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unriding · 3 months ago

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very messy word dump below the cut + in tags :^) heh

okay it’s officially been a full day since reading this and i’m going to write down everything i remember feeling from day 1! and then in the tags im going to reread this (for the third time within 24 hours) and add thoughts that i didn’t put down here. SORRY FOR THE MESS & NO PRESSURE TO READ ALL THIS SJKDMF IT IS JUST A LOT OF WORD VOMIT BC IM INSANE OVER THIS FIC

okay i should start from the beginning. Wait I’ll use caps so it’s easier to read if you’re reading it bahahhaa OKAY. The way you write alpha / omega!!! It’s different from what I’m used to reading— and I mean it has a lot of a depth. The way you wrote reader being an alpha = being so protective over Aventurine fucked me up so bad /pos. Reader just wants him safe and they’re so real for that.

Going off on that, I LOVE HOW U WROTE THE READER. Understands Aventurine so well. Will literally do anything to keep him safe. Understands what sets him off and what he’s comfortable with. The part where Aventurine was talking about the next mission & reader seeing right through him ): are you serious /pos. WAIT I SKIPPED TOO FAR AHEAD. When Aventurine was trying to get reader to join the IPC? Dead. Evie DEAD. Reader saw right through him omg. Being able to notice the little changes in his scent, the way he tries to mask it etc etc. I love that so bad.

WHEN READER FOUND HIM IN HEAT FUUUCK. ARE YOU SERIOUS /pos. Fighting the urge to help him vs waiting to just make it better because reader has the power to ): I loved that so much. The struggle was so real. Literally bringing a doctor just to hear that he needs an alpha to help anyways omg. Lowkey when the doctor said that I was like PLEASE LET US HELP YOU PLEASEEEEEEE. But also. I didn’t want him to be scared either you know ):

I skipped over another scene sighs. THE part where reader said ‘I like your eyes because they’re yours” and then the end. Him saying he likes our scent because it’s ours. Are you serious /pos. Be so serious /pos.

Okay the scent gland scenes actually fucked me up so bad (I unfortunately did not dream about anything but maybe that is for the best because I’m still recovering from this scene). The part where he asks for just the wrist. Reader struggling when they FEEL HIS TEETH GRAZE THE WRIST IM GONNA EXPLODE OMFG. The immediate pulling away because we don’t want to scare him please. + the scent gland scene at the end. HE DIDN’T FEEL LIKE HE HAD TO BE ON TOP. We could lay side by side ): I was so happy that he was okay with that omg. Literally all giddy like aaaaa!!!!!! IM NOT A THREAT!! Actually that’s a lie I wasn’t giddy. I was literally in tears jejdkckckckk Aventurine 😭😭 ughhhhhhh /pos

I won’t comment on the actual scene (I am commenting on it right now actually) because I was literally so sad and my heart hurt so badly for him. I wanted him to see himself from our POV for just one moment so he can understand that we genuinely love him and treasure him & want to keep him safe. ):

ABOUT YOUR WRITING ITSELF : insanity. I will just say insanity. How should I put it in words….. just thinking about this fic again is taking all the words out of my mouth shejdjfjj (I say this as I type a 27738 page essay about it). I love how you write. I really do. Your writing style is so beautiful. I haven’t read the other tags under your fic but I’m sure many others have said the same thing!!! They word it better than me I’m sure bsjsjsjsjsk

I just love everything about it. How you add in little details (oh! Speaking of details— Aventurine’s reaction to reader cozying up to her husband in the other fic) HEJDJJDJDJ omg. But in this fic, the little signs of him being scared. Scared 24/7 actually ): I love how you conveyed his fear so much. And the way he tries so hard to hide it. HIM CRUMBLING DOWN TO HIS RAW SELF WHEN HES IN HEAT. AND THE FEAR THERE TOO. INSANE.

^^ How you wrote him so adamant about not needing help at first …. To him asking for the scent gland ….. to him agreeing to use reader. It was all so real. He didn’t just change his mind like oh okay! It took him a while to be okay with it and I love how real it all felt. You write dialogue & little details so well— it actually drives me nuts (/compliment /pos)

Oh this just reminded me. Your description of how Aventurine smells killed me /pos. And how you describe his scent as sweet. I’m really not okay /pos. It fits him so well. And … for reader…. the scent after rain ? Oh my god ???? I love that smell so much. It’s so comforting…. OMG. COMFORTING????????? BECAUSE. Oh wow. I’m really not okay now. I JUST LOVE ALL THE DETAILS LIKE THAT )))): it’s so clear you put so much thought into all these things because your fic has so much depth. I lowkey yanked out Notibility for your other Aventurine fic to highlight the parts I wanted to comment on ehdjdkkck I was annotating it like a book (I’m so sorry if this is creepy I promise I don’t do this on a regular basis. I don’t annotate fics normally. Actually please disregard this because I’m a bit red admitting this) (I just have the memory of a goldfish and can only remember feelings and not actual content) (That’s a lie because here I am remembering a lot of this fic MOST LIKELY BECAUSE I READ IT WITH MY EYES AN INCH FROM THE SCREEN PROBABLY I WAS LIKE O_O) /pos

NIGHT FLOWER: part i

Your place in the world was one of a tool. This was true of every slave: you were all things to be used. Kakavasha understood this about you, and he understood this about himself. It was how he survived all those years ago, and it’s how he survives now. And so, when Aventurine goes into his first heat in years and decides to suffer it alone, you can only think of one way to get him to accept your help: You offer to let him use you.

written for @/lorelune's spring fever collab & @ficsforgaza

13.5k words of omegaverse, mutual pining, hurt/comfort, angst with an eventual happy ending. gn alpha reader + omega aventurine (they each have both amab and afab genitalia). explicit piv sex, reader bottoms, the sex is consensual but emotionally complicated and deeply sad. cw slavery, racism, gendered violence, including very brief and non-graphic (but direct) references to sexual abuse during slavery. the sa and slavery are not eroticized. dead dove do not eat, mdni.

thank you to @acerathia, @minnaci, @owlespresso for all your help with beta reading and to @kosmiccarma for brainstorming omega aventurine hcs!

“I’ve alw███ l█ved ███, Ka██v█s███”

You knew it from the moment you met him.

Gaunt, pallid, weighed down by heavy chains. Irises that glowed like the auroras back in your world. Delicate features that made every passerby in the market stop to read the description on the placard. (Sigonian, it said, although you couldn’t read at the time. Avgin. Male. Omega. Sixteen years old. Sixty Tanba, no tax.) He had an all-consuming scent that was impossible to ignore—one that possessed you, made your heels dig into the dirt, every atom in your body resisting the impatient jerk of the chains at your wrist. Even through your muzzle, through the perpetual stench of carbon-steel and blood, you could smell it: honey and wildflowers. A fragrance that settled deep within you, flooded you with a warmth that felt like home.

Aventurine is not a spiritual person. He once told you this, his smile cold in the glow of an artificial moon. He'd been deeply religious as a child, but hasn’t since cared for fairy tales about fortune and fate, three-eyed goddesses or merciful rainfalls. Hasn't thought about anything like a destined love. He thinks the idea of a true mate is laughable, that no such bond could ever be forged between an omega and an alpha. That nothing so unconditional could ever exist.

You know differently, of course. You've known it from the moment you met him, from the second you laid eyes on him and thought, I need to help you, and I need to protect you, and I need you to be safe, and you’d never once heard the word ‘love’ in your life—slaves are never loved by their masters, after all, and you'd always been nothing but a slave—but every atom of your being knew that you loved him, that you'd always love him.

And when your master cradled your face that night and crooned that he owned you, that you'd always be his obedient, alpha pet—for the first time in your life, you knew that he was wrong.

You didn't belong to your slaver.

You belonged to him.

To Kakavasha.

These days, Aventurine does not smell like honey, and your jaw is not restrained.

Your muzzle was one of the first things that Aventurine threw away when he bought your freedom. According to the Amber Era system, it had been several months since the murder of your shared master. Ninety-five Star Calendar days after the Interastral Peace Corps had arrested Kakavasha. An entire rotation around the black hole at the centre of your wretched galaxy, all of which had been spent in the captivity of some new mistress. She picked you out because she liked your calming scent and the look of your face, but mostly she used you for the fighting pits just like your old master.

Aventurine had been sitting in the audience of your final match, then bought you out right after you won. “I’m in need of a fighter,” he’d said, smiling in his thick furs and jewels. He played the part of a slavemaster perfectly, his gloved hands wandering the span of your aching shoulders, touching the bloodied maw of your mask. “And I’d be willing to pay top credit for yours.”

She protested. You were her most prized possession, one of her greatest investments. Slaves from your planet were hard enough to come by—alphas capable of reproduction, nearly impossible. And you were so well-behaved, so poised, so endearing in a way that was rare for alphas. She was fond of you. Her omega slaves were fond of you too. They would be distraught if you left, and that would complicate her household affairs—and surely Aventurine, as a respectable owner of human capital like herself, could understand how inconvenient that would be?

Aventurine bared his teeth in a gracious smile. (You’d never seen Kakavasha make such an expression before—so disarming, so cunning, a crescent moon beneath snake eyes. He’d never smelt like this either, like an expensive cologne layered with bleach, and it left you feeling nauseous, wondering if he was ill.) He flirted his way into her good graces, made her an offer she couldn’t refuse, and then he brought you into the first-class ship on which he’d arrived. You were so stunned by its luxury—the handwoven carpets, the crushed velvet seats, the imported tea from several galaxies away and the custom-ordered outfit he had bought for you—that you nearly missed the tremble in his hands as he punched numbers into the remote control lock for your chains.

He had regained his composure by the time he pulled away your muzzle, though. He threw it carelessly to the ground—your titanium chains, too. Then kicked both away with his shined leather shoes.

“There,” Aventurine said, smiling cheerfully. “Much better, don’t you think?”

“Vasha—” you started, voice thick with wasted grief, and all you wanted to was reach for him, to double check that he was real, but he placed a finger to your lips and stopped you. You stiffened at the satin touch, but he seemed unbothered.

“‘Aventurine’,” he corrected.

You stared blankly. “What?”

“‘Aventurine’. Like the gemstone. That’s my name now.”

“You—” Your voice caught in your throat. You realized that you’d been holding your breath. You always had the habit of holding your breath in the luxurious, private rooms of very rich men, because you never liked what happened in them. Forcing yourself to breathe, you asked, “You gave yourself a new name?”

“No. The IPC gave me a new name. They gave me a job, too.”

“A job?” you asked, voice faint. Now that you were breathing again, you were noticing once more just how bizarre he smelled. Sterile and expensive and completely foreign. “You’re free now?”

“Well, I’m a freedman, but I don’t know if I’d call myself free. I’m a bit… indebted to the IPC, let’s say. But that’s fine. I can’t complain. I mean—look around. This beats the fighting pits, doesn’t it?” He gestured lazily at your surroundings, and you nodded.

“It’s nice here,” you replied, feeling absurd but not knowing what else to say. Once Kakavasha got talking, it was impossible to get a word in edgewise.

“You like it here? Good. This room’s yours. Mine is the next one over. You’ll live and work here, with me. I’ll make sure you’re paid well. Full benefits, vacation, salary, and overtime. The standard pay for your role is seventy-thousand credits per month, but I’ll see if I can get you more. HR is pretty strict about their hiring policies, but—”

“You’re hiring me?”

Aventurine went very still, his smile tightly controlled. His eyes remained fixed on you, but they seemed less snake-like, now. They looked more familiar. More afraid.

“I’m offering, yes,” he said neatly. “You’ll be part of my personal security detail. I don’t have the contract for you to review yet, unfortunately. I didn’t arrange one ahead of time because, well”—he laughed, as if this were polite conversation and he were making a joke about the weather—“I didn’t know if I’d find you alive. But things worked out in my favour. They always work out in my favour. I’ll make sure they’ll work out in your favour too, so long as you’re with me. So you’ll consider it, won’t you? Staying with—working for me, I mean.”

Your eyes went soft. Beneath the artificial fragrance, you finally caught a hint of his familiar scent—more wildflower than honey at that moment, the way it always is when he’s scared.

“Kakavasha—”

“Name your price,” he said loudly, “and I’ll match it.”

You sighed. “Vasha,” you said more gently, and his shoulders relaxed at the subvocal shift in your timbre, at the famed alpha Voice that necessitated your muzzle, “I don’t care about the money. Of course I’ll stay here. But—what happened? Why did you kill him yourself? Why didn't you let me do it? That was the plan. It was always supposed to be me.”

It was my job, you thought then, just as you had thought to yourself every night, curled up in your bed and trying to recall the scent of fresh honey, to keep you safe.

He shrugged and said, “It would have been too risky to involve you.”

“You were caught and sentenced to death. The risk was already too high.”

“But the stakes weren’t,” he replied simply, and before you could ask what he meant by that, he continued, “and it worked out, didn’t it? I work for the IPC. You work for me. We’re freedmen now. Whatever I've lost, it doesn't matter. Our gains far outweigh it.”

“And what have you lost, Vasha?”

He smiled at you, charming and distracting. A crescent moon beneath snake eyes. “Nothing of value,” he reassured you, and even though you could feel the calm of an omega’s voice washing over you, even though it released all the tension in your body, all you could smell was cologne and wildflowers, and you knew that he was lying.

Vasha once told you, curled up and quiet on the basement floor, that he despised his eyes. They were supposed to be a sign of blessing from Gaiathra Triclops, but they'd never brought him anything but trouble. They were the first thing that the slavers always noticed about him, the feature that made him such an alluring commodity. Their aurora glow, their strange beauty, their promise of a rare opportunity: a chance at owning a specimen of an exotic, endangered species, possibly the last of its kind. These are all things that you've heard in the parlour of your master’s house as he entertained rich company, the crowd of them gawking at his human curios.

Avgin are said to make the most beautiful slaves, he'd often say. And Avgin omegas are said to be the most beautiful among them. What do you all think? They'd all hum, peering closely at Kakavasha’s features, and inevitably someone would joke, I think I'd like to borrow him sometime, and then they would all laugh while your pulse ticked up and you imagined tearing at their throats. Vasha would search for your gaze in these moments, giving you a long, pointed look: Don't do anything stupid.

He’d always been so blasé about it, the way people fixated on his Avgin blood. You'll never understand how. He didn't react to any of the comments, the groping, the innuendos. He was, however, distinctly unimpressed at the way that your master liked to play him up as a rare and expensive acquisition, as a sign of his own status. It's embarrassing to watch, Kakavasha had remarked. Everyone knows that Sigonian slaves are uncommon but cheap—people always think we’ll bring them more trouble than our worth. This was how Kakavasha had ended up in the market in the first place: because his last master had been robbed, and he'd been wrongly blamed for it.

The blame, to this day, has never stopped. People—powerful people, politicians, businessmen, socialites—look at Aventurine’s eyes and immediately reach for their pockets. You've seen it for yourself, these spineless despots and scammers feeling for their wallets. Sigonian, you know they're thinking. Liar, cheat, thief, whore, worthless, worthless, worthless. Your hands tighten around your blade each time, a loaded gun with a finger on the trigger.

Alphas are said to be violent by nature. Aventurine has often called you the one exception to this rule: the most docile, good-hearted alpha he's ever met. But this is a lie. You do have a predator instinct, and it comes out in full-force whenever you’re around these particular types of men. These types who notice Aventurine’s eyes and see a thief; these monsters who see his irises and imagine what it would be like to bed him. You’d kill them if you could. It would be so easy, especially now that you are an IPC dog. The Company is already such a violent force; what would be one more murder?

But Aventurine has never ordered you to punish anyone. (Don't do anything stupid, he always tells you with a glance, smiling through every humiliation.) Nor has he ever seemed bothered enough by these meetings to try concealing his heritage.

A fellow Asset Liquidation Specialist once asked why he didn't just hide his eye colour—it would likely be better for fostering relationships, negotiating deals—but Aventurine had shrugged it off. I'm a gambler working with the IPC, he'd said. Do you really think a pair of coloured contacts would make anyone trust me? He'd laughed, and his voice had carried a threatening edge, and his coworker had shifted visibly at it. Being an Avgin is the least threatening thing about me, wouldn't you say?

You think that Aventurine likes being seen as a threat. Sometimes you wonder if this is why he doesn't mind wearing his eyes so much, but abhors keeping his scent. He washes his clothes until they're free of his disarming sweetness and then masks himself with an unsettling blend of ambergris, jasmine, and wood. And he is on suppressants all the time—hasn’t had a single heat since the day he killed his master. Hasn't smelled like himself, either.

At the end of the day, it’s manageable being an Avgin in this business, he often comments, spraying half a bottle of masking cologne on himself, but you can't be an Avgin and an omega. Wouldn’t you agree?

You'd know better than me, you reply, noncommittally—and truthfully.

But you're an alpha, he observes. Don't you have an opinion?

You don't pay me to have opinions, you always remind him, stone-faced. You pay me to stand here and look scary. And Aventurine always laughs at this, and he always wires you money and calls it a bonus as he pesters you for an answer, and he always gets distracted and starts scrolling through all his shopping wishlists instead. I saw this thing the other day and thought of you. And this too. Would you like either of them? Would you like them both? I’m a very generous manager, you know. I'll buy you anything you like.

But even though he always gets distracted, Aventurine never forgets. Sooner or later, he inevitably circles back to these questions—these anxieties about his scent, about his eyes, about his blood. He never cares for anyone else’s opinions, but he's always been curious about yours. Even when he was Vasha, he wanted to know what you thought.

He’d been sixteen years old and delirious with heat the first time he asked you, face wrinkling with pain as he spilled his thoughts. It was so incoherent, so sad, you thought it must have been about a fever dream. Mama Fenge, he kept saying. Mama Fenge blessed me, She blessed me, I'm blessed, it rained when I was born—did you know that? My luck, I was lucky. The Katicans, they never caught me. They got everyone else, but not me. I was blessed by Her. I'm going to save my people. I will. I'll save my sister. My eyes are proof. My mistress liked them. Said they're beautiful. Worth sixty whole coppers. A blessing. He pulled you close, pressed his scalding face to your scent gland, and his whole body shuddered with relief. This was the first and only time he'd allowed you to hold him, and it was only out of desperation, out of his mind. Do you like them, alpha? Do you like my eyes? Why? Is it because they're beautiful? Because they're from Gaiathra?

“I like them because they're yours,” you'd replied, and Kakavasha had laughed deliriously.

This is when he told you he hated them: I'd close them forever, if I could.

When you were younger—dumber—you had a habit of squirrelling away every spare coin you came across. You collected them in a little purse that one of the omega slaves had sewn for you—a thank-you for always keeping the other alphas away from her—and you hid it underneath a loose floorboard. By the time that Kakavasha was arrested, you'd saved up twenty-nine Tanba. You’d wanted enough to buy Kakavasha’s freedom and then to set him up for a comfortable life.

It had been a stupid plan. An embarrassing one. If you ever confessed it to Aventurine, he'd laugh at you. Slaves can't buy other slaves, he'd say. Leave the schemes to me next time. You’re too good-hearted for it.

You’d already known that, of course. You knew that you didn't have the status to buy him or mate him or even just provide for him, but you wanted to. God, did you want to—you spent every waking moment thinking about it, every sleeping moment dreaming of it. It wasn't even that you desired him, though he was beautiful and fragrant and more delicate than anything that had ever touched you in your life, which was only your master’s hands and your muzzle and your chains. Aventurine would feel so soft in comparison, you’d always figured. It made your heart ache, thinking about getting to hold something so lovely.

But really—that desire came second. What came first was how mated omegas feel safe around their alphas, and you so desperately wanted him to be safe. Kakavasha had looked so frail, so grim, as your master took his chains and led him home from the market, and you could smell the fear coming off him in waves. And you could do nothing to stop it. You had nothing you could use to stop it—nothing other than your hands that could kill for him and your pheromones that could soothe him and your useless heart that wanted to collect sixty Tanba for him. That was all you had.

So you failed in the end. Of course you did. You didn't have the status to buy him or mate him or even just provide for him. You couldn't even do for him the one thing you could have done—which was to kill. And Kakavasha suffered for your incompetence. He had to dirty his hands with blood and gamble his way into wealth and then suddenly he was freeing you, not the other way around.

And now you are comfortable. You'll lead an easy life from now, Aventurine reassured you when he brought you onto his ship all those years ago, and he's kept that promise. What about you? you'd asked him then. Will you lead an easy life with me, if you're working for the IPC? And he had smiled and lied to you: Yes.

It had been a painfully obvious lie. If you were a smarter person, you'd have never believed it in the first place. Aventurine has no interest in leading an easy life, because an easy life would be less profitable, and less profit would mean less safety. And he is always, always worried about being unsafe. It is indiscernible to everyone but you—an alpha (his alpha, always his, even if he doesn't want you) who has watched over him for so long that you can detect every shift in his scent. No matter how much cologne he drowns himself in and no matter how strong his suppressants are, you know when he is afraid.

And here is the bitter truth, the ultimate proof of your shortcomings:

Aventurine is always afraid.

It is a beautiful day on Agnisahr, and you can tell that Aventurine is about to throw up from worry.

You're sitting in the middle of stunning wealth—Aventurine in his feathers and jewellery, you in your tailored jacket—in a lobby made from marble and pale sandstone, with a view of palm trees and rolling, scarlet sand dunes beyond the window. The waitstaff addresses him as Honoured Guest and they keep his crystal chalice filled constantly with water—one of the most expensive commodities on the planet. Aventurine has been drinking from it religiously, which is strange as he typically has the habit of forgetting to hydrate. A faint wildflower scent is drifting from his slender form. These are the only giveaway to his mood: he's otherwise as pokerfaced as ever, smiling calmly as he discusses his plans to sabotage the local government and acquire the planet for the IPC.

“This is a very dangerous mission,” you state flatly.

“All my missions are dangerous.” He takes a sip, one pinky up. “The IPC pays me well for a reason. As they say—”

“‘High risk, high reward.’ I know.” You try not to sound bitter, though you allow yourself to sound tired. “I still do not think the risk is worth the reward in this case.”

“I think over 5.6 million in credits is a great reward, actually. We could do a lot with that kind of money.”

You raise a brow. “What could an extra 5.6 million get you that you can't already buy?” It is—as Topaz would say—‘chump change’ in comparison to his current wealth, which sums to a number so vast that you can't wrap your head around it.

Aventurine pretends to miss the point. “Tons! We could buy a new spacecraft. Get another mansion. Or—we could take a vacation to Penacony. I hear it's quite nice there.” A playful smile. “I could get us a penthouse unit. With a featherbed.”

You frown. Sometimes Aventurine likes to flirt when you're being stubborn—not out of interest, but as a ploy to distract you. He’d developed the habit after he joined the IPC. It used to fluster you, but now it only makes you cross your arms.

“You could die,” you point out.

“You'll protect me.”

“No, I won't. You always find a way to get rid of me when things are most dangerous.” You give him an accusatory stare. “You never let me do my job.”

He's too shameless to deny it. “And it's worked out fine, hasn't it? I haven't died so far.”

“Yes. Just by dumb luck.”

“I beg to differ. My luck is quite reliable.” He sets down his glass. Glances back outside. A microexpression, brows knotting for the briefest second as he studies the sky. “I'm not worried.”

“You're a shit liar.”

That gets him to look at you, letting a small frown pass over his face. “No, I'm actually a great liar. You're just too good at reading me. It's very inconvenient, you know.”

“I can't help it.” You lean toward him, making a show of it as you sniff. An orchid-like scent—faint but unmistakable—has seeped into artificial ambergris and wood. “It's hard to ignore.”

He hums. He isn't frowning anymore—but doesn't look happy, either. “I should change suppressants.” He taps the side of his empty glass, fidgeting. Aventurine never fidgets: it's an amateur giveaway. “These ones clearly don't work well enough.”

“That won't help. I know you too well.” Your eyes soften. He's looking outside again, the blues of his irises distant. “You're worried, Aventurine. More than usual. Let’s back out of this—let Jade handle it.”

“The mission isn't what's bothering me,” he says patiently. “I just don't like this planet.”

“Because you can tell it's dangerous.”

“No. Well—it is, but nothing I can't handle.” He leans back. “I just dislike the weather here.”

You arch a brow. “...the weather?”

“Yes,” he says neatly, “it's too dry here. I'll break out.”

You open your mouth. Close it. It is possibly the most absurd thing you've ever heard, and certainly the worst lie that's ever come from him. For as long as you've known him, Aventurine has had flawless skin, marble-smooth, and ever since being freed, he’s never really cared much for looking handsome so much as looking rich. But he maintains his serious expression: all-in on the farce. “Did you know that outside the capital, this planet hasn't had any natural rain in a quarter of an Amber Era? And the stellar winds are terrible. I don't know how people live on a planet like this.” His eyes narrow at the cloudless sky. “The IPC is going to need to do a lot of terraforming if they want to make this into a merchant hub.”

“Aventurine.”

“It'll be a pain crossing the desert—the elements will ruin my clothes, you know,” he continues. “It won't be so bad while we're on the ships, but we’ve got to go outside from time to time. Can't make any friends otherwise.”

“Aventurine.”

“And there's nothing to do for fun when we’re not working.” He sighs dramatically. “I can't wait to get our 5.6 billion and leave for someplace else. I'm being serious about Penacony, by the way—”

“Aventurine.”

“—though not about the featherbed. I'll get you your own room, obviously. And I'll buy whatever dream experience you’d like. What kind would you want?”

Finally allowed a chance to speak, you say, “One where you retire.”

“Retire? Why would I ever do that?”

“I don't know. Maybe you decide you've made enough money.”

“No such thing.”

“Then you can settle down with someone.”

That makes him smile. It feels mocking. “Me? Settling down? With who?”

“Who knows. Someone who will treat you better than the IPC, I hope.”

“Anyone that nice would run in the other direction. But never mind me. This would be your dream experience. What happens to you in it?”

“I stop chasing after you and get to live out the rest of my days in peace,” you say dryly, and Aventurine blinks. “Please stop deflecting. The IPC gave you a suicide mission. We will both die if we stay here.”

He looks serious now. “I wouldn't let you die.”

“You can't know that.”

“Well, I do. And I've got decent chances at surviving too—at least one in ten.”

You feel like sighing—a deep, aggravated noise is heavy in your throat—but Aventurine doesn't enjoy it when you show anger around him. It's the one omega instinct that he can't ignore, you suppose: unease around an aggressive alpha. Voice tightly controlled, you say, “You’re going to bet your life on one in ten?”

“Sure. My chances were worse on the last planet, and things worked out great. It'll be the same on Agnisahr.” Aventurine raises a hand, calls for the bill. The conversation is over. You lean back in your seat, watching sourly as he pays tens of thousands of credits just for water.

“You know, they say the royal family is backed by an Aeon,” you can't help but point out, once the waiter is gone. A last-ditch effort. Aventurine smiles at it, amused. Like you're a child.

“So what?” He glances outside, at the desolate landscape beyond the oasis—nothing but red sand, a blue, rainless sky, and two radiant suns shining above it all. “The protection of a god is nothing compared to the schemes of human beings. And gods abandon their people all the time, anyway.”

During your tenth day on Agnisahr, you realise that something is deeply wrong.

It takes you some time to understand what’s happening. At first you think that whatever political danger you’ve intuited is much worse than you thought, and that’s why Aventurine has been so pale, so discomforted, so exhausted. Then his scent starts changing—he switches clothes two, three times a day (because of all this heat during Agnisahran days, he tells his new business associates) and spritzes his nape with his cologne almost religiously—and you wonder if he is sick with something. If the food in this planet has something that disagrees with his Sigonian biology, or if he has picked up one of the local filoviruses, or if someone’s poisoned one of his meals because they’ve correctly identified him as a threat. Aventurine dismisses every single one of these theories when you bring it up, and—as if in denial—only attributes it to the weather. (I’ve never done well in deserts, he tells you, his eyes on his phone screen. I'm not used to them. It is above 300 Kelvin, and you do not see a single bead of sweat on his neck, and his cheeks are not even a little flushed.)

You only figure it out when he is too ill to get out of bed one morning and forbids all the IPC staff from coming near his hotel room. It sets off alarms immediately—Aventurine, no matter how sick, will work and see through meetings as long as he is mentally capable of it—and so you naturally ignore his orders and check on him, using the spare key to his sleeping quarters that you're given as a policy. And as soon as the door cracks open—as soon as you step inside only to be hit with a violent, cloying sweetness—you realise what’s happening and slam the door shut behind you.

“You’re in heat,” you blurt out, and Aventurine—a shivering, panting mess on the bed—groans in response.

“Why are you here?” He turns toward you, still lucid enough to glare at you through the tangled mess of his hair. His voice is weak, but no less self-possessed: “I was very clear—no company today.”

“I am your personal bodyguard,” you remind him mildly. Your voice is calm—both non-threatening and non-condescending. “Those orders don’t apply to me. If things feel suspicious, I look into it. And they felt very suspicious.” Your brow knits as you study his clothes. Mulberry silk clings to his form, soaked through with sweat. Thin, eucalyptus sheets are tangled up around him. There are only two pillows. No water bottles. No knotting toys.

Nothing.

“You didn't know you'd be in heat,” you realise. “What happened to your suppressants?”

“I don't know.” There’s a quiet, frustrated edge to his voice. Vulnerable too. It makes you think of when you were both still slaves, and Aventurine was confined to the basement of the manor—the one that all omega slaves were made to ride out their heats in. Either they would do it alone or were ordered to spend it with some alpha, usually either a friend of the master or an alpha slave he wished to reward. That's when they're most pliable, he'd tell his guests, or sometimes even you. They get so desperate they'll present themselves to anyone. Then amused laughter from the other party—How obscene!—as you looked away, blood hammering in your ears.

You had been your master’s favourite. His most obedient, most profitable pet—striking enough for his guests to admire, deadly enough for his audiences to bet on, docile enough for him to enjoy. Good enough for him to reward, and he often rewarded you with his most beautiful slave: his Avgin omega. Just don't mark him, he’d said, fastening the muzzle around your mouth. It'll ruin his market value. Who knows if someday he'd sell Kakavasha off to some alpha master who wished to claim him, he said. Though I don't think there's anyone in this star system who'd want a Sigonian for a mate, let alone a Sigonian slave. Then he’d paused, eyes scanning over you. As if contemplating. But maybe they'd try to get Avgin whelps out of him, he added, and you felt like throwing up.

You'd never mate him in those moments, your muzzle always prevented you from saying. You didn't even want to think about touching him, and he didn't want to think about it either. Even in the cruel grip of his heats, with nothing but the thin mat beneath him and his slave’s rags around him, Kakavasha hadn't wanted any kind of contact from you, rejecting any chance of solace. Don't, don't—not again, not again, he'd begged. Then as the nights marched on and his mind grew hazier, he’d start whimpering too: It hurts, alpha. It hurts. Help me. It hurts. Don't touch me. Not again. It hurts. It hurts. Stop it, please stop it.

It gutted you.

It went against every instinct, not to touch him. To let him lie there, in scorching, lonely pain, when all you wanted to do was to dispel it. It would be so easy to press yourself against him and let his skin cool against yours, do the one thing that your body was good at other than killing. But not again, not again, I can't anymore, I don't want it, I never wanted it, and all you could do was sit there, unmoving. Watch as the most delicate, precious thing you had in your life shatter.

And standing here now, watching Aventurine shatter before you once more—it is unbearable. He needs a nest, you keep thinking. He needs a nest and some water and some kind of touch, some kind of relief, but not again, not again, and you’re still a slave, still a worthless and stupid slave, and Kakavasha is still crying on a basement floor and you can't do anything for him.

“You need help, Aventurine,” you say, voice soft, and his whole body tenses. His scent dips, and the scent of florals overwhelms you.

“No,” he breathes, “I don't.”

“You do. You're sick.” You bite your lip. Your heart splits as you suggest it, but you say, “I can call a professional.”

“No,” he spits. The facade is gone. The poker face has cracked. The anger and the pain and the fear are all on full display, and his voice sharpens: “No strangers.”

No foreign scents, you realise he's demanding. A new scent would probably make him feel unsafe.

Then let me help you, you think of pleading, but not again, not again, and you're filled with so much shame at the thought that all you can do is look away.

“Then—can I do anything?” He goes still. “Not—not that, but something to make you more comfortable. I can build you a nest, at least—”

“No.” He takes a deep, shaking breath. “No nests. I don't need one—”

“Yes, you do.”

“No, I don't,” he says. His voice is wavering now, on the verge of crumbling with fever and pain. “I've never—I’ve never needed a nest, I don't—I don't want to—” He presses his face into his pillow. “I need—I need to be alone, fuck—”

He doesn't mean to whine. The cry for distress is instinct, something that all omegas are programmed to do in heat. You’ve heard that they’ve evolved to make this noise as a way of appealing to nearby alphas for help, but you think this must be a lie as you never once saw your alpha master giving mercy to any of his omega slaves. Still, whether it is your biology or not—the noise that Aventurine makes has your heart aching so much you can't help but step forward. But he shakes his head and inches away, shuddering violently, and then his voice echoes again in that cold basement—not again, not again, and don't touch it anymore, don't use it anymore, don't use me anymore, not again, and it's all you can do to back away until your spine is pressed against the door.

“I'm sorry, Vasha,” you say, strained. “I’m sorry. I'll leave you now.”

As the door shuts behind you, you catch a final glimpse him—face pressed into the pillows, shivering.

If you didn't know better, you'd think he was crying.

When you were both slaves, Aventurine hated seeing you during his heats.

Kakavasha was normally calm around you. Most of the time, he was even friendly (he was friendly to everyone whom he thought could be useful), but he was different during his heats. Sometimes he was vicious; mostly he was withdrawn. Nearly always, he wanted to be left alone. In those moments, all he could register was your alpha scent and his memories of what other people had done to him during his heats. And while you'd have hated to leave him, despised the idea of him being offered to another alpha—even more than that, you hated violating this boundary of his. Hated that you were allowed to do whatever you wanted to him. Hated being the reason he felt so unsafe.

Hated being an alpha.

Now that you no longer have the orders of your slavemaster hanging over you, it is the least you can do to respect Aventurine’s wish of being left alone. He has every right to privacy, and you have every obligation to give it to him. But instead you have been standing here, outside his door, for a full system-hour.

Every time you try to leave, your body is wracked with anxiety. The thought of other people—other alphas—coming near him in this state makes you seethe, your hands flexing at your side. The predator instinct comes out, and the people around you notice it. Every person unlucky enough to walk down this hall scurries away under your glare, even the other IPC staff wandering about to look for Aventurine: Must be their mate on the other side, they remark to one another, and then they're gone.

It is a hard thing to hear. You are not his mate. You are not even a heat partner. If you were, then he wouldn't be in so much pain. Not now, and not back then.

Aventurine has never had easy heats. You keep replaying your memories of all his past ones, each one a wound in your heart: the aching sweetness of nectar and honey; his withering body as he clutched his abdomen and curled up; the tears and sweat staining the mat beneath him. And above all: the fear. The scent of it, the sight of it, the sound of it in his voice. Stronger today than any other day.

By instinct, you know that he cannot persist like this. That this time is somehow worse than all those other times, and that he will become seriously ill if left alone.

After nearly an hour and a half, you finally open the door, fearing the worst.

“Aventurine?” you say quietly, but there's no response, and your stomach drops as you see him.

His body is pale, listless. If it weren't for the fragrance washing over you or the sweat on his temple, you'd worry that he was dead.

Tentatively, you reach out. Rest a hand on his forehead, and it scorches you. He stirs at the touch, doesn't open his eyes—but the quiet sigh of relief is unmistakable. His fingers twitch, as if wanting to reach for you.

“Aventurine,” you say gently. “Aventurine, I'm going to take care of you. Is that alright?”

He doesn't respond. You grimace, pulling away to fetch things for him: several spare pillows from the closet, an extra blanket too. From his suitcase, you grab a few of his sweaters, all thick cotton and fleece. He’d had a sense that Agnisahr would be cold at night. Deserts always get cold after sundown, since sand doesn’t retain heat, he'd told you while he was packing. Or I think so, anyway. Don't know why. Must have read it somewhere. Then he’d given you a long, unreadable look before saying, Make sure to bring a jacket. The warmest one you have. The elements on a planet like Agnisahr can kill a person—even a person like you.

I’m sure I’ll be fine, you’d dismissed him. I can survive anything. Any kind of weather, any kind of illness, any kind of pain: these are all things your species is known for being able to endure, the trait that made you such a prized slave in your master’s eyes, such a useful agent at the IPC. You hadn’t given Aventurine’s warning any thought and hardly paid attention to what you’d thrown into your own suitcase.

It surprises you, then, that you find one of your sweaters in his luggage. Made from Sedanian cashmere and heat tech designed by the Intelligentsia Guild. Cloud-soft and warm to the touch. Aventurine had bought it for you before you were deployed to Jarilo-IV to collect intelligence for Topaz. Warmest thing in the known universe, he’d commented. One of a kind, too. Remember to wear it, alright? Don't let my money go to waste, now.

You stare at it, kneading the fleece between your fingers. You hadn’t mentioned wanting to bring this sweater. You’d lost it in your closet some months ago and forgot about it. Aventurine must have remembered and gone looking for it, because—why? You aren't sure. Probably because it’s warmer and softer than anything he owns, you guess. Of course he’d want to wear it.

You throw it into the pile of things you’ve collected for him.

You take it all to his bed, the mattress dipping as you sit next to Aventurine. One by one, you scent each item with your wrist, watching him carefully the whole time. You’re quiet as you lay them out around him, leaving him undisturbed as you build a nest. You order water and electrolyte drinks too, and you’re quick about going to the door when you hear room service knocking—with how feverish he is, he probably badly needs it.

Aventurine is awake when you come back. His breathing is still laboured, pained—but calm.

“I said I didn’t need a nest,” Aventurine says, though he doesn’t sound angry. You wonder if he’s too weak to be. His voice is faint, and his eyes are barely open—focused on the pile of blankets and clothing around him.

“You’re welcome.” You open a bottle of water, hold it out to him. “Drink.”

Aventurine pauses, stares at the offering like it's some kind of foreign object. But he accepts it eventually, sitting up and taking it from you. He winces with the movement, which he tries to hide. He ignores your frown as he drinks, and he doesn't stop until the bottle is empty.

“There are more,” you say, pointing at the several additional bottles on the nightstand. “And some food and some painkillers. I don't know how well they’ll work. This isn't a normal heat. If you're alright with it, I'll call a doctor and—”

“Everything smells like you,” he says quietly, and you stop.

“...yes. Unless they’re mated, nests usually feel most comforting to an omega when they smell like an alpha.” You swallow, looking away. “...you don't have a mate, and you didn't want a professional, so this was the only option I could think of. I'm sorry.”

“It’s fine,” he says. He picks out one of the sweaters that have made its way into the nest, the Sedanian one. “I don't mind it.”

“Oh.” You let out a breath. “Then—can I call a doctor?”

His grip on the sweater tightens. “No.”

You frown. “Aventurine—”

“I’ve never needed a doctor before,” he says. He sounds unbothered, but he's fidgeting with the sweater now. “I don't need one now.”

A lie. He almost certainly needed a doctor in some of his prior heats, but you don't push the matter. “Maybe you don't need one,” you say instead, “but it would help.”

“I don't need help,” he says, and you look at him in disbelief. He catches your expression, and the corner of his mouth lifts. “Not more than you've already done, I mean.”

“I’ve barely—”

“Contact Topaz. Tell her I'm incapacitated. Tell her…” He hums. “Tell her I have food poisoning. The personnel too. It's not time-sensitive, our business on Agnisahr, so it shouldn't matter if I need a few days off.”

“You really need—”

“Give my regrets to our Agnisahran friends. Deliver it in person. They see you as my right hand, so they’ll most appreciate it coming from you. Topaz can help you with the verbiage. And—try to socialise with them a little, won't you? I think that little omega princess of theirs likes you. Some of the courtesans too, and they have surprising influence.”

“I do not want to be around any omega other than you right now,” you say before you can stop yourself, and Aventurine stops, blinking. His expression is blank, if perhaps a little curious—but his scent shifts. You can't identify how. You add quickly, “I’m not leaving you alone when you’re this sick.”

“Ah. Right.” Aventurine looks away. His voice sounds strange, and his heat must be getting to him again, because it carries a hint of pain. “But you have to. The IPC’s goals take priority.”

You frown. “Your life is more important than the IPC,” you say, and he laughs. Loudly.

“What? This is just a heat. I’m not going to die.”

“You don’t know that without seeing a doctor.”

“I do. I’m willing to bet money that I won’t die.” He cuts you off before you can reply: yes, you're always willing to bet on your life. “And even if I do, that would still be less important than Agnisahr. Do you know how many resources are on this lifeless rock?” His mouth slants. “If we mess up here, I’m dead anyway.”

“I wouldn’t let them touch you.”

