#fuck I hate this I hate feeling like this

[pepperpatrol]

You can always recognize an office worker in a customer bc these guys felt so put upon and affronted by being asked to stay home during all of that that they just fucking forgot how to act in public. They demand things and say things to my face that they never would have before. I've been directly called a bitch and physically threatened more times in the last 4 years than I was in the entire decade of working in service positions beforehand.

I used to like people, man. People would act like we were beneath them for being service workers sometimes but before all that I think a majority of people were polite enough. I just don't give a shit about the complaints of people who were not essential workers unless those complaints are that they want to go back to working remotely because covid isn't fucking over. There is no complaint they can possibly have that can compare to having to be face to face with 100s of people every day that made it abundantly clear that they were (and are) willing to sacrifice your life for their convenience.

im not saying office jobs aren’t bad in some ways but its always very telling when people treat it like the WORST job at the bottom of the rung…because they have never had to face manual labor as a real option they would ever be forced to take.

[thebibliosphere]

I feel so pathetic. The world is literally burning and I’m having panic attacks because I got a flash of possible migraine and I’m so scared of the pain that will follow I’m hyperventilating.

And I know this is probably part of the migraine itself. I know it’s the emotional dysregulation from my brain likely preparing to set itself on fire as electrical impulses misfire over my brain stem. But I hate it, I fucking hate it. I feel so fucking helpless.

I don’t want to do this anymore.

[infernoflorys]

ok poll time i need answers

[moonchildcovenxx]

Scissoring With Sevika

a/n: Guys i got possessed!! It’s the voices I swear! this is loosely based off of @justhereforsubsevika’s post so go check that out if u like mine :)!!

first time tribbing with sub/switch sevika??? you know what hell yeah!

Sevika prided herself in her poker face. It was an ability that came naturally, and the years of being Silco’s second in command had perfected this trait. It took a lot to break your stoic, brooding, girlfriend. That is until it didn’t.

Sevika had simply stopped moving above you. It was uncharacteristic of her to quiet so quickly. “Vika baby…” you trail off as you shift your hips to look at her. You always craved to feel her closer.

 Sevika’s warm muscular body against yours never failed to make you needy. She could hardly believe it herself when you suggested scissoring in place of her fucking you stupid with a strap. Sevika hated to admit when she was wrong, But it felt good. Better even. So good in fact that you both froze when a soft mewl fell from her parted lips.

“Shut up.” Sevika immediately rasped out as your intrigued yet teasing giggle filled your dimly lit bedroom.

“Didn’t know you could sound like that Sevika.” The atmosphere in the room has reached a drunken, hazy, stupor and your eyes darken as Sevika tucks her lower lip between her teeth, her thighs shuddering atop yours. “Don’t—Stop that.” Sevika attempts to chide, but she cuts herself off with a breathy gasp as your clits kiss oh so gently. It has her pretty grey eyes rolling back, it’s a small touch, but she can feel everything. “F-fuck.” Sevika pants, dropping onto her elbows to cage around you.

It’s taking all your energy to stay as quiet as possible to hear the absolutely devastating noises that are leaving your girl. 

Something in you blooms as you watch Sevika’s usually sharpened, stoic facade crumble. Her cheeks dust rosy as your eyes roam her figure not knowing what or where to settle on. Sevika’s already pussy drunk—completely stupefied. That much you can tell. The way her eyebrows furrow, arching upward is merely one sign. A permanent shiver racks her body at even your slightest change or quirk of your body. A beat passes where both of you are still, clearly waiting for someone to make a move. And then it clicks. What Sevika wants you to do. and all of a sudden you find your hand at her throat pulling her into a deep kiss. “Yeah like th-that ohgod.” 

Sevika leans closer finally letting your hands guide her hips where you want them. And where you want them is bucking down onto you. You need her clit against yours. You need to feel the way her cunt just drips as you coo praises up at her. “So pretty like this, huh?” Your words are slurred from the pleasure each time she grinds down onto your now sloppy pussy. Sevika shakes her head fervently trying to keep some semblance of dominance. Trying and failing to pretend she was unbothered by your vulgar words and even sultrier actions, but it wouldn’t work. As you leave biting marks on her collarbone, the resulting noise that you drag out of her is so throughly debauched you moan back her name in response.

“I’m going to stop if you don’t speak up.” You tsk up at her. Your words are nothing but lies. You need to cum just as much as Sevika does, but you’re in love with the indignant, pained expression that falls over her features, her restraint finally snapping when you threaten her. “No—ah-baby please it feels so—so good oh god oh my god!” Sevika all but wails into your chest, as you meanly hum in mock thought, you’re sure that the throbbing in your cunt gives you away. When was the last time you were this wet?

“Hmm. Should I let you cum Vika? you’ve been so….” you cut yourself off by squeezing her neck ever so slightly, and in result Sevika’s mouth drops open, this time staying there as you continue to toy with her. “so ‘bratty’…” You giggle, as Sevika shakes her head again. “I’m-fuck-‘m not a brat.” Sevika hitches out indignant. Her deep raspy lilt long gone, in its place a broken whimper. “Please I’m—Please I’ve been good I wanna-“ She cuts herself off as her eyes roll back for the nth time of the night. The pleasure coils painfully in your tummy, the tightly wound knot ever so close to snapping. 

“Then cum for me Sevika.” you manage breathily as your clit rubs against hers oh so addictively that your hips buck up to meet Sevika’s erratic thrusts. 

“Oh God-hahh—”

Sevika falls into you, head burying into your shoulder as she all but creams on your overly sensitive pussy. 

“Just like—ah- that I got you.” You purr comfortingly, managing to hook your leg around her thigh holding her still. The silence envelops the two of you comfortably as you breathe in an overwhelmed yet satisfied breath. The quiet continues and you think that Sevika has simply fallen asleep on top of you as you lean back into the ruffled up pillows. 

“I…wouldn’t mind doing that again.” Sevika raspy low lilt is amusedly back—like it had never left, and you can’t help the smile that spreads across your face as you nod eagerly cuddling closer in her arms.

[hcneymooners]

⋆ i am afraid i will love you forever.

ambessa x sugar baby!reader x sevika. men & minors dni.

synopsis: ambessa & sevika are married for business reasons but cannot stand each other. however, they love you—you who are unaware that they are together.

cw: age difference, older woman/young woman, polyam but is it really bc they just love you and not each other, sugar baby!reader, business moguls!ambessa & sevika, power dynamics, power imbalance (you're a sugar baby, lol), sw, pining, non-sexual intimacy, sexually explicit content, threesome, cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, oral sex (everyone is receiving at some point), masturbation, exhibitionism, voyeurism, dom/sub, sub!reader, dom!ambessa, switch!sevika, mommy kink, strength kink, face-sitting, face fucking, possessive sevika & ambessa, y'all there's a lot of nastiness in here idk if i can warn for it all, discussions of sexuality, implied assault (non-graphic, within conversation), slightly dub-con, angst, angst with a happy ending, misunderstandings, arranged marriage, sexual tension, hate sex, bisexual!reader.

wc: 10.3k

PLAYLIST.

notes: y'all, i'm going to hell. i had fun with this. i have such a soft spot for plots like this.

ACT I: CONCEPTION. you were used to feeling like a guest in your own life, everything fleeting, everything temporary.

sugaring was something inherently lacking permanence, even in name. it was sweet for a moment, full of gleaming gifts that you accepted with perfect tears in your eyes.

you had more than enough money, saved from endless months in which you traipsed across the world in the hands of older men. maybe it was about the attention now, this idea that you were still young enough to be considered enticing without effort. maybe it was the desperation to wring what you could out of an age gap connection before you became the older one.

still, in the beginning years of your twenties, you found it increasingly grating. very quickly, you understood that the men were the main problem.

they were all the same: fleshy jowls wiggling as they chewed thickly through caviar and jasmine rice, their boisterous laughs sailing across tables when you attempted to join conversations. they took your interests and re-explained them to you, returning them pulpy and distorted as they attempted to convince you that you didn't understand them the way they did. their self-importance clung to them like cheap cologne.

the rare occasions where you actually slept with them were mercifully short, and you learned to suspend yourself out of your body. you would imagine hovering somewhere over yourself, banished to the lavish mirrored ceiling of the ritz or whatever opulent hotel they'd chosen. they shuddered awkwardly above you, and afterward, you'd come back into yourself only to scrub viciously at your skin under the unforgiving spray of the shower.

the women were different—usually. you found yourself drawn to their luxury perfumes and high society drawls. it was because of this that you dropped working through an agency—which you had originally chosen to better protect yourself from male clients—and began independent contracting.

you kept a private log of the ones you liked best. there was the private university professor (who was really a nepotism baby) who loved to wear le labo matcha 26 and smelled so deliciously of fig whenever she kissed you that you sometimes bought the fruit just to continue tasting her. her nickname for you was something in greek—μωρό μου, you think. moro mou. she told you it meant 'my baby', but in all honesty, she could have called you anything. you just liked hearing her speak.

you were a dreamy, distant creature. your appeal lay in your ethereal quality, moving through the world in a way that suggested you were detached from it. people described your presence as lingering, smokey and soft, like a fading perfume in a sunlit room. there was something endearing about the tilt of your head, the deliberate pause in your movements and speech as you stewed in thought, that made people stare a second too long.

you had plied yourself with romantic imaginations since you were younger, when you first grew to hate your mother. that hatred had led you across far waters into a glittering life of your own making. but you'd learned that women could be just as dangerous, if not more so. they could ensnare you, shatter your heart with just the flicker of a glance.

so, of course, this meant that you were bound to get caught in the tides of extensive affection at some point. you just didn't expect it to be with them.

🥩 ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚𓃔

the first sign should have been the unusual nature they coaxed from you.

you typically focused on one relationship at a time, securing yourself to a single person until you became too honest or too sensitive or too old. but with them, you fo​​und yourself with what you called a roster—a term your best friend and fellow sugar baby clleo (yes, two l's) took issue with during your weekly brunches.

"it's not a roster when it's only two women, [name]," she said, stirring her mimosa with a silver straw.

"it's more than one, no?"

"i feel like you have to have a minimum of three." she raised an eyebrow. "though i have to admit, even two is unusual for you."

the first was ambessa.

you'd met her when you weren't even looking, at some jazz show clleo had received tickets for from her newest beau. you had been perched inside the red velvet of the box, eyes roving over the insides of the other open balcony seats. you loved to observe, to look into others' lives and pretend they could be your own.

that night, you'd worn a navy slip dress that pushed the line of being dress-code appropriate, but it was comfortable and you had been tired. your hair was elaborately braided away from your face, threaded through with silk ribbons of the same color. despite its usually disagreeable nature, you'd managed to make it look elegant enough. your skin was littered with goosebumps from the fervent blasting of the air conditioning.

for once, you'd done your makeup the way you preferred it—less blushing ingenue, more cool nudes and a dark, bold lip. in the bottom of your purse sat two rolling bullets of lipstick: one a berry shade, the other a satiny red slightly subdued by a touch of brown pigment.

your feet had been curled beneath you, your ballet flats cast aside in the corner. the rounded tops were slightly scuffed, but you only saw it as a testimony of love. again, you looked out into the crowd only to find a woman looking back.

she was utterly beautiful, and your body flushed with heat for a moment, eyes wide like a doe. her skin was a dark, rich brown that gleamed with a sheen of oil and perhaps a shimmering body mist. her hair—black and streaked with thin rivers of gray—was pulled up into a tight bun, though the front was cornrowed. her mouth was full and smooth, a small gold cuff inserted in the middle of her bottom lip.

that night, she'd worn an oversized blazer over tailored pants. your eyes caught on her diamond cufflinks, and you felt your fingers clutch tighter around the bulk of your vintage ysl clutch.

she watched you with a sense of urgency, as if you might take flight like a bird and never return. bashfully, you turned back to watch the performance and clapped politely as it came to an end. her gaze never strayed from you, and as you rose to leave with clleo, you knew that she would be waiting.

you don't remember much of what happened after, of arranging the contract and indenturing yourself to her wealth. you only remember how she made you feel, her great body towering over you as she pierced you with her shrewd gaze. she'd cupped your elbow, pulled you gently to the side so that you were less in the way. the movement was easy; you trusted her with your body immediately.

now, ambessa reigned over the entries of your leather journal as your clear favorite. everything she did further endeared you to her, and you found yourself tumbling out of bed to check your phone where it lay on the floor, desperate for her messages. you watched the device all night, its flat body connected to a limp white cord plugged into the wall—willing it to ring.

and when she did call, you were almost delirious with joy.

ambessa's world was a carefully curated exhibition of power. noxus corp dominated the skyline with its obsidian tower, all sharp angles and tinted windows that reflected the setting sun like spilled blood. you'd learned early on not to ask too many questions about her work. the corporate merger making headlines—something about expanding into the industrial district of zaun—was just background noise to the way she'd trace your collarbone with cold fingers heavy with rings.

belatedly, in the midst of your betrayal and anguish, you’d berate yourself on your refusal to engage with real life when it inconvenienced you. you could’ve caught on, dived deep into the hole of information that was the internet as clleo did when taking up with someone new. but you didn’t, you just answered her call.

she liked to dress you up. tonight, it was a paper-thin black dress that cost more than your month's rent, the fabric liquid against your skin. you'd paired it with kitten heels that made soft clicking sounds against the marble floors—ambessa preferred when you were shorter than her, easier to maneuver, to possess. your lips were stained the color of coffee, and you'd lined your eyes with something dusky and soft.

the restaurant was the kind of place that didn't list prices on the menu, where the silverware felt weighty enough to be used as weapons. you liked this style of dining; it allowed you to escape further. you could pretend that since there were no prices, every morsel you ate was free and that the woman across from you was someone whom you loved and received love back from instead of bills.

“pull your hair back,” she commanded softly when you sat down, reaching across to brush a strand from your face. her touch lingered longer than necessary. “i want to see you properly. you should never feel a need to hide from me.”

you obliged, using the elastic around your wrist to gather your hair into a loose knot. the movement exposed the necklace she'd given you last week—a delicate thing of white gold and diamonds that probably cost more than your university education. her eyes darkened with satisfaction. she liked marking you with beautiful things, preferred to communicate through touch and gifts rather than words.

you preened under her clear pleasure. the idea that you’d done something right flowed through you, sweet as sugar as was the phenomenon of female favoritism. your tongue settled behind your teeth as she skimmed the menu, ordering for you as she always did. she seemed more aware of what you liked and needed more than you had ever been.

“are you alright with sharing the roast monkfish tonight, little lamb? i’m not all that hungry, so i think we should deal with something light.”

you nodded and she smiled, chucking your chin as she flagged down the server. you squeezed your thighs together, resisting the urge to rise from your seat and sit at her side with your head resting in her lap.

the waiter arrived with a bottle of wine you were unfamiliar with, which meant it was far more expensive than your beloved six-dollar gas station sémillon. as ambessa swirled the dark liquid in her glass, her phone buzzed. her expression hardened for a fraction of a second before smoothing over.

"business," she said simply, standing. "order whatever you'd like. i'll return shortly."

you caught fragments of her conversation as she walked away—something about zaun's infrastructure and liability concerns. one hour bled into two. the waiter refilled your glass with practiced discretion, and you watched the ice in ambessa's water melt completely. your phone remained silent except for a single text: an urgent matter requires my attention. car service will take you home.

the words blurred on your screen. you'd grown used to her absences, the way she could withdraw completely into her world of corporate warfare, leaving you adrift in these expensive spaces. but tonight, the emptiness felt sharper somehow. you had, more than ever, wanted her to take you home.

it was then that the woman entered the restaurant, right as you blinked upward to dispel the gathering tears. the air seemed to shift with her presence as she absentmindley looked in your direction.

she moved with the fluid grace of someone who knew how to handle herself in the cruel maw of this world, efficient and forceful despite wearing an expertly tailored suit. her left arm caught the light strangely—some sort of advanced prosthetic that spoke of military tech or private healthcare. a significant scar bisected her face, but rather than diminishing her beauty, it enhanced her striking features.

your paths crossed at the bar while you waited for a fresh glass of wine. she ordered whiskey, neat, and her voice was rough velvet.

"you're wearing that necklace wrong," she said, not looking at you directly. "the clasp should be centered at the nape. here."

before you could protest, her fingers—warm, unlike ambessa's—were at your neck, adjusting the chain. you caught a whiff of motor oil beneath expensive perfume. you swayed slightly, pressing into her touch. she steadied you with a single finger at the beginning knob of your spine, strong where you were momentarily weak.

"i'm sevika," she said, finally meeting your eyes. something in her gaze made your breath catch. you’d never seen eyes that grey. "you look like you could use something stronger than wine."

you smiled, albeit shakily, which avalanched into finding yourself talking to her about everything and nothing—about the book of poetry you kept on your nightstand for late night reading, about the way you collected vintage coats, about how you sometimes felt like you were floating three feet above your own life.

she listened with an intensity that made you feel anchored, present in your skin in a way you hadn't felt in months. her questions were sparse but precise, each one drawing out another story, another piece of yourself you hadn't meant to expose. and then she asked you to leave with her, and the answer was quick and easy. a light, eager ‘yes’.

the speakeasy she took you to was hidden beneath an auto shop, all exposed brick and piano medleys that wrapped around you like rope. in the dim light, you noticed the way her prosthetic arm moved with incredible precision as she gestured, the way her eyes softened almost imperceptibly when you laughed. she noticed you shiver and draped her jacket over your shoulders without comment, the leather still warm from her body.

