#i regret keeping him company for this match

[lord-rain-master]

him: idc about football but i watch it bc it's fun

also him, when the opposing team scores: i hope they all fucking die

[worldsover]

Well, Now What?

20.5k words

You are dating Ryujin; it's tough making a relationship with an idol work, but you have your own… unique ways of handling it, featuring quite a few other idols. When your friend and ex Karina gets wrapped up in a dating scandal with your fellow actor, you're put in a tough spot between them.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

"Well, now what?"

No response to your question. Your living room is bathed in a cold, sterile light, streetlamps against the windows. There sits man of the hour, Lae Jaewook. Cans of beer line your coffee table, and the conversation you're holding with him feels like a scene in more of a low-budget show, maybe one of those YouTube web series, and there's no way that YouTube money could afford a cast with you and Jaewook in it. His face, all rough lines and handsome features, is clear and void.

"I mean, if you're not gonna call her���" You gesture vaguely around your empty room, not wanting to have to spell it out.

Irritation cracks his strong features, and Jaewook counters your frustration with even more stubbornness. The sky-high cheekbones, the crinkled eyes, he'd be an intimidating force, heavy waves rumbling in the distance, if you didn't know him so well. "Come on, you think I don't have the sense to call her?" He scoffs. You want to nod, want to laugh, but keep both to yourself for now. "No, it's your fault."

"Oh?"

"You're keeping me hostage here like some kind of bad cop," he says as he points toward the empty cans on the table.

Put your hands up. (Weren't you supposed to be the cop? He has the gaze of a severe statesman whose withering off-hand remarks might flatten a country, even if when he talks, it's a lot less dire.) "Alright man," you say, "if you wanna leave, you can leave. Good luck with Dispatch."

Your words hit the target, raising Jaewook from his seat. He walks toward you and places his hand on your shoulder, and the two of you make eye contact, tense energy snapping through the air; it releases like that, and you both laugh.

"I'm not going anywhere yet," he says. "Too late for that." You can see the regret in his choice of company for the night. You can imagine one other person he'd rather see in the moment. You get it. "This whole thing is just…"

"Yeah, crazy." You nod solemnly, empathetically. You know this, all the thoughts going through his head, lived through the worries yourself. Living through them now, still. You reach over and grab the last unopened can of beer. After a long sip, you notice Jaewook, a statue. You'd usually laugh when he gets that serious.

His expression softens. "How does it work? The whole… dating an idol thing. You know that's why I called in the first place."

You motion toward the TV symbolically, its screen black but text implied what it would be if powered on. "Well, clear all that shit up, first of all."

"What?"

"You said it was just flirting, you weren't at dating yet."

"Well, yeah, I've asked her out on dates."

"So it's one of those."

He sighs and shakes his head. "She's already been to my house like four times, I think."

You stretch out your hand to give him a fist bump. "Nice."

"Don't be stupid, you know it's not like that. Where the fuck else..."

You smirk and retract your arm. "I'm just fucking with you, man. Trust me, if anyone knows how the system works, it's me."

Jaewook purses his lips. "Right." He sits back down on the couch with a tired thud that makes the old cushions sink. "This is all so stupid." His voice is a mumble as if speaking only to himself.

You gulp down beer. "Again, trust me. I know." You're not a serious kind of person, but you're sure he recognizes the honesty in your voice. "Anyway, you better get on that shit. If there's only person that matters..." Once more, you have a sudden, uncharacteristic sincerity about you. When you and Jaewook and Chaemin and the rest of the guys hang out, it's always fun and games, and no time to dig deeper, talk about anything that matters. It's different here. Call it matching the dim atmosphere of the night. "You know the headlines are saying it was love at first sight."

Jaewook waves a dismissive hand. "Aish, I don't care about comments."

"That's not the point. Does she know?"

He thinks for a moment. "Shit."

It's your turn to pat his shoulder. Almost like looking into a mirror.

Jaewook looks more determined than defeated, looking at his phone on the table. (It's a ghost town; he's completely silenced the device because otherwise, it'd be like hanging out with a flashbang in the middle of the room. Now the grenade's just an elephant.) "I'll get right on it. I need to think about what to say, though."

Pat him once more before leaning away.

"But anyway," he says, "that's not what I was asking about. It was more about the idol thing than the dating."

Another sip to think."I see... how do I put this? Imagine trying to date the Mona Lisa."

Jaewook spits out his drink. "What? You're always full of shit."

"I'm being serious! Dating an idol is like robbing a work of art. You have ten security cameras and eight panes of glass between you and the actual painting."

Jaewook's eyes narrow as he considers your analogy. He laughs to himself. "Got it. I didn't know you could be so smart."

"Pft, you know what, I am kicking you out for that—"

"Wait, wait, sorry, I didn't mean it like that. Actually, keep talking."

"Okay," you start again. "Well... If you're an idiot, you'd only see the walls and the cameras. You'd think you're building a relationship, but really, all you're doing is running into more roadblocks, being paranoid, until one day, you'll trip a trip wire, and, ping pang, those eight panes of glass are gone, and the alarms are gonna ring in your ears and all those security guards are gonna drag you out and you'll never be allowed to even see the Mona Lisa anymore."

"Hah, okay. Wow. I thought I was drunk," Jaewook replies, grinning. "Are you okay?"

You clap him on the back and take a swig of beer. "Okay? Bro, I'm doing more than okay. I guess that was just the first time for me."

"So you're saying you've dated more than one idol?"

If only he knew. You sidestep the question. "Ryujin and I are plenty happy," you say with finality. "But that's not the point. I guess you could say she let me see past the walls. Not the cameras—we do know the cameras are still there, but we can't do anything about them anyway, right?"

Jaewook sits back down. "Never mind. I don't know why I came to you for advice," he mutters. "You're clearly insane."

The two of you talk for the rest of the night, mostly about inconsequential matters, like how Jaewook still keeps in touch with his other costars, Minhyun, Somin, and Kiyong, or how Jaewook has been practicing guitar lately. The delivery driver at your door with a bag of chicken asks if you’re that actor, then follows up with asking if you’re that actor who’s friends with Lee Jaewook, then follows that up with asking if you’re that actor who’s friends with Lee Jaewook who’s the thief dating Karina; he just read that on the news—you laugh it off. Over chicken, you share your excitement with Jaewook about debuting as a lead in your own drama.

But amidst all the casual chatter, the question lingers in the air like a persistent itch.

"How do you make it work?"

✦✧✦✧✦✧

"Well, now what?"

You lie in Arin's bed, your arm draped around her warm, perspiring body. The soft glow of dawn casts a faint light on her nude form, revealing the flush of red marks and handprints that decorate her exposed skin. As you steal a glance at her, a mischievous smirk plays on her lips, and her bare back becomes a canvas for your wandering finger. The room is dimly lit, allowing only glimpses of the intimate details of her body, while everything else fades into obscurity.

"What do you mean, Oppa?" Arin responds, then turns to face you. Her eyes gleam with curious desire. Her ass, on full display before you, holds a magnetic allure, enticing you like a loose thread begging to be pulled. Reddened further. Made into your fucking handles. Your finger, more delicately than your wanton thoughts, traces a path down her spine, to venture onto the painted canvas of her backside. Even if the light is soft, it feels like a spotlight on how every contour and curve of her skin comes alive to you.

Your nails dig into the raw flesh as you kiss the nape of her neck. "Is it okay if I sleep here," you ask, "or do I have to sneak out?"

Arin releases a contented sigh, leans into your touch. Her voice carries a breathless quality as she answers, "Stay." Her breath dances against your skin.

So you stay.

"By the way, I've been wondering..."

"What about?" you inquire while your fingers inch closer to the warmth nestled between her thighs. Instinctively, Arin's hips jerk, and her legs close around your hand, holding it captive. The rhythm of her heartbeat resonates against your chest as you lean forward to plant a tender kiss on her cheek.

"How you're not jealous of Ryujin. Like how many guys and girls has she fucked this week?"

"Four. It's a down week." You chuckle, shaking your head as your hand continues its exploration, fingertips caressing Arin's delicate folds. "And I suppose you can imagine how I cope," you reply, the sensation of her moistness enveloping your fingers.

"Mmm, you're such a… cocky… ahh. I don't get it, but it works for you, I guess." Arin smiles, her eyes closed as she relaxes into your touch. She tilts her head back and lets out a moan, a soft one that you've come to love and know so well.

"Besides," you continue, cupping her mound with gentle pressure, "we've always been honest with one another. Ryujin knows that I think you have the most exquisite ass of anyone I've been with, even her. And she agrees. There's no lying between us."

"You really think so?"

Before you can respond, your phone illuminates the bedside table, displaying Ryujin's name on the caller ID. You laugh as you lean over to answer the call. Ryujin's voice reaches you, ragged and husky with desire. You're tempted to confirm with Ryujin about Arin's ass, but a greeting is probably more apt here.

"Hey baby," you say as you hold the phone, tracing careful circles on Arin's thigh. "What's up?"

"I miss you," Ryujin breathes, each word punctuated by shallow pants, "so fucking bad."

"I miss you too," you reply, your fingers continuing their gentle exploration along Arin's sensitive folds. "But isn't it a little weird to call your boyfriend while..."

"I'm what?" More breathy gasps betray her feigned innocence.

"Let me guess," you respond, slipping two fingers into Arin and curling inside. "Missionary?"

Ryujin splutters, her voice rising in pitch as she attempts to maintain her façade, while the man she's with muffles a moan in the background. Her laughter transforms from playful to breathless.

"I know what you wanted to say. 'Missionary? Don't insult me.' My mistake," you say, earning a choked noise from the phone in response, yet you continue. "Seems like a cowgirl kind of night."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," she protests, her resistance crumbling under the weight of pleasure. "Ah, ah, fuck..." You can almost picture her at this moment: back arched and head thrown back; ass slamming against the thighs of some other man, each moan like an explosion of color into your imagination.

"So I'm right." You fuck your fingers faster into Arin, the sticky sensation building between your knuckles and the juncture of her thighs; some of it is your creampie, and the rest must be her own juices, because your fingers are sliding in and out with ease. "Lucky guy."

Arin is panting beneath you, face flushed with arousal, rolling her hips in time with your rhythmic thrusting. As you listen to Ryujin's pleasure, Arin grows increasingly impatient. "Please Oppa, please..."

"How's your toy? Is he enjoying himself?" you ask, presenting your fingers to Arin, glistening with a mixture of her essence and your shared passion. A blush spreads across Arin's cheeks as she takes hold of your wrist, her eyes locked on yours. She proceeds to clean your digits with her mouth without breaking eye contact.

"He's a good boy," Ryujin says, "the usual type. I'm showing him the ropes."

You chuckle as you look down at Arin, who takes your fingers deeper and deeper into her throat. She gags, and drool slips from her lips and trickles down her chin. When you finally withdraw your digits, Arin leans over to nibble on your ear and whispers: "I want more."

Instead of responding to Arin's plea, you address Ryujin once more through the phone. "You're so predictable. Let me guess... It's one of those rookie HYBE idols?"

"Maybe," Ryujin manages to reply between breaths, the bed creaking in a rhythm that aligns with her mounting pleasure. "Hmm."

"Can I get a hint?" But instead of a response, all you get is the sound of riding and the faint squelching through your phone.

Arin gazes up at you, her body flushed and needy, a rosy hue spreading across her skin. She grips your shaft firmly, fingers curling around the tip and stroking downward, a small trickle of pre-cum escaping. She mouths, "Oppa, you're hard again."

Ryujin finally speaks up, her voice strained. "Oh, god, I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna—"

"Alright, I guess you can tell me later," you interrupt, ending the call just as Arin hooks her leg over your hip, her slick entrance pressing against your throbbing tip.

Arin drags her folds along your shaft and smears your desire against her sensitive clit. "Don't you want to know?"

"No. I'm like her like that. Easily distracted and—"

Not only your words but your breath are cut off as Arin's eager heat swallows your cock whole, only proving your point.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

"Well, now what?"

Your statement follows a gesture toward the couch where Ryujin and Karina are sitting, the latter sitting on the floor between the former's legs. Ryujin is petting Karina's hair, the soft touch providing a much-needed moment of reprieve. Your living room is always cleaner when your girlfriend is over, and the air is thicker and warmer, too. When Karina comes over, the house feels smaller, as if the walls are pushing in to create an intimate barrier, and the words come easier.

"Not today, honey," Ryujin says softly, but a stern undertone remains in her voice, one that you know means "no" and "back off." She can see the hunger in your eyes, the need for you to finish your conversation from yesterday. But as always she's right: you have a guest.

Karina's voice is hoarse. "I'm sorry for interrupting you guys."

"No, don't apologize," Ryujin soothes. "We've had enough fun."

Karina's gaze is downcast as she rests her head on Ryujin's thighs. "And I'm sorry for crying and ruining the mood. I just..." She lets out a soft sob, sniffles. You pass a tissue box to Ryujin, who in turn passes it to Karina.

"She's right," you say. "Nothing to apologize for, nothing to ruin."

Ryujin continues stroking Karina's hair, a small, encouraging smile on her lips.

"And I wrote all that too... I was being sincere and... to the fans"—every word is strained through a sob—"it must look like I don't care about them at all... I'm so... they're saying I'm an embarrassment."

Ryujin grabs Karina's shoulders, bends down so Karina can look up and make eye contact with her. "Hey, listen to me. I'm serious. I want you to stop apologizing. Stop thinking like that. You haven't done anything wrong."

You and Ryujin let time pass as Karina cries on her shoulder, goes through a whole tissue box, and then more time passes. You're thankful that Ryujin was already here when Karina knocked on your door; it was the perfect excuse to not talk about the real elephant in the room. Now, Ryujin's presence acts as a buffer that prevents the elephant from trampling into the conversation and crushing your living room beneath its massive bulk. (The fact that Karina came to you for comfort does not go unnoticed either.)

"What am I going to do? I can't even see him." She sits up and rubs her eyes. There's little makeup to ruin, yet she still manages to smear the little that there is, leaving her cheeks streaked with black and red. Even then, you can still see how gorgeous she is underneath it all, that kind of beauty that goes beyond skin deep. "My image is ruined."

Ryujin's first step for consolation is pushing a slice of pizza toward Karina, who, despite her nerves, starts scarfing down food like a ravenous wolf. "You? Ruined?" Ryujin laughs sarcastically. "Really, an eleven out of ten international supermodel is being brought to the brink by dating a super nice and well-liked guy. If only I were so lucky," she says, looking at you with a pointed smirk.

("Yah!" you mouth as you both laugh to yourselves, in your own private joke.)

"I want it to be simple," Karina says in between bites. "Just me and the people I care about."

Ryujin raises an eyebrow, a sly smirk playing on her lips. "Does that include me?"

Karina turns a deeper shade of red. She rests her head against Ryujin's knees, her eyes shut tight. "You don't count," she whines. However, it seems to cheer her up.

Your girlfriend chuckles a low and melodious sound that fills the room. "I can't help it," Ryujin says, her hands massaging Karina's shoulders and then running down her back, making her shiver. "I can't seem to keep my hands off of you."

"Y-yah," Karina stammers and then turns around to look at Ryujin with a feigned scowl. "I'm being serious though. Even forgetting about all the stuff that I've said... I'm just so stressed out. It's impossible to make time with him, especially now that it's all out in the open."

"Then don't," Ryujin offers bluntly. You give her a pointed look as if to say "Really? Don't?" But Ryujin ignores you, focusing her attention on Karina. "If it's too complicated then you shouldn't force yourself."

Karina shakes her head vehemently, eyes welling with tears once more.

"I don't mean don't date him!" Ryujin clarifies quickly, then takes a moment to ponder. "I mean, look at us." Ryujin points to herself and then to you, her eyes warm and inviting as she smiles at you. Karina follows Ryujin's line of sight with a tilt of the head.

"I know what you're going to ask," you say, "and yeah, he's already two steps ahead of you. He asked me how me and Ryujin made it work."

"And what did you say?" Karina asks.

"Well, I didn't get into the specifics with him." You were sidetracked with analogies, and you think the less drunk Karina wouldn't appreciate the roundabout method anyway, even if you liken her to a masterpiece of art. And Ryujin, she would appreciate your efforts—she still has the keys you bought her—but would undoubtedly burst out laughing when you got to the point.

Karina sits up straight, her expression eager. "Please tell me, I want to know. How does it work?"

Ryujin giggles while she leans in close to Karina's ear. "You really want to know? I think our arrangement is a little bit different than what you're used to."

"How?" Karina asks, her breath coming out in sharp rasps.

Ryujin runs a finger along Karina's jawline. "We've got quite a few friends, if you haven't noticed."

"What do you mean?" Karina looks so innocent when she's confused, like a lost kitten. So cute.

Ryujin always has the most fun when she's teasing, and the easiest target is often Karina, like this. It's not just teasing the way that actual friends tease: these are the touches she gives to her targets. To her prey. Her fingers brush against Karina's neck, trailing down to the base of her throat.

"I mean…" you start, "so you know how the number one problem is when schedules don't line up? You want to go out on a date, but you're both too busy?"

Karina nods slowly.

Ryujin leans forward, her voice dropping to a low purr. "We have other friends who we can spend time with. People who are also very friendly."

"I-I don't really get how that helps your relationship," Karina says.

"What I'm saying is—"

You stop Ryujin before she can explain further. "Hey, hey, wait, let's not freak her out. I don't think she's ready for that yet. But, I think there's still a point there. You have to be patient. To not be jealous. And, it's easier to do that when you have other people you're spending time with, too."

"That makes sense, I guess," Karina says, her finger on her lips. She lifts her head and traces patterns on Ryujin's knee, absentmindedly.

"Eventually, if it's meant to work out, time will make itself."

Karina sighs, her shoulders slumping. "You're right."

You watch as she closes her eyes meditatively and clasps her hands together. You exchange glances with Ryujin, who shrugs, and you both sit in silence for a few moments, waiting for her to finish. Finally, she opens her eyes with determination. You've never seen such fire in her eyes before.

"Alright, I can do this." Karina pumps her fists in the air, and you can practically see the confidence radiating from her.

"Good girl," Ryujin says, which earns an indignant huff from Karina.

"Shut up." Karina crosses her arms and sticks out her tongue. "I'm not a child," she says, like a child.

"If you're going to keep saying sorry all the time, you're acting like a child," Ryujin responds teasingly.

"Shut up!" Karina pushes Ryujin back onto the couch and climbs on top of her. Ryujin laughs but doesn't push back, not resisting as Karina leans forward and pins her to the cushions. You can tell that Karina is just playing around, and the sudden silence from Ryujin is genuine. Karina gets off of Ryujin's lap, a blush spreading across her cheeks when she sees your stare.

You, Ryujin, and Karina manage to move on and spend the rest of the night playing board games and chatting casually. Most of the conversation revolves around you recounting stories from your filming sets and Ryujin giving you a hard time about your acting, while Karina listens attentively to the both of you. Eventually, when the late hour strikes, the conversation slows to a halt. Ryujin yawns and stretches, and Karina is cuddled up with her.

"Hey, Karina," you say. "Are you going to go home tonight?"

"Huh?" Karina replies, opening her eyes. "I thought I would sleep over."

Ryujin nudges Karina. "Wow, how bold of you, sleeping at your ex's place. Were you gonna do it even if I wasn't here?"

"Yah!" Karina squeals, jumping up. "That's not what I meant, I wouldn't do that!"

"I'm just messing with you. I'm staying here tonight, too. And you..." She makes a pointed glare at you. "You're sleeping on the couch tonight, right?"

"This is my house," you say, sighing, as you watch the two girls leave for your bedroom, and you fetch a blanket and pillow for yourself.

One night of sleep on your sofa is a small price to pay to see them so happy together.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

"W-well..."

It's been a while since you've been in such a compromising position. Ryujin is on top of you, her hips pinning you to the bed. You're lying on your back like a helpless lamb to the slaughter, no room for resistance when her fingers trail along your chest, collect beads of sweat from the surface of your skin. Your hands are also pinned, under the diligent grip of Haewon, eyes possibly more watchful than Ryujin's own—they're pencils, pens, chisel to the marble statue of your form. If Ryujin's hands were to strike at that very moment, would you crumble into dust, or be reduced to a pile of rubble? Haewon, the interloper, the invader of privacy who has no reason to be in this room, is nude as well, her full breasts bared before you, nipples taut and erect. As if to invite the touch that you can't give and wish you could. Haewon's tits are bigger than Ryujin's, and she looks at you like she knows it, all the more eager to tease you with her assets. You've already had your chance to savor those breasts—Haewon let you play with them for a while—but now you're stuck and happily stuck if you had to admit it.

"Well," Ryujin echoes, like the natural formation of a canyon could mock the rockiness of your voice, "what now?"

Your breath falls off a cliff.

"Isn't there something you want to say? Come on, Oppa. Tell us what you did wrong," Ryujin coaxes as she leans forward and presses her lips to yours. Her tongue probes into your mouth to deepen the kiss while her hips grind against yours in a tantalizing rhythm. She pulls away suddenly and chuckles.

This is a bad cop, bad cop situation. You gulp. "I'm sorry."

"'Sorry' isn't what we're looking for," Haewon says, low. This is one way to meet someone for the first time; somehow, this suits whatever image you had of her, based on Ryujin's stories, or based on how she is behind the camera. But now she has both eyes on you, and those eyes are like the barrel of a gun, and that gun is pointed straight at you. It's not like you haven't been in more compromising situations—but this feels more dangerous. It's in the way that your girlfriend and the newcomer are so alike in their ability to control the expression of their face: it's like watching two puppeteers exchange roles seamlessly. When Ryujin looks at you, and then at Haewon—the way that the smirk on Ryujin's face changes in tone when she turns to her friend—the way her eyes soften, then her cheeks turn rosy—the way that when Haewon crinkles her nose in disapproval, Ryujin pouts in return—and then they both look back at you with narrow-eyed disappointment; it's all so precise, you might think this is a rehearsed scene. Haewon knows how to play along with the moment, even if you're certain she has no context.

Ryujin asks you another question: "Are you gonna keep acting like this?"

"Acting like what?" you reply, your voice a croak. Your throat is dry, your pulse pounding. The heat of arousal is pooling in your groin. You swallow hard as Ryujin shifts her position to grind herself against your clothed shaft. She leans forward to capture your lips once again, to kiss you passionately, to plunder your mouth with the reckless abandon of her tongue.

"Like you didn't make Karina cry," Ryujin mumbles in between kisses. She pulls away slowly, a thin strand of saliva connecting her lips to yours.

"So this is my fault, and not, I don't know, her actual boyfriend?" You prop yourself up by your elbows, halfway sitting up. You take a glance at Haewon. "Besides, what's she doing here? No offense"—Haewon shrugs—"but this doesn't involve you."

"I'm just here to have fun," she says. "And I'm here because Ryujin wanted me here."

You look back at your girlfriend. "Babe..."

Ryujin cups your chin and tilts your head towards her. Her eyes meet yours, fiery determination reflected in the depths of her gaze. "Karina came to me crying. And guess what? It's because you broke her heart."

"What? That's impossible. How? I didn't do anything to her."

"No? That's not what she told me." Ryujin's tone is flat and level. She's not angry. But there's a weight in her words that strikes fear into your heart, a cold dread that runs down your spine like liquid ice. "You were supposed to be the most amazing boyfriend. And yet you broke her heart."

The thing with timing and love and circumstance and all the little things that make or break a relationship is that it's so easy to fuck up without realizing it. What happened between you and Karina, you would rather ascribe to fate's hands; truth is these hands are invisible because they don't exist, and it's the fault of your own for faltering. In a different time, you would not have met Ryujin after you and Karina broke up—in that other time, you would have been patient, and that other time is in a way so much more rational, because who would not wait for Karina? By all measures, she is worth the wait. But you were greedy, and that greed led you to Ryujin. Your lust got the best of you, and in return, so did your love for both of them.

Ryujin must have seen something in your expression that she takes as guilt because she releases your wrists and places her hands on either side of your face, holding your head steady as she studies your features. For a single second, that tight control over her facial muscles falters, which reveals an uncommon hurt in her eyes.

"You know what? This isn't the time," she whispers. "Not with our friend here." She nods toward Haewon, who gives you a cheerful wave in return.

"Hey, don't let me stop you. If you wanted to talk, then maybe we should have done this one on one."

"No," Ryujin replies, shaking her head. "It's not that serious. I just..."

You lean forward and press a kiss to the tip of Ryujin's nose, hoping that it will calm her nerves. "I know, I know. You actually care about her. I do too. I did. Let's... we can figure this out later."

Your next kiss is not so chaste. You plant a trail of kisses down Ryujin's cheek to the corner of her mouth. Her hands travel along the curve of your jaw, they tangle in your hair, and then she deepens the kiss. Her tongue slips past your teeth, presses her body closer to yours, molds your chests together, her perky breasts a sweet contrast against your hard muscles. You have the thought: what would your observer's tits feel like instead?

"Wow. So sweet," Haewon says quietly as she watches the two of you making out. "I guess I am just here to watch." She shifts her position to rest against the headboard of your bed, giving her an unobstructed view of you and Ryujin.

