said breathlessly. “Hi,” you said as you sat back down on the bed. He ran the towel over his hair once more as he looked around. “Nice boat,” he said as he inspected. “How long do you have it for?”

“Just the week,” you said as you picked up your laptop, continuing to scroll through the page of real estate. Seungcheol tossed the towel in the hamper and walked over to the bed, sitting on the edge. You turned to look at him, the end of a pen between your teeth as you wrote down in a notebook. 

His hair was still damp, some of it sticking to his forehead. The pale blue shirt you’d given him was sticking to his body in places that had still been wet when he put it on. Your eyes roamed over his toned chest and arms, the fabric seeming to stretch over his muscles.

“So,” he started as he glanced at your screen. “Find anything yet?” he asked. You shook your head, turning your attention back to the laptop. “No,” you answered, brow furrowing as you tried to focus. “Everything is out of my price range.” You let out a sigh of frustration.

“I might have to find something outside of town…”

Seungcheol glanced at you, a frown appearing on his face. You looked at him, finding him already staring at you. “What?” you asked. “What if I got a job?” he asked. You stared at him incredulously. “A job?” you asked, clarifying that you had heard him correctly. He nodded. “I could help bring money in and then you could afford a place in town.”

You shook your head. “That would take you from the ocean,” you answered. “I’m not doing that to you,” you added as you turned your attention back to the computer screen. “I just want you close,” he admitted. You smiled at him. “I know, baby,” you replied. “I’ll figure it out. Don’t worry.”

Seungcheol fell silent as you continued to scroll through the listings. He watched the way your tongue danced around the end of the pen and he felt himself starting to grow hard at the thought of your tongue swirling around the tip of his cock instead. He cleared his throat.

“Sweetheart?” he said softly.

You didn’t look at him, instead humming in response as you kept your attention focused on the screen. “I haven’t seen you in almost a year,” he continued. “Could we put the laptop away for a bit?” You glanced up at him, eyes wide. “Oh, right,” you said as you shut the laptop and set it on the shelf inside the headboard, pulling the pin from your mouth. “Sorry,” you said as you moved closer, one of your hands sliding up his bicep to the side of his neck before pulling him in for a kiss.

“I’ve missed you,” he murmured against your lips, one of his hands moving to the small of your back. “I missed you too,” you replied. You took his face between your hands, pulling him with you as you leaned back against the pillows, forcing him to climb over you, settling between your thighs as his tongue slipped into your mouth, caressing your own.

“Fuck I’ve missed you,” he groaned, burying his face in your neck. “Miss your face.” He kissed your neck. “Missed your voice.” He placed a kiss against your shoulder. “Missed your body.” His kisses traveled further down over your cloth covered chest and stomach. “Missed having you under me,” he groaned, bumping his nose against your mound, inhaling sharply.

“Missed tasting you, touching you, teasing you,” he said as his hands moved, grabbing the waistband of your shorts and tugging them down, pulling your panties down with them. You parted your thighs as he tossed your clothes aside licking his lips as he got an eyeful of your cunt. “Missed this,” he whispered, parting your folds and running his tongue from your slit to your clit, letting out a groan at the taste of you.

You let out a moan, head falling back as he wrapped his lips around your clit, sucking softly before teasing with his tongue in slow circles and licks. Your fingers combed through his hair as your chest rose and fell with your breathing. “Cheollie,” you moaned, stroking his hair as he continued to make out with your pussy, lewdly licking and slurping at your clit as he groaned against you.

“Cheollie,” you breathed out again, back arching slightly as he flicked your clit with the tip of his tongue. “Hmm?” he answered. “I need you, baby,” you whined. Seungcheol chuckled, flattening his tongue as he pressed it against your clit, shaking his head, looking at you with dark eyes, pupils blown with lust as he continued to lick and suck. 

“Cheollie,” you whined. He pulled back “That’s not my name, baby,” he said in a stern voice. “You know what to call me.” You ran your fingers through his hair. “Daddy please,” you whined. Seungcheol’s response was immediate, his tongue back on you in an instant. It didn’t take him long to have you on the edge once more, holding your hips down as his tongue played with your clit until you finally came, thighs squeezing his head as he lapped at your cunt repeatedly.