"i manage specialized acquisitions," she said when you asked what she did, her smile suggesting there was more to the story. "currently dealing with some complex merger negotiations. but that's boring. tell me more about that poetry collection you mentioned."

you talked until your voice grew hoarse, until the early hours when the city felt like it belonged only to those who were lost or hiding. when she dropped you home, she fixed your broken porch light without being asked, her movements quick and purposeful. you found out later she'd also left her number saved in your phone under 's'.

what you didn't know—couldn't have known—was that across town, ambessa was returning to the penthouse she shared with her wife of six months, their marriage a carefully hidden clause in the merger agreement between noxus and zaun's industrial empire. their shared living space was largely ceremonial, each woman keeping to their own wing, intersecting only for appearances and board meetings.

that night, sevika found ambessa in their shared study, both of them surrounded by contract papers and acquisition reports.

"the zaun infrastructure reports," sevika said, dropping a thick folder on the desk. her wedding ring caught the light—a simple band worn only within these walls.

"you're late," ambessa replied without looking up. "the board expects updates by morning."

"i had a personal matter to attend to."

"as did i."

neither woman acknowledged sevika’s missing jacket which she never was without, nor the faint perfume—your perfume—that clung to ambessa's blazer. their arrangement was clear: their marriage was business, their personal lives their own. they had trained themselves not to care what, or who, the other did in their free time.

but that night, for the first time since their arranged union, both women found themselves thinking of the same person as they worked in silence. it was one of their more agreeable evenings together.

ACT II: GROWING PAINS.

“where do you go?”

you turned, half-lidded, your hair mussed into an untamed bird’s nest. sevika lay beside you, her smile a lopsided thing—teasing, warm, a little worn. you leaned toward her instinctively, pressing a lazy finger into the shallow dimple that cut into her cheek.

she caught your wrist before you could withdraw, lips brushing the tender pulse beneath your skin before pulling you into her chest. her hand slid across your stomach, warm and heavy, before it wandered higher to pinch your nipple just shy of too hard.

the two of you had met in a hotel, yet somehow, it felt less clinical than it should have.

“what do you mean?” you murmured, breath catching as her hand stilled.

“you go somewhere,” she said, “when we fuck.”

the words hung between you, and you felt your body shift under her scrutiny. her gaze trailed the uneasy motion of your shoulder blades as you shifted upright. honesty clawed at your throat, but you tried to swallow it back. you’ve never been the tiger, only the tiger’s bride.

“i often—” you broke off, tongue darting to wet your lips. her arm tightened around your waist, as if sensing your instinct to retreat. “i tend to disassociate when i do this part of things. i’m not—what i want, i usually can’t achieve. i don’t want to make it anyone’s problem, so i float.”

���float?” she repeated softly. her tone was unreadable, but you refused to meet her eyes.

“i pick a spot on the ceiling,” you admitted, voice small. “from there, i phase myself out of my body. it’s like it’s happening to someone else.”

sevika said nothing at first, and the silence thickened as you focused on the slow, steady rise and fall of her chest. then, carefully, she shifted you into her lap, holding you there like a delicate thing. her lips found the center of your chest, pressing a kiss over your heart before trailing up to the vulnerable line of your throat.

“you do this with me?”

“not always,” you whispered. “you’re…different. you pay attention to me—what i need. only two other people have ever been that way. both women.”

“mmm. do you still see them?” her voice was calm, but you caught the subtle current of possession beneath her words.

“only one.”

“and?”

“it’s good with her. one of the best.”

“and what do you want?” she pressed. the question lodged itself in your chest. “you said you can’t achieve it.”

your cheeks burned, and you squirmed in her lap, but she held you fast. “i—this is embarrassing.”

“there’s nothing embarrassing about your desires, baby girl,” she murmured, her tone soothing. “i wouldn’t be here if i didn’t want you to enjoy this too.”

“i do enjoy it, but…i’d like to go further. i like to go under.” you hesitated, then added, “you know that i’m—”

“submissive,” she finished for you.

you nodded, your voice softening as you continued. “i don’t really like the harsher aspects of submission, but i love being taken somewhere else—being softer. i love being told i’m good, that i’m doing well. i love being pushed past my limits, to the point where i’m…hazy. overstimulated. freed from my worries through my body, through the pleasure i give and receive.

“when you manhandle me, when you pull me close and push into me like you’re starving for it, when you break me apart with your mouth, i get so close. i hover in this warm heaven where i’m nothing but what i feel. you know?”

sevika’s expression softened, her face almost unbearably open. before you could process it, she moved, pressing you into the mattress beneath her. her broad frame blotted out the light, sheltering you in a cocoon of warmth and safety.

“you are good, baby,” she finally said. “so good.”

her lips fell again to your neck and you felt her slide her thick fingers into the warm walls of your cunt. a sound slid from your throat, something gutteral and worn. she began to move, curling her fingers as if you pull you closer. there, in the back of your mind, was that heaven.

she kissed your temple, her lips lingering there as your body arched into her hands. “thank you for telling me.”

then, softer: “that heaven? i want to take you there.”

the words sank into your skin, heady and heavy, as if she’d whispered she loved you.

🥩 ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚𓃔

ambessa had endured a long day—one filled with tedious negotiations and the peculiar frustrations of ruling over people who thought themselves her equals. she'd craved just one moment of quiet in her house, but fate, it seemed, had other plans.

when she stepped through the door, the sight of her wife pacing their kitchen dragged a weary sigh from her chest. sevika's movements were sharp, her broad shoulders taut beneath the worn leather of her jacket. even now, after months of marriage, seeing sevika in their shared space felt like an intrusion.

for a fleeting moment, ambessa considered turning around, but she hadn’t built empires by running from conflict.

“sevika,” she began, voice clipped, “if this is about zaun’s profit percentage in the acquisition, i suggest you take it up with legal. i’ve no patience to discuss business tonight.”

“it’s not that,” sevika muttered, her tone bristling with frustration. “but thanks for your grace, medarda.”

ambessa’s eyebrow arched. “then what?”

sevika stilled, the weight of her gaze pinning ambessa in place. “are you the other woman?”

for a moment, the words didn’t register. then irritation flared, swift and hot.

“i thought we agreed we weren’t in love,” ambessa replied, dry as the desert. “who i see outside this house is none of your concern, unless it compromises our arrangement.”

sevika exhaled sharply, the sound edged with restrained anger. she reached into her pocket and retrieved her phone, its screen casting a gentle glow across the marble counter. with a few taps, she pulled up a recent conversation.

she paused, a smile stealing across her face as she took in the selfie you'd sent of you and clleo in matching milano blaniks. the tenderness in her expression was something ambessa had never seen before.

my feet hurt but it might be worth it!! you'd texted. she had responded in record time.

looking cute, baby girl. i like the purple.

me too! they had a navy and gold pair i would kill for, but i'm trying to be responsible.

sevika's smile deepened, and this time she sent a bank transfer along with her next message.

you can be a little irresponsible.

oh, sevi. that's not what i meant.

i know. i don't mind. get them both.

"i'm sorry, but were we not having a conversation?" ambessa's voice cut through the moment like frost.

sevika snapped back to reality, her face twisting into something ugly—the expression she reserved solely for ambessa. she selected another image, and ambessa stepped closer, her eyes narrowing at the familiar necklace adorning your throat.

she recognized it instantly—it had rested on her desk just nights ago, a small token of indulgence she’d gifted you during one of your afternoons together.

you were smiling, beaming, caught mid-laugh. your hair was damp, clinging to your cheeks, and a sea lion nudged at your side. it was an image of unfiltered joy.

"she was talking to me the other night," sevika began, her voice tight as a wire. "mentioned some other woman. i thought it was a client thing, but then she showed me this." she gestured at the screen. "that necklace. it was on your desk when i saw you."

ambessa said nothing at first, her jaw working. finally, she sighed, the sound heavy with something like resignation. “i didn’t know. i assumed she might have other clients, but i didn’t pursue her because of you.”

sevika’s shoulders sagged slightly, but the tension in her face remained. she bent her head, palms pressing into the cool marble of the counter. “what the fuck.”

“does she know?” ambessa asked after a beat.

"what would it matter?" sevika shot back, her voice rising like tide. her gaze locked on ambessa, and her lips twisted in disbelief. "holy shit. are you in love with her?"

the question hit like a blow, but ambessa’s reaction was instant.

“as if you’re any better,” she snapped. her tone turned venomous, sharp as a blade. “you sulk through the door, reeking of her sex, then slink into the shower as if i can’t hear you simpering in there.”

sevika straightened, anger sparking. “and you’re what? innocent?”

ambessa’s laugh was cold, cruel. “i’ve never been innocent a day in my life. but you—god, sevika, you’re pathetic. you’re worse than i thought.”

sevika’s fists clenched at her sides, but she didn’t lash out. instead, she held her ground, her gaze fierce. “what do we do now?”

ambessa hesitated. her mind raced through the implications, the potential fallout. finally, she crossed her arms, her posture stiff. “we don’t tell her.”

“and keep lying to her?” sevika’s voice cracked slightly. “how long do you think that’ll work?”

“as long as it has to,” ambessa replied, her voice low and final. “this arrangement isn’t just about her, sevika. it’s about us. about what we’ve built. if you care about her as much as you claim, you’ll think before ruining what little stability we have left.”

“for fuck’s sake, ambessa. she’s a sweet girl. she won’t—”

“you have no idea what she will do if she finds out,” ambessa hissed. “and i know how sweet she is. she’s the only goddamn person i know who can stand me. who do you think i’m really protecting?”

for once, sevika had no retort. the silence between them was loud, heavy, filled with unsaid things.

“i’ll handle it,” ambessa said after a long pause, her voice softer now but no less firm. “but don’t let your feelings make you sloppy. if you can’t compartmentalize, this will all fall apart.”

sevika turned away, her shoulders tense. “it’s already falling apart.”

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ambessa didn’t sleep that night.

not because of sevika’s words—though they lingered like a sour taste in her mouth—but because of you. she’d grown accustomed to the softness of your skin beneath her fingers, the way your presence softened the edges of her world, made it almost bearable. and yet, she couldn’t shake the nagging thought that you might be nothing more than collateral damage in this carefully constructed house of cards.

the following morning, as sunlight filtered through the sprawling windows of her office, ambessa reached for her phone. her fingers hovered over your contact, her mind warring with itself. she’d always prided herself on her control, on her ability to compartmentalize. but now, for the first time in years, she felt the cracks forming.

her phone buzzed before she could decide, sevika’s name flashing across the screen.

“what now?” ambessa answered, her tone clipped.

“the gala,” sevika began, her voice unusually subdued. “this year it’s your turn to host, right?”

ambessa’s grip tightened on the phone. “yes. and what about it?”

“and,” sevika said, dragging out the word, “she’ll be there. she got an invite through one of her clients.”

the air seemed to still around her. “you’re certain?”

“positive,” sevika replied. “what do you want to do?”

ambessa leaned back in her chair, her gaze fixed on the skyline. the decision should have been simple: handle the event with poise, maintain appearances, and ensure that you remained blissfully unaware. but something about sevika’s tone made her pause.

“we’ll stick to the plan,” ambessa said finally. “she doesn’t know, and she won’t find out. not from us.”

they both knew it was only a beautiful dream.

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and then suddenly, it was different. it was horrible in its subtleness, but enough to make you less comfortable than you were before.

you went to dinner. ​​ambessa watched you with eyes as sharp as her diamond cufflinks, and you wondered if she knew how small you felt in her presence. you let her brush her thumb over your lower lip, and you leaned into it, hoping she doesn’t notice your hands gripping your clutch too tightly.

“is something wrong?” you asked her, throat closing around the end of the question.

she seemed to startle, and leaned back with a shake of her head. you knew what was coming next. she was going to blame work or her family, which you barely knew about, or maybe something as clandestine as the weather. you suddenly felt entirely too sick. you took a sip of wine, eyes falling on the little brown bag that sat next to you.

every gift you unwrapped felt a little like a goodbye, the sparkle dulled by the unspoken terms behind it. you kept smiling, face stretching tediously through the pain though your heart was sinking because nothing ruined a good arrangement faster than too much honesty.

you must’ve overstepped somewhere down the line, and she had grown weary of it. you were sweating now, looking away from her. it didn’t help that your phone had stayed dark all evening, your slew of messages to sevika read and unanswered.

“i finished that book you gave me,” you offered and ambessa nodded. “it was lovely. a little macabre, but i managed to push through.”

“bessa?” you asked, voice small.

the nickname seemed to spur her back into herself and she reached across the table, clutching your hand. her rings pressed cold indents into your skin. you'd grown to love the weight of them.

"the annual noxus environmental gala is tomorrow night," she said finally. her thumb traced circles on your palm. "i'd like you to come."

your heart stuttered. she'd never invited you to a public event before. "another client already invited me. i’ll be there."

she squeezed your hand once before letting go, unfazed by the mention of someone else. "good."

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the evening was opulent in a way that made your skin prickle. the ballroom shimmered with soft golden light, chandeliers casting their glow across marble floors that reflected everything like still water.

you'd been invited by marcus—a client who preferred your company over dinner to discuss art and literature, who looked at you like you were made of gold but never asked for more than conversation. he was safe, a spiderweb you could free yourself from anytime without losing any skin.

your dress—a gift from ambessa—felt like a confession of infidelity. marcus had said nothing in the car, but his face had been momentarily confused. he kept track of what he gifted you, and he hadn’t seen this before. you offered no explanation, just smiled softly and held his clammy hand.

the fabric whispered against your skin with every movement, reminding you of her touch. you held your champagne glass like a shield, watching the bubbles rise and disappear, each one carrying a fragment of your certainty with it.

the past week had been strange. ambessa's usual sharp edges had softened into something almost tender, while sevika's messages had grown shorter, more distant. she’d eventually responded to the ones that had been read, but you felt as though you had disturbed her with them. you'd attributed it to work, to the upcoming shareholder conference business weekly had written about. you were good at making excuses for the people you loved.

and then you saw her.

ambessa stood on the stage like she'd been born there, her voice carrying across the room with the kind of authority that made everyone else feel small. her dress was long and white, with a delicate slit framing the plump skin of her thigh. it clung to her frame with an elegance that made your heart ache. you didn't want to admit how your chest tightened at the sight of her, how your body betrayed you with its instinctive pull toward her presence.

but before you could fully process the sight of her, another figure emerged from the crowd.

sevika.

she stood near the base of the stage, her broad frame impossible to miss. her presence was quieter than ambessa's, but no less commanding. the way she held herself—like she belonged here, like this was her world too—made something cold settle in your stomach. you shifted away from marcus, moved slightly forward with a furrowed brow.

it wasn't just their proximity—it was the way they moved. the way sevika's gaze lingered on ambessa, the subtle nods they exchanged, as if communicating in a language only they were privy to. and then, as if to confirm your worst fears, ambessa's hand brushed sevika's arm in a gesture so familiar, so natural, that the truth hit you like a truck.

the matching rings caught the light. the world tilted sideways.

the soft hum of conversation turned to static, the lights too bright, the room too warm. you tried to steady yourself, clutching the edge of a nearby cocktail table and nearly taking it down, but the weight of realization pressed down on you like a tide. marcus was asking after you, but you snapped at him.

you thought of the gifts—how similar their tastes had been. the way they both knew too much about each other’s companies, about each other's worlds. the little moments that should have added up but hadn't—because you hadn't wanted them to. you'd ignored the signs, wrapped yourself in their separate affections like blankets against the cold.

someone nearby whispered, "isn't that their…" the words trailed off, heavy with implication. you spun, eyes wide and searching. you couldn’t tell who had spoken.

the champagne glass slipped from your fingers. it didn't shatter—caught by a waiter's quick reflexes—but the sound of it leaving your hand seemed to echo through the room. both women turned at the noise, their expressions shifting from professional neutrality to something raw and complicated.

“do you know her?” the question came from a guest nearby, their curious tone laced with amusement.

the tension shattered. the murmurs began, the subtle shifts of the crowd as more guests turned to watch the unfolding spectacle. your voice was barely above a whisper, but it cut through the gathering noise like a blade.

“how long?”

ambessa stepped forward, her movements slow and deliberate, as if approaching a wounded animal. “it’s not what you think—”

“don’t,” you snapped, your voice trembling with anger and heartbreak. “don’t you dare lie to me.”

sevika tried to intervene, her hand reaching out as if to steady you, but you recoiled, your fury spilling over. “you both knew,” you said, your voice rising. “you knew, and you let me—”

sevika tried again."baby—"

"don't." the word came out hard and cold.

you backed away, your heels suddenly unsteady beneath you. the crowd parted like water, their whispers following you like shadows. you felt that your dress was transparent, exposing your body to the their ravaging gaze. you made it halfway down the marble steps before sevika caught your arm. her touch was warm, familiar—everything you'd grown to love and now couldn't bear.

"please," she said, her voice rough with something like desperation. she couldn’t possibly understand what it meant to be desperate. "please."

"let go of me." you tried to pull away, but she was stronger. had always been stronger.

"we never meant—"

"what?" your voice cracked. "to hurt me? to make me look like a fool? do you think i love being a loser? that i would be fine because i would view this as some way of knowing what it was like to win?" you yanked harder, and suddenly you were falling.

the puddle wasn't deep, but it was enough. your dress—ambessa's dress—soaked through instantly, clinging to your skin like shame. you stayed there on your hands and knees, watching your tears make ripples in dirty water.

"stand up," ambessa's voice came from behind you, softer than you'd ever heard it. “come inside. we can—”

"no." you pushed yourself to your feet, water streaming from ruined silk. your makeup was running—you could feel it tracking down your cheeks, and somehow that small detail destroyed you more than anything else. for the first time in a long time, you felt ugly. "i don’t want to come inside."

when you looked up, they were both there. ambessa's perfect composure had cracked, showing something raw underneath. sevika looked like she wanted to reach for you again but didn't dare.

"were you laughing about it?" your voice was barely audible. "about how pathetic i was, falling for both of you?"

"no," sevika said quickly. "god, no. we didn't even know—"

"until when?"