Ryujin lets out a soft whimper as your hand grazes her inner thigh. "No, come here, Haewon," she whispers, patting the spot next to her.

Haewon glances between the two of you with uncertainty before she slowly rises and climbs onto the bed beside Ryujin, where she scoots close to her friend. She keeps her eyes glued to yours and cups Ryujin's face in her hands and leans forward; they kiss. Haewon closes her eyes and moans softly as Ryujin trails kisses down the column of her throat, nibbles at her pulse point.

Sex isn't an answer or a reward or a conversation; it's the spark, the catalyst, the fuel on the fire, all of them mixed into one. And when that spark meets the catalyst meets the fuel on the fire, there are only more questions left over from the remnants of the explosion—and their answers can wait until tomorrow. But for now, when Ryujin's breath tickles your earlobe as she whispers her dirty fantasies, Haewon is kissing a line down your girlfriend's neck; it's in that moment that you don't have room to care about the consequences when this all started and where this will go; instead, you have all night with these two beauties who are so hot and heavy and ready to fuck.

Ryujin's hand snakes down your abs and wraps around your cock, stroking you slowly. You moan as her fingers tease your sensitive flesh.

"You better keep up" almost sounds like an insult.

You will.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

"Well, now what?"

"Should I just break it off? One shot, clean?" Jaewook grabs a bite of steak, sitting across from you in this private room. There are a couple of other actors too, all the same year as you, but they're lost in their own conversations. You're always surprised that Jaewook isn't the center of attention, even with the Damoclesian sword of news hanging over him; then again, all these people are too experienced with the entertainment industry to be swept up by the headlines.

You wish it were that simple is something you wish you could tell him. You wish you could tell him about the time you and Karina dated, and how SM caught the two of you, forced you to break up since she was just a rookie. How you've been friends since. And how every string, between you and Karina, between you and Ryujin, between Ryujin and Karina, are tangled together too tightly for any clean cut to break the web. You want to tell him because if there's anyone who could understand, it's him. But you also know he can't hear it yet, no matter how much you want to get it off your chest.

"Hey, man, I can't tell you what to do," you say instead, sipping your drink. "But it seems like you're enjoying yourself with her."

"That's not the problem," Jaewook says. He gulps before he admits to you, quietly: "Karina isn't the only one."

Your eyes widen, and you almost choke on your food. You cough and try to catch your breath. "You're kidding," you say. "Who else?"

He gives you a rueful smile. "I can't tell you. I promised I wouldn't."

"But then what about Karina? You know every man in Korea would take your place," you point out.

He shakes his head. "I don't know about that. You know, I haven't even seen her in person once since the whole thing started. It's just... a bunch of texts and calls, and the occasional voice chat. It's like a Bubble subscription that I don't pay for."

You laugh. Think back to the time you were in a similar situation with Ryujin, or even Karina herself. "Sure, but I'm sure you're more patient than that."

"Well, yeah, but... it's still hard, you know? I don't know how long I can keep doing this."

You frown and nod slowly. "I get it. You're a good guy. And I know you don't want to hurt either of them."

"I mean, if it's just Karina, I wouldn't mind," he says, chuckling. "But with Somin—" He puts his hand over his mouth, looking around the room.

You can only laugh. "You're hopeless, man," you say. It's easy to picture him and Somin, even though you've only seen them together in one project because you remember the same way she'd look at you when she's having a good time; it's that sort of trust that makes it so easy to fall into a relationship with a co-star. There's a perfect contrast between them: him, sharp on the outside, a teddy bear on the inside; her, a sweet tooth on the outside, a firecracker on the inside. Then, there's that weird sort of chemistry actors have with one another—you and Ryujin always joke about it when she sees you on set with another woman, as though you're both acting like you're not dating. She gets it; she's an idol too.

"I'm so fucked," Jaewook groans. He takes a long sip of his drink before he turns to you with an anxious expression.

He slumps in his chair, and Dohoon calls out from across the table. "Hey, Jaewook, you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," he says, waving his hand. "I'm fine. Just tired."

"Ah, we're all tired," Dohoon replies with a grin.

"You know, you should get some sleep, Jaewook," you suggest. "You look like you could use it."

"Hey, I'm fine," he says, shaking his head. Jaewook talks about how he and his former costar get to meet up more often, maybe because she's an actress instead of an idol. You already see how this is going to play out, the story written many times before. You try your best to listen, but all you can think about is how your friend is falling deeper and deeper into something he doesn't even realize yet. "We went out for drinks last week," he says.

"I don't blame you," you say, "but I really think you should try to focus on just one person. Even if none of you are actually dating yet." You want to laugh at yourself. How ridiculous of you, a hypocrite to lecture him like this.

"Yeah... I guess you're right." Jaewook scratches the back of his neck, nodding sheepishly. His hand slides down to rest on his chest as he glances at his phone on the table. Another missed call from Karina flashes across the screen before disappearing again.

"Answer that, dumbass." You point. He gives you a look."You act like I'm your personal probation officer."

"I mean, it's kinda true. I'm obviously gonna call back in a second. You know, as soon as you shut up."

You chuckle. "Fine. See, this is why you gotta be more like me. Don't complicate things with what ifs and whatever, just tell Karina straight up."

"You mean, tell her about Somin?"

"No, not that, obviously. That it won't work with you. Look, I'm sure the two of you knew what you were getting into, right? I mean, you knew she was an idol, you knew how hard it'd be to make it work, and you went in knowing that it was just going to be flirting, right? So just go to her and say, 'Hey, this isn't working. Sorry about that. Let's stay friends.'"

"Yeah, but—"

You shake your head. "Trust me. You wanna know how me and Ryujin work it out?"

Jaewook nods. "Oh yeah, you never did answer that."

"We've got friends. Lots of 'em. And I'm not talking about the same friend either. I mean, 'friends'," you say, wiggling your eyebrows. You can see the realization dawning on him, his expression a mix of confusion and curiosity and there's the blush and then there's the laughter and finally, acceptance.

"Oh. Oh... I see."

You smile. "So you get it now."

"Kind of? I'm not stupid, I know what you mean. I'm just having trouble seeing how that helps your relationship."

"Less stress, more fun. Don't overcomplicate things."

"Ah," he says, chuckling. "I see. So you're saying... I should get more 'friends'?"

"No, not like that," you say, laughing. "I mean, you do what you want, and I'm sure you're almost as handsome as me to pull it off—"

"You're full of shit," Jaewook retorts, and you both laugh.

You both return to your meals and after a few bites, you have a final piece for him. "But honestly though, if you like Somin, you should go for it. Don't worry about what other people think. I don't have to tell you to let Karina down easily, you know that. But from what I know about her, it's worth stressing that it's not her fault. It's the world's fault. She'll believe you."

He smiles sincerely. "Thank you."

"And above all else, be firm." God, you sound like his dad or uncle or something; the two of you are the same age. You continue regardless, "Otherwise, you'll end up like me, stuck sharing my girl and having to sleep on a couch."

"That bad, huh?"

"Yep. It's terrible. Now make your goddamn call."

You'd think a man like him would be more steadfast. That the truths within himself would come more obviously. Obvious. The word itself is not so. How easily swayed. But does that make you any better?

✦✧✦✧✦✧

"Well, now what?"

"I don't know," Ryujin replies to you. She's in the passenger seat of your car, the two of you parked in some indoor parking lot, and she looks like she's just done fucking you in the backseat because she's just done fucking you in the backseat, her hair sticking to her sweaty skin, even the parts you can't see under her clothes. Karina had the correct idea, wanting things to be simple. That's why you and Ryujin always make time like this—to talk and fuck, then talk again. Most likely fuck again right after.

A blush crosses her face when she notices you staring at her in the mirror. You appreciate in these moments when she's cute and still trying to figure out her breathing.

"No, actually, I do know," she says, like she caught it.

"What?" you ask. You open your arms out. Ryujin presses herself against your chest. You wrap around her waist, bring her close, tight, only in the way that two lovers so sure of themselves can do. You and she stay like this for a while, her soft breaths tickling your neck while she relaxes against you. "You wanna tell me instead of talking in puzzles? That's pretty new for you."

Ryujin sighs, rests her head on your shoulder. "I'm not sure what to do," she says.

"About what?" you ask. You press a kiss to the top of her head, and she smiles and nuzzles against you.

"Well, Karina..."

"What is it?"

"She's cute."

You laugh."Yeah, I agree."

Ryujin looks like she's steeling herself to say something. Again, it's adorable, how she readies her eyes, breathes out slowly, and clenches her fist. "Here it comes. Okay. I can say this." (Watching her go through this routine has your eyebrows almost permanently raised.) "I like Yu Jimin. I really like her."

You start half of a laugh in disbelief. Then, it becomes a full laugh. When Ryujin looks at you with utter disbelief at the audacity you're showing her, you reach over and grab her ass, squeezing it, and that earns you a squeal from Ryujin.

"That's what you were worried about?" you ask.

Ryujin nods, a sheepish smile on her lips. "You..." She narrows her eyes and hits you in the shoulder. "I'm being serious!"

"I know you are, baby."

"So why aren't you freaking out or anything?"

"Really? Do I even have to say why not?"

"I-I mean, like, I know we have the whole deal and whatnot, but that's different. That's just fucking. I... I truly, actually love Karina."

"And I've noticed that," you reply.

You pull her in for a kiss, lips parting as you cup her head in your hands. Your tongue flicks out against her lower lip and taste the salty tang of perspiration and saliva. Whatever steady rhythm she's caught has re-unsteadied, her motions still fervent and rushed. Every time you make out with her in your front seat, you recall the first time after picking her up from a radio show, remember how you'd fucked her on the stairs of her dorm afterward, in her bed while Lia and Yeji were in the living room, how the two of you snuck out. The memory gets you hard, and she's already noticed.

Ryujin breaks the kiss to stare at your hard cock in disbelief like she can't comprehend how you've managed to recover so fast despite already understanding your stamina. But she's also gasping, gulping air down. 

"Goddammit, hold on," she says, holds your shoulders, and pushes away from you as she leans back. "I was saying something."

"Oh. Yeah. Karina." You wipe your lips, some saliva dribbling on your hand. "Please, I don't even get why we're having this conversation. Aren't you supposed to be the observant one?"

"Well, because you're my boyfriend," she says, matter-of-factly. "And I'm your girlfriend. That's why we're talking about it. That was the first thing we talked about when it came to this open relationship thing, what to do about real emotions and feelings and shit."

"Good point. But why are you worried about how I feel about Karina? You know that we're all friends here, that we didn't break up on bad terms or anything. So if there's anyone I trust you with, it's her. Besides, I see how you look at her. And touch her. Shit, aren't you two close enough to be a thing?"

"I don't know." Ryujin shakes her head. "Maybe we are, but I don't know if she feels the same way."

"Why would she play along if she didn't like you?"

"I don't know," she says again, sounding exasperated. "I always get the feeling that maybe she's just being nice. Besides, look at her, goody two shoes. I bet she thinks if she accidentally looks at boobs other than her own in the mirror, she'd go to hell."

The picture of Karina turning herself on with her own nude body in the mirror has both you and Ryujin distracted, mouth open, picturing. It's funny how in sync the two of you are, and when you realize it, you and Ryujin start laughing.

"I wouldn't put it past her to do that," you say.

"Maybe I'm right," Ryujin retorts. "God, her body... Seriously, I always love getting an eyeful whenever she comes over and insists to stay in her pajamas."

"Pft. Trust me, those types of girls... Half the time they're exactly as they appear. The other half of the time, they're secretly kinky bitches who'll tie you up and fuck you until you beg for mercy. But you'll still get hard for them."

"Wow, that's deep," Ryujin says, smirking. "That from experience? You fucking Christian girls without me?"

"Meh, I just knew the type." You shrug.

"Wait a second, did you and Karina—"

"No, no, we didn't get that far back then. Trust me, I'd be surprised at who I am right now."

"Yeah, an absolute manwhore."

You raise your hands in surrender. "I get the point." You look up at Ryujin, the moonlight filtering through her hair and outlining her face. "But back on topic, I think you should just tell her how you feel."

"But what if she doesn't feel the same way? Or if she does, what if she gets scared off? She's really sensitive about that stuff. I don't want to push her too far, and our friendship is important to me." Ryujin looks down; it's the most serious you've ever seen her about anything other than dancing, music, and you. You know in the whole list of priorities, her friendships are always number one, and you've always conceded to that. "If we couldn't do it, I would be fine with that."

"I don't know, just take it slow. Don't go in for a kiss, just... try something. Hold her hand. If she's uncomfortable, she'll let you know. And if she doesn't, then..." You trail off, the implication hanging heavy in the air.

Ryujin nods, but there's still a hint of doubt in her voice when she replies. "I can try, I guess. Thanks, baby."

You reach out and grab her hand, lacing your fingers together. The two of you stay like that for a few moments, listening to the faint sounds of the night, speeding cars, and distant cicadas crying out. You speak up, your voice low. "I have some insider news for you."

"Hm?"

"She's going to need a shoulder to cry on."

Ryujin contemplates it; you're unsure how deeply as you lean the driver seat back while Ryujin pushes down on your shoulders. The car bumps to a musical rhythm, silent save for the soft moans and groans.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

Well, now what's on your doorstep is a peculiar combination, really. Sieun and Somi don't have much in common besides their time at JYP and being idols. Oh, and they both speak English, although Somi is more fluent. But Sieun isn't too shabby at it either. Fortunately, they both possess a natural charm when it comes to meeting new people, allowing them to quickly form a bond, especially in the heat of the moment. Maybe you would’ve preferred just one, or just the other. Yet, you couldn't help it. You were double-booked.

“I’m sure we can work something out between the three of us,” Somi says with a smirk while comparing her forearm to your length, and Sieun nods.

Next thing you know, Sieun is taking the head of your cock into her mouth, her lips forming a perfect circle. The sensation of her warm tongue against your shaft sends hot pulses through your body, and her fingers wrap around the base of your member, around the head of your member when it strokes up.

Meanwhile, Somi directs her attention towards your balls as her hot breath tickles your sack. She skillfully licks, kisses, and sucks on them. The synchronization between the two is impeccable as if they have engaged in this act together countless times before (which they haven't because this is only their third time ever having seen each other in person). Your eyes are fixated on Somi's breasts, a stark contrast to Sieun's. Somi's bosom is larger and bounces like a buoy with each bob of her head. Her nipples are erect as well like two tiny beacons calling you to touch her.

Sieun slows down and pulls back just enough to leave her lips wrapped around your cockhead before she looks up at you through long, full lashes. The corners of her mouth are upturned into a smile. She swirls her tongue around the head of your member while her hand continues to stroke your base. Gazes up at you, her lips now red and slightly swollen. "You like watching me suck you off, don't you?"

"I love it," you say, your voice husky. "Your mouth feels so good."

She grins, her tongue flicking out to lick the tip of your dick. "You want more?"

"Fuck yes."

Somi, sensing your distraction, switches to teasing your shaft with her tongue and lips and hands. "What about me? What do you think about my mouth?"

"Y-yes," you reply, panting. You run your fingers through Somi's hair. "Your tits and your lips and your tongue... you look so fucking hot like this."

Somi hums in acknowledgment as she slides her tongue along the underside of your shaft, then lowers back to your balls, where her hands cup and gently massage them. "Mmm," she says, the vibrations of her voice on your testicles causing your thighs to tremble. "I'm gonna make you feel so good."

Your hips buck at the combined efforts of the girls' ministrations, their hot breaths and moist mouths covering every inch of your lower body. You think you've reached the peaks of your pleasure already when Somi ventures lower at the same time as Sieun. While Sieun puts her hands behind her back and uses only her lips to take you in, Somi spreads your cheeks open with both hands. And before you can even react, Somi's tongue is already pushing into your hole, hot and slick against your sensitive skin. The pleasure from her licking and probing your pucker sends waves of euphoria throughout your body. You moan louder than expected and grip the bedsheets tightly while your muscles contract involuntarily.

As Sieun takes in more of your shaft into her mouth, Somi withdraws her tongue, only to replace it with a finger, slick with saliva. It pushes past your rim with relative ease, but it still stings, and you let out a low hiss through your teeth as she slowly inserts her digit. You must already be unloading pre-cum into Sieun's mouth because that's the experience you've had with Ryujin whenever she's done this to you in the past. Somi only leaves a knuckle deep inside your hole, which is all she needs while her tongue returns to tease your balls. The feeling of her lips and teeth grazing your sack is a stark contrast to her gentle touch inside of you. When she pulls her finger back out, she replaces it with her tongue once again. She licks your rim in an almost lazy manner as if she doesn't care that she's doing this and could continue for hours.

The combination of their mouths and tongues and hands has your head spinning and vision blurring—you've drunk too much, yet your mouth is so dry.

Unfortunately, it appears that your girlfriend possesses some sort of uncanny radar for interrupting your most intimate moments. Your cell phone relentlessly rings and buzzes on the bedside table, disrupting the erotic symphony unfolding before you.

"Answer it," Somi says, looking up at you from between your legs. "I'm not stopping."

You reach out and grab your phone, your hand shaking. "H-hello?"

"Hey, baby. What are you up to?" Ryujin's voice sounds amused on the other end of the line.

You can only breathe heavily, between the woman slurping on your cock, and the other one keeping her promised tongue in your most sensitive region. "No, nothing. Just watching a movie." You’re not sure yourself why you lied there. Usually, that’s Ryujin, teasing you about who she’s with.

"Oh really? What's it about?" Ryujin's voice drips with curiosity.

You grunt as you desperately try to collect your thoughts amidst the tantalizing distractions. "Um... it's about this girl who's obsessed with her ex."

"That sounds interesting," she replies, her tone laced with amusement. "So, how is she obsessed?"

A shudder runs through your body as Sieun and Somi persist in their arousing endeavors, their tongues continuing to lavish attention upon your member and balls. "Um... she's like... she can't get over him, so she stalks him and stuff. But he's dating someone else now, and she's not happy about it."

"I see," Ryujin responds. "Sounds like quite a crazy movie you're watching."

"Mmhm," you manage to reply, struggling to suppress a moan as Somi grabs a bundle of Sieun's hair with her free hand and forces her further down onto your cock, her nose pressed against your pelvis, her lips stretched wide around your thick girth. A gag escapes from Sieun as she coughs and chokes on your meaty shaft for a moment. When she withdraws slightly, bubbles of spit form at the corner of her mouth, trailing down the shaft of your member and collecting in Somi's hands, and then she completely removes your cock from her mouth with an audible pop, a string of saliva dangling between her lips and your shaft.

"What happens next?" Ryujin asks on the other end of the phone.

"I don't know," you breathe out, trying to keep your voice steady despite the current events. "We're just starting. I don't know what the ending will be yet."

"I think I have an idea of where it might go," Ryujin says."By the way," Ryujin's voice interrupts your pleasure-induced haze, "before you cum down her throat, put me on speaker. I want to talk to her."

Your eyes widen in disbelief, a mix of pleasure and panic coursing through your veins. "What? No—"

"Put it on speaker," she insists firmly.

With a groan of surrender, you comply, hitting the speaker button on your phone and placing it on your stomach.

"Hey there, I'm Ryujin, and I'm this guy's girlfriend," Ryujin says, her voice coming out as a purr. "Do you mind telling me what you're doing to him right now?"

Sieun wipes her mouth with the back of her hand before replying. "O-oh, hey," she says as if she has any clue what's going on. "I-It's Sieun. Hi."

Ryujin gasps. "Sieun! It's been so long! We haven't met since you were in JYP. How've you been?"

Sieun's cheeks flush a deep pink, and she responds, "Um, good! I-I'm doing good."

Meanwhile, Somi doesn't even try to hide her grin as she takes over suction duty, her lips wrapped tightly around your shaft. You can feel her tongue swirling and teasing your tip, driving you wild with pleasure.

"Wait a minute..." Ryujin says. "Who's that? Is that another person?"

"Hah, Ryujih," Somi says, her voice muffled by your dick.

"No way," Ryujin laughs. "I can't believe this. Is that you, Somi?"

Somi spits out your dick and sits up straight. "Yep, it's me."

"Wah, wooow. You know, I definitely expected you, and maybe Sieun a little bit, but the two of you together... Wow. I never would've guessed. But, I mean, if you're both in on it, then I guess it's okay."

"Y-yeah," you say, trying to catch your breath as Somi resumes her assault on your senses.

"So, how do you feel about sucking my boyfriend's cock?" Ryujin asks, her voice filled with curiosity. "Is it good? Does it taste good?"

Sieun's eyes are half-lidded with lust, and she whispers, "It's really good."

"And what about you, Somi? You like sucking his dick too?"

"Yeah, it's great," Somi says, giggling. "He's so big."

Ryujin chuckles. "Oh my god. I can't believe it. You two are actually sucking his dick right now, aren't you? This isn't a prank call or something? Woah, I'm seriously in awe, you guys. That's awesome. I wish I could join in."

You moan, your cock throbbing between Somi and Sieun's mouths as Ryujin continues to chat with them, her voice a soothing balm to your frayed nerves. It's a surreal experience, how casually she's speaking with them about sucking your dick, and yet there they are, eagerly obeying her every command. Ryujin tells them to take turns deepthroating you—they comply, their tongues caressing your shaft while their lips wrap tightly around your base. Then, Ryujin tells Somi to cover your cock in spit, and Somi does so: saliva drips from her lips as she drools all over your shaft. Next, Ryujin commands Sieun to lick Somi's spit off your balls, and Sieun happily laps up every drop before Ryujin has Somi spit again. Ryujin tells them to make out for as long as possible while simultaneously trying to fit your cock between their lips, and Somi and Sieun do just that—they kiss as if their lives depended on it, unwilling to separate from one another until the last moment when they have to come up for air.

"Okay, I've had enough fun for now. I can make myself cum later with this," Ryujin says, panting. You picture her on her bed, phone in one hand and the other down her panties. "You can go off speaker now. I have something else to tell you, Oppa."

You take the phone off speaker and hold it up to your ear. "What is it?"

"First of all, I asked Karina out," she says, all excited. "Made it clear it was a date. And she was confused, and I think she still kinda is. But that's fine."

"Great for you," you say.

"Are you busy Saturday night?" Ryujin asks.

"Should be okay." This one comes out breathily as Somi starts to wrap her tits around your shaft.

"Perfect. Perfect. I think it'll be a lot better if you're there. Just in case. And maybe we can figure something out. So the other thing is you better..."

You forgot what she said, right up until your climax, when the order comes back to you. It was quite hard deciding on which idol to cum inside. Ultimately, Sieun took your creampie gladly, while Somi seemed happier at the chance of eating that same load out of Sieun.

No wonder you're so devoted to Ryujin: for this night alone, she deserves more than she knows.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

"Well, now what?" becomes Jaewook's question, and it's funny hearing it from him. The expected headlines are out now, busy schedule, break-up, blah, blah, blah. Somehow, he's made much more time for Somin, and you don't necessarily blame him for it. He's getting a lot less dumb hate, and for that, you're happy for him. But then, there are the headlines featuring you, and a certain two other idols at a cafe in the countryside. Seriously, the town has a population you can count on your fingers and toes. How did that happen?

You look around Jaewook's house; it's much nicer than yours, although it's a shame it's so empty with how big the rooms are. You notice yellow flowers on a stand; he has a good sense for fashion, not as much for interior decorating—that's the work of a woman with an eye for color. You can't help but wonder how close they are, to know so much about one another. You're not jealous. People find their own ways, and those ways change with the people they meet, or lose. You can't be jealous. Everything gained for one is everything lost for another.

Karina, in this way, is everything.

"I knew this would happen." Jaewook laughs to himself.

"You couldn't dream of a tenth of it."

"Alright, keep the mystery to yourself. I'm happy as is."

You nod, sipping your beer. "So, how's Somin?"

"She's good," he says, with a shrug. "A lot more time for each other. Just like you said."

"You don't regret anything?"

"I mean... obviously, you've got to, at least a little bit, right? You know, someone told me, if it's Karina, you clear your schedule, you quit your job, you better move the world for her. I've thought about it. But, there's no point in dwelling on it."

You can't help but let a grin spread across your face. "You know, I bet she's a lot less uptight."

"Really? I didn't get that notion from Karina the times we talked... but I guess we never got that deep."

You shrug. "We can't all be lucky as you and me."

"You say that, but you're the one with a girlfriend who knows exactly how to keep you happy. And now, two girlfriends?"

"It's complicated. Karina, well... she's just a friend. But, you know, I just wanted to hear it from you. We're cool, right? Like, you have nothing against me?" you ask.

"Sure," Jaewook says, "whatever. When I found out you two were exes, I realized everything. In fact, are you sure you can keep doing... whatever it is you and Ryujin do?"

"That's a good point. I guess, hm, I'll cross that bridge when we get there. But forget about that. We're good?"

"Yeah," he says. "We're good."

You clink your beers together. "Great."

Guys are easy, you've learned. Even the ones who are your supposed competition in life are simple as hell. It's a blessing and a curse that a beer and a lent ear are all it takes. And even if Jaewook didn't need it, you needed his. He was right, as much as you don't want to admit. The question of how you and Ryujin can keep things up without hurting Karina is something you haven't considered in any depth. And now that the thought is planted in your head, it's all you can think about.