He finally pulled away, moving his hands to undo his shirt, shrugging it off and throwing it to the floor before moving to undo the ties of his shorts, pushing them down as well, his thick cock springing back up as it was freed.

He kicked the shorts to the floor as you sat up before ripping your shirt off over your head, laying your bare body back against the sheets as he moved between your thighs. He took his cock in his hand, giving himself a few languid strokes as he lined the tip with your entrance.

“You ready, baby?” he asked. You hummed in response, wiggling your hips, silently begging for him to finally give in and sink his thick cock into your aching cunt. Seungcheol let out an exasperated sigh, leaning forward to grab your face, squishing your cheeks together.

“Baby, I asked you a question. If you know what’s good for you, you better answer me.”

You nodded. “Y-yes daddy,” you murmured, looking back up at him with excited eyes. Seungcheol pulled back, pressing the head of his cock against your slit, keeping his eyes trained on you and holding your gaze as he started to lean forward.

You groaned as he pushed into you. Once his cockhead was nestled in your cunt, he moved his hands to the backs of your thighs, pushing them against you as he sank further into your walls, his thick cock filling your pussy and dragging against your walls until he bottomed out.

“God I missed you,” he breathed out, eyes fluttering shut as he rested, letting you adjust to the intrusion. It had been over a year since you’d been intimate and the first time always stung due to his size. Your hand moved over his, sliding up to his forearm and giving it a slight squeeze.

“Okay, daddy,” you moaned. “I’m ready.”

Seungcheol pulled back with a sigh before sinking his cock back into you, letting out a groan as he filled you with one, slow stroke. “Fuck, princess,” he groaned. “You feel so fucking good. So fucking tight around daddy’s cock.” He gave you another thrust before setting a steady pace, pumping in and out of your tight heat. 

Sex with your boyfriend was always an experience as he preferred quality over quantity. It wasn’t about how many strokes it took to have you coming undone but how well he angled those strokes or how hard they were. If he wanted, he could have you cumming on his cock in as little as ten thrusts. He’d done it before. He knew your body better than anyone, even you.

The first time you had sex had been on the beach in the dead of night. One minute, he’d taken you out to a hidden cove to look at the stars and the next he was balls deep inside you, murmuring between kisses how much he loved you. It had been a rather sandy affair and he promised the next time, he’d plan a little better.

The next time, he didn’t plan better and ended up fucking you roughly against some rocks from behind half in the water. That was the first time he fucked you without changing, his cock emerging from its sheath inside his body. He found you quite liked that and thought it was extremely erotic. Any chance he got to fuck you in his true form, he took it, even if it meant you had to be partially submerged.

The next time he got you naked, was on the boat you were renting at the time. It was smaller and more cramped but he enjoyed every second of it. It was around that time that he discovered you had a few particularly interesting likes in the bedroom so to speak.

He learned that you liked being dominated. You loved being held down and pleasured until you couldn’t take it anymore. You loved when he wrapped his fingers around your throat or filled your mouth with them. You showed him quickly that you liked it raw, filthy, and were open to a lot of new things.

Seungcheol let out a growl as your walls clamped around his cock as you teetered on the edge, moaning for him over and over in a chant like you were in prayer. Your hand found his, grabbing his wrist and guided his hand to your throat. 

His fingers squeezed, cutting off the oxygen to your brain and you finally came, crying out for him, cunt convulsing around his thick cock. He fucked you through it before setting a faster more rough pace, pounding into you. You’d gotten yours and now it was his turn.

“Such a dirty little girl,” he groaned, slamming into you as he kept a tight hold on your throat. “Likes it when daddy chokes her until she cums. Can you give me another one?” he asked, his voice barely audible over the sound of his skin against yours.

You nodded, head lolling as his thrusts grew in intensity and power. “Then give me another, baby. Cum on daddy’s cock.” Your thighs shook as you tried to close them but Seungcheol kept a tight hold on you, one hand on your thigh, the other on your neck as he fucked you through another orgasm before he finally came, releasing into you with a groan as his hot seed filled your walls.