"a week ago," ambessa admitted. the truth fell between you, landed hard.

you stepped back, barefoot now, heels dangling from one hand. "oh my god. were you ever going to tell me?”

their silence was answer enough. the air around you grew thin.

a scream rose up from the depths of you before you could stop it, and echoed wildly from the sides of surrounding buildings. you clutched at your face, eyes screwing shut as you let out a terrible heaving noise. you knew they were seeing you now as you really were: a frantic girl who clasped desperately at whatever she could get in order to save herself.

“i hate you,” you screamed at them, hurling the words like they were knives. “i hate you! i never want you to speak to me again.”

it was rendered useless because the three of you knew that simply wasn’t the truth.

“just—leave me alone,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

their expressions were unreadable. if you gave in to your delusions, you could believe that ambessa looked slightly ill.

you walked away, legs shaking, each step carrying you further from everything you'd thought was real. behind you, you could hear them arguing in harsh whispers, but you didn't turn around. the city lights blurred through your tears until everything was just a soft shape and shadow.

your apartment felt suffocating when you returned, the silence oppressive in its stillness. you sank onto the couch, your dress pooling around you like a shroud. the tears came in waves, each one more relentless than the last.

you thought of ambessa’s calculated charm, sevika’s quiet strength, the way they’d both made you feel seen, cherished. and then you thought of the lies. you reached for your phone, your fingers trembling as you typed out a message. but no words came. what could you possibly say? that you hated them? you’d done that. that you missed them already? that you wouldn’t know how to exist without them?

instead, you deleted their numbers, one by one, the act feeling both liberating and excruciating. for the first time in what felt like forever, you were truly alone.

your mother was right. you were such a fun girl, but impossible to love. when someone looked at you, they’d never see someone worth settling down with. another wail unearthed itself, reverberating through the grave of your body. you twisted, holding yourself with your own arms as you felt the grief break you down.

you would never see them again. there was nothing worse than this, not now. you felt like you’d be better off dead.

ACT III: DEFORMATION.

ambessa hadn’t slept in days.

the boardroom’s fluorescent lights cast harsh shadows across her sharp features as she reviewed contracts she couldn’t focus on. every word blurred into the next, her thoughts returning to the look on your face when the truth unraveled.

“i don’t think i can fix this,” she had told sevika the night it happened, her voice hollow as they sat in the dim confines of her private office.

sevika hadn’t responded, her silence cutting deeper than any argument could. ambessa could tell her wife blamed her, and in some ways, she couldn’t disagree.

sevika, in response, buried herself in her work. her nights were spent overseeing global operations, her jaw clenched tight as she barked orders to underlings down the phone who didn’t dare question her unrelenting pace.

but even the chaos of the company’s industrial sprawl couldn’t drown out the memory of you. the sound of your pleausre haunted her—high and wispy as she ate at you. her dreams were vivid, stuck on the way you’d lit up when you talked about the things you loved—things she hadn’t known enough to ask about.

they’d both lost you, and they felt it in the empty spaces you’d left behind.

ambessa, meanwhile, pulled back. she gave the reins to her daughter for an indeterminate amount of time, something viewed as a largely positive and a sign of trust. but those who knew her interpreted it as a sign of grave danger.

her days were spent much like yours, wrapped in the endless heart of her bed which she only left to sink underneath the soapy water of a warm bath. there were several evenings where sevika would stumble home, slightly drunk but coherent enough to check on ambessa and yank her from the bottom of the bath.

“no,” she rasped, her hand tight on ambessa’s thick wrist. “you face it.”

and you?

well, eventually you realized that the world would continue to move on. blessedly, your breakdown hadn’t hit the headlines or social media platforms. you knew this had to be the work of them, but it was the least you deserved. you cut all arrangemtns you had leftover. the gifts were boxed up and put into storage.

despite your dramatics, you reminded yourself to not be stupid. all cash you had kept was deposited into your bank account, in increments so it wasn’t flagged as suspicious. you had well over thousands, so you broke your lease and found a block several miles from where you used to be.

you’d invited clleo to live with you, but she’d refused citing her current suitor as her preferred living situation. she felt that he was the one, that they would marry. you felt your bitterness rise up, but you shot it right in the middle of its scaled head. you were happy for her, you said instead of “he doesn’t mean it. please don’t believe him.”

please send an invite.

she’d cupid your face and kissed your cheek. of course. you’ve been with me through everything.

so, you broke another lease and left the city.

ACT IV: REVIVAL.

true to her word, clleo did get married, and she did more than invite you. you were her maid of honor; the only bridesmaid at that. this meant that you were captured into a lavish gown that showed more skin than you thought would be appropriate.

“we can’t forget where we came from,” clleo had said coquettishly, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder. she treated you so fragilely now, and you clung to it. you were pretending it was something else.

the wedding was a spectacle of opulence—ivory drapes cascading from every corner of the venue, chandeliers dripping crystal tears, and flowers so fragrant they felt like an embrace. the air buzzed with the cloying sweetness of a celebration meant to declare love eternal. you floated through it all, a wraith in your own right, bound by duty and the magnetic pull of clleo’s joy. you wore the dress she picked for you: black satin that crushed in on itself like paper whenever you moved and clung like sin, with lace so delicate it felt like a secret. it revealed too much and not enough all at once. you wondered if she’d done it on purpose, if she’d wanted you to stand out or to feel exposed. to embarrass you.

no, this was clleo. you were simply…paranoid now.

the ceremony was a blur, a kaleidoscope of vows and veils, of clleo’s radiant smile and the way her hand trembled in her husband’s. you caught the bouquet because she’d aimed it at you, her laugh like champagne bubbles bursting in the air. it was later, during the reception, that you felt it—that electric hum at the back of your neck, the awareness of being watched. you turned, and there they were.

ambessa and sevika.

they stood together, an impenetrable force against the crowd. ambessa’s gaze was as sharp as ever, her golden gown gleaming meanly, a study in power and restraint. sevika, beside her, had the air of someone caught between worlds, her hand resting on a glass of something dark, her eyes locked on you. they hadn’t been invited. you knew this because clleo would have warned you. yet here they were, as if summoned by the threads of some cruel, cosmic joke.

your stomach tightened, but you refused to look away. instead, you tilted your chin, the soft wave of your hair catching the light, and took a slow sip of wine. if they wanted to haunt you, they would have to work for it.

it didn’t take long. ambessa approached first, her steps deliberate, her presence cutting through the crowd like a blade. “you look beautiful,” she said, her voice low enough that it felt like a secret. you hated how your skin warmed under her gaze.

“you shouldn’t be here,” you replied, though the edge in your voice felt dull, worn down by something deeper.

sevika joined her then, her expression inscrutable but her proximity unnerving. “we needed to see you,” she said, her voice rougher, as if it cost her something to speak.

“at a wedding? how romantic.” you let the words hang, your lips curving into a smile that didn’t reach your eyes. “good thing it’s not mine.”

sevika’s lips twitched, and you scowled. your pain was not for her amusement.

“[name], we made mistakes,” ambessa said, and for the first time, there was something fragile in her tone, a crack in the glass. it distracted you from your ire. “but we haven’t stopped thinking about you.”

you set your glass down, your fingers trembling against the crystal stem. “i don’t think this is the time or place.”

“when is?” sevika countered, her voice steady but her eyes revealing something raw. “you’ve been avoiding us.”

“i said i never wanted to speak to either one of you again and yet, here you are,” you said, your voice sharper now, cutting through the haze of alcohol and longing. “do you think crashing a wedding will fix what you broke?”

ambessa’s jaw tightened, but she didn’t look away. “we’re not here to fix it. we’re here because we can’t let it end like this. and it’s not crashing if the groom extends an invite at the behest of the bride.”

your heart stuttered, and for a moment, the noise of the reception faded into a dull roar. clleo’s laughter rang out from somewhere behind you, a reminder of where you were, of what you’d tried so hard to rebuild. why did everyone betray you?

“i can’t do this,” you whispered, stepping back. the movement felt like tearing yourself in two.

“baby girl,” sevika said, her voice low, almost pleading. “look at me. this isn’t some big scheme, okay? let’s talk. we don’t even have to do it here. we can go anywhere you fucking want. just like before, mama.”

you shook your head, the weight of their words pressing against the fragile walls you’d built around yourself. “i need air,” you said, your voice barely audible, and before they could respond, you turned and slipped into the crowd.

“[name!]” ambessa called.

fuck being the tiger's bride, you were the tiger. you stood your ground, kept walking.

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the gardens were quiet, the air cool against your skin as you leaned against the wrought-iron railing. the night sky stretched endlessly above you, an intricate canvas of stars that felt too indifferent to your pain. but the world wasn’t responsible for soothing you.

you’d thought the distance would help, that the cool air would clear your head, but instead, it only magnified the ache in your chest.

you heard them before you saw them, the soft crunch of gravel underfoot. you didn’t turn, didn’t acknowledge their presence, but you felt it—that charge, that unbearable pull that had slaughtered you repeatedly since the beginning.

“i didn’t ask you to follow me.”

“we’re not asking for forgiveness,” ambessa said, her voice soft but firm. “we are willing—we’re willing to take what we can get. we want to make this right.”

you turned then, your eyes meeting hers, and for the first time, you saw it—the vulnerability, the regret. sevika stood slightly behind her, her expression shadowed but her eyes fixed on you with the same intensity.

“and what does that look like?” you asked, your voice breaking despite yourself. “what could you possibly do to undo the damage?”

ambessa stepped closer, her hand hovering near yours but not quite touching. “we can’t undo it,” she admitted. “but we can promise to be better. to show you that you’re the only thing that matters.”

“you’re both so good with words. but words don’t mean anything if they’re not backed by action.” you laughed then, a bitter sound that cut through the stillness. “you always made me feel like i mattered. that’s why it hurt so much. i have no place between you.

sevika finally spoke, her voice quieter but no less resolute. “then let us prove it. on your terms.”

“you’re not good for me.”

ambessa glided forward, caught your chin inbetween her thumb and index finger.

“nothing in this world that we want with so much intensity will ever be good for us.”

you looked between them, your heart a battlefield between desire and self-preservation. the silence stretched, heavy with the weight of everything unsaid. finally, you broke out of her grasp, a small, tentative gesture that felt like stepping off a cliff.

“i have no place between you,” you said again, your voice barely more than a whisper.

sevika's shoulders sagged with disappointment, but ambessa’s lips curved into the faintest hint of a smile. she was like a bloodhound with weakness.

“is that what you want, lamb?” you looked up at her, sensing a shift in the air. “you want to be between us? coddled, warm, and safe?”

“ambessa—” sevika began, but the other woman held up a hand.

“you would’ve been fine if you had know that we were married from the beginning, hmm? is that it? your conscience would’ve been sated, right? because it’s not homewrecking or infidelity if the partners are aware of the others transgressions.”

“that’s not fair,” you snapped.

“mmm, well life isn’t. besides, you must be stupid if you think every client you’ve been with hasn’t once had someone waiting at home. this is your life, little lamb. your permanent affliction,” ambessa sneered. “i think you like it.”

you knew this game well. she pushed you, said the best things to make you act your worst. if you gave in, she won.

“fuck you, ambessa.”

“gladly,” she said with a small smile.

you scoffed, irritated beyond belief and moved to storm past her. by doing so, you gave her what she wanted. as you made an effort to leave, she cinched your waist with her arm and pulled you back into her chest. you could feel her breasts against your back, full and ripe like fruit.

“what are you doing?” you asked incredulously.

she didn’t answer, only hiked your dress up to press a ringed hand to your cunt. she held it there, groping the warmth of you until you were leaking in response. you let out a strangled squeal, legs kicking to no avail.

“see? you want us so badly. it’s like an instinct.”

you glanced at sevika, hoping for some fucking common sense but found her gazing at your lace-clad panties with something unfathomly angry lurking across her face.

“who the fuck gave you those?” she said quietly.

you stopped struggling, looking at her fully now. her stormy gaze lifted, piercing you like a spear through weak flesh.

“it wasn’t me, and ambessa never gifted you shit like this.”

“i had—i had other clients,” you answered and she rolled her shoulders, skulking forward. “but i bought these myself. i don’t see anyone else anymore. i can’t—i couldn’t. it was hard.”

her face softened at that, and she came closer. her large body covered the front of you, shielding your exposed body from any prying eyes. this meant that ambessa could slide the fabric to the side and dip a finger into your cunt. the slide was slick due to your drooling arousal, but the pain still startled you.

she was large, almost too much, but it seemed to burst a part of you that had been straining at its locks. you let loose a silent cry, shuddering desperately in her grasp as she explored you tenderly. sevika cooed, claiming your mouth in a bruising kiss.

“hold on,” she murmured into your mouth and you clutched onto her, gripping tighter as ambessa gave you over.

sevika walked you over to a small alcove, expertly hidden from immediate vision and grunted as she held you up with one arm—removing her jacket with the other. once the concrete floor was covered appropriately, she lowered you on top of it carefully.

you released her, but barely had a moment to thank her before she was on you. your first thought was that it was like before: relentless, tender, and crushing. her hands slid up your thighs until they grasped at your hips. you rocked into her, moaning softly as she squeezed the soft meat of your stomach. your breath came fast, labored and fueled by aching.

“it’s okay, baby. ‘m right here,” sevika said, her voice low and firm.

she pulled back, spreading your legs till the pink of your pussy was revealed to her hungry gaze. it winked at her, clenching around nothing the longer she looked.

“jesus, i’ve missed this,” she murmured.

you flushed, body pulsing hot with flame. from the side of you, ambessa came prowling. she lowered herself to her knees, back arching neatly as she crawled into the apex of your thighs. her mouth descended upon you with a fervor, her lips closing around your clit and sucking. your back bowed until you were practically hunched over her, hands in her thick hair.

she only adjusted herself so that she could better lick into you, her tongue lapping at every crevice of your cunt. you were dripping all over her face, hips bucking as you fucked forward onto her tongue. her hands came to cup the peach of your ass, squeezing and tugging until you felt like nothing more than a piece of meat. after a moment, ambessa pulled back and laughed as you tried to follow.

“sorry, little lamb, but i need to know if i’m doing a good job” she watched you, eyes sharp. “i know you are.”

you shivered at that, and she smiled. impatiently, you further opened your legs and pushed your sopping pussy toward her.

“c’mon. please.” when nothing happened, you let out a groan. “you’re doing a good job.”

“who’s doing a good job?” ambessa asked, moving closer.

you shivered again, your brain beginning to mottle and smear.

“you are, mommy.”

“fuck,” sevika groaned.

satisfied, ambessa suctioned her lips back over you. you let out a high moan, pushing your chest out. sevika reached over, tugging the bust down and exposing your tits. your nipples were straining toward her, so she dragged one in between your teeth. with a cry of surprise, you slammed your thighs closed around ambessa’s bobbing head. she did nothing to open them herself, only slapped a hand on your inner thigh to get you to correct yourself.

“yes, fuck,” you cried. “fuck, please. please. ohhhh.”

ambessa shook her head back and forth, letting herself get messy as she pushed her face deeper inside of your pussy. you were fully fucking her face now, your clit engorged and begging. whatever filter you’d had before was gone now; your mouth ran like water from a faucet.

“yeah. yeah, mommy, like that. eat your baby’s cunt. lick your girl’s pink little pussy.”

ambessa moaned, her nails digging into the skin of your ass. you bounced as much as you could, that warmth coiling deep inside your stomach. sevika was still teasing your tits, but she had a hand inside of herslef now—her pants pushed down for better access.

when you realized she was trying to rub one out, you came with a primal grunt. ambessa attempted to pull back but you kept her where she was with a firm hand at the nape of her neck. breathlessly, you coaxed sevika up for a kiss and then pulled her away by her hair.

“i want you to touch her,” you instructed. your voice was shaky as you edged toward your second orgasm.

it took her a minute to register what you meant and you watched her cheeks darken, her eyes flickering toward ambessa’s rippling back inbetween your legs and then back to you.

“i know you want to, sevi,” you murmured.

your mind was almost gone now; you were so close to heaven.

you could see her warring with herself, but you also knew her love for you would win out. with a curt nod, she moved until she was behind ambessa and lifted her dress until she was face to face with her naked ass. with an efficent movement, sevika pushed ambessa’s legs open so she could smell the musk of her large cunt. there was a moment where you weren’t sure if she would obey, but then she dived in—licking a large stripe between ambessa’s folds. you seized around ambessa’s tongue as she squealed in surprise, your orgasm pouring from you like honey.

you puhsed her off of you and crawled onto all fours, squatting slightly to make the push of your fingers easier as you entered yourself. despite not pleasuring you anymore, ambessa made no effort to move as sevika slapped a hand on her ass as she slurped at her pussy.

“holy shit,” ambessa muttered and you grinned.

“have you—have you touched each other like this before?” you asked, voice breaking as you reached that spot long your walls. “did you fuck when i left to try to stave the guilt?”

there was no answer, but ambessa stiffened. you laughed, bright and a little unhinged. it was confirmation that they’d thought about, but had never actually followed through. you were in a squatting position now, positioning your hips as you rode your own fingers. you wrist twinged in discomfort, but you were more determined to cum for a third time.

faster and faster, you rode. your head was turned up toward the ceiling of the alcove, your tits bouncing as you began to crest that wave. you closed your eyes, focusing on the shaky inhales of ambessa and the wet squelches of sevika feasting on her.

there was a pause, so you opened your eyes and found sevika flipping ambessa over so that the bigger woman sat on her face. like this, she was even more insatiable. she rocked ambessa back and forth on her face, spreading her own thighs weakly as heat cascaded through her.

you weren’t sure what did it: sevika’s newfound desperation to actually fuck her wife, ambessa’s unrelenting eye contact as she came, or the high whine sevika released when ambessa leaned back to fuck two fingers into her frantically pulsing cunt.

but whatever it was ravaged you. you screamed as you came for the third time, legs trembling as you squirted all over yourself and sevika’s suit jacket. the comedown was impossible. you were incoherent, moaning wildly as the pleasure possessed you.

you heard them both scrambling to move toward you, but you held a hand out. your neck bent, your body settling onto all fours like a lame animal as you let your cunt flutter and clench through the remnants of your orgasm. your chest heaved frantically, but you were euphoric. you’d done it, reached Heaven and taken control.

you glanced up at them and know from the look on their faces, you’ve never been this beautiful. if this was what the french called a little death, you wanted to die forever.