When it comes to girls...

They're easy too, you've learned. But then, they're also difficult, not by some inherent property, but by the world making it so. Maybe you can graze at this feeling, with the challenges and expectations and scrutinies as an actor, but if you ever felt the need to write an apology for having your own heart and your own mind—then, you'd presume, fault lays on the shoulders of others, not yourself.

No. It's not about guys, girls, or the world and its difficulty.

It's you and the mess that you've made.

Then again, there is no real harm in making some more.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

"Well, now what?"

You're at a party, a surprisingly big one for you, for once. There are some familiar faces, and some not so familiar. Most importantly, your two girlfriends are there. How's that for a statement? That's right, Ryujin and Karina, your hot and sexy threesome girlfriends, together at a party with you.

It's been a week or two since the gossip went viral. No one believes the three of you are dating, and that would be the truth. A more accurate assessment of the current situation is that you're dating Ryujin and Ryujin is dating Karina. Considering the history between you and Karina, you'd say that's for the better.

At this moment, you're not together with Ryujin and Karina at the party, unsure where either of them went. Instead, you're on the third floor of this huge house, sharing some strong, over-sweet mixed drink with Minji, Yoonjung, Jiwon, and Soobin. You're surprised to see Minji here at all, considering she just started drinking recently. If anything, you'd think she might join the other fromis_9 girls in their own circle. Meanwhile, as expected, Jiwon is the odd Fromis member out, the loudest, the social butterfly. Yoonjung is the only fellow actor, who of course you know from Jaewook, so most of your time is spent talking to her, and so far, Soobin hasn't said much. Didn't expect him to. So you're surprised when he speaks up first.

"What do you mean?" he asks.

"What do you mean 'what do you mean'?" you reply.

"Like, when you say 'now what?' Because you say that a lot," Soobin replies, in a measured tone.

"Uh... I dunno. I kinda just get bored sitting still. I wanna know what's the next scoop, or what's the next move, whatever. Like, what's your plan now? I'm surprised that you're already done with Ryujin. It's only been a few weeks. What happened?"

Soobin places his hand over your mouth and pulls you away from the girls to the corner of the room—looks almost like a kidnapping, making Minji and Jiwon's eyes wide. His smile placates them, that damned adorable smile. "Yah," he says, "what's wrong with you? You can't just say that."

To be fair, the music was loud, and the conversation was very hush. You smile sheepishly. "Sorry. Guess I'll play it safer next time. Oh, come on, we're all celebrities here, I think everyone knows about Ryujin and I by now. And Karina too. And you, and Yunjin, and Yeonjun, and—"

He laughs. "You're so funny. Seriously, you're going to give me a heart attack."

You snort. "Alright, alright, whatever. But you're done with her?"

"Yeah, well," Soobin leans in to whisper, "she's been killing me recently."

You don't need him to elaborate further. You understand. "Sorry to hear that. She's a lot of work, huh?"

"Don't I know it." He takes a sip of his drink and shakes his head. "But it's fine. I mean, it's not like it's just me. Everyone else is dealing with it, too. I feel bad for the guy she's dating now."

You raise an eyebrow. "I'm doing just fine, thank you very much."

Soobin chuckles. "Oh yeah, sure. You're a real saint, you know that? I don't know how you manage her, let alone all the other girls."

"It's not that hard," you say, smirking. "You just gotta be smart about it."

Soobin nods, taking another swig of his drink. "You make it sound like a piece of cake. I think I need a break for now."

"Alright, thanks for letting me know. You didn't have to, or anything, it's really between you and her, but whatever. You're a great guy. If you ever want to try again, I'm sure she's down, but you could let me know too. I'll put in a good word." You bump his shoulder. "Just buy me some chicken or something."

"Deal," Soobin says. You're about to leave before you hear Soobin say, "Yeah." He laughs, maybe a tad too loudly, and shakes his head in disbelief. "You're so ridiculous. This is so ridiculous."

The two of you exchange a brief hug before parting ways, leaving you alone in the crowd of people. You take out your phone and check the messages from Karina, asking if you're free tonight. You know she's probably upstairs hanging out with the JYP girls, like Chaeyoung and Haewon, although you're not sure who else is at this party. But, as much as you'd like to, you can't be everywhere. You send a reply that you're still busy drinking with Minji and Jiwon, and you'll see her soon enough.

As you slip your phone back into your pocket, a familiar deep voice cuts through the ambient noise and captures your attention. "Hey, babe. You got a moment?"

You turn, and there she is, Ryujin, approaching with her signature magnetic allure. Clad in a black minidress that clings to her curves, her stilettos click against the ground with each step. You can tell she isn't bothering with a bra underneath, as her chest sways with each movement, her nipples straining against the fabric. Her flawless makeup accentuates her features, while soft waves of hair cascade around her shoulders. "Sure," you reply, unable to resist the pull she has on you, and then embrace her in a quick hug.

Grabbing your arm, Ryujin pulls you closer. "I need you. Now."

"For what?" you respond, unable to suppress a smirk.

She licks her lips. "How about we go somewhere more private?"

You nod, your heartbeat quickening at the thought. It's not like this is your first time with her, but it always feels like it. Her presence has a way of commanding attention, especially when she's looking as sexy as she is now. "Lead the way."

The two of you make your way through the crowd of people, heading towards the stairs. You catch sight of Yuna and Yeji on the second-floor landing, speaking animatedly with a group of people. Avoiding eye contact with Yeji (things are complicated enough as is), you instead make eye contact with Karina in the circle. You're not sure you can decipher her expression so quickly, but she waves at you and smiles, before returning to whatever conversation she's having. Return the gesture and keep following Ryujin, who leads you down the hall. You notice a couple making out against the wall, and Ryujin glances at them before giving you a wink. She pulls you into one of the rooms, closes the door behind you.

The room is shrouded in darkness, with only a faint glow seeping in from underneath the door. "I didn't realize you had such a spacious house," you remark, taking in your surroundings.

"Tsk, I wish. But I don't feel like wasting time talking." She sits down on the edge of the bed, legs crossed. "Come here. I want you."

A moth to a flame, you stand before her. "You're awfully pushy today."

She giggles. "What can I say? Sometimes, I like having you to myself. Especially when you look like that." Every time Ryujin compliments your appearance, a tinge of self-consciousness washes over you, a person who typically pays little attention to clothing choices. Tonight, it's a simple black button-up shirt and jeans. She reaches out and runs her fingers over the fabric of your shirt and tugs at the buttons until they come undone one by one. "Ah, that's better. Let me get a good look at you."

You understand why men and women alike fall under her spell—the precision with which she controls each word, every action, and the way she effortlessly stirs desire within you. Helpless, you stand there as she takes in the sight of your bare chest, her fingers tracing the contours of your stomach. "You're so strong," she murmurs. "I love that about you."

"Yeah, well, I have to keep up with you." You lean forward, place your hands on her shoulders, then push her back until she's lying down. You hover over her. "Heard you've been wearing out some poor soul."

Ryujin smirks as hands slide up your arms. "Oh, you heard about that? I guess word gets around fast."

"Is that all you've been doing while I've been busy?" you ask, your hand caressing her thigh with deliberate slowness.

"I wouldn't say that. I've been keeping myself entertained." She bites her lip. "I know you have. You should have recorded Arin doing anal. That must've been so hot. You know how many times I made myself cum just remembering how you described it? Fuuck, fuck... I'm already getting wet again." 

You palm her breast through her dress, your grip not staying kind for long. You grin at the pretty noise she makes."Yeah, it was pretty amazing. But I think we both know what's even better."

"You're right. I want you inside me."

You slide your hand further up her leg, closer to her core. "Say it."

Whatever might have been in the air, alcohol or static or lust made into the scent of a room, a knock at the door clears it.

"It... it's me. Karina," comes a muffled, hesitant voice.

"Shit," Ryujin mutters. "Just a second." She pushes you back gently and rises to open the door.

And there she is, Karina, standing before you in the flesh, clad in a similarly tight and black outfit as Ryujin. Her dress, though not revealing as much leg, compensates with an open back that adds to her allure. The two girls embrace each other before stepping inside and closing the door. Then Ryujin goes in for a kiss; it's like watching a movie. They start slow, then it gets heated too soon as her body folds into Ryujin's. Maybe Ryujin was right—you could feel a pang of jealousy seeing your girlfriend with your ex. You're not sure you've ever kissed either woman with as much fervor, at least not Karina. When they part, it's as though you've just watched the most beautiful scene in a film, and you're still trying to process the emotions it evoked.

"Hi. Ryujin. Hi, hi," Karina says to Ryujin, her voice quiet. She looks at you. "Hi, Oppa."

"Hey," you reply. "What's up?"

"I saw the both of you heading in here, and I was... I had, had to know..." Already, she's out of breath, worked up.

Ryujin pulls Karina closer, locking the door behind them, and the three of you settle into a circle on the bed. "What did you need to know, Karina?" Ryujin asks, leaning in closer to the other girl.

"I-I'm sorry for following you here," Karina stammers, her gaze fixed on the floor as she folds her hands in her lap.

"Don't worry, you're not interrupting anything," Ryujin assures her with a smile, intertwining their fingers. "We were just talking."

Karina's eyes briefly flicker over your bare torso. "Are you sure?" she asks.

"Mhm. In fact, I think you arrived at the perfect time," Ryujin replies, planting a quick kiss on Karina's cheek. "I think we all need this tonight."

Karina nods slowly. "Okay... if you're sure." After a prolonged pause, she sighs and shakes her head. "I'm sorry if I've ruined things between the two of you. Ever since that date, I've been acting weird, and I'm sure you've noticed. But I don't want to jeopardize your relationship or anything like that."

Exchanging a meaningful glance with Ryujin, who seems amused by the situation, you turn to Karina and speak reassuringly: "It's fine. We understand. And, for what it's worth, you haven't ruined anything. In fact, I think you've helped us." You've reiterated this many times before to Karina, but insecurity lingers, understandably so.

Ryujin grins, sparkling eyes. "Yes, you've been quite the help." She wraps an arm around Karina's waist, pulls her closer, and places a tender kiss on her cheek. "You're amazing."

Karina blushes. "I'm glad."

"Come on," Ryujin says. "We can keep going from where we left off before you so rudely interrupted us."

"I don't know," Karina admits, shaking her head. Her cross necklace bounces against her chest as her gaze lingers on your exposed upper body. You catch the way she bites her lower lip, the way her pupils dilate with desire whenever her eyes meet yours.

"God, you're so cute," Ryujin says, deeply. "You know that?"

"You're not helping," Karina mumbles.

"Do you want me to kiss you again?" Ryujin asks as she cups Karina's face and turns it towards her.

Karina swallows hard. "This is wrong. You know this isn't right. We, what we've been doing, we were just, playing around. Pretending, like... we're not really..."

Ryujin silences her protest. Kisses her deeply. Tongue slips into the other girl's mouth. Karina melts into the kiss while Ryujin's hand slips under her skirt. Ryujin pulls away, panting. "Does that feel wrong?"

"No," Karina breathes out. "Yes. It feels so wrong, oh my god. T-two women, we, shouldn't... no... no, this is bad... this is really bad."

Ryujin puts her lips on Karina's neck. "If you want me to stop, just tell me."

You've never been so aroused in your life, seeing your girlfriend kiss your ex-girlfriend, watching them make out, their bodies pressed together. It's almost surreal, but at the same time, it feels natural. This is how the world is supposed to be, or at least how it's supposed to repay you, Ryujin, and especially Karina. For now, you don't mind being witness to this spectacle, as long as you get a taste of the action.

"Don't stop," Karina whispers, her voice husky. "Please, Ryujin."

Ryujin looks at you, and she knows how badly you want to join in; her eyes tell you that. But you also know she wants to take her time with Karina, to savor every moment. She turns her attention back to the girl beneath her, kisses her again, and explores her mouth with her tongue. Karina is vocal to Ryujin's every touch, starting from fingers running through dark hair, moving down to gentle massages of her neck and shoulder—then, a less gentle kneading of Karina's ample chest over her dress.

There's a plea in Karina's eyes. Please, don't let me moan so deeply, at this lecherous act, at this outright lust. Ryujin does not listen—how can she, above the music outside and the sweet noises coming from her lover? She gropes Karina's breasts with greater intensity and slides her knee between Karina's legs. That knee is a weapon of seduction and lust, and with its power, Ryujin grinds her leg against the crotch of Karina's panties.

Karina's eyes roll back. Ryujin moves down Karina's body, a serpent or a nymph or a succubus, which is enough to make Karina give in and wrap her legs around Ryujin's waist, her arms around Ryujin's neck.

"That's it," Ryujin coos, the temptation of one goddess to make another fall where she stands, assuming she can stand at all when under such a spell. "Give in to your desires."

Your eyes scan over Ryujin's body: smooth thighs wrapped in black stockings, the curve of her ass—which she emphasizes as she sits back and spreads her legs—and a;. "Just let go, baby. Give yourself to me."

You can see the conflict in Karina's eyes. She wants to do as Ryujin says, but she also doesn't want to betray her principles. (What principals, you might ask; this isn't Sunday school.) You wonder how far you can push her. You move closer to them, your hand reaching out and touching Karina's arm. Her eyes snap open with wide-eyed shock.

"It's okay," you say softly. "Just relax."

"But..." Karina trails off, looking away. "I... I can't."

"You can," Ryujin says, kissing her neck. "Because," Ryujin's voice lowers, "you're a good girl."

Karina bites her lip though Ryujin is the one with fangs.

"Yeah, that's it. You're such a good girl." Ryujin licks at her neck, and the girl shivers, but she leans in closer to her touch. "My good girl," Ryujin repeats as if saying it will make it so, and the world has a funny way of answering Ryujin. "Aren't you?"

The devil's flaw was that he was but one creature: you, by contrast, are an accomplice to Ryujin's game. "Yes, you are." You lean down and kiss Karina's cheek, so she shivers at the contact. You press your lips against her ear. "You're a good girl."

Ryujin matches your every peck with one of her own. The twin pair makes her mind melt along with her body, and soon, you've worked her into a fever pitch.

"Fuck," Karina whispers, to make sure the profanity doesn't reach whoever might punish her. She's too loud, too late for that, and you're not complaining. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

You look at Ryujin, who has an approving smile on her lips, which nip at Karina's skin. Between long kisses and short breaths, Ryujin asks, "What do you think Oppa and I were doing when you showed up?"

"I don't know," Karina responds. "I, I really don't know."

Rest your hands on Karina's hips and kiss her deeply. She gasps as you bite her bottom lip, sucking it between your teeth. When you let go, your voice commanding and low, you say, "Be honest. You know. I bet you pictured it as soon as we walked past you. I bet you picture it every time you see me and Ryujin together."

"I..."

"Karina, I know you touch yourself. All the time," Ryujin says, her hand caressing Karina's thigh. "It's obvious. Even a few days ago, you excused yourself to go to the bathroom, and you came back looking all flustered and embarrassed."

Karina's face flushes red, her eyes darting away. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh come on," Ryujin says. "Don't try to hide it. You were thinking about me and Oppa fucking. You wanted to watch. To join us." She kisses Karina again, her hands gripping the girl's hips, pulling her closer. "You want it so bad, don't you? And so you followed us here. You're such a naughty girl."

She denies it for a third time. A rooster crows. "I... I'm sorry," Karina says, her voice barely above a whisper.

"It's okay. I don't mind. I like it." Ryujin smiles, her eyes locked with Karina's. "But you know what I like even more? What I want most? It's for you to finally be honest with yourself. I know you're still holding back. I know you want to give in. Don't you?"

Karina looks between you and Ryujin, her eyes full of uncertainty and desire.

You step in, addressing Ryujin. "Baby. She clearly has a lot on her mind. I have an idea. How about while she thinks about her decision, you and I do what we were planning for a while."

"Mmm," Ryujin smiles at you, steps closer to your embrace. "I like the sound of that, Oppa."

Holding Karina's shoulders, you say, "If you want to go, that's fine. If you want to just watch, that's fine, too. Or, if you want to try something, Ryujin and I can help you, right baby?"

Ryujin nods, and Karina nods too, with all the certainty a mumbling mouse would possess.

"S-so, what do, what do I do?" Karina asks.

Ryujin gestures at her. "Sit on the bed. There, good, thank you." Then, Ryujin wraps her legs around you, her arms embracing your neck and kissing you hard. "You better give Karina a show."

"What did you have in mind?" you ask.

"The usual," Ryujin says, keeping her face close.

The usual involves you and Ryujin having a lot fewer clothes by now; however, after you're disrobed to your bare essentials, you stop Ryujin from doing the same—you like the way that the dress clings to her figure, the fabric hiking up past her thighs, so instead, you only tug away her panties from under the dress.

"This is all about Karina," you say to Ryujin, making sure you're loud enough for your ex to hear. You put Ryujin on the bed and kiss her neck, your hands sliding over her body, moving up her dress. "I'm gonna fuck you while I look at her, pretend like it's her."

"Oh my god, that's so fucking hot," Ryujin says, her voice strained.

You grab Ryujin's jaw and turn her head, so she looks at Karina. You speak in a low whisper in her ear, "I'm gonna make you scream for her."

"Yes, yes, yes..."

The stage is set. Now, it's time to begin the performance. For the first act, much-chided missionary—as much as Ryujin and you love exploring positions, there are times when you just want to be inside each other. This is exactly one of those times, especially in service of poor and sweet Karina, who you're unsure if she's ever seen this much sex in her life. And the promise is that you're fucking Ryujin as you would—will—Karina, so let the virginal girl see how it's done. Ryujin lies on the bed, her dress pushed up to her hips. Inspired by Karina's cleavage, you take the neckline of Ryujin's dress and push it down, revealing her breasts. They're a tad smaller than Karina's, but still nice. Her nipples are hard and flushed pink, a perfect match to the blush on her face.

You kneel between her legs, stroking your cock.

"Is this how you want me?" she asks, putting on a cute voice, while she reaches a hand down to spread her pussy open. "Am I a good girl, Oppa?"

"You're so sexy," you say, leaning forward to kiss her. "I love you."

"Mmm, I love you too," she says, moaning as your cock brushes against her pussy. More severely—"Now fuck me. Fuck me like you want to fuck Karina."

You nod, lining yourself up with Ryujin's entrance, and as promised instead of looking into your sweet girlfriend's eyes, you look over at Karina. She's frozen in place, her mouth hanging open. You give her a smile before pushing inside Ryujin, your cock sliding easily into her wet hole. But as much as you savor the familiar feeling of Ryujin's tight pussy wrapped around your cock, you focus on Karina. Her eyes are wide, her cheeks are flushed, and her breathing is heavy. She looks so gorgeous. You start to thrust slowly into Ryujin, trying to imagine it's her instead.

Karina holds her hands in front of her mouth, watching as you continue to pump into Ryujin. The contrast between you and Ryujin's slutty moans and the innocent gaze of her former lover gives you a sexual cocktail you can never get enough of. Ryujin hooks her legs around your waist, forcing you deeper into her pussy. Your hands grip her hips tightly as you fuck her harder. Your eyes are locked on Karina's, your voice is husky and low.

"I wonder if you're just as tight. Or wet. Don't you want to know? Just come over here. Come feel. You'll see."

Karina swallows hard while her eyes dart between you and Ryujin. She licks her lips, and her fingers fidget nervously. The desire in her eyes, the need to give in to her urges, the hunger is like pain and sorrow and conflict and it might make you apologize if you were a better man but you're a worse man, and happier for being so. Her eyes dart from your face to Ryujin's, and you notice her dress shift the barest amount—was she touching herself?

"Come on," Ryujin says, panting. "Don't be shy."

Karina hesitates, then slowly gets up and approaches the bed. She sits next to you, her eyes fixed on your cock sliding in and out of Ryujin's pussy. You lean over and kiss her cheek, your breath hot against her skin. "You can touch it," you whisper.

She takes a deep breath and places her hand on your cock, gasping as she feels the heat radiating from your member; it's slick with Ryujin's juices. Karina runs her fingers over your shaft, exploring every inch of it. "So big," she murmurs, her voice barely audible.

You thrust harder into Ryujin to earn her nails digging into your back, an often-earned and always-treasured hurt. "Yes, yes, yes," she cries, contorts, and arches her back while her pussy tightens around your cock. "Fuck me harder. Show me how you'd fuck Karina."

Pace picks up. You have your hands on Ryujin's breasts, but as much as you love your girlfriend's body, all you can think about is Karina's more sizeable and weighty and all-around better tits. There is no need to consult Ryujin about this—it is the truth, self-evident and wholly transparent, and you know she would be glad to get a feel or taste of them for herself.

Not letting your imagination go to waste, you turn to Karina, kissing her neck softly, then move down to her chest. She gasps as you cup her breast with your free hand, kneading it firmly, enough that you can feel her nipple hardening against your palm through the fabric of her dress. "Mmm, you're so soft." Your voice is low and husky.

Ryujin's voice is high and whining: "Your cock feels so good." She reaches down to rub her clit. "And her tits... fuck, baby, I want to feel them too."

Despite her suggestion, Karina is locked in place, shuddering under your touch as you continue to squeeze her chest like putty in your hands. Her lips part slightly as she lets out a soft moan; the sight of you fucking Ryujin must be driving her insane, must be the first thing she pictured when she saw you and Ryujin together for the first time, must be replaying in her mind over and over again. You can tell by the way her pupils dilate whenever you thrust into Ryujin's pussy, how her breath quickens as you caress her breast, and how her hips buck involuntarily when you pinch her nipple.

"Can you hear how wet Ryujin is? She's so turned on by the thought of me fucking you. The way I'm treating her like a little toy." Every time your shaft hilts, the sound of squishing and cum dripping along with her, it's a noise that is both obscene and arousing, a noise that can only come from the worldly pleasures of the flesh. You're making a mess out of Ryujin, as always. "So are you, Karina?"

She nods, slower than the pot boiling over, slower than a clock ticking—certainly slower than the heat rising within her body.

Ryujin turns and faces Karina. "He's so big. He's filling me up... and he's gonna fill me up so good. This could be you, Karina. He could fuck you so good, fuck!"

"I... I can't," Karina whispers, her voice trembling. "I shouldn't... my first time... marriage."

"Forget marriage. You want to, don't you?" you ask, kissing her neck.

"I don't know," she says, shaking her head.

"It's okay," Ryujin says, her voice breathy and strained. "We won't tell anyone. Just let go."

You pull out of Ryujin, making her whine in protest. You look at Karina. "Do you want me to fuck you? Do you want to feel my cock inside you?" You take her wrist and place her hand on your dick, to let her feel how hard it is. "You can touch it again. See how much I want you."

Karina lets out a small whimper as she feels your cock throb in her hand. She strokes it with the sureness of a surgeon who's never seen a body, her eyes locked on your anatomy. The call for your name is barely audible, rings in your ears all the same.

"Do you want to see how good I make Ryujin feel? How she screams for me?"

Listen, the delicious desperation in Karina's voice. "I do." She says it like she's responding a different question she's made up in your head—here, you can do it too: do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband—and the excuses fall away from her like dead leaves from the branches in winter. She's thawed out, blissful and necessary to touch and so very warm.

You position yourself behind Karina, kissing her neck softly as you unzip her dress. You push it down her shoulders, revealing the pale skin of her back and her underwear, the matching black bra and panties.

Ryujin massages Karina's core through her panties, a satisfied smirk on her lips as she watches the other girl writhe in pleasure. "You're soaking wet."

"I'm not," Karina protests weakly.

Ryujin continues stroking Karina's pussy over her panties, drawing another moan from the girl beneath her. "Mhm. Sure."

"How about this, baby girl? We can take it slow. Take off your panties, and spread your legs, just a little bit, and I'll just rub the tip of my cock on your pussy. Then we can play with your thighs." You whisper into her ear, "If you want me to stop, just say the word. But I think you want it."

Karina shivers and breathes faster yet just nods silently. Lifts her hips and slides her panties off. Drops them dead to the floor. Spreads her legs.

You've waited so long. Not just tonight. Not just since she last broke up. Not just when you became friends or when you were still in love. It's been months and years of wanting; it's everything, and more. Of all the women who have come and gone from your life, Karina's presence remains undisturbed and ever-present—a ghost that haunts the halls of your heart with a sweet and melancholy song. Her skin is so soft under your fingers as you caress her thigh. You examine her with reverence and wonder, most of all her pussy, because of all the women you've seen (and you've seen a lot), Karina has the nicest pussy, a perfect and pink pussy, one that is begging to be filled by your cock.

"That's it," you murmur. Run your fingers through her wet folds and grab her ass with one hand. "Such a good girl."

You press the tip of your cock against her entrance. "Wait, w-wait," Karina stammers, her eyes wide with panic.

Ryujin strokes her hair and grabs your shaft, aligning it away from Karina's virginity. "Shh, it's okay. Just relax." She presses your cock against Karina's clit, rubbing it up and down, and Karina gasps, her body tensing. "Does that feel good?"