He continued to thrust a few more times before he finally stilled, panting as he released your throat, his hand moving back to your thigh to spread your legs open as he looked down where his cock disappeared into your hole, a ring of cum around the base of his cock.

“You made a mess all over daddy’s cock, princess,” he murmured. You looked up at him through half open eyes as he looked up to meet your gaze. “Sorry, daddy,” you breathed. “S’okay, baby,” he said with a smile as he slowly pulled out of you.

“I like it when you make a mess.”

©️ kwanisms 2024 | all works on this blog are protected under copyright. Do not repost, continue, or translate my works. All graphics made by me.

[jj-one]

FIRST TIME’S A CHARM.

this is smut, do not interact if under 18

pairing: sports au, football jock!boyfriend!han jisung x cheerleader!fem!reader genre/tags: smut, fluff, light angst (if you squint), reader is so in love with jisung it makes everyone sick, reader is a virgin, oral (f. receiving), fingering, piv, protected sex, use of pet names (baby, princess, etc.), typical nervousness of first time sex, cherry popping, multiple orgasms, spitting, dirty talk words: 5.1k

**old repost from my deleted blog

Feelings of melancholy plagued your heart this morning. You miss him. You want to touch him, talk to him, breathe the same air as him. Your boyfriend Han was your world. He hasn’t replied to your usual ‘good morning’ text yet and the waiting game was slowly eating you up. You have to get ready for cheer practice since tomorrow is game day but you were hoping that your boyfriend could walk you to the gymnasium. You dread going to practice sometimes but Han would always find a way to lift your spirits and make your mood instantly better.

“You need to give him some space y/n.. you know he’s busy, we can just walk together it’ll be fine!” Karina attempts to snap you into a reality check.

She was your roommate and also on your cheer team, she’s been one of your closest friends since you transferred to this school a few months ago.

“But he always walks with me! I’ll just wait for him to reply, what if he texts me while we’re walking there and then he-“

“Jesus Christ y/n, you should hear yourself talk the way you go on and on about this boy! Don’t you think you’re a little too obsessed?” Karina retorts, “Let’s get a move on, we don’t need to be late to practice for the third time in a row!”

Grabbing your arm in the process, Karina heads out the door with you to get going. You wanted to whine and complain some more but you decided to let it go since you don’t want to annoy your friend with anymore talk of your boyfriend. You could talk about him all day long, you never get sick of being around him, he’s just always so busy with football and other things that it’s hard to see him sometimes. Since the gym you were practicing at was near the football field, you’d hope to eventually run into him later.

Your boyfriend did ultimately text you back but not until your cheer practice was over. You kept messing up the routine and Mrs. Park, your coach was getting irritated by your lack of coordination.

“Y/n, what’s with you today?! I know you can do way better than this!” She snaps in front of everyone, your whole team was looking at you and the embarrassment fully sunk in.

You didn’t have much to say other than a simple “I’m sorry” and “I’ll try harder”, it was your fault that you let your inner thoughts cloud your ability of performing. You gave yourself a couple minutes to recuperate and stretch to join the team again, you couldn’t let them down since the stunt you had to do needed to be executed perfectly.

After cheer practice you read the texts Han sent you:

‘Heyyy babe, so sorry for the late reply :( I’ve been practicing all morning and didn’t get a chance to check my phone!’

‘I just finished, wanna meet in a bit? I’m with Chan and Changbin rn’

You were now grinning ear to ear from his reply, you’ve been waiting all day to see him. It didn’t take long for you to respond back to him enthusiastically.

‘Yes! Where are you??’

‘Still on the field but at the bleachers, meet me there’

‘Ok, coming now!!’