“Yes, you would—because they would kill you too.” Aventurine sighs. His eyes close, and his brow creases—a sign that whatever reprieve he was lucky enough to get is about to end. “Go do what I asked. Don’t do anything stupid. I’ll… see a doctor if you do.”

You stand immediately. “Alright. I’ll be back to check on you.”

“I know.”

You stop at the door, giving him a long look. Seeing him like this—lying on a proper bed, cradled in a warm nest, with water and food and medicine nearby—you feel a little better. This is leagues beyond what he’d been afforded in his days as a slave, at the very least. Even if he isn’t free, at least he isn’t trapped.

But it still doesn’t feel good, having to step away. The last thing you want to do is talk to other people, pretend to have interest in other omegas. There are an astonishing number of them who are interested in you on this planet—that princess, and some baron’s son, and one of the prince’s favourite paramours—but you can’t bring yourself to care even for business purposes when Aventurine is like this. You can't act as if you are enjoying yourself when you know he is in pain.

You wonder about telling Topaz the truth. You wonder if she’d be worried enough about Aventurine to let you neglect this mission and cover for you instead, without letting Jade or Diamond or anyone else dangerous know. Not that you think that anyone at the Company particularly cares about Kakavasha—it’s only that he’s valuable. Aventurine of Stratagems is valuable. How many worlds have fallen because of him?

But he seemed unwilling to bet on his worth to them. Which is startling, given how often he's bet on it in the past.

“What’s so important about this planet,” you can’t help but ask, “that the IPC would rather you die than lose it?”

He’s silent for a long moment. His eyes are closed—hidden—but you can see his knuckles whiten as he clutches the Sedanian sweater.

“Copper,” he says. “They want it for the copper.”

When Kakavasha first suggested a friendship to you, it had felt like something in between a proposition and a threat:

Go ahead, he'd said. Use me as you wish. You can even stab me in the back if you want. Just be mindful of this: I don't make deals that don't pay off.

It might have been a strange way of making friends in any other circumstance, but in a house of slaves, it was a natural one. You had not been a clever person—still aren't—but you understood that your place in the world was one of a tool. This was the place of all slaves: you were all things to be used. Your body was a thing to be used. It was valuable for its strength, for its hardiness, for its threat in the arena and for its convenience in your master’s bed (or in a dark basement, or within a heat house, or inside whichever omega your mistress ordered you to calm down). It did not surprise you that Kakavasha wanted to use it as well. It did not surprise you that Kakavasha expected you to use him in return.

You never would have, of course. Kakavasha was not a thing to be used—he had always been a mate. Though you were happy to let him use you, because all you were was a tool anyway, so it was really all you could offer him: to be used.

None of this has changed for you. You don't think any of this has changed for Aventurine, either. With each new friendship he makes, he repeats those familiar words: Use me as you wish. And with each person who accepts, this is exactly what they do: they use him, and they use him, and they use him until suddenly they notice he's tricked them and they've got the losing hand.

You damned gambler, they always spit. You Sigonian wretch. All you know is how to manipulate people. Thief, liar, cheat, whore. Despite all these insults, Aventurine always smiles at them. Cry as they might, he’s won his bet and has their world in his palms.

Winner takes all, he sometimes gloats.

Winning and losing. Using and being used. Exploitation and treachery. This is all Aventurine knows; these are his great guiding principles in life. (He's told you this point blank, stacking up chips in his favourite gambling dens with a self-satisfied grin.) You often find yourself coming back to these conversations, particularly when you need to convince him of something.

And right now, you very badly need to convince him of something.

Aventurine is ignoring his doctor’s advice. His suppressants are unstable in extreme temperatures, he's been told. During travel on Agnisahr, they'd degraded, and now he’s experiencing his first heat in several years. Of course it's going to be painful, his doctor had said. I can prescribe you some medication to ease the symptoms, but really—nothing will work better than a heat partner. It doesn't need to be a mate. Any alpha will do.

The doctor had been an alpha. You had asked for a beta or omega, but alphas tend to dominate in Interastral Medical Schools, so they're in short supply. Aventurine had been still the whole time, face unreadable, but you could tell he wanted to throw up at the stench of an unfamiliar alpha. You had stepped between the two of them, not bothering to hide the animosity in your voice. We’ll take the medication, you had said, and the doctor had sniffed the air and nodded at you in approval.

Probably won't need it. An alpha like you could sort him out with just a few rounds, he told you, and both of you stayed quiet as he left.

You still aren't talking, or even looking at each other. Aventurine has lay down in his nest again, closing his eyes, while you stand as far away as physically possible—at the door where you'd just shown the doctor out. With the room shut off again, windows closed and door locked, Aventurine’s scent is starting to flood your senses once more. Out of the corner of your eye, you catch him shivering.

“What do you want to do?” you ask.

“Nothing.” He swallows. “I'll be fine.”

He's afraid. You can tell he's afraid. And you can tell he’ll be more afraid if you take even a single step closer to him, so you nod and say, “I'll go pick up your medication, then,” and Aventurine doesn't stop you. You can see him curling up in his nest, face pressed into the cashmere sweater.

But he still doesn't stop you.

After a few more days, Aventurine finally breaks.

There is a rare sag to his shoulders when he calls you to the room, along with a taste of dread in the air. You haven't seen him so vulnerable in years. Aventurine is not an open person, so cunning and self-possessed in his wealth—but Kakavasha was more brittle, more powerless, flayed raw and open even though he didn't often get the whip. (It would ruin his value if he ever scarred—his looks were his greatest selling point, your master said.) He was especially defeated when forced to spend his heats with an alpha he didn't want. You wonder, a vice grip of pain around your heart, whether this entire situation is simply an extension of that. Whether he is calling you here against his will, this time compelled by his pain, rather than his master. Whether this luxury suite feels like that wretched basement to him.

He doesn't look at you when he talks, nor does he sit up. He remains curled in his nest, nearly clinging onto the blankets and clothes.

“That stupid medication,” he pants out, sharp even in his heat, “isn't working.”

“I can tell.” Your brow knots. He’s in so much pain, it is palpable. “I”—you hesitate, voice dropping. “Can I help you?”

He goes quiet. As both Aventurine and Kakavasha, he has always been disinclined to accept help from other people. There is no such thing as unconditional help in his mind—only leverage and weakness. He hates it when people have leverage over him, and he hates being weak. Both are things that can be exploited, and Aventurine always needs to be the one doing the exploiting. He always needs to be in control.

Even like this, the last threads of his sanity about to snap, with every circuit of his omega biology trying to drag him into insensible lust, he fights viciously to be in control.

Winning and losing. Using and being used. Exploitation and treachery. Control and being controlled. This is how he's always lived. This is how he's always survived.

This is the only way to let him maintain control when he is most afraid of losing it.

“I don't mind,” you say quietly, “if you use me.”

Even through the haze of heat, Aventurine’s eyes sharpen. “What?”

“I don't mind if you use me,” you repeat, voice neutral. Unfeeling. The proposal might sound cruel to someone else, but not you. After all—your place in the world is one of a tool, and this is what you've always done as an alpha and a slave: sleeping with people to take care of their needs, or sometimes just their desires. It did always make you feel strangely hollow, but you think it will feel just fine with Aventurine. All you've ever wanted to do is keep him safe, and surely, this will do that, but—

“I'll only help if you want. I don't want to force it.” You lower your eyes. “But if you do want it, I'll be careful with you. You can lead. I promise.”

“...I know.” Aventurine’s voice is weak, cracks with pain, but you can tell he's speaking with clarity. “I know you will be.”

You look up. “Then you'll let me help?”

Aventurine looks away—a sign that he cannot adopt his usual smile. He’s clutching that sweater again, pressed close to his chest.

“Just your wrist,” he says quietly.

You listen carefully. “What?”

“I just—I just want your wrist.” He looks away. “Your—your scent gland. Only that.”

“Okay.”

You get up, then falter. When it was your job to comfort your mistress’ omega slaves, you were told to enter their nests—no permission needed from them, no permission needed from you, because only her permission ever mattered for anything. The omegas were usually too delirious to care, often had even begged for it with the state of mind that they were in. But Aventurine is different. He's not like you, and he's not like them. He's never bent to any of his masters’ wills. And even if he did, you wouldn't want to have him bend to yours.

Instead of climbing into his nest, you ask, “Can I sit on the bed?” He doesn't answer. “Just the edge of it,” you add, and you hear him exhale.

“Fine,” he says, breathing measured.

“Thank you,” you say, and he gives you a confused look. But then you're reaching out with a hand, offering it, and he is quickly distracted.

Aventurine drops the sweater, grabs your hand almost immediately. He turns over your palms, fingers tracing your heartlines—as if testing you, as if mapping out territory. He runs his thumbs along the veins of your wrists, too, right over your scent gland, and you have to force yourself not to shudder at the feeling. You only stay still, letting him explore the contours of your hands, letting him acclimate to the feeling of your skin. He laces his fingers with your own, a latticework trap, and he finally drags his wrist along yours.

Both of you inhale sharply.

You can't react. You know it'll scare him if you do, but it's hard to keep still. The way his scent blossoms, the way it mingles with yours, the way it all washes over you—what you're doing can hardly be called touching, but you feel like you're going mad. Especially when he flushes like that, his vibrant eyes fluttering shut. Especially when the sweetness of honey overtakes your senses. Especially when you can smell the way his body is reacting, all that wetness and heat and slick dripping between his legs. You don't miss the way his thighs rub together, nor the hard outline of his cock straining against his pants.

Aventurine shudders. He brings your hand up to his face, rests his cheek in your palm. His skin is flushed and burning with fever, and it's no wonder that he's sighing with relief at your touch. You try not to stare at the way his mouth falls open. He looks at you for a moment, his gaze a hazy violet and blue—before he closes his eyes again and presses his lips into your wrist.

Fuck.

“Aventurine—” You have to stop, voice strangled, when you feel the full softness of his lips working against your skin. He’s panting now, laboured breaths sweeping over your veins. Then you feel his teeth catch, a gentle nip on your flesh, and when he groans into your racing pulse—deep, relieved, desperate, a noise that makes your gut flare with heat—you realise you can't do this.

You pull back your hand, and Aventurine startles.

“Aventurine,” you say, voice strained. Maybe we should stop, you want to say, but he cuts you off.

“I need”—a shaky breath—“I need more.”

You watch Aventurine carefully. His pupils are dilated, blue irises nearly eclipsed. His cheeks are rosy, and he can't stop panting. You can fully smell his arousal now, even through his silk clothes. He's desperate, needing to be filled.

But he also looks torn. His brows are knotted, and you can taste a faint hint of fear in the air now. His knuckles clutch at the sheets, almost white, and he stares at them. He can't look up. He can't look at you. His whole body is tense, like he wants to bolt—and if he weren't so weak, you think he might actually.

“Are you sure?” you ask.

He doesn't nod. He also doesn't shake his head. His arms clutch at his midsection as he winces. He doesn't look like Aventurine. He looks like Kakavasha. It makes your heart ache as you watch him give into his body’s demands, wearing the same expression he did on the day your master bought him.

“...don't use your Voice on me,” Aventurine—Kakavasha—says quietly.

It takes you a moment to realise what he's asking. “I won't.”

“And”—his eyes somehow grow even more evasive, hidden by his long lashes— “don’t touch my commodity code.”

His commodity code. His commodity code that is seared into his scent gland. His code that, if you kiss, will ease his agony instantly. His code that, if you bite—will chain him to you irreversibly.

“Of course I won't,” you say instantly.

He closes his eyes. Takes a deep breath.

“And—” Aventurine looks away, jaw tight. His voice is quiet but wrought with tension: “—I don't like when people put things inside me.”

Something claws the walls of your heart.

“That's fine too,” you reply. “I don't mind doing it the other way.”

Aventurine’s sigh is nearly inaudible, but unmistakable. His scent shifts a little bit, the wildflower fragrance fading ever so slightly. But he doesn't come to you. He merely sits there—waiting. Expecting. Maybe dreading. Even in the senseless daze of heat, he’s too anxious to move.

You approach slowly. Though you're overwhelmed by the bouquet of his scent, though you feel a curl of heat in your belly in response to it—you are slow. Alphas are supposedly victims of insatiable lust whenever around an omega in heat, absolved of every action they take, but you are convinced this is a lie. You have never once wanted to handle Aventurine with such cruelty. You think that inflicting violence on him, more than anything else, would go against your biology. Every molecule in your body would reject putting him in such pain or inciting such fear. So you are careful when you approach him, slow as you inch up to him—but you do not think it helps.

Aventurine lies down, his face turned away from yours. His eyes squeeze shut, like he's expecting this to hurt. Uncertainty gnaws at your gut as you lean over him, draping your body over his—the only position you've ever taken an omega in, other than mounting them from behind.

(You do not want to mount Aventurine. You never have. It is an impersonal position, a position that omega biology supposedly would force him to enjoy, a position that alphas have likely dictated him to enjoy. You think there is nothing you would hate more. In your weakest, most selfish moments, in your worst ruts, when you’ve allowed yourself to fantasise about mating Kakavasha—you are always facing each other, and he is always looking at you with his eyes you've always loved, and it always feels intimate. Never impersonal. Never dictated. Never forced.)

Aventurine is so honeysweet beneath you. More fragrant than any omega you’ve ever been with. You glance at his commodity code, trying to ignore the scent of his branded skin, then lean down to press your face against the other side of his neck, where a faint scar mars the otherwise flawless slope of his nape. Like every other omega slave you've ever slept with, the scent gland there has been excised: a precautionary measure to reduce the risk of an unwanted mating bite.

(Not unwanted by them—the wants of a slave never matter—but unwanted by their owners. A mating bite would ruin the code seared into their neck, claim an omega more deeply and permanently than any titanium collar or carbon steel chain. It would hurt their resale value. Only owners are allowed to claim slaves in such a permanent way—and the wants of a slave have no relevance there, either.)

It's a funny thing, this surgical scar. Even with their gland missing, you've noticed that most omegas like having their neck scented by you anyway, probably from some vestigial instinct. You guess that Aventurine won't be any different, that maybe it will comfort him. But when your lips skim the scar left on him by his owner, his entire body stiffens beneath you. His fragrance cuts into your lungs, sharp.

You recoil, as if burned by the touch of him.

“Sorry,” Aventurine is quick to say. He tries to glance at you, but his diamond pupils quickly avoid you again. “Don’t worry about me. Just do whatever you need to do.”

“But you're scared,” you point out, and you see his brow twitch. “You’re scared when I touch you.”

“Not scared,” he lies. “Just…”

When his eyes finally look at you—land on your lips—you understand.

A bite would claim an omega more deeply and permanently than any titanium collar or carbon steel chain. If you lost your mind—give into the insatiable lust of an alpha whenever around an omega in heat—you might bite him, and then you would own Aventurine.

And Aventurine would rather die than be owned by anyone again.

He doesn't need to finish his sentence. You already know what you need to do.

“It's okay,” you say gently, and his brow knots. “I have an idea.”

Aventurine is always afraid.

This is a fact that has haunted you since the day you met him. You've wondered about how to fix it—the bare minimum as his mate (always his, even if he doesn't want you)—and you’ve never quite pinned down how. Because when someone has spent their life in perpetual fear, how do you make them feel safe? When their life is constantly at risk, how do you ever make them feel calm?

You still aren't sure of the answer. But after seeing Kakavasha become Aventurine, you now have a good guess.

It is clear from his scent that Aventurine does not feel remotely safe right now. Not when you leave to fetch something from your own room, and not when you return. The anxiety thickens when he sees, in your hands, a very familiar muzzle.

Aventurine stares. He is not smiling, but he also does not reveal his discomfort on his face, even as beads of sweat line his temple. But his voice is too controlled, too calm, when he asks, “You kept the mask.”

You nod.

“I told you to throw it out,” he points out, “when I freed you.”

“I know. Sorry. I don't know why I kept it.” You remember how tightly you clutched it before the incinerator, thinking about how strange it would feel, discarding something that you'd worn everyday since you presented—but you don't tell him this. Instead, you say, “But it’s convenient.”

Before Aventurine can say anything, you toss him the remote.

“You’re afraid of my bite and my Voice, but you don't have to be with this,” you explain. Your tone is gentle, soothing. Probably disarming coming from an alpha, with how he is in heat. Perhaps that's why he’s studying the remote rather than chucking it away. “You'll be in full control if I wear this.”

Control. Mere seconds after you say it, you can smell his fragrance change again, mellowing. It's only a brief moment of calm that fades when you latch the mask onto your face, but he doesn't smell as nearly as stressed before.

Aventurine watches you carefully as the carbon steel swallows your maw, its old and familiar edges biting into you. For the first time in years, you cannot tell what he is thinking—truly poker-faced even to you.

“You aren't bothered by wearing that thing while we do this,” he says—asks?—and you shake your head. The muzzle was part of you for years. You were wearing it when you killed someone for the first time. You were wearing it when you went into rut for the first time. You were wearing it when your master had sex with you for the first time. It doesn't bother you that you’ll wear it when you have sex with Aventurine.

If you could speak, you would ask him, Why do you think it would bother me? But all you do is gesture for him to sit up. To switch places with you. You lie down—something you've never done with an omega—and wait for him to get on top.

Aventurine stares at you for a long, quiet moment. It's followed by a sigh of relief. Disarmed, he—for the first time in any heat you've witnessed—finally relaxes. His scent wafts over you as he climbs between your legs, and you can feel the heat radiating from his hands as he parts your thighs, almost scalding.

He doesn't bother getting you ready, too needy to think rationally, but he doesn't have to anyway. You've been wet ever since you felt his mouth touch your wrist, hard ever since you heard him groan into it. You're equally desperate to get some relief as you feel his cockhead sliding against your opening, leaking all over your entrance as his slick drips onto your thighs. His breath shakes as he enters you, and he can't hear it with how you're muzzled—but you groan just as deeply as him at the tight stretch.

You hear him swear when you clench around him, watch him lean over you. His arms shake as he supports himself, refusing to succumb to his heat even as he chases his relief. You seek out his gaze (just as in your dreams, facing each other, intimate), and his neon eyes catch on your eyes for a brief, breathtaking second—

—before he looks away.

There's a flash of—you don't know what, maybe pain? Or fear?—in his irises as he does. A twitch of the brow, a tell he'd normally rather die than let slip. You have the realisation, as Aventurine moves inside you, that even while you're muzzled, even while he has complete control over you—he still can't stand having sex with you. Probably because he can't stand being in heat in general, you tell yourself. Don't touch me, don't touch me, don't use it anymore, don't use me anymore. He'd have this reaction to anyone.

Still—you didn't expect him to have this reaction to you.

Your hands twitch, possessed by an old instinct to cover your eyes. But you'd probably scare Aventurine if you moved your arms, so all you do is dig your fingers into the sheets and squeeze them shut. You tell yourself again and again that he'd hate having sex with anyone in these circumstances—not just you. And then you tell yourself, as a desperate, broken moan leaves his branded throat, that he would also come inside anyone in these circumstances, caught within the cruel grip of his heat.

Aventurine stills inside you as he finishes. He pants, sweat dripping down his temple as he shudders in his ecstasy, his spend hot and thick inside you. You can feel his fever break as he comes down from his high, the heat coming off his body easing into a manageable warmth.

Do you feel better, you try to say, but you can't move your mouth while your mask is on. So you wait patiently for Aventurine to come back to himself, watching him carefully as he pulls out and rolls onto the mattress beside you. He finally glances at you then. His eyes narrow once they land on you, confusion flicking through them. Then displeasure. He reaches for the remote.

To your surprise, he immediately punches in the code to unlock your muzzle. Aventurine has apparently remembered the numbers after all these years, as if the moment he freed you has been since seared into his memory.

“Are you okay?” is the first thing you say, and Aventurine gives you a confused look. He’s still panting, dazed, so you ask, “Can I check your temperature?” And when he nods, you confirm your suspicion: he's still much too warm.

There is an ache between your legs and a strange hollow in your gut (because you aren't very experienced with receiving, you think—your body likely just isn't used to the feeling of it), but you quickly forget them. All you can think of is Aventurine, and how he’s still unwell, and how you need to comfort him. The instinct is so strong that you don't even say anything as you get up, straightening out your clothes.

“Are you leaving?” Aventurine asks. His voice is neutral, completely unbothered, but the thought is so horrific to you that you turn back to him with wide eyes.

“Of course not. I'm going to get you water and medicine.” A beat. You stare at Aventurine’s eyes, then think about how he hid them from you during sex. The hollow feeling comes back, but it's mostly eclipsed by your anxiety at the next thought: “...do you want me to leave?”

“Do you want to?”

“I—” I'd rather die, you think. Being forced to leave him right now would feel like tearing out a piece of yourself. You don't know if there's an alpha in this world who could leave their mate in the middle of a heat. And even if he is unmarked, unattached to you—you still think of yourself as his mate. (His, always his, even if he doesn't want you.) “I would prefer not to. I am your heat partner. I'm supposed to take care of you.”

You hear a quiet breath. “Right. Of course. You're always so conscientious.” Aventurine nods, as if convincing himself of something. “Try not to take too long.”

“I’ll come back soon,” you promise, and the air sweetens. Encouraged, you add, voice gentle: “I’ll bring that medication, and then we can have sex as many times as you need after I come back. I'll make sure you're not in any pain anymore.” You pause, studying him. “Is there anything else you need to feel better?”

His fragrance changes once more, this time in a way you don't totally recognize. “No.” His voice sounds strange. His scent is still foreign, fluctuating, possibly hinting at some kind of pain. The heat must be getting to him again—and of course it wasn't enough, what you just did, what you can provide. He likely needs to be filled to get any kind of lasting relief, but you left him empty. “No, that's all I want.”

You nod, forcing yourself to look calm. Ignoring the emptiness in your gut. It didn't feel bad, but you hope it'll feel better next time you have sex. You think it will. Alphas are supposed to be filled with an insatiable lust near omegas in heat, after all. And even though you’ve never felt that before—never felt anything sleeping with all those omegas in your mistress’ house—you are sure you'll eventually feel it around Aventurine.

But the feeling never comes. Even though you can tell that his heat has returned by the time you're back—sweat beading his temples, laboured breaths at his lips, his bottoms now discarded, with full evidence of arousal between his legs—you don't feel much of anything as you reach for your mask again.

“Don't,” Aventurine says, before it can clasp around your face. You give him a curious look. He explains, “Don't. I don't want to have sex again. Not yet.”

You stare at him, shifting. Uncomfortable. Uncertain. Not knowing how he wants to use you. “What can I do?”

He gives you a long look. “Come here. I… I want your scent gland.”

It's a sensible request. If there's a way to seek relief without fucking someone—without fucking you, which he clearly hated doing—you're sure Aventurine would prefer it. So you climb into his nest, holding your wrist out for him, and—

“No.” His voice is quiet. “I want the one on your neck.”

“...oh.”

You stand there, not sure where to move. If he wants you in his nest again, or if he’d rather do this standing. You’re relieved when he demands, “Lie down.”

You expect him to get on top of you when you do. Assume that he wants complete control—but he instead lies down beside you. Presses his body into yours, and then his face into your neck. His nose and lips brush against your scent gland, a full-body shudder running through him, and—

—and now you know for a fact that it is a lie that alphas want nothing other than to fuck an omega when they're in heat. Because even like this, with his lips sweet on your neck, with the sheets soaked with his slick, with his spend leaking out of you—you do not want to have sex with Aventurine. You only want to hold him. You only want him to keep scenting you. You only want to scent him back.

You only want him to feel safe.

You breathe in deeply, lungs flooded by honey. You think of what it felt like to hold him in that cold basement, when he was delirious with fever and pain, and you think about how different his scent is now. How much sweeter it is. How much calmer he feels.

“Do you feel better?” you ask, and he doesn't respond, but you know the answer. His hands come up to dig into your shirt, and he presses into you like you're a sweater in his nest. Silence blankets over you both, calm and warm. His laboured breath starts to improve.

He does eventually speak.

“Has anyone ever told you,” he says, “what you smell like?”

You stare at him. Your master used to say that you smelled good, but he'd never elaborated, and you hadn't wanted him to. “No.”

Aventurine breathes in.

“You smell like—” A little sigh, shaking and feverish, leaves him. “You smell like rain.”

Your eyebrows tick up. “Rain?”

“Yes. Or not just rain, but”—he pauses, next words quiet—“more Iike after it rains. You smell like the desert after a rainfall.”

“Oh.” You don't know what to say to that. Feeling distinctly like it's a silly question, you ask, “Is that a good scent?”

“Some would think so. Especially to people from the desert. You probably smell like a blessing to them. Although…”

Aventurine goes quiet again. You stare at the chandelier above you, all crystal and white gold, and wait.

“Although?” you prompt.

“...although I wouldn't really know,” he says. “It’s just a hunch. I bet it's why so many omegas on this planet like you.”

You couldn't care less about those other omegas. All you care about is Aventurine. “And?” you say. “Do you like my scent?”

His reply never comes. He just breathes deeply again, seeking relief from your neck—not intimacy. Any alpha’s scent would work; that doctor told you so. Any alpha’s touch would work, too. There are no special feelings involved here. Your place in the world is one of a tool, and tools are never especially liked nor disliked. Their value exists only in how they can be used.

You don't know why you even bothered to ask the question.

But then something strange happens: Aventurine curls against you, pressing even further into you. His lashes flutter against your pulse again; it ticks up in response, beating fast against his lips.

“I do,” he says quietly. “I do like it.”

You swallow. “But I guess that's because you're in heat. Any alpha would smell good to you, wouldn’t they?”

“No.” His fingers dig into the fabric of your shirt. “No, I like it because it's yours.”

You know better than to read too much into his response. Aventurine had already said it earlier: No foreign scents. He's only tolerating this whole arrangement because you don't smell unfamiliar to him. Only able to use you because you are the least threatening option.

But the words break something in you—break the thing that made you unable to throw out that little pouch of copper coins that you were saving up for Kakavasha’s freedom, the part of you that made you wear that carbon-steel mask for him. It is this part of you that has your eyes squeezing shut and your arms wrapping around him. You know he’ll recoil, reject you, but just this once—you need to try.

Aventurine doesn't push you away.

He melts into you instead, inhaling deeply. Your scent gland tingles with the warmth of his breath, the feeling of his lips. He seems—comfortable.

You can't fathom why he’s staying in your arms. Perhaps he's simply desperate for some kind of relief from his heat, just like when you held him in the basement while he was delirious from pain. But Aventurine had spoken to you with clarity just now, and his skin doesn't feel scalding so much as warm, and his scent is so different than from that moment. So sweet and so gentle, without a trace of fear. It makes your heart squeeze. As much as you've always wanted Aventurine to feel safe, you'd never imagined that his scent would be so beautiful when he is.

It makes your heart ache. You've never held anything so lovely before, and you’ve never felt so warm before, and it all makes up for how badly it hurt to let Aventurine inside you. How hollow it made you feel to let him use you. How none of that matters as long as you can keep him safe like this, because you belong to Kakavasha. You'll always belong to Kakavasha, in a fate that was chosen for you on the day you met him.

You're his, always his—even if he’ll never want you.

end part i

thank you so much to lore for hosting a fantastic collab and to my sponsors who funded this fic and got it over the finish line! please go check out @ficsforgaza to find other amazing hsr writers you can sponsor in order to help fundraise! here is my own wip list, if you are interested in seeing more from me!

and thank you most of all to YOU! I appreciate you so much for reading this chapter. thank you so much for sticking it through.

additional end notes

#彡 favorites.#cw slavery #cw racism #cw violence #cw sa mention #the first sentence with the block letters ): it says I’ve always love you ??? gonna go cry now (I already did last night)#‘your eyes went soft. beneath the artificial fragrance / you finally caught a hint of his family scent’ ‘the way it always is when he’s #scared.’ THIS LINE BROKE MY HEART. his facade is not facading . WE KNOW. WE WILL ALWAYS KNOW #‘nothing of value’ god dammit aventurine i want to shake his shoulders so bad. this is killing me #OMG THE COIN PURSE PART. THE READER IS SO SWEET )))))): OMG. I remember the face I made at that part /pos and I did tear up quite a bit #‘you never let me do my job’ YEAH. what’s up with that ????????? aventurine u turd. I WANT HIM TO LET US LOVE HIM SOOOO BAD HGGGRRRRRRRRRRR #‘no im actually a great liar. you’re just too good at reading me. it’s very inconvenient you know.’ okay i don’t know how to explain how i #feel. but can I say I heard this perfectly in his voice ? and it made me react some way. like jaw fell open kind of way. your characteriza #UGH I HATE THE TAG LIMIT characterization** IS SO GOOD I CAN HEAR EVERYTHING IN MY HEAD it’s like a movie is playing in my brain mhm mhm!!!#also the part where we keep repeating aventurine over and over and he keeps talking about what he could buy ): LISTEN TO MMMMMEMEEEEEEEHHRH #‘it went against every instinct not to touch him’ THIS IS WHAT I MEANT in my word dump )): trying so hard but so conflicted because #as an alpha you can make it better for him. but he doesn’t want that so u respect it. but he’s in so much pain ): UGHHHHHHHHHH #the sweater part . are you serious /pos. this is such a cute little detail ): I’m gonna start sobbing again can we give him the world #‘everything smells like you’ im sorry 😭 we don’t have much to work with mr aventurine BUT HE SAID ‘I don’t mind it’ SO🥺🥺🥺#‘copper’ ‘they want it for the copper’ the way I started laughing because r u serious . I’m actually a little . brow twitched. BROW TWITCHE #oh okay the copper! right. the copper. (the table flips over) be so fr rn /pos #the entire wrist scene I read with one hand over an eye and also hidden under my blankets because I was so tense HEJDKCKJCKD #‘aventurine would rather die than be owned again’ my heart shattered into pieces at this btw #him still remembering the pass to the muzzle ): and the ‘are you leaving’ im literally gonna cry all over again /pos #the neck scent gland fucked me up so bad. and the rain scent. and he likes it because it’s ours . x _ x / T_T #i have thoughts about your other fic but I will probably write them tomorrow because now I would like to re-re-re-read this one 😅#I’ve always loved * for the first tag dammit I can’t imagine how many typos are in this whole thing #TLDR : great work !!! loved this > < <33

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jaylaxies · 2 months ago

Text

ONLY IF YOU SAY YES (please say yes)

PAIRING: heeseung x fem!reader

GENRE: enemies to lovers, smut, fluff, angst, masturbation, cunnilingus, fingering, unprotected sex, squirting, lots of kissing, mention of food, usage of nicknames, featuring jay, jake, sunoo, wonie, karina and ningning (aespa), and beomgyu (txt).

WORD COUNT: 17.4k words

SYNOPSIS: having your enemy in your friend group was tiring enough, however, having him shift into your apartment at the same time all your roommates slash friends had to leave you alone to attend their club’s exchange program for a whole week? yeah, that was your final straw.

WARNING: 18+ content, minors dni.

A/N: hihi loves <3 i know i’m late, but better late than never, right? this fic wouldn’t have been complete without my loves @hoondrop , @jaeminvore and @jeane-e giving me ideas throughout. i hope you guys will like it :3 (not proofread) all likes, comments, reblogs and feedbacks are highly appreciated! iloveyou all <33

Chapter 1. The café.

The sound of keyboard clicking always clicked your brain in the right way, especially when you were collectively using your brain and will to finish and submit the assignment—which was due in, oh well, thirty minutes.

It should’ve been perfect, you thrived working under pressure, you were researching on your favourite topic and were sitting in the comfort of your favourite cafe. It should’ve been the ideal environment for you to work on and yet, that just wasn’t the case.

You were so close to completing it, finally working your brain to form the best possible conclusion for the assignment, but that was the exact second your train of thought broke, courtesy of the most obnoxiously loud laugh you’d ever had the pleasure of hearing.

“Can’t you shut up for a fucking second?” Your voice boomed through your friend group, reaching the person who was sitting right beside you, “just because you have nothing to do doesn’t mean that others are free of work too,” you ranted, frustration clear on your face.

Your words were clear, however, the guy only smiled in amusement, causing your other friends to sigh.

You took that second to cuss out just how effortlessly devious he looked with his ruffled black hair, his specs perched upon his perfectly upturned nose only hid his dark eyes as he stared at you, his lips a light shade of red from how much he bit it while trying to suppress his laugh, and a smirk always plastered on his annoying little face.

“Can’t you guys stop fighting and fuck it out or something? The sexual tension is so insanely thick, I might have to use a knife to cut it down,” Sunoo huffed out, staring at your way disapprovingly.

“It’s too obvious if I’m being honest, Heeseung can’t stop talking about Y/n even when she’s not around,” Jay went on, giving his input, your eyebrow cocking up his way.

“Wait! Do you remember the Beomgyu guy? Fifteenth March, twenty twenty four, he was coming to ask Y/n out and, Heeseung completely sabotaged it by grabbing her book and running away to some other place as soon as Beomgyu started walking towards Y/n? Which distracted her as she ran after him,” Jungwon said, eyes wide and head nodding as he agreed with himself.

“Oh and, when Y/n got herself the vanilla perfume when she overheard Heeseung mentioning he hated the scent of vanilla?” Winter added.

“Right. When in reality he’s quite literally obsessed with that scent,” Sunghoon chuckled, watching your eyes widen in disbelief.

“And now she smells just like he wants each day, not that he wasn’t obsessed with your scent already,” Ningning helpfully added with a shrug.

You blinked twice to process this, having gone through a series of emotions within the span of two minutes was a tiring process, however, Heeseung was only amused, as if the teasing didn’t get to him at all.

Almost as if he was enjoying it.

“Oh, fuck you guys. He’s not worth my attention.” You side eyed Heeseung, the corner of his lip quirking up with your comment.

You still had your assignment to finish, and there was absolutely no way you were going to sit next to Heeseung with your cheeks heating up at the countless instances of your so called obsession thrown your way, so you got up, trying to collect your papers and laptop, only for your wrist to be grabbed by Heeseung.

“I’m not worth your attention and yet you’re leaving, hm?” He asked, voice so calm, almost as sweet as honey as he stared into your eyes, smirking soon after, “are you sure I don’t affect you in any way, darling?”

A series of hoots slash gasps were heard, which surely disturbed the entire cafe but your friend group lived for the drama.

You scoffed, looking elsewhere, trying to walk away but his grip on your wrist was too strong.

“Let go, Heeseung,” you gritted your teeth.

“Wow,” Sunghoon whispered, sipping on his drink with more interest than ever.

“I think you’re obsessed with me,” he chuckled, voice smoother than velvet, tugging your wrist closer to him, a gasp leaving your mouth as you trip and fall right on his lap, “am I wrong?”

Two flashes went off at that very second, your wide eyes turning to look at Sunoo and Ningning with an accusatory glance as your heart beated out of your chest, his arms holding you close to his body.

“Don’t let us interrupt, go on,” Sunoo nodded, making you groan while Karina tried to say something to calm you down, which your mind didn’t bother registering in the middle of the chaos.

“Don’t fucking create a scene here and let me go,” you warned Heeseung, looking at him, trying to ignore the evident lack of distance between your bodies, and well, your faces.

“Only if you agree to it, darling,” He whispered back.

“I don’t think we should watch this anymore,” Jay coughed out in distance.

“There’s nothing to agree here, Heeseung,” you gritted out, trying to get up and get out of his grasp.

“Yeah?” He asked.

“Yeah,” you whispered.

“Fine, then live with me for a week.”

“What?”

“Wait, what?”

“Huh?”

You didn’t even bother realizing which friend exclaimed what, you just stared at Heeseung in disbelief, hating the fact that his vanilla musk scent was invading your senses.

“Have you officially lost your mind?” You asked, genuinely concerned.

He shook his head with a little chuckle, eyeing the whole friend group as if they’ve been hiding something you should be knowing. Their gulps and inability to meet Heeseung’s eyes only made you more curious, “what the fuck is going on?” You asked.

“We’re practically gonna be roommates now,” Heeseung let out ever so smoothly.

“What?” You asked back dumbly, ignoring Jay’s cough in the background.

“Well, you see,” Karina started with an awkward laugh, “Since Sunoo moved out to live in the dorms now, one room is empty in our apartment,” she explained, playing with her nails just to avoid your gaze.

“And you’re giving it to him?” You asked, thumb pointing at Heeseung in a very demeaning manner.

“Well, ouch,” he commented just to piss you off more.

“Wow guys. And when were you planning on telling me all this?” You asked, annoyance heightened even more, you could feel a headache coming, almost rushing to you from a mile away.

“Well, we’re all going for the exchange program next week so we figured it would be nice for Heeseung to shift before that, given that you both are the only ones in our group who didn’t bother joining our exchange program club,” Jake tried to avoid eye contact as he explained.

Your mind was spinning. Having Karina, Ningning, Jay, Sunghoon, and Jake as your roommates was enough even though Sunoo moved out, albeit you had to pay more rent, but having Heeseung in the same space as you each day? Sharing the necessities, eating together, commenting on your daily lifestyle with the nastiest smirk on his face? Criticizing the way you pair up your comfortable shorts with the same, favourite pair of T-shirt you own each day just because it feels right. The way—

“I don’t think there’s gonna be any problem in all honesty, cause she’s comfortable with me already,” Heeseung pointed out, gripping your waist tighter, a reminder that you were still sitting on his lap.

You gripped on his arm, digging your fingers to hurt him, “I’ll kill you if you don’t let me get up this second,” you seethed out, your ears warmer than ever.

“Just agree to it then, baby,” he whispered, staring at your lips and even your friends had stopped looking your way by now, not wanting to interrupt anymore.

“A week alone with you would be nothing but hell, Lee Heeseung,” you said, still looking into his eyes.

“I’ll take that as a yes then. A bet is a bet baby, don’t fall in love with me,” he winked, loosening his grip on you as you got up right that second.

Even your legs felt wobbly by now, the proximity being too much for you to handle. Yet, you weren’t one to lose.

“Love and me? Ah, yes why not? Your own face is blood red with how much you’re blushing, I hope that helps,” you pointed out before grabbing your belongings and rushing out of the cafe, completely missing the smile on Heeseung’s face.

“They’re down bad, aren’t they?” Jake whisper-asked Jay, who chuckled.

“Yeah. Yes, they are.”

Chapter 2. The humble abode.

Rushing out of the café was the only thing you could manage to do, getting into your car and deciding to do your assignment right there before getting back home and thinking about what happened a few minutes back.

It wasn’t easy.

Not when your ears were burning hot, and you weren’t even sure if it was because of anger or embarrassment. Or the underlying fear of what was to come.

Heeseung was going to be your roommate.

The same Heeseung who had been nothing but annoying throughout your high school years, and now, in your university too. Having the same group of friends helped, it really did as you could avoid him (read: or try to avoid him) but having him invade your personal living space would revoke any sense of comfort for you.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

You were tired, almost lifeless on the couch after you had typed out your assignment, keeping your swirl of emotions to yourself, however, you weren’t gonna let your friends get away with this.

Which is why you attacked Jake as soon as he entered the apartment.

And he silently cussed himself for being the first one to come back home.

“Listen, I know you’re mad,” he started, sighing and brushing his hair back as he made his way towards you, sitting down right next to you.

“I’m so gonna die,” you mumbled.

“But it won’t be that bad, trust me. You won’t even have to be home all day, you can hang out with your friends and just come back, sleep, avoid him and repeat the cycle!” Jake smiled, as if he had solved the biggest problem this world had.

“Right. All my friends, including your stupid ass, will be going out for an exchange program. Did you forget that, Jakey?” you smiled back sarcastically.

“Don’t you have any other friends?” He asked and you slapped his head, “ouch!”

“Where are others anyway?” You asked, looking around the empty apartment.

“Hoon and Ning should’ve been back by now, they left right after you did,” he said, you both stood up a second after in realization.

He tiptoed to the door of Hoon’s room while you made your way to Ning’s room, “ready?” you smiled, “three, two, one—”

And there they were, in their respective rooms, practically eating the faces of their girlfriends.

“Wow, now that’s life,” you chuckled as Ning stopped and looked at you with a red face, while her girlfriend, Nics, waved hi to you.

On the other hand, Sunghoon only cussed out loud, trying to hide his girlfriend, Moon, as he asked Jake to ‘close the damn door.’

“Well, when’s he shifting?” You asked, retrieving back to your old position on the couch.

“I think he’s gonna start sending his stuff in here like, today,” Jake nodded, checking the date.

“I’m gonna explode. This is not how I wanted to spend my vacations,” you groaned and Jake only patted your back softly.

“It’s okay, it’ll be okay,” Jake smiled.

Not even a second later, the sound of the door swinging open startled you, your body shifting close to Jake’s in the process, as he did the same, a hand on top of his beating heart.

As soon as Heeseung entered the apartment, carrying a duffle bag on his back, his eyes fell on how you and Jake sat in close proximity, staring at him with a questionable glare, his eyebrow cocking up at the sight.

“Since when are you guys so close—cozy with each other?” He asked, walking to you both, a scoff leaving your lips as you stood up, standing right in front of him.