“this is your place,” ambessa said hoarsely. “you belong right in the center. you are the only one who understands. you are our center.”

sevika lay next to her, and she said nothing for a long while. then her face turned toward you. you met her gaze unflinching.

“baby girl, please. please.”

you thought you were the loser.

“it has to be different,” you finally said. the two women broke into identical smiles. “it has to be. i want you to be transparent with me. i’m not a little child.”

you thought you were down for the count.

“like you said,” you continued, staring right at them. “you are my life. this is my life.”

but here you were, the last woman standing.

© hcneymooners.

⚚ special taglist: @venusiandyke @thatonetargaryen @drgnflyteabox @y2kas13 @baeumonde @blackdykegirlblogger @slut4sevika @sevikasllver @indigopearl96 @dut1fuldyk3 @imheadintothemountains @bambishaven @kirammansbow @sidefanficaccounttohidemyshame @nightlyconfusion @sevikasrightboob @half-of-a-gay @nsfwruru @yourlovesicklibra @tnash-tammy @sweetcinnamoncookie6 @bluferret @doppelman @savedforlaterr @sevikasserafim @fruitfulfashion @soniiyi @namuranguinhos @16novvs @bubblestrbls @spidercat-soccerfan @pllduniverse @sugrcookiiee @iwasholic @sevslefthand @starting6over @fxngsfxgxrty @leone007 @ambessaswhore @jvalentinelvr @bella-goths-wife @maaaaaaaaaaari @elena0497 @powderpinkandsweeet @sweetcinnamoncookie6 @pearldaisy @sevikas-whore @wolfessa @lazyartizt

[pochaccoups]

facetime — choi seungcheol & yoon jeonghan

pairing — choi seungcheol x yoon jeonghan x f!reader

summary — when three people in a relationship want to fuck but one of them is in a different country, facetime comes in pretty handy.

wc — 4k

warnings — nsfw content minors dni! smut, established polyamorous relationship, threesome (technically), phone sex, butt plugs, anal and vaginal fingering, oral (m and f receiving), masturbation, so much dirty talk, soft dom!seungcheol, brat tamer!seungcheol, prone bone, creampie, slight daddy kink, reader referred to as a girl, a lot of ‘cheollie’ and ‘hannie’ sorry but i think they sound cute

author’s note — umm hi can u tell i had so much fun writing this …… this will be part of a poly jeongcheol series i have in the works so pls stay tuned and enjoy !!! :>

seungcheol: just finished up the show, what are you up to?

jeonghan: busy.

Attached is a photo that’s slightly shaky and dimly lit, but Seungcheol can make out every detail of you with Jeonghan’s cock halfway down your throat. 

It takes less than a second for Seungcheol’s caller ID to pop up on Jeonghan’s phone screen, and Jeonghan doesn’t hesitate to answer. 

“Yah… You know I hate being left out,” is the first thing Seungcheol says. The sound of his deep voice makes you draw your mouth off of Jeonghan.

“Cheollie?” you ask, beaming as you snatch your boyfriend’s phone from his hands so that you can see your other boyfriend through the screen. 

“Hi, pretty,” Seungcheol says, waving. He looks hot, but that’s a perpetual characteristic of his. He hasn’t removed his makeup yet, and his hair, getting longer, is still styled from the show. “Miss me?”

“So much. We both do,” you say with a grin. You make a show of mouthing at Jeonghan’s cock for the camera, sticking out your tongue so you can slap the tip on it, swirling it around, all with a faint mischievous gleam in your eyes at the sound of one boyfriend’s whines and the other’s sulking.

“Yeah? Doesn’t really seem like you do,” Seungcheol says, laying back on a bed that’s way too soft, too cold, too far away. 

“Seungcheollie, you know how needy our girl is-ah,” Jeonghan pipes up, moaning as you wrap your lips around him and bob your head up and down. 

“I do know, and you’re not innocent either, Jeonghan. You miss getting your pretty little ass fucked, don’t you?” 

You worry Jeonghan will bust then and there from the way his cock twitches in your mouth, but fuck was Seungcheol right. It’s why you all prefer to have sex with all three of you present, because at this point having someone missing feels… weird. Not bad. Definitely not. But the absence of a third lover becomes far too apparent.

Right now, you and Jeonghan don’t have much of a choice though. Duty calls, meaning Seungcheol is touring on the other side of the world—has been for the last two weeks and will be for another two weeks. Jeonghan would be with him if it weren’t for his enlistment. Alas, you have Seungcheol’s voice to do what it does best: tell you two exactly what to do. 

“Take all of him, baby, you know you can,” he says, soft and slightly commanding in a way that makes you want to do good just for him, make him proud. And you’ve taken Seungcheol, who’s a little longer and far thicker, all the way down your throat many, many times before that swallowing Jeonghan’s entire length feels like a mere warmup. 

Pride swells through you when your two boyfriends curse above you, filling you with an eagerness to give them more. So while one of your hands holds the phone, albeit shakingly, your other hand pumps the base of Jeonghan’s cock, in rhythm with your mouth as you bob up and down. It’s wet and obscene, the way you lap up the precum that leaks from your boyfriend’s tip only to let it spill from your lips and drool all over him, all over your fingertips. 

Your eyes never break away from Seungcheol, who’s chewing on his bottom lip and staring at you with eyes that are both clouded over with desire and dark with concentration. If you know your boyfriend then he’s thinking of all the things he would do if he was in the same room as you two.

Jeonghan doesn’t expect it when one of your spit-slick fingers creeps down to his ass and traces his hole, and he squirms and cries as you prod at his opening before pushing inside. He’s taken Seungcheol many, many times, too, that your finger should feel like a warmup, but two weeks without his boyfriend’s cock stretching him out is torture, so the slide of your digit in and out is a sweet relief that he’s forgotten. 

You pull your mouth away from him, sitting up on your knees so that you can angle the camera for Seungcheol to watch as your finger dips in, all the way to your knuckle, then back out of Jeonghan’s hole. 

“He’s so whiny today, Cheollie.”

“Mm, more than usual, huh?” he replies, licking his lips, his hand reaching to his crotch to palm at it just a little. He thinks about how his fingers are twice as thick as yours, how Jeonghan would sob if it was his hands inside him. 

“He misses your fat cock,” you say, and Seungcheol feels his sanity jump straight out of his hotel window. You’ve always proven detrimental to his patience and self-control, taking years off of your poor boyfriend’s life with your bratty ways. “Right, Hannie?” you say, right as you pull your finger out of him, grinning as he squirms and curses under his breath as a reply.

You only stop fingering him because you have an idea. With the phone still in hand, you dangle yourself off the side of the king bed to open one of the bedside table drawers, grab the silver heart-shaped plug and bottle of lube, then clamber back between your boyfriend’s legs. Jeonghan watches with glistening eyes as you drizzle the plug with lube. Once it’s drenched, you flip the phone camera around, letting Seungcheol watch as you press the tapered end of the plug against Jeonghan’s hole. The cold toy makes him flinch at first, and he shudders as you circle his rim with it until he’s thoroughly smeared with the sticky liquid. 

The sound Jeonghan makes when you push the plug inside of him is pitiful, and it’s in harmony with a deep groan of approval from Seungcheol. You’re the furthest one from dominant among the three of you, and yet you have these men dangerously wrapped around your finger. Your men.

“There,” you say, content, like you’ve just painted a masterpiece—and your boyfriend’s pretty ass with a cute heart-shaped butt plug nestled inside comes pretty close. 

“That’s my girl. So thoughtful,” says Seungcheol, and his praise ignites you with a sense of accomplishment that rivals the highest of promotions. 

“Can I make him eat me out now?” you ask, because it’s Cheol who does this best; sets the pace, tells you what to do, lets you sit in the palm of his hand while he does all the thinking for the three of you. A true leader, through and through. 

“Keep sucking Hannie off, baby, just for a bit,” is his instruction. It would be easy to disobey him, yes, to disconnect the call and turn off the phone if you so pleased, but the thing about Seungcheol is that even when his voice is soft, it still commands. 

You pout only for the sake of pouting because, really, having Jeonghan’s cock in your mouth is one of your favourite pastimes. You waste no time swallowing him all the way down to his base again, only to pop right back off him just to hear a tortured moan from him. You fall back into an up and down bobbing rhythm then, steadily, lips wrapped tight around your boyfriend’s length in the way that you know won’t make him last long. 

“Jeonghannie,” Seungcheol calls out, but the man in question is too busy whining and whimpering to hear him. When he’s close his brain all but shuts off and the only thing he can do is take whatever he’s getting with pretty, pretty moans. 

“Baby, don’t let him cum yet,” Seungcheol urges you instead. 

Jeonghan nearly sobs this time when you pop your mouth off his cock, but there’s a force in Seungcheol’s voice that compels you to listen. “Yes, daddy,” you say—the cherry on top.

Seungcheol drags a hand over his face, groaning. “Fuck, you two want me dead, huh?”

“Yeah, well, you two are disgusting… and annoying,” says Jeonghan, who sounds thoroughly irritated as a cute frown knits his brows together. 

Poor, poor you, with not one but two needy, jealous boyfriends who can’t stand not being the subjects of all your affection. If it was you in Seungcheol’s position, alone on the other side of the world, you would never get this sulky. You’d be completely rational about it. Obviously.

The urge to soothe Jeonghan comes as an instinct, one that makes you crawl up from between his legs so that you can straddle his slender waist and kiss his pouting lips. He melts into you when you do, mouth moulding against yours so sweetly, his hands falling to your waist and the tips of his fingers dancing softly against your skin. The Facetime call is forgotten, much to Seungcheol’s dismay, as you drop the phone to the bed in favour of cradling Jeonghan’s cheeks in your hands so that you can kiss him harder. Your crotch, still clothed, rocks back and forth over his erection and soon you’re moaning into one another’s mouths, muffled by your tongues that are swirling together. 

Jeonghan doesn’t have half of Seungcheol’s strength to manhandle you around, so he opts to gently guide you off his lap and onto the bed until you’re underneath him. He kisses you once, twice, thrice, leaves you reeling as he moves on to pepper your neck with soft nibbles and scrapes of his teeth. He pulls away for a moment only to drag your t-shirt (one of Seungcheol’s, of course) up and over your head. 

Now that you’re less occupied with Jeonghan’s lips, you pick up the phone again and bring the camera up to your face, grinning at Seungcheol’s small pout on the screen. If you could only hop through the phone and into his lap, you would do it in a heartbeat. 

“Cheollie, wanna see your cock, please,” you say, shivering as Jeonghan mouths at one of your nipples. He flicks it with the tip of his tongue as his hands reach up to grasp your tits delicately, and you sigh when his warm, wet mouth envelops one of your hardened buds. 

“Not yet, baby, I’ll take it out when Jeonghan fucks you, okay?” 

Seungcheol chuckles fondly at your unhappy hum, so he adds, “I wanna cum with you two, yeah?”

“Okay, fine- wait, Hannie,” you whine. “My boobs.”

He peers up, already between your legs, having decided he was done giving attention to your tits. You see right through it—your boyfriend is nothing if not vengeful. 

“You’re too spoiled,” he quips, peeling your shorts and panties down your legs, exposing your drooling pussy to him. 

“And you’re used to Cheollie doing everythi-ahh!” Jeonghan cuts you off when he licks your cunt without warning, sending your eyes rolling back into your head and your hand grabbing a fistful of his now-short hair. He’s far from rough and aggressive, but it’s precisely the patient softness of his touch that leaves you keening for more. 

“Baby, can you do me a favour?” Seungcheol asks, practically cooing as he watches your eyes glaze over with pleasure.

But all you can focus on is the way that Jeonghan’s warm tongue flicks lazily over your clit as well as the grip of his fingers on your thighs. 

“Baby?” Seungcheol tries again, only a little louder. This time your eyes flick to him on the screen and you make a little affirmative noise. “Will you flip the phone screen around for me, please? I wanna watch Hannie eat your pretty pussy.”

You do as he asks, pointing the camera to give Seungcheol a view of his boyfriend between his girlfriend’s thighs. 

“Good girl,” he says, breathier now, his tone darker. It’s deliberate; malicious, you would say—his praise makes you a whiny, needy mess. His voice alone turns you into a slut and he knows that because you’d told him that, word for word. “And since I’m not there, can you play with your tits for me, baby? The way that I would do it? I know it’s not the same, but it’ll still feel good.” 

“Mhm,” you moan. You find yourself closing your eyes as you let go of Jeonghan’s hair and bring your hand to cup your own breast, to squeeze and grope at it, to tweak and tug at your nipple, all while imagining that you’re leaned against your boyfriend’s sturdy, broad body and that it’s his big, unrelenting hand cupping your tits and not your own. 

At the same time, Jeonghan eats your pussy like the fiend that he is. Unlike Seungcheol, who lacks the control to stop himself from ravaging you like an animal until your pussy is raw and puffy, Jeonghan is much more, as he is in all aspects of his life, calculated. He’ll string you along with swipes of his tongue that seem coy until he’s making passes through your folds, prodding at your dripping, awaiting entrance. He licks into your hole and sips at your arousal like it’s honey, intent on making you fall apart slowly.

“How does his mouth feel, angel? Tell him,” says Seungcheol, whose lips have gotten swollen from his relentless chewing on them.

“God, Hannie, feels so good,” you squeak, your eyes still screwed shut as if that’ll help soothe the heat that burns through your body from Jeonghan’s mouth. Your fingers keep pinching at your nipple, and then Jeonghan slips two of his fingers into your heat, sending your hips bucking against his face and leaving you whining desperately, shamelessly. 

While his mouth makes out with your cunt, Jeonghan’s fingers dip in and out of you, massaging at your most sensitive spot over and over. He finds it with practiced ease, and he knows by now exactly what kind of vigour it needs to have you crying. He’s practically petting at your insides, your walls clamping around his fingers as your moans start to grow louder.

“H-hannie, I’m close, please, right there,” you squirm as your walls attempt to suck his fingers in.

You don’t see it, but his eyes flash with something devilish. Your other boyfriend sees it, though. 

“Jeonghan, don’t even think about edging her.”

Jeonghan smirks with mischief, letting his fingers do the work as he pulls his mouth away from your pussy. 

“Let me have my fun, Seungcheollie.” 

“If I did that neither you nor her would cum at all,” is your other boyfriend’s response. 

There’s silence as Jeonghan ponders whether he should obey or disobey. All the while, you’re mere inches away from your edge, hot with frustration because it’s so close; you’re so close. You just need a little bit more. It’s not too much to ask.

“Hannie, please…”

And he can’t find it in himself to deprive you any longer, so he crooks his fingers and works them as fast as he possibly can until you’re clenching, gushing, writhing all around his hand, wailing his name as you grab at his wrist but he still won’t stop. 

“Such a good boy, huh, Jeonghannie? Making her cum so good,” comes Seungcheol’s voice, sounding more breathless with each time he speaks. “Now we’re all happy.”

It’s only once your walls have stopped spasming around his fingers that Jeonghan finally slips them out of you and pops them straight into his mouth, licking them clean of every drop of your sugary arousal. He makes sure to gaze directly into the camera as his tongue laves and swirls over each one of his digits, knowing Seungcheol’s dick is twitching at the sight.

“I haven’t cum yet though. So I’m not happy yet,” he says, dragging a finger out of his mouth with a pop.

You sit up on your elbows with your cute, blissed out features, your eyes falling to his red-hard cock. 

“Come here and fuck me, then,” you say, impatient, like he didn’t just give you an orgasm. You paw at the hem of his shirt (also Seungcheol’s) and bite your lip as he pulls it over his head, letting your hands roam over his pale torso.

“Ride me?” he asks. How predictable. If it’s not Seungcheol taking him from behind then it’s you on top of him. God forbid Yoon Jeonghan does the work.

“Actually, I have a better idea. And this way Cheollie can see us both,” you say with a grin. 

With the phone on the front-facing camera, you prop it up against the headboard and roll onto your stomach, craning your head to look at him over your shoulder. 

“Like this?” Jeonghan asks, straddling the backs of your thighs.

“Yeah,” you say, parting your legs a little, arching your back and raising your hips—presenting your soaked, messy hole to him. “Try not to get tired.”

He responds with a half-hearted smack to your ass and Cheol scoffs out a chuckle. Jeonghan slides his cock between your folds, coating it with your slick, revelling in your tiny gasps every time it catches on your entrance. You’re prepared to whine and nag at your boyfriend to hurry up, but you suppose he’s feeling just as impatient as you are because he’s pushing in before you can even speak up. You look at Seungcheol, mouth dropping as you’re stuffed full with Jeonghan’s cock until he’s buried to the hilt inside you. His hands land on either side of your elbows so that he can hover over you, reel his hips back, and fuck himself into you like that. 

In this position, Jeonghan’s length brushes right against your gummy, sensitive spot with every stroke, making you keen for more even though he’s just started. 

“Harder, Hannie,” you sigh, pushing your ass up against his hips.

Instead of listening, he drops his head to the crook of your shoulder and kisses your skin. His breath tickles your ear when he whispers to you: “ah, what’s the rush, angel?”

You turn your head to catch his gaze, to drink in the sight of his face as he takes what he needs from you; his cheeks pink, his eyes tired and full of hunger. His lips, plump and enticing, evoke an unrivalled craving within you and he reads you well, brings his mouth to yours to give you as much satiation as he can muster. 

Seungcheol sits, silent, waiting. His patience is mere embers as he watches you two, his boyfriend and his girlfriend, tangled within one another. The wet slap of Jeonghan’s balls against the back of your thighs; the smacking of your lips, teeth, and tongues. He misses it. Fuck, he could go insane. 