"Do you like it when I rub your pussy with my cock?" you ask.

"Mmm… yes," Karina says.

"Good." Ryujin keeps stroking your cock against Karina's sensitive nub, which draws another moan from the girl. Karina squirms and her face flushes a deep crimson. "Let him play with your tits."

"Oh my god," Karina gasps, her hands gripping the sheets tightly. You reach around and cup her breasts through her bra—you're closer to her nipples this way, can pinch them between your fingers easily—before you finally free them from their restraints. They're so much softer than Ryujin's—softer than anything you've ever felt. Your fingers knead the tender flesh of her chest, reveling in the way they fit perfectly in your palms, and the nubs are a stiff pink against her pale skin. "Oh god."

"I think she likes this," you say with a chuckle. "I'm going to make you feel so good." You push your cock between her thighs, rub it against her pussy, and savor the way she clamps her legs together. "Fuck, that's hot."

Karina whimpers, squirms underneath you, but you grip her hips to keep her still. As you slide from in and out of her thighs, Ryujin bends over, placing kisses on Karina's waist—then her mouth aims lower. Karina cries out as Ryujin begins to lick her pussy. You've never seen your girlfriend eat with this much gusto before, slurping and sucking at the other girl's juices like they're the tastiest dessert on earth. Without a doubt, Ryujin loves what she's doing.

"Oh god, oh fuck!" Karina does too.

You thrust through Karina's legs, and Ryujin sucks on your tip as it pokes out. Karina is falling apart at the seams, amidst the friction of your length, the ministration of Ryujin's mouth, and just from how guilty and great it all feels.

"Good, good girl," Ryujin says. "This is okay, right? You can still be a good girl."

"I... yes," Karina says breathily. "I'm, I'm a good girl."

You suck on Karina's neck, nibbling at her flesh as your cock grinds against her soaked slit, wet enough to make a mess of her thighs, of Ryujin's lips, of your dick. It could be so easy to just thrust your entire length inside her, until you're balls deep, and do your job. You can taste her nervousness. You can feel it in the way her body tenses, the way she grips the sheets with white knuckles.

"You want to cum so bad, don't you?"

Karina only replies to Ryujin with a whimper. Ryujin smiles as she runs her tongue along Karina's pussy again, then when she suctions hard on her clit, Karina cries out. "Since you're such a good girl..." Ryujin says. "You shouldn't cum. A good girl shouldn't cum... unless Oppa's cock is inside you."

Spreading Karina's legs, Ryujin takes control of your cock to suck and taste Karina's body fluids off of it. Karina can only watch with wide eyes as Ryujin cleans your shaft. She's in even more disbelief when Ryujin pushes her aside to give you a more earnest blowjob, stroking your dick hard with her free hand while she peppers your length with sloppy kisses, especially along the ridge. You can't hold back a barrage of expletives.

Lying next to you in awe, Karina has eyes like a deer in the headlights.

"Do you want something, Karina?" Ryujin asks.

"I want... want to cum."

"Tsk, tsk, didn't I already tell you? Good girls don't get to cum unless it's on Oppa's dick."

Karina's eyes dart between you and Ryujin. She swallows hard, then nods slowly. "Okay."

"Okay?" you ask, stunned at the sudden acquiescence.

"I, I can't take it anymore. I need to cum. Please, Oppa. Fuck me. I want to cum. I need it so bad. I'll do anything."

"Such a good girl," Ryujin says, her voice husky. She positions herself behind Karina, wrapping her arms around the girl's body and cupping her breasts. Karina is on her back, just as Ryujin had been before, but now she receives Ryujin's continual praise. "You're so beautiful. You're such a good girl. You deserve this."

You kneel before Karina and take in the sight of her lying there, looking up at you with wide eyes full of uncertainty. That was the same uncertainty as the first time you asked her out, years ago. The uncertainty when you tried the first time to get into her pants—she's never let you go very far past kissing. The same uncertainty when the two of you had to break up. That uncertainty when she learned you and Ryujin were dating. And now, as Ryujin deepens the kiss, your gaze locks with Karina's, and she's just as nervous and aroused as she's ever been. You push Karina's knees apart and run your fingers through her wet folds.

Karina watches as you line yourself up with her entrance, her chest heaving as she holds her breath in anticipation.

"Are you ready?" you ask, your voice low and husky. Your hand travels from her hip to her smooth, flat stomach. Then, you grab Ryujin's hand as it rests on Karina's soft and heavy chest, now exposed to the air and free to be touched, squeezed, and played with by all of you. You can't believe you're going to be doing this—your ex and your current girlfriend, all while you watch in awe. This is the life of the party, not the loud music, nor the rowdy crowds, nor the alcohol. This is real.

Karina looks at your cock, unable to believe the size of it, or unable to look you in the eye—Ryujin takes hold of your shaft and rubs it against Karina's pussy, and at the same time, grabs Karina's chin to force her to look into your eyes. "Answer him," she says.

"I'm ready," Karina murmurs.

"What? We couldn't hear you, babe," you say with a smirk. You press the tip of your cock against her entrance and push it inside an inch, making her gasp as you stretch her pussy.

"Oh my god" sounds perfect out of Karina's mouth, a sobbed, whiny, desperate moan of a blasphemer who needs to be redeemed in your arms, so different from the deep and throaty moans of Ryujin. It's so cute, just like Ryujin said. A cute virgin girl who's so caught up in this moment, in how your length fills her up like the most worthwhile sin. And as you disappear within Karina's folds, inch by inch, she stares up at you with a mixture of pain and pleasure, her body shaking with every new sensation.

"Say it," Ryujin says firmly.

Karina swallows hard and looks into your eyes. Her voice is barely above a whisper, "Please fuck me, Oppa."

That's enough for you, enough for Ryujin to rub her clit and pinch her nipple and suck on her neck; so the fact that you're a handful of strokes in and she's already cumming isn't unexpected, but her reaction is. She thrashes around under you as wave after wave of ecstasy hits her. It's all you can do to hold her steady, gripping her hips and burying yourself balls deep inside her. Such a powerful climax must've been made even more so by how you continue to pound into her. She's overwhelmed, overloaded—over the edge—with pleasure.

"Oh god, oh god," she chants, her body trembling. "Oh my god."

It's almost a pity Karina cums so easily, instead of having her work for it, like a good girl; but it's only the first round of the night, and she has all the time to learn how to earn an orgasm.

"Woah," Ryujin says, expression impressed as she watches Karina squirm. "She came fast."

Karina opens her eyes to meet your gaze. "I... I'm sorry."

"You're sorry? No, it's okay," Ryujin reassures her.

Karina nods slowly, tears welling up in her eyes.

You take advantage of how you're still buried within Karina's depths to reach down and kiss away one of her tears. Something inside you makes you think that isn't the reason why she's apologizing, but it's close enough for now. It doesn't matter. You're going to fuck the guilt out of Karina until she takes the lord's name only in vein as it molds her pussy. "You can worry about apologizing after you show us how long you can keep up with us," you say, smirking as you pull out of her slowly, until the head of your cock is the only part of your shaft that still fills her entrance.

Ryujin runs her hand through Karina's hair, wiping away her tears and looking into her eyes. "You're so sexy." Her voice is a seductive whisper. "You know that?" She reaches down and caresses Karina's cheek before pressing her lips against hers, kissing her deeply. "Do you know how long I've wanted this?"

Karina breaks eye contact, unable to hold Ryujin's intense stare. "I... I had no idea," she replies in a whisper.

You thrust into Karina again, burying your length inside her and drawing a cry of pleasure from the girl beneath you. You repeat this slow movement again and again and again—for every thrust, Ryujin kisses Karina on the lips, cheeks, neck, ear—while whispering praises into her ears, while making her feel like an angel sent from heaven while keeping her mind on her and you as you take her virginity. You can see how badly she wants to hold onto the last shreds of whatever holding her back, to resist Ryujin's advances, but the more you and Ryujin work in tandem to force these moans out of her throat, the less she holds onto.

Oh, you have plenty to hold onto. You could spend the rest of your life pontificating about Karina's tits, and it feels like the rest of your life because if you die right on the hills that you're sinking fingers into, massaging—even smacking to leave your mark and watch how they recoil—then you'd die the greatest man to have ever lived. And what else is there to be?

Where else is there to be but where you are now, to be in Karina's pussy, clenching and unclenching around your dick like your cock is a part of her body? (Might as well be.)

If this were a place, you can imagine the city.

By the trumpet cry, the walls have fallen—shit, if you had any shame, it'd be gone by the time Ryujin's mouth got to work; Karina is no greater than you as a mess of moans and sobs, murmurs, and curses as she lies there on her back with a smile on her face and a glint in her eyes while Ryujin moves between the two of you to capture either clit or cock in her mouth, exchanging between the two. Whenever you're focused on pistoning inside Karina's pussy, she's lapping away at whatever is exposed to the air. Whenever you pull out for a break or to change positions, Ryujin takes a few moments to tongue Karina's slit or to taste her juices off your cock. So how could there be resistance; how could there be any hesitation in Karina's body as she lies back, letting you take complete control of her body while Ryujin does as she pleases, a perfect storm of two dominant lovers ravaging this sweet, submissive flower who had been too long neglected.

Now, over embarrassment or guilt—Karina is a slut at heart. No, a bitch. A bitch who can't stop crying and moaning out your name because the two of you are putting in work to make her feel so fucking good. And she takes it, and she takes it, and she takes it. Would she have ever acted like this with anyone else? You don't think, even alone, you could ever turn Karina into such a sloppy, slutty mess. You can only guess that, paired with Ryujin, this is who she truly is.

This is why you and your co-conspirator are so compatible in this regard. You don't need to explain to Ryujin that you want to change positions, or that you're doing so because you need some reprieve; your eyes are enough for her to understand. She's already moving to help as you get Karina in an appropriate position, on all fours so that you can fuck her doggystyle from behind. Of course, it also happens that this lets Ryujin slide underneath Karina and eat her pussy out while your cock slides in and out of her entrance.

There is a hunger pang in Karina's gaze as she looks back. The poor woman drools, saliva dripping onto Ryujin's stomach. It's like she doesn't even notice because the way your cock slides into her so easily is too good, and she has to moan every time your balls slap against her thighs. The best thing about the sight of Karina like this—hair stuck to her face, makeup smeared across her cheeks, body covered in sweat—is the sheer bliss written across her features as she takes whatever pleasure the two of you offer.

Then you look down and see Ryujin's expression. It's not one of lust or desire or satisfaction, but one of amusement. She looks positively amused that you're giving everything to this girl, fucking her like you mean it, and she continues to be amused when Karina lowers her head into the bed, between Ryujin's thighs—Karina wants so badly to taste her girlfriend's pussy, but she doesn't know how, with no idea what to do or how to ask, and again, Ryujin just knows all this by the dumbfounded happy look on your face. To be fair, you're mainly in this unbridled glee at the sight of Karina face-down ass-up, and of Ryujin's face between Karina's legs—but it is true that you've got some sort of telepathy going on, because without a word you both reach a consensus in your minds.

"Don't you want to eat her pussy out?" you ask, tugging gently on Karina's hair so that she raises her head back up. A reprieve from getting fucked like crazy, while you lay your shaft flat on Ryujin's face. "I can smell how much she's been needing it."

"Your dick, dick, it's so... ah, hngh, put it back in, put it back in.!"

"Don't try to think about what Oppa's doing," Ryujin coos. "I'm right here." She wraps her arms around Karina's hips and pulls her closer, bringing her pussy closer to the other girl's lips, and you pull back to give them room. "Right here."

You're fine to sit back and enjoy the show while you watch Karina sixty-nine atop your girlfriend. Karina, still unsure what she's doing, stares down at Ryujin for a few long seconds before finally leaning in to give her an experimental lick. Then she closes her eyes and loses herself to the moment as she tastes Ryujin's essence for the first time.

"Good girl," Ryujin sighs as Karina's tongue enters her pussy. "Oppa is so jealous right now, he loves eating pussy. But your tight virgin hole was too good for me to pass up. If you don't know what to do, just follow what I'm doing."

The sight of Ryujin with her lips pressed against Karina's mound while Karina's head bobs up and down between Ryujin's legs makes you incredibly hard, but since you were already as hard as a diamond from fucking Karina so much, you're not sure what lab is going to need your dick, but there must be one doing incredibly important science that will save humanity that could use you for a research study. Karina has never done this before, because you hear her complain about her jaw and how it hurts, but she is so fucking cute.

You can hear her moans as Ryujin's mouth works its magic on Karina's folds, and the way Ryujin rolls her hips against Karina's face says plenty about how she's feeling too. You can understand: even the most amateur mouth is enough when you're getting worked so enthusiastically over. It's just a fact of life.

Maybe you do know guilt, even if you don't feel it, understand it as one might a distant cousin or a person you elected, but never met personally; it doesn't stop you from interjecting into the action with your cock sliding into the space between them: Karina's tender pussy lips and Ryujin's greedy mouth becomes the two cushion that you are sandwiched in-between. The sensation of being between them, the juices that drip onto your length, the saliva that moistens it, the moans that surround it, it is like nothing you've felt before. You're no stranger to having your shaft between two pairs of lips; whenever Ryujin invites one of her many friends to a threesome, there will usually be some oral exchange or another between whoever is getting railed by you and your girlfriend, but this is so different. This is so much more intimate. You look down and see Karina looking back and up at you.

Karina's eyes widen as you thrust your cock between her folds. "Ah... ahh, what?" She turns her head and stares at you with wild eyes, her expression full of surprise and confusion. "What... what are you doing?" She's asking, but she's also grinding back against you, making it clear that she enjoys the feeling of your length sliding along her folds.

"Mmm," Ryujin murmurs against Karina's mound. Her lips press against your cock and she smiles before letting out a soft moan, sucking the tip of your shaft. "This is so hot."

Karina gasps as Ryujin sucks on your cock, taking it into her mouth and licking your length with her tongue. She keeps grinding back against you—too late for her, your dick is down your girlfriend's throat—and thus in her depravity, Karina rubs her pussy against Ryujin's neck where it bulges with every push forward. Your girlfriend is throating you while she gets her pussy eaten out by a woman who should be innocent of such acts of debauchery—yet, one night is all it took for Karina to realize how wrong she's been. There's no use praying away the gay (praying bye to the bi, by the by), not when there's sin in its place. But in truth, this is not one night but the culmination of so much pent-up tension and need. So much waiting around. So much taking care of and consoling, and it's not that you were doing these on purpose, but if you had one unspoken truth between you and Ryujin—

It's that she and any man or any woman, other than you and Ryujin, had no chance of working out by your hands, by hers—but here, tonight, all of those months of patience have paid off for you and your lover. It doesn't matter if Karina didn't want to do this, didn't expect to do this; this was always meant to be her fate like missionaries planting the seeds of their religion into the soil of native lands.

You're anxious you might plant your seed in a place already well-tilled by yourself: Ryujin's stomach. It is not long before both of them start cumming like crazy, and all you can do is keep pounding your cock against your girlfriend's throat—as much as you told yourself you would hold back—while Karina squeals against her pussy, your shaft getting coated in saliva and pussy juice as the two of them orgasm together. You suppose that Karina's oral skills were only sufficient in making Ryujin cum because of the way your cock deprived your girlfriend of air—the orgasms whenever you choke Ryujin are always so intense; you're certain you'd find the same results if Karina's mouth wasn't being put to other uses.

Ryujin finally pulls away, gasping for air as you release her hair. Your cock slides out of her mouth and you slap it across her face a few times before turning your attention back to Karina. She looks back at you with a dazed expression, her body trembling from her climax. You grab her hips and thrust your cock into her tight pussy, making her cry out as you fill her to her wit's end.

"I'm sorry," she says, looking back at you with tears streaming down her cheeks. "I'm sorry, I couldn't hold it back anymore."

Ryujin laughs as she kisses Karina passionately and tastes herself on the other girl's lips. "Don't apologize, baby girl," she says between kisses. "It's okay." She puts her hand on Karina's chest and massages her tits gently as she continues to kiss her. Ryujin turns to look at you, her hand on Karina's cheek.

This is that lie-down and get-ready-to-be-ridden position, and your blood has been boiling all night, ready to be unleashed. Karina and Ryujin both have the kind of ass that makes you want to spank it red until they cry and beg you to stop, but tonight's not about that. Tonight, as Ryujin slides onto your lap, taking your cock inside her with ease, you know there's no stopping either of them.

Normally, you would be saddened by the fact you can't see your girlfriend's face, but it's a fair trade-off, if only for the smacking sounds of Karina and Ryujin's kisses. And then, there's the way that Karina leaves a trail of girl-cum along your abs, as she first takes whatever friction she can find between your abdomen and her cunt, grinding along your stomach; after that, however, she's set on making your face her personal seat, which is fine by you. This is the throne of a god, not one to sit on and rule and dictate and limit, but one to be as, to transform into, to understand and connect with the people who pray for your attention—and Karina wants nothing more than that connection right now.

"I'm sorry I didn't do better," she says between kisses, holding your face in her hands. "I'm sorry I came so fast. I'm sorry we didn't do this sooner. I'm sorry with being with..." She chokes back a sob before continuing. "I'm sorry."

You've never needed an apology, and less so right now: your girlfriend is currently riding your cock like it's going out of style, and Karina manages to say all that without looking at your face—how can she? You can't even laugh at the irony, your every breath dedicated to what oxygen you can get before diving back into the wet heat of her pussy.

"Do you want to be a good girl?" Ryujin asks breathlessly as she bounces up and down on your shaft, her ass slapping against your thighs.

"I want to be a good girl," Karina murmurs as she grinds her pussy against your mouth.

Ryujin grabs Karina's ass and squeezes it tightly. "Stop saying you're sorry," she says between gasps.

Karina looks down at you and bites her lip. "I... I don't know how."

Ryujin pauses her ride, leaning forward and running her hands along Karina's body. "Well, you can beg to ride this beautiful, fffugh, dick..." Her hands move down to your stomach, and she starts grinding back and forth against your cock. "I love it." She turns and smiles at Karina, "He loves it when a girl rides him, and he loves it when I ride him the most. You know how many girls get to ride Oppa? But I'm the best at it."

You understand this angle. If there's one sin Karina might admit to, it's jealousy. She was always a bit competitive with you—nothing too malicious, just a need to be the best; and you're fine to indulge her. You grab Karina's ass and slap it gently, then squeeze her cheeks and spread them apart. "She's right, you know," you say, your voice low and husky.

Ryujin chuckles, shaking her head. "Of course I am," she says with a smirk, turning to look back at you.

You play with Karina's ass for a few moments before grabbing her hips and pulling her closer, bringing your face back to her mound. You press your lips against her pussy and kiss her tenderly. Your tongue slips between her folds and you lick her slowly. She tastes so sweet.

"Oh god..." Karina gasps, gripping your hair tightly as you lick her pussy. "I have to ride it. It looks, so, so good."

"You have to?" Ryujin asks in a mocking tone. "Oh, so now you're getting bold?"

"I want it," Karina whines. "Please?"

"You'll stop apologizing?" Ryujin asks as she moves off your lap, your cock still slick with her juices.

Karina nods, unable to look away from your length. She crawls up to your lap and elects to ride you reverse cowgirl, but only after Ryujin guides her in with a hand on the small of Karina's back. You don't mind either way—you're glad for this angle, for the underrated sight of Karina's back or her ass. You could trace the bumps of her spine or the dips in her waist. Though the position is naturally no novelty, this woman and all her impossibly perfect curves are, even if only for this night. Her ass is perfect; she has a perfect figure; and you love every inch of her skin, from her smooth shoulders to her soft thighs to her slender legs. Ryujin was right—you do love watching girls ride your cock, especially when they're new to it, when they haven't learned this choreography yet.

Karina has no trouble getting into the rhythm as she works you over like she was born to ride dick. Ryujin is there to support Karina through the process, running her hands along the other girl's body and kissing her passionately as she bounces up and down on your cock. Karina turns to look at you, brows creased, mouth wide open, lips wet with saliva. She can't stop moaning as your cock stretches her tight pussy. It's so adorable the way she tries to be quiet and ends up squealing instead. Her eyes roll back as Ryujin bites her neck and grinds against her body.

"Goddamn, girl," Ryujin whispers breathlessly. "You're so fucking sexy. Maybe you deserve his cum after all."

"Hngh, thank you," Karina says.

Ryujin laughs and grabs Karina's hair to move it out of the way before leaning in to suck on her neck. You can imagine what a mess it's making on her face, especially as sweat drips down her temples. The thing about Karina is that she might be a sloppy mess, but she's still just as pretty as ever, even if that prettiness is marred by the sweat that mats her hair, and the way she looks completely blissed out—even more so than earlier—with her eyes rolled back and her lips parted.

You thrust up into Karina's pussy, making her cry out. Your hands move to her hips and you lift her body up and down along your shaft. She looks at you with tears streaming down her cheeks and smiles.

"Yeah? Thank me?" Ryujin asks. You feel her weigh down against your thigh as she straddles you from the side, sits atop it, grinds back and forth while she reaches behind Karina to fondle your balls.

"Please," Karina begs in a soft voice, looking at you with wide eyes. "Please give me your cum."

You've had your climax postponed for a while, with the break from fucking Karina and the time Ryujin has taken to warm you back up. You're not sure how you'll be able to hold out any longer. Then Ryujin gives a glance. "Cum," she mouths.

That's all you need really. Karina twerks on your cock, forgetting everything she's learned, repeating profanity. All you need. An asscheek to spank and spank, or a breast to squeeze and squeeze until you can see the red handprint on her body, to feel that weight in your palm. A loving and supporting girlfriend to help you out with some verbal encouragement. All you need, and if you asked for anything more from up above, they'd answer like you just knocked the gates of heaven at 3:21 AM, and there's good Saint Peter asking:

"Well, now what? Oh, you want more?"

✦✧✦✧✦✧

AFF, AO3

Another sane Levi fic as always.

[lumiambrose]

✰ the winning hand

kinktober 24 - day twelve

featuring: aventurine x f!reader

summary: you were taken by surprise when the aventurine of the ten stonehearts requests a private match from you. although, a gamble with him requires high stakes, and even higher rewards.

tags: smut, gambling, praise, degredation (if you reaaally squint), p in v, cunnilingus, use of sex toys, public sex, petnames (sweet girl, pretty, doll), not proofread (i drank too much last night mb fam)

wc: 2.2k

“so the winner of this next round takes all?” you clarify, unsure if the man in front of you has gone insane.

“spot on, pretty. if you win, i’ll be your loyal servant for the rest of the night. although if i win… you’ll be mine.” yeah. he’s lost it.

you’re currently in a private sector for the eclipse’s executives. it’s slightly elevated from the rest of the floor, almost like a private balcony with a gorgeous view of the grand casino. how you ended up here? you don’t even know. you were sipping on a sweet cocktail when aventurine, one of the ten stonehearts, requested a game from you. his assistant didn’t give you time to react as he led you away from the central casino and toward a far more private, lavish, hall.

ever the gentleman he is, aventurine picked you up there and stole you away to the balcony you now find yourself at. seeing as it was too late to decline, you figured you should get the most out of this experience as he explained the rules to you.

a standard game of poker shouldn’t be too hard, right? is what you tell yourself, despite struggling immensely against the man in front of you. you’ve only won… twice? out of the many rounds you’ve played and you’re getting worried, you can’t keep losing like this. almost on cue, aventurine suggests one final round to decide the winner, which is how you’ve ended up in your current predicament.

you eye the cards in your hand, desperately trying to keep your expression neutral. aventurine lounges across from you, one arm draped over the back of the sofa, his other hand casually toying with his chips. he’s confident. too confident.

“ready, pretty?” he’s teasing you at this point. the dealer, not making a sound, reshuffles the cards before sliding them your way. you glance at your hand and immediately regret your decision, but you don’t lose hope just yet.

the dealer reveals the first three cards on the table: jack of diamonds, queen of clubs, seven of spades. your stomach drops. aventurine smirks. it’s over.

with a hand like this, you shouldn’t even bet, but you go all in anyway, hoping the bluff works. of course, it doesn’t. he meets your bet, then raises.

the final card flips. king of hearts.

aventurine reveals his hand—ace and ten.

a straight.

you blink, stunned. aventurine leans forward, that damn smirk widening, “looks like you’re mine now.”

this was it, your fate had been sealed. only god knows what this man has planned for you. you let out a long sigh, accepting your defeat before locking eyes with him, waiting for his orders.

with a quick snap of his fingers, the dealer leaves the room, disappearing through the door without a word. “stand up,” you oblige, adjusting your short dress and hair as you rise from your chair, facing him. he does a one-over on your body, taking in every inch and curve, staring like a starved man.

the room suddenly feels much smaller as you’re left in aventurine’s company. he’s still lounging on the sofa before you, but this time, a more terrifying aura radiates from him. 

his next command is simple. with a predatory smile and commanding tone, he orders, “your panties, take them off.”

for a second, you thought you didn’t hear him right. you hesitate for a moment, but the look in his eyes leaves no room for argument. slowly, you reach through your skirt, your hands trembling slightly as you hook your thumbs into the waistband of your panties and push them down.

he holds out his hands, glancing at the panties before his gaze shifts back to you. you hand them to him as a blush creeps up your cheeks. his hand grazes yours as he takes them from you, stuffing them into his pocket with a victorious smile playing on his lips.