“And how’s that any of your business?” You asked, walking away and making sure to bump your shoulder to his in the process.

“Ah,” he chuckled, shaking his head as he heard you walk to your room, slamming the door shut behind you, his eyes finally turning to Jake, giving him a look he couldn’t quite decipher.

Jake only tilted his head, not understanding the enmity between you, also the sudden change in the atmosphere of the room, he only looked at Heeseung with confused eyes as he asked:

“What did I do?”

Chapter 3. Not so humble.

Heeseung loved to make his presence known, especially when he observed how hard you tried to avoid him every passing second, as if you didn’t wish to acknowledge him at all. He was settling in just fine. In fact, he made sure to send in his bed the first thing the next day, which only gave him the perfect opportunity to stay for the dinner, rest the night, and stay for the breakfast before winding up his stuff at his old place.

It was still fine when he sat down next to you for meals, at least you had your friends around for four more days, which helped you ignore the said man for a while.

It was still okay when he continuously poked your arm to ask you for a spoon that was clearly closer to him, yet you passed it to him before turning your attention back to Ning, who was around for three more days.

It was still bearable when he played loud music at night, making sure to blast it on the speaker right after playing video games, which definitely irritated all your friends, but Jay was kind enough to lend you his noise cancellation headphones as you went to sleep, which you could keep for two more days.

It was your last straw when Heeseung stabbed his fork way out of where it should’ve been. There was absolutely no reason for Heeseung to eat from your plate, and not just any dish but your favourite side dish. That’s when you took a deep breath, turning to look at him, only to be surprised as he was ready with his fork up, offering you a bite of the exact same snack he had picked up from your plate.

His brow was raised, and Hoon looked concerned, being the only one who sat down to have dinner with you guys, but Heeseung didn’t really seem to mind.

“What? Don’t wanna eat anymore, princess?” He asked.

“I’d rather die than eat from the same plate as you,” you said, trying to ignore his muscles which were clearly visible as he was clad in the comfort of his tank top.

“Why not? I’ve heard it helps in spreading love y’know?” He said, biting his lower lip as he looked your way.

“Hah, as if.”

“Scared you’ll fall for me?” He smirked.

You scoffed, grabbing his hand and taking a bite of what should have been your meal, chewing it before saying, “let’s see what kind of love is gonna spread now, yeah?”

You gave him a look before retreating back to your room.

“Why exactly are you bothering her?” Hoon asked, taking a spoonful of rice in his mouth, “are you that desperate for her attention, loverboy?”

“C’mon, I’m not in love with her,” Heeseung spoke lazily, eyes still on your closed door.

“Right,” Hoon clicked his tongue, “you’ve never once denied it.”

“It’s just fun to see her bothered, she hates me anyway—”

“—which bothers you, and hence you try to grab her attention even more,” Sunghoon said, as calm as ever.

“Stop. You’re crazy,” Heeseung laughed it off, getting up and throwing a piece of carrot on Hoon, who in turn threw a cap of the water bottle right on Heeseung’s head, making him scream out comically as Hoon chuckled, mumbling something under his breath.

“They’ll be fucking by the time we come back.��

Chapter 4. Not your driver.

“Toothbrush?”

“Check.”

“Laptop?”

“Check.”

“Charger?”

“Check.”

“Passport?”

“Oh fuck, I almost forgot that,” Karina gasped as you helped her finish some last minute packing.

“I don’t wanna go to uni, but I have to submit these files,” you sighed while Karina finally zipped up her bag.

“I would have dropped you there but I have to pick up Ningning from her girlfriend’s place,” she sighed.

The door opened right then, “I couldn’t help but overhear—”

You rolled your eyes, “—eavesdrop.”

“Overhear,” Heeseung repeated, “that you need a ride. I’m going that way I’ll drop you off,” he smiled.

You stared at him, expressionless.

You wanted to punch the perfect smile off his face.

“I told him to be nice to you, so hopefully he’s gonna follow that,” Karina gave her input at your obvious reaction.

You looked her way with a surprised smile, “you did?”

“Of course! You should go now,” she said, shooing you away and asking you to get back as soon as your friends will be leaving by the evening.

“Yeah, we should save the gas and travel together, be good to the environment and our Mother Earth,” Heeseung cheeked.

“Oh! Great, I have to go and submit my file too, can I tag along?” Jake asked, looking at you.

“Yes!”

“No!”

You and Heeseung exchanged glances.

“We’ll share, we have to take care of our environment, Heeseung,” you smiled, grabbing Jake’s arm and walking out of the apartment.

You didn’t wait before getting into the backseat, which made Jake opt for the passenger seat, Heeseung looked your way in disbelief, even more so when you smiled his way.

It was one of the few genuine smiles of yours, which Heeseung didn’t get to see much around him, however it was a given that him being irritated brought you happiness.

Jake’s campus was farther away, yours was comparatively closer, and you looked out as Heeseung played music—one of those bands he loved, but he didn’t stop at your campus.

“Hey, she has to get off,” Jake said, looking at Heeseung.

“I’ll drop you off first, you have a flight in a few hours,” he theorized.

You rolled your eyes.

“Since when do you care so much about everyone?” You asked, looking at his eyes through the front mirror.

“I don’t,” he said, winking back at you, “only you.”

You sighed, closing your eyes as Jake got off, saying a goodbye to you both.

However, Heeseung didn’t start the car again, which caused you to open your eyes again, “why aren’t you driving?”

“I’m not a driver, my love. Sit here,” he patted the passenger seat twice.

“You can’t be serious, it’s literally a five minute drive.”

“Six minutes now that you’ve wasted sixty seconds arguing with me,” he spoke, checking his watch as if that would do anything.

You rolled your eyes yet again, something you’d do quite frequently around him, but nevertheless, you got off and walked to the passenger seat, closing the door shut and grabbing the seatbelt, only to turn around and see Heeseung’s face right in front of you.

“W—what are you doing?” You asked, breath shaky.

“Was gonna help you with the belt, but you’re fast hm?”

“I can do it—”

“Shh, just sit comfortably,” he whispered, his warm fingers touching yours, covering your hand fully before you let go of the belt, allowing him to buckle you up.

His messy hair fell on his forehead in soft waves, a constellation of light freckles covered his cheek, a broken eyelash rested there comfortably, and his scent, his ever so present scent invaded your scenes yet again.

“You’ve got a little something here,” you told him gently, pointing out where his eyelash was.

“Oh, just a minute,” he mumbled, carefully picking it up and placing the lash on the back of his hand.

Observing him was all you could do, especially when he looked so innocent as he closed his eyes, mumbling something under his breath before he curled his lips into a sweet pout, blowing the air on his fist in a gentle breeze.

“What did you wish for?” You asked before you could stop yourself.

He chuckled, only looking your way, “let me know if it comes true, princess.”

You couldn’t speak anymore, even when he leaned back with a slight smile on his face, starting the car again and driving.

You somehow subtly kept on noticing him, his grip on the steering wheel, the veins prominent on his hand and arms, his lip bitten in slight concentration. You shook your head, looking outside again, and in no time, you were in front of your campus.

“You’re welcome, princess,” he spoke, voice ever so smooth and you simply squeaked out a thank you before rushing out.

You blamed his scent.

It was all because of his scent.

Chapter 5. Home Alone.

It was three minutes past seven, the sun was setting and so was your mood as you bid goodbye to your friends who were filling up their bags in the backseats of the cabs they had booked.

Jay was busy giving you a list of things to take care of while they were gone. Karina hugged you as she waved a bye, Ningning only winked your way, looking at Heeseung right after. Sunghoon and Winter were already sitting in the car, too excited to leave while Jake waved at you like a happy puppy.

Heeseung stepped right in front of you, waving back with more enthusiasm than he had ever displayed before, screaming happy journey to everyone as the cars left one by one.

That’s what you have to deal with now.

With that, Heeseung made his way into the apartment again as you stood there for a minute more, slapping your forehead a few times, “I can do it,” you whispered, “it’ll be okay, I’ll keep myself busy, I’ll be okay.”

Overthinking was your detrimental forte, the one that Heeseung never failed to fuel. You should catch him off guard too, shouldn’t you? You should’ve grabbed his collar and warned him instead of freezing on the spot.

Your train of thought broke the second you stepped into the house, being caught off guard yet again by none other than Lee Heeseung, who so carefully grabbed one of your wrists and pinned you against the door, closing it right behind you in a swift go, “hi,” he smiled.

You’ve had enough, grabbing his collar into a fist and pulling him even closer, “fuck,” he groaned.

“It hasn’t even been a fucking minute and you’re already making my life a living hell, I swear to god, Heeseung.” You let go of the collar, grabbing his hair by the nape to pull him away.

The action which caused him to moan.

You let go of him that very second as he closed his eyes, “you’re such a pervert. Ew! What the fuck?” You looked at him with wide eyes, even more so when he chuckled deeply, his eyes on you again.

“Can’t blame me for that one, it feels really good, princess,” he said, putting his hands up in surrender.

“This won’t do,” you said, a hand on your forehead again.

“So what? Wanna set up rules like they do in those stupid movies?” He suggested, sitting down on the couch and looking at you, as if he expected you to sit down with him.

“Rules?” You pondered for a second, “yeah, anything to keep your behaviour in check,” you mumbled, and soon, you both were sitting on the opposite chairs of the dining table as you scribbled down the rules.

Y/N and Heeseung’s one week agreement <3

1. No touching each other. 2. No stealing food. 3. No loud music and video games. 4. No bringing guests without prior notice.

“No guests?”

“No. Keep your girlfriends away from here, understood?” You asked.

He chuckled, amused, “why? Would that bother you, princess? You don’t have to worry y’know? You’ll always be the number one in my heart,” he winked, resting his hand on his chest.

“No, thanks. Still don’t want you,” you told him, even though his last statement did sound sincere.

Way too sincere for your own liking.

“Can I write too?” Heeseung asked, and you raised your brow.

“Since you asked nicely.”

5. Chores will be divided equally. 6. One hour bonding time each day. 7. Y/N can’t avoid Heeseung.

“Why do we need bonding time?” You asked midway.

“Cause we’re gonna live together, so we should put our differences aside,” he shrugged, and you stared at him.

“We can just ignore each other.”

“Now, where’s the fun in that?”

“This isn’t a game, Heeseung.”

“But it’s exciting,” he said, and you sighed.

Arguing with him was pointless.

“Okay, fine.”

9. Maintain cleanliness.

That was the last point you added before you both signed the sheet, agreeing to add more in case you come up with any rules. It was the most normal you had been with Heeseung, but you still wanted to be away.

You didn’t wanna hurt yourself.

You tried not to think about it as you went to sleep, but it didn’t work much, not when your mind was hyper aware of the silence in the apartment. That’s when you decided to get up and grab a midnight snack, perhaps a cup of noodles would help you sleep better.

With tiredness still evident in your eyes, you worked the stove on, grabbing a pot to heat up water, standing still as you took the support of the marble countertop, your palms lay flat on it as you stared at the packet of mint chocolate that was in the shelf in front of you, something that Sunoo possibly had forgotten to take with him.

“Not sleepy?” A husky voice made you gasp and turn around, caging you right in between the counter and Heeseung.

“Fuck! You scared me,” you gasped at his shirtless figure, “why the fuck are you awake and why are you not clothed?” You asked, distressed.

“I heard noises from the kitchen so I obviously had to come over and check,” he said, tilting his head innocently right after, “I have to make sure the princess is safe, right?”

“I can very well take care of myself, thanks,” you huffed, waiting for him to move, which did not happen.

“Okay, then try pushing me away,” Heeseung said, a slight close-lipped smile present on his face.

You simply made use of the little space to pour the hot water into the cup noodles, covering it with its lid.

“You love these games too much, don’t you?” You said, finally looking up to see his body right in front of your face.

With thick yet lean muscles, he stood tall, his clavicles visible in an attractive fashion as the dim lights of the room only enhanced the slight traces of his abs, making it evident that Heeseung included working out in his daily routines.

You gulped unknowingly, closing your eyes for a second before meeting him, only for his eyes to fall on your lips for a slight enough, just enough for you to miss it.

“Not gonna push me?” He asked, still playful, but with a gentle rasp in his voice.

“You’re not appropriately clothed for me to touch you, Heeseung,” you said, trying to muster a bored, unimpressed expression, as if your ears weren’t burning warm.

“Why? Does skin to skin contact scare you now?” He challenged, “one touch is all it takes, babe.”

“Oh lord,” you groaned, stretching your neck back, only to find Heeseung’s gaze more intense than ever, “fine, move.”

You placed your cold hand on his warm torso, right above his heart, and you could have sworn it was beating a tad bit faster than how a normal heart should be beating.

Pushing him was practically impossible, especially when he bit his lip and chuckled, not moving an inch despite your efforts. The room felt warm as you scoffed and retrieved your hand.

“Can’t move?” He teased.

“I’m just tired, move.”

“Or, you’re just weak.”

“That’s all you can do Heeseung, challenge a tired girl who’s trying to eat.” You pushed him again.

“I’m strong, princess. Don’t you see?” He pointed at his body, and you closed your eyes yet again, trying to convert your feelings into anger.

“Your body might be strong but your fucking ego is weak.” You said finally shoving him enough for you to move.

“Now, now. That’s wrong, princess.” He said, grabbing your cup noodles and testing your patience yet again.

Messing with you was one thing.

Messing with you while you were sleepy was another thing.

But messing with you while you were sleepy and hungry, that was war.

“Give me the noodles back you small dicked asshole!” You chased after him.

He stopped you easily with a hand, twirling you around and pulling you back, his bare chest pressed against your back.

“Small dick, hm?” He mumbled, keeping the noodles on the counter beside you, dragging his warm fingers across your bare tummy, stopping right on your belly button, “it would go up to here, yeah,” he caressed the area before letting go of you.

You stood there, breathing hard as your cheeks burned with the implication of his cock in your cunt, deep inside you at that.

“How do you even get women, all talk and no action?” You asked, walking back to your room with the noodles in your hands, avoiding the fact that you were completely flustered.

“Oh I’ll show you all the action you need to see, princess,” he winked as you turned to look at him, his hands stuffed in the pocket of his sweatpants, “g’night, darling,” he smirked, walking away as you spent the night punching your pillow, eating your now soggy noodles.

Lee Heeseung was going to be the end of you.

Chapter 6. A proof?

In the span of a few days that Heeseung shifted at your apartment, you realized a few things.

First, Lee Heeseung loved being shirtless.

Second, Lee Heeseung was a good cook.

And third, Lee Heeseung was the biggest flirt known to mankind.

Now, putting them all together; you didn’t expect to wake up with the scent of fresh waffles and fruits spreading around the apartment. Nor did you expect Heeseung to set up a plate full of breakfast for you right around the time you woke up, that too with the biggest smile on his face.

It felt like a dream almost, and you were ready to ignore his shirtless body that gave you goosebumps and a sincere smile that almost made you smile too, to thank him.

But then, he did what he had to.

He opened his mouth and ruined it, going on about how you should eat fruits, it makes the cum taste sweeter, he said munching on an apple, laughing louder when you threw a spoon at him. That added to your annoyance simply because of the fact that he was practically glowing even in the morning, the radiant aura was too much for you to handle and you simply decided to avoid and ignore everything to have a spa day to yourself.

Heeseung did question why you were leaving, and you didn’t miss the hint of frown that was plastered on his face for a split second when he learned that you wouldn’t be around for the day, which you ignored because why would he even be sad? Just because he wouldn’t get to bother you today? That must be it.

“Come back soon, I still have things to prove to you,” he said, and you didn’t know what to expect anymore as you left the apartment.

There’s some sort of power in self care that makes you feel as if nothing could ever go wrong with you once you’re fully pampered, especially when your nails are freshly done, shaded in your favourite tone.

It’s seven in the evening when you get back home with three bags full of clothes hanging on your arms. Retail therapy was the way to go, it definitely de-stressed you for the day. It was too peaceful, and you didn’t know what was to come when you unlocked the door to your apartment, entered the hallway, taking off your shoes and furrowing your brows at the extra pair of heels there, along with the unusual sound.

You couldn’t quite pinpoint the noise that you were hearing. It wasn’t the usual music Heeseung played, nor was it the sound of the gaming system he often used, so you stepped in further, your heart pounding as the weak whimpers and the sound of slapping got closer.

The door to Heeseung’s room was wide open, and you found yourself peeking in before you could stop yourself, only for your eyes to go wider than ever as you saw what was going on inside.

The lights were dimmed, set to blue which made the room look hotter. On the bed was a girl you had never seen before, her face buried into the mattress as she made lewd noises, your mouth hung open, your heart beating faster as your eyes met that of Heeseung’s, his hair messier than ever and the cockiest smirk plastered on his face.

He was naked.

He was fucking the most brutal backshots into the cunt of the stranger, holding onto her waist and squeezing it, as if putting up a show for you as Meddle about by Chase Atlantic played in the background.

“Heeseung?” You whispered to yourself, your eyes never leaving his thick cock, observing his strong thrusts as if you were dazed—which you were.

And if that wasn’t enough, Heeseung had to take it up a notch by groaning out your name, spanking the girl’s ass and throwing his head back, mumbling your name and gulping as you saw his adam’s apple bobbing up and down.

He was fucking another girl and thinking of you, deliberately so.

You were too shocked to function, your arms losing their strength as your bags fell to the ground. The noise made you snap out of your dazed state, and soon you found yourself running to your room, locking the door behind you and leaning on it, covering your mouth as your chest heaved up and down.

That’s when you realized what Heeseung was trying to do—he proved it.

He proved exactly what he had promised you at night, and you knew you weren’t going to sleep tonight, simply because the guy you hated had proved it.

He indeed had a big fucking cock.

And he knew exactly how to use it.

Sleep was merely a concept to you for the majority of the night. How could you even close your eyes when you could see the most vivid image of Heeseung fucking a girl the second your eyelids close?

You had goosebumps over your body, your thighs pressed together as you thought back upon how he specifically groaned your name right after he saw you watching him.

“Ugh!” You groaned, rolling around and punching the pillow out of pure frustration.

You hated Heeseung yet he was the only thing on your mind.

“This can’t be real, there’s no way this is real,” you mumbled to yourself, your face getting hotter by the second but somehow, you managed to shut your eyes and drift to the wonderful place called the dreamland.

Chapter 7. Adulterated retaliation.

Overthinking was going to be your demise.

If it wasn’t enough as it was when you were awake, it was worse when you were asleep in your subconscious because there was no way you had just woken up with a gasp and, well, wetness in your panties that seeped through them and covered the crotch of your shorts.

You had a wet dream about the very man you swore you hated.

Grabbing your pillow, you hid your face as you let out a scream, looking distressed as you stared at your reflection when you got up. Flashbacks of how you dreamed to be the girl Heeseung fucked were scattered all over your mind.

“He groaned my name,” you mumbled, trailing your hand down your pants and into your panties, caressing the length of your cunt only for your pretty manicured fingers to come out soaked in your wetness.

“Fuck,” you groaned, “I need to avoid him.”

You knew for a fact that after last night, avoiding Heeseung would be the most difficult thing to do, cause he wouldn’t let it slide by any means.

However, you were surprised when you saw the kitchen and dining area empty, a plate was still kept there full of food for you, and you couldn’t be happier sitting peacefully and having your brunch, now that you had woken up late.

It was only when you were done washing your hands, wiping them clean of water with the towel, you felt someone’s presence behind you, and before you could fully turn around, Lee Heeseung had his slender fingers wrapped around your wrist, your body going stiff as a reminder of what had happened yesterday, but at least he was fully clothed today.

“Pretty nails,” he inspected them, leaning down to whisper in your ear, “hold this,” he asked you, giving you a bottle, not waiting for you to hold it as he practically made you wrap your fingers around it.

“The fuck—” you opened your mouth but Heeseung let go that very second.

“Yeah, they would look pretty wrapped around my c—” he mumbled, walking away, leaving you shocked yet again.

At this point, you were pretty sure he was toying with you cause there’s no way he was acting so nonchalant about everything he did since he shifted to your, now his too, apartment.

You sighed loudly, keeping the bottle away on the counter before you leaned back against it, wondering what to do to deal with Heeseung. There was a bitter feeling in your chest, you weren’t sure why. Was it that easy for Heeseung to bring someone home? Fuck rules, he didn’t care about any of that. You wondered why you both even bothered to make them in the first place.

And somehow, just somewhere deep inside you, there was this feeling that you wanted to do something similar to take revenge on him. But would you call a guy to aimlessly fuck you on your bed? No.

You’d rather call a guy up for a hangout, a guy who was actually your friend and didn’t go for the exchange program, a guy you knew Heeseung despised.

Maybe that would keep Heeseung at bay.

Or maybe that’ll make him jealous and keep you closer.

A voice whispered from inside your subconscious, and you clenched your jaw, wondering why you couldn’t decide which scenario you would prefer more.

Nevertheless, you went on with the plan, texting Gyu to ask him if he was free for the day, mentally thanking the teacher that paired you up with him last semester for a presentation, courtesy of which you got his number. He called you the second his phone chimed from your text.

“Y/N,” he practically cheered, you could feel the happiness ooze out of his voice, and you smiled as you asked him how he’s been, and if he was free this evening.

“Fuck! I have to run errands today, can I come over tomorrow though?” He asked and you sighed, saying yes.

At least you’ll have a distraction tomorrow, right?

“How do you miss me all of a sudden though? Finally realized you’re in love with me?” He chuckled, asking you the question and you shook your head laughing, knowing he couldn’t see you.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Gyu, I’m just bored at home, yeah?” You explained, and he promised that he’d be there to entertain you tomorrow afternoon.

Now though, you weren’t sure what to do for the day. Writing a diary? Nah. Listening to podcasts? Your brain was too clouded for that. You simply opted to take a shower and go out for a drive. It wasn’t like you were inexperienced by any means, it was just the fact that you hadn’t had sex in long which is why you were so frustrated.

Right?

You gulped, letting the warm water droplets caress your skin as they cascaded down the curves of your body. Even the slightest touch made you feel good, the bathroom getting fogged up as you took your time with the shower. But were you satisfied? You could hear the music blasting from Heeseung’s room now and his level of unbothered definitely bothered you.

“Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you,” you groaned, stepping out after getting ready for your drive. You thank the lords that you had a car, and you simply decided to visit the lake nearby as you grabbed your car keys and put on your shoes.

“Where are you going?” Heeseung asked, and you wondered how he always had the perfect timing when it came to you being out of your room.

“Away from you,” you mumbled.

He chuckled, “why, princess? What’d I do?” He rasped, and you didn’t bother looking at him, tightening your laces the second you heard him call you that stupid nickname yet again.

“Nothing. Nothing at all,” you grumbled, standing up, “you’ve been breaking rules left right and straight ever since you entered this apartment, and the audacity to bring someone else home to fuck while keeping the door open and—” you said it all in a breath, closing your eyes simply because you couldn’t repeat what he had done.

“And?” Heeseung came closer, and you looked at his wet bangs as if he had freshly come out of the shower.

Your tongue poked your inner cheek as you grabbed his T-shirt, something he did not expect as his hand landed on your waist, pulling you to him, “you’re so fucking annoying, I hate you,” you seethed out.

You could clearly see him being flustered, probably because you instigated this interaction, “you hate me?” He asked, dazed, looking down at your lips, “you sure? Cause I think you’re in love with me.”

“You’re the one who’s looking at my lips, you’re the one who was moaning out my name, you’re the one who’s dreaming about my fingers wrapped around your fucking cock,” you finally let out, “are you sure it’s not you who’s craving me?” You chuckled.

You had officially lost your mind.

“I—” Heeseung started, his eyes never leaving yours, but you could see a hint of uncertainty on his face, as if he was contemplating on saying something, and you didn’t let him.

“You’re pathetic.” You let go of him, pushing his shoulder, but he only grabbed your neck and pulled you back, his other hand now behind your head so you wouldn’t hurt yourself as he pushed you against the wall.

“Yeah? And you’re not? Are you not thinking about last night, Y/N?” You gasped as his lips barely caressed yours.

You would feel your knees giving up, especially when he took your name with such emphasis that you couldn’t help but look at him, his fingers coming up from your neck to your jaw, cupping it gently before he placed his thumb on your bottom lip.

“Isn’t that why you’ve been avoiding me, hm? You wanna be that girl so fucking bad, don’t you?” A shiver went down your spine as his voice got deeper by an octave.

“Shut up,” you breathed out.

“Why, princess? Do you not wanna kiss me?” He bit his bottom lip as you stared at him hopelessly, your breath hitched as your heart hammered against your ribcage.

“No,” you mumbled.

He smirked, “no?”

“Heeseung,” you whispered, frustration clear in your voice.

You hated him.

And you hated yourself more for wanting to kiss his stupidly inviting lips.

“Yes, baby?”

“I—”

“You?”

“Please,” you closed your eyes, not believing the situation yourself.

“Please what, my love?”

You whined, not having it in you to say it out loud.

“I won’t kiss you till you say yes,” he shook his head slowly, his thumb still tracing your lip.

“Fuck it, yes,” you groaned, pulling him closer by his collar as he quickly cupped your face.

His lips were plush against yours, warm and inviting to the point he was rushing to have you closer to him, absorbing the moan that you barely got to let out. He was needy, almost as frustrated as you, your fingers gripping the hair on his nape, a gasp leaving his mouth as you both leaned back for a microsecond, still connected by a string of saliva.

You were on your tiptoes, your body getting warmer by the second, pressed against his as you breathed heavily as he licked your mouth open, shoving his tongue in to get a taste of you, his warm breath made you lose your last bit of sanity. He was groaning, trying to get used to your taste, something which he had wanted to do for a while now. He was practically drooling into your mouth like a hungry puppy, his spit dripping down your chin. Your tongue was quick to lap it up when he leaned back to breathe, but his own tongue was quick enough to rest on yours as you both tasted your mixed saliva.

That’s exactly when you opened your eyes, only to see Heeseung’s flushed face looking at you with dark, desperation filled eyes. That’s when you finally came back to your senses.

You had just kissed Heeseung.

And you liked it.

Well, fuck!

You had to run, you had to leave.

That’s exactly what you did, panic clear on your face as Heeseung saw you rush out of his arms and run out of the apartment, he called out your name but you didn’t look back, your heartbeat skyrocketing as you started your car to drive away.

It was all a blur to you as you somehow managed to reach the lakeside parking, which was almost empty on the side you had parked your car. Your mind was elsewhere, the taste of him lingered on your lips.

“What did I just do?” You asked yourself, covering your mouth as you groaned.

Mentally slapping yourself, even more so when you shifted in your seat, only to discover that you felt wetness in your panties. They were soiled simply because Heeseung had shoved tongue in your mouth.

“Fuck you, Lee Heeseung,” you mumbled closing your eyes and leaning your head against the cold window, slowly unbuttoning your jeans, unzipping them right after.

“I hate you, I hate you,” you whispered, letting your fingers travel down your body, and into your panties.

The cold of your fingertips juxtaposed the warmth of your cunt, the warmth of your clit, your body reacting to the touch as you gasped, the image of Heeseung’s slender fingers crossing your mind as you pressed your cunt to feel something, anything, that would make you feel better. You were soaking wet.

All you wanted was to be taken care of, you wanted this frustration to go away and it didn’t matter that you were in public, your car windows were tinted for a reason as you spread your legs and pulled your bottom wear down, exposing your cunt. A deep shaky breath left your mouth as you placed your fingers yet again.

Heeseung would rub your cunt in gentle circles.

Your subconscious said, as you stimulated your cunt, your eyelids fluttered close, thinking about Heeseung and his veiny hands. That’s exactly what you needed—what you craved.

Heeseung was right, you’re the one who’s been so desperate to have him, that was proof enough as you moaned out his name, shoving two fingers inside your cunt that was begging to be filled with Heeseung’s cock. You threw your head back, desperately fucking yourself, teasing your neglected clit with your other hand.

“Ah—fuck!” You cried out, thrusting your hips up to meet your fingers. It was almost pathetic how needy you were being, especially when you didn’t even remember the last time being this horny.

Truth be told, no guy ever made you this wet with just a kiss, so it was definitely concerning how Heeseung (read: your enemy) had managed to do so just by provoking you non stop.

You mumbled his name, your thighs closing when you felt your high approaching, sweat forming on your forehead as you leaned against your seat, your right on the edge, a few more thrusts and you’d be done.

Your breathing gets louder, the plea of Heeseung’s name only makes your climax approach faster as you thrusted your digits in, sloppily so, a tear rolling down your cheek as the image of Heeseung moaning out your name flashed in your mind. That was your last straw.

Your thighs shook as your body tensed up, the familiar feeling of your unadulterated pleasure approaching washed over your body, now more powerful than ever, coating your fingers with your juices of desperation.

You were breathing hard, trying to come back to yourself after having the quickest, best orgasm of your life which most certainly did fog up your side of the window.

That’s when you let everything settle in your head, a scoff leaving your lips as you realized.

You wanted Lee Heeseung.

Chapter 8. Revenge, sue for damages?

It felt like a walk of shame when you entered the apartment again, being careful to tiptoe, as to not alert Heeseung of your presence by any means. Too much had happened to you in the span of two days, and you weren’t sure how you’d even get on terms with all of this.

You had successfully closed the door to your room by the time a thought popped up in your mind: what would Heeseung be up to now?

He didn’t have any time to react when you left, even then he was calling out your name. You wondered if he even wished to talk to you anymore. You wondered if it was just a game to him, now that you had realized that you actually truly did want a piece of him, you couldn’t help but think if he wanted the same, or was it just his way to maybe bother you?

You had no clue, and you most certainly weren’t going to confront him about it, you hated every bit of confrontations, and this was something that made you want to run away and never come back.

Heeseung on the other hand was wide awake and aware of your presence. He felt calm now that you were back, he had been worried ever since you left hours ago, you never once checked your phone when he called you, it was on do not disturb, and you hadn’t checked it. Heeseung wondered what you’d think of him when you see 26 missed calls on your phone.

He was confused, but there was a hint of a smile on his face as he touched his lips again for the nth time today, frowning right after as he thought of you never wanting to talk to him again.

Did he go too far this time?

He was dazed, a groan left his mouth as he punched the pillow next to him, he couldn’t control himself, not when you were so close to him, not when your scent lured him in. That wasn’t how he expected to kiss you, but now that he knew what you tasted like, it was hard for him to think of anything else but your lips.

However, the thought of you hating him kept him awake.

The thought of him hating you kept you awake.

And somehow you both fell asleep at the same time, your mind too tired to form another thought as you let the sleep take over.

You knew you’d wake up late, you were bound to wake up at 2 when you had slept (barely) at four in the morning.

However, in the midst of this chaos, you very conveniently forgot the plans you had made the prior day. Your head was hurting when you woke up, and you had no plans to go out of your room as you got up and took a shower in the bathroom attached to your room.

“Ugh, why’s my life like this?” You asked yourself as you brushed.

There was no answer, which only irritated you more.

It wasn’t the best day, of course, but you decided to dress up a little just so you could feel better—something you did when you felt down, despite not having a reason to dress up. You had to keep yourself occupied, especially when you could hear the cabinets opening and closing in the kitchen, which only made you hyper aware of how Heeseung was so close to you, yet so far away.

Were you making a big thing out of this?

You shook your head, grabbing your favourite cherry gloss and applying it over your lips, the lips that kissed Heeseung last night. It was hard not to stare at your lips in the mirror after that, you simply got zoned out yet again.

You’ve had enough of this, you sighed as you grabbed your phone, getting comfy on your bed yet again as you finally unlocked it, scrolling through the notifications to find something you didn’t expect.

26 missed calls from Heeseung.

Did this mean that he was actually worried? Maybe he had something to say? Maybe he wanted to tell you that he didn’t wish to talk to you anymore? Or maybe he simply wanted to confront you about it?

You were contemplating as you stared at the notifications, almost getting up to ask Heeseung about it, but then another ping of your phone stopped you right before you could go on outside.

Gyu 🐰: I’m here!!

Gyu 🐰: Do I ring the bell or will that be disturbing?

Fuck.

You had called Beomgyu in for the day, the past few events lingered so hard in your mind that this fully skipped your mind. And he was outside already, which means if he rings the bell then Heeseung would probably be the one to answer the door.

“Oh no,” you stood up, almost tripping on your feet as you heard the bell ring.

The door was open by the time you opened the door to your room, only to find Beomgyu and Heeseung right in front of each other.

“—I didn’t know you lived here,” Beomgyu said, patting Heeseung’s shoulder as you observed them carefully.

Heeseung had his jaw clenched, his eyes on the flower bouquet that Gyu had oh so conveniently bought for you. That’s exactly when Gyu spotted you, waving at you and saying your name in a cheerful tone, that made Heeseung turn to look at you.

Only to find you dressed up, as if you got ready for Beomgyu, a scoff leaving his mouth which you missed as you stared at each other for a few seconds, not sure what to say.

That’s when you simply grabbed Gyu’s arm and dragged him to your room, closing the door behind you as he simply let you do everything with a whipped smile on his face.

“Oh so we’re moving fast today, hm? You look so fucking pretty by the way—” he started blabbering, making himself feel comfortable on your bed.

“Shh,” you groaned, “stop please,” you whispered, and that’s when he realized that you were being serious.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He asked, concern evident on his face.

“A lot,” you said, grabbing his arm and making him face you, “are you ready for some gossip, Gyu?”

You didn’t give him a chance to reply, telling him everything from the very start as his eyes widened. He let out a scream or two in between which definitely hurt your ears, and you were hiding your face by the time you reached the part where you kissed Heeseung.

“I’m so jealous right now,” Gyu said out loud and you only gave him a look before continuing, leaving the majority of the part where you touched yourself, but also including the fact that you’ve been sexually frustrated.

“So that’s what happened,” you said, gulping down and looking up at him.

He only blinked, once and then twice.

“So what I’m gathering here is the fact that Heeseung likes you and you, very sadly, like him back. Not to mention how you’re itching to have him fuck you,” he said, counting god knows what on his fingers, “bro really fucked a random girl after being hopelessly in love with you to prove his point, goddamn,” he whispered under his breath.

“Oh shut up,” you mumbled, pouting at the reminder, “he doesn’t love me.”

“Are you blind? He chased me away each time I tried to approach you,” he said, eyes wide as he tried to tell you how wrong you were, your heart beating faster all of a sudden.

“I’m gonna kill myself actually.” A groan left your mouth as you covered your face, “I’m so embarrassed, so confused.”

“You know what? You should fuck me to even things out with him,” Gyu said in the most innocent voice ever and you looked up at him yet again.

“Gyu.”

“Yes?”

“Shut up.”

“Okay.”

He only chuckled, coming closer to you with a mischievous smile, “oh so you wanna fuck Heeseung, hm? Not me? Only Heeseung? Wow, you’re so down bad,” he teased you and you somehow tried to push him away but he only got louder.

“I’m gonna kill you,” you mumbled as he went on singing something.

“Heeseung and Y/N sitting under a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g,” He screamed.

That’s when you got up and started tickling his sides, to which he had an explosive reaction as he fully let out a whine like the subbiest-sub ever, moaning out your name shamelessly as you hit his chest, asking him to shut up and lower his voice.

But that didn’t stop him from whining again when your fingers accidentally touched the sliver of his tummy, making him giggle like a kid right after, “please—go slow,” he cried out.

You stopped, looking at him being completely helpless and pouting, which was enough to get a giggle out of you, “oh lord,” you mumbled, shaking your head at his endless antics.

It certainly did help how he was there to listen to you, and of course, how he randomly suggested playing a game right after he was done whining.

However, what you didn’t know was that Lee Heeseung had his ear pressed against your door, his timing ever so convenient as he managed to hear whines and groans reverberating your room, that being his last straw as he stomped away, back into his room to possibly throw a vase away or two, but he simply resorted to punching the wall a few times, his blood boiling at the imaginary image of you being intimate with Beomgyu of all people.

He sighed, punching the wall again, leaning his head against it right after, “this can’t be happening,” he mumbled, getting away and dramatically falling down on his bed with a face that screamed upset.

Heeseung felt like his life was ruined.

Beomgyu was living his best life teasing you.

You felt as if your life was a game as you sat down to play a board game with Gyu.

It was kind of funny how you were playing the game of life.

It was even funnier when Gyu added a blue peg to your car after you got married at the church and named the peg Heeseung.

It wasn’t funny that Heeseung had yet again tried to eavesdrop by standing in front of your room, only to hear you and Gyu laughing about something, a clear reminder that he made you laugh, that you enjoyed your time with him.

Heeseung stared at the door as if he couldn’t believe this.

He had to do something.

Chapter 9. The thin line between hate and love.

It was dark outside by the time Gyu left your apartment, peacefully so, as there was no sight of Heeseung when you got out of your room and it gave you enough time to clean up and take yet another shower, getting comfy in your shorts again.

You weren’t sure what was in your mind anymore, while it was a given that you appreciated the distraction Beomgyu provided you with, you were also confused about everything that’s been happening lately, and even if you did hate confrontations, you wanted to confront Heeseung about this.

However, it was nearing midnight by the time you realized exactly how hungry you are, munching on snacks did not help you much through the day and you didn’t have much energy to go and cook something for yourself.

So, you opted for home delivery from one of your comfort food restaurants, happy about the fact that they were quick to deliver your meal, even if it was late at night. You paid the delivery man and headed straight to the kitchen to grab a plate and fork.

“Hungry, hm?” A deep voice spoke right beside your ear, alarming you as you turned around to look at Heeseung, who didn’t have a hint of a smile on his face, which was an unusual sight as he was always sporting at least a little grin if not more.

“Hee—” you gulped.

“—yeah?” He asked, his warm fingertips resting on your chin as he made you look up at him, “look at me.”

You still couldn’t look in his eyes.

He scoffed, “you’re funny honestly, one second you’re kissing me as if your life depends on it, and the next second you’re fucking another guy,” he said, clicking his tongue before he poked his inner cheek with it.

You didn’t expect this to happen, and you most certainly weren’t expecting Heeseung to be mad about it. Did he interpret it wrong? You didn’t fuck Beomgyu, but that’s exactly what Heeseung thinks it is that you did the whole day, the whines probably didn’t help, and it was no secret that Gyu was loud in everything he did.

Heeseung had you caged in his arms again, something he had done quite a few times after he shifted into your apartment, but the proximity never failed to faze you, his scent was as intoxicating as ever, and but at least he had decency to wear a loose fitted t-shirt this time.

You were zoning out again, but at the same time you were focused on his lips and how bruised they looked, as if he had been biting them out of frustration all day—the same lips you had so desperately kissed just yesterday, the same lips who had taken over your senses. They were so close to you again.

“Why do you care?” You asked, something you’ve been meaning to ask for a while, your face devoid of emotions.

“What?” He asked, taken aback by the sudden irritation that your voice now held.

“Why the fuck do you care, Lee Heeseung? Isn’t this just a game to you, hm? Isn’t that what you’ve been doing all along?” You pointed your finger at him.

It had started to rain outside, the downpour making the atmosphere seem darker than usual, you weren’t the biggest fan of rain, and the situation only made it worse.

“Why the fuck do you not understand?” He groaned, his arms on either side of you now as he took a shaky breath in, looking aside for a second as if trying to control his emotions from bursting out, “you think it’s a fucking game to me?”

“What else?” You scoffed, you needed him to say whatever was on his mind, you needed to rile him to the point he couldn’t help but tell you exactly what was going on, “is it not a game that you sabotage every time someone tries to approach me? Or when you keep bothering me with your constant attempt to pick fights? So why’s it a problem that I called Gyu here—”

“—don’t call him that.”

“Why not? Don’t like it? It’s so cute—”

Heeseung scoffed, “did he fuck you that good?” He asked, his blood practically boiling by now.

You bit your bottom lip, smirking right after, “better than the girl you fucked, seeing how she didn’t come back for more.”

“Yeah, princess. That’s why you wish you were her, right? You watched me fuck her with wide eyes, you gulped your drool down when you saw my dick thrusting into her cunt—you wanted it to be yours, I saw the jealousy in your eyes, baby. You can’t lie to me,” he whispered, his lips caressing yours.

“Or, you’re jealous cause it wasn’t you who fucked me. Isn’t that what you wanted? Isn’t that why you were moaning my fucking name?” You asked, your head tilted slightly to provoke him even more.

“Yeah,” he breathed out, making you look up at him in confusion as you saw him being dead serious about what he was saying, his eyes dark, “Yes I’m jealous, I fucking hate it, cause you’re mine.”

“What?” You were taken aback.

“Why? What’s so surprising, princess?” He chuckled, and you swore the butterflies you felt in your body were going feral, “you’re mine, are you not?” He asked in a whisper.

The indirect confession hung in the air, the sound of your breathing along with the heavy raindrops was loud, but not louder than your own thoughts. You couldn’t believe this was happening, it’s you who pushed him to confess, but it wasn’t something you had expected.