“Cheollie,” you whine, when Jeonghan’s lips are no longer enough. “Want you to feel good too.” 

“Yeah, okay,” he replies, abandoning all semblance of the self-control he’d displayed up until now. It’s time, anyway, he thinks. He’s held off long enough. He puts his phone down and there’s shuffling as he strips himself of his sweat-soaked outfit from the show and settles upon the bed sheets once more. 

Saliva pools from the sides of your mouth when he angles his camera to show you his hand wrapped around his thick, erect dick and God, what you’d do to have it bruising the back of your throat until you’re gagging, letting him defile you all while he coos the sweetest of praises at you. 

“Daddy, I miss your cock so bad,” you admit in a weak whimper, shivering when Jeonghan angles himself deeper inside you.

“Yeah? Miss how I’d fuck your pretty little mouth?”

“Fuck, she’s clenching so hard around me, Seungcheollie,” Jeonghan grits. “Greedy little thing.”

“I mean, it’s our fault one cock’s not enough to make her happy anymore,” says Seungcheol, sighing with relief as he thumbs at his leaking tip, squeezing his fist around it, reminiscent of the way that you and Jeonghan like to tease him.

“Like I said,” says Jeonghan as he pushes two of his fingers between your parted lips. “Spoiled.”

You moan around them, staring straight into the camera as you suck on them, staring at Seungcheol, who starts to pump his hand up and down his cock. He wants to shut his eyes and pretend it’s your hand, or Jeonghan’s hand, or one of your tight, warm holes, but he can’t take his eyes off of his phone screen no matter how hard he wants to, and, well, he doesn’t want to.

He jerks himself off to the same rhythm that Jeonghan’s hips grind into yours. Seungcheol likes things a little faster, usually, more rough, but it’s Jeonghan who’s inside you right now, not him, so he matches his boyfriend’s lazy but not too slow pace, one that’s just enough to give you a gradual stimulation. 

There’s something about the whole thing—being fucked on camera, being teased with Seungcheol’s cock when you can’t have it—it has you way more excited than you expected. Way more turned on than you expected. It shows in the floods of arousal that drip from your pussy and dampen yours and Jeonghan’s thighs, in the way you’re whinier and more sensitive than usual.

Jeonghan and Seungcheol’s own noises don’t help. In fact they spur you on, coax you closer to your edge, urge the heat in your belly to grow. When Seungcheol isn’t giving deep, rasped curses, he’s letting out pretty, breathy, borderline whimpering moans. Jeonghan’s sounds are as angelic as he is. His voice is a holy choir in your ear, heavenly and soft as he gasps with exertion and pleasure; as he does things to you that any God would frown upon.

Jeonghan, too, is more sensitive. With the plug constantly brushing at his prostate, he can’t help but screw his eyes shut and pretend it’s his big, buff boyfriend fucking his girth into him. It makes his thrusts grow raggedy, like he’s more heavy. His body weight presses into you as his arms start to ache just a little. He’s impossibly deep in your guts like this and it feels so fucking good that your brain starts to melt. 

Seungcheol recognises the look in your eye—absent, like you’re starting to tap out and letting yourself become consumed by bliss.

“Is she getting close, angel?” he questions, punctuating it with a moan, the slick glide of his hand up and down his cock like music in your ears.

Jeonghan hums affirmatively. “Pretty pussy’s choking me,” he says, his voice cracking, his composure with it. He tries to put more vigour in his thrusts, more determination. The sooner you cum, the sooner he cums. 

“Cum for Jeonghannie, baby,” Seungcheol urges softly. 

“Cum for me,” Jeonghan echoes. You don’t stand a chance.

The heat inside you coils up, then erupts. Jeonghan fucks you through your climax as you tremble beneath him, crying his name and clawing at the sheets below you. 

“There it is, my good girl,” Seungcheol coos, tightening his grip on his cock as he tugs at it harshly as though it could ever replicate the feeling of your warm walls clamping down on him as you cum. 

“Ah, fuck,” Jeonghan gasps, dropping his head to your shoulder, cock twitching. His next request is a broken, pathetic moan. “Ch-cheollie, cum with me.”

Jeonghan stills inside you, whimpering softly with every rope of cum that he spills inside you, letting you milk him of every last drop. At the same time, Seungcheol gives a resounding groan as he brings himself to his own release, cum splattering over his toned stomach. 

There’s a moment of silence, or, rather, nothing but a harmony of laboured breaths as the three of you come down from your orgasms. You give a noise of protest as Jeonghan suddenly rolls off of you, but his stamina is always drained after sex—especially when he’s doing the work. You shiver, both from the emptiness in your cunt and the cold air that hits you now that you no longer have your boyfriend’s body as a shield from it. 

“Seungcheollie’s gonna wanna see your cum leak out of me, you know,” you say. 

“You know me so well, baby,” is Seungcheol’s reply. 

Jeonghan rolls his eyes. He makes no effort to move from his spot, opting to stretch his arm above his head and pat around until he finds the phone. He sits up next to you, points the camera between your legs as he grips one of your ass cheeks and spreads you apart. 

There’s a screenshot sound as white drools from your spent hole.

“Seungcheol!” you shriek. “You pervert.”

“Coups-ya, send that to me.”

thank you for reading! reblogs and feedback are highly appreciated <3

tags — @svtiddiess @ylangelegy @simpxxstan @caibeauchicfashion

[aajjks]

Stuck With You. (m)

synopsis. Imagine being stuck in a room with a walking nightmare who really wants to fuck you.

genre: crack, 18+.

pairings: jungkook x fem reader.

warnings: stûck în â rôôm tôgêthêr trôpê, crîngê jûngkôôk, hôrnÿ jûngkôôk, tsûndêrê ÿn, sêxûâl jôkês, ônê bêd trôpê, hê jûst wânts tô hît ît wîth ÿôû ând lîvê hâppîlÿ êvêr âftêr.

note. If this flops- oh well. But if this becomes a hit, I will make it a series hehe, gif credits to owner, found it on Pinterest. OMG ENJOY!

You are absolutely going to lose your mind. Not because you’re stuck in a room—

no, that part isn’t even the problem. It’s who you’re stuck with.

“Don’t look so mad, babe. You’ll get wrinkles,” Jungkook says, leaning lazily against the wall with his arms crossed, looking every bit like he owns the place.

His black t-shirt clings to his annoyingly perfect body, and his smug grin stretches wider every time he catches your glare.

“You’re the reason we’re stuck in here, you idiot,” you snap, pacing the room. “Who even breaks a doorknob while trying to open the door?”

“It wasn’t my fault!” he protests, throwing his hands up. “The thing was loose—like, super loose. I barely touched it.”

You stop pacing and point at him. “You yanked it like you were in a strongman competition!”

Jungkook shrugs, like being accused of destroying things is just another Tuesday for him. “Maybe. But hey, at least we’ve got… each other?” His grin turns into that stupid wink he loves so much.

You groan and flop onto the bed. It creaks under your weight, and you make a face because this feels like the start of a very bad rom-com. “I can’t believe this. I have work tomorrow.”

Jungkook leans against the bedpost, towering over you with that annoyingly pretty face of his. “Relax, princess. I’m sure someone will fix it soon. Meanwhile…” His eyes trail down your body in that blatant, shameless way that only Jungkook can pull off. “…you’re looking pretty comfortable.”

“Stop staring at my tits, Jeon.” You cross your arms over your chest, even though you know it won’t stop him.

This is seriously ridiculous.

“I wasn’t,” he lies, biting back a grin.

“You were.”

“Okay, I was,” he admits, laughing. He flops down onto the bed beside you, making the mattress bounce slightly. He’s so close that you can feel the heat radiating off his body. “But you can’t really blame me. They’re right there.”

You grab a pillow and smack him with it, hard enough to knock some of the smugness out of him. He lets out an exaggerated groan, clutching his chest like you’ve mortally wounded him. “Abuse! yn, you’re abusing me!”

“You deserve it!” you say, your voice rising with every word.

you like being evil.

“Oh, come on.” He shifts closer, so close his shoulder brushes against yours. His voice drops, teasing and low. “Admit it. You’d miss me if I weren’t here.”

You scoff. “I’d celebrate.”

Jungkook gasps dramatically, his hand flying to his chest. “Cold. That was cold, yn.” He shakes his head, his messy hair falling into his eyes. “You’d be crying without me to entertain you.”

“I’d cry tears of joy.”

“Sure, sure,” he says, his grin widening. Then he leans in, his voice dropping again. “But… if you’re gonna cry, you might as well do it on my shoulder, babe.”

You hate the way your stomach flips at his tone. His big, stupid eyes are focused on you, and for once, they’re not looking at your chest.

You roll your eyes to hide how flustered you feel. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re irresistible,” he fires back, leaning in even closer. His breath tickles your skin, and you shove him away before he gets any ideas.

“Don’t even think about it.”

“What?” he says, feigning innocence as he lays back on the bed, his arms tucked behind his head. “I wasn’t thinking anything.”

“You’re always thinking something,” you say, narrowing your eyes.

“Maybe,” he admits, his lips twitching up into a smirk. “But if I told you, you’d probably hit me again.”

“You’re not wrong.”

He laughs, loud and carefree, and it’s so annoying that you can’t help but smile a little.

Even though he’s so fucking annoying.

Time passes slower than it should. You’re lying back now, one arm thrown over your face to block out the overhead light, trying to focus on literally anything other than the fact that you’re stuck in a room with Jeon Jungkook.

“yn,” Jungkook says after a while, his tone softer now.

“What?” you ask without looking at him.

“I’m bored.”

You sigh. “And what do you want me to do about it?”

“I don’t know… entertain me?”

You pull your arm off your face and give him a deadpan look. “What am I, a clown?”

His grin returns, and you immediately regret your choice of words. “You could put on a show for me, babe.”

You groan. “Shut up, Jeon.”

“Or,” he says, his voice dipping lower as he rolls onto his side to face you, “we could play a game.”

You narrow your eyes. “What kind of game?”

“Truth or dare.”

“No.”

“Oh, come on, don’t be boring.”

“I’m not playing truth or dare with you, Jungkook. I know how your brain works.”

He pouts, and it’s so absurdly dramatic that you almost laugh. Almost. “You’re no fun, yn.”

“Good. I don’t want to be fun.”

Jungkook sits up suddenly, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Fine. Then let’s make a bet.”

“A bet?” you repeat, suspicious.

“Yeah.” His grin turns wicked. “If we’re still stuck in here after another hour, you have to go on a real date with me.”

Your jaw drops. “What?”

“You heard me.” He shrugs, like this is the most normal thing in the world. “Take it or leave it, babe.”

You sit up, crossing your arms. “And what happens if we get out of here before the hour’s up?”

Jungkook’s grin doesn’t falter. “Then I’ll stop making inappropriate jokes for a week.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “You’re lying.”

“Scout’s honor,” he says, holding up three fingers.

You stare at him for a long moment, weighing your options. Then, finally, you sigh. “Fine. But you’re going to regret this when we’re out of here in twenty minutes.”

Jungkook just smirks, his confidence radiating off him in waves. “We’ll see, babe.”

And as much as you hate to admit it, you kind of hope you lose.

You stare at him, his stupid is grin practically glowing in the dim light of the room. He’s lying on his side now, looking way too comfortable, while you’re still sitting upright like you’re waiting for a rescue team.

“You seem a little tense,” he says, his voice dropping into that low, teasing tone that always makes your eye twitch.

“I wonder why,” you deadpan, gesturing to the locked door. “Maybe it’s because I’m stuck in here with a man-child who thinks ‘truth or dare’ is an appropriate solution to boredom.”

Jungkook props his head up on one hand, his biceps flexing in a way that feels intentional. “I’m just saying, if we’re stuck here, we might as well make it fun. And let’s face it, yn, no one else makes you laugh like I do.”

You snort, leaning back against the headboard. “You don’t make me laugh. You make me want to scream.”

“Same thing,” he says with a wink.

You roll your eyes, but you can’t fight the small smile tugging at the corner of your lips. You hate that he’s right.

As much as you want to throttle him half the time, the other half? You’re too busy laughing at his ridiculousness to care.

“Okay,” you say suddenly, sitting up straighter. “Let’s play your stupid game.”

Jungkook perks up immediately, his eyes lighting up like a kid on Christmas morning. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth,” you say, crossing your arms.

He doesn’t even hesitate. “Do you think I’m hot?”

You blink at him, stunned by his audacity, before letting out a disbelieving laugh. “You’re unbelievable.”

“It’s a valid question,” he says, his smirk growing. “Come on, yn. Be honest.”

You narrow your eyes at him, your cheeks heating against your will. “Fine. You’re… decent-looking.”

He’s very hot, but he doesn’t need to know that.

“Decent-looking?” He clutches his chest like you’ve just stabbed him. “You’re breaking my heart here.”

“Good,” you say, fighting back a grin.

“Your turn,” he says, recovering quickly. “Truth or dare?”

You pause, considering your options. “Dare.”

His smirk turns dangerous, and you immediately regret your decision. “I dare you to sit on my lap.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Come on, it’s just a dare,” he says, his tone deceptively innocent. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

“I murder you in cold blood, for starters.”

Jungkook laughs, leaning back against the pillows like he’s got all the time in the world. “You’re no fun.”

“You keep saying that like it’s a bad thing.”

He grins, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “It is when you’re this cute.”

You throw a pillow at his face, and he catches it effortlessly, laughing as he tosses it back at you.

Another twenty minutes pass, and you’re lying side by side now, both of you staring at the ceiling.

“You know,” Jungkook says, his voice softer now, “this isn’t so bad.”

You turn your head to look at him, your brows furrowing. “Being locked in a room?”

“Being stuck with you,” he says, and for once, there’s no teasing in his voice.

Your stomach does a weird little flip, and you quickly look away, your cheeks heating. “You’re such a sap.”

You Kind of like it, but…

“Only for you, babe.”

You groan, shoving him with your shoulder. “Stop calling me babe.”

“Why?” he asks, rolling onto his side to face you. “Does it make your heart race?”

“No,” you lie, glaring at him.

Jungkook smirks, leaning in closer. “Liar.”

“Idiot.”

“Hot,” he counters, his grin widening.

You don’t dignify that with a response.

Eventually, the tension breaks when the doorknob jiggles, and a muffled voice calls from the other side.

“Are you guys okay in there?”

You spring off the bed like it’s on fire. “Yes! Get us out!”

Jungkook stays lying down, his arms tucked behind his head, looking as relaxed as ever. “Take your time!” he calls out.

You glare at him, your heart pounding for reasons you’d rather not analyze. “Get up, Jeon.”

“Nah, I’m good here.”

“Get. Up.”

He sighs, sitting up with an exaggerated groan. “Fine. But only because you’re cute when you’re bossy.”

You grab the nearest pillow and whack him one last time, just for good measure.

[astralnymphh]

i wanna ride ellie’s little nose :((

hearing her soft whimpers as I fuck her nose up

note: alright, since this little post i made sparked up some conversation, i will tap some actual content out of it! mdni. college au. loser!ellie.

𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐦𝐬: 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐧𝐨𝐬𝐞

ellie isn't so practiced to being in this position; her heart is fucking pounding. not a lithe beat, or a pitter-pattering across the flesh—you can feel it through your thighs curled around her arms. you can see it in her blown eyes, trembling, and thickened with those pupils staring up at you. the indents of her fingertips sharpening into your legs, tattooed wrist constricted—restless. she hates this little interlude you subject her to. you're fondling her fragile trigger when you're sat a mere inch above her pretty lips, wet and glistening; who could blame her for getting so riled up?

impatience drags her fingers over your ass. it gets gripped gently. “thought you weren't being serious,” she states through a laugh—a breathless one. “but, i should know better, right?” her laughs hit that damned sweet spot in you that gets you going.

you tug a couple more out with a tip-tap on that precious nose. “mhm.” and then, those fingers end their frolic in her hair, forming a firm grip. it tugs a different sound out of her. a captured whimper. she is starving, and cannot mouth an actual word to soothe or substantiate it. ellie—two steps ahead of her motions—is already thinking about her lips on your cunt.

you position your slit on her available tongue, and she moans like she met heaven. a long, loose-lipped moan of satisfaction. something of a curving, “mmhhh..” and a brow-pull to go along with it; your scent, taste, and pushing of her face into your grinding hips hit all the right wires. now, she cannot let go. you shift your hip one route, and she follows with hungered licks. groping her breasts, you encourage that wanton behaviour.

“good fuckin girl, el.”

she gives your ass a delicate slap in admission. subconscious admission.

all that movement creates a cathedral of pornographics sounds. ellie, whoring her face out for you, lets nothing go to waste past her chin. she bobs her head, attempting to steal more laps of you, but ends up with the head of her nose prodding your clit each time. it sends a coiling through your pelvis, agreements up your throat, “fuck—such a pretty little nose your parents gave you..” and gives you the idea to continue. “you like it when i fuck it, huh?” fucking the tip of it, until it folds up and pre-cum begins to line it. inside, outside. it's perfect position is a practical beg for you to spread your legs and sit on it. ride it like she doesn't know what she's doing (which—contrary to what bigots in her college circulate online—she knows how to fuckin' eat pussy; don't get her wrong.) she knows now—she won't be able to rid it from her mind for weeks; the poor girl has to dangle from memories considering how little she sees you. what, with astrophysics and all? it's pitiful enough watching her touch herself to it—touch herself to the feeling of eating you out.

you chew your resting lip and almost draw blood noticing: the bulge of a free hand in her jeans, gentle touching below the seam. then, on it comes. the repeated whining—moaning like she's the one getting fucked. all it takes is for you to tilt her head, tug her eyes out from under you—and it blows out. the sight of her red, fucked-out, rubbed-against and wet face makes you cum.

how could it not?