‘See you in a few ;)’

With almost lightning speed you make a dash for the locker rooms and changed out of your cheer clothes to go find your boyfriend. Karina wanted to tag along since she secretly has a crush on Changbin but doesn’t quite want to admit it just yet. Making your way to the football field, you see some figures in the distance sitting on the bleachers; presuming to be your boyfriend and his two friends. You picked up your pace practically sprinting at this point to go hug your boyfriend who was still in mid-conversation with Chan and Changbin. You didn’t even acknowledge or say hi to either of them, only focusing on the man in front of you now. You’ve been craving to see him all day and finally being able to hug him made the sadness you felt this morning dissipate.

“How’s my pretty princess feeling today?” Han says, still having you wrapped tight in a bear hug. His fingers stroked your hair as he felt you against him, words couldn’t describe how happy you were in this moment.

“I’m okay now that I’m with you!” You exclaim, nuzzling your chin into his broad shoulder.

Everytime he hugged or held you, it felt like the warmest place you could be. Nothing compared to his embrace, it electrified you in so many ways that couldn’t be spoken into words.

“Ugh! Could you guys get a damn room already? I’m sick of seeing you act all lovey dovey, makes me depressed that I’m still single!” Changbin teases the both of you. You know he was only joking but it made you want to be even more of a nuisance.

“Then turn around and look the other way, we’re not going anywhere!” Han fires back, now bringing his face towards you to kiss him. He plants his lips on yours and gives you a soft kiss, delighting you with the taste of his minty flavored chapstick.

“Mmm… that flavor tastes good Hannie, could kiss your lips all day!” You go back in for another kiss, completely forgetting that Chan, Changbin, and Karina were right there watching this whole thing go down.

“Alright, enough!” Chan interrupts you and your boyfriends almost near make-out sesh with a reminder of previous plans. “Are we still going back to my place for movie night? I didn’t buy popcorn and snacks for no reason!”

“Ah shit, I totally forgot about movie night…” Han face palms from the lack of remembrance.

“Can I join?!” You chime in, hoping that Chan will allow you in the group so you can spend more time with Han.

“Could I come too?” Karina asks, sitting next to Chan trying her best not to make eye contact with Changbin.

“Yeah sure, the more the merrier I guess!” He shrugs his shoulders.

You were glad Chan let the both of you come along since you didn’t know him that well, you only talked to him on a few different occasions but each time he seemed pretty chill. He was the football quarterback and was loved by pretty much the entire university, he was practically the leader of the football team and looked after everyone. Your boyfriend was also a very popular guy and was well-liked by all his pupils, he was a really good defense and took his athletic skills seriously. You were so proud of your boyfriend and everything that he’s accomplished so far.

“Alright, let’s get going shall we? My dorms not that far from here, should only be a 10 minute walk!” Chan says while standing up.

Everyone gets up from the bleachers to start heading in the direction of the dorms and Han takes your hand in his.

“You cold babe?” Han asks while walking, he sees you shivering a bit from the sudden cool breeze of the wind.

You were wearing a short sleeve t-shirt which probably wasn’t the best idea but you were rushing this morning. You simply nod your head to his ask, you could feel the goosebumps rising on your delicate skin.

“Don’t worry, here you go darling.” Han quickly takes the letterman varsity jacket off his body to bring onto yours. The jacket weighs you down a bit and it was completely drowning you but you didn’t care.

“You look so adorable in my jacket babe, always look so cute wearing my things.” He compliments you while holding your hand tighter.

You could smell Han’s scent on the fabric, everything about him felt like home to you. You’ve been dating for 4 months now, you transferred to this new university thinking you wouldn’t make any friends at all. As soon as you became a cheerleader Han noticed you straight away, he asked a few of the girls about you but you were new so they didn’t know much. He wanted to get to know you more so he went in to shoot his shot and ended up being successful, now you’re both dating and are essentially the school’s power couple. The most popular jock dating the new pretty cheerleader was the perfect recipe to get everyone around the school talking.

“We’re here guys!” Chan says while coming to a stop in front of the dormitory.

He opens the door to lead the way for you all and Han has his arms wrapped behind you plastering small kisses to your cheek. You giggle as you walk inside to see more people sitting on the couch. It was some more members from the football team who joined for movie night but you and Han weren’t actually planning to watch movies with the rest of them.