There was nothing but sincerity in the way he stared at you, waiting for some kind of reply, and suddenly you were back in fifth grade, trying to make sense of your feelings for the same guy who stood in front of you, your lips parting to say something, but it was hard for you to form words.

He had you trapped, mentally and physically. Did you belong to him? Did he belong to you? Did you wish to see him with someone else again? The thought was enough to make your blood boil. Did you want him to fuck anyone who wasn’t you—

“Are you fucking mine or not, Y/N—?” He asked and you didn’t let him speak anymore, grabbing him by his shirt as you surged forward in a rush to capture his rosy lips to yours.

His body reacted just as quick to kiss you back harder, his warm hand gripping your nape to keep you in place, your familiar taste simply had him groaning into your mouth, invading all your senses as you got dizzier in the essence of him, holding on to him tighter as you let yourself go as he sucked on your lips harsh enough for it to be swollen.

“Mine,” he murmured against your lips, voice deeper than ever as he squeezed your waist, a gasp leaving your mouth, “be good for me, hm?” He said, helping you sit on the kitchen counter right behind you.

He holds on to your leg, wrapping them around his waist as you pull your body even closer before he kisses you harder, even deeper, making sure that there’s absolutely no space left in between you—he needs to be close to you. Your clothed cunt pressed against him in a way that created the slightest amount of friction as you bucked your hips up in a rush.

He gladly swallowed all your whines, anger bubbling up about the fact that other people have gotten a chance to hear your pretty noises before him, but not anymore, cause you belonged to Lee Heeseung.

He was being rough the way he shoved his tongue into your mouth, hungry to taste you again and again, simply because it was impossible for him to get enough of you, your hands roaming all over his body to trace the hard muscles you’ve been feeling up, hidden underneath his T-shirt, the tension lingering, the agitation increasing. You wanted more, you needed more.

“Say you want it,” he whispered, his forehead pressed against yours as you both took deep breaths, practically breathing each other in, his thumb prodding at your mouth as you swirled your tongue around it, making him groan and push his two digits into your mouth, watching how you suck on them so diligently, a whine leaving your mouth as he pulled the fingers back, depriving you of them, “say it.”

“What if I don’t?” You clicked your tongue, pushing him back slightly with a smirk on your face, “won’t you touch me then?” You asked, looking at him innocently as you got off the counter, you could feel your panties being wet, walking to him, taking a step further to whisper in his ear, “won’t you fuck me?” You asked, biting his earlobe right after as you heard him suck in a sharp breath.

With that, you leaned back, walking back to your room as Heeseung stood there for a minute, trying his best to stay in control with his semi hard dick getting in the way, you being a brat wasn’t helping him by any means. A groan left his mouth as he followed you into your room, to find you waiting for him on your bed, sitting comfortably.

“Were you this much of a brat with Beomgyu too?” He asked, the question itself had him frowning as you chuckled and shook your head no slowly, “ah—no.”

He rolled his eyes, jaw clenched as he lifted his T-shirt up, messing up his hair even more as he threw it away somewhere on the floor, “you’re a spoiled little princess, aren’t you? Don’t worry, love, I’ll make sure you beg for me.”

You raised your brows, your eyes travelling down to stare at his body shamelessly, your bottom lip bitten as he walked over and climbed on the bed in a way that excited your body to the point that one touch from him would be enough to give you goosebumps.

“You look cute when you’re jealous, y’know?” You cooed right as he got close to you.

He didn’t waste any second, pulling your body to him easily so you were sitting right on his lap, his back pressed against the headboard, hands resting on your ass, rubbing gentle circles on it with his thumb as he looked down his nose caressing yours in a touch that made your eyelids flutter shut.

“Yeah, doll? Let’s see how cute I look when I don’t let you cum, hm?”

“What?”

“What? Pretty baby wants to cum?” Heeseung teased, his hand inching upwards in a manner that pushed your t-shirt up just enough so his hand could squeeze your waist, his fingers tracing your skin smoothly.

You couldn’t focus, not when he knew exactly how to invade all your senses. You liked the game of push and pull, but with how things have been, you knew you wouldn’t last much longer, not when having Heeseung control your body, touching and guiding you, felt so good. It wasn’t as if he knew what made you feel good, yet he was discovering how to make you gasp out of pleasure with ease.

Your hand on his bare skin only made the atmosphere seem hotter than it actually was. You simply nodded as a reply to his question—you needed to cum.

“Can’t even use your words now, princess? What happened to your bratty attitude?” Heeseung chuckled against your skin, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses down your jawline, your body reacting to it almost instantly as you threw your head back, giving him more space to kiss you down your neck.

You needed to do something, so you lifted your hips slightly, only to sit right on top of his hardened cock, making him groan out against your skin, almost biting your neck which had you whining out loud, your fingers tugging on his hair—something that you had learned would drive him crazy.

“Can’t control yourself, Lee?” You breathed out as a taunt, letting him bite your earlobe and practically growl out of frustration, licking and swirling his warm tongue on the expanse of your skin again, making you shiver and press down on his cock even more.

“So fucking needy,” he rasped out, fingers playing with the hem of your shorts now, which was easy with how your legs were spread as you sat on his lap, making you hide your face in his neck, warmth spreading all over your body.

“Please—fuck!” You cried out, biting on his shoulder as he gently caressed your clothed cunt, making him chuckle even more.

“Please what, princess?” He urged you to speak, even though your voice came out muffled as you pressed your face to his neck, the vibrations of your words making it hard for him to function.

“Want you,” you finally spoke up.

“Yeah? Who do you belong to, doll?” He cups your cunt, just to see how your body would react.

You moaned, hips bucking to get more friction but he only pressed your cunt harder, possessiveness lacing every single one of his touches.

“You.” Saying it out loud was the only way you could stop the teasing.

However, you couldn’t deny how you felt butterflies when he finally repeated after you, “that’s right, you’re my pretty little doll. All mine.”

You nodded meekly, letting him take control of your body as you squirmed under his hold. Heeseung knew he had won as he easily turned you over to help you lay on your back, getting on top of you with ease, staring at you, his chocolate brown eyes sporting a lust filled expression, “I’ll take care of you now.”

He dipped down to pepper kisses over the expanse of your skin, having had enough of your body being fully clothed, he asked if he could take your T-shirt off you and you lazily nodded, watching the most attractive man you’ve ever laid eyes on helping you out of your shirt, scoffing once he learned that you weren’t wearing a bra.

Suddenly, you were hyper aware of his gaze on your body, your hands working quick to cover your tits with embarrassment flooding your cheeks. However, he was still quicker to grab your wrists, pinning them above your head in a swift go.

“Never hide your pretty body from me ever again, it’s mine to worship, yeah?” He whispered, his hot breath nuzzling against your lips as you nodded along with him, as if in a trance.

Your chest heaved up and down with the bubbling excitement in you, your thighs pressed up against each other as the wetness seeped through your panties, soiling your shorts as well.

Heeseung smirked, “such a good girl when you listen to me,” he praised, eliciting a whine out of you. You never knew a praise would be enough to give you goosebumps.

The tip of his nose grazed your skin as he stopped right on your throat, licking your sensitive spot with his warm tongue, your back arching as you obliviously gave him more space to kiss and suck on your clavicle as he grinds against you, and you love how he overpowers you.

Your breath hitches the second his lips reach your torso, right above your left boob, and you’re almost sure he can hear your heart beating out of your ribcage with how much his presence affects you, and he simply looks up at you to press the most daunting yet soothing kiss right above your heart, as if he was trying to get the fact across that it belonged to him now.

You couldn’t look away, gaze peering down as he covered your nipple with his puckered lips, your moans encouraging him even further as he shamelessly sucked your tits, setting your wrists free to fondle your other tit, squeezing it harshly to see your expression contort into that of pain, but it was full of pleasure instead.

His thumb played with your nipples, rubbing circles on it gently to get them hard, only to pinch them right after, covering them with his mouth right after to soothe the pain—something you didn’t think you’d find pleasing but you did, especially when you squirmed around and he held you in place with ease.

Grazing your tits with his teeth had you whimpering, holding on to his arm, digging your nails as you held on to him tight.

“You like that, baby?” He smirked, hand sneaking down into your panties, your eyes rolling back at the slightest touch of his fingers against your sensitive slit, which was wet with your arousal.

“Taste how wet you get for me, princess,” he muttered, proud of how his two digits were covered with your slick, glistening under the warm, dim lights of your room.

You parted your lips, pushing your tongue out to let him rest the two of his fingers there as you took him in, swirling your tongue around his slender fingers coated in your wetness. A hum left your mouth at the same time as Heeseung groaned at the sight of you being a sweet little doll for him, doing whatever he says.

He couldn’t be gentle anymore, he had to taste you.

“Good girl,” he praised, brushing his thumb on your bottom lip before coating your tits with your saliva, circling your nipples as he placed open mouthed kisses as a trail down your torso, trying his best not to leave any area untouched.

You mindlessly chanted his name, moaning out in desperation as he got closer to your cunt, looking at you once. He appeared to be a hungry beast, the one who wouldn’t stop once he gets a taste of your cunt—the cunt he’s been dreaming about for so long.

He made you feel the things you hadn’t ever felt before, sending shivers up your spine with each touch of his. However, he was done being slow with you. As much as he loved to give your tits his undivided attention, he couldn’t leave your desperate little cunt unattended.

Your shorts were off in a swift go, leaving you almost bare with your panties on, his eyes darkening as he let lust cloud his mind. Holding your thighs open, he made himself comfortable in between them, mumbling about how every inch of you is perfect to him, your toes curling his breath got heavier.

He pressed an experimental kiss on your inner thigh, squeezing them once he heard your body react to it, a sweet little whimper leaving your swollen lips in the process. You grab a chunk of his hair, pulling on them and crying when he pushed your knees up, biting and sucking on your soft flesh of thigh as a promise that it’ll leave bruise marks.

His marks all over your body, he needed to mark you up, not even bothering to hide his possessiveness as he mumbled mine under his breath, continuing his ministrations, stopping right in front of your soiled panties, taking a deep breath.

“Oh princess, you smell so sweet for me,” he said, grabbing the thin fabric of your underwear, pulling them to the side, wrinkling them up without any care.

You propped yourself up slightly, the sight of Heeseung staring at your cunt as if he’s found treasure which he wishes to devour carnally wasn’t something you had ever thought you’d witness, but here he was, breathing deeply inches away from your cunt, purposely blowing hot breath on your soaked core, trying to agitate you further.

“Heeseung—fuck! Please,” you groaned, urging him to get closer, to be where you need him the most.

“Yes, princess?” He asked breathily, dark eyes still fixated on your pussy as he whispered, “pretty.”

“Please,” you begged feebly.

“Please what, love?”

You couldn’t help it anymore, pushing his head into your bucked hips was the easy way to get things going, tugging on his silky roots as you held him in place, a loud moan reverberated the room just as he groaned into your cunt, your eyes fluttering shut at the heavenly sensation you felt all over your body.

“Fuck, I’ve wanted this from so long,” Heeseung mumbled like a madman, absolutely letting himself go, not holding back as he devoured your cunt, licking and sucking on your folds, commanding your body well as he held your legs open with his strong grip on your thighs.

Peppering featherlight kisses on your clit, he made you sigh breathily, his name on the tip of your tongue as you kept on whining, even more so when he shoved his face deeper, sucking on your sensitive nub as the warmth of his fingers traced the long strokes on your folds.

“Love—your—cunt,” he groaned with each lick, pulling you into him, easing your thighs on his sturdy shoulders as he slipped his tongue into your clenching hole, “all mine now, all fucking mine.”

His lips were covered with your arousal, his thumb taking over to rub circles on your clit, sending your over the edge as you tried to get a hold of yourself, but it felt good—the best you’d ever felt, and you could already feel your eyes rolling to the back of your head as he added more pressure to your poor clit.

Your legs shook around his head, your cunt clenching as he continued to fuck his tongue deeper and deeper, as much as he could humanly manage. He could have sworn he was drunk, too pussy drunk to even move from there. He was the reason you were this wet, he got you wet, he needed to take care of your cunt and be accountable for the same.

With his movements getting harsher, it only took a moment longer before you found yourself reaching your high, whines leaving your mouth as you fell apart on his tongue, giving him exactly what he had been so eagerly trying to get out of you.

Your cum covered the expanse of his skin—lips and chin shining as he licked big stripes of your now overly-sensitive cunt just to make sure he laps up every bit of the juice you so lovingly gave to him, “so fucking beautiful,” he kissed your clit again.

You took deep breaths, eyes still closed as you savored the moment, Heeseung staring at you with shiny eyes, trying to memorize every bit of your expressions. You looked like an angel to him, a sweet doll who was made to be kept safe with him. He wanted to keep you safe.

The sight was orgasmic, Heeseung’s raging boner would agree with it, however he wasn’t done having a taste of you, he was greedy by all means, almost as if he got addicted to your taste within seconds, he wanted to taste you again, and again.

Before you could even register what was going on, Heeseung grabbed your panties from the hem, ripping them into two instead of simply sliding them down your legs, your eyes widening at the sight of your now torn underwear.

He doesn’t give you much chance to say anything, his lips latched to your sensitive cunt in an instant, your response of moans almost pavlovian, even more so when his digits prodded your entrance. He buried two fingers at once, deep down to the knuckles, loving how you clenched around him uncontrollably, your lewd noises almost pornographic as he continued his ministrations.

The tip of his nose brushed your clit in the right way, his fingers curling inside you at the same time just for you to try and close your thighs out of sheer pleasure, which overstimulated you, but he was stronger as he held your legs open.

Heeseung didn’t feel sober by any means, he knew he wouldn’t last much longer either, especially with how he’s absolutely drunk on the essence of your cunt and the melody of your moans. Pressing his clothes cock harder on the mattress, he sped up, fingering you with no resistance, your wetness being the perfect lubricant for him.

“Doing so well for me, such a good slut for me,” he groaned against your cunt.

You jolted out of pleasure, his pace and words left your pussy tightening as a signal that your second orgasm was approaching faster than ever, which only encouraged him to eat you out faster, shoving another finger into you as his dick twitched with unadulterated pleasure.

Heeseung’s name was all you knew as you rode out your orgasm with desperation, tears cascading down your cheek and you swore you saw stars with how hard you came undone, watching him lick you up before he got up, getting rid of his pants and boxers in one go.

You could only breathe deeply, eyes shamelessly taking in his hardened cock, the tip red and leaking with how much he’d held back all this while. You clumsily tried to get up, your legs still shaking as you sat up, “can I—” you tried to ask, embarrassed.

“Hm, can you what, princess?” He asked, looking extremely attractive with his hair all over the place, lips cherry red and swollen, still glistening with the remains of your cum all over.

“Wanna taste you,” your voice was barely a notch above whisper.

“Oh—fuck. You’re such a pretty little slut for me,” he chuckled with amusement, “yeah? Is that what my doll wants? Want my cock in your sweet little mouth?” He asked, standing right in front of your mouth.

You nodded, your eyes big and pleading which only had him twitching, even more so when you gently grabbed the base of his cock, placing the faintest kiss on his tip, “a slut for you, yeah,” you mumbled, peppering kisses all over his length as he bit his lip at the sight, adam’s apple bobbing up and down when he gulped.

With your tongue swirling around the tip, you finally took him in the warmth of your mouth, a loud moan escaping his lips once he saw you with your cheeks hollowed, sucking him in so desperately, your hands massaging his balls simultaneously. He grips the back of your head, holding you in place as you sucked harshly on the tip of his dick, his body shuddering with immense pleasure.

He was already leaking when he tasted you, but having you on your knees for him, looking up with tears in your eyes as you drooled and whined, sending vibrations up his cock, that was it for him, but you didn’t let him move back, feeling the warm clawing of his orgasm on your tongue as you let him finish inside your mouth.

He had beads of sweat forming on his forehead by the time he finished, taking deep breaths but still staring at you, eyes full of adoration as you took his cock out of your mouth with a pop.

“You okay, love?” He asked, sitting down next to you, caressing the curve of your cheek gently.

You let him sit down next to you, and he did not expect you to open your mouth to show your tongue after you gulped down his cum.

“Fuck, oh fuck,” he groaned, chuckling right after and cupping your jaw, “we’re so not done here, princess,” he said and your eyes widened.

“W—what?” You asked, breathing in deeply when he pressed a firm kiss on your lips, not moving back as he spoke.

“You really thought I’d let you go without fucking that pretty cunt of yours, hm?”

“Heeseung—It’s so sensitive right now,” you whispered, holding on to his arm.

“Shh, you can take it, right?”

His tone was enticing, the proximity paired with the intoxication Heeseung so eagerly provided had you nodding at his words. No guy had ever made you cum more than once and here Heeseung was, on his way to give you your third orgasm of the night.

“Yeah,” you whispered.

“Yeah?” He asked, tone breathy.

“Yeah, please,” you replied, and he chuckled, pulling you into another rushed kiss, slotting his lips against yours.

His kisses got harsher as he pushed you down on the bed again, holding you underneath him, your body reacting to him in an instant as you spread your legs further when he pushed his thigh up, pressing it on your cunt.

You moaned into his mouth, he swallowed every bit of it, almost greedy as if he didn’t want anyone else to even hear how pretty you sound. It was just for him, you were made for him.

“Ready, baby?” Heeseung asked, rubbing the tip of his cock against your pussy, the wetness lubricating his length as he stroked himself a few times, looking back at you when you nodded, “are you sure?”

“Hm—yeah. Are you?” You asked back.

“Never been more ready for anything, princess,” he whispered, dipping down to press his lips against yours.

He wastes zero time, both your eyes fluttering shut in ecstasy as he pushed himself into your needy hole, your back arching as you both shifted to be closer to each other, the stretch of his thickness was almost delicious and you couldn’t help but dig your nails on his back, trying to get a hold of yourself.

Heeseung moans out loud without any care, the way your walls gripped his bulbous size, “fucking hell you feel so good,” he cursed out loud.

Bottoming out was easy with how aroused you were, your wetness making him slide in deeper than any cock you’ve ever taken before. It felt straight out of a wet dream how Heeseung looked at you with hooded eyes, a smirk forming on his face at your obvious pleasure filled expression.

“You see this, princess?” He pulled back, thrusting in harder as you mewled, his hand coming to rest right on top of your abdomen, pressing down right there just enough so he could feel his cock bulge, “told you it’d reach right here.” He chuckled.

“You’re crazy,” you cried out, “so fucking b—big.”

“And you love it,” he hisses as you clench up around him, moaning and agreeing with whatever your pretty boy had to say.

Ramming into your hole made your tits bounce with each hard thrust of his, tempting him enough to reach forward to capture your nipple between his lips, sucking on them with no gentleness.

You tug on his hair, something that you knew would drive him insane. He practically growled, biting your nipple and sucking on it, littering marks all around your chest all while pistoning into you.

“Mine, you’re fucking mine,” he mumbled, the sound of skin slapping resonating the room, which was the prettiest sound Heeseung had ever heard, simply because it was a harmony of you and him, adding your whines and moans to the mix only made it better.

“God—Heeseung,” you struggled to breathe, now gripping your sheets as he abused your pussy, almost demonic in a way—something you really needed to satiate your desires, which Heeseung was fulfilling oh so beautifully.

Just when you thought it wouldn’t get any better, Heeseung pushed two of his fingers right on your sensitive bundle of nerves, working them in circles as if he was a professional and you couldn’t keep your eyes open anymore.

“Did I say you were allowed to look away?” Heeseung asked, coming closer to your face, however you could barely form a reply, which had him scoffing and stopping his actions, finally getting a cry out of you as you looked at him.

“That’s a good doll, keep your eyes on me, yeah?” He whispered, sinking in impossibly deeper as you let your tears out, which turned him on even more than he thought was possible, “love how wet you get for me, shit—you feel so fucking good for me,” he said, dragging his tongue up your cheek, gathering your salty tears and licking them up.

You loved every second of this, his hand coming to slap your ass, grabbing a fistful of it to grope you harder while you absolutely let yourself submit to him, his dirty words only making you clench harder, your skin burning with the traces of his touch all over.

You felt like you were being split open as he rambled about how good you felt, it was addicting how your name rolled off his tongue in a possessive moan as he fucked you with pure need, also kissing you from time to time, his forehead pressed against yours as he stimulated your clit faster.

The room felt misty almost, but that was just the essence of you both being ever so desperate with each other, like your friends had always said—you needed to fuck it out.

And Heeseung was doing a splendid job at it, your legs twitching at this point with how sensitive your body was, body too fucked out, words not making any sense minus the few weak moans of Heeseung’s name.

You were so turned on, you didn’t want this to end but it was beyond impossible for you to hold yourself any longer, “gonna—gonna cum, please,” you begged, grabbing his face and pulling him into a kiss as he grunted out.

“Yeah, kitten? Gonna cum for me? Do it, baby,” he whispered.

His strong arms held you in place, pushing himself deep in your pulsing pussy as if you were a toy to him, but his kisses said otherwise, they were full of longing and endless desire, and he never wished to stop.

With a deep breath, you pulsated around him, leaking around his size with each aggressive pounding he gave you, and before you knew it, you were squirting all over his cock, ruining your bedsheets and surprising Heeseung who only rubbed your clit harder.

“Fuck—you’re so hot,” he groaned, a final thrust shooting his load of cum inside your cunt, staying right there as you both breathed the same air, taking a few minutes to lay side by side when he pulled out, the mixture of your cum dripping down your cunt.

Heeseung still held on to you, his arms wrapping your body close to him, patting your back gently, “you okay, love? You did so well for me,” he mumbled, kissing your forehead.

A newfound warmth spread your body as you witnessed Heeseung being genuinely sweet to you, a small smile caressing your face as you nodded, snuggling close to him and he let you do that, whispering praises in your ear, making you laugh and laughing along with you.

He knew you both couldn’t sleep on your bed for the night, so he asked you if you wished to sleep with him, and it somehow left you shy as you said yes. Getting up was hard when your legs felt wobbly, but Heeseung was strong enough to help you up and go to the washroom with you.

You both were silent as he helped you sit on the marble counter of the washbasin, grabbing your towel and dampening it with lukewarm water, you simply observed him being absolutely concentrated, devoted almost with how he cleaned you up, a pout forming on his lips as he did so.

It was endearing how soft he was all of a sudden, and you needed him to speak up and talk about everything that’s been happening with you both, the mixed signals, the teasing, the jealousy, and of course, the intimate moment you just shared, it needs to be discussed.

You stayed mum, observing him till he was satisfied cleaning you, asking if you felt okay, comfortable with him. Nodding with a little smile was enough of an answer for him, as he made sure to dress you up in the comfiest oversized t-shirt he owned, and soon you were both getting comfortable under his blanket.

That’s when you decided to finally talk to him about the whole situation.

“So—” you started, slight awkwardness in your voice as Heeseung turned to look at you, his face practically shining.

“Uh—why did you like—hate me? Or did whatever you did to—”

“Woah woah, calm down, baby,” he said, clearly noticing the panic in your voice.

You were never the one to confront.

“I never hated you, how could I? You just ignored me from the fifth grade and I didn’t know what to do—” he paused, as if ashamed of himself in a way.

“You hated me, Heeseung,” you said, eyes widening at the accusation.

“Me?”

“Yeah, don’t you remember?”

“No,” he dragged, as if trying to think of where it went wrong.

You sat up straighter, wincing slightly due to the obvious soreness between your legs, looking at him, “wow, you really don’t know?”

Heeseung looked lost as ever.

“Fifth grade, the house party? The so-called biggest party of the year? You don’t remember playing truth and dare?” You asked, looking up at him with big eyes which he found so adorable.

“Oh, yeah. That’s the party we went to but then you started ignoring me after it,” Heeseung spoke, wondering what went wrong.

“God, you really are so clueless. We all went together, you and our group, we never really talked much but—but I had a little crush on you—hey! Don’t smirk, so yeah,” you continued and he chuckled.

What you didn’t know was that he was feeling all sorts of giddy deep inside. You liked him? You? The girl he’s always wanted, liked him back?

“You were asked this question in front of every single person we knew,” you said, a sad pout on your face, “to name someone you’d be willing to kiss in that room.”

Heeseung finally understood where you were heading but you didn’t let him interrupt, resting your finger on his lips.

“You know what you said?”

“I didn’t mean it that way—”

“Do you really remember what you said?” Your voice was louder now, a genuine look of disbelief on your face, “you said you’d kiss anyone in that room but me.”

There was haunting silence as you finished your sentence, you tried to sit up, only for your legs to give out as you fell directly into Heeseung’s arms. This shut you up in a second before you gulped and folded your arms, face heating up regardless of the whole situation, which almost felt comical at this point.

Then you started whining and complaining about how humiliating the situation was, a clear sign that Heeseung absolutely hated her and how she had to run away from the party with a heavy heart feeling hurt, as her crush had practically rejected her.

In front of everyone at that.

“Listen to me,” he said, voice deep and eyes earnest as he grabbed your arms, making sure your whole attention was on him.

“You never used to look at me, even then. Whenever I tried to, someone would get in between us. That day—I truly wanted to ask you out.”

“What?”

“Yeah, I do think I said it the wrong way. I knew you hadn’t had your first kiss,” he said, looking elsewhere for a second, “and I knew if I took your name then they’d make me kiss you as the dare right after. I didn’t want our first kiss to be like that, in front of everyone, as a dare.”

“You cannot be serious,” you muttered in complete amusement.

“But you ran out of the party and stopped talking to me altogether so I had to resort to other ways—”

“Like pranking and bothering me?”

“—well, it did help me get your attention, didn’t it?” He smirked, and you scoffed.

“You’re such a duffer, Lee Heeseung,” you chuckled, still not over the fact that all of this hatred, jealousy, pranks, and well, weird but angry arguments, were all based on what?

A misunderstanding.

You both stared at each other for a few seconds before bursting into laughter, him pulling you close as you felt his chest vibrate, chuckling over this ridiculously stupid misunderstanding.

“So, you’ve liked me all along, huh?” He teased, and you pushed him away with a chuckle, mustering a stoic expression.

“Don’t even start, Lee Heeseung. You have been bothering me because you liked me but didn’t have the balls to say it!” You laughed and he looked offended.

“Excuse me?” He raised his eyebrow, tickling you all over with a smile as you squirmed, laughing uncontrollably before hitting on his arm a few times.

“Wait—wait! I have to tell you something,” you said, trying to sit up again.

“Yeah, princess?” He whispered.

“So, about what happened—”

“God, you look so pretty,” Heeseung said out of nowhere, staring at you with heart eyes, making you smile shyly.

If the past you would look at yourself, you’d probably end up throwing up with how cheesy it looked, yet right now, in the moment, everything felt right with Heeseung.

“Anyway.” You shook your head before looking at him sheepishly, “remember when Beomgyu came home right?”

Heeseung frowned at the mention of his name.

“We—didn’t have sex,” You let out.

“What?” He practically exclaimed, “he didn’t touch you? You didn’t do anything? But I heard—”

“Yeah he was bothering me so I tickled him and he moaned—but wait, you were listening to us? Eavesdropping?” You asked, “oh you were that jealous? Couldn’t help but listen pathetically from behind the closed doors—”

He shut you up by kissing you again, not stopping as you pulled him closer with a smile.

“You’re crazy,” Heeseung breathed out and you knew he meant it in a good way.

“And you’re mine,” you smiled, gently rubbing your nose against his.

“So fucking yours.” He mirrored your expression, pulling you in for a sweet kiss.

At that moment, you truly felt happy.

And that’s all that mattered.

Chapter 10: I saw it coming.

It’s baffling.

Transitioning from your so-called enemies to future potential lovers. The bickering is still there, however, now it results in a passionate makeout session and more.

Apparently Heeseung was hellbent on fucking you in every corner of your house, till everyone came back that is. He wouldn’t even sleep in separate rooms, sticking by your side as if his life depended on it, even offering to shower with you saying—“it saves water” only for him to fuck you in there.

It was surprising each time Heeseung acted cheesy in front of you, making food for you, only to feed you with his own hands. He, the one who acted all tough and nonchalant in front of others, was the same guy who begged you for cuddles, head pats, kisses.

You had never thought he would ever be willing to sit down and watch Barbie movies with you but yet again, he proved you wrong. He was so loving, as if it came naturally to him, which was a surprise given he never had a girlfriend before.

He had the biggest pout on his face as you laughed with your whole heart, holding the couple keychain Heeseung insisted you have. As cheesy as it got, you loved it, and he loved seeing you smile.

Especially when he was the one who made you smile.

“Does this mean we’re dating now?”

“W—what? Are we not?” Heeseung asked, slightly taken aback and you chuckled.

“Well, you didn’t ask me to be your girlfriend yet,” you mumbled.

“Oh, okay then let me do it right now,” he said, getting down on one knee with the keychain in his hand, “will you, Y/N, make me the happiest man alive and let me be your boyfriend?” He asked, with glittering eyes.

You rolled your eyes affectionately, “you’re so cute, Lee Heeseung, and yes, I allow you to be my boyfriend,” you smiled, pecking his lips softly.

However, being so engrossed in your own little world now, you both forgot something highly important that was going to happen today.

Your friends were literally standing outside the apartment, opening the door, as you and Heeseung casually sat on the couch, practically eating each other’s faces off.

Safe to say, the reaction was no less than explosive, especially the scream that left their mouths, a look of pure horror gracing their faces, your expression mirroring their own, as if you got caught doing something illegal.

Everyone was shocked, minus Sunghoon, who simply leaned against the door with his arms folded and a knowing smirk on his face.

“Told ya they’d be fucking by the time we come back.”

THANK YOU FOR READING!

permanent taglist: @jaeminvore @macaroonff @ajayke-reads @lunalovesstories @deobitifull

@celeste-hoon @mari-oclock @kpoprhia @ikeuizm @woniebae

@lalalalawon @blessedcursd @skzenhalove @heesuncore @seuomo

@kyurizeu @tobiosbbyghorl @jezzebear @jaehoonii @itsgivingitalian

@bunhoons @ma-riiii @addictedtohobi @heeliopheelia

@haanigurl @kaykay11sworld @glitterjay @skzooluvr

#fic : only if you say yes #enhypen hard hours #enhypen smut #heeseung smut #kpop smut #smut #heeseung x reader #heeseung x you #enha smut #heeseung fanfic

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caelum-in-the-avatarverse · 7 months ago

Text

Fandom can do a little gatekeeping. As a treat.

So I finally decided to archive-lock my fics on AO3 last night. I’ve been considering it since the AI scrape last year, but the tipping point was this whole lore.fm debacle, coupled with some thoughts I’ve been thinking regarding Fandom These Days in general and Fandom As A Community in particular. So I wanna explain why I waited so long, why I locked my stuff up now, and why I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m a-okay with making it harder for people to see my stories.

Lurkers really are great, tho

I’m a chronic lurker, and have been since I started hanging out on the internet as a teen in the 00s. These days it’s just cuz I don’t feel a need to socialize very often, but back then it was because I was shy and knew I was socially awkward. Even if I made an account, I’d spend months lurking on message boards or forums or Livejournals, watching other people interact and getting a feel for that particular community’s culture and etiquette before I finally started interacting myself. And y’know, that approach saved me a lot of embarrassment. Over the course of my lurking on any site, there was always some other person who’d clearly joined up five minutes after learning the place existed, barged in without a care for their behavior, and committed so many social faux pas that all the other users were immediately annoyed with them at best. I learned a lot observing those incidents. Lurk More is Rule 33 of the internet for very good reason.

Lurking isn’t bad or weird or creepy. It’s perfectly normal. I love lurking. It’s hard for me to not lurk - socializing takes a lot of energy out of me, even via text. (Heck it took 12 hours for me to write this post, I wish I was kidding--) Occasionally I’ll manage longer bouts of interaction - a few weeks posting here, almost a year chatting in a discord there - but I’m always gonna end up going radio silent for months at some point. I used to feel bad about it, but I’ve long since made peace with the fact that it’s just the way my brain works. I’m a chronic lurker, and in the long term nothing is going to change that.

The thing with being a chronic lurker is that you have to accept that you are not actually seen as part of the community you are lurking in. That’s not to say that lurkers are unimportant - lurkers actually are important, and they make up a large proportion of any online community - but it’s simple cause and effect. You may think of it as “your community”, but if you’ve never said a word, how is the community supposed to know you exist? If I lurked on someone’s LJ, and then that person suddenly friendslocked their blog, I knew that I had two choices: Either accept that I would never be able to read their posts again, or reach out to them and ask if I could be added to their friends list with the full understanding that I was a rando they might not decide to trust. I usually went with the first option, because my invisibility as a lurker was more important to me than talking to strangers on the internet.

Lurking is like sitting on a park bench, quietly people-watching and eavesdropping on the conversations other people are having around you. You’re in the park, but you’re not actively participating in anything happening there. You can see and hear things that you become very interested in! But if you don’t introduce yourself and become part of the conversation, you won’t be able to keep listening to it when those people walk away. When fandom migrated away from Livejournal, people moved to new platforms alongside their friends, but lurkers were often left behind. No one knew they existed, so they weren’t told where everyone else was going. To be seen as part of a fandom community, you need to submit to the mortifying ordeal of being known, etc. etc.

There’s nothing wrong with lurking. There can actually be benefits to lurking, both for the lurkers and the communities they lurk in. It’s just another way to be in a fandom. But if that is how you exist in fandom--and remember, I say this as someone who often does exist that way in fandom--you need to remember that you’re on the outside looking in, and the curtains can always close.

I’ve always been super sympathetic to lurkers, because I am one. I know there’s a lot of people like me who just don’t socialize often. I know there’s plenty of reasons why someone might not make an account on the internet - maybe they’re nervous, maybe they’re young and their parents don’t allow them to, maybe they’re in a bad situation where someone is monitoring their activity, maybe they can only access the internet from public computer terminals. Heck, I’ve never even logged into AO3 on my phone--if I’m away from my computer I just read what’s publicly available.

I know I have people lurking on my fics. I know my fics probably mean a lot to someone I don’t even know exists. I know this because there are plenty of fics I love whose writers don’t know I exist.

I love my commenters personally; I love my lurkers as an abstract concept. I know they’re there and I wish them well, and if they ever de-lurk I love them all the more.

So up until last year I never considered archive-locking my fic, because I get it. The AI scraping was upsetting, but I still hesitated because I was thinking of lurkers and guests and remembering what it felt like to be 15 and wondering if it’d be worth letting a stranger on the internet know I existed and asking to be added to their friends list just so I could reread a funny post they made once.

But the internet has changed a lot since the 00s, and fandom has changed with it. I’ve read some things and been doing some thinking about fandom-as-community over the last few years, and reading through the lore.fm drama made me decide that it’s time for me to set some boundaries.

I still love my lurkers, and I feel bad about leaving any guest commenters behind, especially if they’re in a situation where they can’t make an account for some reason. But from here on out, even my lurkers are going to have to do the bare minimum to read my fics--make an AO3 account.

Should we gatekeep fandom?

I’ve seen a few people ask this question, usually rhetorically, sometimes as a joke, always with a bit of seriousness. And I think…yeah, maybe we should. Except wait, no, not like that--

A decade ago, when people talked about fandom gatekeeping and why it was bad to do, it intersected with a lot of other things, mainly feminism and classism. The prevalent image of fandom gatekeeping was, like, a man learning that a woman likes Star Wars and haughtily demanding, “Oh, yeah? Well if you’re REALLY a fan, name ten EU novels” to belittle and dismiss her, expecting that a “real fan” would have the money and time to be familiar with the EU, and ignoring the fact that male movie-only fans were still considered fans. The thing being gatekept was the very definition of “being a fan” and people’s right to describe themselves as one.

That’s not what I mean when I say maybe fandom should gatekeep more. Anyone can call themselves a fan if they like something, that’s fine. But when it comes to the ability to enjoy the fanworks produced by the fandom community…that might be something worth gatekeeping.

See, back in the 00s, it was perfectly common for people to just…not go on the internet. Surfing the web was a thing, but it was just, like, a fun pastime. Not everyone did it. It wasn’t until the rise of social media that going online became a thing everyone and their grandmother did every day. Back then, going on the internet was just…a hobby.

So one of the first gates online fandom ever had was the simple fact that the entire world wasn’t here yet.

The entire world is here now. That gate has been demolished.

And it’s a lot easier to find us now. Even scattered across platforms, fandom is so centralized these days. It isn’t a network of dedicated webshrines and forums that you can only find via webrings anymore, it’s right there on all the big social media sites. AO3 didn’t set out to be the main fanfic website, but that’s definitely what it’s become. It’s easy for people to find us--and that includes people who don’t care about the community, and just want “content.”

Transformative fandom doesn’t like it when people see our fanworks as “content”. “Content” is a pretty broad term, but when fandom uses it we’re usually referring to creative works that are churned out by content creators to be consumed by an audience as quickly as possible as often as possible so that the content creator can generate revenue. This not-so-new normal has caused a massive shift in how people who are new to fandom view fanworks--instead of seeing fic or art as something a fellow fan made and shared with you, they see fanworks as products to be consumed.

Transformative fandom has, in general, always been a gift economy. We put time and effort into creating fanworks that we share with our fellow fans for free. We do this so we don’t get sued, but fandom as a whole actually gets a lot out of the gift economy. Offer your community a story, and in return you can get comments, build friendships, or inspire other people to write things that you might want to read. Readers are given the gift of free stories to read and enjoy, and while lurking is fine, they have the choice to engage with the writer and other readers by leaving comments or making reclists to help build the community.

And look, don’t get me wrong. People have never engaged with fanfic as much as fan writers wish they would. There has always been “no one comments anymore” wank. There have always been people who only comment to say “MORE!” or otherwise demand or guilt trip writers into posting the next chapter. But fandom has always agreed that those commenters are rude and annoying, and as those commenters navigate fandom they have the chance to learn proper community etiquette.

However, now it seems that a lot of the people who are consuming fanworks aren’t actually in the community.

I won’t say “they aren’t real fans” because that’s silly; there’s lots of ways to be a fan. But there seem to be a lot of fans now who have no interest in fandom as a community, or in adhering to community etiquette, or in respecting the gift economy. They consume our fics, but they don’t appreciate fan labor. They want our “content”, but they don’t respect our control over our creations.

And even worse--they see us as a resource. We share our work for free, as a gift, but all they see is an open-source content farm waiting to be tapped into. We shared it for free, so clearly they can do whatever they want with it. Why should we care if they feed our work into AI training datasets, or copy/paste our unfinished stories into ChatGPT to get an ending, or charge people for an unnecessary third-party AO3 app, or sell fanbindings on etsy for a profit without the author’s permission, or turn our stories into poor imitations of podfics to be posted on other platforms without giving us credit or asking our consent, while also using it to lure in people they can datascrape for their Forbes 30 Under 30 company?

And sure, people have been doing shady things with other people’s fanworks since forever. Art theft and reposting has always been a big problem. Fanfic is harder to flat-out repost, but I’ve heard of unauthorized fic translations getting posted without crediting the original author. Once in…I think the 2010s? I read a post by a woman who had gone to some sort of local bookselling event, only to find that the man selling “his” novel had actually self-published her fanfic. (Wish I could find that one again, I don’t even remember where I read it.)

But aside from that third example, the thing is…as awful as fanart/writing theft is, back in the day, the main thing a thief would gain from it was clout. Clout that should rightfully go to the creators who gifted their work in the first place, yeah, but still. Just clout. People will do a lot of hurtful things for clout, but fandom clout means nothing outside of fandom. Fandom clout is not enough to incentivize the sort of wide-scale pillaging we’re seeing from community outsiders today.

Money, on the other hand… Well, fandom’s just a giant, untapped content farm, isn’t it? Think of how much revenue all that content could generate.

Lurkers are a normal and even beneficial part of any online community. Maybe one day they’ll de-lurk and easily slide into place beside their fellow fans because they already know the etiquette. Maybe they’re active in another community, and they can spread information from the community they lurk in to the community they’re active in. At the very least, they silently observe, and even if they’re not active community members, they understand the community.

Fans who see fanworks as “content” don’t belong in the same category as lurkers. They’re tourists.

While reading through the initial Reddit thread on the lore.fm situation, I found this comment:

[ID: Reddit User Cabbitowo says: ... So in anime fandoms we have a word called tourist and essentially it means a fan of a few anime and doesn't care about anime tropes and actively criticizes them. This is kind of how fandoms on tiktok feel. They're touring fanfics and fanart and actively criticizes tropes that have been in the fandom since the 60s. They want to be in a fandom but they don't want to engage in fandom

OP totallymandy responds: Just entered back into Reddit after a long day to see this most recent reply. And as a fellow anime fan this making me laugh so much since it’s true! But it sorta hurts too when the reality sets in. Modern fandom is so entitled and bratty and you’d think it’s the minors only but that’s not even true, my age-mates and older seem to be like that. They want to eat their cake and complain all whilst bringing nothing to the potluck… :/ END ID]

“Tourist” is an apt name for this sort of fan. They don’t want to be part of our community, and they don’t have to be in order to come into our spaces and consume our work. Even if they don’t steal our work themselves, they feel so entitled to it that they’re fine with ignoring our wishes and letting other people take it to make AI “podfics” for them to listen to (there are a lot of comments on lore.fm’s shutdown announcement video from people telling them to just ignore the writers and do it anyway). They’ll use AI to generate an ending to an unfinished fic because they don’t care about seeing “the ending this writer would have given to the story they were telling”, they just want “an ending”. For these tourist fans, the ends justify the means, and their end goal is content for them to consume, with no care for the community that created it for them in the first place.