“that was.. actually pretty hot,” ellie would blurt, after it had happened. after she had tugged herself enough to cum. regardless, she still had a couple laughs left in her system, and urged against her ribs to get them out while the patron of her affection was still in her presence—still on her doorstep. she would rather you be more than just a hookup. “i'm so fuckin' stupid about you, it's a little embarassing.” the door frame quietly settled with her leaning on it. “uh, you free tomorrow?”

[sooniebby]

ఌ 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐍𝐀𝐄

w.c › 6k

warnings › face claims. Part 3. Bottom male reader. Brief use of the word “pussy”

plot › you start to date Mingi, learning how much he has wanted you for years while reevaluating your relationship with Yohan

kinks › feminization, friction play, size differences, Noona kink, calls reader “girl”, praise kink

Words to know › maknae (막내) — youngest. Hyung (형) — a term a younger male will call an older male. Jagiya/Jagi (자기야) — “sweetie/baby.” Noona (누나) — a term a younger male will call an older female.

���ྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

Four years ago

“I heard you.”

Yohan glanced over at you, staring at your back. It was the day of the group’s first performance. The other members were to the other side of the dressing room, doing vocal exercises. You were fixing your tie. Everyone was dressed in school uniforms.

“Heard what?” Yohan asked, tilting his head. He never talked to you unless necessary. While every other member seemed to just fall at your feet—he wanted nothing to do with you.

It took a minute before you turned and looked at him. His eyes widen at the sight. You were on the verge of tears but somehow you were able to glare at him.

You walked over to him, “I heard you say that I must’ve slept with the CEO to get my position in the group.” Your voice was quiet. “I heard you say that Minnie probably hates me because I ‘replaced’ him.”

“Minnie?” Yohan whispered, raising an eyebrow.

“Let me tell you something, Park Yohan.” You leaned over, your breath brushing against his ear. “You don’t have to like me but I won’t take disrespect and I won’t let you tear this group down because you’re upset I’m a better leader than you.

“Besides, a real leader wouldn’t let his feelings get in the way of the group’s performance.” With that, you pulled away, not even sparing him another glance. You moved to where Gaeul was standing and motioned for her to help you fix your tie.

Yohan just stood there, staring at you in shock.

What the fuck?

He couldn’t even think about anything else—mainly on just what else could you have possibly heard.

But he didn’t get to think for long when it was Miracle’s time to perform. The group got on stage and Yohan felt weirdly uncomfortable. Almost all of the members looked at you for guidance—they didn’t even spare him a glance.

As each member got into position, Yohan glanced over at you. Your eyes were soft and resembled a doe. He took note that you didn’t even pay any attention to the people in the crowd but the members, giving each of them a wide smile.

You glanced at him and immediately your softness was gone. You simply nodded at him and fixed your head mic, making sure it was straight.

The metronome in the earpiece ticked before the song burst into the quiet scene. Everything was going well for the most part. While the crowd wasn’t too excited as it was the debut stage—a few people were getting interested.

Every members mic was on but you were certainly the highlight, managing to sing non stop, even singing your ad-libs.

As Yohan moved about stage, he heard the sound of fabric tearing. He didn’t even need to touch his legs to know his pants had ripped. Fucking cheap stakes! The pants were already tight on him, of course they ripped.

He continued dancing while subtly checking where the damage was done. His inner thigh… which was fine until he could tell it spread to the area of his crotch.

For fuck sakes. Yohan debated running off stage so he didn’t flash the audience as he got in a still position during your final chorus. As he mentally cursed himself while thinking of ways to subtly run back stage, you began tugging off your blazer.

You did it subtly enough that it looked as if it was apart of the performance. You didn’t even skip a second as you wrapped your blazer around Yohan’s waist, covering the growing split.

Yohan felt himself stiffen as you rest your head on his shoulder, finishing your line before Kihyun took over for the high note. This part of the song had all of the members frozen beside Kihyun.

Yohan tried to calm himself down as you stayed pressed against him, sacrificing your original position of standing beside him. He didn’t even know how you noticed his pants ripped. Everyone was so focused on completing the performance without a problem.

The rest of the song went fine, ending with each member’s picked out ending fairy. Yohan couldn’t even care too much, way too happy about not flashing anyone. He’d have to complain to the stylist today.

As the crowd clapped, the members released their pose and began to bow, thanking the audience. Yohan was about to say something when the sound of a whimper caught his attention.

He looked to his right to see you bawling…?

You took off your microphone as you covered your mouth to muffle your cries. Hyojin was almost immediately by your side, rubbing your back in comforting circles.

It didn’t take long for Doha to join, patting your head. Kihyun took a moment before coming over. Mingi looked nervous as he covered your body from the crowd’s face, almost like a way of giving you modesty.

Yohan just stared….

His group were comforting you as if they knew you for years now.

What the fuck?

After the group helped you walk off stage and everyone got changed into their regular clothing, Yohan was ready to just go home. He just hated that would still have to see you.

Everyone lived in a shared apartment, two boys in one room each. They had only moved in a few days ago and he was unlucky enough to room with you.

When they reached the apartments, Yohan was confused to see Kihyun taking some boxes away from his room. He walked in to see you on your side of the room, rubbing at your face. You glanced up when you heard him and frowned.

“Park Yohan-Ssi.” You said, he didn’t know how to feel with how respectful you were speaking to him—as if he was a coworker. “I’m switching rooms with Dodo—Doha. It… makes sense.”

“Makes sense?” Yohan asked, tilting his head. “What do you mean?”

You almost looked nervous before shaking your head. “A..anyway, I wanted to apologize… it was rude of me to say such things to you today right before a performance. I made you perform terribly.”

Yohan could only stare at you.

This…

How can someone be this….

He didn’t understand.

“I’ll go now…” you whispered, leaving the room quickly. Yohan didn’t even flinch.

Even if you had just apologized…

You weren’t wrong.

He was fucking up the group’s dynamic.

And it was all because he fucking hated you.

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

After the 24 hrs performance, you had gained a wider audience than before. Gaeul had mentioned that there was a growth in female fans for you and she was certainly right. It was nice to see some fans that weren’t just thirsting over you but this somehow pushed you into more of the NSFW sphere of Miras.

You had went back to visit Hanniesmira only to see that she had started talking about you more. She had recently reposted another post of you.

The most repost was of a short clip of you at the amusement park. You were showing off the makeup the lady had done.

→ I wasn’t familiar with your game, bottom (Name) enthusiasts…

This account was of what looked to be a Kihyun biased Mira. You didn’t know to feel about there being ‘bottom enthusiasts’ but it was nice to see people appreciating your looks. Lots of comments even just innocently saying that you look great feminine.

You scrolled through some other posts when you came across a video from your debut. It was of the group at a variety show and you were standing together as the host was talking about something.

→ ??? I’ve never seen (Name) act like this before??

You didn’t understand what the Mira could’ve meant when you clicked on the video. It started off small as nothing out of the ordinary happened, just you fixing your position to stand straight. But then the clip replayed, with it zoomed in to your shoulder as you stood beside Yohan. The footage was slowed to show how when Yohan brushed up against you, you practically froze and immediately moved away.

@hanniesmira

↳ you didn’t know? Are you a new Mira?

@dohasflatass

↳ man, it was a whole thing! Yhn and (Name) didn’t interact with each other at all for the first six months

@hanniesmira

↳ six months? Naaaah, they didn’t get close until the group’s second year ㅋㅋㅋ

@hyoojinie

↳ dark times… now Yhn can’t leave (Name) alone ㅎㅎ I wonder why they hated each other so much

Before you could read anymore, Mingi came into your room. You shut off your phone and placed it down. You’d knew that it wasn’t exactly a secret for the fan base that you and Yohan weren’t chummy until the group’s second year.

You had honestly believed you’d never get close to him at all. But after your family emergency back then—Yohan practically changed.

Deep down, you constantly wondered if he would’ve still hated you if you didn’t go through that whole accident. You were deep in thought as you stood up and got into the motion to get ready for a shower.

Mingi being in the room didn’t even register until he suddenly spoke.

“Why can’t I tell anyone?”

You frowned, glancing over at Mingi who was now lying down on your bed. He was watching you get undressed. Even though you always tell him to look away—he doesn’t exactly listen to you anymore.

It had literally only been two days and Mingi acts as if he is your husband.

“It’s not smart. Hannie obviously can’t hear about it right now and it’s not fair to tell everyone but him.” You said, tugging off your boxers. “Just wait until after our album promotion… we’ll get a six month break so hopefully that’ll be a great time for Hannie to handle the news—if he really does like me.”

Mingi sighed. “You’re so naive, Hyung… you’d think you’re the youngest.”

You glared at him. “Just because I’m your boyfriend doesn’t mean you can speak so lax with me.”

“Why not?” Mingi smirked, his eyes glancing down at your bare lower half as you tugged off your shirt. “You’re lucky I haven’t showed you just how little honorifics mean to me. I’d like it if you’d call me Hyung in bed.”

“Mingi!” You whispered, eyes widen as you stared at him in shock. He was kinkier in ways you didn’t think was possible. But then again, you were a virgin… maybe this wasn’t that strange to be average adult.

“Can I take a shower with you?”

“Absolutely not.” You stormed off to the bathroom.

After showering, you came back to see Mingi was still on your bed. He turned his phone off immediately and gave you a grin. You only rolled your eyes, pulling out some pajamas.

You draped the towel on your shoulders as you pulled up your boxers. “Ah, I wanted to tell you something.”

“What?”

“I found a fan account of mines… Itsokokok. It’s so nice to see that I do have a fan account.” You said, glancing over at Mingi. He looked weirdly happy, a wide grin on his lips.

“Really? Of course you’d have a fan account.”

You smiled. “I guess. But, I think I know who runs the account.”

Mingi immediately sat up. “Wha—Ho—Who??”

You turned to fully face him, “Well I always knew the owner was a guy but it was weird how he talks about me. It’s like he knows me so well… but he hardly even responds to comments.” You smiled, walking over to Mingi.

He stared up at you, his eyes wide. You didn’t understand why he looked a bit nervous as you leaned down and kissed his nose.

“Who do you… think it is?” He asked.

“Kim Pilseung.”

Mingi blinked before raising an eyebrow, “who?”

“Kim Pilseung! The guy I signed the album for, I even gave him my number—”

“—excuse me?” Mingi stood up at that confession but you carried on, slipping on your shirt.

“But he hasn’t called me yet. Maybe he’s just shy.” You slipped on your shirt. “But it makes sense! He’s been around for a while—he’d know where to find pre debut videos of my past performances.”

“I’m still confused on why you gave a stranger your phone number.”

“I have two phones.” You said. “A work phone and a personal phone. I just gave him my work phone number.”

Mingi frowned. “What phone number do I have?”

“Work phone. Only my relatives have my personal phone number, I hardly use it because I don’t want a sasaeng to get the number.” You walked over to your night stand and opened the drawer, pulling out a phone that looked considerably older. “My personal! I’ve had it since I was in high school.”

You tossed it back inside, “it’s not like I use it often. It’s quite old, I need to buy a new one.”

Mingi only shook his head. “Anyway, I just want to know who the fuck Kim Pilseung even is. What the hell was he talking about when he mentioned a performance you did with someone else.”

“Don’t speak to me like that.” You said, sending him a swift glare. Mingi quickly straightened his posture as he apologized. “Good. Ah but Seungie was talking about the duo I was apart of. It was me and an old classmate of mines.”

“Seungie?” Mingi asked. “Wait, you were in a duo with a classmate?”

“Yea, cute right?” You giggled. “Mhm. My classmate and I performed together until he debuted in his company. We couldn’t perform together anymore after that. I almost gave up when that happened.”

You grabbed your (work) phone and pulled up your mother’s Instagram. It took a minute as you scrolled through the numerous photos she posted about you until you got to the first ever video she took.

It was another angle of the A.D.T.O.Y. Performance you did back in high school. This angle showed that you weren’t alone on stage but there was another boy beside you.

The caption was a bit crazy, but your mother was just an eccentric woman.

→ my baby performing!!! The voice of an angel, got it from me of course ㅋㅋㅋㅋ edit: Stop messaging me that song is inappropriate, he’s fully clothed!!! And yes, I know His friend is there too… I guess he sounds good too

“His name is Hong Garam.”

“He shares the same last name as you?”

You giggled, “yeah! That’s how we first started talking. Cute right?”

“We find different things cute.” Mingi rolled his eyes. “I’ve never heard of him, I guess he didn’t make it in the business.”

“You’re so childish. He has a stage name. He even—”

“Okay, okay, I care more about this Kim Pilseung. You think he’s the owner of your fan account, why do you care?”

“I want to thank him… is that weird?”

“No… I guess not, but honestly—you don’t need to.”

You frowned, “why not?”

Mingi sighed as he rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I don’t want to talk about another man right now, I was planning on having fun tonight.”

“Fun?”

“Never mind. I wanna sleep, lay down.” He didn’t even wait for you to respond as he pulled you to lay down on the bed. You didn’t even fight it, allowing him to manhandle you into his arms as he cuddled you.

“Minnie… I need to turn off the lights.”

“No.”

As he easily fell asleep, you couldn’t help but think back to the day everything changed between you and Yohan.

Two years ago

You were standing by the bridge, glancing up the moon. It was cool, the April weather finally starting warm up as May was approaching. You had to miss the group’s trip to the amusement park due to a family emergency and you were trying hard to not think about it.

It was silly. It was just an amusement park anyway…

Your gaze was on the water beneath the bride as you stood up on your tippy toes to get a better look.

It was almost calming when you were suddenly tackled to the ground. A loud scream left your throat as you immediately tried to fight against your assailant when you came face to face with… Yohan?

You stared up at him with wide eyes before a frown pulled on your lips. “Yohan-Ssi, what are—?”

“—are you crazy?!”

You blinked. “Crazy?”

Yohan glared down at you as he gripped your wrists. “Were you seriously about to jump? I know everything seems terrible right now but you can’t.. you can’t just leave the others… they’d be crushed.”

“But I wasn’t—”

“—even I’d… I don’t know what I’d do if you were gone.” His voice had gone soft, his grip loosening. “They can’t.. no, we can’t go on without you. I know I’m such a dick and nothing I say can change that but please… let me make it up to you, no matter how many years it takes. Don’t leave us, Hong (Name)… we can be your new family—especially after losing—”

“—Park Yohan, my family didn’t die.” You said, interrupting him.

“Huh?” Yohan opened his eyes, they were surprisingly wet with tears. “But the nurse said they died at the scene…?”

“The car accident wasn’t anything serious.” You shook your head. “I had to come for my mom so they can patch a cut she has on her forehead. Only the car got damaged.” You frowned. “The nurse must’ve gotten me mixed up with someone else.”

“So… your mom and brother didn’t die in a car crush?”

“No. I don’t even have a brother.” You stared at him up, tilting your head. “Besides… there’s a net attached to the bridge, it’d catch me if I really did want to jump.”

Yohan simply blinked. “So… so I…”

“You cared enough to run after me?” You whispered, a slight grin on your lips. “Y’know, this wouldn’t have happened if you visited when the other members came.”

“Oh.”

“Oh.” You laughed. “So, is that it? Will you start ignoring me now?”

Yohan got off of you, staring down at you. He glanced over the bridge—possibly checking to see if you weren’t lying before shaking his head.

“No. I guess I just needed a push to be honest. I meant every word.”

It was your turn to stare at him in shock. Your lips parted as you tried to speak but only a gasp left you.

It was from that moment, that Park Yohan had realized how bad he—no, the group—needed you.

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

Kim Pilseung still hadn’t called you—you were beginning to think maybe he didn’t want to. But then again, he was shy when speaking to you. Perhaps he was just nervous.

You were in the dance studio with the other members after a long day of practicing. Mingi and Yohan looked to be acting normal so you were semi happy. Though there would be instances of Mingi would purposely touch your waist in ways he’d never done before.

Luckily Yohan didn’t seem to be taking the bait, yet…

“You keep staring at your phone,” Kihyun suddenly said, wiping at the sweat on his neck. “Waiting for someone? Maybe that guy you visited all the time?”

Mingi immediately sat up from the floor, staring straight at you. “What guy? When was this?”

“When Hyung, Hyojin and I shared an apartment together,” Kihyun said, unknowing to the inner turmoil he was sending Mingi into. “Hyung would leave at 10:00 pm sharp and come back with this guy. The guy was always overly dressed—hat and face mask. He wouldn’t even speak, just dropped off a sleepy Hyung before leaving like the flash.”

Hyojin hummed. “I thought he was drugging Hyung but it seems Hyung just has a natural clock.”

You frowned, “that’s a bit embarrassing.” By natural clock, it simply meant your body automatically shut down by midnight. No matter how hard you tried—you would practically drop like a rock into slumber. You only managed to stay up to 12:30 am, once. Back in middle school no less.

“Who was he anyway? You stopped meeting with him right before we moved into double apartments?” Kihyun asked.

“Ah. Hong Garam.” Only Mingi seemed bothered by this while the other members only stared at you in confusion.

“Who the fuck is that?” Doha asked.

“Hyung’s old classmate,” Mingi answered, his face tense as his jaw tightened. Shit, you’d have explaining to do later.

“He’s also Hong Hwan.”

That seemed to cause Hyojin to sit up. “Hong Hwan?!”

Even Kihyun seemed shocked. “Hong Hwan?! I’ve met Hong Hwan and I didn’t even know!” He cursed to himself, shaking his head.

Mingi groaned, “who is that?!”

“Hong Hwan,” Doha answered. “A popular actor. Well he used to be an idol but he’s basically more of an actor nowadays. His group disbanded but he has solo songs.”

“Do you guys still talk?” Mingi asked. “You haven’t been leaving the dorm.”

You nodded. “He’s busy with promotions for his latest drama. I can let you guys meet him when he’s free.”

“I’d love that, Hyung!” Kihyun immediately said, a grin on his lips.