“Let’s go somewhere else, yeah?” Han whispers in your ear, his voice sending a chill down your spine.

You agree to his ask and Han tells everyone that you’ll both be back before the movie starts getting good. Chan couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at the fact you both casually go into his room, he adds one last piece of advice, “make sure to use protection guys!”

Han doesn’t comment back at that, only reacting with a chuckle and heading towards the bedroom.

Chan’s room was your typical early twenties, frat-boy style living quarters. Clothes spread all on the floor, a couple posters adorned the walls, and the bed was unmade with a few textbooks on top. It was everything you’d imagine it would be, nothing in the slightest bit romantic.

“Wow, what a lovely choice to make our grand escape!” You said sarcastically, looking around at the tornado of a room it was.

“Hey, mine is way worse and you don’t even complain!” Han retorts, throwing the textbooks off the bed.

“That’s because I clean your room every time I come over!”

You sat on the bed with Han beside you, he snaked his arm over to wrap you into another tight hug. You feel the hardness of his chest against you and the sounds of his heartbeat produced butterflies in your stomach. You’ve been waiting to be alone with your boyfriend all day and now that the time has come you can’t keep your lips off him. You brought your face closer to his and sealed his lips to yours, his short brown locks tickled your forehead in the process.

You’ve been thinking about the next big step in your relationship— sex. Sex was what built the foundation of (most) relationships, it only proved how much you love your partner deeply. You wanted to give Han your everything, you’ve never wanted to do something more in your life. As you slowly break away from the kiss, you make sincere eye contact with your boyfriend, his eyes shown nothing but endearment for you.

“So I’ve been thinking about stuff lately…” you trailed your eyes away for a second, not feeling so confident in yourself anymore.

“Thinking about what?” He asks attentively, his eyes were still glued onto you, you could feel the intensity of his stare.

You had either two options: tell him how you really feel and what you actually want or you can save this for another time. You went with the latter and chose to keep it to yourself.

“Never mind… I’ll tell you later maybe, or another time.”

This doesn’t sit too well with Han. He likes when you’re open with him, honesty has always been a huge thing for him and when you act reclusive towards him he gets worried.

“No babe, just tell me. I promise I won’t judge you— I never do! I just want you to feel comfortable and be able to share anything with me.” His hand rubbed your thigh gently which made you feel more at ease and much calmer.

“I think I’m ready to take the next step with you.”

“Next step?” Han replies with confusion, “You mean as in like getting married? I think we’re a bit too young for that right no-“

“No Ji, I meant like I’m ready to have sex!” You finally admit, the look on his face became utterly priceless.

“Oh— really? What made you decide that?” He wonders curiously.

He knew for a long time that he was ready to have sex with you but just never mentioned it until you gave him the green light. He’s never pressured you into doing anything you didn’t want to do, make-out sessions with him would get super hot and heavy sometimes but that still didn’t stop him from not pushing your boundaries. He knew you were a virgin and that it would take time for you to make a decision as the relationship progresses.

“I just love you so fucking much Ji, I wanna give you my whole body, want you to be my first.” You bring your hand to his, moving it to your breasts for him to feel you.

His hand squeezes your boob gently, causing you to gasp at the light action. He cups his whole hand around it and juggles it in his palm, smiling at your beauty.

“You have the most perfect tits.” Han says in almost a whisper, still admiring your presence.

Both of his hands now playing with your boobs as he massages them through your t-shirt, you couldn’t help but go back and kiss his soft lips. The kiss grew more passionate as time went on, you couldn’t stop kissing those precious lips of his, you wanted your face attached to his 24/7. You got on top of him now, tangling your fingers through his luscious hair whilst your tongues glide against each other. He removed one of his hands from your breast to go grab your ass, squeezing your left cheek firmly.

“Lay on your back princess” Han says, instructing you as you lye back down on the bed. You aren’t sure what he has in mind but it can’t be anything innocent.

“What do you want to do to me?” You ask, pressing your thighs together to feel something.

“I want to make you feel really good…” He continues in a sultry tone, “I’m going to make you feel so amazing baby.”