I don’t think this is confined to a specific age group. This isn’t “13-year-olds on Wattpad” or “Zoomers on TikTok” or whatever pointless generation war we’re in now. This is coming from people who are new to fandom, whose main experience with creative works on the internet is this new content culture and who don’t understand fandom as a community. That description can be true of someone from any age group.

It’s so easy to find fandom these days. It is, in fact, too easy. Newcomers face no hurdles or challenges that would encourage them to lurk and observe a bit before engaging, and it’s easy for people who would otherwise move on and leave us alone to start making trouble. From tourist fans to content entrepreneurs to random people who just want to gawk, it’s so easy for people who don’t care about the fandom community to reap all of its fruits.

So when I say maybe fandom should start gatekeeping a bit, I’m referring to the fact that we barely even have a gate anymore. Everyone is on the internet now; the entire world can find us, and they don’t need to bother learning community etiquette when they do. Before, we were protected by the fact that fandom was considered weird and most people didn’t look at it twice. Now, fandom is pretty mainstream. People who never would’ve bothered with it before are now comfortable strolling in like they own the place. They have no regard for the fandom community, they don’t understand it, and they don’t want to. They want to treat it just like the rest of the content they consume online.

And then they’re surprised when those of us who understand fandom culture get upset. Fanworks have existed far longer than the algorithmic internet’s content. Fanworks existed long before the internet. We’ve lived like this for ages and we like it.

So if someone can’t be bothered to respect fandom as a community, I don’t see why I should give them easy access to my fics.

Think of it like a garden gate

When I interact with commenters on my fic, I have this sense of hospitality.

The comment section is my front porch. The fic is my garden. I created my garden because I really wanted to, and I’m proud of it, and I’m happy to share it with other people.

Lots of people enjoy looking at my garden. Many walk through without saying anything. Some stop to leave kudos. Some recommend my garden to their friends. And some people take the time to stop by my front porch and let me know what a beautiful garden it is and how much they’ve enjoyed it.

Any fic writer can tell you that getting comments is an incredible feeling. I always try to answer all my comments. I don’t always manage it, but my fics’ comment sections are the one place that I manage to consistently socialize in fandom. When I respond to a comment, it feels like I’m pouring out a glass of lemonade to share with this lovely commenter on my front porch, a thank you for their thank you. We take a moment to admire my garden together, and then I see them out. The next time they drop by, I recognize them and am happy to pour another glass of lemonade.

My garden has always been open and easy to access. No fences, no walls. You just have to know where to find it. Fandom in general was once protected by its own obscurity, an out-of-the-way town that showed up on maps but was usually ignored.

But now there’s a highway that makes it easy to get to, and we have all these out-of-towner tourists coming in to gawk and steal our lawn ornaments and wonder if they can use the place to make themselves some money.

I don’t care to have those types trampling over my garden and eating all my vegetables and digging up my flowers to repot and sell, so I’ve put up a wall. It has a gate that visitors can get through if they just take the time to open it.

Admittedly, it’s a small obstacle. But when I share my fics, I share them as a gift with my fellow fans, the ones who understand that fandom is a community, even if they’re lurkers. As for tourist fans and entrepreneurs who see fic as content, who have no qualms ignoring the writer’s wishes, who refuse to respect or understand the fandom community…well, they’re not the people I mean to share my fic with, so I have no issues locking them out. If they want access to my stories, they’ll have to do the bare minimum to become a community member and join the AO3 invite queue.

And y’know, I’ve said a lot about fandom and community here, and I just want to say, I hope it’s not intimidating. When I was younger, talk about The Fandom Community made me feel insecure, and I didn’t think I’d ever manage to be active enough in fandom spaces to be counted as A Member Of The Community. But you don’t have to be a social butterfly to participate in fandom. I’ll always and forever be a chronic lurker, I reblog more than I post, I rarely manage to comment on fic, and I go radio silent for months at a time--but I write and post fanfiction. That’s my contribution.

Do you write, draw, vid, gif, or otherwise create? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you leave comments? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you curate reclists? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you maintain a fandom blog or fuckyeah blog? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you provide a space for other fans to convene in? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you regularly send asks (off anon so people know who you are)? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you have fandom friends who you interact with? Congrats, you're a community member.

There’s lots of ways to be a fan. Just make sure to respect and appreciate your fellow fans and the work they put in for you to enjoy and the gift economy fandom culture that keeps this community going.

#ao3 #lore.fm #fanfiction #fandom history #gift economy #caelum rambles

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lokissweater · 4 months ago

Text

“i would never lie to you.”

{toge inumaki x f!reader}

summary: inumaki’s always coming home to you from missions coughing up mass amounts of blood and completely overdoing it while fighting curses with his cursed speech technique. and no matter how many times you tell him to be careful, he just doesn’t, arguing with him, giving him the cold shoulder, and completely unaware of the reason behind why he fights so hard when he’s out there— that reason being of course… because of you.

warnings: angst, fluff, cursing, toge and reader have a lil argument but it’s more the aftermath, slight sexual mention but it’s literally once and nothing LOL, no smut!, toge thinks he’s not doing enough SNIFFF, angst with comfort, toge is DEVOTED to you, aged up characters, pet names, afab!reader.

word count: 2.3k

authors note: short n sweet one!! wanted to give you guys a break from my MLA format essays i always make y’all read LMFAOOO!! this one is SHO SOFT AHHHH :] i hope this keeps you guys fed in the meantime while i write the next one! i love you and i love you all ALWAYS MWAAHH <33

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toge inumaki hates it when you don’t talk to him.

as if he doesn’t do that enough already, toge absolutely despises when you both get into arguments or heated discussions and you turn a cold shoulder to him— needing space to unwind and prevent yourself from lashing out even more, to let the situation simmer down.

he understands it. believe him he does— you’re upset and angry and you need time to cool off… but toge is stubborn and needy and just doesn’t care, needing you and only you, him going absolutely crazy at the silence in your shared apartment that he was starting to hear random ringing in his ear drums.

so as he sat on the couch, eyes unblinking as they stared off into the darkness of the living room as the sun had already began to set, you upstairs locked away— he wanted nothing more than to open his mouth and let his cursed speech force you to come downstairs and talk to him.

but he didn’t, though the thought was definitely tempting, as toge vowed the day that he laid eyes on you to never ever use his cursed technique on you, even if it was harmless, an oath he wanted to carry with him until his very death bed and until he was six feet under.

his ears perked up then at the quiet sounds of the upstairs room door knob twisting and clicking open, soft padded footsteps making their way down the hall and closer to where he was, feet sticking against the cold tiles of the kitchen floor.

at the sight of you with your hair a little disheveled, your eyes so red and puffy, and an arm wrapped around yourself as you rummaged through the fridge looking for fuck knows what and not sparing a single glance at him— toge felt like a fifty pound gutting weight was resting on his chest and crushing his heart.

you had both argued about something you always seemed to circle back to almost every week. but this time, you were sick and tired and fed up, seeing as toge was never going to try and understand the situation at hand through your worried eyes.

every time toge was out for a mission, you would spend your days anxiously throwing yourself over the couch or trying to keep yourself busy with random activities like baking or scrapbooking (which you deemed later meaningless), all within the sole purpose of trying to get your mind off of your boyfriend and the recklessness he always seemed to pull while on missions, regardless of how much you begged and pleaded with him to be more careful and aware of his health.

toge inumaki had such a powerful and lethal cursed technique that frightened and astonished you all at the same time, a conflicting feeling to have when he had to leave you in the middle of the night or during the early hours of the morning to run around and fight curses… but always coming home to you warm and loving and safe.

but not right now.

not when toge had literally come home this morning with not even two steps in the door and he was already on his knees, coughing up strings and loads of crimson blood, it pooling on the floor as he had used his cursed speech to the highest degree today and had you a crying mess thinking he was dying.

and he always did that. always. today was just the worst of them all, him without a fault coming home with excruciating pain in his bruised and clawed up throat, the cough syrup medicine he usually downed like water having absolutely no effect anymore as you scrambled around every time trying to find a solution, toge brushing off your distressed and frightened rambling as if his health wasn’t a big deal, and as if how much it affected you wasn’t a big deal either.

upon you closing the fridge, toge slowly stood from the couch and carefully walked over to you, his throat still in pieces but his mind lurching and guilty over how upset you were at him.

he slowly raised a gentle hand and placed it on your shoulder, you shaking your head somberly in response— your back to him.

“i don’t wanna talk right now toge i’m sorry…” you mumbled, rubbing over your tired sore eyes.

he squeezed your shoulder, insisting.

but you only shook your head again.

toge huffed and placed both hands on your shoulders this time, physically turning you around to face him— his eyes soft and his eyebrows pinched together in pure concern for you.

you peeked up reluctantly, but the sight of his face and the events from earlier flashing through your mind only made your bottom lip wobble and the bottom of your palms shoot up to dig into your eyes, more stinging tears flooding in and slipping through the corners of your closed lids.

his heart fucking broke.

“why don’t you care toge?” you hiccuped. “i worry myself sick every time you leave for a mission and— and that’s fine because it’s what you do but you never take care of yourself!”

he gently pried your shaking hands away from your eyes and wiped your tears softly with his thumbs, caressing your cheeks after— wishing so badly, more than anything in this fucking world, to just be able to speak to you like a normal human being instead of resorting to words scrambled on a piece of paper or text messages on a screen.

he gently placed a little timid peck to your nose before releasing your face and fumbling around in his pockets for his phone, tapping it awake once he retrieved it and opening his notes app to write out a sentence.

he flipped and faced the screen towards you, the brightness making you squint a bit.

“i do care i swear. i just always forget when i’m in the middle of it and i’m sorry baby.”

“so you keep forgetting after what feels like the fifteenth time i’ve told you?” you wiped more tears from your cheeks. “how— how do you think it makes me feel when you come home and you’re coughing up blood all over your clothes and the furniture huh? all over me?”

he sighed softly through his nose and went to type again, but you continued.

“i get scared toge that one day you’ll push yourself way too far and then you just won’t come home. you scare me when you cough up so much blood like that!—”

toge tugged you in then with his unoccupied hand and wrapped his arms around you, pushing your head in and stuffing your face against his chest— the scent of his freshly washed t-shirt filling your nose as you cried softly.

fuck he felt like such a douche.

he typed for a moment behind your head, a pit in his stomach that only grew in size the longer he heard your little sniffles.

toge pulled back a bit, his arms still keeping you in place but just enough so that he could lower his phone and show you his message.

“please please don’t cry. i’m really sorry okay i really am and honest to god this won’t happen again.”

you nodded meekly and he flipped his phone back, quickly typing again and showing you once he finished.

“i feel like you think i don’t care but that’s not true at all. part of the reason why i try so hard when i work is because the more curses i fuck up the safer you’ll be when you’re out there without me.”

you laughed a bit at his wording, and he beamed at that, typing.

“i love you pretty girl. and im sorry i always get blood everywhere.”

“oh i don’t care about the mess baby, i care about youu,” you whined lightly and wrapped your arms around his torso, pulling him in tight.

“and i love you too, a lot… like an embarrassing amount that strips away my dignity.”

he chuckled boyishly and pressed a tender kiss to the top of your head, his body stuttering slightly as a single thought grazed his mind— the same thought that’s been in the crevices of his brain since he asked you to be his.

you felt his tension and pulled back.

“what?”

toge bit the inside of his cheek and looked down at you, his weight shifting as he contemplated telling you something he didn’t want to burden or upset you with, the pad of his thumb softly rubbing over your chubby cheek.

you quirked an eyebrow. “what? are you cheating on me?”

he burst out laughing and shook his head, kissing your forehead before dropping his hand from your cheek and pulling out his phone again.

he typed for a minute then showed you.

“me not being able to speak to you like a normal boyfriend should or respond to you whenever makes me freaking useless. so i push myself out there to keep you safe because that’s literally the least i can do for you, since i can’t even do the bare minimum.”

you gasped softly. “toge huh? this is—”

he shook his head once more and you stopped as he typed again.

“i always try to make you laugh with the things that i do or whenever i text you because i’m afraid that one day you’ll get tired of me not being able to talk to you and you’ll leave. which is also something i would never blame you for and understand.”

your heart squeezed in the worst excruciatingly way possible, completely baffled and mortified to the fact that toge was thinking about things like this and wholeheartedly believing it without you noticing or him saying anything to you about it.

he typed again.

“that’s why i cosplay as gojo when i leave for missions and come back a dumbass with blood in my mouth. that’s why i forget when you tell me to be careful because the need to be something for you is way fucking greater.”

“togeee!” you sobbed, bursting out crying like a little baby as you were moved and haunted by his words simultaneously, your arms engulfing him as he desperately shot his hands out and quickly wiped your tears again, shaking his head frantically as if pleading with you not to cry.

“how could you ever believe that?” you nudged him away and hiccuped, your eyes serious. “why haven’t you told me about this? everything you just said is literally propaganda.”

he chuckled, but you could tell he wasn’t convinced.

“toge, why do you think i’ve been with you for so long? do you think i’m just dicking around?”

“dicking around on my dick?”

you swatted his phone away. “no! not right now.”

you both shared a small giggle, twinkling eyes looking at each other.

“if i felt like you weren’t doing even the bare minimum, i would’ve been gone before you had the chance to put this ring on—”

his gaze drifted down to the black shiny heart promise ring on your ring finger that you held up for him, and he smiled softly.

“baby what you do for me everyday is above and beyond the bare minimum. i’m happy. i’m so happy to be with you that you not doing enough has never crossed my mind and it never will.”

you slid your arms around his neck and pulled him down a little, gently. “i’ve never cared about your ability to speak. i fell in love with you, who you are, and the fact that i did without you having to iterate words to me? olympic sport.”

toge rolled his eyes playfully at your comment, and you stood on your tippy toes and kissed the tip of his pretty nose then. “all men do when they talk is lie anyways…” you tilted your head. “but i know you’ll never lie to me.”

“never.” he mouthed silently.

he bundled you up in his arms and lifted you like you were nothing, him carefully leaning in and pressing his lips to yours as if you were a fragile little thing— kissing you so devotedly, warmly, his forehead resting against yours once he pulled apart after greedily getting his daily fix of you.

“i know your job as a jujutsu sorcerer pays the bills and comes with you putting yourself in difficult situations… and my job doesn’t even compare, but please don’t overdo it for my sake. i want you to come home, okay?”

you know it’s selfish… he should be saving lives no matter the cost.

but he was your man. was it so bad to just want to keep him for the rest of your days? to get the chance to grow old with him, and buy a little quiet house on the country side like you always joked about in the late hours of the night with him? drinking cool glasses of lemonade on the porch?

“please don’t always be the hero.” you whispered guiltily. “but if you must… just keep me in mind while you do it.”

you’re always on his mind. he hopes you know that.

toge breathed softly through his nose and smoothly set you back down, the pads of your feet making contact with the icy tile flooring as his hands dragged up from around your waist to the sides of your head, him pushing a hard kiss to your cheek as if to seal your request.

“do you promise?” you mumbled.

he pulled back and held his little pinky out for you, and you giggled, linking yours with his firmly.

“you can’t go back on it okay? you used your pinky it’s legally binding!” you warned, a silly smile on your face. “don’t lie to me and break it.”

toge grinned and leaned towards you as he bent down a bit— your gaze locking with his as he looked at you at eye level with his hands on his knees, him mouthing his next words, slowly.

words that made your cheeks buzz a cutesy pink, words that he took seriously, and words that tied you to him and the little house by the countryside he wanted so badly with you, as those words solidified how much he truly truly loved you— him hoping you always knew.

“i would never lie to you.” he mouthed.

taglist!! <33: @saebaey

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ubeb0nes · 6 days ago

Text

Getting jealous (AGAIN) as Sevika's girlfriend...

you just can't catch a break, huh? your fault for falling in love with this absolute lady-killer

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a/n: ever since i remembered i have free will and can post all my sevika goblin thoughts i have been cooking entire posts up in like under an hour, somebody please help me LMAO

i had too many ideas for the jealous!reader, so here's another. i picture this as being my pit fighter!reader characterization, so do with that what you will :33

it isn't that you hate absolutely anybody looking at Sevika at all

like, you get it. and a part of you loves that everyone else can see just as clearly as you how absolutely captivating she is.

BUT IT GETS TO A POINT-

After the incident with the girl at the bar, Sevika does her best to make sure that you don't feel neglected in public. She slips, of course she does, but she does try like hell

It typically goes that anybody who approaches her, flat out doesn't acknowledge you. it's a by-product of how she's so non-PDA that it slips the mind of these thirsty women that she's even in a relationship

You, being a practical and results-driven individual, remedy this by being a little bolder in public every now and then

Nowadays, Sevika doesn't usually object. She understands why you're doing it now, and she's getting tired of the would-be homewreckers coming onto her too lol

You'll cup her cheek, give her a firm but quick kiss whenever you bring a drink over to her while she's in a game of cards. Come up beside her at the bar and rest your hand on her hip for a while (she fucking loves this one, she won't tell you though)

From then on, people start to get the message. If anybody's heartbroken over it, they become less inclined to showing it

So, you almost want to believe you're imagining things when you clock someone from across the bar who seems to keep giving you the stink eye

you're not dumb

you can see the way she's gesturing between you and Sevika to her friends, shaking her head in disgust. now that's a new one...

Sevika has her human arm over your shoulder while this is happening, the other holding onto her hand of cards. She looks over at you when you pluck the cigarillo out from her fingers and take a drag of your own in distress. She's deeply amused by this

"Okay, baby?" "Mhm. Peachy." You were not peachy. The hell did you do to deserve that look?

For a second Sevika thinks you're mad at her, frowning and angling her body towards you (she notices Ran trying to sneak a look at her cards as she does, and bucks playfully at them). Her eyes flick up to follow your line of vision, and then she understands

She chuckles under her breath.

"You could take her in a fight, princess."

oh, and don't you know it. You shake away the thought though, not wanting to escalate the situation in your head in the case that it's actually not at all what you think it is, and then you look stupid

You ask Sevika if she wants another whiskey and she declines, so you get up to just get yours. You're minding your business by the bar, trying to not grace that table with any more glances when that bites you in the ass as a shoulder checks yours

of course, it's the girl. I guess it wasn't in your head

You make eye contact with her when she looks over her shoulder at you and scoffs, shaking her head. You don't look away even as the bartender slides your drink into your hand

now, you have some options here. most of them include violence to some degree. you're contemplating them all as you're walking back to Sevika, eyes straight ahead

then you catch a few choice words from her table; something, something, "-can she fight..." you don't hear the rest, but does it really matter?

you stop in your tracks. you glance up at your girlfriend who didn't see what happened earlier but is watching you now, brow raised and mouthing what's wrong?

at this point, i don't think this even counts as jealousy, you're just defending your woman's honor

you give her a shake of your head that says don't worry (and now she's definitely worrying), and turn on your heel and make a beeline for the bitch's table

Sevika is about to get up to back you up- for whatever the situation may be- when she sees your posture as you stand over the girl from earlier.

Ran stops her though, grinning from ear to ear. "Let your girl have this, Sev. I wanna see her beat ass." Sevika scoffs, but tentatively sits back down. She trusts your judgement. Whatever your call is-

oh, you're smashing your glass over the girl's head. Ran gives a loud whoop

"You wanna take her from me? Go ahead, try," you'd said while Ran was talking Sevika down. The smile on your face was near-manic. "See what she does when you put your hands on me."

It's not like this woman was exactly tiny or helpless-looking; most in Zaun strived to be neither. But Sevika hadn't been lying when she said you could take her.

It was not a memo she'd received, though.

You couldn't recall what exactly she'd said, but you do know your mind reached an immediate state of singularity when she said she'd kill you before Sevika could do anything about it.

BET

"Goddammit-" Sevika barks out your name as she shoots up from her chair. Ran is doubled over with laughter

She's deceptively fast for her height, and thank fucking god for it. Her human arm wraps around your waist like a vise, pulling you back with ease

She would've been cutting up right with Ran in any other circumstance, given the way you were stancing on the now-dazed woman, fists clenched and shoulders shrugged up like an angry big cat

"Down, girl," she mutters to you. Her lips quirk up at the way you shift your jaw around, obviously still pissed off and ready to scrap

"I was defending your honor." "Mhm. What would I do without you, huh?"

Sevika's in front of you when the woman scrambles up out of her seat to retaliate. Sevika towers over the both of you, and you're nearly completely hidden behind her now as she glares at the woman

"You don't wanna fight her, much less me. Go ahead and clear off."

Maybe jealousy isn't as accurate of a term for you as territorial. You've got nothing to be jealous of, not with how fiercely devoted Sevika is at every turn

#arcane #sevika #sevika x reader #sevika headcanon #ubebones writing #this was so unserious to write LMAO

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celestie0 · 4 months ago

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gojo satoru x reader | oneshot angst [18+]

title. let me be free of you

He would live in this lifetime of hell over and over again if it meant that in some other one, there exists a world where he never hurts you.

ᰔ pairing. friends to strangers au - best friend!gojo x reader (f)

ᰔ summary. gojo satoru, your love of a lifetime, tells you he’s engaged to another woman. inspired by the novel & netflix series “one day” created by david nicholls

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fem!reader, angst, mentions of sex/explicit content, coming of age themes, reader & gojo are in their 30s, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of alcohol, cheating, lots of mutual pining & longing, bittersweet ending

ᰔ word count. 4.8k

a/n. hellooo! i've had this finished in my wips folder for a long time but never got around to posting it sooo just wanted to let it see the light of day haha. hope you enjoyyy <33

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“I’m engaged.”

The words leave Gojo’s lips as much less of a confession and more like a blabber, like a toddler desperate to keep conversation going in the face of a disinterested adult. Wasn’t how he expected to share the news of a lifetime to the love of his lifetime, but he hopes it breaks your heart to hear it.

He watches your eyebrows flatten from the crease that was bothering them before, and then slowly raise into soft arches above your eyes–those damn beautiful eyes that, even when they twinkle with hurt, still make his heart skip a beat in his chest.

He recalls for a moment the night the two of you met, drunk and dizzy from drinking out of a shared bottle of Prosecco, which only had half of the liquor left in it to start when he had first found it bleeding out to dry on the grassy lawn at the front of your university. It was graduation night, the last day to celebrate finishing four years of hell, and he had nothing to his name other than a rolled up diploma shoved in the pocket of his suit pants and the charm left in the youth of his smile. He wanted to spend the night with Aiko Rei, which was not a unique desire as most men on campus did, and he had a fair shot of getting into bed with her just like all those times before. But instead he was sitting at the top of a staircase inside the campus’s English literature building, making history in the crisp year of 1986 by being the first man of the robust age of twenty-three to pass up sex with the school’s lady heartthrob for–well, conversation with a sort of ditsy girl that he just met a half hour ago.

“What do you plan to do with your life?” he heard you ask him, a hard enough question to stomach when one is sober, and an impossible question to stomach when one is already trying not to puke flat Prosecco.

“Pardon?” he asked, in hopes to dissuade you from the question. In hopes that you’d get the hint. But you don’t. And he’d soon learn throughout the years of your friendship to come that you never did.

“Your life!” you exclaim, “we’re graduates now! What do you want to do with it?” You pat harshly at his thigh, closer to his groin than to his pocket, most likely because you’re tipsy too, but he realizes you’re referring to the rolled up paper protruding at the pocket.

Truthfully, Gojo had never thought much about what he wanted to do after graduation. Hell, he didn’t even think he’d make it this far. Not once since he got here, not once since he flunked out of first-year history, not once since his father passed away during his third-year final examinations, and most certainly not after he got caught having “unethical affairs” with his communications professor just two months ago. And yet the esteemed board of scholars decided he was fit for a diploma anyway, and now he’s answering to, effectively, a stranger what he plans to do with said piece of paper.

“I don’t know,” he says to you, “I’ll do whatever.”

Gojo Satoru could get by with doing whatever. He was good at everything he did. But his teachers and mentors and his own father would always warn him– son, it’s better to be an expert at one than a half-assed show-off in all. Well, they wouldn’t use the expletives, but that’s what it had sounded like in his head.

His dad would’ve liked you. He was always telling him to find a girl that challenges him, asks him the right questions, and pushes him to become a better man, the kind of woman his mother was to his father. Much opposed to the airheaded girls of Gojo’s college campus he would sneak into the house and forget to shoo off before sunrise, an occurrence that happened enough times for the respect in his father’s eyes to dwindle with each woman he’d watch his son dispel from their residence. Until eventually, Gojo started paying rent as punishment.

So, twenty-three year old Gojo, what do you plan to do with your life? Or do you have no idea of anything that extends beyond where you are right now, sitting across this strange girl you’ve just met on the death of your educational youth, at the top of a stairwell lined with passed out, drunk newly grads at nearly 4 in the morning? Right now, he’s eyeing the hem of your dress, the way it’s ridden up slightly but the mesh overskirt still tickles the skin of your thigh. He’s certainly able to picture what’s beyond that fabric, and maybe imagine the color of your panties, but what’s to come for his life? No. As previously mentioned, he never thought he’d get this far.

Gojo is thirty-four now, eleven years since that night the two of you met. And he sits next to you on a garden bench under a pitch black sky with stars speckled across, but only dimly visible.

It’s been years since he’s seen you. You two had a “falling out” at the cusp of thirty, almost a decade of friendship fizzled away, because of his selfish actions. He couldn’t let you go, but he couldn’t want you the way you wanted him either. He didn’t feel like he deserved to have you. You were too good for him, and he knew it. So he wasted a decade chasing after other women, and in return, he lost the one he knew he was supposed to spend the rest of his life with.

It’s the night of your college roommate‘s wedding, all gathered here today to celebrate their love, and he knew he’d run into you here. You were the bride’s maiden of honor, and you looked beautiful. With your hair half tied up, a pretty clip twinkling with every movement of your head, and with strands falling down over the smooth curve of your neck, bare skin of your chest tightly covered by the nude fabric of your dress. He was fully lusting after you, and he has been all night, the picture of beauty and grace, and it was wrong. Because, again, he’s–

“You’re engaged?” you finally break through his thoughts, break through the trance that he was lost in by the sea of your eyes. Forever pulling him in like you were a wicked siren for his soul, when all you’ve ever wanted from him was his love.

He shifts a little, the thick fabric of his navy blue suit stretching with the movement as he fidgets with his hands in his lap. He’s sitting close to you, his shoulder brushing against yours, the contrast of his broad masculinity so evident against the feminine curve of your bare arm, the thin strap holding up your dress threatening to fall down the hill. His thumb twitches, because he wants to pull it back up into place for you like a gentleman, but he’s not sure if that’s what his hand would actually do. Because all he really wants to do is peel the dress off of you.

“Yes,” he says, still tantalized by the glow of your skin under pale moonlight, “engaged.”

“To be married?”

“Well, what other kind of engaged is there?”

“You’re not allowed to get married.”

He snorts. “Says who?”

“Says me!” you exclaim, sitting up straighter, "I turn my back for one moment, and you've gone an got engaged? You're awful!" The strap of your dress falls down over your shoulder, his eyes immediately darting to it. He sees you pull the strap up back into place, and a flit of his eyes to your face reveals to him the slight dusting of an embarrassed pink to your cheeks.

There’s a silence that settles between the two of you. Distant commotion is heard, likely from the wedding venue as people engage in reception activities and dances and cheers, while the two of you remain in this garden escape, the wall of primly trimmed bushes sheltering you two from having to pretend to be people you’re not amongst a crowd.

“Aiko…” he hears you say beside him, and although the name of the woman that has rolled off your tongue is the name of the woman he’s supposed to love, it only makes him feel sick to his stomach to hear you say her name. “She seems lovely.”

“She is,” is all he can manage to say. And he also knows this seemingly lovely woman is probably drunk off her face back at the reception hall, giggling at all the men that approach her from the sight of her flushed face, and he should feel some sort of jealousy or possessiveness over that, but he can’t seem to muster any. Unlike the grit he had to his jaw an hour ago when he saw you dancing with a man he heard you introduce to your friends as just an “old friend” of yours from college. He felt more anger in that moment than he’d ever felt watching his soon-to-be-wife getting talked up to by the sleazy men twice her age.

“She must be very rich,” you say. “She looks it.”

“Oh. Yeah. Her family’s very well off,” Gojo says.

“So will you become rich too?” you ask him, “when you marry her.”

His eyes flit to the sky briefly. “Doubt it.”

“How come?”

“The old man doesn’t like me very much. I imagine he’ll cut ties after the wedding.”

“Her father?”

“Yes.”

“And why is that?”

“Well. I guess it’s not every father’s dream to find out his prim and proper daughter’s been knocked up by the good-for-nothing boyfriend he’s been threatening her to say good riddance to for months now.”

The silence finds the two of you again, but this time haunting and gutting. That was a blabber, if anything. So nonchalantly said, with no emotion or spirit, to the one person in this world who he’s always felt like he can be himself around.

“She’s pregnant?” you say beside him, voice breaking slightly at the end, and he can’t bear to look at you for some reason. Some sort of admission of guilt, but what for? What exactly was he repenting for?

He lets out a small laugh, like the absurdity of the situation finds him all the same. “Yeah.”

“That–” you start, stiff next to him, before he feels the tension relax but only rigidly, “that’s wonderful, Satoru. I’m–...I’m really happy for you.” You turn your torso to wrap your arms around him, and his lips brush the sweet skin on your forehead as you bury your face in the crook of his neck. He wraps one arm around you, a sort of friendly hug as he rubs the skin of your arm soothingly, and his heart aches from the emptiness when you release him.

“Wow…” you say, looking up at him with pretty eyes, eyelashes fluttering as you blink rapidly to process the information, and he wonders if you really are happy for him. He doesn’t want you to be. He wants you to be furious, to tell him off for getting another woman pregnant after leading you on for so many years, maybe he wants you to slap him, or grab him by the collar of his shirt and shake him until all he sees is a million of you through dizzy vision like some paradise. He wants you to be mad, because it’d mean that you still care. It’d mean that you still think there’s something here to salvage between the two of you.

But he’s engaged. And he’s having a baby. What was more final than that?

“So…are you marrying her because of–”

“The wedding is in four weeks,” he cuts you off, but he knows the statement answers your question regardless.

“Satoru…”

He leans off to the side a little to reach into the pocket of his suit pants, and he pulls out what is now a slightly bent envelope and he hands it to you. You take it from him gently, holding it weakly like it was something beyond you. Like something distant and foreign and strange. When all it was, is a wedding invitation.

“Listen…” he starts.

He sees your eyes dazed as you stare at the lettering on the outside of the envelope.

“We’ve been friends for a long time, y/n. And I know the last time we saw each other was–” Hostile. Angry. Disappointing. Ended with you cussing him out on the street and then saying you never want to see him again. “...not ideal, but I still care a lot about you, and, uh, so, it would mean a lot to me if you came to the wedding.” For fucks sake, even on the brink of losing you forever, he still can’t find the right words to say. “Aiko, she–” He tastes bitter in his mouth, “well, I’ve told her a lot about you, and she’d really love it if you came as well.”

You’re silent as you gently peel back the opening of the letter and then pull out the small card stock invitation. The gold printed letters shine as you inspect it, fingers tracing the patterns of words that profess the Rei family’s intent to wed their daughter to Gojo Satoru. Your Gojo Satoru. Your best friend in this whole wide world. He watches your eyes carefully, but he can’t discern what he finds in them.

“Gojo Satoru…” you drone off, “to be wed. And to be a father.” Years of late night talks of the future, of kids and Christmas and love, with reality seemingly sly on the horizon only to have crept up so abruptly. It was pinched between your fingers right now. That reality.

His shoulders sulk slightly. And when you look up at him again, there’s a sheen of tears in your eyes.

“I can’t come to this,” you whisper, “and you know that, Satoru.”

His heart breaks. A physical pain that twists in his chest so tight at just the sight of seeing you sad. Sad again over the actions of his own. They say you always hurt the one you love, and he had always wondered what sort of evil person would do such a thing, only to find out he’s only ever hurt you this entire time.

He should’ve kissed you that night the two of you met at graduation. Should’ve shut you up and all your existential questions by pinning you to a wall and pressing his lips against yours. He should’ve taken you to bed and fucked you, and then held you in his arms until you woke up in the morning. Should’ve listened to you talk his ear off about how he’s just like all the other guys, who pretend to care, but only want to have sex and then never to speak to the girl ever again. And he should’ve laid there in bed, nose nuzzled in your hair, taking all the scolding despite having no intent to ever leave you.

Instead, he wasted so much time. Sure, he had your friendship. His best friend for years, but the two of you could’ve been something more. Could’ve spent the years together, instead of writing stained letters or leaving messages on answering machines while the two of you were miles away. He could’ve been waking up with you every morning with the scent of your shampoo on his sheets, instead of clinging to pillows in foreign motel rooms. He could’ve been engaged to you, and he could be whispering sweet nothings in your ear of how much he wishes the baby will have your eyes.

But his thoughts are lost in fantasy. He is what he’s done, nothing more and nothing less. His eyes fall to your lap, the invitation still held loosely in your hand, and then a droplet of water falls onto it.

“I–” you stutter, wiping at the tears spilling down your cheeks with a hesitant swipe of your hand, “I need to go.”

You stand up off the bench and he quickly stands up with you, grabbing your wrist to keep you here with him, and you halt but only with you facing away from him. He yanks at your wrist harshly, pulling you into him so his chest is flush to your back, his arms wrapping strongly around you and his nose nuzzling into your hair, breathing you in greedily like it’s the last time he’ll ever get the chance.

“Satoru–” you gasp, your hands immediately grabbing at his forearms that are tightly crossed across your collarbone. “What are you doing–”

“Say it,” he whispers, gruff and impatient, “tell me to do it, and I will.”

“T-Tell you to do what?” you stutter, struggling a little in his hold but he only holds you tighter.

“Tell me to leave her, and I will,” he says, his lips brushing at your ear now, the scent of your perfume maddening to his senses, and one of his hands slowly trails down and the knuckle of his thumb presses into the softness of your breast.

You squirm, a small and soft moan leaving your lips.

“T–” you breathe in harshly, “this is wrong.”

“I don’t care,” he growls, arms sliding lower to hold you under your breasts, so tightly that your heels lift off the ground. “Just say the word, and I’ll leave everything behind for you. I promise,” he breathes in deep, the desperation making his head hazy, “that I’ll do things right this time. Just you and me–”

“You’re going to be a father,” you remind him, and he shuts his eyes closed tightly, the responsibility of the word bearing on his shoulders but his desire for you overshadows every shred of sense or dignity or integrity he has left in him, because he felt like he was losing his mind after wanting you for years just to never have you.

He turns you around in his hold so that you face him, and he crashes his lips to yours, muffling the surprised mmf! that dies in your throat in surprise as his hands hold your waist, relishing in the feeling of satin fabric pulled taut over your curves.

Forbidden, yet a taste that he’ll risk because there was no curse that was worse than the fate of having to pine after you for years.

Ah.

But.

But it was all fantasy, this moment in his head, where he takes you on the freshly cut grass of this garden.

Something that only briefly flashes through his mind as his warm hand wraps around your wrist, from where he was still seated on the stone bench, and not on his feet holding you like he dreamed for. Like he longed for.

He feels the weight of his arm so heavily, as if it weren’t his own, and he slowly lets go of your wrist.

When he looks up at you, there’s longing in your eyes. A hurt that he didn’t even know he was capable of causing, just for him to realize that you’ve always looked at him that way, and he’s never been keen enough to know it until now. He grew up too late. He took too long.

His phone starts buzzing in his pocket, and he reaches in for it, then flips it open and sees his soon-to-be-wife’s name on it. He feels nothing at the sight.

“Hello?” he speaks into the device when he holds it to his ear, and he sees you take a couple steps away, rubbing anxiously at your elbow as you pretend to busy yourself with the study of the lamp. “Yes, I’ll be there soon. I, uh, I’m just with a friend. A couple of friends, actually. We’re having drinks by the pond. Mhm. Yes. I will. Okay, see you soon. I—…I love you too. Bye.” And then he snaps the phone shut.

“Heading back?” he hears you ask.

He stands. “I’ve got to.”

“Okay.”

You two walk down the shrubbery of the garden that was arranged like a maze, him a few paces behind you, and he watches the delicate line of your posture as your hand brushes against the green walls of foliage that encase the two of you, the feeling of wanting to touch you and hold you almost suffocating.

“Hey,” he calls out to you, and he shoves his hands in his suit pockets. You turn around immediately to face him, like his voice was permission to do so.

“Yes?” you ask.

He blinks up at the starry sky, and then looks at you again. The soft cast of distant warm lighting falls over your face, making you appear like a renaissance painting, similar to those that you would point out to him at museums when you two would see each other on holiday back in your early twenties. He could never understand the charm of those paintings, no matter how many times you tried to explain it to him, but seeing you in this light right now, he finally understands the beauty that you saw.

“I’m, uh,” he rubs at the back of his neck, and then scoffs out a small laugh, “I’m a little drunk right now, but–” He stops himself. What was he trying to say? And was it of conscious mind? “I just need to tell you that…I really regret…not speaking to you. I mean, for letting the silence drag on for years. You’re my–...my best friend. We’re a pair, you know? The two of us. For years, people would ask me where you were. And why they haven’t seen us together at all recently. And it was hard to admit that we hadn’t spoken in years.”

You take the smallest of steps towards him, and look up at him with empty eyes.

“What I’m trying to say is, is that, well,” he finds himself tripping over his words, “I miss you. And I miss our friendship. And–...I miss having you around.” He glances down at his shoes, polished and reflecting off the moonlight directly above him. He rocks back and forth on his heels ever so slightly. “I know you said that I piss you off to lengths unimaginable to my tiny pea-sized brain, but I can’t help myself, y/n,” he admits, “I think you and I, we’re just meant to always be. In some how, or some way…”

You purse your lips together, gaze shifting lower to eye at the silk of his tie.

“Can we be friends again?” he asks, the words feeling juvenile on his tongue. Like whispered apologies between children on a playground after shoving one another onto wooden chips, except the wounds he’s left on you run much deeper than a superficial scrape.

You blink slowly, tilting your head up at him. “Friends?”

“Friends.”

You wipe your palm off on the satin of your dress. “I missed you too, you know.”

His eyes widened slightly.

Your hand finds its way up your arm, until you weakly cup your elbow with your palm and look off to the side, avoiding eye contact with him. “There were so many years where I thought that there was something between us. And maybe I was foolish for thinking that way, that you would ever see me that way–”

“y/n,” he tries to interrupt you.

“But…the pain of not having you the way I wanted to was much less worse than the pain of not having you at all,” you say, your gaze finally shifting towards him. “But, the thing is, I needed to feel that pain to get over you. I had to.”

His heart stills at those words.

You glance down at the ground now. “I missed being able to tell you things. To laugh, and cry, and argue. I miss humbling your stupid ego. I miss being able to call you at any time, knowing you’d pick up when I needed you.”

His heart aches so much he wants to reach into his chest and hold it.

“The thing is,” you continue, “you would’ve been the first person I would’ve run to to tell them that I lost my best friend.” There were tears shining in your eyes. “But what could I do when you were the one that I had lost? Who could I have turned to then?”

He lets out a shaky breath, and in a swift motion, his arm wraps around your waist and he pulls you to him in an embrace.

You’re stiff in his hold, mechanical and rigid, so contrary to the soft tears you leave behind on the fabric of his sleeve, but slowly and surely, you warm and thaw. Your hands slide up past his shoulders, linking behind his neck. And his head drops to the curve of your neck, swaying you with him slowly as if it were a first dance.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, “for hurting you.”

You breathe out slowly. “Just let me go, Satoru. Let me be free. Let me be free of you.”

He feels the air knock out of his lungs, and the two of you slowly pull your heads away from the embrace to look at one another, although your hands still find a place on his shoulders, and he still holds you close to him by a delicate hold of your waist.

He wonders if in another life, you two were happy. He wonders if he could ever take back all the decisions he made, and start all over again. On that day the two of you met on that staircase in the west wing of the literature building, he would make a different choice. If he could, he would live in this lifetime of hell over and over again if it meant that in some other one, there exists a world where he never hurts you.

“It’s time for me to go,” you whisper, eyes darting across the features of his face, studying them but with a familiarity that only you know, because you held his entire life in your palm. Your gaze meets his again, faces just inches apart, and the sweet curl of your eyelashes makes him weak in the knees. “It’s time.”