The other members chimed in agreement while Mingi only huffed, shaking his head. You sighed. After a few minutes of brief conversation, Gaeul walked into the studio with a grin on her face.

“Hey, Hey~! So tomorrow you guys will record content but it’ll be different from normal!” She said, giggling in excitement. “It’ll be a roleplay—like a family type thing. There’ll be two parents, three kids and the other is one of the character’s boyfriend.”

“Like a drama?” Doha asked.

“Yes yes. The whole plot is that the parents and younger brothers don’t approve of their eldest daughter’s boyfriend because he looks like a gang member.”

“Daughter? So one of us has to play a girl?” You asked.

“Technically two girls, as there’s a mom. Anyway, we allowed Miras to pick all of your roles! We did a poll on Twitter. So first, the boyfriend will be played by Mingi!”

Mingi perked up at that, “really?”

“Yeah, yeah. Ah, the younger brothers will be played by Yohan and Doha. You can pretend to be any age you want.” She scrolled on her phone as she hummed slightly. “And now for the daughter, Hyojin will be the daughter—is that okay, Hyojin-Ah?”

Hyojin hummed. “I’m fine with it.”

“Great. That leaves (Name) and Kihyun.”

You kinda mentally prepared to be the dad—it was obvious. Miras constantly called you Miracle’s dad! But you never thought they’d vote Kihyun as the mom—he wasn’t the type. Honestly you were shocked Doha wasn’t the boyfriend as his whole assigned persona was a bad boy.

Maybe Miras wanted a little change as well.

“Kihyun was voted as the dad and (Name) as the mom! The van will pick you guys up at noon tomorrow, be ready! I’ll see you guys later.” With that, she left.

You blinked. That was a surprise.

But a welcomed one at that.

The group all went home after that. You expected Mingi to immediately start questioning you about Hwan but he seemed to have forgotten all about it. He only sprawled out on the couch and began watching a random Thai drama. You gave him a quick kiss good night before leaving to your bedroom.

You pulled out your phone and began checking Twitter again, wanting to see the polls. It wasn’t anything too crazy—no one seemed mad at the results. In fact a lot of Miras were excited to see Mingi as a ‘bad boy.’

A few giddy to see Hyojin as a girl.

As you scrolled you came across an older video—it looked to be from the group’s second year. The groups first ever festival performance. You remembered it was for a college festival.

The video looked to be off the ending. Each member was walking to their ending position. The song playing was ‘Sweet Dreams’ so each member got down to the ground and laid their head on the other’s shoulder, pretending to fall asleep.

After the final verse, each member began to ‘wake up’ as they waved at the fans. But when it reached Kihyun, second to last, he didn’t get to get up because your head was still resting on his shoulder. He reached over to tap your shoulder only to find out you were fast asleep.

He immediately began laughing and comfortingly patted your head as the other members turned around to see what was wrong.

You vaguely remembered why you had fallen asleep—it was midnight by the time the performance was over. It was a miracle you even managed to finish the performance when you remembered being sleepy the entire time.

A dip in your bed caught your attention as Mingi appeared beside you. He looked tired as he laid down, patting the spot beside him. You only rolled your eyes but laid down, immediately cuddling up in his arms.

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

“I think I make a pretty girl.”

You glanced over to see Hyojin already fully dressed in his girl costume. Because his hair was already a bit long, the hair stylist only added extensions to make them reach his shoulders. His outfit wasn’t too feminine by all means. A pink t-shirt and shorts.

He had on light makeup—one a teen girl would normally wear. You gave him grin.

“Cute~ My daughter is cute.” You teased, giggling as Hyojin rolled his eyes. The others were already done for the most part, waiting out in the living room. Filming was taking place in a random house the company rented out.

You were almost finished—the hairstylist simply fixing your wig. Dressed in a more feminine outfit—you wore a fluffy white sweater with a black pants that disguised itself as a flowing skirt.

The wig the hairstylist was putting on you was black that reached your back. It looked cheap but with the curls the stylist put it made it have more volume. Your makeup was minimal and hardly noticeable.

Hyojin hummed, joining you by the makeup stand. “You look like you could be someone’s mom.” He said, laughing when you glared at him through the mirror.

The both of you join the others where a staff member is clipping their mics to their clothing. Yohan was dressed in a soccer uniform while Doha still had on a school uniform with fake glasses.

Kihyun was dressed exactly like a dad. Rectangular glasses sat on the bridge of his nose while his hair was swiped back with gel. He’s dressed in a polo shirt and black slacks.

But they didn’t matter too much to you—your members always looked good. No, who caught your eye was, of course, Choi Mingi.

His blonde hair was shaggy and purposefully messy, a bit of dark eyeliner that sharpened his fox like eyes. He wore a black leather jacket over a white t-shirt and black ripped jeans. He was fixing his clip on mic when he gazed over at you.

You watched as his eyes slowly widen with recognition as he took you in. You felt your cheeks burn as you wanted to look away but kept staring back at him. Did he think you looked good? Hopefully you looked good.

Filming started shortly after Gaeul reminded every one of the plot—you were all free to improvise basically everything. You sat down on the couch near Kihyun, leaning against his shoulder. His arm slid underneath your back as his hand let itself rest at the slight curve of your waist.

Even if you didn’t view Kihyun romantically, you couldn’t help but blush a little.

The little roleplay went fine for the most part, you acted like the ‘mediating mother’ who didn’t necessarily hate the boyfriend while the father and brothers hated him.

It was fun for the most part. Though throughout the roleplay, you could notice a strange tension rising between Yohan and Mingi. You began to watch them nervously as they faked argued. It was started to feel a bit too real with the words they were using.

“And how can you even be good for her—?” Yohan started.

“—Hey, Hey, you act like I’m ten!” Hyojin interrupted.

“Yeah, you’re so controlling,” Mingi chuckled. “What makes you the one who gets to choose for her?”

“Because—!”

“—this so annoying, she’s not worth this hassle. what if I take your mom instead will you still be this angry? She’s hotter anyway.”

Everyone blinked as they stared at Mingi. It took a second before Kihyun realized he should act as he immediately stood up and began spouting some nonsense while you could only stare. You felt hot as you couldn’t even come up with a line but only bury your face in your sweater.

You’d kill him later.

Shooting ended not even twenty minutes later. None of the staff seemed to be mentioning the whole ‘she’s hotter’ sentence. You wondered if they would just edit that out as you handed over the mic to a staff member. Each member looked ready to go home and eat—you included.

You need to take your wig off however so you began walking to the hairstylist when a hand grabbed your sweater and tugged you away. You didn’t even get a chance to scream before you were slammed into a storage closet.

It didn’t take a genius to know who had dragged you here.

“Mingi—can you be a bit gentler next time?” You whispered, sighing softly.

“Sorry, sorry.” Mingi gave you a cheeky grin before slowly guiding you rest your back against the wall. “But you look too good right now… I want to kiss you.”

You blushed slightly. “You look good too.” You shyly whispered, glancing up at him. Your hands slowly reached up and rest on his shoulders, gripping at his jacket before pulling him further down. Mingi didn’t need to be told twice as he eagerly kissed you, his hands grasping your waist.

The kiss was intense, Mingi kissing you like he wanted to eat you. His fingers dug into the waistband of your pants before managing to tug them down. They pooled around your feet as your eyes widen in shock. You pulled away from the kiss and stared up at him in shock.

“In.. in here?!” You whisper-yelled.

Mingi hummed, undeterred as he began pressing light kisses on your neck. “Just this once. I won’t ask for something like this again. Please, Noona?”

Your body shivered at the title, a strangled gasp leaving your throat as he teased the tip of your cock. Wait when did he pull down your underwear? Any part of you that didn’t want to do this was pushed down at the immediate pleasure of him teasing your cock.

No way you can wait until you get home now.

“Okay… just this once.” You whispered.

Mingi immediately began unbuckling his jeans with speed you thought was impossible. He still kissed and nipped at your neck—still careful to not leave any marks. You bit your bottom lip to muffle any moans as he gripped your thighs, lifting you up.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, nervous for how this would work. Wasn’t he supposed to prep you? But he was quite big, how long was he supposed to prep you for?

As you tried to calm yourself down, you felt his cock rub against yours. He had pulled up your sweater to show off your stomach. You shuddered and glanced down to see him line his cock right on top of yours.

“What’s this..?” You whispered, gasping as he began to slowly rub against you. “I thought you… were gonna put it in.”

“In here?” He asked, an incredulous expression on his face. “No way, not for your first time. We can get off like this. Just let me lead, Noona.” You blushed again as you meekly nodded.

His hands slid up to your waist as he pressed his body fully against yours. Your cock was now firmly against his—unable to slip away. Mingi pressed a soft kiss on your collarbone before pulling away just a bit to see your face.

“I’ll make it quick… so they don’t get suspicious.” He said, though you could tell that he would’ve dragged this out if there wasn’t the threat of getting caught. “Don’t make a sound, I don’t want anyone hearing you.”

It was slow at first. His hips bucked forward as your toes curled, his thicker cock dwarfed yours as they rubbed together. It burned a bit as there was no lube to make the friction smoother. Mingi seemed to notice this as he spit into his hand and rubbed it against both cocks. You tried not to be grossed out.

Sex was messy anyway.

He started out slow before speeding up. You almost wished he actually fucked you. This must’ve been how he usually fucks anyway. The tight grip on your waist as he slammed forward, your body shaking from the force.

The pre-cum leaking from your cock began to coat both cocks, allowing for an easier friction. Your voice was beginning to get louder as you buried your face into his neck, clawing at the jacket for some type of purchase.

“I bet you’re tight… so tight, Noona. Next time, I wanna fuck your pussy, can I? Can I, Noona?” He whispered, into your ear, chuckling when you only answered with a high pitched moan. “Do you like that? Calling your hole a pussy?”

His hips suddenly stilled as you cried in disappointment. “C’mon, Noona. I’m doing all the work… you can answer my question. Do you like it?”

You whined before nodding your head.

“Ah, ah, use your words. You’re an adult.”

“So mean…”

“What was that, Noona? You want me to stop?”

“No, no! I…” you whined, your cock aching for release. “I like it.. please I wanna cum.”

“See~” he cooed, “that wasn’t too hard. You’re such a good girl, Noona.”

His nails dig into your skin as he slammed his hips up, your cocks rubbing together once more. Your moans immediately leave you as you feel yourself reach your peak. You cum not soon after, Mingi’s name leaving your lips in a pathetic whimper.

Mingi follows right after, biting down on your bare shoulder. Luckily the cum didn’t reach the sweater. It coated both of your stomachs as he loosened his grip on you. You both breathed heavily as he glanced over at you.

“You really are hotter.” He said, a slight smirk on his lips.

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

After that whole storage closet incident, you and Mingi have finally felt a bit more comfortable sex wise. In short, you guys were humping each other practically every night. Which led tonight: you were sitting on his lap, wearing only your boxers with a t-shirt.

You had been watching him gaming when he suddenly asked for a reward for beating his high score. You refused at first since you had wanted to go to bed an hour ago but he had begged you to watch him play.

It only took one puppy dog pout before you conceded and allowed him to choose a reward.

Of course the reward was you grinding on top of him. Your ass was directly over his dick. You could tell he wasn’t wearing any boxers underneath his sweatpants. It began to harden beneath your ass as you slowly grind on top of him.

“You’re so sexy, Hyung. I’m not sure if I can take this anymore,” Mingi groaned, reaching over to grasp your waist. You shivered.

“You.. don’t have to… I’m ready.”

Mingi blinked. “Really..? I can..?”

Your hips stopped as you blushed slightly, nodding your head. “Yeah… humping each other is fun but I wanna feel you.. i..inside me.” You thought you’d die of embarrassment.

But that almost seemed to send Mingi over the edge as he immediately flipped your positions to where you were laying on the couch. You stared up at him shock as he pulled down your boxers, your cock flopping free.

You couldn’t help but feel excited at how eager he was. You shyly opened your legs wider so Mingi could have easy access. Just as he was about to kiss your stomach, your phone began ringing.

You immediately shot up, ignoring Mingi’s whines as you reached for your phone. People hardly called you so you always immediately checked. It took a second for the name to fully register but when it did, a grin pulled on your lips.

홍가람

Hong Garam.

Three years ago

Mingi was a bit camera shy when it came to variety shows. He hardly looked into the camera as he just let the other members talk until he was called upon. Because of that, his gaze was focused on the members—mainly you, really.

So he noticed how you practically froze up when Yohan accidentally brushed against you. He’d never seen you react like that before. If he wasn’t on camera he would’ve said something but he decided to do something less disruptive.

Because everyone was standing in a huddle than a line, it was easy for him to slip between Kihyun and Doha to get to you. He stopped though—wanting to make it seem like he was just shifting around. After a minute or so, he moved again, gently pushing you further to the right so he could fit between you and Yohan.

Yohan didn’t seem to notice at all while you glanced over at Mingi, a confused look on your face. But Mingi didn’t look at you, knowing that if he did he would’ve fold immediately. He just stared at the host—pretending he was paying attention the entire time.

If he did glance over at you, he would’ve noticed the slight blush on your cheeks as you smiled to yourself.

The whole idea for a family drama thing was definitely from SKZ lmao. Leading heavily into feminization but Mingi has multiple kinks, just wait and see

Tag list: @tehyunnie @euthymiko @iwishtobeacrow @onementally-unstabel-kid @jaxyy219 @hoshimochicchi @honey-valentin3 @bensontrechic @ofclyde @star-3214 @love-kha1 @chill-guy-but-cooler @tomoeroi @the-ultimate-librarian @mooncarvers-world @mello-life25 @yuzuukix @smellwell @remdayz @cherry-blossoms-187 @kiiyoooo @secretivemessenger @me-when-life @bangbangdevotee @bangchansdirty-slut @chaevvonders @jjsmeowthie @diamondnightsky23 @1-800-darktea @anchoredphoenix

[st7rnioioss]

omgggg can you please do bestfriend chris guiding inexperienced reader on how to ride for the first time

BSF!CHRIS GUIDING INEXPERIENCED!READER HOW TO RIDE

˚𝜗𝜚 warnings... smut, p in v, unprotected sex (nuh uh!!), kissing, mentions of hickeys, lowkey hate this💔

“shh- hey. it’s okay, you’re doing so, so good..” chris mumbled, his hands stuck on your hips while his thumbs traced mindless circles over your soft skin, admiring your pretty form on top of him.

your face was contorted with pleasure, eyebrows knit together and eyes pinched shut while trying to adjust to his size. you were sucking him in, his tip already kissing your cervix as you sat on top of him, your walls fluttering around his thick stretch.

“mhh- chris.. i- i can’t-“ your voice cut through the constant praise and sweet murmurs from chris, your nails digging crescent-shaped moons into his shoulders.

he let a soft groan fall from his lips, running one of his hands up your back in a comforting manner, attempting to soothe your nerves and pain just a little. your pussy was already drooling around him, and all it took was a couple right words and a pair of fingers.

“yes you can, sweetheart.. fuck, such a pretty sight. can you believe i haven’t made you do this earlier, huh?” his question was mostly rhetorically asked, not really expecting an answer from you because of the already fucked out expression plastered on your face. gosh, you haven’t even started yet.

“um.. n-no..?” you shook your head weakly, your eyes batting back open to look down at him, his head thrown back against the headboard of his bed, your response earning a chuckle from him.

“i- i think i’m ready..” your words were mumbled, but chris nodded, clearing his throat as he tightened his grip on your hips.

“i’ll help you, okay? then you’ll try.” you nodded in response, his hands slowly guiding your body to move in a back and forth motion, his eyes flickering to your face to see your reaction, if it made you feel good.

still clawing at his shoulders, your jaw fell slack, letting strings of moans fall from your parted lips. chris was nearly about to cum from just the sight, almost not believing a second of what he was seeing—his best friend since forever, riding him like that.. well, grinding.

“yeah? y’like that?” he chuckled dryly, looking up at you through his lashes from his halfway-shut eyes, nearly leaving marks from his tight grip.

whines fell from your lips as you ground on him, your clit brushing perfectly over his pelvis. chris’s grip on your hips became tighter, gently attempting to lift you, helping you ride him properly this time.

“o-oh.. oh my god-“ you moan, pinching your eyes shut at his tip kissed at your cervix over and over again. “f-feels good..”

chris could tell you were close already from how you basically squeezed around him, your cheeks flushed and lips parted into a perfect o-shape.

“so beautiful.. can’t believe i’m the only one who gets to see you like this,” he smirked up at you, deciding to loosen his grip on you, causing your movements to still. your eyes flutter back open in confusion, his fingers making their way to your waist instead.

“w-what are you doing?” you whined, your hands running down across his chest, eyes glued to his.

“come on. keep going baby, you can do it,” he lightly ran a thumb over your bottom lip that was stuck in a pout, dragging it down just enough to part your lips.

but you couldn’t. at least that’s what you had convinced yourself. “chris.. i can’t, please! it hurts..” you whined and pleaded, but chris just shook his head in return.

“oh, poor thing.. don’t be whiny, just do what i did, yeah? i promise it’ll feel better in a second,” he cooed, his hand cupping your face to lean in, pressing a kiss to your lips while his hand snaked to the back of your head, keeping the kiss simple but firm.

pulling away with a faint smile, you nodded. with your hands still on his chest, you tried moving your hips until you found a somewhat nice pace and motion. pretty moans slipped from your lips that echoed with the lewd squelches from your leaky cunt, eliciting a groan from chris.

“juuust like that.. that’s good-“ he murmured with a strain to his voice, his fingers gripping your waist almost leaving red marks, complimenting the ones he left earlier down your neck and collarbone.

your eyes rolled to the back of your head before batting them shut, eyebrows knitted up in pleasure as you desperately tried your best to keep going, to keep up your face.

but it was getting hard, your thighs aching from the unfamiliar stretch, from both the uncomfortable position and how snug chris was stuffed inside of you.