His mouth goes back onto yours, kissing almost roughly this time. Something was taking over your boyfriend and it was turning you on incredibly. He plastered a few more wet kisses to your chin and neck, leaving trails of his glistening saliva all over you. Not a doubt was going through your mind, just undying love and devotion to your boyfriend.

“I love you so much y/n, you know that?” Han says reassuringly, you know he loves you but hearing it still made your heart flutter every time.

“I love you so much Hannie!” You probably loved him more than yourself at this point.

His hands roamed your half naked body once he rid you of your t-shirt and sports bra. His soft, tender touch was enough to drive you crazy and he’s barely done anything yet. You held your breath as his fingers danced across your skin, your brain was completely fuzzy and only filled with desire. You tugged at the end of his shirt so he could take it off and he obliged, pulling it from the top and lifting it over his head. You get a full clear view of body, that beautiful body of his, you wonder how a man can be shaped so gracefully. He had the most broad shoulders, chiselled abs and muscles, but his waist was so pretty and tiny. It didn’t make sense how one could be built such a way but he was perfect, his physique truly mesmerized you.

You go in to feel his muscles, his biceps were absolutely to die for, every time he flexed you swear you could hear your kitty purring down there. He was just so hot, you needed to taste each and every inch of him.

“Want you so bad…” you trace the lines of body, fully enamored by your gorgeous boyfriend.

“I’m all yours babe.”

Han lazily brung his hand to the waistband of your pants, fumbling with the button to take them off but was struggling a bit.

“Here, let me help you.” You guide him in the right direction and he successfully unbuttons them.

Once your pants are off he slides your underwear down past your knees, his face lights up at the sight beneath him. You were nervous but didn’t want to tell him that incase he stops, feeling a lump in your throat now forming.

“Let me know if you want me to stop at anytime.” You loved that he was always making sure you were 100% okay with everything he did.

You nod and let him continue doing his thing, he captures his lips with yours one more time before a hand creeps up your inner thigh. His fingers lightly brush your folds and you shudder from the sensitivity. He smirks into the kiss as he presses a single digit against it, gathering your slick nicely.

“Your pussy feels so wet, I can’t wait to be inside you darling.” Han says after parting from the kiss.

His finger glides between your wet folds, feeling your warm juices gush onto him. He makes a V shape with his fingers to spread you open now, getting a better look at your heat. He licks his lips at the sight, wanting nothing more than to get a taste of you. He inches his head closer to your core and spits on it, watching the saliva run down as he licks a long, slow stripe to your cunt.

His mouth becomes suctioned to your clit as he runs his tongue all over it, slobbering against you whilst holding your hips in place.

“Fuck! So good, so good, so good…” you couldn’t stop moaning, the pleasure was just hitting you all at once.

Your eyes were about to roll to the back of your head and your legs were shaking from Han’s insane pussy eating skills. You felt your chest cave in from all the intense pleasure and just when you thought it couldn’t get any better than this, you were in for hell of a treat. One of his digits entered you, now fingerfucking you. You elicit another moan for him as his tongue picks up a quicker pace, his tongue flicks your nub viciously. His finger slips in and out slowly and adds another digit to make you gasp louder. The feeling of your boyfriend stretching you out for him was amazing, you felt your release coming by the second.

“I- I feel weird Ji..” you try to explain how you feel right now but you just can’t describe it. It felt as though you had to pee but you know you didn’t actually need to.

“It’s okay princess, it’s normal. Trust me, just let go. I promise you’ll feel so much better after baby.” He stopped what he was doing for a moment to encourage you.

His words made you instantly let go, you whimpered from the feeling of his mouth on your clit again. You rocked your hips forward to grind against him while he ate you out, playing with his hair and slightly pulling it once you felt yourself cumming. Your hips shook rapidly around him, his eye contact never broke off with you and it made you lose your mind. You mumble under your breath, trying your best to contain your orgasm but everything came crashing down violently. Han could taste your sweet essence on his tongue as he lapped up all your juices, not letting any of you go to waste. He kept himself buried between your shaky legs and pulled his fingers out, leaving you with an empty feeling.