He nods slowly, his own eyes studying your face as well, except it looks foreign to him now.

It’s all been said and done. There was nothing he could do to right the wrongs, or undo all the pain. He was to be a father now, and his duties were now towards his wife and unborn child. And no longer to the woman he holds in his arms, one he’s sure he will never stop loving for as long as he lives.

It’s a sweet moment, the two of you gazing at one another. You look so pretty from this angle, looking up at him with the smallest tilt to your head and round searching eyes. His head subconsciously dips down towards yours in the second that he glances at your lips, but he stops himself. And when you make no move to create distance, he finds himself closing it again, until his lips brush against yours ever so softly. And then he captures them in a kiss, firm and unmistaken, finding solace in the way your lips move against his too, unsure yet passionately at the same time. Your fingers ever so slightly dig into his shoulders while his thumbs soothe at the skin of your waist, the two of you savoring the last moments of a kiss that’ll be the sweetest one you’ll ever know.

You pull away first, a small puff of air leaving your lips as you glance downwards. He rests his forehead against yours, never once looking away from your face. And you both breathe slowly, the soul of the chaste kiss entirely vanishing into the air along with all the hope that the two of you had left to make anything of the way you feel about one another. It was a kiss that almost disqualified any level of sin or guilt or wrong, because it was like one you two owed each other, after years of familiarity and longing. It was the goodbye that the two of you deserved.

His hands slowly let go of your waist, and he takes a step back away from you, softly clearing his throat. The distance feels like a galaxy away, and he briefly runs his thumb along his bottom lip, because the ghostly feeling of your lips on his still remains.

“Shall we head back?” you ask him, prim and proper in posture and eyes widened in a formal gaze.

His lips are parted, and he finds that he’s panting slightly. And then he slowly nods his head. “Yes.”

[the end]

a/n. i am sooooo freaking obsessed w "one day" by david nicholls and really wanted to write something inspired by it!! the book literally ripped my heart out and stomped on it like there were so many scenes where i just longingly stared out the window because of how shattering it was but dear god i really enjoyed it, and the show was also so dfkjhsfkhs i had sm feels watching it. so yea this was fun to write!! i hope you enjoyedd n thanks so much for reading :)

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chuluoyi · 8 months ago

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࿐ ࿔ 🕰️ 「 02:33 P.M 」

based on this video. this idea has been rotting in my brain for some while :') dad gojo will always have a soft spot in my heart <3

a part of gojo's love entries

your baby’s first trip to aquarium was such a cute affair you were sure you wouldn’t forget anytime soon.

“waaa~” your baby’s eyes were gleaming with wonder as he gazed at the diverse array of colorful fishes above him, completely captivated by the view.

and your husband...

“aren’t they pretty, hmm?” satoru asked his adorable son with a grin, pecking his cheek and holding him snugly in the baby carrier against his chest, with a backpack of baby essentials strapped on his back.

he was the very vision of a domestic dad, and along with your son, who was dressed in a bear onesie, complete with two little ears, they made a really irresistible pair. even you couldn’t fault the crowd for staring at them.

“fwaa! waa~” your munchkin was squirming with joy, his tiny fingers stretching out towards the sight before him. satoru giggled, moving closer to the glass to give his baby a better view.

“look! that’s clownfish! and those wiggly flowers are anemone! and that is—”

he faltered at a fish passing in his view before deciding, “this— i don’t know, but it’s the clownfish’s friend!”

they are basically the same. your little boy and your husband, both of them clearly shared a brain cell as they happily pointed out different fishes.

“meh! hehe!” your baby babbled away, excited and incredibly happy in his father’s hold, and satoru too seemed to feel the same, as his eyes beyond that sunglasses crinkled.

“damn, my kid is so cute.”

suddenly he dived down and pretended to chew his pumpkin’s chubby cheeks, effectively making him squeal in glee.

and oh lord, the way your heart skipped a beat seeing that. it was so clear how much satoru adored your baby, and it made overwhelming warmth rush to your chest.

“he’s a good man,” an elderly lady beside you suddenly remarked, making you turn to her. “not many men do that for their kids.”

“he is…” you agreed with a shy smile.

“it’s a shame that you only have one baby,” the elderly man beside her—possibly her husband—added. “you’re still young and he is so good with them too.”

your heart swelled and would’ve already burst if it was possible. bashfully, you thanked the elderly pair as they went on their way.

and along the way, you received similar hushed comments and adoring looks—

“oh my! their baby is so cute!”

“how can such family exists?! the dad, mom, baby… all three of them are so good-looking!”

“such a hot dilf! can’t he divorce his wife and marry me instead? i’ll be his kid’s stepmother gladly!”

satoru pretended not to hear, but he clearly held back his laugh. you threw the school girl who carelessly blurted that a pointed look, making her scurry away.

and after the three of you were done walking around the aquarium, you stopped by the gift shop to get your baby his first fish pet.

your son suddenly became fussy, and satoru unclasped him from the carrier. “hmm? do you want mama?” he handed him over to you. “here, here~ mama wants to hold you too~”

as soon as your son was settled in your embrace, he giggled, and you couldn’t help but bounce him and coo. “do you have fun? you do, don’t you?”

it might not visible to others, but now satoru was staring at both of his reasons of being with literal stars in his eyes.

several years ago, he thought his life had stopped when his best friend negated his beliefs entirely, but you were there, holding his hand throughout it all. and then you married him— and then, you gave him a son to dote on.

you keep giving his life a new meaning. and he was thankful for that.

. . . meanwhile, you kept hearing whispers from a gaggle of girls in the next aisle, about how much of a dreamboat your husband in his blue shirt was and it was grating at your nerves so much that you pursed your lips into a total pout.

satoru thought you were the cutest, not even second to his baby, and he decided he wasn’t known for public decency anyway so he dived in and pecked your lips—dispelling any stray thoughts and making you flush in an instant.

“sato—!”

and before you could rebuke him, he whispered in your ear:

“so... baby number two, when?”

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cashmoneyyysstuff · 4 months ago

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♡ ring pops, chocolates, proposals ! ♡

katsuki loves you throughout the years.

a/n : BOOM !! surprise extra on your foreheads !!! this is basically a lil extra to rpp from katsu n readers pov ! i thought it was cute n i hope yall enjoy it too <33 !! much luv xx

fem reader, slight anime n manga spoilers ! food (candy and chocolate), jealous katsuki, mentions of dicks bc katsuki calls someone one, katsuki n reader are in their 20s, reader loves rain, katsuki does not, proposal, kissinggg, reader likes romance (implied sligthly), katsuki does not (kinda), soft n emotional katsuki bc I LOVE HIM FIGHT MEEE!!! RAAHHH!!!, short n sweet, proposal, lmk if i missed sum else !! <33

"for you."

katsuki, age 6 stands in front of you. no more words are said from him as he looks off to the side, beet red face turned away from you with outstretched hands. and clutched tightly in his hands, a ring pop in your favourite color.

you beam, immediately taking it from him. "thank you, katsu !" you chirp, quickly popping the candy into your mouth. katsuki's shoulders relax when he sees you've taken the offering from him although he doesn't meet your eye fully just yet.

"do you wanna share ?" you ask sweetly, already reaching out your candy towards him seeing that he didn't have one of his one in hand. he furiously shakes his head, pushing your hand back towards you.

"no ! and this one's for you ! i already got one.." he insists, shoveling around in his backpack before the crinkle of a wrapper grabs both of your attention. he pulls out the bag of sweet ring pops and picks out an orange one for himself. showing it to you while his eyes drift away from yours. you smile, seeing that you can both eat candy together now.

"i-it's a ring. so..you're my wife," he states. your big eyes widen at him and his glowing red cheeks. you look back down at the candy you've been eating pressed around your finger. it's bigger than the rings you see on tv.

you like katsuki. he was a little rough sometimes, and he could be a little mean. but he always played with you and shared his coloured pencils. he'd sit in the reading corner with you and hold your hand when you'd go on field trips.

"oh, really ?" your face heats, he nods. "want you to be my wife, cus haruto's always lookin' at you..a-an' you're my friend. not his." he mumbles bitterly. you like haruto, he's nice to you, but not as much as katsuki. katsuki was your best friend.

"does that make you my husband then ?" katsuki gets red to the tips of his ears and his nose is practically pressed into the collar of his shirt but he nods anyways. you beam again, the taste of the flavoured candy still on your lips. " i like that !"

katsuki blinks at you, chubby little cheeks pulling into a smirk and he drops to sit down next to you roughly on the grass. finally popping his own ring in his mouth.

"then you're my wife, yeah ?" you nod and he grins, you hear the candy clack around his mouth. "means you're only ever gonna be with me." and you nod again happily because you like that, you like the thought of only being with katsuki, because he's your best friend ever.

"mhm !"

"..forever." he adds tentatively and when you nod again he snickers to himself.

wait till stupid deku hears about this.

valentine's day was fucking stupid. and white day was even stupider.

besides them being the corniest holidays ever, katsuki finds the whole concept stupid. why do you need an entire day just to grow the balls to tell someone you like them ? and the worst part is that some fuckers have the audacity to try that shit with you.

katsuki remembers when he'd started despising the stupid holidays. it was in his first year of middle school and you opened up your locker to see some chocolates and a hand written note.

it was cheesy. and fucking stupid. but you smiled about it.

you fucking liked it.

the bastard even had the nerve to walk up to you at the end of the day, when you're supposed to go home with katsuki and end up coming over to his house to do your homework together (so he could stare at you) then stay over for dinner and play some video games (so he could touch you, poke your sides to make you trip up and pinch your nose when you end up losing to him) or watch a movie (so he could hear you laugh)

you were supposed to be all his. but instead you reassure him that you'll be back in a second.

and katsuki's antsy and so annoyed his skin prickles, but he swallows it down and drags his feet towards the gates as he waits, like hell he'll leave you alone with some limp dick bastard.

he did feel better when you said you rejected the loser, and he felt much better when you still ended up spending the afternoon with him. but he couldn't stop thinking about it.

valentine's day and such was so fucking stupid in katsuki's eyes. but maybe you liked it ? you never cared much for romance outside of those stupid rom-coms you like, but maybe there was more to it.

katsuki couldn't admit it to himself then, but he hates the holidays because there's a whole day for him to grow some balls and ask you out. and yet he couldn't fucking do it.

until his first year at u.a. and you hand him a box of chocolates.

dark chocolate, you specified. "since i know you don't really like sweets all that much." you said. the slight tremble in your voice made him swallow harshly. it felt different than the chocolates you'd handed out to your classmates earlier (which he was absolutely not jealous about. at all.) and the sheer size of the box compared to the little baggies you'd handed spoke too.

these were different. these were just for him.

his bag feels extra heavy when he walks home that day, and he's never loved chocolate more than the day you'd made some just for him.

"the chocolates weren't bad." was all he'd texted you (he wasn't sure he'd be able to talk to you properly on the phone that day lest you heard the shakiness in his voice.) but he knew what he needed to do.

and a few months later, white day rolls around and katsuki still thinks it sucks. it's a stupid holiday. but he spent the entire day making these stupid holiday chocolates for you. and his ears burn when he tells you that he only made these for you, because you're the only one he cares about enough to make some stupid chocolates for on a holiday he hates.

and you smile, so bright and pretty and so you. and katsuki feels like he's on top of the world when you shyly kiss his cheek, your hand in his grip on your way home.

he guessed he'll have to tell his mom about this..and maybe think about thanking her.

the day katsuki plans to propose to you, it rains.

and not even regular rain, a fucking downpour.

and due to prior experiences and feelings he’s had since childhood, he fucking hates rain.

but you love it. when you were kids you loved jumping in puddles and during morning time, you were drowsier and more prone to falling asleep when it was raining. when you got older, you'd always gasp happily when it started to rain, even though katsuki scoffed every time you did, mean mugging the window. he'd asked you what you liked about rain every year you were together, because it was cold, it made the ground sloshy and slippery and it made his quirk basically obsolete when he was younger and harder to use the older he got. there was absolutely nothing fun about that. and you'd always tell him the same exact thing.

"i like it 'cus i just do." you'd respond simply. he always raised a brow at you, but let it be. he couldn't change your mind about it and that was it.

with his proposal plans down the gutter, you're cuddling bed. you yawn in his arms, the tapping against the window putting you at ease. katsuki can admit it's not ear grating, but he'd much rather it just—not rain at all. and he wishes that so much more now, stupid fucking rain..ruining his fucking plans to fucking marry you..

"why do you like this shit so much ?" he asks you the question he's been asking you for years now as you lay against his warm chest. he doesn't mean to do it, only realising he's been asking you this practically all his life after the fact. and it makes him realise how long you've been together when you calmly respond the way you always have, cheekily smiling up at him.

you stick your tongue out at him "i like it 'cus i just do."

oh. fuck.

katsuki doesn't know exactly why that sets him off. maybe because the fact you've been together for two decades makes him emotional. maybe it's because throughout all these years your answer hasn't changed and you haven't changed and your feelings haven't changed for him. you still smile up at him, you did when you were kids when he'd asked you to be his wife with those cheap ring pops he'd begged his mom to buy. you did in middle school even when he thought you had a crush on izuku for a while and it made him act in such an embarrassing way he doesn't want to remember it, but he does anyway. you smiled up at him when he'd asked you out with the chocolates he'd spend hours working on, making them perfect for you. and when he'd told you to just move in with him because "you're basically here all the time anyway."

you've always been there, and he's always loved you. since the day you'd mesmerised him so much at six years old he had to talk to his mom about you.

katsuki absolutely fucking hates rain, and he doubts that'll change anytime soon, and it ruined his perfect proposal. but he can't hear the rain in his ears anymore when he abruptly flips you onto your back to kiss you. all he hears in the tiny giggles you let out when he smacks three wet kisses onto your lips before diving in for a longer one. i love you, they say. he can only hear your fingers sneaking into his hair and scratching at his scalp and the happy sigh you let out when he runs his tongue across your lips.

"m'breath stinks," you mumble drowsily, katsuki grumbles, pulling away just far enough to tell you "i don't give a fuck." and diving in again. you squeal in surprise. it's all he hears.

"fuckin' love you." he grunts against your lips, you hum, briefly able to pull away to catch your breath to tell him you love him too, and pulling him closer to you, the rustling of your sheets, yours and his, is all he hears.

"yeah ? you love me ?" he whispers, going to nibble at your ear. he's all over you, pressing sloppy kisses along your neck and you giggle, "mhm, love you." you sigh.

"fuck.." he breathes again, bringing his face back up to yours he presses his forehead to yours "fuck—so," he places another kiss to your lips, he gulps "so marry me."

and then you blink at him "what ?" you breathe heavily, softly chuckling. and the rapid beating of his heart is all he hears, but then your eyes go glossy and you whisper, voice broken and wobbly "..what ?"

he huffs to himself, his hands search for yours and intertwine when he finds them. like the day he'd pulled you over to his mom so he could ask her to let you come over to play at his house. like when you'd offered it to him when he took you to prom and you looked more beautiful than he could ever utter. he wonders how you'd look during your wedding. he's thought about it more times than he can count.

he takes a deep breath, not pulling away "i wasn't supposed to tell you like this, fuckin rain.." he scoffs. "but—fuck, i just—you've always been there, always been with me. since i was a snot nosed fuckin' brat and at times were you shoulda left my ass." he's forgotten the shit he wanted to say, simply blurting out what's on his mind. he feels a little bad, because kirishima had helped him with his speech, but his heart beats too hard to care.

"but m'glad you didn't. m'glad you didn't before and i'm glad you haven't now 'cus i love you so fuckin' much." you let out a giggle mixed with a little sob at his constant nervous cursing and it makes him smile lightly too.

"i know there are times where i've been a pretty shit boyfriend but..but i mean it, y'know ?" he sniffs a bit, and you shake your head "you've never been a shit boyfriend, suki. just a bit of a pain in my ass sometimes," you giggle but your eyes are overflowing with tears. he chuckles and fights back tears of his own with a sniffle again.

"yeah, major pain..but even still i—when i told you i wanted you to be my wife back when we were kids, i meant it. an' when that fuckin loser tried to ask you out on valentines day in middle school, i wanted to knock his fuckin' teeth in." he smirks, and you try to hide your laugh with a gasp "wanted to tell him you were mine."

"you're such a baby. i remember how pouty you were about it."

" i wasn't pouty," he rolls his eyes, his smile doesn't disappear. he wipes away a tear about to roll down your cheek before you can get his your shirt sleeve wetter then it already is "you could've just told me back then," you whisper, holding onto the hand on your cheek and pressing a kiss to his palm. katsuki feels his heart swell.

"i should've told you a lot of shit back then," he laments. he remembers when shigaraki put holes in him and the constant flashes of you on his mind. when he woke up in the hospital and you'd been there and he just couldn't tell you those three words. he'd figured that since you were both alive, he could tell you later when shit was less..messy.

except shit kept getting messier, and then when katsuki blew a hole into his heart he'd wished he could've told you how much he loved you.

but then he had gotten another chance, another chance to be with you. to be the best damn boyfriend in the world like he'd promised you he'd be, to make you happy, and he didn't care if shit got even messier, he didn't care to be scared. when he woke up with his mom and dad, a doctor and you. everything else blurred in his mind and despite your runny nose and your mix of how much you'd missed him and how worried you were but also scolding him on how much of a dummy he was, katsuki couldn't help but smile.

his mom still teases him about how the first words that he'd blurted out after waking up from his operation getting chastised by doctors were "fuck, i love you."

"but, i won't regret not telling you shit anymore. i won't wait any longer either," he kicks out of the sheets, reaching for the lowest drawer of his nightstand to pull out a little red box, grabbing you with him and placing you down right in front of him. he kneels down on one knee, like when he used to tie your shoelaces for you because you didn't know how to, and how he does to this day because 'you want to crack your head against the side walk so bad, but i don't wanna see that shit.'

he grabs your hand, and with a wobbly voice asks you "will you marry me ?"

and finally, katsuki stops hearing his own heart beat and hears the gentle tapping of the rain, still pouring, but it puts him slightly at ease when you nod and squeal out a 'yes !'

<33

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twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat · 8 months ago

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ARI THE BINGO THING IS SO CUTE?? if you’re still doing them can you do one for me :33

RHEYAAAA MY BELOVED :3333 here is a big cup of warm tea for you … pls have a seat 🍵 I AMMM STILL DOING THEM here is yours hehe!!!

#IM PATTING YOU AND TUCKING YOU INTO BED SO GENTLY!!!!!#coaxing you into bed so u get all the sleep you need <333333 all med students should be allowed to nap during work hours i think #I LOVE YOU LOTSSS you’re soso sweet and welcoming n i love talking to you 🥺#i feel like we havent gotten the chance to rant to each other toooo much BUT !!!!! im rlly looking forward to doing so!!!!!!#i wanna hear abt your studies n interests n . sashisu thoughts :333 #the bouncing around the walls is Me whenever we interact bc i just love u very dearly <3333 #ANDDDD your writing …. sososo good. i cant wait to see more of it!!!!! 🥺🥺 i have so many of your fics on my tbr hehe #i wanna read paracosm of the gods soooo bad but i know ill cry and i . am Scared 😭 angsty geto fics make me too emotional </3 #im sooo excited to get to it tho!!! :>#AND AND!!! i think you have older sib vibes <33 bc talking to you is just always so soothing somehow!!!!#you just feel like a supportive older sis to me i think !!! :’3 and i’m always so in awe of how hard you work!!!!#ILYYYYY and im super duper happy to have you as a moot!!!! 🥺🥺🥺#ask tag ✩#rheya !! ✩

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screampied · 8 months ago

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Hii baby veygusssss<33 hoping you a nice day / night🩷🩷, so um hear me out Choso x shy reader re-creating one of p-hub most liked nor watched vid? Just a silly thought of mine hehehei feel free to ignore this. Muaaaaa😚💗

- 🧃 ( new anon, I hope it's not taken yet😞 )

꒰১ cw. fem reader, doggystyle, hair pulling, choso tries dirty talk, premature ejaculatıon, mdni.

“baby, i— i wanna do this,” choso mumbles, showing you the video that displayed across the screen. oftentimes he’d show you some positions he’d wanna try, the only ones you’ve ever done with him so far was missionary or cowgirl. his ultimate favorite out of the two—just you straddling him, staring into his eyes always makes him shudder. “can we try it?”

peering at the screen, it was a woman and a guy performing a well known prominent position. with a shy expression, you speak in a soft tone. “doggystyle? you wanna try that?”

“yeah,” he pouts, closing out of the web page before turning back towards you. the both of you were on the bed, tangled limbs keeping each other warm before he pants. “i think you would look pretty like that,” and he gulps. “i mean, you’re always pretty— but like . . on your hands ‘n knees for me, you know?”

you giggle, leaning in to kiss his cheek. “i know what you mean, baby, and okay. we can do doggy if you’d like.”

choso’s face lights up and he only grows more flustered once he sees you sit up. “okay, okay,” he tries to compose of himself, gawking openly as you lie flat on your stomach. then, you sit upright, placing the palms of your hands on the bed with your knees in place. his lips quiver, taking a three second glance at your ass. “a-and i’m gonna get behind like this, i think,” he cutely tries to remember the video. choso’s already starting to pant, shallow breaths of clouded puffs depart from his lips before he springs out his dick. he lets off a whine, staring at your pussy and how it was a bit moist from the outer entrance. “oh, it’s so wet from up close.”

“choso,” you tease, feeling yourself grow hot yourself. “any day now, baby.”

“s-sorry, sorry,” he snaps out of his erotic trance, reaching near the nightstand drawer to take out the lube bottle. he tried not to take too long, he wanted to be inside just as much as you wanted him inside also. quickly, he applies the lube in the right areas of you before focusing his attention back towards his throbbing cock. “give it a f-few pumps before going inside,” he speaks to himself underneath his breath, stroking his length once or twice. you wriggle your ass in anticipation and he only grows more abashed. you were shy just as him, although you were a bit more of an impish tease. “tell me if it’s too much, ‘kay?”

“okay, ‘cho.” you comply.

after a bit, he inches the head of his tip near your slit that’s starting to open. he’s mesmerized, his mouth slowly pries open at the sight before he’s gradually starting to sink his way in. as choso grows quiet, you let off a soft moan that makes him pause.

“baby? does it hurt? what ha—”

“choso, ‘m moanin’ because it feels good, ‘m okay i promise,” you simper in a shaky breath, leaning against your folded arms. not even facing him yet you could tell he was so big—standing tall proudly with inches underneath his metaphoric belt. “keep going.”

he gulps, nodding with a sweet, “okay,” before resuming where he left off. such thickness has your lips spreading apart,

he falls in love with the warmth that your gummy walls provides—sending him into straight nirvana.

it feels almost blissful, you squeeze against him before relaxing, he’s barely even halfway in and you already feel the elastic stretch. it’s too good, the moans that constantly let out from your mouth only makes his dick twitch more. once you let off a whine, he whines. “just a few m-more inches, princess,” he swallows—choso’s throat becomes suddenly dry and you bite your lip. so big, the way he’s so gentle to not break you was oh so cute nonetheless. “so warm.”

choso speaks in a low gruff voice, yet it’s still so whiny. your goopy walls forever cling onto him before within seconds later, you’re rightfully stuffed. he gasps, a sudden sweltering sensation waves over him once he realizes he’s buried balls deep. a few languid seconds inside your pussy and he was already losing it — the poor thing, you had him whipped.

“ugh,” he whimpers, preparing for an impactful thrust. choso’s a bit awkward, trying to remember what his eyes saw from the video as he holds your hips firmly. “gonna f-fuck you now, baby,” he mewls, and gives you a single thrust. he’s hesitant, wanting to make sure you’re okay before you’re babbling for him to not stop. a single thrust like that was purely addicting—you throb and he feels it, the way your walls constantly tease him by constricting around it.

so evil,

your ass is held up high against the bed before he starts to fuck you at a sloppy pace. sweaty thumbs of his brush against your hips as he’s holding you firmly in place, trying to maintain a decent enough rhythm. “ngh, so hot inside, feels so good,” he hiccups, feeling the very bottom of your hips tilt back. skin against skin — it feels like you’re melting against choso, it’s heavily intoxicating.

with the way your ass sticks up against him like glue, he goes crazy, feral. choso makes you spread a bit further before he’s really driving his cock into you. he makes sure his pace isn’t too fast before he lets off a melodically lewd moan. with his sculpted abs flexing, he lets off a soft whimper. “baby can- can i pull on your hair a little too?”

you giggle, nodding as you’re continuing to adapt to the feeling of being jostled against the silky bedsheets. “yes, choso. go ‘head.”

choso’s wheezy pants grow heavier and heavier, he leans up close to where he’s shoved right up close against you. with your knees widening, he grabs a good amount of your hair before giving it a soft kitten tug. “is that good?”

“baby, harder. ‘s okay, you can be a l-little rough.”

he pouts, giving you a more harder tug and you moan— leaning forward with your head lying back down between your arms. “just like that, doin’ so good baby, keep—keep going, fuuuck.”

your torso’s upright, he moans at how good you feel from the inside. choso can’t help but feel himself starting to drool a bit. your pussy was addicting in every way. you fuck back against him, rotating your hips a bit and he squeezes your right ass cheek. choso’s never really stared at your ass much, but now, that it was constantly bumping back against him—he just couldn’t look away. “m-my goddd, ‘s warm,” he pleads out, desperate for more of this feeling. you clamp down on him tightly, nerves all over his body send him shivers inside and out. choso can already feel himself start to sweat, his dick continuously reaches every orifice inside of your stuffed pussy. for a moment, he closes his eyes shut, getting hard at the rough recoil your ass smacks against his torso. it’s sexy, something within him was telling him to spank you but he wanted to ask first. “f-fuck, um . . princess? one more thing?”

“yes baby?”

“can—” he breathes through jagged breaths, slowing his pace down just a bit to rub a thumb against your hips. “can i spank you o-one time?”

“yes, ‘s okay, spank me, choso.” you moan, feeling his tip reach deeper throughout your tightening cunt.

he’s so sweet, he caresses the left cheek of your ass before giving it a spank. it jolts you forward and you let off a sweet gasp, though once he realizes you like it, he starts to spank you over, and over, and over, until you’re being more vocal than him. choso’s so in love with your voice that he could listen to it all day,

it was something about the smoothness in it. the way you whine for more in such a honeyed tone makes the tips of his ears burn. he still couldn’t fathom that he, choso kamo—was making you feel this good. but the more he starts to rut into you, the more he starts to feel something creep up. it’s sneaky—steadily arising before he feels a pool of warmth reside near his lower abdomen.

“i- i think ‘m gonna cum,” he whimpers, and he says it quickly, you feel the vein that runs down his shaft pulsate through you and your legs squeeze together for a moment. he pokes his bottom lip out, about to spank you against but he hesitates. he doesn’t wanna be too mean, so he caresses your bare cheek instead, brushing a thumb against your ass like a brush paints its canvas. “should i p-pull out?”

“i-inside, choso. inside.” you whine, and darkened brows of his raise. his mind’s racing and he’s taken aback, you want him to finish inside?

choso grips your hips with both hands, trying to remember the video before he cutely spews out a specific dialogue. “g-gonna flood your pretty vagina with my sticky cum, whore.”

and you giggle—you giggle and choso gasps.

“w-what’s funny?” he frowns, pausing his hips. “did you not like my dirty talk?”

he’s still buried deep into you from the hilt and you bite on your arm before replying. “heh, no it’s just .. nevermind,” and you have a soft smile, still not facing him. “but we gotta work on your dirty talk, baby. no one really says vagina or sticky cum.”

“…oh,” he says with his brows curling into a furrow. so cute, yet after a while, he finishes anyway.

his orgasm hits him like a truck — it’s so good that he whimpers, rocking his hips against you before feeling the drenched sloshes of oozing cum pouring into you. it’s thick, ropes and ropes of his velvety seed trickles into your sopping folds. he came a lot too, despite it being a bit early. whines welt from his mouth before he pulls out slowly, staring in revere at the way your pussy’s plugged all in. momentarily, his cum starts to dribble out and he runs a thumb down it to touch it. it’s warmth, he shudders before averting his attention back towards you, towering over you. he pants, “s-sorry, you didn’t get to finish.”

“we’re not done, silly,” you kiss the bridge of his nose where his scar lays. “and don’t be sorry. you did amazing with doggy, you’re a natural.”

choso pouts, yet grows flustered once your lips hit against the bump of his nose. “eh. but i could do better. i wanna learn how to talk dirty for you.”

“we have all the time to practice, baby,” you softly whisper, pulling him into a hug—wrapping your shaky legs around his slim waist. choso inhales, staring at you with rough pants leaving his lips every millisecond. “we’ll get better.”

he lets off a relieved sigh at how understanding you were, he lays his head against your chest, bristle hairs of his ponytails tickle against your skin before he speaks in a shy tone. “o-okay, okay but um .. can we maybe try another position i saw?”

“what is it baby?” you hum, stroking the edge of his temple in such a hypnotic way—the benign rhythm of your fingers was so soothing he found himself almost drifting off to sleep.

he had a cute smug grin. “f-full nelson.”

#★vegasbaby.#choso x reader #choso smut #choso kamo smut #choso kamo x reader #choso x you #jjk smut #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk x reader smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujustsu kaisen x reader #anime smut #female reader #🧃 anon

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gangplanksorenji · 2 months ago

Text

Sterling

Pairing: aespa’s Karina & aespa’s Winter x Male Reader

Word Count: 19,461

A/N: Hello Orenjideul! Possibly the longest, flithiest and the most boner-fueled hazed smut I have ever written (probably the most chaotic too, not gonna lie). Have fun reading this fic yereobun and I hope you enjoy this! <33

This one is dedicated to @sinswithpleasure who basically fueled me to write this kind of a WinRina fic...

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

Peers, seniors and professors—probably the three pivotal pillars where a university is commonly known for.

You’re hanging onto that belief for a long time now that everything revolves around them, and it just doesn’t help with such hierarchy you possess within your own hands. It’s just with the fact that you can’t come up to an unbiased conclusion, but who cares?

They may say it’s a great opportunity to be in your position, walking around the university with a silver spoon up in your arse? Well, you’ll say that’s a myth from the oblivious freshmans new to the block or the people thinking it’s all sunshines and rainbows but in reality, you’re in this constant state of stress and improvement that seems to get long so well yet contradicting.

You cursed yourself for the better, but it’s fine because there’s someone to lean on in times that truly tests you as a person, and maybe even yourself as your own enemy.

“Hey… you alright?” A faint voice murmurs onto your shoulders, you huffing a breath once you hear her voice, expressing your relief and that hint of anxiety.

“I don’t know honestly…” You’re stressed and in this battle with yourself, grasping the situation and fully digesting it was just a poison you’d love to get rid of. “I’m just a little rivaled if I deserve this spot or not.”

The girl’s face paints concern and doubt, patting your shoulder as soon as she hears those words alongside the reassuring words like: “Don’t say that, babe—you deserved this! Don’t be too heavy on yourself…”

She’s a girl you’d go to war for, would fight until the end of time because of how much you love her, even though it’s sometimes over the scope of things and that’s Yu Jimin, mononymously known as Karina. She’s a girl which everyone leaves in awe with her beauty, charisma and her clever mind (even though she can be silly sometimes), and a personality that’s caring and funny, truly, you’re hitting the jackpot having a girl like her.

These are true and that’s why you love her unconditionally—it’s just not that she’s possibly the most beautiful girl to ever exist in the world (honestly, you’d vouch that this is factual because her visuals are something surreal) but it’s mostly the fact on how she’s so down-to-earth and that alone makes you even fall for her more.

Her words of comfort alone can make your mind tranquil, and you adore it, even in the simplest terms.

“I know this sounds dumb, babe, but why are you feeling like this? Like right now, randomly?” It actually piques Karina, on why you’re suddenly like this. She knows that you’re in a different mood, far from your usual self with this given moment right from the start and her curiosity won’t do any better for her.

You scoff, looking at the distance. “No, I just—like, feel nervous or uneasy, I guess?”

“On what, exactly?” Karina’s eyebrows furrowed, interested in what may come out of your mouth. Even with the interest, a bright idea flashes onto her mind, supposedly knowing the roots of your nervousness.

“Let me guess, is it about Winter?” She hit the bullseye, your pupils dilating says so and it’s too late to lie right now.

“Yeah…” You scoff, Karina’s eyebrows furrowed, head shaking a little as she can’t believe you’re almost in shambles just because of a single girl.

“Oh god, I thought it was something to really worry about.” Karina laughed a little, finding the situation hilarious as you’re perplexed with her unserious demeanor.

“You’re not worried about Winter?”

“Really, her?” Karina clicks her tongue, still registering how relieved she is when she hears the name and continues to reassure you, yet this time in a playfully silly manner. “I’ve been friends with her for a while and let me tell you, you shouldn’t be bothered about her…”

Those little words help you a little, more uplifted than before as she adds, “By the way, why do you feel nervous though? And why did you mention her? Something working on with her?”

She straightforward yet still quizzical, her questions remained her interest floating in the air and it’s for you to answer it. “Uhm, like—here: we’re going to work on a project that’s been approved by the campus’ director and I feel like Winter is something I won’t be comfortable working with…”

There lies the truth: you don’t despise Winter, not even in the slightest, yet there’s a faux inkling in your brain that’s keeping you away from making yourself comfortable with her, and it’s something dumb.

“How so?”

“I don’t know, Rina…” You gave her this furrowed look, slightly shy and ultimately indecisive. “She looks intimidating and hard to approach. I may just feel the slightest bit of enthusiasm working with her.”

Karina feels something is off, analyzing your expression as it’s enough to make a conclusion: “Winter being intimidating? Come on now…”

“What?”

Karina rolls her eyes, laughing with your words and you paint a puzzled face alongside her chuckles. “Babe, don’t worry about Winter. If it’s anything, she’s cordial and approachable, just a little shy, alright?”

Right.

“Now exactly tell me the real reason why you’re feeling uncomfortable working with her.” She knows you, reads you like a book she always bothers to read.

The truth unfolds, saying everything to Karina and this is what it really meant: you deemed to your life that you’ll never interact with Winter ever again just because of a predicament. Accidentally spilling copious amounts of milk tea on her skirt months ago is enough to tell the tale—it never really got better than that, and as soon as she glared at you and angrily left the cafeteria with her backpack, you know you introduced yourself in an atrocious way. It was embarrassing to say the least, interrupting her study time because of your clumsiness was the worst thing to ever happen, even though there’s like four people who saw the mess.

You apologized on the spot and never got a reply back. You even tried to contact her but to no avail, she doesn’t really respond. Ever since, you’ve tainted a picture that she’s grumpy and there’s no way on this planet she’ll forgive you (it’s probably childish but what can you do?).

“Wait, that sounded familiar…”

“Huh, how?”

You’re constantly in this puzzled state, expecting words that can surprise you at any moment. “No, coz like—Winter said this too the other day to me and let me tell you, it’s not really a bad thing but she can’t help but feel annoyed too.”

She’s down to earth, and it hurts. If you only knew this, then it would not besmirch her image to your brain. “Also, babe, she also wanted to apologize to you because of her attitude but she didn’t seem to contact you—what a destiny, huh?”

Your face paints visible shock and delight, a little baffled that she’s actually trying to contact you. You’d love to believe that Karina’s lying, but it’s one of the things she’ll do last, barely doing it with you.

“R-Really?”

“Yeah, I can even call her right now—”

“Wait, wait, wait! Not yet!” You pout, eyebrows furrowing as you felt conflicted with the information she had given you. You don’t know what to genuinely feel—delight, relief, nervousness or embarrassment—but one thing’s for sure: you’d know Winter would be such an angel in disguise, clearly a good person all throughout.

Guess Karina’s words really shifted your view on Winter? Yes, that’s mostly her power against you.

“Why not? I am even here to sort the mess you made.”

“It’s not that, okay?” You sigh, facing her again as her cockiness is probably admirable knowing she can genuinely help you (she knows it). “I’ll just sort these things out with just Winter and I.”

You genuinely appreciate her efforts, helping you even though she sounds like it’s nothing much of a deal for her—that’s another element that you love about her, albeit her usual unserious self that’s sometimes intolerable (it’s rarely experienced, though). Even though she’s her close friend and having a supposedly close relationship, you wouldn’t need her to tolerate the fear of being beside Winter because of your own battles within yourself.

This time, you’ll establish a greater relationship with her and you’ll do that for the sake of making such an ambitious project possible, leaving no doubts nor regrets.

---

Yes, it’s ambitious and clearly, a lot is on the line, especially your reputation as the highest member in the council and the stakes are even higher considering you're working with a person that’s an integral part of the council, another linchpin, as they say. You’d wonder why the director chose the both of you to possibly lead this proposal, but you’ll soon hope to leave those questionable thoughts in the gutter.

Luckily for you, you'll meet Winter again for like the third time (this time, it’s influenced by Karina and you thank her for that even though you said you won’t need her, yet you lied.), and hoping to talk through something to make yourselves truly comfortable with each other.

You tap your foot, fidget your fingers as you wait for her, looking at the distance in hopes for her appearance sooner.

“Uhm, hi? Hi…” You looked onto your shoulder, bowed at each other, a little startled with the blonde fingure’s appearance and she seemed to be slightly bubblier than your last two meetings with her, and it’s probably the sole reason for Karina's effect with her words in accordance with you.

She’s no doubt, really shy yet actually approachable—guess she is breathing a different set of fresh air and you won’t even complain. “You, uhm… probably know why you’re here.”

You’re a little uneasy, teeth shivering a little as she nods, then appears that cute little pout that you find adorable in a way. “To talk about something?”

“Right.”

“Right.” Winter fixes her seat, you clear your throat and do the same thing as her, and now, you regain confidence and lock eyes to her.

“I—uhm, yeah… I really want t—”

“No!” It was clear, falling onto your ears and you’re awkward within this given moment until she continued. “I should be the one apologizing… so I’m sorry for what's been with me for the past days.” Winter falls onto this shy demeanor of hers, flashing a coy smile while still maintaining eye contact with yours and deeply, you’re convinced.

Not really convinced in the way of knowing it’s all her fault (the incident was yours to blame) but in a way of convincing yourself that she’s this captivating to look at. You shouldn’t be distracted, your attention invested in taking this seriously but you just can’t just brush off the fact that she’s beautiful.

“No, no, this is bad—Karina’s gonna kill me—just talk with her and nothing else.” And so you did, fighting the urge of just being in awe with such a woman.

“Uhm—yeah, it’s fine, Winter… I’m sorry too if I just ruined your day back then—”

“No!”

“No?” You’re confused, questioning why she would say a confident “no”. She looks away, off the distance as she felt that her confidence fazed you, keeping her mellow voice audible again after such an enthusiastic approach.

“I mean you did but like—I shouldn’t have brushed you off like that…”

You inch yourself a little closer, leaning an elbow onto the table and painting a smile, it’s growing and becoming more sincere and it reassures her, little by little. “Thanks, I’m sorry if I—like, introduced myself in such a bad way.”

Winter laughs and it’s contagious, doing it too at your own end as she tucks her blonde locks behind her ear, her eyes sparkling in interest and totally surging with keenness. “Hah… You know, actually, uhm—hoo… I found that a little hilarious.”

You clear your thoughts, raise your eyebrows and assess if you really heard her right—in fact, you really did and you just can’t fathom how she found such an embarrassing event would spark such little entertainment. “What do you mean, Winter?”

Winter sighs, looking down and possibly regretting what she said and it doesn’t help with your tone a little raised up (you’re not angry but at her end, she doesn’t like this and thinks the other way). “No, I-I don’t mean it in a bad way! Like, maybe a little bit but honestly, I felt a little bad too…”

She coats her embarrassment with words you can’t be sure if she’s sincere about or not, but one thing’s for sure, that she’s actually a great person to be with. You can feel how she’s like more vocal—Karina said that Winter isn’t much of a person that talks that much, and she also does it whenever she feels comfortable—and you like it and knowing she’s still hinting that miniscule shyness, you reassure her that you’re not mad about anything, but rather even finding your predicament a little hilarious too.

Guess the both of you are getting too comfortable with each other too fast than what you’ve expected.

“Not much of a thing?”

“Yes, Winter.” You grin, letting her know that what happened from the past prior to this moment wouldn’t be a hindrance in order to develop a friendly relationship with Winter, especially in these times where you’re going to experience working with her. You extend your arm a little onto the table as she eyes it, taking it as a move signifying your comfort. “Looking now, I think we’ll work well together.”

She’s probably fluttered hearing your words, hinting a faint blush onto her cheeks and looking down with the sudden surge of joy hitting her and of course, still sheepish. “I’m flattered you think that way.”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

Winter paints that set of her dulcet smiles that you would grow accustomed to love because of how vibrant they are—you swear to god, her smiles alone can make your day better, alongside Karina’s too, of course. “I don’t know—everything feels much better right now that we’re just talking face to face.”