“oh, one more thing,” he reaches over to a small box resting on the table, opening it and taking out a small vibrator. “you’re a smart girl so i’m sure you understand what i’m getting at. if you manage a few games without cumming, i might even reward you,” he coos. “you like the sound of that, doll?”

even if you wanted to refuse, you know you couldn’t. begrudgingly, you put the vibrator in your, now naked, pussy, letting out a soft sigh as it enters you. as much as you should be disgusted right now, you’re filled with nothing but adrenaline facing the man in front of you. the fear that you once had now slowly turning into excitement.

he sets up the next round of poker, shuffling a new deck of cards and sliding some your way. “no need to bet with chips anymore, if you manage to win as much as one game, i’ll make sure you’re cumming on me tonight.” his voice suddenly shifts into a darker tone “although, if you fail… we’ll keep up this little game of ours until you're begging on your knees for me.”

the hums of the vibrator fill the room as he turns it on from the small remote in his hand. any fear you should’ve felt from his threat going straight to your core, letting out a small moan at the danger.

the next few hours we’re nothing but agonising pain. you played his cruel game, as he abused the power he had over you, making you crumble for him. you were close? too damn bad, he turned the vibrator off, leaving you whimpering in agony. you tried bluffing? he saw right through it and set the vibrator to pulse inside of you, only switching it back to normal once you confessed your lie. sometimes you’d even be so distracted by the sweet pleasure between your thighs that your hand would accidentally slip, giving aventurine a complete view of your cards. but lady luck was on your side today as somehow, somehow, you beat him. maybe he let you and you didn’t notice as you were too distracted by the vibrating pleasure or perhaps you just got lucky. either way, you celebrated your victory, excited for what came ahead.

“congratulations, sweetheart,” he leaves the sofa for the first time tonight, slowly approaching you. “i’m a man of my word,” he kneels in front of you, pushing your legs apart. “i won’t stop until you’re cumming all over my tongue.”

without any further warning, he removes the vibrator, leaving you empty, only to replace it with his tongue.

he eats you out like it’s his last day alive. sucking, biting and slurping on your pussy. “so good,” he muffles, “you taste so fucking good.”

he continues to lap your folds, stuffing your cunt with his tongue and sometimes nibbling on your clit. he’s so shameless too, not attempting to hide any noises he makes while drinking you up. the longer he eats you out, the more dissolved his words get. filthy encouragements and teasing praises slowly turning into incoherent babbles, growling against your cunt. each vibration going straight toward your impending orgasm.

“you close, pretty? can feel you shaking around my tongue,” he says with one last lick on your folds before you come undone all over his face. your orgasm hits you like a wave, your juices crashing down on aventurine’s mouth.

he pulls back, slowly rising from his knees. “fuck– you taste divine,” he licks any excess juices from his face, “could eat this pretty pussy every day.” he grabs your hand, pulling you up from your chair and bringing you to the sofa he was once lounging on, “but that wouldn’t be any fun now, would it?” he bends you over with your back to the casino table, giving you a perfect view of the central casino.

“try not to attract too much attention, sweet girl.” with that, he hikes up your tiny dress and enters you in one slow, painful thrust. you moan at the sensation, definitely attracting a few curious eyes from below, but you’re in to deep to care anymore. he lets out a sigh of relief as he bottoms out, feeling your tight cunt already squeezing him.

“hah– so tight f’me,” he started to rock into you at a slow pace, taking his sweet time destroying you. as much as he desperately wanted to give into his primal urges, rutting into like there’s no tomorrow, he wanted to keep his promise. he wanted you to completely come apart on his dick, turning you into his little fucked-out doll. his one hand rest on your hip, keeping him steady as he moves inside you while the other snakes its way down to your clit, teasing your overstimulated bud.

the pleasure is overwhelming, leading you closer to your orgasm by the second, moaning out praises for the blonde behind you. “aah~ so good– i’m so close!” you can barely get the words out, but once you do, he can’t hold back anymore. “gonna make a mess on my dick, pretty?” he speeds up, thrusting at a faster pace, fingers working harder too.

“you close, doll?” he vibrates against your ear, “that’s my good girl… go on, cum on my dick, make a mess for me.” 

that was all it took to push you over the edge, you clenched him tightly as your second orgasm hit you. moaning out his name as you gripped the balcony railing, letting yourself come undone for him. it didn’t take him long until he was also reaching his high, swiftly pulling out and releasing his cum all over your ass and back, staining your dress.

after he releases his grasp on you, you collapse on the sofa, breathless and still sensitive from the little game you both played. he takes his place next to you, moving your legs to rest on his lap. “looks like your dress is stained,” he traces a line down your leg. “give me your number. i’ll arrange a replacement.”

after exchanging numbers, you clean yourself up as much as possible before heading to the exit.

“oh, and sweetheart,” he calls out to you before you can leave. “call me when you want your rematch.”

taglist: @ryescapades @iamjellyfish @143-ilyuu @maruflix @pixelcafe-network

©lumis kinktober 24' ─ do not translate, repost, copy any of my works

[yelenaslyubov]

Be My Baby

main masterlist || florence pugh || requests

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ pairing: florence pugh x fem!reader

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ warnings: MINORS DNI (18+), smut, reader receiving, fingering, reader starts story married to a cis man!, cheating

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ description: (inspired by florence’s new shoot with vogue and set in the mid-to-late 1900s), after moving to the suburbs for a quieter life, your next door neighbor turns out to be a sweet surprise. infatuated by her personality, you make it your mission to get to know her better, even if that means breaking the rules.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ word count: 2.8k

A thinly paved road and bushels of trees flew past on either side of the car. Being away from the city was a dream at last, as you had begged your husband for years at the opportunity. Now, he had the chance and he took it.

It was just as you had pictured it; perfectly wooded with plenty of neighbors around to keep you company. Your husband would work in the city, which was about an hour drive, but it was what you asked for with easy living.

As you neared the end of the road, you passed a large house coming up on the right. The sharp home was white with plenty of wood finishes. It seemed to fit just right in front of the trees.

Just like you remembered, your house was the last on the road and it looked just like the pictures you had seen in the mail. The accents of stone and black trim were to die for, and you knew the inside would be an even better satisfaction.

The car pulled into the driveway and it stopped with a squeak. The smile on your face could not be disguised. Your husband opened his own door but regretted not opening yours as well. Your smile faded as you helped yourself out of the car.

“Well, I hope it is everything you’ve dreamed of because I spent a pretty penny on it.” Even the sound of his voice repulsed you more than you could ever imagine.

Truthfully, this was all for you. You knew that getting the dream house you wanted allowed you to be in peace for most days. Your husband traveled for a living which left you in solitude to your heart's content.

When you walked into the house, boxes of your belongings littered the floor. The movers had gotten there the day before you and dropped everything off. The only thing put together was your bed, thank goodness.

“Hopefully this can all be unpacked by the morning, I need to leave tomorrow early for the airport,” your husband said.

“So soon?” you asked with an undertone of happiness.

He shot you a glare. “Yes, so soon. I couldn’t imagine you would understand.”

And so, the night was spent listening to records on vinyl after you were able to find the turntable, while each of you made a silent effort to unpack your life. By about midnight each of you called it quits and decided to go to bed.

Your bed felt just like it always had, but with a new view. Your eyes fluttered shut as you watched the tall pine trees dance in the breeze swooping by. How lovely it was to finally be surrounded by nature.

.

.

.

By morning your husband had already left with no trace but a simple note at your bedside that read “car delivery this afternoon. I will see you later.”

Later. Later could mean anything, so you anticipated hours or even days that he could be gone. Without a car until the afternoon left you stranded at home with no food, which seemed just like him.

You stumbled out of bed and threw your green, silk robe around you as you shivered. You nearly jumped at the sight in front of you in the mirror. The move had clearly been rough, with your disheveled hair and mascara smudges painted under your eyes. Luckily, with the unpacking you did last night you had just enough collected to take a shower and make yourself more presentable.

You made your way into your new bathroom that was covered with baby pink tile, along with a toilet and bathtub to match. You reached for the dial in the shower, but just before you were able to turn the water on you heard the doorbell ring. You waited a moment just in case you misheard, but it rang again.

Living in a new place called for precautions because you did not know what you would find behind the front door. You hoped for the car delivery, but you assumed that was slim.

You approached the door and peaked out the window beside it; no car. You walked closer to the door and jumped when the doorbell rang again.

“Hello?” a sweet voice spoke from the other side of the door. A woman.

Your chest became a bit lighter when you realized it was a woman. You wrapped your robe tighter around you since you did not know exactly what to expect when you opened the door.

The lock snapped to the left with a pop and you opened the door to reveal a blonde haired woman.

“Good morning! Oh, I’m sorry if I woke you up!” she exclaimed.

“You didn’t wake me, it’s no problem at all,” you responded.

You felt severely underdressed standing in front of her. She was wearing a light blue dress with white trim and shoes to match. Her hair was cut shorter but you could see the curls that were meticulously curved above her forehead. You became very distracted by the way she presented herself and the pretty smile she had.

“I saw you get in last night and thought I would just bring something over for you from my family. My husband and I live in the house on the right through the trees.” You looked in the direction she was pointing and it turned out to be the house you noticed when on the road last night.

“Oh my, well thank you very much, I appreciate that!” Your new neighbor handed you the glass dish of food. “My name is y/n y/l/n, it’s nice to meet you.” You held out your hand for her to shake.

“My name is Florence Pugh, it’s wonderful to meet you. It’s nice to have a friendlier face around here, most of the women I’ve met have been absolute vultures, but I can tell that we’ll get along just right,” she giggled and it warmed your heart.

“I appreciate you coming and introducing yourself to me. I’m new to the area and don’t know a soul, so having some company around here will be so lovely,” you expressed.

“Anything, my dear. Well, I best get back home and leave you to your day.”

You hesitated to protest her departure. “Well, my husband travels for work and I’m not sure when he will be back, so if you’re not up to anything…”

“I’ll be back in an hour to help unpack!” she said.

“You’re too kind, I appreciate you, and this food,” you laughed.

“It’s no problem at all! I’ll see you in a flash!”

She was gone just like she had come and you couldn’t help but watch her leave. The flow of her dress rocked back and forth with her hips and her hair bounced as she walked.

You went back inside and tried to resume as you were. You put the food in the fridge and tried to contain your excitement for the dinner you would be having.

That day, Florence came back over and helped you unpack for the rest of the night. You shared your stories with one another and laughed until your stomachs hurt. A real friendship began to blossom between the two of you, which helped with your boredom.

A couple months went by and your husband had been back to the house a couple times before traveling again for work, and Florence never left your side. You saw your friend almost each day and adored every second spent together. She made your world feel less lonely just by being there.

One morning while your husband was gone, of course, you decided to take a walk over to Florence’s house to see her. You noticed her husband stomping to his car with a look that could kill. He got in the car and drove away with only dust behind him. You tried to stay hidden until he was down the road, then you approached their house.

You knocked on the door and heard footsteps hurrying towards you. She opened the door and she was crying.

“Oh Flossie, what’s the matter? Is everything alright?”

She sniffed and wiped away her tears. “Yes, I’m alright.”

“You’re not alright and you know it.” You slid inside past her, closed the door, and took her hand while dragging her over to the couch. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“We’re just having marital problems, that’s all. Just a rough patch.”

“You’ve seemed off the last couple weeks, so I wouldn’t say it’s all marital problems,” you said.

You poured the two of you a glass of white wine and brought out your box of cigarettes, offering one to Florence as well.

“Y/n, it’s 8 in the morning, we can’t drink yet!”

“Says who?” you smiled, which made Florence smile back.

The two of you talked for a couple hours and Florence poured her heart out to you, all of it that she could at least. She explained the indifferences between her and her husband, as well as her own personal indifferences.

You placed your hand on top of hers and squeezed it. “I’m sorry you have to do that all on your own,” you said.

“Believe me, you being here helps more than you will ever know.” Florence smiled at you, her kind eyes meeting yours and getting lost in each other.

She had been looking at you longer than anticipated, but you couldn’t seem to look away. Florence looked from your eyes to your lips; back and forth, and back and forth.

Before you could control either one of your impulses, each of you were leaning in close, meeting each other in the middle. Her lips found yours so easily and you closed your eyes. You couldn’t believe the comfort and softness you felt for her, even in this unexpected moment.

You were so wrapped up in the moment that you hadn’t realized what was actually happening. Florence seemed to gain consciousness the same time as you and you both pulled away quickly.

“I- I’m so sorry y/n, I don’t know what overcame me!” Florence said frantically.

“Please, don’t apologize, Flossie, it’s alright. Just calm down.”

Florence was pacing around the room, anxiously picking at her hands not knowing what to do. “This is so unlike me, I’m so sorry,” she kept apologizing.

“Florence!” you tried to get her attention. “It’s alright, I promise. No harm done.”

You grabbed her hands so she would start to calm down a bit. You smiled at her to reassure her that all was well.

“I believe you then,” Florence smiled. “You better be going, I’m sure you have things to do.”

“When do I ever have things to do?” you laughed.

“Well, you know…”

You could tell that one way or another, Florence was trying to make you leave, so you decided to go ahead and go before she kicked you out.

“You’re right… I should get going. I’ll see you later on, Flossie. You take care of yourself, you hear?” She nodded in response and you left her standing in the middle of the living room.

As you got home, you felt confused and disoriented as to what happened. You had to admit, you didn’t hate it, but you knew it was wrong. You both had husbands and you were both… women. Even with the doubts and differences in your mind, you couldn’t stop thinking about it.

Florence didn’t leave your mind all night, or for several days for that matter. You figured you were better off leaving the two of you with some space after what happened. Florence was clearly shook up about it and you didn’t want to push her. You wanted her to come to you first; and that’s exactly what she did.

One day, a couple weeks after the incident between you and Florence, you had just finished up cleaning the kitchen and vacuuming the house, so you decided to hop in the shower to clean up.

It happened almost the same as it started between the two of you. Before you had the opportunity to shower, your doorbell rang. You answered it to find Florence waiting for you.

“Hello, I thought I would stop by and see how you’re doing, but I can see that you’re busy-”

“Flossie, please don’t go,” you begged.

Florence stopped before she could leave. “I’ve missed that— ‘Flossie.’”

“I’ve missed you,” you smiled. “Come in.” The two of you made your way to the couch and sat down.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been by, I’ve just been… thinking a lot and I just feel bad for that day.”

“Please, don’t apologize anymore,” you told her. “It was just something silly in the moment, it meant nothing.”

Florence’s head dropped and she looked down at her hands. “Right, it meant nothing.”

You looked at her and saw the sadness that she expressed. You took her hand and she looked back at you.

“Unless… it did mean something?” you asked. Instead of sadness, her eyes were hopeful, just like yours.

“I know it’s not right, but I can’t seem to help it. I can’t stop thinking about you,” Florence said.

It was more forced this time, much more indeed. Florence crashed herself into you, knocking you down on your back against the couch. These two weeks left you hungry for each other, leaving you starved and grabbing for anything you could touch.

Her hands grasped your blushed cheeks, your tangled hair, and the spaces of your neck. You held her flush against your body, not wanting this secret moment to end.

Each of you couldn’t stop yourself, which is how you found yourself in the position of your robe being taken off. Your body was exposed to the brisk air, but you didn’t seem to mind.

There was no time for Florence to get a good look at you because she was too busy touching every part of you. She was quick to drag her hand down your front half and stopping down before your stomach.

Hesitation was not an option because you both knew you may never get this moment again if anyone were to find out. Without thinking, Florence drew her fingers through your center which caused you to squirm.

You let her do whatever she desired with you simply because she was Florence. Part of you had waited for this moment, but another part was taken by surprise that it was happening at all.

She began rubbing her fingers all through your cunt. It didn’t seem to matter what she did to you, your body was completely euphoric.

Florence’s fingers rubbed circles on your clit while you cried out of pleasure. You had never felt anything that had been quite of this measure, and you didn’t think you ever would again.

She picked up the pace while her lips were still all over your face and body. You couldn’t stop moving and reacting to the touch you were receiving from her, so Florence had to take matters into her own hands.

She barred down and put her weight on your body, preventing you from squirming too much.

“It’s so cute how much you move under me,” Florence said, turning your cheeks hot. Her words didn’t help you move any less.

You could feel yourself getting closer, as it didn’t take much for you to relinquish yourself to her completely.

“Flossie, I think I’m-” you tried to get out.

“I know, my dear. You can do it,” she whispered to you.

All it took was her words and the gentle but hot kiss she left by your ear that did you in. Your moans could be heard loudly over Sam Cooke who was playing from the turntable across the room.

You felt in a daze as your high came to a close, and all you could see now were the hazy eyes of Florence staring back at you. She rubbed the side of your face and swiped the hair out of your face.

You sat up out of surprise. “I can’t believe that just happened.”

“Me neither,” Florence giggled.

You stood up and got your footing before looking at Florence. She looked so naturally ethereal with the white pleated dress she had on, along with her messy royal looking hair. She stared at you and covered her mouth with her hand, laughing at you.

“What’s the matter?” you smiled.

“I didn’t even realize I did that much damage.”

You walked over to the mirror and gasped. There were dozens of lipstick marks all over your face and chest.

You smiled at her in the mirror. “That only means you have to help me clean it all up again.”

You took Florence’s hand and pulled her towards the bathroom while a trail of each of your clothes littered the hallway.

.

.

.

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[dorabellingham]

Out of blues

warnings: Bad words, nudity and sexual insinuations

characters: jude x fem!reader

summary: spending some time with your boyfriend in Ibiza

may contain spelling and translation errors!

The sun was shining brightly that summer morning in Ibiza, and the beach was busy.

You and Jude walked barefoot across the warm sand, the sound of the waves gently crashing against the shore creating a peaceful atmosphere. You were enjoying every minute of the trip, enjoying the freedom and each other's company. You were wearing a neutral-colored bikini, almost matching your skin tone, and Jude, as always, in simple, relaxed shorts, without a shirt. He refused to put on sunscreen, as he always did, claiming that "I didn't need it" and that "my skin could handle the sun", despite his protests.

—Jude, you're going to burn yourself! Said, shaking your head with a smile while holding the bottle of sunscreen, trying to convince him for the fifth time that morning.

He just shrugged, carefree, and continued walking along the sand, his broad shoulders already beginning to shine in the bright sun.

—Ah, I'm fine, bae. I don't need that.

You laughed, giving up on insisting, knowing that he would end up regretting it later. You applied the sunscreen to yourself, covering your shoulders and face, while he watched you with a mischievous smile.

—You'll see, Bellingham. You'll regret it later, and then I won't let you use mine. He laughed, shaking his head.

—If I get burned, I'll apologize. But I'm fine. Everything will be fine.

You found a perfect spot on the sand, and you laid out the towel as your boyfriend ran towards the water. He quickly dove into the waves, squealing with happiness, and you watched him fondly, laughing at how he always looked like a little boy when he was free to have fun. After a while, he came back from the water and lay down next to you, both relaxing in the sun, exchanging relaxed conversations about the trip and what they would do later. The warmth of the sun and the sound of the waves created a feeling of peace.

But as the morning progressed, it became obvious that Jude was starting to feel the impact of the lack of sunscreen. His shoulders were noticeably redder, and he began to shift uncomfortably in the towel.

—Okay, Y/n, maybe you were right... —He murmured, turning to the other side to try to avoid the pain.

You looked at him, unable to hide your pleased smile.

—What, Victor? I didn't hear it right. Can you repeat?

— You were right, okay? I should have put on sunscreen.

You laughed, sitting next to him and poking his shoulders lightly.

—Ah, babe, so now you admit it. Well, I would even let you use my protector now, but... too late!

Jude made an exaggerated grimace of pain and rolled his eyes.

—Okay, I deserve it. You can laugh at me.

And you actually laughed, having fun with his stubbornness and the situation. You were in one of those moments when everything was light, easy, and the connection between you seemed natural, as if nothing in the world could interfere with that bubble of happiness you had created.

After some more teasing and laughing, Jude suggested you go back into the water to cool off. You nodded, eager to dive back into the sea and get rid of the heat of the sun. You ran towards the waves together, Jude with his carefree way, and you trying to keep up with him, although you always laughed at how much faster and more agile he was.

When you reached the water, a strong wave suddenly formed. Bellingham dove into it without thinking twice, but you, who were right behind, weren't so quick. The wave hit hard, catching you by surprise, and you was pushed back. When you managed to balance yourself again, noticed something strange. With the splash of the water, the lace of your bikini had come loose, and the top was hanging down, leaving you exposed to your boyfriend and anyone else around.

—Oh my God! —You screamed, desperately trying to hold the bikini with one hand while using the other to cover your chest. Jude, who had just emerged from the water, looked back and saw the scene, bursting into laughter.

—Love, are you trying to seduce me in the middle of the sea?

You was panicking, trying to tie your bikini back on with one hand and looking around, nervous that someone might have seen it.

—Stop laughing and help me!

But Jude couldn't stop. He was doubled over with laughter, and even if he tried, the sight of his girlfriend desperately trying to hold on to her bikini was too comical for him to contain his laughter. Besides, it affected other parts of him, but the beach was not a comfortable place to have sex. So, he needed to get rid of that agonizing feeling.

Finally, after a few moments of struggling, you managed to tie the bikini back on, and with your face red, not only from the sun, but from embarrassment, you looked at him with an expression of pure indignation.

—You are impossible, Jude!

Said, crossing your arms and still trying to cover your breasts to ensure that the bikini was secure. He approached, trying to look contrite but still smiling.

—I'm sorry, babe, but... You looked so fucking delicious with your wet hair and your breasts out that I had to laugh to distract myself!

You lightly slapped his chest, but he could no longer keep a serious expression. You ended up laughing too, shaking your head.

—I can't believe this happened...

—Next time, I'll hold the top for you.

You rolled your eyes, but was smiling again.

—You better hold on, because otherwise I swear I'll kill you.

[snickerdoodie]

“Sugar and Spice”

Summary: Everyone knew Jake Seresin was a charismatic player. Whether it was flirting with girls at the bar or charming his way out of any situation. But what happens when the blond pilot finally meets his match?

Pairing: Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x f!reader

A/N: hey guys..I’m not even gonna lie I completely forgot to post this lmao, I got a liiittle busy with everything and it completely went over my head. But here it is! Finally! After two months. This also isn’t proof read, per usual, so sorry if anything sounds off. Enjoy!

Jake’s chatting along with Rooster and the gang when the door suddenly chimes open, taking a quick glance as any human would, but what he sees isn’t what he’s expecting. In comes you, dressed up in a simple white tank top and probably the shorted daisy dukes he’s ever seen, not that he’s complaining though . His eyes rake over your body before he travels further upward, smirking to himself when you accidentally make eye contact. Giving him a nod and a classic small smile, you make your way over to the bar, soon getting into a quick conversation with Penny.

“Well I’ll be damn,” He says into his beer, taking a long sip before wiping his lips with a grin. That causes Rooster to quirk a brow at the unexpected comment.

“What’s up with you? Find a new pair of tits to ogle at?” He quips, noticing Hangman’s intense stare across the room. Seresin shrugs, a smirk still plastered on his handsome face.

“‘Could say that. Could also say I might have just found myself my girl tonight.” And with that, Hangman scoots himself out of the booth he was sitting in and makes his way across the room, gaze dead set on you sitting at the bar, drink in hand. He ignores the unwanted calls and shouts narrowed to him from his friends, too caught up in his next words. Taking a seat on the empty stool next to yours, leering on your exposed skin before continuing.

“Hey there, what’s a pretty thing like you doin’ here sittin’ by yourself?” You turn your head to the sound of the voice, not even hearing him come up beside you. At first, you do a once over at the man, taking in his striking green eyes and Hollywood smile. Then you take notice in his uniform, his sunglasses perched on the fold of his shirt. Must be one of those pilots you keep hearing about. Turning your upper half to him, you smile.

“Doesn’t seem like I’m sitting alone now, does it?” You quip back, setting your drink down on the countertop. The man’s smirk grows wider as he rests an elbow on the wood.

“Aw, no need to thank me, just doin’ what’s needed of me.” You just now realize his country accent, standing out in certain phrases; it makes you fight back a blush. You raise a brow nonetheless.

“Is that so? Did you magically think I wanted you here, Blondie?” You know he wasn’t expecting the nick name when his brows raise for a split second before shooting back down to their original places.

“Eh, I don’t need’a think, I just know by heart. Y’know, with my magical powers ‘n all.” He imitates quotations at the end of his sentence. You huff out a laugh at his words, eyes cascading down to your watered down drink. Taking a sip, you focus your attention back onto the man in front of you. That stupid grin still plastered on his lips.

“Well can your magical powers tell you the name of the lady you decided to make your next target?” It came out a bit harsher than you intended, almost regretting your words. Truth is, you *were* enjoying his company and that southern drawl of his. He honestly was making your night a bit better than just sitting there alone, drowning in your drinks and mind while some overplayed Toby Keith song played on the jukebox.