“You ready for my cock babe?” He finally lifts his head up from your dripping cunt, his face fully soaked from the action he just performed.

“Yes, need you so bad Ji.. want you to pop my cherry.”

You looked at him with the most seductive eyes, he bit down his lip at what you just said. You know exactly how to make him feel the most special, he was special to you though, this whole moment meant everything to you.

“I’ll be gentle with you princess, I’ll try and make this as painless as possible for you.” He kisses your forehead and captures your lips in his.

He gets up momentarily to go find a condom in one of Chan’s drawers and quickly comes back. He undoes his pants to pull them off along with his boxers, opening the wrapper with his teeth and pulling the condom out to slide it on.

“I don’t usually like condoms,” Han explains “but since this is our first time I don’t want to scare you.”

You giggle at that comment, you don’t know the first thing about sex and all of this is so new to you. You’re just glad you have an experienced boyfriend that can help make this easier for you, it made you feel a lot less awkward.

“I guess I’ll have to get on birth control soon then?” You were willing to do anything for him at this point.

“It’s your body y/n, I’m not going to tell you what to do. You make your own choices.”

It was sweet how even right now he’s only thinking about how you feel, he really does care so much about you. Han repositioned himself to be between your legs again, his cock was now pressed along your folds. He gives you another kiss before asking one last time,

“You ready to do this?”

“Yes! Please hurry, I’m getting impatient!” You whine, wanting to finally feel what it’s like to take dick.

“Okay, okay, I’m just making sure you really want to do this!”

He rubs his cock against you, sliding it up and down to collect more of your wetness. You bite down on your lip, waiting for the real moment to transpire. His hand rests on the end of his cock, guiding it to your entrance, he prods your hole gently. A rush of pain inflicts your body from the feeling of just the tip stretching you, you could only close your eyes at the sensation.

“Let me know if I’m hurting you at all.” Han continues pushing himself in.

The more he inched inside you, the more painful it became. It felt as though your whole body was on fire, everything felt so strange to you. You endured the pain in hopes of it becoming better soon, you didn’t want to worry your boyfriend. You feel the size of his cock growing in you, the constant throbbing was making you dizzy. You held onto him tightly, not wanting to let ever go of him. You clench around him as he attempts to fully fit his entire cock but you wince at only half of him inside you.

“Fuck, you alright baby? Did I hurt you?” He studies you with concern, stopping immediately to gauge your body language.

“You’re so fucking tight, even though you’re soaking wet I can still barely fit my cock inside.”

Your face turns red as a tomato, you don’t know what to say and you’re getting too flustered.

“Awe, is my little princess feeling nervous? I told you it’s okay, I’ll be here with you every step of the way, I got you.”

He holds your hand in his, tentatively caressing the inside of your palm, he brings your hand up to kiss it and gave you a warm smile. He continues sliding more of his cock in and is eventually able to get most of himself settled. Your mouth is wide open once he begins slowly thrusting in you. The pain was starting to go away now, just slightly. You focus on the feeling of his length in you, you try to relax your muscles the best way you could. You feel so full, so stuffed, his cock fully immersed in your sweet cunt.

“You feel so good around me princess, just wanna fuck your tight pussy all night long..” he groans while picking up his pace, the discomfort comes back to you now, you wriggle around to make the burning sensation go away.

“Is it supposed to feel like this Ji?” You croak, trying your best to be good for him.

You know that Han would never judge you but you still felt insecure about your performance in the bedroom.

“It’s only going to hurt for a little bit, just keep thinking about me darling, think only thoughts of me.”

You can feel a knot in your stomach form now, his cock slamming into you deeply was making you see stars. You gnaw at his neck to bite down softly, you couldn’t hold in your emotions anymore. The pain was now fully gone again, the intense pleasure washing over you like a tsunami. You kept your eyes tightly shut to feel all of him, focusing on what he told you when he said to think only thoughts of him.

“Your cock feels good Ji, I love how feel inside me!” You cry out to him, arching your back against the bed.