“And not with the pressure of anyone?” You assume that she felt much more comfortable with you knowing there’s no one around that will possibly judge or interrupt the both of you, compared to the last two meetings with the influence of the director and the people involved with this project. Also, as Karina said, Winter isn’t much of a first-initiative kind of girl and is often shy, so you wouldn’t blame her for being like the opposite of herself right now and you find this confidence of her amusing and great.

“I do think so…” Winter nods, knowing that having all eyes onto both of you and the others really defeats the purpose of being assured but knowing how this personality of hers can be her bane is enough to make yourself vocal about that judgment of yours. “But I do think that you should get used to this—like this kind of environment.”

Winter sighs, then averted her eyes back to yours. “Karina-unnie has been saying that too and yeah, I should consider that.”

“You know, Winter, it still baffles me that you’re friends with Karina.”

Winter’s mouth is ajar, a little shocked with your words. “Oh, how so?”

“I don’t really know but like, she barely talks about you whenever we’re together and is it the same at your end? If you don’t mind though.”

You could sense that she probably doesn't mind it and that’s a sigh of relief. Her amicable tone sets off the mood right, and that’s what matters. “I mean it’s pretty bare too, but I knew you before… like when you’re still in the lowest positions in the council.”

You’re piqued and nodded with Winter’s enlightenment. Knowing this conversation will stir away to the supposed reason why the both of you are here, you let her know that and you’re just grateful that the two of you are getting comfortable with each other, and realized that the saying of “don’t judge the book by its cover” is always evident and factual.

“Uhm, by the way, about the uhm… the project we’re working on, I thought about an idea on how we can start it.”

Winter’s eyes sparkle in utter investment of her attention towards you, tilting her head and smiling as she mutters, “I actually have something in mind too but, lead the way, please.”

Maybe it all falls down to this moment, and you can’t wait what this day has in store for you. You never anticipated something so positively summarized for a conclusion, but of course, you’ll take these small victories and let yourself be invested with this ambitious endeavor.

---

You never knew how Winter and you could be so comfortable with each other, establishing a robust relationship after the both of you part ways and it ends up on a greater note, finally getting her number and having a greater contact than ever before. Of course, boundaries need to be tolerated and it's further shown by her, knowing how respectful she is because of her awareness between you and Karina.

And it’s not like Winter’s that type of a homewrecker, but you could never be so sure since you barely knew her. Albeit all of that, you protest to the thought that Winter’s going onto that route, her modest and friendly personality says so and you could feel how genuine it is.

Well, it is a great day but nothing’s going to fulfill such greatness without laying your eyes on indisputably, the most beautiful person that ever walked on this earth, inches away from her and you’re captivated with her presence whenever she’s around.

Her voice resonates around your ear, and instantly, you curled up a smile. “Long day?”

You sip on your drink, then let out a sigh with her words. “Possibly, yeah…”

Karina sees this as something that can be considered alarming, your sighs deep enough to make her think of an assumption that you’re probably lying. “You alright? You seem like, pft… unsatisfied.”

“Okay, honestly, I’m just tired and I’ll be like this most of the time…” Karina understands this, with your current responsibility with such a hierarchical position deems such exhausting endeavors possible. You’re grateful for having a thoughtful girlfriend like her who perceives things thoroughly, and you’ll be thankful with that. “Anyways, this flavor rocks by the way—what flavor is this?”

“Dark mocha frappe—just how you like it, babe…” You smile knowing these small victories are wholesome, even knowing how you like your frappes is a great thing.

“I owe you something then, no?” Karina’s mouth is agape, shocked and playfully becomes mad, feeling her efforts aren’t taken seriously by you. You then laughed with her frisky retorts, her face painted with little annoyance and shocked is such a sight to see, further teasing her as she replies. “No! Yah, why do you think like I’m owing you something most of the time?”

You sip, humming in satisfaction with the strong, sweet taste as you laughed right after. “Sometimes, I just feel like it but anyways, thanks, Rina.”

Karina’s demeanor shifted into those glowing eyes of hers, in awe with your amicable words that made her a little shy. “Anyways, how’d it go, babe?”

You paused for seconds, taking another sip as you flash a smile, full of vanity on how the events unfolded and she knows exactly what you’ll say. “Pretty great, honestly—never knew Winter would be such a great girl to talk with.”

Karina continuously stirred her light-colored frappuccino, sipping on it and then faced you, mouthing the words, “Told ya, she’s a great girl.”

She places the cup onto the marbled table, approaching you and palms your shoulder with a caressing touch and she continues. “Glad my girl’s doing well, honestly—this is such a great opportunity for her, and for you.”

Then Karina’s eyes dart onto yours, a breath brushing against your lips as she smirks, and you know that her façade is possibly ambiguous right now. “Why get too dangerously close, Rina?”

Karina chuckles, eyes off the distance then back to yours, her tone a little interrogative. “Is it just bad for me to feel happy for the both of you, hm, babe?”

“Right, Rina…” You’re a bit sarcastic, as she pulls away a little bit, and retorts playfully against you.

“Yah! Anyways, I just missed being this close to you, y’know?” You can sense how much she missed these intimate and wholesome moments with you, probably neglecting these because of your own endeavors which seem to not meet its demise. You’re subtly complaining, but it’s now a part of you, so you will bear with it and live with your responsibilities as a hierarchical linchpin.

You won’t miss out on chances like this, opportunities lingering within your hands’ reach is a must. “I missed this too, Rina.”

Tilt her chin and then you indulge onto that apotheotic act—lips clashed onto yours; tongues tangled as its carnal instinct. Every second that counts delves deeper into killing that deprivation that roamed all over your bodies, and instantly, found that longing gem that’s been buried for quite some time—satisfaction.

She brought the light of your dying star, and you’re welcoming her abilities to bend the laws of physics—normally, this sounds impossible and immoral, yet ambiguously speaking, she can probably ignite that feeling again.

“Kiss me more—kiss me more, baby…” Pecks and its resonating sounds fill the air, the love emanating all throughout sets up the mood vibrantly and you got to thank Karina for that.

You just reciprocated, can’t be bothered to translate your feelings through words and she succumbs to the feeling. Your lips pepper hers just right, insatiable with the way you run your expertise and cupping her cheeks is a great leverage. Her hands just roams its way onto your waist, tracing your abdomen then inadvertently (there’s a high chance it’s not), she hikes up the hem of your shirt until you stop her.

“Calm down for a second, Rina.”

“But I can’t, baby…” She wants it, but there’s more ways to do it before achieving such a climax, and you’re voicing it out with no hesitation.

“Let us finish these foods and drinks first, no?”

Karina pouts, an audible hml can be heard as she knows you have a valid point. “Fine then, but after this, we gotta dive for more.”

You chuckle, knowing where this will descend into. “Whatever you want, my love.”

Karina’s eyes just widened with your given name towards her, and you knew you picked her locks with it.

“Clever minds could bear such blessings in the smallest things.”

---

There’s nothing denying this, not even God himself—you’re way too in love with Karina. It’s such a blessing getting yourself in a position where you can be intimate with your movements, peppering her with kisses up to her abdomen or even going over the roof. Yet now is just full of warmth, her embrace against yours is something you’ll cherish, even engaging into deeper, warmer cuddles as her head rests onto your shoulder.

“It’s going to be a big event tomorrow, ain’t it, babe?”

“Not really, big, but like—” You tuck her hair behind her ear, endeared with her beauty as you can't help but just be in awe but you continue. “—mostly a crucial part for us, probably.”

The both of you are under the covers, feeling each other’s heat and the lingering feeling of the attachment she’s been longing for, caressing her hands onto your bare skin and moaning a little with her enchanting and sensitive touch. You let Karina go berserk, suckling onto your collarbones and your neck, kissing it with a renowned fervor and her actions just makes you feel something that you’re possibly dying to feel in a long while. “You know babe—mwah, hm, thinking of that, we should probably hangout or some sort…”

You paint that puzzled face, averting her attention towards you with a touch on her shoulder and is eager to clarify what she’s trying to say. “What do you mean? We’re hanging out right now, no?”

Karina chortles, hands now roaming onto your arms as she replies, “Not that babe… I’m thinking about us with Winter.”

That name just becomes a ring onto your brain, and you ultimately poised yourself in a different approach whenever she calls that name out. “Why involve Winter with this? What are you try—”

Karina shushes you with a finger, your eyes widening with her actions as her reassuring tone calms your mind. “Come on, just trust me, babe—think of this as a way for the both of you to be more comfortable with each other, okay?”

The emphasis is clearly something underlying suspicion, but nonetheless, you know Karina wants the best for both worlds, and it’s up for you to seal the deal. She still maintains eye contact with you, chin resting against the upper part of your sternum as her eyes glisten with anticipation, an anticipation with your words needing to complete the puzzle.

“So, what do you say?”

You scoff, rolling your eyes as you gaze back to her. “Promise me this isn’t something I will be worried about, alright?”

Another chuckle, and Karina’s confidence fades your uneasiness. “Why would I make you feel like that? Of course not.”

You trust her, you ultimately do and she knows she won’t let yourself be in the brink of harm or anything that can make you feel anxiety. “Okay then, I’d love to see your dynamics with Winter too…”

You both laugh faintly, as she kissed your collarbone and averted those orbs of hers towards yours for the umpteenth time. “Oho, there’s a lot and gosh, I’m excited for tomorrow…”

You yawn, almost burying yourself onto the pillows that signifies your drowsiness. “You know, I should probably sleep now, Karina—tomorrow’s a long day.”

“For both of us too…” Karina adds, and her hands tuck your hair behind your ear, then muttering the words, “Good night, baby.”

“Good night too, Rina.” You kissed her on the lips again, and then pulled away, matching her energy as she laughed and became more flustered because of it.

“You know that I love you so much, right, babe?”

“Of course, I love you too—like, so much, Rina.”

You pulled her into another torrid kiss, her hands finding your neck as you indulged for more and god, this felt like it would never stop, until dawn.

Not going to lie, whatever happens tomorrow, you’ll look forward to it and you’re reassured knowing it’s Karina within your side. A great way to end this day is probably another animalistic approach and you can’t be bothered to make yourself deprived with that.

Or is it?

The night is still young, and limits are still onto the horizon on what’s possible to do…

---

It was one hell of a night, mostly in the excitement of missing each other’s intimate presence and the little bonds that you’d take as a win. You’ll eventually receive texts from Winter which you eagerly responded to, feeling butterflies whenever you reply and it’s one of the best things to happen nowadays.

You’re getting ready for the first milestone on this day, and the best way to encounter a nuisance is a buzz from your phone, coming from Karina.

katarina_for_u at 13:14 - “I’ll be just meeting the both of you outside the university’s grounds, ok?”

You’re a little surprised, knowing she probably has a class at this given time frame, and possibly ending before the sun settles.

You reply, “Don’t you have a class right now?”

You wait for a little while, before you can see Karina typing again and anticipating her answer.

katarina_for_u at 13:15 - “Well, it’s actually postponed and ㅠㅠ I forgot to say it to you…”

You won’t mind that honestly and see it as an absolute win. You never felt those little triumphs in you once she texted that, and you could never start yourself standing so proudly. You didn’t mind it that much once she said that she never told you about it, so you replied back only for another notification popping up onto your phone and that averted your attention.

kim_winter at 13:18 - “Hi! I’ll be waiting for you in the AVR, the right side of the seats, a little in front. See you!”

These girls have their own appeal and you’re just in shambles with it. Winter’s amicable tone when texting is something adorable, you may even say it’s opposite to what you’ve thought of her prior to yesterday’s meeting. You can really sense growing that attachment towards her within your friendly relationship with her, and that’s all that matters, whether it’s benefiting inside the university or solely just expanding your circle.

And it’s just great for your popularity and how you’ll see things—clearly, knowing a lot of people will help you with improving your social skills and the way you approach them, or even strangers.

Yet the circle is mostly sequestered between the three of you, concealed from the others and you’ll live with that most of the time.

You reply back to Winter while brushing your teeth, and you look at yourself in the mirror, feeling that confidence in you and the trust within you on what this day can offer.

Really, you’re just in the tip of the iceberg…

---

“Never knew there’ll be so many people in here, Winter.”

Winter bites her lips, playing with her lips as she nods slowly. “Yeah, and it’ll be a long one too…”

You could already sense the boredom laced within her voice, and it’s going to be the battle on who’s going to be utterly invested at the of the event (not going to lie, you’ll probably will be interested in this but you wouldn’t lie to your teeth to say this won’t delve down onto such ennui).

Your eyes wander around the people that’s taking their seats and the people working behind the scenes of the event. You do that for a few more seconds, then check on your phone and then scroll onto the endless blue light it emits, then at the end, earn a smile or possibly, a faint chuckle.

Winter then interrupts you with a light tap onto your shoulder, and immediately, you turn off your phone and shift your attention to her. “Anyways, did Karina tell you something about us three like—hanging out or some sort?”

You fake a cough, covering your mouth with a tight fist as your eyes widen, amused with the fact that she’s also aware of what’s going to happen after this (Karina and her have connections, so it’s not surprising to bear such news to the very least). “Yeah, yeah—actually she said it first to me and had that first thought but like…”

You produce this vacuum-like sound, which can be considered tinnitus or some sort and then bite your lip as Winter anticipates, “Like what?”

You scoff, averting your eyes to her, “Like do you really like this? Like, if you would hang out with us, would you?”

Winter hitches a breath, scoffing too as she feels like your question sounds a little dumb since the answer is probably obvious. “Tch, o-of course! You know, I really wanted to know more about you and Karina is such a great friend to hang out with—I can just see ourselves in a win.”

Totally convinced right from the start of her tone, you nod slowly and have yourself some peace of mind, knowing Winter is eager to do this.

This coursing sensation within you distracts you, and it’s like a bugbear you can’t seem to get rid off—and still, the peace of mind is still faux. This is risky for a girl like her to know such things you want to address, even if it’s some sort of an enigma that has some double meaning. Your mind is shouting at you to do it and with the fire in you ready to burst out, you knew it was time but you’re going to play safer.

“Winter…”

“Yeah?” She continued viewing her eyelashes onto her phone, and then averting those alluring eyes of hers to you.

“You know Karina’s one hell of a girl, y’know?” Your eyes feel weightful, head tilted by a little and weirdly enough, she’s piqued on what you’re trying to imply.

“Like in what way?... Like something crazy, wild or—”

“That!” You exclaim a little-too-loud as you paint a sheepish façade, and then brushed off when no one possibly hears your tone’s ebullience. “Sorry, like that—oh gosh, how would you know?”

Winter’s face is confused, but eventually, got the grip on what hit your buttons. “So wait… her being wild? Am I right?.... Like…”

“Yeah, that, actually…” You feel a little ashamed of why you’re bringing this out, and eagerly apologize. “God, I’m sorry for bringing this out…”

Winter’s hands roam to your shoulder, reassuring you that it’s not really that taboo at her end. “Oh no no, actually, Karina-unnie’s other side is pretty common on my end too…”

Honestly, right now, you’re fucking shocked on how she is straightforward, composed and not even disgusted to the slightest. You felt yourself on the edge of a cliff but saved with how she took this possibly embarrassing conversation effortlessly. You sighed in relief and your curiosity’s at an all-time high right now.

“Oh wow, I thought you'd be like weirding out—”

“Oh, hah…” Winter scoffed, rejuvenating herself with a light shake of her head, eyebrow raising and then down, as she continued, “Maybe if it’s the other girls, then probably that will end there but not me…”

You don’t know why, but you admire her composed demeanor and you love it. Your mouth is slightly ajar, still rendering how she’s taking this so calm. “You don’t mind if I ask how often she’s sharing something like this?”

“Honestly, it’s pretty rare and please don’t get mad if I say something like this, alright?”

You fixed your posture, cleared your throat, welcoming every word that comes out of her mouth with open arms. “It’s fine, you can share it, Winter.”

“She talks about you, on those given times too…”

Oh god, you were expecting it in the slightest, but you’re still baffled with that given fact and it’s evident with the gasp you let out.

“Gosh, I’m so sorry—god, please don’t—just keep this thing within us three, okay?” You’re a little weary, nervous too with the fact that Winter knows the factual sin between you and Karina but she assures you that everything’s going to be fine.

“I can assure you every secret with me is safe, and I will never tell anyone about this thing you’re having with Rina-unnie.”

At least she’s something to rely on with her given words, at least, for what you heard. “Ohh… glad it’s tight shut for anyone to know.”

“Truly, truly.” You should start and trust her, gain that building faith towards her and this is a great start and the best part here is her genuine approach.

Even if it’s just this quick for the both of you to be too comfortable, it’s just in the right pace considering having attachments with Karina eased both of your socializations with each other.

You just pray to god that the secret never sees the light of day. Hopefully…

---

Sun’s starting to set, hours have been spent on something that’s probably helpful, to the very least knowing that you've learnt something and it goes the same with Winter. Your lazy ass wouldn’t appear onto these kinds of events if you weren’t having a name for yourself.

But those flew away from the fabric of time, and all that matters is between the three of you and what Karina has in store for the both of you. You walk with Winter out of the halls of the conference building and onto the parking lot, escorting her and you immediately give her the green light to be your passenger for this night.

“You sure you don’t mind?”

You scoff, “Of course, Winter—you gotta go to the backseat though, if you don’t mind it.”

“Of course, it’s not much of a deal—thanks anyways.”

These small things of appreciation makes your heart flutter, and you’re liking her even more—her respect towards you grows exponentially, and it’s an element you’d grow accustomed to adore.

You open the door, and let her in like a princess as she playfully remarks, “Oh~ thank you… such a gentleman.”

“Small thing, Winter.” You can see the evident fluster up her cheeks, and you took it as a genuine reply with your actions.You closed her door and got up to your seat as a ding piques your attention.

katarina_for_u at 18:03 - “Fetch me at the resto just meters after the first turn of the university gates. See you, babe ;)”

It’s short and sweet, enough to curl your lips up to a genuine grin. You let Winter know about this, and she just nodded with that ramping vigor, feeling faintly excited with what’s going to happen.

You’re forming this judgment of thrill, anticipation in an all time high.

You’d expect the best to come and it’s yet to extract that ingenuity within you, an emotion sincere.

---

So, everything was just according to her plan? Walking together around and then ending it up with some nice dinner in some classy restaurant was something she was planning? Well, it surely won’t end so anticlimactic even though you enjoyed the talks you had with these beautiful women—some are engaging, little-to-no chances of dull topics and enjoyed it all throughout.

It was pretty tiring right now but not when you’re around them—you feel this surge of energy coursing within you everytime, filling up your tank.

“Oh, unnie’s choices are amazing. From food to places, wow…”

Karina laughs with Winter’s subtle compliments even though some are probably laced with sarcasm, and you laugh with their playful banters and conversations while keeping your focus on the road. How could they act such dorks and be so unserious when they look like the most modest people that had walked on this planet—maybe, the dualities do wonders and it’s such a great contrast.

“You don’t have to wear something so elegant, Rina.”

“Why not?” Karina’s tone is uplifting, curious on why you would ask such a thing. “This is not even that elegant, but just enough for something classy…”

“Unnie’s probably making herself look more beautiful for you.” Winter adds to the spice of the conversation, which she felt proud with and chuckled right after. Karina’s probably blushing right now with what she had said and given the enlightenment, she’s probably riding with that motive.

Karina pretends to be annoyed with Winter’s remarks, and keeps the vibe lively and delightful as possible. “Yah! I just wanted to dress like this, don’t you like it?”

You’re not going to lie, in every outfit she wears, she kills it everytime and there’s nothing she can’t pull off because of how she’s a natural breed in the world of fashion but you stand with what you said—this looks way too classy but you’re not complaining, she even looks stunning and surreal with this outfit.

“Well, I guess there’s something we needed to do to conclude this day.”

Both you and Winter’s faces contort onto this bewildered expression, utterly curious too as you asked what’s on her mind.

“Well, I’m thinking we’ll stay at your place for the night—you know, to have some fun, haha…”

That chuckle is nothing close to being innocent. You and Winter probably know this other nature of Karina, and you know this fun she’s describing is involving something that’s off the charts.

You’re hesitant and didn’t lose your focus, a little perplexed why Karina would choose your place for the three of you to stay. “I don’t know, Karina—if you’re pulling up something again, it’ll better to your—”

“Please, babe?” Her tone is enough to make yourself feel endeared and mostly, convinced. Gladly, you can’t see her doe eyes pleading for you or else, you could have lost it and given in immediately—either way, you’ll eventually fall for her spell because she’s that irresistible.

“Okay, it’s fine—but whatever you have in mind, there’s no turning back, alright?” You plant this mischievous smirk curling up your lips and immediately, she knows what you’re talking about even though it wasn’t anything straightforward.

It’s the lust that powers her, and inadvertently, you steal glances with Winter on the front mirror, raising both eyebrows as she knows what’s up with Karina’s plans.

“Of course, well you gotta get that beast ready.”

Right, like you thought about earlier.

---

Events unfolded like the speed of light and it’s deemed to be factual, as actions could make time flow faster than usual. Now at your place, there wasn’t much of something with an introduction and only so subtly. Winter eyes your place and commends how simple and neat everything is and as usual, Karina was frankly remarking everything you needed to know, and how Winter is something more than what you already thought—also, it was clear that she was still naïve with what’s underlying the real thing and everything behind it.

Winter’s shy with Karina’s boldness and she’s not denying anything. All of your assumptions of Winter being just like any other girl was fading as soon as Karina unravels her other nature.

It was a bold and a truthful assumption from your side, clearly thinking that she was all innocent but you never thought the fact her duality can be deceiving. You can’t blame yourself to think Winter just has the same energy as Karina, and the stars could never align so perfectly. You’re also lost within the thought, touching Karina intimately, hands running down her waist as you handle her with that ramping aggression until she stops and inches herself away from you.

Of course everything starts with a little hint of spice, their dispositions clearly shifting and you assure yourself that you’ll get used to both of them being in their own nature with their given sides.

“Care to eye for some starters, Winter?” Karina raises an eyebrow, clearly willing for an aid to her fantasies.

Winter is thinking, lost in the thought deeply as seconds come by until she parts her lips, “I would want some, yes…”

You thought she wouldn’t care for that, but a visual representation would be the safer bet as echoing what’s said earlier, she's still clearly oblivious about the real thing, assuming the lack of her knowledge of how these things work.

She wouldn’t be up in the ranks if it weren’t for her intelligence, so that assumption was deemed to be proven false.

Karina kneels, looking at you, through your soul as she talks to you about it. “Don’t cum that fast, I’m going to put on a show for Winter here.”

You chuckle, clearly letting herself get ahead and over, and subconsciously admiring her playful intent. “Bold for you to assume that, huh?”

Karina’s mischievous grin was the last thing she flashes you before she could get onto work. The air permeates the cool breeze but is later rivaled with her hands onto your boxers, finger twirling onto your conspicuous tent teasingly. She wouldn’t waste such precious time just to tease a man like you and to her own defense, you’re clearly insatiable.

Both up to the like, every second is golden and shouldn’t wasted—

Karina pulls your boxers down, and down to your ankles they go and kick it off just to the side, deeming it worthless and just a nuisance with your aching tent. You coo with the coldness and moan once she places her hand onto your vigorated length, clearly stroking it to elevate the pleasure.

“Look, Winter…” Karina strokes you in need, spitting onto your cock as every twist and dexterous movements is taken down as a note by Winter, and you can just see her eyes shine with lust and amusement. “See what I’m doing? You just need to rile things up first.”

And she didn’t miss.

Karina’s tongue swirls around the red-purplish crown, and a shudder is your response as well as a faint moan that strokes her ego and a signal of approval. She withdrew her touch from yours and faced Winter, “Your bright mind would take notes of these without my words, hm?”

Karina’s tone wakes Winter up from her not-so-apparent trance of drool, looking at her with such adorable and innocent intent as a nod follows. “Yes, I can, Rina…”

“Call me your unnie for now, would you?” Her face exudes utter seduction, clearly built to be like a charismatic vixen while she asks Winter about this little name-calling.

Winter nods and Karina curls up a satisfied smirk. “Good… Also, just ask my boyfriend what do you want to call him.”

You’re a little perplexed, unable to even be a step ahead of how you want to be addressed for this moment and with a conclusion, you’d like to see Winter try.

Winter’s eyes expand by a little, hands fidgeting the hem of her jacket as you know how shy she is, given how Karina’s actions are making things awkward but she manages to not let those battles be a hindrance. “How do you want to be called?”

You gulp and try to clear your mind, possibly fighting the urge to moan with Karina’s enervating touches while talking to Winter. “Just call me daddy, okay?”

Winter’s eyes are alluring and those scintillations proved that fact, and you smirk with her apparent nod and with her coy smile. You find your hands combing and caressing Karina’s hair as she slobbers all around your length, hungry and desperate to put a memory for Winter that she would remember until the end of time.

You don’t need to invest into some extensive research to know if Winter’s enjoying this, her subsequent lip bites and eyes laser-focused onto the bobbing figure is enough evidence.

Karina’s supreme display of talent shows and she knows how to get it done. Picture this, crystal clear: She’s alternating between strokes onto your base and furious bobs, the incredible stimulation of your balls with her hands and the lathered drool seeping out of the caldera of her mouth and all over to her pants.

The nigh-absence of gag reflex makes the sight even more hotter (the numerous blowjob sessions with her helped a lot) as it allows for more opportunities to display her limits, and so she does.

She’s taking you fully, nose flushed onto your lower abdomen and closing her eyes, testing how far and long she can be in this state. It’s probably eight or ten seconds that had passed and she’s not pulling out, and you decided to do the little game of asphyxiation. Her hands grip your thighs for leverage, nails digging deeper as you pinch her nose, blocking her airways.

It stays for a few more seconds until she’s flushed red, and the inevitable is bound to happen: pulling out of your length and gasping desperately for oxygen.

“Hah—w-what are you doing?” Karina’s visible frustration sends you chuckling, and you reassure and let her know something.

“Don’t you always want that, Rina?”

“God—” Karina hitches a breath, clicking her tongue and she looks up at you, eyes in contact with laced vexation. “—don’t do that! I’m putting up a show for Minjeong here!”

“Hey, uhm—it’s totally fine…” Winter butts in, putting up a halt on an escalating argument as you and Karina’s eyes widen, interesting with the fact that she wants these kinds of stuff.

“You don’t mind the little asphyxiating play?” You ask her, a little bothered by the fact she probably doesn’t like the fetishes. “I’m sorry if it’s—”

“No, it’s really fine!” Winter’s reassuring and bubbly tone makes you conclude up the final verdict, and a sigh leaves your lips regarding that. “I wanna see from you daddy, and Rina-unnie…”

Karina’s hands stroke your rock-hard shaft as the sudden action makes you avert your attention towards her, and her expressions just signifies hubris. You let her know Winter’s wants, and you don’t want it unattended. “You heard her, Rina.”

Karina hisses, and smiles faintly, directing towards Winter. “Use your words, Winter.”

“Please unnie, suck him off.” You heard it loud (mostly it’s faint, but who cares) and clear yet Karina has other plans.

“Can’t quite hear you princess…”

Winter gulps, parting her lips as she raises her voice, “Please suck daddy off, unnie! Want to see everything and your skills, unnie s-so—please!”

This egotistic slut. When in bed, Karina’s becoming a totally different person, gone are her bubbly and loving personalities once she gets to feel or even see your throbbing cock and it’s such an unbreakable spell.

Knowing Winter’s words is sincere enough, Karina won’t let her deprive off her needs of a tutorial as she takes you in, slowly and sloppier than ever.

A clench, she grips you tighter. A touch, she gives more. A moan, she ups the pace. It’s a given cycle, a wheel spinning around, repeating the patterns that you could never get tired of.

You’re lost under her control yet Winter’s voice piques your attention. “Daddy, why doesn’t unnie gag that much?”

Well, the conclusion is mostly approved—she wasn’t so naïve about these things, huh?

Your groan, taking a second before you could respond, “Well, Winter—your slutty unnie right here has been blowing my dick for numerous times that she just grew accustomed to it.” Your eye contact with Winter was something enchanting, genuinely delightful seeing how interested Winter is before averting your attention again to the slobbering picture of Karina impaling her throat with your entire length. “You see the way she bobs her head, taking me down fully? That’s how you know she’s a slut for my cock.”

Even if Karina protests, truth is too powerful to be hidden and she wouldn’t pull out to your permeating succulence just because she wants to retaliate in words.

Karina just dugs deep, messier and god, the sight is turning Winter on so much—knees meeting each other, feet apart as her face just defines lust with the sight.

Curiosity still imbues through Winter, willing to learn from the both of you. “Gagging is just normal when you’re inexperienced, right, daddy?”

You nod, a reassuring action that lets her know about the wonders of such a show. “It’s completely normal—fuck, right, yeah it’s normal, Winter.”

Winter nods as her eyes continue to watch Karina with her oral expertise, pleasuring you with such talent that you can’t define how stupendous she is when she’s on her knees. As much as you like to probably paint her throat white, or the immediate besmirchment of that angelic visage of hers, Winter is the star here and Karina is just a tool for learning.

You tap Karina’s shoulder, and she obliges quickly, knowing how she shouldn’t be rewarded right after. Karina just stands up, looking at you as you giggle, marveling with the fact she did put up one hell of a show for Winter. “You’ll get your reward later, Karina.”

Karina parts her mouth, shaped like an ‘O’ as her eyebrows are raised from the shock. “You know it’ll be better for Winter right here—you’ve rewarded me plenty of times already…”

Karina’s confidence is through the roof, and it’s just a great recipe to be a mentor for an inexperienced Winter.

“Come here, Winter.” Winter stands up from her seat, coming closer to the both of you as immediately, Karina commanded her to kneel down in which she obliges. “You can take it easy first, and when you feel like diving for more, let yourself be, is that clear, Winter?”

Winter nods, pouting her lips as she looks up to you and then, towards her. “Mhm, yes, unnie.”

“Good.” Karina pats Winter on the head, caressing those blonde locks of hers and Karina averted her attention to you, straightforward and clearly leaning for you to handle Winter with care. “And you, use your words, okay? Minjeong likes being praised—strokes her ego definitely, hm?”

You smirk, hubristic towards Karina’s remarks, “Of course I am, and you Winter—” You caress her porcelain cheeks, admiring those innocent face of hers, as she looks up to you, clearly hungry and shy yet you have faith with what she can bring to the table. “—you’ll do great, have trust in you.”

Winter analyzes your length, eyeing every inch as she blows nervous breaths because of what she’s going to be tackling. You saw this and reassured her with your actions of playing with those pigtails, and Karina vocalizes her assurance through words. “You got this Winter, trust yourself.”

A simple nod is what it took before she took a hold of your shaft, from the base and got herself ready for what’s bound to happen. She parts her lips, kissing the head of your cock and you moan with the sensitivity she brings. She alternates between licks and kisses which eventually became redundant, and you wouldn’t complain since you wanted Winter to be comfortable around your length.

She takes your full tip, Karina motivating her with such praise that was evident with the way she works around you. “Great start, Winter, great fucking start.”

Winter hums, vibrations sending waves of gratification all over you as she dives in deeper, then bobbing her head with such a slow pace that you wouldn’t mind. She closes her eyes, feeling every movement devoted to wring out the pleasure within you and it’s effective—she’s a natural at this.

Her tongue works well for a rookie like her, constantly licking your head while she works up her pace moderately. You could feel a little bit of that tooth of her, and you wouldn’t mind that given the fact that it compliments the pleasure she brings—you got that masochistic side in you, too.

“You can hollow your cheeks if you want, or you can go deeper and keep that pace…” Karina mouths her suggestions, as she bites her lips with Winter’s oral endeavors, absolutely marveling her sullied face full of her spit. She does what Karina told her, coming up on a conclusion that it would elevate both of your experiences with the given situation.

She does wonders around your throbbing length, creating a vacuum as she hollows those puffy cheeks of hers, and you can sense how she’s been wanting for god knows how long.

Karina chuckles with your current disposition, succumbs and drowns in the state of bliss but clearly fighting it. If Karina would know how soft, tight and pleasurable Winter is doing around your lengty then wouldn’t be laughing as such.

“Use your words.” Karina tells you, imperatively, about how you can tame Winter and how you can use your advantage against her, benefiting the both of you.

“Such a good girl, Winter—fuck, that’s great.” You can’t manage to lock a gaze onto her bobbing blur, clearly being lost with the pleasure as you savor every second of it.

Winter achieves greater depths, and eventually, she gagged and tried to tame it but in the end, wasn’t deemed successful.

“Oh shi—fuck, I’m sorry, daddy…” Winter catches her breath, face flushed red as she apologizes more about her sudden testing of her limits. You tilt her chin up, facing you as you smile with her skills given her inadequacy on the real scope of things.

“It’s fine, Winter—you did such a great job for me.”

“Yes, he’s right—you did a fantastic job, Minjeong.” Karina smiled mischievously, patting the back of her head and Winter felt more flustered with it, ears with a rosy hue as both your compliments boosts her mood.

“I’ll always be a great girl for daddy…”

She will be.

Winter gains that confidence, immediately taking you in, more sloppier than before as her pace is fast enough to make a mess out of her mouth. She took mental note from earlier, fondling your balls in aims to draw your orgasm closer, to the edge and you admire her initiative. You continue to caress her blonde locks, even tugging onto those nicely-tied pigtails of hers as Karina whispers in her ear, urging her to do more and make you even writhe under her oral control.

“Swirl your tongue, Winter. Stroke his cock too while you’re at it—he loves it.” You sure do.

Winter’s tongue dances around the length of your shaft, as her other hand pumps your shaft in an alternating pattern with her bobs. Up, down, then left and right, the sight down below looks like a dream—no one could possibly know how an innocent looking secretary would be such a cockhungry woman and honestly, you’re here for it.

Karina lifts Winter’s chin up, making her break the trance of solely closing her eyes to feel everything, and maintaining that eye contact that you always wanted.

“There you go, he likes it too when both eyes have contact.” You sure do, again. Winter’s eyes glisten under the moderately vibrant lights the room brings, maintaining such eye contact while bobbing her head repeatedly with an intent to please you. You caress her chin and play with hair, even brushing off some strands that get onto her beautiful and ruined countenance.

Winter gags frequently but she fights it, taming and pushing what she can do and that alone, earns a commending action from her.

She pulls out of her tight encapsulation, eyes lost within yours as she mutters faintly and desperately, “Did I do good, daddy?”

Fuck. They way looked at you, adorably and begging to be ruined could never go wrong. Karina strokes her head, proud for what she's done as you say your own judgment. “Of course you did, Winter—you’re a natural at this…”

The final touch elicits a moan from Winter that makes your cock throb. It was worse when Winter found your length again, handling it and resuming what she’d started.

While being impaled with your shaft inside her heavenly mouth, Winter looks to her right, focused onto Karina as Karina mouthed the words that drop the green light. “Keep sucking him, okay? I’ll make out with him while you’re busy.”

Winter just nods and smiles, mouth full of your cock as your attention is diverted towards Karina, her seductive never failing to make you fall for her as she knows how desperate she became once she saw Winter’s blowjob image.

“Can’t really resist me, huh, Rina?”

She laughs as her hands find their way to your back, inches close towards you as she mouthed such alluring words—her tone clearly helping. “Of course how can I? I can’t just watch my friend here and you having all of the fun yourselves.”

You shake your head, looking at the distance and then back to her eyes, endeared with her scent. “But you literally just sucked my cock like three minutes ago.”

As selfish as she is, you have a point with that yet the three of you deserve equal treatments of pleasure. Karina punches you a little, before maintaining another contact with her that just prepares her for what’s going to happen. “It doesn’t matter—just kiss me, will you?”

Those are words that won’t be left unattended. You push your lips against her, clearly resonating your love and lust for her as every clash results into moans and hums that orchestrate such fine music. The reciprocation was evident, clearly starved with your taste and yearning for more.

Winter hears all of the cacophonous sounds the both of you make, and she would match the energy the both of you emit. So, without a doubt, she takes you deeper, almost touching the base as she gags and controls herself, fondling your balls with such intent to draw you into your own Achilles’ heel. You sensed what she’s trying to do, resulting in deepening the kiss with Karina, torrid and sloppier as the both of you danced your tongues against each other for the sake of supplementing each other’s deprivation.

The scene is getting hotter than hell, and the scene is portrayed like this: Winter’s hands are just digging her nails deeper onto your thighs as she takes you in, pulling out in random intervals and then taking you in again; such hot exchanges of intimate kisses between you and Karina, even making a mess on both your mouths. Every second is up to all your likings, every movement is deriving pleasure up to the bone, and Karina’s being bolder by the second, unbuttoning your long-sleeved polo and undressing your tie.

She’s swift with it and you could’ve stopped her if you wanted to, but you didn’t care as long as Winter’s worshiping your cock and Karina’s lips tangled against yours.

It’s unholy and angelic, best of both worlds and it’s the first paramount.

Karina pulls out as the both of you exchange breaths, satisfied with such liplocking as her eyes averted towards Winter, who’s been gurgling on your length for minutes now.

“Look at you, Winter! Oh, you’re so messy—lipstick stained onto his shaft, tears flowing down your cheek and the drool—the fucking drool all over it.” Karina is astonished with Winter’s hunger, and the both of you are proud of what delved into, to the point of no-return.

The tumultuous moans of pleasure may seem to meet in a halt, feeling the familiar sensation onto your groins coming closer exponentially as each second passes by.

You’re vocal about it, and Karina seizes this as an opportunity for a choice: “Hear that, Winter? He’s close—so close to cumming.”

“Mhmm—ghh” Inaudible sounds just came out of Winter's mouth, but Karina’s smart enough to decipher and translate such messages. You can’t stop your moans and faint pleas, running your hands through Winter’s locks as you succumb deeper, closer to the promised land.

“Where do you want to finish and give your reward to our princess right here?”

It took you a second, and you stood by it, never hesitating, “Want our pretty Winter here be rewarded beautifully—probably just going to add to the mess her face has right now.”

You always loved painting, especially on a pulchritude of a canvas begging to be spoiled with your own artwork.

Winter pulls out strings of saliva adding to the filthiness as Karina commands her to aid your impending orgasmic high, “Stroke that cock, princess—aim it right at you and embrace it.”

Winter just nods, unable to utter words as her sole focus is to wring out the seed of her hard work, and it’s just within her grasp.

You’re shooting, cumming all over the fine visage of hers, and you repeatedly moan in increasing decibels for such euphoria. Nose, cheeks, hair, neck, even her clothes—you name everything your cum landed on and she’s entirely grateful about it, humming soundly as she gratified to even taste your sweet seed.

“Delicious, isn’t it?” Karina interrupts, and Winter smiles at her gleefully as she loves what just happened.

“I like daddy’s delicious cum, unnie—hah, I n-never thought this could feel great.” An exasperated blow leaves her lips, her hands still tasting the cum that’s painted on her and she still keeps that vibrant, sincere smile since the start. You commanded her to stand up and she does what she’s told, quickly getting up and helping her a little, and expectedly, Karina interrupts with sin spilling out of her very lips. “You know that we’re still not done, right, Winter?”

She gazes at the cum-glistened Winter, eyes meeting hers as her aura alone intimidates the both of you, most likely yours. Winter pouts her lips, looking down as she faints a reply, “Of course, unnie…”

Karina nods, parting her lips as she turns back to you and you anticipate what can come out of her lips. “Tell her what you want to experience, Winter.”

Winter’s lips quiver, eyebrows furrowed as she felt the slightest of that progressing nervousness. “I want to f-feel you, daddy…”

You grab her wrists, leaning her petite frame towards you, dangerously close as you run your fingers through her fair complexion, cleaning her off and then directing it onto her mouth. She obliges, sucking onto your fingers and feeding her starvation as Karina strokes her hair, mouthing the words Good girl repeatedly—it’s a chant to tame and make her as pliant as possible, and it’s absolutely effective.

Karina kisses her nape, earning a squirm under her touch as you continue cleaning her off, aiming to unsoil to make yourself in awe over her ethereal face. “Tell me something, Winter—” She continues suckling onto your fingers, savoring every second that counts that plunges her mouth. “—like everything you want to happen…”

You pull out of her mouth’s embrace, uttering needy moans and whines escaping Winter’s lips as Karina encourages her. “Come on, Minjeongie—don’t be shy and let it all out.”

Karina’s voice melts Winter to the point that she could just stare at you, utter need with her eyes and laced with lust. She continues to moan with Karina’s frequent latches onto her pristine skin, calling her name as she draws herself closer to you, and you handle her with care, both hands onto her waist and inviting her. “You don’t mind leaning in for a kiss, won’t you?”

Winter’s breath brush against yours, knees shuddering with the sensitivity the both of you are bringing as Karina speaks for her. “She wouldn’t mind it—she’s been wanting to kiss you for so long.”