“I’m afraid that’s somethin’ I can’t do. Care to help me out here?” Relieved he didn’t say anything about your earlier statement, you bite your lip with a smile, nodding.

“(Y/N),” you state, almost missing the way his eyes light up more at your declaration. “What about you, G.I. Joe? Got a name to the face?”

“As a matter of fact I do, gorgeous. Most people call me Hangman but I’ll make a special case and let you call me yours.” He winks with that cheshire grin. You fight back both a blush and a large smile this time at the cringy and overused line.

“Is that so?”

“I’d sure so hope so, ma’am.”

You both stay silent as you stare at each other. While you bite the inside of your cheek, he scoots himself closer to you, knees brushing against each other. You can smell his sandalwood cologne and the beer he’d been drinking previously before coming up to you. Hangman notices your lack of response and licks his lips, eyes flickering from your glass to your hair then to your lips before continuing.

“Tell ya what, sweetheart” he starts, catching your attention, “You name the game. If I win, you’re buying me dinner. But if you by some miracle manage to beat me, you won’t have to endure my charming company ever again.” He finishes, looking very confident in his proposition. You tilt your head and fully face your body towards him, your legs scooting between his as he widens his stance to make room. You swear you could have seen his adam’s apple bob harshly at the movement but you payed no mind.

You narrow your eyes slightly before a small smile stretches across your lips. With the confidence that this man passed on, you carefully lean forward so your palms are resting against his firm thighs. Bracing yourself as you lean in closer. Hangman bites his lip before tilting his head down, his chest heaving in a breath before he speaks,

“You gonna take up on that offer, darlin’?” He drawls out, voice raspy, almost sultry. You look him in the eyes as you lightly squeeze his skin, his smirk growing.

“Y’know what? I will, s’not like I’ve got anything to lose now is there, cowboy?”

I also tried to make my format for my fics a little more..interesting looking. I felt like they’re too boring so tell me your thoughts. Feel free to comment if you liked or disliked something! :)

[famousstatesmanbearroad]

DISTRACTIONS (WWE CODY RHODES)

•Summary: He’s allowed you in his head, allowed you to play mind games, allowed you to make him vulnerable, causing his match against your cousin at WrestleMania 39. Months later and he finally earns another match, just for you to start the distraction all over again, dwelling on the pass

• Parings: Cody Rhodes X Samoan fem reader

Warnings - mentions of sex, 18+ only (Minors DNI), (READ AT YOUR OWN RISK)

Word count: 3.2k

Bloodline: A set of ancestors or line of descent of a person.

That's what your brothers and Cousins called themselves here at World Wrestling Entertainment. Your cousin, Roman, the tribal chief, has run this company and held the Undisputed WWE Universal heavyweight championship for three years.

Your brothers held the undisputed tag team belts for over a year before losing them at WrestleMania a few months ago. Since then, things have changed.

Your brothers aren't on the best terms. Jey, one-half of your twin brothers, has left the bloodline after Jimmy, his other half, betrayed him.

Since then, Solo, Roman's third-oldest brother, and Jimmy have been by Roman's side.

And you? You two are by Roman's side.

Not by choice, however.

Family is Family. You have supported Roman since he joined this company with his two best friends. As the years have passed, Roman has changed—for the better and the worse.

You haven't had much of a role in the bloodline other than the one who plays mind games with Roman's opponent.

Brock Lenser, your first victim. It's just a tiny distraction here and there just for him to slip and lose his belt to Roman.

Drew McIntyre fought hard not to let the distractions get to him. To you, it was very much easy. His allowing you to get in the way was one of his biggest regrets.

Then there was Cody Rhodes. Cody, fucking Rhodes. This was your biggest challenge out of all three. The lengths you went to distracted me. It almost seemed like it wasn't working at first. Then it did.

You don't like to admit this, but Cody left an ideally permanent scar on you mentally. You were almost relieved when you barely saw him after WrestleMania 39 a few months ago. And you tried your hardest to keep it a distraction, and only a distraction.

But Cody immediately knew you as a person. He knew your weaknesses, fears, and thoughts, and your mind changed every second, distracting both of you.

And after that night he lost, you knew Cody wasn't finished, but you vowed to yourself that if there was a moment when Cody had the opportunity to Wrestle your cousin again, you would stay the hell away from Cody.

However, your cousin had different plans.

You are sitting across from Roman in his dressing room as he dismisses Jimmy, Solo, and Heyman.

He looked at you as he lay back in his seat, sighing. "Listen," he spoke with such boldness that heads would turn in any room. You have helped me a lot, and typically, I don't ask you for favors. But you saw it. The whole world and I saw it. Cody has won the Royal Rumble, and he's after one thing and one thing only: me."

Cody's name falling out of Roman's mouth sent your heart straight to your ass. You were there when Cody pointed at Roman after winning the Royal Rumble. And you prayed his name didn't get brought up afterward. But you, here you were, hearing his name.

Roman looked dead at you as you remained silent. "I don't know what you did to cause such a big distraction to Cody, but it worked, and I need you to do whatever power you have to do it again."

If only he knew. If only the things you and Cody had done had caused the distractions. With Brock, these minor distractions taunted him, distracted the referee, and even distracted him so Roman could re-strengthen himself and take him down.

Drew, although it was fucked, you flirted with him and made him feel like his wife never existed; you never once touched him, but you damn sure made him want to touch you.

Cody, it took lots of flirtation, a whole lot of him calling your bullshit and one night. One fucking night that caused the scars for you and to allow Cody to be distracted.

"I don't think it's gonna work again; he's gotten fool once; he might not be a fool again." You tell him. However, Roman chuckles as he shakes his head.

"People around here say that you're the best at what you do, the best at distracting people." He said. "Are you doubting yourself? Are you telling me that you're not good at your job?"

You rolled your eyes at Roman. Though if any of his other family members did that, he would be pissed. But unlike the others, you weren't afraid of Roman or to speak up.

"I have only ever distracted someone to the point where they lose and lose only. Not lose and then come back a year later with another title shot."

Roman went silent, then leaned forward, rubbing his chin as he listened to what you said. "I get it. This is a difficult challenge. Normally, a person wouldn't be as easily distracted a second time. But I need you, Y/N. I need you to do whatever it takes to ensure this." He speaks, pointing at his belt. "Stay with me."

It was his words that played in your head multiple times.

"I need you, Y/N." You cared about your cousin and would do whatever it took to ensure he was a champion, so you eventually agreed to a second round of distractions at Cody.

You knew where Cody's bus was and where you were near it. The fact that it was still parked indicated that he was still around and hadn't returned.

You lay your back against the bus, waiting patiently for him to appear. Then, you suddenly saw a figure from afar, still in his gear, walking in your direction.

This was the first time in almost a year since you saw him again. You have to admit to yourself that you're nervous as shit. Memories that the two of you shared played in the back of your head. And the closer he got, the more you regretted this again.

His eyes landed on you as you bit your lip, watching him approach you. From his expression, it looked like he was expecting you.

Cody. To him, you were like a plague that wouldn't go away. That night damaged him in many ways you couldn't imagine. He couldn't get over that night. It was the most he had ever been vulnerable. He, too, made a vow to himself.

When in doubt, never let you in again if you ever come back. He wanted you as far away from him as possible.

But right now, you were already making it complicated, especially how you looked at him, bit down on your lip, and looked at him with such innocence. And the amount of skin.

Your skin was his weakness, the way it was soft every time he touched it, the way you allowed yourself to show so much and not give a damn if it was too revealing.

However, Cody sighed, giving you the coldest response ever.

"What the hell do you want?" He asked you. You gave him a small smile as you raised your hands in defense and straightened yourself up, off against his bus. "I didn't come here to start anything; I just came here to congratulate you." You said. "You promised yourself that you would finish your story, and now you're one step closer."

Cody eyed you. You were being genuine, he can tell. But he knew you didn't come here for just that.

"Thank you." He said. "Anything else?"

You put a smile on your face as you took a step closer to him. Cody watched you with caution as if you were going to cause destruction.

"You left the Tribal Chief very angry." You spoke. Cody laughs as he looks down before looking back up at you. "And that concerns me because?"

"Because he isn't going to go easy on you. He's already beaten you once; he doesn't want to deal with you again."

"Well, that sounds like a Roman Reigns problem," Cody said. "Anything else?"

You didn't get as close to him until now, taking a step closer as he watched you. His expression was unreadable but slightly changed as you looked up at him. You noticed the gulp that went down his throat. His chest rose and fell heavily, but his eyes never left yours.

"I'm looking forward to seeing what you have in store on the way to WrestleMania," you said.

You lifted your hand, reaching on his chest, attempting to touch whether it was a Cody. He noticed your hand and immediately snapped by grabbing your wrist.

"Don't fucking touch me."

His voice was cold. He looked at you with a heartless expression, and you couldn't help but have your smile fade.

He's changed, you thought. It wasn't like he didn't act like this last time you targeted him. He knew what you were doing and tried his hardest not to let you get to him, but he was never heartless. Which made you think it was the only reason why your plan even worked despite him seeing your bullshit.

And it wasn't that you found a way to toy with him; he allowed you to despite everything.

Cody vowed to himself that if you ever came in contact with him, even if it meant himself earning a title opportunity against your cousin, he was going to let what happen.

You gasped as he aggressively let go of your hand. He walked past without a word, climbing into his bus and slamming the door shut.

You didn't realize that you were holding your breath as your chest started rising up and down. You knew getting Cody distracted would be more challenging than expected this time, but you didn't realize exactly how difficult it was. You knew he wouldn't want to deal with this again. You were part of why he lost his match in April. You could tell he was distracted, eyeing you every time he noticed you were there after forgetting.

You didn't realize he wasn't mad at you because you cost him his match. He couldn't blame you. He blamed himself for allowing you to distract him. It was that night—the night he made himself vulnerable, the night all these emotions and tensions the two of you had led up to it.

Cody leaned against his table and let out a shook breath, rubbing his face. God, you looked gorgeous, he thought. But he hated you so much. He hated that you mentally impacted him; it was just a game. A fucking game.

-

Cody sat in an empty bar somewhere in Tampa as he downed another drink, bourbon whisky.

He should be celebrating; he just won the Royal Rumble for the second time in a row. Why is he so depressed?

He couldn't get you out of his head.

He knew when exactly you started to get him. The first you moaned his name, he almost went feral, and he barely touched you. He doesn't know if it slipped out of you or if you did it purposely to get inside his head. But it worked.

He had wondered what it would feel like to feel you, touch you, make you moan his name again. Then it happened, he got the experience. It fucked him up in ways he knew it would the minute it happened.

He hates you. But as fucked up as it sounds, if he had an opportunity to fuck you again with no consequences, no mind games, he would do it in a heartbeat.

Over

And over

And over again.

"Yo, Uce!" Cody's head turned as a figure walked in his direction.

Jey Uso. Twin brother of Jimmy, your second oldest brother. You two had a falling out after SummerSlam. Nothing personal that you did. Jey always thought you deserved better than to be just Roman's puppet. You do whatever Roman says, and Jey hates the fact that he used you.

Cody poured another glass of bourbon as Jey sat beside him, noticing the long face. "You good uce?" Jey asked.

Cody rubbed his temple after taking a sip from his class and placing it down. He was unsure if he should tell Jey about you. Regardless of the wrong terms you two were on, Jey loved you. You were closer to Jey than your other two brothers.

But despite debating on whether or not Cody should tell Jey, he did anyway.

"I ran into your sister earlier," Cody said. Jey's expression changed as he took a seat next to him.

Jey knew how much you played a big part in his match against Roman last WrestleMania. He never knew the extent you took to pull off you. Only that you achieved it, allowing yourself to get to Cody.

But Jey missed you, and hearing Cody mention your name only means that Roman sent you to distract him again, which he didn't like.

"Look, Uce, you gotta not let Y/N get to you like she did last time," Jey said. "Roman is only making her do this so he can get you when you're not paying attention."

If only you knew, Cody thought. Jey doesn't know what happened. No one knows but you and Cody.

However, Cody chuckled when Jey mentioned Roman. The two knew that Roman only kept you around to help him with his opponents. Otherwise, he wouldn't keep you around.

"Does she always listen to him?" Cody asked your brother, who shook his head while grabbing a glass from the bartender and pouring himself a drink. "Man, I don't enjoy seeing him tell her what to do. I think she only does it because Roman is like a brother to all of us."

Cody took in what Jey said. He knew that you and your brothers were closer to Roman than any other cousins in the family.

"Whatever happened between you two?" Jey asked. I don't wanna bring up the past, but she got you pretty distracted." Cody sighed as he looked down at his drink. "She did get me distracted. I can't even tell how because I don't know how."

It was a half lie. Of course, he knew how she distracted him, but he was unsure what led up to that night.

Neither of them was drunk; there was no buildup or arguments.

He couldn't take it anymore. He blacked out.

"Aye, whatever she's trying to do, just know it's all Roman who's behind it," Jey said as he drowned the last bit of drink in his glass cup. He then stood up and grabbed Cody's shoulders, shaking him. "You just won the Royal Rumble for the second time; we should be celebrating uce!"

Cody smiles as he lets out a laugh. "Alright, alright, let's get on the celebration then,"

"Yeet!" Jey exclaimed. "Aye, let's get another bottle over here!"

Cody laughed as a bottle made its way towards the two men. However, despite the drinks, despite the celebrating he and Jey were doing

You were still in the back of his head

-

It's been a week. It was a week that started as a celebration, to confusion and questions, to an answer that you thought was the dumbest thing Cody had ever made.

The minute you saw your other cousin, Dwayne, backstage on Smackdown, you were convinced it had something to do with Roman.

What you didn't think was going to happen was Cody telling the whole world that he would not be facing Roman at WrestleMania, just for Dwayne to appear as Roman's new opponent.

You didn't want to interact with Cody again, incredibly when distracting him. But you also never wanted Cody to give up his opportunity to face Roman at WrestleMania and become champion. You weren't that heartless.

You stood backstage, watching the whole thing play out, Dwayne and Roman face to face as Cody walked out of the ring.

As the two made eye contact, your eyes drifted towards the curtains—the same curtains Cody had come out of.

His expression was numb but readable. You knew Cody wasn't fond of giving up his WrestleMania spot to Dwayne. You had no idea how or why this sudden feeling of care came from, but the moment Cody broke eye contact and began to walk off, your hands found themselves on his arms, pulling him back.

"That was an idiotic decision to make," You spoke. At first, Cody didn't look at you, but when you said what he said, he looked at you.

"Why do you care?" He asked.

"I don't," you lied. Cody called bullshit through your words. But he didn't say anything. He just sighed, like he always does.

"It doesn't matter why I made my decision," he said. “You don't have to follow your cousin's plan and get me off track. I did everyone a favor."

You rolled your eyes at Cody. It was now your turn to see his bullshit, only this time you called him out for it. "You knew, regardless, our interaction would happen the moment you won the Royal Rumble. It took a lot to get in your head last year, and now you're giving up so easily." You said. "Drop whatever act you got going on."

Cody remained silent as he stared at you, digesting your words. You were right; he was giving up so easily. He wouldn't admit that you had got in his head, just like the millions of people he has interacted with this week.

Seth Rollins, Adam Pearce, Nick Aldis, Dwayne, you. His head was all over the place right now, and the last thing he wanted to do was drown himself with a bottle in his bus.

His head momentarily snapped out of his thoughts as he realized how close the two were. He could smell you. You smelled amazing.

Like Vanilla.

And his cologne was just as strong as your scent as you fought against it, clouding your head.

You noticed the way his eyes wandered down you, making you feel exposed, hot even. Cody couldn't help but stare at you just for a moment. He knew his weakness when it came to you was your skin.

Oh, it would feel great to touch and taste you right now. The outfit spun his head, which showed much more skin than expected.

You didn't even do anything, and Cody was already getting distracted.

And so were you, as you didn't realize both your cousins and Heyman were walking out the curtains, only to see how incredibly close you two were.

"Y/N!" Roman's voice was powerful and low and caused you to flinch as you let go of Cody's arms, creating space for him.

Both Dwayne and Roman look at you. It's imitating having one look at you. Both? It felt like they were scolding you. You couldn't even look at them.

And Cody noticed this. He could glimpse fear in your eyes.

Y/N, afraid of your cousin, Cody thought. He knew that you do whatever Roman tells you to do. But he's now starting to believe he controls you too much.

"Let's go," Roman looks at you. You didn't say anything as you walked off. Heyman follows behind you as Cody watches you leave.

However, he notices Roman staring at him. Cody narrowed his eyes at Roman as the two just stood there.

Roman has never questioned you about Cody. The man he despises is eyeing his little cousin, whom he considers more of a sister.

It has him questioning if something is going on between the two of you that he's missing.

-

Next Part

[damiansgoodgirll]

can you please write an Damian Priest X Fem Reader Story where Reader calms him and takes care of him after SummerSlam🥺?!

damian priest x reader

‼️angry damian, sad damian, just damian in general lol

likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated!

calm after the storm

you were speechless as you watched backstage dom turning on rhea and helping liv retain the title. that’s not how it was supposed to go.

of course, you imagined damian being pissed. you were too. and as you waited for rhea to come back backstage, you tried to calm damian down. you looked out for him everywhere backstage and when you found him you noticed how worried he was.

“something’s going to happen hermosa” he whispered, almost too sure something in his match will go downhill.

“don’t think about that…think about focusing on your match. focus on that okay?” he nodded at your words “come here…” you gently pushed his head down just to kiss him softly on the lips “go and do your best”

“i always do my best” he smiled at you.

“i know…”

waiting for his match to start was pure agony. you both found rhea backstage crying and you tried to comfort her as much as possible but she felt betrayed and nothing you told her would possibly help her.

but you stayed with her during all of the other matches. keeping her company and trying to cheer her up. the anticipation of damian’s match was overwhelming, he had this feeling that something would have gone wrong and you couldn’t shake that feeling away either.

rhea stayed with you the whole match. comforting each other as she could sense you were a nervous wreck.

“damian’s got this…” she whispered softly to you. you wanted to believe her so badly but everything went down when you saw finn stepping inside the stadium.

“he’s gonna screw damian’s up” you mumbled. gasping when you saw the mischievous smile he had on his face “why is he doing this?”

“i don’t know…” rhea quietly answered, fearing that finn would cost him the title just like dom did with her.

damian fought with all of his energy but gunther was able to pin him and make himself the new heavyweight world champion. damian’s eyes were looking at finn, trying to find a reason on why his own best friend would betray him like that.

“fuck…” you breathed.

rhea couldn’t believe it either. see was too shocked and still upset for her own match. she wasn’t expecting today to be the end of the judgment day and neither were you.

“you should stay here for damian…i, i don’t think i can handle all of this right now…i would love to kick both finn and dom’s asses but i don’t think i have the energy to do so right now…” rhea apprehensive smiled at you “i just wanna go back to the hotel and rest”

you watched her with a sad smile “of course…if you need me text me okay?” you hugged her tightly and she hugged you back.

“i will, thank you y/n…” she said before leaving.

you waited for damian. you didn’t know which damian you would have met. the sad one? the angry one? you didn’t know and you were afraid to find out.

but a couple of minutes later the door flew open and a very angry damian came into the room.

“no es posible! que hijo de puta! finn y dom son hombres muertos! lo juro, me vengaré!” damian blurted out in spanish, wishing you could understand what he was saying but you didn’t understand a single word so you sat there, waiting for him to finish his tantrum.

“damian…” you whispered softly.

“they are fucking bastard!” he screamed again, shoving one chair to the side “dom and finn! jd too! they are gonna pay for tonight!” you understood he was mad but shoving things down wasn’t the right way to handle things “i swear on my life, they are gonna regret what they just did! lo juro!”

“damian please…” you tried to speak with him but he wouldn’t let you talk, he just simply wouldn’t listen.

“que idiotas!” he screamed even louder, shoving another chair to the other side of the room, making you suddenly flinch at his action.

when he heard the little gasp coming out from your mouth, he realised that maybe he went too far. he immediately turned to look at you and when he met your face, he could see in your eyes that he definitely overstepped. you were scared, and the last thing damian needed was you being scared of him, because of him.

“hermosa, hey…” he gently kneeled down to match your height while you were still sitting on the couch “mirame porfavor…” your eyes met and damian knew that getting this angry wasn’t fair, especially to you.

“i’m so sorry damian for everything that happened tonight…” you whispered, making him smile, a sad smile but he knew he could still count on you “and what happened wasn’t fair…not to rhea and definitely not to you…but please don’t let this anger define you. you have all the right to feel like you are feeling right now, i won’t deny that…you can feel anger, sadness, disappointment but breaking stuff around won’t solve your problem” you said, your hands bringing his face closer to you so that you could rest your forehead on his “i will be here for you damian, always…and i will help you heal, just promise me you won’t go crazy like this anymore in front of me…it’s kinda crazy and scary” you chuckled making him laugh too.

“i promise you hermosa…” his lips met your forehead in a soft kiss “thank you for your words, and your patience, you always know what to say to me…”

you smiled, bringing his face closer again, just this time, your lips meeting his lips. featherlight kisses, smiling against each other’s lips, showing each other how much trust there was between the two of you “now” you kissed him again “we could go back to the hotel” another kiss “and i can show you” another kiss but this time moving down to his neck “how good i am at comforting my love” another kiss, moving slower and lower to his collarbone.

you felt him shiver under your touch, good sign that maybe he was going to give in and give you the control you normally wouldn’t have.

damian thought about that. after the rough night he just had, all he wanted was to be taken care of and he knew that the only person he wanted was you “okay…i trust you mariposa” he whispered when he felt your lips against his neck once again.

maybe, it wasn’t an awful night after all.

[littlefireball]

ᴡʏ|ᴄᴀɴ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴇʟᴘ ꜰ**ᴋ ᴍᴇ? (ᴍ)

ᴘʟᴀʏʙᴏʏ ᴡᴏᴏʏᴏᴜɴɢ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ 

ꜰᴋ ᴀᴡᴀʏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀɪɴ ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: ꜱᴍᴜᴛ|ᴘʀᴏᴛᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅ ꜱᴇx|ᴄᴀʀ ꜱᴇx|ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ᴏᴜᴛ|ɴᴇᴄᴋ ᴋɪꜱꜱ|ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴᴇᴅ ᴏꜰ ᴀʟᴄᴏʜᴏʟ|ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ɢᴇᴛꜱ ᴅʀᴜɴᴋ|ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴇɴᴇᴍɪᴇꜱ ᴛᴏ ʟᴏᴠᴇʀꜱ|

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 3.7ᴋ

Summary: You hate him and he hates you. But what if the alcohol makes you beg for him? Well, that's not good.

It was a chilly autumn evening, and the streets were painted with hues of orange and red as the sun began its descent towards the horizon. You walked briskly through the familiar alleys, your steps echoing off the cobblestones, each one carrying the weight of a heart heavy with resentment.

"What the fuck am I doing here?" You blamed yourself. The mere idea of encountering someone you despise again later darkened your mood even further─originally, your mood soured because of menstruation. If your friend hadn't begged over and over again, you would never have said yes. "It'll be fun," she said, with a smile that masked the underlying tension in the air. "You two need to let go of your differences and just enjoy each other's company for once." 

"Bullshit." You rolled your eyes, letting out an exaggerated sigh. No way could you ever go through with it, especially when it came to Wooyoung. He was a playboy you had known for years—once a friend, now a rival. You chuckled at the absurdity of having ever thought you could be friends or even fall for him. He was charming, handsome, and caring, seemingly the perfect match for you. But on the very day you planned to confess your feelings, you overheard him chatting with his friends—"Y/N? I'm just having fun. Who would actually want her, honestly?" In that moment, your dreams shattered, and all the love was gone, replaced by hatred. 

Of course, you didn't tell your mutual friend the truth. You could never let Wooyoung know. 

"Finally, you're here!" Your friend hurried to swing the door open as soon as the knock echoed through the hallway. "And look, Wooyoung's here too."

"I get it, you don't need to remind me" you replied, managing a strained smile while slipping off your shoes. You deliberately averted your eyes from Wooyoung as you spotted him. "I won't stay long." 

"Why not? I'm heading overseas next week, so just hang out with me a bit longer!!"

"Fine."

The party was a blur of loud music, laughter, and the clinking of glasses. People milled around, their faces lit up with excitement and the promise of a good time. You found yourself standing in a corner, nursing a drink and trying to ignore the buzz of conversation around you. 

It was then that you saw him, across the room, standing alone, looking as out of place as you felt. Your eyes met briefly, and for a moment, you thought you saw a flicker of something in them—perhaps regret, or even a longing for better days. But it was gone in an instant, replaced by the familiar scowl of contempt.

The air crackled with tension between the two of you, a storm brewing just beneath the surface, ready to erupt. It happened sooner than you expected. As you headed toward the bar for another drink, he stepped in your path, his voice a dark whisper. 

"What are you doing here?" he spat, his eyes narrowed into slits.

"I could ask you the same thing," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady.