You’ve never felt anything like this before, it all felt too good to be real. He increases his rhythm as he thrusts into you, fucking into your little virgin cunt harder. Your pussy twitches around his cock, you feel that need to pee like when he was eating you out.

“I- I think I’m gonna… cumming…” you could barely get a coherent sentence out. All you could do was continue digging your nails in his back and moan out his name.

“You gonna cum for me princess? Do it. Want us to cum together for our first time.” Han throws his head back as he keeps fucking you. He was bucking his hips in a sloppier motion now, indicating that he was getting close like you. It only took a few more pumps of his cock to get you to form a large ‘O’ with your mouth, your jaw stayed locked in place. Your walls contract around his thick cock and you gasped for air as you lose your breath.

“Ah, fuck y/n!” Han almost says with a growl, his chest feels heavy as he releases his load into the condom.

He continues thrusting slowly into you while gently massaging your breasts. You let go and feel your second orgasm approach, feeling waves of ecstasy throughout your whole body. You were both heavily panting, staring at each other with nothing but complete passion. Han collapses onto you, his sticky and sweaty body rested on yours. His cock was still buried in your cunt, you didn’t want this moment to ever be over.

“So how would you rate your first time?” Han asks while propping his head up, “on a scale of 1 to 10?”

“I’d say a 100/10, I’ll remember this day forever.”

You snuggle up against him, completely forgetting that you had your first time with Han in Chan’s bedroom.

“Well… maybe it could’ve been better if we did this in our rooms.”

“I agree, but hey there’s always next time!” Han finally pulls out of you and notices tiny droplets of blood on the condom.

“Oh my god babe, I popped your cherry!”

You were shocked that even happened since you didn’t feel anything inside you tearing, guess it was a myth that you could feel your cherry pop. Han looked so stoked by this discovery and you wish you could engrain the look on his face in your brain. You just giggle at his actions and give him another chaste kiss, cuddling with him and forgetting the rest of the world around you.

“I think we should head back out soon, they’re probably thinking what the hell we’ve been doing in here for so long.” Han gets up from the bed to go and put his clothes back on.

“I hope we weren’t too loud!” You say, grabbing your clothes to get changed too.

“If they heard us don’t worry about it, there’s nothing to be embarrassed about. They’ll probably congratulate me by how much noise you were making!”

You blush once again by what he said, you can’t believe you just lost your virginity, you don’t feel any different physically but you feel way closer to your boyfriend than ever before. You felt like the luckiest girl in the world to have such a loving, healthy, and supportive relationship. Han Jisung really was the light of your life.

Coming out of Chan’s room felt the walk of shame. You couldn’t face any of his friends or Karina in the living room, they all instantly turned their heads to face you. Changbin started clapping loudly and everyone else followed suit after, you knew this was going to be embarrassing but this just felt like pure torture.

“Congratulations bro! It was about time you finally both got some!” Han’s friend/teammate Minho shouts.

Your biggest fear came true, everyone heard absolutely everything.

“Did you guys really have to fuck in my bed though? I just washed those sheets last week!” Chan exclaimed, giving him the evil eye.

“Hey, I don’t kiss and tell! Whatever happened in that room stays in that room.” Han brings his hand to his lips to make it look like he sealed them.

All the guys keep teasing him and you couldn’t stop blushing, maybe you should’ve waited to have sex in one of your dorms since Chan will probably never let him live this one down.

“You missed the movie anyway, might as well just leave and go for round 2!” Chan jokes.

“That actually doesn’t seem like a bad idea… thanks. Let’s go y/n!” Han links your arm around his and speed walks out the door.

Now that you were no longer a virgin, it didn’t feel all that odd to you as you thought it would be. It actually felt nice knowing you lost it to someone you love so much, someone you care so deeply out. It may not have been in the most romantic atmosphere which you’ve always pictured losing your virginity in a much better setting. However, you’ll cherish this special day with Han because even if it wasn’t the ideal scenery you had in mind, it was still a reminder that you had such a strong, beautiful connection with your lover.