“chris! g’nna… c-cum..” you babbled between whimpers, letting go of his chest to hold onto his shoulders again, your movements turning sloppy and haphazard.

“g-go ahead.. y’look so adorable, doing just what i’m telling you to,” a choked moan fell from his lips, before taking the plush and swollen lip between his teeth.

when the waves crashed over you, letting loud and careless noises slip from between your lips, he helped you ride out your high, before you both stilled your movements. chris wrapped his arms around you, letting you collapse onto his chest.

“so pretty.. y’think you can keep going for me, angel?” he whispered while playing with strands of your hair, his lips grazing your ear before his hands sneaked back down to your hips.

more bsf!chris x inexperienced!reader

𝜗𝜚˚࿔ notes: that fucking cheetah print jacket you fucking hottie!!! anyway- not over the fact my fic was in an edit.. im literally sobbinggg its so funny to me. love you freaks!:33

۶ৎ taglist: @jetaimevous @missmimii @mattscoquette @pearlzier @witchofthehour @elizasturn @loveparqdise @delilahsturniolo @phone4pills @sturnsmia @hearts4werka @cayleeuhithinknott @strnilolover @sturnvxz @lovergirl4gracieabrams @ifwdominicfike @toftomgmf @emely9274 @sturnioloangell @blushsturns @forgottxen @slut4chris888 @marrykisskilled @sophand4n4 @sturnihoelooo @unknvhx @chrisslut04 @sturniolossss @slvtf0rchr1s @blahbel668 @starkeysturniolo @miolos @user1smvtysturniolo @lizzyzzn @sturnslutz @decimatedxdreams @chrissturnioloswife88 @sturn777 @sturniolonationsblog @frankoceanfanpage @priscillaog

© ST7RNIOIOSS est. 2023

[dirtylittlesecre7]

Oh my gosh— someone who writes for nam-gyu? Am I dreaming?! I CANNOT find any fics of him!! Need headcannons about him rn😩 I feel like that man would enjoy making you cry and upset, like he would grin and laugh while doing so. (Cough— Hatefuck—cough..) Just need headcannons about that man so bad😩🫣

This is actually my first time asking, so I really don't know what to say🥲 but I hope you consider this🫶🫶🫶

-🌟anon

warning | nsfw content

word count | 0,6k

a/n | thank you so much for your request luv! I hope I could write something as you wanted

！he's had mixed feelings from the moment he first saw you. hate? anger? like?

oh no, not like. he just hates you so much that he wants to fuck you until you know your place.

"fucking bitch."

"huh?" thanos looked at him incomprehensibly, about to turn his head to you, but nam-gyu quickly changed the subject "nothing."

！he's insanely jealous of thanos👀 even if you don't respond to his flirting, seeing a man next to you makes him angry enough. at least it gives him a reason to make you cry more.

！he should be the only one who annoys you. if he sees someone picking on you, he'll quickly intervene, at first he'll protect you from that person, but then...

"are you too stupid to not protect yourself? no. don't even think about crying." his emotionless voice makes you tremble as he watches you quickly wipe your tears away "good. don't you dare unless I make those tears flow."

！he likes to tease you until you cry because he thinks you look so beautiful with tears in your eyes. If you turn your head and try to hide your face from him, he will forcefully grab your chin and make you look at him with your eyes full of tears. you will see that he is trying to calm down by taking a deep breath because oh...you have no idea how horny he is.

！If he can't sleep at night, he will come to your bed and bother you. If he can't sleep, you can't sleep either. but strangely, talking at night is when you get along the most. guess you are both too tired to argue, but that doesn't mean he won't say a few things about you.

okay, now please hear me out..

！this man is completely clingy when he loves you, but he is also hard when he fucks you, I can't say he doesn't like slow sex, but when he can fuck you like crazy, he doesn't really think about the other option.

！I say clingy because he can never be comfortable if his hand is not on your body in some way. he has to touch you in some way so that he feels better. when you least expect it, you may find his hands on your waist pulling you closer to him "mm...look who's here?"

！If we talk about life outside of the game, you can become his only world. yes, he likes to make you cry and upset. but only you. the others have never caught his attention and they don't. he still thinks you have the most beautiful tears.

！I can't say he's very loud in bed. he'll mostly let out short gasps and short moans. he likes listening to you more, whine for him and he'll make you see stars.

！he likes to tease you and make you cum so much that you cry from sensitivity. when you beg him to stop, he just puckers his lower lip in a mocking tone.

"aw.. does it hurt? what should I do?" he leans into your ear while his fingers, which don't stop, hit the inside of your pussy hard while you just had your 3rd orgasm "Is that all you can take? c'mon.. you can give me more, hm? ah..yes don't hide your voice from me, fuck-"

！he'll run his hand over you while you're sleeping at night, sorry not sorry. when you open your eyes and notices how his fingers are expertly tangled in your wetness, he'll smirk and say "you awake? good. now you better spread your legs for me and be loud as possible."

he's obsessed with you in some way, romantic or not, and he has no plans to leave your side.

[crybabybat]

Every stupid comment/rb like this is just proof that you didn’t take anything in btw. Tattoo removal is not easier than laser hair removal or other aspects of (re/de)transition. Breaking a bone or other injuries can require surgery, and can often have lasting effects throughout one’s life.

Developing a deeper voice or facial hair doesn’t need to be world ending if you realize it’s not what you want. Plenty of women already train their voices higher and shave regularly, cis and trans, intersex and perisex. Same with growth of breast tissue being possible in anyone, cis or trans.

The thing that you’re not fucking getting is that the world would benefit from not treating deviance from the ideal perisex, cissexual body as some horrific, grotesque, regretful thing. Pause to think and process for one moment, I’m begging. We do things to our bodies that are permanent ALL THE TIME. And the only thing that gets treated as an incredibly scary thing that needs endless caution and consideration is HRT.

Why do you think that is? Honestly, truly, why is it so easy to get a massive tattoo that may end up horribly infected, or not what you wanted, or just something you absolutely hate in 5 years, but the idea of a person using medication that has been thoroughly studied for safety and been around for longer than hip surgery, is so scary? Do your goddamn research. Talk to transsexuals and detransitioners. Believe me when I say nobody on earth needs to hear MORE about how it’s so scary and dangerous to be trans.

*also do not fucking get at me about detransitioners. I know them, I’m friends with them. A vast majority end up detransitioning because they realize that it’s harder to be trans than is worth it in their specific situation rather than feeling like it wasn’t right. And regardless, all the ones I’ve met benefit from the mindset of acceptance with circumstances and moving forward. There’s often regret, certainly, but in the same way that I hate some of my tattoos and yet accept their presence, there’s no point in letting it eat away at you or being angry. Be an adult about it.

I will never understand how cis people widely continue to see HRT as a huge decision that needs years of consideration and should only be used as a last resort for minors if they’re on the edge of suicide, and other things of this nature.

Like your body already has those hormones. It’s already doing that. It’s okay. They’re just hormones, you can play around and see what you like, what feels right. It’s literally fine. Changes to our bodies and voices and genitals and things are already an inherent part of being human.

It’s the weight that’s put on the decision to go on HRT that manufactures the major concerns of regret. If you decide it’s not for you and you’re upset because your body has been altered in a way that doesn’t feel good to you, that’s the same as getting a tattoo you don’t love, or breaking a bone, or being injured in some other way, or aging, or even getting a bad haircut. It is not automatically more horrific because it has to do with the perceived presentation of your gender. Hope this helps 👍🏼

[mimipolo]

nam-gyu hate fuck? Maybe hes pissed at you because you almost knocked him over in red light green light, and then had the audacity to click x at the vote. So when the lights go out he follows you to the bathroom?

Nam-gyu X reader

(nsfw)

I'll be honest I had no idea what I was doing at first but I swear I had an awakening half way through.

You'd pissed him all the way off now. He could put up with your teasing eyes and the way you managed to still look hot in a crappy tracksuit, even when you had the audacity to nearly knock him off the finish line in the first game . But why would you choose "o"??

His eyes glared daggers into your back as he watched you press "x" confidently as if you'd get away with it.

He'd make sure that wasn't the case.

Votings over and it's ended in a tie, everyone's tense and trying to convince the other to join their side. Amidst all this you slip away to go to the bathroom, he leaves the crowd slowly to follow suit.

You were just shaking off your wet hands when he swings open the bathroom door and casually walks in. He has his hands stuffed in his pockets and wearing an expression that just looks like he's plotting something. Why the hell is he in the woman's bathroom??

Immediately you recognised him as the guy always with Thanos, always just a step behind him ,but just as cunning. The only interaction you had was when his friend had made the odd attempt of hitting on you. But right now, he was nowhere to be seen.

"You went and chose "x" huh?"

You remain quiet, eyes darting around the bathroom as you back away from him but he grasps your arm suddenly making your heart jump.

"You're gonna ignore me now? You gotta mouth, speak."

"What's it matter to you what I chose."

You say through gritted teeth, nervous to speak up to him but also refusing to let him push you around. Your expression sours as he begins to grin wide, like he's pleased with your response and it'd justify what he's about to do.

"Vote "o" next round." He says harshly as he tugs you closer, his body close to yours. He only chuckles when you try to step away, grabbing your other arm to keep you near.

"That a no?" He's tilting his head down towards you, it's almost like he was hoping you'd go against him, you could hear his heartbeat as he eyed you over lustfully.

Unfortunately you had missed the arousal in his hate filled gaze as you spit back a "Hell no", you're being pulled into a bathroom stall before you could even think.

"How bout I convince you to choose "o" yeah? I'm pretty good." His words are smug as he has your back to the colourful stall wall, his hands already fumbling to unzip your tracksuit, kissing loudly at the skin of your neck. The whole situation had your hairs standing up on end, an alarming sense of arousal coursing through you.

A sharp bite to the curve of your shoulder has you flinching, a pained gasp escaping your lips as he looks up at you sadistically.

"I bite though, hard. But you'd probably like that, not even sayin' a thing."

"You asshole..."

You're left shocked by his lust coated words, your hands finally moving to grip his own tracksuit in an attempt to get him off but he's unfazed. Sucking and biting into your flesh as his hands reach down to rest on your hips, one sliding down the waistband of your sweats and into your pants.

You jolt violently at the intrusion, eyes widening in shock as you feel your resolve start to crumble. Your hands tightening around his clothes rather than pushing him away, craning your hips forward when cold ringed fingers press against those bundle of nerves. Shivering softly at the sensation, he just laughs at you, pulling down your tracksuit more for better access.

He didn't lie when he said he was good, each swerve of his fingers had you twitching against him, desperate for him to slip just one inside.

"You're wet from just this? Almost making me feel bad... but you've been the one teasing me this whole time."

"You're fucking crazy-" you manage to barely get out between gasps.

His tone still comes off as arrogant but you can hear him becoming breathless from just watching you crumble under his fingers. Two thick digits pushed inside you. Immediately taking him like you'd been hoping.

"Didn't even hav'ta push that much, you been fucking in this shitty place?"

The accusations make you whine softly as you squeeze around him, it's not true but something about the way he says it has you hooked. He was such an asshole, a sleeze and a junkie but you couldn't defend how you were murmuring against his chest for more.

"More? I knew you were just playing hard to get..."

What you didn't expect was for him to flip you on your back, hands roaming up your body to squeeze at the soft flesh as he presses his evident hard on against the curve of your ass.

"You'll never think of leaving after this." He hisses against the shell of your ear stripping himself down to line himself up against you. Before you could argue with him, even lie and say you'd vote "o" this time he's already inching himself inside you, a sharp jolt shooting through your senses. He's huffing and moaning when he bottoms out, not wasting a moment as he's already moving, making sure you take all of him as he pulls your hips back.

He's surprisingly slow, almost affectionately so. But his words are vulgar and degrading, his hands harshly grabbing anywhere they wished. Your arms are braced against the walls and your eyes squeezed shut with ecstasy as he softly reshapes you. It was like he was making sure you knew and remembered what he was doing to you.

You're honestly convinced he's louder than you, your voices filling the air as you take him. Eventually he gets desperate, his thrusts becoming sloppier and faster and his dirty words only getting whinier "such a slut", "just keep taking it."

Your stomach drops when you hear the bathroom door open, he's quick to silence you. Placing a firm hand over your mouth as his other hand reaches between your legs again to press roughly against your sensitive bud. He's biting his own lip to keep quiet as his hips shudder and he spills everything he's got in you, painting your walls thickly with his cum. He's murmuring and panting against your shoulder about how good you took him before slipping out of you.

He snickers quietly watching you almost fold when he releases his hold on you, pulling up your pants and sweats and sitting you down on the toilet seat.

"I trust you know what to vote, I'll come remind ya if you forget." He whispers as leans down to grin dazily at you, his eyes scanning your fucked out expression. Clearly happy with his work he kisses your cheek deceptively sweetly, before leaving the stall. You hear him wash his hands and whistle softly as he walks away, the creak of the bathroom door signalling his exit.

What the hell was that about...

[agentrouka-blog]

Respectfully, Do you even realise you are not the minority in this situation? Sure, some people have pushed their hate for Jewish people to extreme levels, but just looking at the map, Israel is not the victim here. Innocent civillians in Palestine, including children, are dying slowly every day. As a Jewish person, you should know what it feels like to be discriminated , and sadly this is a case of victim turning abuser with Israel. Have you even tried to analyse the situation critically outside your biases? Can you not see that this "rise in antisemitism" is most of the time people speaking out saying you can't defend what Israel is doing? Sure, even if it isn't "their native territory" is it then justified to fucking wipe them out like a smidge on the map to reclaim it???

I am not Jewish.

The fact that you assume I am is pretty telling, because the utter indifference toward what you so glibly describe as

Sure, some people have pushed their hate for Jewish people to extreme levels

by the non-Jewish vast majority has been terrifying to me. People shrug off attacks all over the world against Jewish civillians just trying to live their lives, or worse they try to justify it as political action or as something the perpetrators just can't help.

Have you even tried to analyse the situation critically outside your biases?

Have you? I'm not the one trying to press a complex and decades (centuries) old, deeply protracted problem into a simple frame of good and evil or "victim and abuser". (Nice, trying to turn the history of antisemitic persecution into a teaching moment that Jewish people just failed to learn from.)

Come back when you can explain to me how hunting Jewish children in Berlin, pelting them with rocks in London, violating them in France or burning their facilities in Australia is helping children survive in Gaza. I'm sure it's going to be riveting, seeing how me sharing (a very few) posts calling out antisemtism already provoked you into going "but Israel!!!!"

Stop trying to pretend away or ignore the very real and terrifying danger people face just for existing as Jews everywhere, and maybe I'll find your humanitarian concern credible or consistent. As it is, I'm seeing a hypocrite coming into my Inbox to complain that I am sullying their feel-good morally pure middle eastern political cause with dirty dirty nuance. For asking them to care about maybe addressing that negligible issue of hatred of Jews being "pushed to extreme levels" (as opposed to the normal and acceptable levels, I presume).

[inkskinned]

she's singing in another room and my dog is asleep at my feet. my grandma asked me why i haven't found a man yet and i laughed. oh, you know. i like my house clean.

my girlfriend is also my man is also "my partner" if i'm in a professional setting. yesterday we went to a ren faire and a man mimed at me - you're together? and at my delighted nod, his baffled, you're gay? made me laugh. a woman with rainbow hair said i love the two of you together. you're both so beautiful it's absurd.

my dad introduced my partner as my "..... friend. or whatever" the other day. he knows we're dating. in the same way, i was never able to get my sister's husband to stop saying that's gay like it's 2008. he still uses the word fa***t, and my sister's defense of him has always been well, he's just kidding.

my lover and i dance to old music in a tiny kitchen. we judge new music together and take food critique very seriously. we watch love is blind before we fall asleep and agree that if they had a queer season, it would be bloody but also make for excellent tv. of fucking course queer people would know someone for only 2 weeks and agree to get married. what are you saying.

at a bar with friends, a man puts his hand on my wrist. got a boyfriend? and yes, i do have a boyfriend, she's amazing. i am texting her while i wander around a gas station named after geese. i am visiting a swing state for a wedding. in the candy aisle i overhear: she's actually like a lesbian it's disgusting. two teenage girls with packaged sandwiches in their hands, giggling. no literally, like. i'm not, like. okay with her being there while we're all, like, naked and changing.

my girlfriend and i tailgate, drink gin and cider out of cups. from the frat group beside us, a man corrects himself with one of his friends: bro, i mean, nonbinary entity, and it makes everyone around him laugh, myself included. he razzes his friend the same way i would have killed for at 19 years old - like nothing happened, he continues: you apply sunscreen like an alien. he does a little sassy (and fairly accurate) dance interpretation of the motion. his friend is laughing so hard they're crying.

i am lucky, i live in a safe neighborhood in a safe state. my masc passenger princess comes up from DC. i drive her for an hour to where all the leaves are a violent arrangement of color. we walk along the trails, letting autumn into our blood. in this part of the state, there's a lot of pickup trucks and trump signs. when we chastely kiss before getting into the car, i accidentally make eye contact with a woman holding her child's wrist. she looks disgusted. she looks fucking pissed.

two hours later my girl and i are eating dinner on a patio, soaking in the last warmth of new england sun before the chill of winter sets in. we are giggling and trying to talk through plastic vampire teeth. at another table, i see a young woman sit up straighter. i watch her watch us. she blushes and takes her partner's hand from across the table. shy, like the taste of evening has just become something deeper.

it's worth it for this moment, i think. my lover is still humming the same song she's been singing for four days straight and i don't want to kill her for it. her guitar is beside my bed. her toothbrush is in my bathroom. in a few moments i will make us lunch. we are lucky enough to have found each other. it is lucky enough to be in love.

[pawsnifferpup]

if you have a transfem lover I do not even know how to begin to explain how important it is that you touch her without her having to ask