"Ugh. If you can't handle your drink, just head home, jerk." 

"Mind your own business, idiot," You countered, your voice spoke up. "Why don't you just leave if you're so bothered? Your face is just grossing me out." 

"That's rich coming from you," He snapped, stepping closer. "I'm here to care for you and you blame me?" 

"Ha!Funny!Is this how you care for others?" You sneered, giving him a scornful look. "Just get out of my face."

"It's no doubt why you have no boyfriend, huh? You period everyday?" 

"So what about you? Did you eat shit everyday so that your mouth is fucking smelly?"　

Once more, the two of you found yourselves caught in a fierce dispute, words slicing through the air like sharp blades. The onlookers around you two blurred into the background, leaving only the two of you engaged in a fierce clash of determination. 

"Hey you two just stop!" Your shared friend finally stepped in, breaking the tension. "Can't you guys just keep in peace for one second?"

"Never." You two yelped at the same time.

"I'm done." You grabbed your things and made your way to the door, ignoring your friend. "I could never talk with this asshole anymore." 

"Me either. Fuck you, asshole." Wooyoung roared, giving you a middle finger. 

"Fuck you, dickhead." You stormed out of the party, a whirlwind of humiliation and fury swirling within you. The cool night air wrapped around you like a brisk embrace, yet it did nothing to calm your frayed nerves. As you meandered through the streets, your mind raced with a chaotic mix of anger and bewilderment. Eventually, you found yourself at a bar, a shadowy refuge where you could immerse yourself in the comforting haze of drink.

The hours passed in a blur of drinks and solitude. you lost count of how many you had consumed, but you knew you were drunk. Your head was spinning. You were not exactly built for it, and even a small amount made your face flush bright red. 

"Damn it…" You placed your palm on your forehead as a wave of dizziness swept over you. A grimace appeared on your face as the throbbing pain intensified, with beads of sweat running down your brow. You were on your period right now, that fierce argument earlier was only going to make things worse. You ended up feeling intense pain, like a hammer pounding on your lower abdomen, leaving you doubled over and unable to stand.

"I need someone to help…" You murmured, struggling to find your phone. 

—--

"Where did she go?" Your friend called you several times but you missed them all. The loud music in the bar completely drowned out your ringtone.

"Hey, Wooyoung. Could you help me to find her?" Your friend asked. 

"What?Me?Nope." Wooyoung took a sip from his drink, not caring for your safety. 

"You're the one who pissed her off, damn it." 

"Tsk, fine." Wooyoung rolled his eyes, reluctantly setting down his glass and dialing your phone. 

In truth, he didn't harbor any real hatred for you, at least not to the extent that you loathed him. He's known as a playboy, notorious for his flings with numerous female classmates, and countless girls have bared their hearts to him. Yet, he turned them all down, unable to feel a spark with any of them—until you came along. Your warmth, your radiant smile, everything about you captivated him. He's convinced that you must have feelings for him too; after all, you wouldn't go out of your way to gather the little tokens he gifted you, nor would you blush so deeply when speaking with him.

But then, everything took a turn.

He confided in his friends about wanting a serious relationship with you, only to be met with laughter from those he called friends. To save face, he brushed it off as a joke. Yet, that single remark shattered all the good moments you had shared. He contemplated making another move on you, but your sudden shift in demeanor ignited a fury within him, leading to arguments every time you crossed paths.

"Tsk…why do I need to find her?" Wooyoung complained, walking on the street aimlessly. He sighed, the cold wind outside made him sober. In fact, he missed the good times you'd shared, the laughter and camaraderie that had once defined your friendship, or even love. He wished with all his might that things could go back to the way they were, but he knew it was impossible.

—--

Out of nowhere, you found yourself reaching for your phone. Your fingers dialed Wooyoung's number almost instinctively, as if your subconscious mind knew what your heart desired. The phone rang a few times before he picked up, his voice sounding distant and wary.

"What do you want?" he asked, his tone guarded.

"I...I need help," You stumbled, your words slurring together.

There was a pause on the other end of the line, and then he said, "Where are you?"

You told him the name of the bar, and within minutes, he was there. 

"Why did you drink that much?!I told you just go back home and you come to the bar?" Wooyoung blamed you while helping you out of your seat, but you suddenly hissed in pain.

"What's wrong?" 

"It hurts!" 

"Where?" 

"Cunt." Wooyoung nearly let out a shout of astonishment, but quickly clamped a hand over his mouth. He was taken aback by how candid you were in your drunken state.

"What…What??" 

"I said period ~pain!" 

"Ugh…" He helplessly rolled his eyes, wrapping your arms around his shoulder as he tried to pick you up. But instead of rising, you leaned back, seizing his collar and sending him tumbling onto you. He caught himself with both hands on the back of the chair, leaning in so close that he could feel the warmth of your breath, laced with the intoxicating scent of alcohol, brush against his face.

"Fuck me, Wooyoung." You whispered, barely opened your eyes. You had no idea what you were doing but just followed your inner desire. 

"What the heck are you talking about?" Wooyoung's fist tightened, his heart pounding wildly at the sound of your pleas. He caught a glimpse of your chest, the neckline dipping enticingly from the earlier movement. As he swallowed hard, a rush of desire surged through him, getting an erection. But he tried to keep calm;he didn't want to take advantage of you. 

"I said fuck me!Make your cock inside me!" 

"Fuck you, bitch." He couldn't resist the lust within him anymore, all the rationale faded away as you begged with moan. He wanted to fuck you, fuck you so hard until you ask him to stop. "You beg for it." 

With your legs entwined around his waist, he effortlessly hoisted you up, gathering you close. Luckily, the car was just a short distance from the bar. He fished out the keys, started the engine, swung open the door, and gently set you down in the back seat. He put your gathering on the front seat and took out a condom from the box, climbing over you. 

"I ask you one more time, dear. Do you want me to fuck you, huh?" He tucked your hair at the back, watching your every detail until his hand stopped at your chin. "It's the last chance to say no." 

"I want you, Wooyoung." Emotions surged within you, and tears began to brim in your eyes, leaving you puzzled about their origin. Perhaps it was the weight of finally revealing your deepest emotions that overwhelmed you, making it impossible to hold back. 

Your eyes met in a moment of unspoken understanding, as if the world around you faded into obscurity. "Please, it hurts." Your gaze was hazy with alcohol's gentle embrace, yet it sparkled with a mischievous light that drew him in. 

"Fuck." Before Wooyoung finished his words, his lips pressed against yours. The kiss was nothing you had ever experienced before. It was clumsy, yet passionate, fueled by the reckless abandon that only liquor can bring. Your lips met with a soft thud, then parted, only to find yourselves drawn back together in a desperate embrace. You both tasted of sweet wine and each other, of bitter beer, their flavours mingling in a dance of sensation. 

"I never hated you." Wooyoung said between the kisses, his head divided into the crook of your neck. You arched your neck, feeling his lips trailed up and down along the curve of it.  The kiss became more intense, each passionate press of lips a testament to the depth of your connection.

Sliding down your sleeve to expose your bra, the cold sensation sent shivers down your spine. He buried his head in your chest, his hand grabbed the hem of your bra and pulled it down, wrapping around your nipple with his warm mouth. You opened your mouth for better breathing as his tongue went rough on your nipple, the wet muscle moved in a circle way and tapped your skin at a fast pace, making you moan at shyness. 

Lips parted, he sat up straight to unzip his pants. The tightness underneath made him feel uncomfortable, he needed to release. "Please don't stop." "Hang on, princess. How horny are you? Aren't you in your period?" Before you whined at discomfort, he leaned back to suck you breast, making you squirm as if an electricity passed through your body. 

"You like it?" A soft laugh escaped his lips as he lifted your dress, planting a series of tender kisses that journeyed from your chest to your stomach. Your upper body arched and fell rhythmically, each breath coming in heavy gasps, the thrill he ignited within you sending your mind into a delightful whirl. 

Lifting up your thighs, he pulled down your panties, finding your blood was not that much as he expected. Maybe thanks to the help of alcohol, he didn't feel too disgusted. 

"Maybe we need a towel." He extended his hand to grab a towel from the car trunk, grabbing your thighs up and placing it under both of your bodies. "I'll make you squirt after all." 

Smiled, he wrapped up a condom and positioned himself between your thighs. "Beg me one more time, y/n." "Please, woo─oh fuck!" His big fat cock slipped into your cunt in one go, making you arch your back and moan so loud. The blood was just like a lube, he could move in and out easily without feeling hurt. 

"Woo…oh fuck…" Your hands found their way to your clit, caressing the fold slightly as Wooyoung pulsed into your cunt without mercy. It was so good; the period pain gradually subsided each time his length skimmed your velvet wall, kissed your spot with his hard tip. The sounds of the night—distant laughter, cars passing by—melted into the background, replaced by the thundering of your hearts and the gentle skin slapping sound. 

"Need deeper, honey." He placed your legs on his shoulder, folding you as a mating press, leaning over to go deeper until the limitation. "Shit, hurt…" "Relax, it'll be good." His fingers clutched onto your bare shoulder, grasping it tightly as he collided with your deepest spot. "Here?" He hit it once again, a loud moan flew from your lips instead of a verbal answer. Without a second thought, he aimed at the same place and surged. 

The vehicle trembled violently under Wooyoung's throbbed thrusting; it was likely catching the eyes of passersby, but he was indifferent to their stares. All he wanted was to proclaim to the world that you were finally his. "Fuckkk, slow slow slow….!!" You moaned messily and grasped his arms, feeling he was going to ruin you. Something strange gathered in your stomach, urging you to release it without care. The moan muffled as all the strength gathered on releasing, you squirted hard and wetted all Wooyoung's clothes. 

"Shit, babe. I told you." He felt his ego grow to see you squirt under him, his cock twitched at the time your wall squeezed hard when squirting. "Goodness, wooyoung…" You could sense that your second peak was drawing near; that familiar sensation had returned once more. 

"Wanna cum, huh? Cum for me again, Y/N. I love how you moan out my name when you cum." His dirty words broke your limitation and you came again, arching your back and moaning out the name of the man above you. "Shit." All the heat rushed to the tip, making his cock twitch. His thrusting lost its rhythm;he pumped into you harshly and let out a long-throaty moan as he came all in his condom. The warmth of his seed spread in your cunt and he pulled out slowly to make you feel every vein of his cock. 

"Wait," He brushed his lips against yours in a tender peck before carefully taking off his condom and tidying up the both of you. With a gentle touch, he assisted you in getting dressed, his demeanor always soft and considerate. You had already drifted into a deep slumber, overwhelmed by the intensity of the night and the effects of the alcohol, sleeping peacefully. 

The back seat offered just enough room for him to spoon you; he slid his arm beneath your shoulder while the other wrapped securely around your waist, inhaling the sweet fragrance that lingered around you. "Let me drive you home tomorrow; I can't do it right now." He pressed a soft kiss to your neck, his eyes tracing the curve of your back, lost in a sea of contemplation. He pondered how you might react if the truth came to light; perhaps you would loathe him even more or wish him harm. A chill of fear coursed through him, the anxiety that you might abandon him again, even though you had never truly belonged to him. Regret washed over him like a tide, and he tightened his embrace, feeling the weight of his emotions.  

—--

The dawn slowly crept in, painting the sky with hues of pink and orange, yet you remained unaware, nestled in his warmth. He gazed out the window, the city waking up around them, as he contemplated the path ahead. His heart was heavy with last night, but he cherished these stolen moments, knowing they could be fleeting.

He brushed a strand of hair from your face, his fingers lingering on your cheek, as if trying to memorize every detail. As the sun fully rose, casting a golden glow on your peaceful face, he decided to cherish this moment, letting go of the worry for a while. He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply, trying to absorb the scent of you, the feeling of your body pressed against his, and the warmth that seemed to radiate from you, soothing his troubled soul.

But the reality of the situation loomed, and he knew he couldn't keep hiding forever. The thought of facing the consequences, of losing your trust, sent a shiver down his spine. 

With a heavy heart, he gently disentangled himself from your embrace, leaving a kiss on your forehead before slipping out of the car. Taking a deep breath, he made his way to the convenient shop to buy some breakfast, only to find that you had already woken up and stood in front of the car door when he came back. 

"You wake up?" He said, trying to hide his nervousness. 

"Is it truly how you care for others?" You complained slightly, but your voice was not harsh at all, it was soft. 

"Ugh…I brought some food, hangover medicine, and also a pad…I think you need it." He stammered, making you let out a soft chuckle. 

"Thanks." You managed to say.

He didn't reply, but he handed you the food, your favourite bread. You couldn't believe he still remembered your love. You ate in silence for a while, the only sounds were the chewing and the distant hum of city life. 

The silence between you was comfortable, filled with unspoken understanding. He watched you eat, a small smile playing on his lips. He was grateful for these simple moments, even if he still didn't know what you thought after last night.

As you finished your breakfast, he spoke up, his voice gentle. "Are you still hurt?" 

"No." You looked up at him with no smile, your expression guarded. 

"I know what I did was wrong. I never meant to hurt you. I was just…lost."He took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts. "I'll take responsibility, I promise." 

You were surprised at his words, expecting he would say 'Let's pretend nothing happened' and drive away. Maybe you misunderstood him? 

"Then how?" You met his gaze, your eyes softening.

"Can we start over?" He approached you, his voice firm. "I never really hated you… it's just that I get really frustrated whenever you say something mean to me. I know I fucked up, and it makes sense that you'd be upset with me. Can you forgive me?" 

Your gaze softened further as he spoke, the weight of his apology hanging heavily in the air. You hesitated, not wanting to let go of the hurt so easily but also recognizing the sincerity in his eyes.

"It's not just about last night," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "It's about you wooing me just for fun. That's what you said."

"No, Y/N." He denied immediately, feeling nervous. "It was just a lie. I never meant to play with your feelings. I'm not wooing you just for kicks; I really do like you. I'm sorry for what I said to cover my tracks. Please, can we try again? Together?" 

You took a deep breath, feeling a mix of emotions swirling within you. Forgiveness wasn't something that came easily, but the way he looked at you, with such earnestness and vulnerability, made it harder to resist.

"Okay," you said, finally. "But only if you're not lying." 

He smiled, relief etched across his face. "I promise. Let me make up for you, babe."

"Who is your babe?" 

"What?Aren't you to be my girlfriend?" 

"Who said that?" 

He pouted, acting like a child. 

"Not now." 

"So in the future?" 

"I don't know. Just give me some time." 

"Okay then. I'll wait for you." He reached out and took your hand, his fingers intertwining with yours. 

And just like that, you began to rebuild your relationship, one small step at a time.

—--

(little side story)

(several months after that night)

"It's good to hear you two finally reconcile." Your mutual friend said happily. "So what did you do, wooyoung?" 

"Ugh…nothing. Just apologize and drive her home. That's it." Wooyoung said nervously. 

"You're lying, Wooyoung." 

"No!I didn't!" 

"Hey, babe. Who're you talking with?" You wrapped your arms around his shoulder, pecking at his lips and leaning on his chest. The kissing sound and your voice rang in the phone, making your friend gasp in shock. 

"YOU…YOU?!WHAT HAPPENED AT THAT NIGHT??"

"Not your business." Wooyoung smirked, hanging up the phone before flipping you over to draw you into a passionate kiss. 

tag list:@angelsaway, @yeosangcutie0615

[planetdream]

VAMPIRE SEVENTEEN

this post contains: vampirism, canon vampire lore depending on who you ask. mentions of blood, bloodsucking ofc. and mentions of sex [grinding, strength kink, orgasms] darker themes for wonwoo’s [hypnosis + kidnapping, sorry]

💌 sorry, this was rotting in my drafts. each entry has a different vibe. enjoy <3 this was requested btw

the man, the myth, the legend; SEUNGCHEOL is one of the greatest vampires out there (up there with dracula and nosferatu). he’s thought to be a myth, a story passed down generation by generation of an evil vampire that lurks in the night, you know, the usual. but every so often there’s proof, small hints that seungcheol is actually out there, lurking amongst the living. he rarely shows his face, only to seduce—plucking off one, maybe two, or groups of people for his dinner. seungcheol lusts for blood over anything. [he is indeed very dominant and very sexy—if you ask him to bite you, he absolutely will but he's more than likely to turn you.] kinda gives dracula 2020 vibe if you’ve seen it; he’s adjusting to the new world.

JEONGHAN is a rather "stereotypical" vampire. gorgeous, elegant, got turned when his hair was bleached, thus he's blond, bloodthirsty, and somehow even sexier. he's not one to lie about being a vampire, nor is jeonghan ashamed of it (he has no regrets); he'll flash his fangs or drink from someone in public, he doesn't give a fuck. and of course, what a slut he is. he loves to drink the blood of the person he's fucking, right as they're creaming for him. has allegedly had the most threesomes out of the thirteen. patrick bates type, flexing in the mirror as he's fucking; mind u, he can't see himself. has had a hand in the creation of a few vampires (direct result of him being slutty)

in his current lifetime, JOSHUA has decided to lay low. he's had several lifetimes of partying, drinking freely and the usual drama in the vampire community (centuries of arguing over the same shit). right now, he feels a bit lost, like something is missing. but he’s gained way too many hobbies to keep track of and he’s even started that wine company he’s dreamed of (mind you that was 100 years ago). he’s yearning, aching, lonely. envisioning him to be the type to be constantly searching for a soul that's like his long lost lover…signs up for hinge (bad idea); all of his matches want him to drink their blood once they find out that he’s a vampire, he’s not really into those that are eager for it.

ok im thinking vampire prince JUNHUI. you meet eyes with him in passing on a busy day. since then, he's appeared in all your dreams (most of them being of the romantic/erotic variety besides the small, sudden glimpses of blood and horrors, physically feeling a piercing sensation in your neck despite being asleep), he's shown up across the street of your work only to disappear in a blink, you've seen him in crowded places, just staring at you—strange, soft music playing in your head whenever he appears, seemingly caught up in his mystery. he doesn't appear for you until he's sure you need him; typically when something fairly traumatic happens. he sweeps you away in a time of uncertainty, offering to be your protector and to show you 'a new world'.

vampire boyfie SOONYOUNG. in classic vampire suitor fashion; he wines you, dines you, and if you want sixtynine (and other pleasures) are definitely on the table as well. i just imagine him to be extremely sweet and well meaning; which leads me to believe, he doesn’t tell you that he’s a vampire until like date five (he already assumes ur his partner by then). has a dilemma of ‘will they really love me if they knew about my affliction’. so he tells you, voice shaking. and you’re just like ??? hoshi? a vampire? LOL…. then he shows you his fangs—you watch how they protrude from his gums in real time; it’s quick, if you blinked you would have missed it. realizes that might’ve been a little off-putting and gets embarrassed. it’s okay tho, bc it makes him hotter :p

WONWOO, your incredibly hot history professor. you catch him on a dark street near campus one night, teeth buried into the neck of one of his students; veins popping out of his skin, face red in hunger as he feeds and feeds. once he spots you, he drops his prey—eyes filled with a look that’s a cross between fury and disappointment as he stomps over to you. it’s unnecessary to run, he’s already caught you before you’ve even turned your back. he whispers in your ear, tone enchanting like a lullaby. when you wake up, you find that your dark surrounding is actually a small, velvety box that contains you; stripped of your clothing in exchange for old satin material.

another vampire of the elegant variety JIHOON knows exactly how he wants to live the rest of his life, and he's not exactly looking for anything 'new'. he sticks to his bubble, his same set of friends and he only gets out every so often; preferring to bury himself within his own darkness and stench (a singular coffin in a singular room with no windows) only to come out for feasting purposes. i think that the one thing that does keep him tied to the earthly world is music; and often, he has published his own throughout the years under various names and genres. to jihoon, the best part of living (or lack their of) is the music; in addition to experiencing as much history as he has.

vampire boyfriend SEOKMIN longs for your blood. he craves to bite you. literally just say the word and he'll bite you. but only if you want. did i mention that he wants to bite you? has to look away from you when you're talking because he gets distracted by the pulsing vein in your neck; it speaks to him, whispering the breezing sound of blood rushing. he has to either look away from you or lock eyes intently with you; which ends up just looking like he's begging for pussy. and truth is, it absolutely does get him hard just thinking about drinking your sweet crimson nectar….oh the things he’d do..

ok so MINGYU has an advantage bc not only is he a vampire but he's built! like yeah, his physique won't change now that he's a vampire, and yeah, he now has vampire strength—he still goes to the gym. kind of just out of routine, but he says it still gives him a euphoric feeling. that being said, loves to pick you up and throw you around. strength play. you remember the type of sex bella and edward had in breaking dawn? that’s a regular for mingyu. almost regularly having to by new bed frames because when mingyu fucks, he really fucks. don’t worry though, he’s not always rough!

i am inclined to believe that MINGHAO is throwing blade-style, sexy bloodbath vampire parties as a sort of side gig or he's just been swayed into the club scene this lifetime. he's the guy you keep seeing at the club for weeks on end, and when you lock eyes with him, you hear a whispering in your ear. and all of a sudden, you want to approach him but he's gone before you can. one night he's the one to approach you. thus queuing a heavy, steamy make out in the club followed by some grinding. next thing you know, you're at his place and he's showing you all that life can truly be, all of the pleasures and curiosities. he shows you his fangs, as well, doesn't care if you're scared or not (he likes the fear, though). he does ask to bite you; and if you say yes, he indeed marks you up.

VERNON got bit rather recently (couple hundred years). in his human life he was very curious about the concept of life as well as life after death, immortality, and subsequently, vampirism. he drove himself into become a madman until his studies led him to becoming his own study subject. he projects that, if he's lucky, in the next hundred years he'll be able to build a vampirism research facility. despite being a vampire, there are still some things that he doesn't know. and for some reason, even after becoming a vampire, his research is always with humans in mind. he wants to help humanity improve, evolve, possibly to something greater.

SEUNGKWAN found a way to get rich off of being a vampire. he's a celebrity; a multimillion dollar 3-book deal (the first being an autobiography, he's thinking of making a vampire 48 laws of power next) and a late, late, late night talk show. occasionally joins the news to talk about the latest in vampire society (he's a spokesperson of sorts, often campaigning for vampire rights and such) and politics. inclined to believe he was a vampire therapist at one point. he’s more than just a pretty face and excellent conversationalist, though, he's had to overcome a lot of trials and tribulations in his many lifetimes (the perseverance of a vampire now available at your local bookstore)

vampire lee CHAN is dangerous!!! he's snatching hearts and breaking them (and slurping the blood out of them). the type of vampire that just needs some black sunglasses and he's fully able to walk in the daylight (no, he doesn't sparkle, but he wishes he could). doesn't have many enemies unless you count some of his exes then well.... he's not into turning anybody because although he loves being a vampire, those first few thousand years were filled with so much agony—watching your loved ones pass on, witnessing horrors beyond your imagine and knowing that there is nothing you could possibly do about it despite your gift of immortality. he'd rather just drain people of their blood and leave it at that (genuinely thinks its foolish to want to be a vampire, and will be offended if asked to turn someone). seriously, don't ask him to turn you.

[heyimdove]

More on why Persuasion is the real Jane Austen parallel to Aziracrow, and why Pride and Prejudice is not, because I can’t stop dwelling.

There’s a lot here so I’ll try to structure this in a way that makes sense. Wish me luck.

I’ve seen so many people equate Aziraphale to Lizzie and Crowley to Darcy, but these comparisons don’t make sense. Character-wise, they are far more like Anne Elliot and Frederick Wentworth, respectively.

We’ll start with Elizabeth Bennet, who I love with all my heart and is one of those characters I feel like I know (I’m delusional, it’s fine). Elizabeth is wonderfully intelligent, but she isn’t “accomplished” and isn’t a perfect specimen of Regency womanhood. Instead she’s sharp and headstrong. She wants to live how she wants and with someone she loves for a partner. She rejects a match that is, on paper, perfect and would solve all her family’s problems, because she won’t settle for unhappiness. You know who that doesn’t sound like?

Aziraphale, were he a Regency Era woman, would be considered very accomplished for the time; well-read, polite, even a music tutor. But he’s more unlike Elizabeth because he desires to “do what’s best for the family”. In other words, if Elizabeth Bennet was more like Aziraphale, she’d be married to Mr. Collins. She would’ve considered it her duty to marry him because it would protect her loved ones (see Aziraphale accepting the Metatron). For Aziraphale, his duty to protect trumps his personal desire.

So does that make Crowley our Lizzie? No, that doesn’t fit either, and not only because Aziraphale makes a terrible Darcy. Sure, Aziraphale’s status as an angel might be considered comparable to Darcy’s elevated status as a rich person, but Crowley has never hated Aziraphale, never even considered it, and wouldn’t hate him even after the rejection. Lizzie’s hatred is what spurs Darcy to grow. Darcy needed to be completely despised by her to decide to put in the work to be worthy of her.

Okay, so then is Crowley Darcy? Perhaps we could shoehorn that in somewhere because Darcy doesn’t seem good but actually is, or is considered grouchy, but it’s such a loose connection, it barely works-

-Especially when you consider how much better the two fit as the protagonists of Persuasion.