Winter can’t look at you, with her eyes closed, ending up in a predicament because of a profound confession which her friends say out loud, vocally. You tease her, shaking your head to play with her and she just lets out more gasps as Karina roams her hands all over Winter’s exposed skin. “Look who’s a needy, naughty girl, Winter, hm?”

Winter just drowns your eardrum with a pool of dulcet moans, a candy you’ll love to indulge on. It was eargasmic, as someone may say and Karina can confirm it, continuous with her worshiping and audacious advances. She tugs Winter onto hers, gaining control over your dominance as she hikes her skirt a little and then caresses her thighs, her name ringing like a chant on Karina’s ear.

Winter just hums, unable to speak with your lips clashed against hers, hands cupping her cheeks and delving deeper. It wasn’t voracious like you did with Karina, but more to let Winter undergo an unforgettable memory on how great this is. Karina’s a little left behind, feeling the both of you are exuding such hotness that baffles Karina and she loves to play alongside it—she keeps marking her neck and her nape, not enough to leave some hickeys but enough to elicit muffled sounds sequestered with your own lips.

Karina wants Winter to experience one hell of a night, and it’s a great start to let her hands wander around the lace of her panties, and onto that permeating heat of hers. Winter involuntarily moans through your lips, her arms wrapping around your waist tighter than before and Karina’s movements just sets gasoline to the flames.

The squelch makes your cock twitch and regain its vigor, and Karina was aware of this and whispered such sinful words to Winter. “Stroke his cock, princess—and I’ll finger you too so the both of you can experience the same height of pleasure.”

You heard Karina’s exchange of filthy temptations onto her ear as you grab Winter’s hand, directing them onto your invigorating length and without a hesitation, she pumped your shaft like she has something to prove. Well, she’s apparently building such a great foundation for the pillars of her prize—the golden words of your approval and satisfaction, even though you’ve said it multiple times.

Like what Karina said earlier—Winter likes to be praised at most times—was a factual statement and it was evident when she felt more rejuvenated when Karina motivated her. You hum with her given reciprocations as it is chaste yet heartfelt, hitting the right spots of fulfilling her deprivation.

She’s such a fucking natural, because the way she was enveloping your lips immediately after such momentary pull-out was enough to impress you and so did Karina.

Karina continued her leisurely attempts of teasing Winter’s folds, mouthing words that accelerated the constant rate of pleasure coursing through her. “I think you’re ready to be fucked with how wet you are, princess.”

It just made clench harder, and Karina smirks knowing it’s her kryptonite. Being called names defining how obedient she is just states the fact about her certain fetish, and Karina knows how to exactly push her buttons.

You pull out of her lips’ tight embrace, tucking her hair behind her ear, and you conclude your own verdict with Karina’s words. “Oh—you’re dying to be fucked, did I hear that right, Winter?”

Winter nods, a sly smile curling her lips as she continues to pump you, yet you hinder it with your own hands as you’re saving up such a progression for what will happen later. “Yes, daddy—I fucking want it s-so much…”

Karina laughs, knowing how sincere Winter’s pleas are. “She isn’t lying—she’s fucking wet just saying that alone.”

Winter’s subsequent faint moans was a reply to Karina’s repertoire of skills, plunging deeper and swiping it up and down, making Winter’s brain go haywire. Absolutely making yourself feel such libido skyrocketing, you savor the moment of two of the hottest and prettiest girls you’ve ever known making a mess for you to drool on (mostly it’s Winter being spoiled and all-too-filthy).

It is their moment, clearly the other giving it all and the other all to receive and fuck, it’s such a hot sight. You can’t tame yourself to just be a bystander and with a single tug onto Winter’s hem of her skirt, you asked her. “May I?”

“Mhm, daddy—hah…” You then pull her panties, and down to her ankles thanks to gravity, making the scene double the damage as you play with her glistening clit. It feels like she’s just programmed to moan on a constant loop, never-ending as both your fingers stimulate her to the roof.

Karina lets out a sigh, feeling the air inside the rook is getting humid with all of your combined hotness. “Looks like this is the best time to strip, especially in front of the both of you.”

You’d never thought this day would be any better without another show from Karina’s seductive expertise. You’d not put any of your responsibilities in mind if the both of them will be your way to pass the day and let yourself be aware of this: they are intoxicating and insatiable, and you can’t seem to see yourself hesitating.

Karina undresses her blazer-like top, tossing it somewhere and then goes to another set of clothing and it’s such great fuel to keep you going. You kiss Winter’s collarbone as you eye Karina’s stripping, feeling every graceful movement of her sends you into hypnosis but you’re sturdy enough to fight it. You keep your fingers thrusting into Winter’s tightness, your length persistently throbbing as you do your work and you are perplexed when her faint voice breaks your trance. “Isn’t unnie the hottest—ohh, girl on the p-planet?”

You look into her eyes, those glistening orbs tend to allure people including you, and you could just mutter the truth right in front of her. “Both of you are, Winter.”

Winter’s genuine grin with a hint of modesty could never fail to make you fall for her charm. Swift like the wind, Karina’s only left with her lingerie as you stop her when she’s about to reach for her heels, opting for a way that could relive your prolonging fetishes.

“Leave the heels on, please, Karina.”

Her face just exudes the brattish attitude and that everlasting hubris you always adore whenever it breaks, eyebrows raised as she feels like this wasn’t expected. “Why though? It’s not like you’re gonna fuck me, also, not with these on—”

“But I will.” The girls were flummoxed with your decision (mostly Winter) as Winter’s eyes craved for your attention towards her, hands roaming onto your back with a goal to know what might happen.

“You’re going to fuck unnie?” God, you could never fully fathom the fact that such sinful words could leave those innocent lips of hers, but that was such a false assumption as the earlier session says otherwise. It’s still perplexing to say the least, and you love it—you love how she’s gaining more confidence as she gets comfortable with the grasp of events that’s occurring.

You cradle your hands between her waist, flashing a smile. “I’m going to fuck your unnie, Winter—” Her eyes gleam the undying lust, in utter need as she anticipates what’s going to happens and what you’re aware of is that Winter knows how you’ll handle Karina up to your own accord. “—and I hope that’ll make you wetter once it’s your turn.”

You don’t even need that kind of an introduction if she’s already drenched, the repetitive music of her squelches with Karina’s control strengthens the claim. At this moment, you’re just making things in her favor and testing what she can bear, just by voyeur for the time being, on the front seat..

“Karina, come here.” Winter draws back, sitting at the bed as Karina swifts its way onto you and you’re handling her with such ferocity that even galvanizes Karina, eyes widening and hands over your waist.

“You’re such a pervert, y’know that?”

“Well—” You yank Karina’s wrists, putting them in place and she whines needily. She doesn’t need to say that, and she knows how you’ll always think about ruining her whenever she’s all stripped like this—just with her lingerie and her heels exudes such elegance that is dying to be sullied. “—I’ll let Winter know how much of a slut her best friend is.”

Winter laughs and with her regained confidence and comfort as she adds, “Unnie even told me how you’re always making her cum so much…”

Karina glared at Winter playfully, shocked at how bold and vocal Winter is. You smack Karina’s buttcheeks with power enough to make her wince in pain, and right after, smiling with the pleasure it brings. You stare at her eyes, and all you can see is the glistening of her pupils desperate to feel you yet she masks it with the smirks and possibly a stern face. Her hands aren’t idle, running down your back as you feel yourself at the peak of such sensation that no one can stop you. “Turn around and bend over to that table, right now.”

Karina laughs, surprised with your immediate commanding nature and Winter is feeling the need to unveil Karina’s true nature in front of hers eyes. Without any hesitation, Karina bends over the desk and spreads her legs open, laying flat on her stomach and her legs standing onto the floor.

You’ll promise that once you’re done with her, those legs wouldn’t stand so robustly, and would be precarious for her to know who owns her. “Put on a show for our princess here, babe.”

Karina’s choice of names and words never ceases to amaze you or rile you up, as her eloquence in the field of seduction should be studied—maybe Winter can learn a thing or two with her, but what she’ll learn now will be more than that. Karina wiggles her ass, arms grabbing on both sides of the table and with her current position, you can’t be distracted with anything other than drooling and eyeing every inch of her faultless, pristine body that’s sculpted by the gods above.

The fine plane of her figure bent down, pressed on her weight is such a sight that tests temptation and the utter need to use her. She’s so vulnerable and she loves it. You make her wince in pain with your deafening spanks and she drips uncontrollably. Your hands strip Karina’s panties, just down to her hamstrings and immediately, you’re invited with her dripping heat, yearning for your contact. You swipe the slit with your fingers, probably four times, in an up and down motion and then teased her puckered hole that eases up once you plugged your thumb in it.

“God—I—s-still can’t believe you’re so good at this.” Barely registering and occupied with repeated motions on her heat, you continue your assaults onto her cunt, moans bound to spiral out of control whenever the time comes.

You smile with profound confidence, knowing you’re the best she ever had. “Of course, just gonna make this cunt wet enough for the taking.”

Karina repeatedly whines, her arms wagging a little due to the immense pleasure she’s experiencing. You steal ephemeral glances to Winter, touching herself with the sight and god, it’s just making you throb more.

You can’t resist it anymore as the teasing suddenly ends up on a halt, and it was for the better. Karina grips the table harder, feeling the euphoria creating an endless stream of moans that fill your desires to even plunge more into her.

You are slow, savoring every thrust as Karina was eager to let you know who she is. “Fill me up and fuck me hard—fuck me hard enough for Winter to drool on—oh!”

She’s still able to articulate eloquent words but that wouldn’t be happening when you’re in control. Knowing how vigorous Karina is and is up for the maximum taking, you slap her hips and use it as leverage to start the climax of the show. Her frame moves in tandem with your powerful thrusts, a motion to hypnotize you but ends up on her side—she’s gaining this stupor disposition whenever you’re getting balls-deep inside her.

A symphony was created, and a rhapsody lasts for an eternity and it’s simply with your hurried pumping, uttering such sinful sounds coming out from both your lips and with the given pace, she’s liable to give out.

She probably is, heels repeatedly clicking onto the marbled tiles was enough of an answer, knees shaking as you give your hundred percent, and in return, is mutual. You run your hands onto the pristine skin of her ass, giving another smack that makes her clench uncontrollably around your hammering length. You are rapid and destroying her tight, little cunt in every possible second and you can just see Winter in your peripherals, a faint blur as she fingers herself and frantically moaning with the sight.

“God—this is so good—so fucking good—hah!”

“Now Winter knows how much of a slut you really are. You’re commanding and strict outside, even on the campus with your name but when you’re with me, you suddenly give yourself, huh?” A smack, a strike resembling an immediate response but is unable to, moans outpower what she would like to say.

She’s wet and it’s better for you, knowing how you can glide easier into her tight cavern, filling it up to the brim and making her think of you only.

Another strike and she whimpers, “Asked you a question, didn’t I?”

“Was i-it—hah—even a questio—ahh!” You pull her hair, continuously ramming her cunt and demanding an answer coming from her lips.

“I said what I fucking said, Karina.” It was stern, composed and filthy. Your words are scarce with mercy and bring an ounce of pity. You’re harsh, orchestrating the way she’ll reply with your thrusts and it’s not helping her, not when her moans become borderline screams caused by her extravagant waves of pleasure.

She’s dripping, and you can see it whenever you eye her buttcheeks jiggle with the force you’re exerting, clearly spoiling the floor. She raises her legs constantly, succumbing to the pleasure as every clack her heels make just adds to the cacophonous sounds of sex that fills the tension inside this room.

Winter’s eavesdropping could not be any better, every squelch and clap resulting from repeated thrusts inside her cunt. You’d probably say Karina would forget that she exists in this room, not when you’re fucking her up even mentally with how you tell your own pace.

You can feel Karina’s close, dangerously close as she lets you know that, unable to hold it in and eager to give it all out.

“So close, babe—fuck m-me up real good!” You grip her hips harsh enough to possibly leave a bruise, baragging her cunt with an onslaught of thrusts and eventually it wasn’t far from her triumphant roar, a scream signifying her final blow.

Thrusts are relentless and the inevitable does meet its fate, giving another set of hammerings before pulling out (it hurts to do so, but you’re dying to see her cunt spew mountains of her juices) and there she goes, letting everything out. She gasps with the high she’s experiencing, and you lean in on her to kiss her silky skin, peppering it with kisses that just makes your libido reach heights and stay there.

“Oh shit—fuck!” Karina whimpers, lips quivering as she looks over to her shoulder, still enervated with her recent orgasmic trance. She gets up with the help of her own arms, legs wobbling a little as she’s regaining her energy slowly, facing you with a sweet smile.

“Winter’s right actually—you’re always cumming so fucking much whenever I pound you silly.”

Karina’s a little hypocrite, not letting her ego be shattered and most likely, her dominant façade breaks loose.

“Whatever—well, I believe we got our main course right here.” Karina’s head shook, and her eyes directed towards Winter and with Karina’s words, she knew what’s bound to happen and you let your hunger take over you.

“Get up and take off that skirt, Winter.” It was dominant and provocative, but it’s going to be benefiting the both of you. You’ll bet your whole life and will win if Winter’s wet and without even telling nor showing anything, you could feel how wet she is, especially on how you used Karina’s pussy like it’s the final minutes of the world.

And it was set up all too well, Winter whimpering as the cool air blows her skin, feeling more sensitive as she exposes more of that desired treasure.

Skirt’s on the floor and off to somewhere else, a worthless piece of clothing and it was just the tip of the iceberg. With her damp slit now on full display, you let her spread her legs a little and Karina interrupts and guess what, this is a hidden gem for what Winter is about to experience. “Need to get your pussy nice and wet, hm? You wouldn’t mind that won’t you.”

Winter moans with Karina’s efforts, feeling every movement prone to break her apart as she thrusts her fingers up Winter’s walls from behind, mischievously grinning and chuckling seeing Winter sullies herself, bit by bit. The scene could never go wrong, dripping Winter’s juices onto her thighs as she grows drenched by the second, and you eyes her every inch and think how beautiful it is to ruin such a pure, pristine girl breathing in innocence.

You can’t say that now, not when Karina’s almost a knuckle-deep inside Winter and your cock teasing just near the vicinity of her folds.

“Breathe and feel everything, princess.” Karina whispers into her ear, earning a faint Yes from Winter and she just adds to the endless flow of moans and even messes up her own slit.

“I guess you’re ready now, Winter.” She’s barely standing straight for two reasons: one would be her knees giving up, failing her as she succumbs to the pleasure; and two, would be with the way you and Karina are handling her.

The climax starts, and you’re going to give her the best night she will never dare to forget, and let it etch into her brain.

Karina swipes her finger frantically for one last time, before you could take control by laying her back onto the bed. All you can do is be mesmerized with the vulnerable state she is in, laid down and you’re in full control over her. She chuckles with the heat permeating with your own touch, a little ticklish but that’ll do the trick and all you can sense the anticipating seeping in her pupils. You take a look over her impeccable features, the curves and the petite frame down to her waist was enough to make you drool, wanting to strip all of it but this outfit looks way too great on her to be deemed soiled.

She gasps, moans and you reply with control and dominance, slowly pushing your way in as she continuously whimpers. She writhes a little, on the verge of tears on how great it feels when it’s the real thing and you won’t give in to your feral thoughts on wrecking her like what you did to Karina.

“Does it feel good, Winter?” Karina leans onto the bed, whispering again with that sultry voice of hers. Winter just nods and is unable to let out coherent sentences when you’re inside her tightness.

“You know what? Winter’s fucking tight—god!” You exclaim, genuine with your words as it feels as heavenly as Karina. You insert more than half and Winter groans and pleads you for more, composing her breaths as she takes you like a champ.

“So good, daddy! So, so, good—mmh…”

“See? Taking that big cock of hers isn’t so easy, Winter, but you’ll get used to it once you get yourself comfortable.” Karina reassures her and believes she can take it all, and knowing how determined Winter is with all of her encouragement (most likely known as her moans of need) was enough to know she wants more.

You take a hold of her hips, legs now wrapping around your waist with a given set of thrusts just to get herself accustomed to your length. You’re not filling her up to the hilt, but more than half is inserted in every thrust you do, bringing waves of pleasure up in every inch of her body, closing her eyes to feel and cherish every second. Her legs flail in response with your thrusts, gripping onto the sheets for leverage and with the sheer power of each hard thrust, desperate and exhausted moans escape her lips. Karina’s voice encouraging and schooling Winter becomes a faint noise on your ears, too occupied with the fact that you’re pumping your length inside her impossibly tight cunt.

You’ll push it up, pull it up and you’re going to get it done—this just remarks the beginning of the reckoning, and you could just see yourself growing the pace within seconds.

“I never—I’ll watch Winter getting fucked by my boyfriend right here—doesn’t feel it good, hm, princess?” Karina fixes Winter’s hair, tucking it at the back of her ear as her ruined visage makes Karina in awe. Winter could just nod and mutter a faint Yes before moaning again with your moderate thrusts, achieving depths that’s almost the limit.

“Oh god—” You plunge more as per her requesting tone between pleas, making her utter words that aren’t articulately thought about at this point. “—you’re stretching me o-out, daddy!”

“That’s the spirit, princess.” Karina ends it up with a sinister grin, satisfied with the way you’re treating her as her innocence should be kept at bay and wiped, and it’s slowly going towards that way given your pace. Her thighs jiggle with your moderate pursuit onto her heat as she clenches once you run your fingers towards the pristine skin of her cheeks and onto her puckered hole. You groan with your given thrusts and wanting to savor the moment truly, you ask Winter with lust laced on every word, “Do you want me to go deeper, Winter?”

Your hands then roam on her arms, gaining control and feeling the silkiness of every inch, smooth to the touch and aiding the tension between the both of you. Your words just made Winter clench so tight that you elicited a soft moan that was a candy to both of their ears.

Karina adds, her words flaming up the fire of lust in her brain. “He’ll go deeper in you and you’re going to take it like a good girl, right?”

Another saccharine word strokes Winter’s ego, and it’s just making her behave under both your controls (mostly yours). Winter’s eyebrows furrowed, looking at Winter with intent so desperate for more. “Yes—fuck, yes, unnie…”

Karina flashes another satisfied smile for the umpteenth time, signaling her delight with Winter’s submission and all you can feel is Karina tapping onto your shoulder, whispering onto your ear, “Fuck her silly and hard, like how she deserves it.”

You know Winter earned it, taking you like a good girl and how obedient she is strengthens the deal. You rivaled your moderate pace earlier, now ramping up and getting that momentum flowing, ramming her tight cunt in an mind-boggling pace that just uttered the most sinful and neediest moans known to mankind—Winter’s pitch of her tone makes it up to the submissive demeanor she already has, right from the start.

You’re doubting if you could go harsher with your pace, knowing how cautionary when Winter breaks apart and unable to take it all, yet it’s those moans that eliminate these thoughts of yours. Each moan inviting you to thrust in harder and with her repeated pleas, you could only oscillate harsher movements.

“God, she’s creaming like crazy onto your cock, babe—look at her!” Karina gasps after that, a little surprised at how Winter is forming rivulets of her juices and it just made it easier to glide in and withdraw, a repeated process that felt like hours.

You’re now in this constant state of fighting to ruin her truly, inviting her to the succumb onto the abyss of primal bliss, swimming onto it as you plunge her up to the hilt and with their voices forming a discordant sound aiming to break against your temptation, it wasn’t going to be a hard choice.

“Mo—more, daddy!” It’s the simple pleas like that keeps you going, clapping her hard against the mattress and as a result, gripping the sheets tighter that it may almost tear apart. There’s maybe ways to exert more power in her throat, accumulating such power to elicit more high-pitched moans and as much as they’re probably deafening, and a nuisance to the neighbors, one conclusion would be made up: it’s heavenly and musically dissonant.

“Karina…” You call her name, grunting a little as she looks up at you with such innocence—it’s unbelievably contradictory, the sight of her neck down says so—laced on her eyes. “Care to let Winter’s mouth work onto something?”

Karina responds with actions, quick to shut Winter up with her fingers that Winter enthusiastically sucked on. It was a ballistic approach but it’s aiding her an outlet to control herself and suppress the repeating resonating sounds.

All of you are sweating—mostly you, profusely—as the heat was too much to handle and it’s the greatest element of such a sinful event for the fact it just signifies the hotness the three of you emit. Karina inserts another finger, further amplifying the tension as Winter sucks on it like it’s her favorite lollipop, or the best case scenario here, like your succulent cock.

Karina’s fingers are probably soaked in saliva, Winter’s mouth becoming messier just made Karina think of something that will even test Winter’s capabilities and limits. Winter hums and squirms with fingers lodged into her mouth, and given the frequent movements you do, Karina thrusts her fingers onto Winter’s mouth, working alternately with your hips. Winter gags a little, repeated and then frequently, as Karina’s soothing voice trains her to tame it and be composed.

“It’s fine, princess—work it up for me. Close your eyes and just feel it.” Winter eventually embraces the fact that she’s gagging in every thrust Karina does, and she’s doing everything in her power to tame it and it’s not helping when you’re fucking her brains out.

Even with your thrusts laced to break, she remains vigorous and it’s really commendable—the way she’s taking every thrust burns a mental image in you that would scare you for life, in a great way. Winter is now holding onto Karina’s arm, gripping tighter by the second, still bobbing her head onto Karina’s fingers and eventually, Karina pulls out and Winter whines with her actions.

“I w-wanna—fuck! Wanna suck, p-please!”

“Oh, you needy, slutty princess… How the world made you, hm?” Those pleas are not going to be left unattended as Karina resumes plunging her mouth with her saliva-sheathed fingers, sucking and squirming onto it as it just made her even wetter. The repeated clenching and the disheveled look of Winter makes you throb hard, yet speaking of such impending orgasm, you could feel Winter’s getting closer.

“I think Winter’s gonna cum, Rina.” Ragged breaths come right after, a little spent but ultimately alternating between a slow and rapid pace to catch yourself some breather. You can tell how close she is, and wanting Winter to savor the moment of what could be the most euphoric experience that she’ll feel in her whole life. Karina pulls out of the heat of her mouth, tracing her collarbones and teasing, just to get herself riled up for what’s bound to be inevitable.

Winter’s plethora of moans lets you chase her high, fucking her mercilessly as Karina exclaims, wanting to capture a sight that’ll be a core memory for the three of you. “Pull out—pull out! Want her to squirt all over your cock, babe.”

You heard her and immediately obliged, and you could see the most sinful she’s ever become: her folds glistened, and eventually erupted like a volcano that messes up everything in its vicinity. She moaned uncontrollably, calling you for three times as she rode out her high, catching herself some oxygen as her orgasmic trance puts her on a stupor that’s making her feel spent up.

You let her recover, brushing your cock up against her gushing folds and even felt concerned with her current state.

“Winter, a-are you alright?”

“Y-Yes, I’m fine…” Winter sniffles, crying with the overwhelming emotions she’s feeling. You felt bad for going too berserk over her tightness, but with her petite frame still begging to be used, you know remorse would be the last thing you’ll ever consider.

“Tell it to him, princess—tell him what you want him to do.” Karina’s voice regains Winter’s senses, looking at you as her puppy-eyes begs you for something you can’t decline.

“Please f-fuck me again, daddy…” Winter’s legs shake, quivering as she feels vulnerable and blissful, and she loves it (at least her smile says so).

“More, princess—what exactly do you want to earn?” Karina’s unlocking her deepest desires, and it’s only a matter of time before you become aware of it (it’s most likely predictable at this point).

“Daddy’s cum…” God, her voice just made you throb repeatedly, that submissive, soft voice of hers is enough to be enlightened with her message.

“Where do you want it exactly, hm??” Karina faces you, then Winter, eyes anticipating an answer seeking reward and the utter fulfillment of the prophecy.

There Winter goes, predictable and relentless with her words.

“Inside me.”

Inside her, she says.

“You heard our princess, babe.” Karina’s lips brush ever so slightly onto your earlobe, whispering as her voice sounds like the devil making you give up to your temptation and as the endgame, you give in. “Don’t hold back and give her a deserved reward.”

That, you’ll do.

Done stroking your length, you insert it in her once again and still groan with her unparalleled tightness, and Winter immediately voiced out the pleasure you bring. She grips onto the sheets again, making her legs wrap around your waist again, locking you in place as you continue with your expertise.

Your arms then reach for hers, Winter then grabbing onto it like she’s clinging for her life, ensuing a reckless pace that just uttered the most sinful moans she could ever produce. You’re lifting her by a little, head throwing back and hanging a little on the air as she bounces in tandem with your repeated thrusts. Karina then latches her lips onto your back and shoulders, peppering it with kisses and worshiping every inch, feeding her hunger as your insatiability helps.

“My god, babe—you may actually fuck her senseless and put her into sleep.” Karina’s a little bewildered and feral with the way you’re handling Winter, and how Winter’s expression perfectly resembles a face of submission: mouth ajar, continuous with the moans, eyes slightly open and closing, disheveled blonde locks that’s still put in place with her pigtails and the utter mess onto her sullied face.

In other words, her image is now ruined, all thanks to you. She’s grateful for what she has become and fully embraces it—a mindless fucktoy that’s hungry for your cock.

It wasn’t far off before you can feel yourself near, close enough for Winter to embrace the inevitable. You let her go, and Winter thuds onto the mattress, moaning in pain and pleasure with each other movement your hips do. Karina’s hands roam down to your abdomen, caressing, flickering and teasing you to urge for your release and her words send your walls crumbling down: “Aren’t you close, babe? You seem to be groaning more than usual.”

You wince, lips quivering as you face her and god, her contact is enough to melt you. “I’m fucking c-close—yes.”

Karina smirks, hands roaming down towards your ramming length and was enthusiastic she could pull such a trick up her sleeve. “Great, now stop fucking her and let me do something.”

You appear to be puzzled, unsure of what she’s about to enlighten you but you did what she said, compliant and at Karina’s end, satisfied. “Don’t pull out—just leave the tip inside.”

There wasn’t a single idea embarked in your mind, but once she held your cock with vice grip and started stroking it vigorously, you know what she wants to pull off.

“That’s right…” Karina’s mouth is agape, eyeing your expressions as she strokes you into your own euphoric high, and Winter’s moans of encouragement just adds fire, mustering a velocity up at her wrists’ limits. “Fucking cum for me, babe—cum inside that tight, little pussy of our princess.”

Her words are like a fuse, and with the constant squelching of her dexterous fingers sets up a nice combination for the formula of your release.

“Cum for me, babe—fill her pussy up.”

A concoction signifying your awaited release, relentless with her wrists and her fingers and suddenly—

Winter cries, Karina grips tight and you elicit the reward of your hardwork and it ultimately pays off: Winter writhing as you deposit every thick spurt, forming rivulets down to the sheets when it's probably the penultimate second of your high. You never thought this would be such a hot sight to engrave your mind with and you’re honestly grateful for unlocking another one—this delves down to your trophies of Karina’s victorious intelligence, feeding the cabinet full of it as she brings another fetish down to the table.

You’re always winning, and you got to thank Karina with that.

“Fucking hell, Rina—shit, that’s hot…”

Karina’s hubris is stroke, smiling genuinely with the fact that this ticked one of your boxes. “Of course you’ll like this.”

This is a new element of surprise that you always love Karina for, and with that given uprising of emotions, you lunge in and give her some torrid kisses as she’s quick to reciprocate with it. Your cock still throbs in the air, dripping with Winter’s juices and you cum, and to your surprise, you could only sense a hand stroking it and humming onto Karina’s lips because of it.

A faint voice rings in your eardrums, mellow and sinful, just soothing your nerves. “May I please suck it, daddy?”

Of course, it’s Winter with her whole, new self, utterly ruined and confident with her new persona. You keep indulging onto Karina’s scrumptious lips, hands groping her voluptuous tits and caressing them until she pulls out, a moan escaping her mouth before she remarks, “Let her be, babe.”

You groan with the sensitivity, but if it’s Winter practically begging for your length to be tasted then you would comply with her needs. “I didn't say like I won't let her do it.”

You keep playing with Karina’s mounds, earning the faintest yet hottest moans imaginable and with the given signal, Winter indulges again, shifting her body just to be at the edge of the bed, facing your cock. She does her job, flicking her tongue and taking you halfway and with the warmth she brings, you moan in unison with Karina’s.

“Take off this bra, Rina—want to see your fucking tits.”

Karina laughs, knowing how it’s such a ubiquitous move to say those words so aggressively. “Then do it—ahh, no one’s stopping you.”

You grit your teeth, drooling with the sight of her bare tits palmed against your hand, cupping and squeezing them like those are your favorite stress balls—probably the best in the table, unbeatable and in its own league. With a swift motion, you unclasped her bra, legs shuddering a little because of Winter’s audacious pace and it’s such a great addition. You’re instantly met with her taut nipples, probably feeling the breeze the room emanates as all of your hotness rivals it. Free of its frustrating restraints, you admire every inch of it, feeling it as Karina moans with your advancements.

“Keep playing with my tits, babe—fuck, so good!” Her conspicuous amusement fuels you, and you stimulate her more with a tight pinch on her taut buds, earning more sultry moans leaving her lips. Winter just keeps the pace moderate, running her tongue all around your still throbbing length, savoring every inch and humming onto its succulence.

Every second that probably happens in this room is just sinful, and it’s mesmerizing how the three of you are managing to be incredibly consistent with it. Winter’s constant bobbing alleviates the sensitivity, now translating onto pleasure as you continue playing on her mouthwatering mounds, but before you continue, Karina has an idea on her mind.

“You can actually j-just—fuck, that’s great—uhm, fuck my breasts with that cock of yours.”

That’s an idea. Possibly enlightening and tempting, but you’re not the only one with a trick up your sleeve, and let herself know that yours is loose and copious.

“No, Rina—join Winter, on your knees.” Karina’s face paints another visible surprise, and Winter stops and withdraws with a loud pop.

“Well, I can’t turn that down.” Karina then cups your balls, fondling with the slightest of efforts and she knows that the three of you aren’t done yet. “Your balls are still pretty full, too. We’ll stop until they’re fully drained and sore.”

Karina kneels before uttering another set of words that made your length inevitably throb. “Fuck my tits when you’re about to finish.”

That, you’ll wholeheartedly do. The sight is just genuinely impure, Karina kneels down alongside Winter, and gets onto work without any hesitations. They face your purplish crown, and suckled onto it vigorously and with passion laced in every second they do such sin.

There weren’t any introductions for you to keep yourself accustomed to them nor any teasing, and immediately, Winter peppers your shaft with kisses up to the base, and Karina immediately latches her tongue to paint her own drool all over your engorged tip, marking her territory. They’re filthy with each second the counts, bringing up an undistinguishable mess on your shaft and with their hunger for your length, it’s clearly shown how diligent their movements are.

“S-Shit—you two, oh god…” Moans are erratic, breaths are ragged as their oral expertise is clearly displayed, making you feel such stimulation that’s making you feel the utmost gratification. Karina’s tongue kept dancing onto your head, moving on to move deeper whilst Winter averted her attention to your balls, sucking on each one with care and utter depravity.

You just know, that’s you at the top of the world right now and that’s what really matters—it’s stated as a fact with the given sight of these two phantasmagoric girls worshiping your length and need with their actions involving lust. You kept moaning their names, hands caressing and playing with their hair as Karina eventually pulled out, mouthing her satisfaction with the sight.

“Who would have thought this would be fun, hm?”

“Literally all of us, Rina—shit, keep doing that Winter.” You’re not wrong and hers is a rhetorical question. It doesn’t matter at this point, not when your brain is clouded with their dexterous fingers and their talented mouths pleasuring you in the filthiest ways imaginable. Winter strokes your base, hand gripping your thighs as she now takes your length, and Karina makes herself occupied onto sucking those swollen balls of yours.

It’s alternating between who’ll take you and it’s commendable how they manage to choreograph the flow of their oral assault to you with their minds poisoned with their own hunger for your cock. Winter’s a given natural and Karina’s an experienced one, which just concludes to the fact that their dynamic is just the best in these situations—there are plenty of other things their dynamic is great at, yet this one, is off the charts.

The fire of lust in you sets ablaze, and you know something coming neat with the given warning. “You girls—I’m g-gonna fucking cum if you keep doing this.”

Miraculously, they aren’t as selfish as you thought they would be, instantly popping out of your nether region and with the given fate that’s written, it’s up for you to fulfill it. “Oh babe, you gotta fuck my tits first, remember?“

Of course you do, you’re even dying to feel those pillowy mounds wrapped around your length and feel its incredible warmth. “Like I would forget that, Rina.”

“God, you’re gonna finish on unnie’s tits, daddy?” It never fails to amaze you how the submissiveness of Winter makes you crumble down your defenses, ultimately being mellow with her with the lustful energy still permeating within you.

“Yes, Winter—I’m going to paint her tits pearly white, every inch, if possible.” Whenever it's possible, you’ll do it. You know it wouldn’t be such a copious amount of your load but you’re getting the job done, no matter what. Karina then looks up at you, with an intent on making fall down to her control as she raises her ass little, still kneeling and with her breasts aligned with your wet, throbbing cock, shs wouldn’t waste a single second enveloping you with her pillowy flesh.

It’s fucking euphoric how the heat of her mounds wraps around your length, just in the right of amount of tightness as she squeezes her tits with all her might and you gladly appreciate it. Winter then goes onto her back, her frame pressed against Karina’s back and starts helping to stimulate her, pinching her nipples and applying a pushing pressure to wrap you around like a fleshlight.

You move, dictate a pace and instantly groan with the sensitivity yet you don't care, because you’re dying to release everything you can onto a canyon of her cleavage. Thanks to the aided lubrication their mouths brang earlier, it wasn’t an issue elevating the pace, grasping her shoulders as you thrust in and out like it’s just her tight cunt all over again. Karina even moves herself in accordance to your pace, also desperate for another filthy load as she moans with Winter’s approaches, playing with her mounds and making her experience the same tempo of pleasure as you.

The crescendo hits, hitting the climax with such a tremendous pitch with Winter’s constant pinching, earning such a borderline scream from Karina that even pleads you for more.

“God, please, babe—your cock—so good around my tits, shit!”

You’re sweating, focused solely invested into achieving your own high as you bent your knees a little, gaining yourself leverage for a better pace. “These tits are fucking perfect around my cock, yes!”

It’s just another filthy picture imprinted into your brain, completely lost with her hypnotizing flesh gliding complimentary with your length as you could feel the euphoric experience on its near demise. Karina would even flick her tongue when your tip hit near her chin, shuddering with the flesh in contact with your leaking slit, even drawing near to your supposedly final piece of your own tale.

It’s told, etched onto the history books as Karina’s broken yet sultry voice invites you and immediately, it’s lured in.

You kept your wild pace on the run, even with the vicinity of her cleavage being painted white, even hitting her neck and making a mess all over her mound. Winter releases her grip onto Karina’s tits, and is flabbergasted with how filthy Karina has been—ruined and painted, just like her.

You withdraw when Karina releases her grip, her fingers tracing the cum you deposited onto her pristine skin and tasted it, still satisfied with the delectable taste it still has. “You never disappoint, babe.”

“You girls are insane.” A breath follows, exhausted with what the three of you have done as you can even see their chests heave because of being in the same boat as yours. You help Karina stand up, a little wobbly because of all that just happened as she glares at you and speaks up.

“You should have let me take off the heels—it’s uncomfortable as fuck.”

“Well, you even look hotter with it—maybe even made me cum harder.”

“Unnie’s right, daddy—you look hot with just your heels on.” Winter’s verdict strokes the ego out of you, cocking your head as you scoff with hubris.

“Fine—let’s just clean up, shall we?”

Karina invites of course and it’s just reasonable—the three of you are probably the filthiest people in this given time frame, and cleansing yourselves would be a great option.

Maybe it’s another “two birds with one stone” in the bathroom later but one thing is for sure, you definitely hit the birds precisely and you’ll cherish and be proud of it, of what you’ve probably become.

“I have an idea though…” Karina’s strained voice invites Winter and you, all ears with what in the roulette of filthiness she may say right after. “Come here, Winter.”

She is puzzled yet she anticipates what Karina may have in store for her and you took a seat, possibly expecting for her to put up a show for you to indulge on.

“What is it, unnie?”

“See the mess on my tits?” Winter answers audibly with a nod right after, expecting Winter’s ability to adapt in these situations is enough to connect the dots. “I assume what you want to do with it.”

Winter’s eyes shine, gleaming with lust as she feels shy knowing that what she has in mind is right. “Uhm, is it alright, unnie?”

“Yes, Winter—now say to him what you’re going to do.” Karina’s commands avert Winter’s eyes towards yours, and completely, you’re clearly interested how Winter will say such events that’s destined to unfold later, tilting your head and giving another green light.

“Go ahead, Winter—enlighten me.”

Winter clears her throat, eyes locked onto yours and lets herself be utterly vocal. “I’m assuming unnie wants me to clean your cum from her tits, am I right, daddy?”

The way Winter said it with sheer hesitance and as the cherry on top, laced with such innocence still baffles you—it felt like you heard something blasphemous but this is the reality of things now, and it’s clearly Winter becoming totally influenced and ruined by the both of you is just the beginning. You chuckle with her words, victorious with what you made her to be as you shake your head, pretending to be unaware of Karina’s whereabouts. “I don’t know, ask your unnie instead…”

Winter spans her attention to Karina, as Karina tilts her head and assures her. “Well, if so, it’s a yes and definitely, you’re right.”

Winter immediately flustered, cheeks emanating that rosy-pink hue as she went towards Karina, and with her power, she grabbed Winter by her wrists and mouthed the words of enchantment. “Go and clean me off, princess—show me what that tongue can do…”

Still with Karina’s authority, Winter whines and smiles at her, and her tongue slowly touches the tip of her mounds, still hesitant and Karina knows this, and she’ll do everything with her power to let Winter be a tool to achieve her wants, and Winter’s too, of course. “It’s just going to be the three of us knowing this mess, so go on princess—clean me off.”

Clean her off, that’s a must and it’s commanding.

There’s something whenever Karina asserts her dominance and control, and it’s just turning every button on you, with a flip of a switch. Her handling of Winter is something you wouldn’t expect, and the sight is just like candy to your eyes—addicting, each second savored as you find yourself indulging for more.

You marvel at Karina’s filthy artisticness, a clever mind with another purpose would be something that will leave you astonished at most times.

Winter’s tongue licks the vicinity of Karina��s cleavage, every drop wiped clean and onto her mouth as Karina interrupts and lets go of her grip. “Don’t swallow it, princess—not yet. I’ll do something with you.”

Winter hums in satisfaction, a reply that falls audible on Karina’s ears as a nod comes right after. When Winter feels like she’s done licking every inch clean, Karina cups her cheeks and tilts her chin, and those eyes of Winter glisten under Karina’s control. “I’ve always wanted to do this.”

It boils down into madness, lips crashing against each other as Karina’s initiative was eager to be reciprocated by Winter. The exchange was hot and chaste, feeling every second too euphoric as they resonate sounds enough for you to taint your mind with. Karina slurps with Winter’s approaching control, tongue dancing all over hers as Karina pulls out, and they both look at each other’s eyes with such needy intent. “Now share that cum with me, princess.”

Winter does as what she’s told to, immediately deposits remnants of that prize of yours onto Karina’s mouth, slobbering all over it while still exchanging kisses onto Winter’s insatiable lips. It goes onto these thoughts on why Karina possibly loves indulging Winter on a hot kiss: firstly, it’s mostly reminding her how Winter’s mouth still resembles the taste of your cock, which clearly, she’s obsessed with; second, the heat of the moment was just skyrocketing, feeling Karina’s urge to let Winter know how good of a kisser she is let herself be known how capable she is with anything; and lastly, Karina’s addicted to the taste of your cum, a protein she probably wouldn’t refuse to not let her tongue taste it.

These are assumptions at your end, yet clearly, you know how those can hit the right boxes, with only a minuscule margin of error.

They continue with such ferocity, Karina’s hands find Winter’s tiny waist, pulling her deeper into the blissful trance as both of them get lost into the abyss of need. Winter finds Karina’s shoulders, caressing it as they indulge deeper and then eventually, they pull out with little oxygen left in their bodies to spare.

“God, you two are fucking hot doing that.” You let them know that, and they already did, just another ringing onto their ears.

“Well, I can’t help that our princess here taste so fucking good.”

Winter laughs faintly, shy as she manages to utter something unserious. “I bet you only wanted to kiss me because of daddy’s cum…”

You ride with the high, teasing Karina as she gives you that unimpressed look, and you know she’s also playing with you and chose to be alongside it. “Yah, you really tasted that good too, plus the fact that it’s his cum too, so yeah…”

You’d say this is the final chapter in today’s book, and you let them invite onto something that could cleanse themselves for such acts. “Now, for real girls, let’s clean up.”

You never knew if you could be mesmerized or disappointed by what Karina made you do but one thing’s for sure, you never regretted every second and possibly, even experience something like this more frequently. Every possible dynamic that happened was

“That sure made me know Winter more… and go even more than comfortable…”

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