(And yes, shut up, I liked the Dakota Johnson one and I will be using the gifs.)

Where Pride and Prejudice is about two different people gradually seeing the value in the other, Persuasion is the story of two different people seeing the value in the other right from the start, but who then repeatedly make mistakes that keep them separate and in agony.

Aziraphale is *so* much like Anne. First, Anne is the only reasonable (read: likable) member of her high-born family, who believe people in other societal castes to not only be inferior, but disgusting.

Anne sees this is not true, and falls madly in love with the low-born Wentworth- only to be persuaded by outside input not to marry him. Station and familial duty play a part in this decision, and she regrets it for years. She is completely unable to move on.

Like Aziraphale, Anne is certainly more accomplished, for one thing, and she plays by the rules of women of her time and status. BUT her sense of mortality breaks often from that of her family. When she tries to impart her good morals upon them, they are dismissive and insulting, reacting as if Anne is the one who “doesn’t get it”.

She spends eight years with a family she barely belongs to, wondering why she ever thought the company of people like this was worth the loss of Wentworth.

For all of Anne’s kindness, she is a pushover. She’s rarely confident in herself. When she needs to speak up, or just have a direct conversation with Wentworth, she doesn’t. She can’t. She repeatedly makes Wentworth come to her.

Wentworth, meanwhile, is a far better match for Crowley than Darcy is. Wentworth will never be an aristocrat like the Elliots, but he carves out a life he considers valuable using new rules. Sound familiar?

Are Wentworth’s and Crowley’s morals obviously a bit different? Yes, of course. Crowley is a DEMON, after all. But Crowley conducts himself in such a way that he’s literally cast out of Heaven and removed from Hell- in other words, he’s twice been given “the rules” for how to act and has twice decided, nah, that’s not for me. Wentworth was given the rules for what he could have as a low-born man and became a wealthy, high-ranking naval officer. And Wentworth didn’t do that for love, either. He found the consideration of one’s wealth in determining whether they should be loved abhorrent. Wentworth did it for himself initially (bitterly too, maybe), just like Crowley saves the goats and the kids for himself.

And, of course, Crowley’s confession parallels Wentworth’s position in relation to Anne far more than Darcy’s position to Lizzie. Crowley says “if they (two apparent opposites) can do it, so can we,” because he knows he and Aziraphale love each other. At the start of Persuasion, Wentworth asks Anne to be his wife despite their differing societal rank because he knows they love each other. At the end of Persuasion, he asks again because he knows they have both been in agony, that they both love each other as much as they ever did.

Darcy, meanwhile, does not know if Lizzie loves him, but arrogantly believes she will accept on the basis that what he can offer her monetarily is better than what anyone else can, not knowing what she actually values. She demolishes him.

On that note, that’s really the only parallel between Aziracrow and Darcy/Lizzie, only Aziraphale is Darcy. Aziraphale believed Crowley would accept his offer because he believed Crowley would want to be an angel again. Crowley believed Aziraphale would accept his offer because he knew they loved each other.

These are all very different characters, but ultimately, I think we were gunning for Pride and Prejudice and wound up with Persuasion; the slowest, most agonizing burn with the most beautiful reunion. So we didn’t get “you have bewitched me, body and soul,” in S2. We got the events leading up to Persuasion, and will have S3 to watch them play out. Neil knows that Aziraphale and Crowley’s relationship is the most compelling part of the story, so I doubt they’ll be separated for long. But everything is so messy, isn’t it? So it makes sense to keep them, like Anne and Wentworth, in close proximity, in mutual, bitter, unspoken pining, but still not together. It will be absolutely delicious to watch. Isn’t that what we loved the most from S1?

Because we know they love each other. And whatever catalyzing event forces them to say it out loud will be all the better if every moment they don’t say it hurts. I don’t want a “you have bewitched me” moment, I want “I’m half agony, half hope.”

[natokkiz]

OUR PATHS | 09. so much for moral support (wc: 0.5k) cw: mentions of drinking and being drunk

EVEN IF it was all an incentive for staying later in the office today, you were determined to have fun tonight. although you swore you would get yunjin back for instigating, you were ultimately grateful for her and yangyang’s company tonight. being back at work after a week had been overwhelming, but the sight of jaemin across the room made things even more complicated. you tried to keep your mind off of him, focusing on yangyang’s arm around your waist and badly singing with yunjin to the music. yunjin even insisted that you match her energy with the drinks the moment you officially clocked out. but every so often, you couldn’t help but drift your eyes to jaemin and mark on the other side, catching jaemin looking back at you in between his conversations with mark.

after making eye contact with him for what seemed to be the fifth time, he made his way over, pulling you aside just as you tried to blend back into the crowd with your friends. he had finally decided to get over his nerves, listen to what all of his friends had been saying, and just talk to you like he had been planning for over a week. "hey y/n, can we talk?" jaemin whispered in your ear, his tone eager but insistent. his hand brushed the side of your face slightly, and you tried to ignore the way your heart raced from his touch, hoping that it was only the alcohol’s effect on you. “talk?” you replied, slurring the word a little, immediately regretting trying to stay on the same level as yunjin. "about what, jaemin? you had a whole year to talk.” your intoxicated self had tried to make a half truthful, half sarcastic remark but it was taken the wrong way. jaemin’s jaw tensed, and you noticed his eyes flicker with a mix of hurt and frustration. “that’s not really fair… and clearly, you’re drunk, y/n.” he felt discouraged but mainly concerned about you. “let’s just talk later. i can give you a ride back.” before you could respond, yangyang stepped up, his arm moving protectively around your shoulder. “i’ve got it, man. she’s with me tonight.”

“yangyang, it’s okay—” you spoke out trying to diffuse the rising tension, but yangyang jumped in again, “she doesn’t need you playing hero now.” the room felt like it had gone still, despite the bass and dancing practically shaking the room. jaemin’s eyes grew wider, to yunjin’s attention. “guys, let’s just leave it,” yunjin stepped in. you looked directly at jaemin. “i just don’t get it jaemin, why now? why all of a sudden are you pretending like you still care? you don’t get to act like that anymore.” a flash of pain crossed his face, and he muttered back, “i’m not pretending, y/n. goodnight, i’ll see you tomorrow.” the words hung heavily between you, and before either of you could say more, you turned, allowing yangyang and yunjin to walk you outside. jaemin walked back to mark, feeling defeated yet again.

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NOTES | happy halloween!! i promised a double update and here it is! but i fear this is quite spooky 👻 hope this gives y'all a little bit of insight into y/n's flaws too TAGLIST (open!) | @polarisjisung @tommina @luvv4bby @222low @luluvhs @spideykeyring @dudekiss3r @sunghoonsgfreal @jeonghansshitester @injunnie-lemon @eternallyhyucks @njmluvr @n0hyuck @junviadinho @hyunnies-world @hahaechans @p4tyaraujo @baeseungcheolie @untilthesunrises @lotties-readings @mango-bear @angelicaleex @jungaji @luvvhaechan @lionzyon @y4wnjunz @luvandletter @applejaem @pikibell @keeryverse @botchedbrat @mystverse @t-102 @skzfairies

bold = couldn't tag

[digitaldiarystuff]

I Hate You

————

summary: you and Ruben are haters with benefits when suddenly, you start craving for more

pairing: Ruben Dias x Y/N

genre: angst, fluff, maybe a little suggestive it’s a mix of everything really

————

You were about to fall asleep when you heard the door slam meaning Ruben was gone. Today was a stressful day at work and all you wanted to do was to forget, which is why you called him drunk. Your arrangement with him was simple, you hated each other any time other than when you were fucking. It started when you shouted at each other at a house party and ended in you getting screwed against the door of a bathroom mumbling ‘I hate you’s and ‘I know’s.

That’s when you made a deal, this was the only way you could blow off some steam and be in each other’s presence. You of course kept this a secret from everyone, they would never approve of you being haters with benefits with Ruben but you weren’t complaining. It wasn’t emotional, just physical but tonight after having a terrible day with your boss screaming at you nonstop, you wished you could ask him to stay. However, you bit your tongue and let him go, just like every other time.

Your cravings for affection didn’t stop there, you were constantly feeling lonely and this caused in an increase in your calls for Ruben. Before this you called each other maybe once a week but now your hand was reaching to your phone every other day. You could feel his gaze on you wondering what’s going on but he knew you weren’t that close so he never asked. You, once again called him at 1 and he answered groggily.

“Hey”

“Hey, I’m sorry were you sleeping?” you asked already regretting it.

“Yeah, what’s up?” he sounded so tired and you couldn’t bring yourself to ask him to come to you.

“I was just calling to see if I can come over?” This was the first time you were offering to drive to his, any other time you’d meet at your place because it was way more convenient for you.

“I actually have an early training tomorrow and as much as I’d like to shut your fierce mouth, I’m gonna have to pass.” he said and you could hear the smirk on his lips.

“I hate you.” you said

“I know baby.” he replied knowing how much you hated pet names, but this one only made you sad. You hung up with an empty feeling, was this sudden neediness caused by him or by you going through tough times, you wondered. It didn’t matter since either way, Ruben wasn’t the answer for your problems. You hated him and he hated you and you were just fuck buddies.

You tried sleeping but couldn’t so that’s when you decided to open your dating app, you used it every once in a while but stopped after your first time with Ruben. You never had a rule about being exclusive but he fulfilled your every need so you didn’t have the need to look for someone else but tonight, you were lonely and in need of company and you also needed to get Ruben out of your mind at least for a while.

That’s how you met Luke, he matched with you almost immediately and was happy to meet you at this hour. After some inspection you figured it wouldn’t hurt to have him come over and he obliged. He was a very handsome and tall guy with mid length light brown hair and green eyes.

“Hey” you opened the door and he was standing there with a small bouquet of flowers.

“Hi, how did you find an open flower shop?”

“Oh I was just keeping these in the freezer in case a pretty girl like you asked me to come over.” he sassily said.

You spent some time getting to know each other over glasses of wine since you just met and one thing led to another and you found yourself on his lap while he was kissing along your neck and exposed breasts. You were so lost in the moment you didn’t even see the text Ruben sent you.

“Are you still awake?”

You and Luke finished shortly after, which wasn’t anything compared to what you had with Ruben. It was good and you had an orgasm but it lacked the passion you and Ruben shared. When you had sex, it was hot and full of emotion even if they were hatred but you and Luke just satisfied each other. You asked him to stay the night and he could leave in the morning since it was late and he agreed. You were in mood for some cuddles and he gave them to you.

In the morning when you woke up he was already gone and you felt relief. You weren’t in the mood for an awkward conversation where he thinks you’re in love with him but you also couldn’t deny feeling a presence in the bed while sleeping made you feel better and you wished it was Ruben holding you.

It was now 4 p.m. and you were pretty much done for the day, sitting in your office when the door knocked. You went to get it and were surprised to see Ruben standing there.

“What are you doing here?” you asked still mad about last night.

“Hello to you too Y/N, I’m good by the way.” he smiled annoyingly and pushed the door open inviting himself in.

“Ruben I’m serious, why are you here?” you asked as he walked in the kitchen to get something to drink but his steps came to a halt suddenly and you were confused. You followed his gaze and found why he’s being weird. His eyes were set on the flowers Luke brought.

“Who are these from?” he asked after a moment nonchalantly but he slowly walked over to them to find a card inside.

“Just a friend.” you replied not knowing how to put it.

“Do I know the said friend?” he was trying so hard to not be obvious but it was clear he was interested. That’s when you decided to tease him.

“No, you don’t.”

“And he sent you flowers because…” he trailed off hoping you’d finish his sentence.

“He didn’t send me flowers Ruben, look why are we talking about this, why are you here?”

“You didn’t answer my text and I was worried you did something to yourself because you couldn’t have me.” he pouted and you remembered why you hate him, so full of himself.

“I saw your text today but I was busy.”

You walked over to the living space and he followed you.

“Hey, what did you mean when you said he didn’t send me flowers?” he inquired.

“Ruben what’s this interrogation about some flowers?” you asked annoyed.

“Just tell me” he pleaded.

“He didn’t send them, he brought them.”

“When?” his head snapped back.

“Last night.” you answered truthfully

His eyes immediately turned darker and his jaw clenched. You averted your gaze feeling weird about the whole situation. You didn’t think he would be bothered by this.

“I didn’t realize you were seeing other people.” he mumbled under his breath but still kept his cool.

“I mean we’re allowed to, aren’t we? I was feeling lonely and he agreed to keep me company.” you jabbed making him realize this was after Ruben turned you down.

“I didn’t know…” The room fell silent neither of you dared to speak. You took a deep breath.

“Ruben this whole deal isn’t working out for me, I don’t want someone to leave the second they come, I don’t need any titles or a ring but I need more than just hate sex.” you finally confessed.

“I- uhm” he couldn’t even form a sentence but this was enough for you.

“Look I’m not pressuring you into anything Ruben, it’s just, I don’t think this is going to work out.” you breathed and he had a sad face throughout your conversation.

The talk ended minutes ago but Ruben didn’t move a muscle to get out, nor did he speak.

“Are you okay?” you finally asked concerned about his demeanor.

“Yeah, I just think you’d never feel like…” he trailed off again.

“Like what?”

“Like I do.” he said as your eyes met, you couldn’t even tell if he was being serious.

“Ruben look if this is a sick joke, I swear…”

“No Y/N this isn’t a joke. Believe me, it’s been torture pretending like I still hated you because you were definitely doing so and I thought I was going crazy.” he rambled on as you grabbed his collar and crashed your lips into his.

He quickly reciprocated and deepened the kiss while lifting you up just for you to sit on top of him. You hungrily attacked his neck and a loud moan escaped his lips at the contact. You used this opportunity to remove his shirt and kept exploring his body while his hands were on your hips slowly helping you roll back and forth and this time, it was his lips on your neck and behind your ear.

“Ruben” you mewled “Take me to the bedroom”

He happily obliged carefully sitting up and carrying you with your legs wrapped around his waist. He was holding you like you weighted nothing. As he was passing by your kitchen he made a stop, slowly going in. You were utterly confused but let him do so, he held one hand under your hips while picking the flowers from the vase and throwing them in the bin. He definitely was a petty man, your petty man.

“I hate you.” you laughed but didn’t even care about the flowers.

“I know” he smiled back continuing kissing you.

[badkitty3000]

Addicted

Sometimes our bodies get a taste of something so good that it's nearly impossible to quit. No matter how bad it is for us. And right now that something is Five Hargreeves.

Five Hargreeves x Female Reader, 3,199 words, one-shot

Warnings: Smut

Addicted:

You can’t stop looking at the clock. An hour must have gone by, but when you check it again, it’s only been a few minutes. The night is going by at a crawling pace and as the seconds tick by, the more your anxiety is growing.

Don’t do it

You’re better than this

You’ve been doing so well

You don’t need him

Don’t do it

It doesn’t matter, though. You can tell yourself a thousand times to stop thinking about him, but it’s not going to stop. It doesn’t matter how many times you’ve cursed yourself for caving in and calling him. It’s an endless loop of want and regret.

You know how it’s going to go, that’s the pathetic part. You know you’re going to feel like shit the next day, and the day after that, and for another week after that. That’s how it always goes. And yet, you keep giving in. You keep punishing yourself.

Because, god damn it, he makes you feel good.

He’s your addiction. Your drug. And you’re constantly chasing that high.

Just thinking about it, about him, makes your skin hot and you can’t sit still. You’re jittery and pacing, and it’s all-consuming. The more you try to push it from your mind, the harder it comes crashing back. Second by second, minute by minute; he’s creeping into your brain, moving in, and taking up residence.

You’re sitting at home with nothing for company except some bourbon. Bourbon that reminds you of him. And you know you’re going to do it. It’s after one in the morning but you know he’s awake. Just one phone call and he’ll be there. No matter what you said to him the last time, he’ll pretend nothing is wrong and he’ll come anyway.

You know how it’s going to go, too. It’s the same every time. You’ll talk a little, have a drink or two, and wait until the tension eases. Then you’ll start to notice all of the little things that drive you crazy. The casual way he leans back, crossing one leg over the other. The way he looks at you, with that stupid self-satisfied smirk, and that fucking dimple in his cheek. And his hands. His hands doing anything, really. God, you love his hands.

Then you’ll look at him in some way; you’re not sure how, but he’ll know. He’ll lean in towards you, close enough that you can feel the warmth of his body and smell the faded scent of after shave that was put on much earlier in the day. He’ll lean in with that intense gaze of his, scanning your body and then your face; green eyes flashing and dark brows furrowing. He’ll reach out and touch you in some way. Maybe your hand, or your cheek; it doesn’t matter. One touch and you’re fucking toast.

The next few hours will go by in a blur. Skin slicked with sweat, lungs gasping for air, bodies tangled together. It will be everything you need and want, and fuck, it will feel so good. Until it doesn’t.

But right now, as you check the clock for what has to be the twentieth time in the last five minutes, you’ve convinced yourself that you don’t care. And you pick up your phone.

You could text, but he hates texting and it’s just easier to call. You want to hear his voice, anyway. Like some weird little mental appetizer before the main course. You take a sip from your glass, the condensation dripping onto your phone screen.

“You know it’s the middle of the night,” he says as a way of a greeting, and you can hear the smug smile forming on his face.

“Is it? Oh, sorry, I hadn’t noticed,” you reply, trying to match his usual snark.

There’s a slight pause. “I thought you said you were done with me.”

You can’t tell if he’s mocking you or if he’s genuinely confused. “Yeah, I did say that.”

“You said I was an insensitive asshole,” he reminds you.

“And I stand by that statement.”

There’s another pause and you can hear the phone shifting a bit. “So, were you just calling to remind me of that, or was there something else I can do for you?”

Of course, he’s teasing you now. He knows damn well why you’re calling. But he’s going to make you say it.

You clear your throat a bit. “Yeah well…I can’t sleep and I don’t know anyone else that stays up this late so…”

“So, you thought maybe I could help you sleep?”

Fuck, you really hate him right now! But, sure, why not? This little charade of yours isn’t going to last much longer anyway.

“Yes, actually, that’s exactly what I thought.”

There’s a second of silence and you know he’s thinking about whether or not to continue to draw this out and really make you sweat, or to put you out of your misery.

“I did just get back from a job. I haven’t showered yet.”

Dammit, you’re already feeling the dampness between your legs at that little visual. Which is exactly why he said it.  

“I don’t mind. You can shower here.”

There’s a low, quiet laugh on the other end and you roll your eyes at your desperateness.

“Alright. Be there soon.”

After you hang up, the only thing you can do is wait. And torture yourself even more by running through some very graphic scenarios in your mind. You pour another drink for yourself, and one for him, too. Then you wait some more.

You know it won’t take him long to get there. You also know he won’t bother to knock or use the door. He’ll just appear, like some magical fuck genie, ready to grant you three earth shattering orgasms in the position of your choice.

You’re sitting there on your couch, with the only light coming from a small lamp on one of the side tables, when he warps in; a nanosecond of blue before it’s gone and it’s just him standing there. You sit up straighter when you see him, glass in hand. He gives you that knowing smirk and you give him one right back.

In the dim light, you can make out the lines of his body; the sharp angles of his face. You can see he really did just get back from a job, because he hasn’t bothered to change out of his suit. The jacket is unbuttoned and his tie is loosened. But otherwise, he’s the perfect picture of a suave executive or maybe a cologne model. Or an assassin.

When you stand up, you bring him the glass of bourbon you had poured, and he takes it from you, his fingers brushing against yours in the transfer. After he takes a sip, he looks at you with that same infuriating expression that makes you want to punch him right in his gorgeous face.

“Did you miss me?” he asks with a grin.

You smile and shake your head. “Not in the slightest. Did you miss me?”

“Nope. Not one bit.”

You’ve already decided you’re not going to draw this out. Why prolong the misery? The more time you take in trying to pretend this is something else, the more time it’s going to take for you to move on the next day. So, you’re going to cut straight to the chase this time. You take another step forward until you’re close enough to see the dark green of his eyes and the soft shadow of stubble on his face. Leaning in, you brush your body against his, tipping your face up, while at the same time hooking a finger into one of his belt loops, giving it a sharp tug. He makes a quiet grunting noise, his eyes meeting yours.

One corner of your mouth turns up. “Is that a gun in your pants or are you just extremely happy to see me again?”

He raises one eyebrow, not moving. “Why don’t you find out.”

Without taking your eyes off of his, you move a hand to the front of his black fitted slacks and run a finger into the inside of the waistband. When you feel it, your smile grows bigger. As you pull out the pistol, you hold it in the palm of your hand, liking the weight of it and the sleek, simple design.

“I guess I was hoping for something else, but this is pretty fucking sexy, too.”

He only smiles and takes the gun from you, setting it on the coffee table, along with his drink.

“What? Don’t trust me?” you ask slyly.

When he grabs you around the waist and pulls you closer, the movement is swift and forceful.

“Absolutely not,” he answers before leaning down slowly, a few strands of hair falling forward and over his eye in the process.

His kisses start out soft, testing the waters, then gradually intensify. First a gentle brush against your mouth, then a playful bite on your lower lip. Soon he is slipping his tongue inside, breathing hard through his nose, and moving a hand to the back of your head.

If there had been even a tiny speck of resolve left in you before, it’s gone now. As soon as his lips are against yours, you give in. You will let him do anything to you without protest, you’re certain of that. And not just physically. You’re going to let him burrow into your brain again, pump your body full of dopamine and oxytocin, and start your addiction anew. You’re going to relapse hard and the withdrawal is going to suck.

But right before that…it’s going to feel so fucking good.

As he strips you of your clothes and your will power, you stand back and let him look at you. You know he likes this. He likes looking at your naked body, fully exposed for him and vulnerable. So, you’ll give it to him.

“Fuck…maybe I did miss you,” he says quietly as he takes you all in.

He starts to take off his jacket and pull his tie off, all while still looking you over. You can see what you couldn’t before; a splatter of blood on his white shirt. It’s not a lot, but it’s noticeable, and you know that it doesn’t belong to him. A normal person would be turned off by this. Sickened at the thought. But not you.

He sees you noticing, and he glances down at his shirt, and then back up at you. This isn’t the first time he’s shown up like this, wearing the evidence. And so, he knows. He knows your twisted little fantasies.

With his mouth twitching with arrogance, he steps closer to you again. His hands trail down your sides, and they are warm and familiar. He looks down at you while you bring your hands up to the spot on his shirt. It’s dried and has probably been there for a couple of hours now, having already turned a dark maroon color. With your bottom lip caught between your teeth, you start to unbutton his shirt.

“Blew his fucking head right off,” he says darkly, in the most fucked-up pre-game dirty talk in the history of the universe.

You let out a small whine, still working at his shirt. Your hands push greedily inside of it, pressing your palms onto the hard curves of his pecs, then running them over his tight shoulders.

“With that same gun?” you ask without looking up.

“Yes.”

“Mmm…” you muse, resuming your undoing of buttons. “Did he beg for his life first?”

“Crying on his knees,” he tells you, and you’re not even sure if he’s telling the truth. He just knows what you want to hear.

His shirt is fully open now and you look up at him while your hands find his flat abdomen and his waistband again. You feel him grip harder into your sides and his breath is coming faster. You know what you’re feeling now isn’t the gun, and you press your palm over the front of his pants, watching his eyes close shut for a moment in response.

It didn’t take much for you to go from want to need to desperation, and you’re already dripping wet for him. You unbuckle his belt and open his pants much faster than you did his shirt. He’s fully hard and when your hand grazes over his cock he groans, digging his fingers even harder into your waist.

“How many shots?”

You’re already pulling him by his shirt collar with both hands, walking backwards and taking him with you as you ask. When you fall onto the couch, he answers while he positions himself over you.

“Two. Right to the fucking head.”

You free his cock from his pants in one quick movement, and then he’s pushing himself inside you as you cry out, clutching at his arms and throwing your head back.

You’ll never get tired of this euphoria. Of the sudden rush of endorphins when his dick slides in and he’s pumping into you. No one else does this to you. No one else makes you feel like you’re going insane. Like you’re shifting into another reality. He gives your outer thigh a swift smack and you raise your legs up higher, spreading them wide, just like he wants.

He’s holding himself up with his hands on the armrest behind your head, the muscles in his arms flexed and hard as he pounds into you. He’s not saying anything, not yet anyway, but the loud panting of his breath and rhythmic clinking of his belt buckle fills your ears. Your own moans grow louder by the second and you can see that smug look cross his face, because he knows he’s got you right where he wants you.

But, fuck, if that look doesn’t make him even hotter. Bastard.

You spy that dark red stain on his shirt again, and you picture the scene he described to you. When you turn your head, you can see the black pistol lying on the table, just a few feet from you. The same one that was used to splatter a man’s head all over the walls and the floor, and onto its owner.

You’re gasping his name and frantically grabbing at his body when he gives one more punishing thrust, making you come hard and loudly underneath him. The waves spread over your body and they don’t seem to stop; one after another as you buck into him. He’s soon to follow, stiffening against you with a low groan, emptying himself and filling you up until his body starts to relax. He tucks his face into the crook of your neck for just a moment and you feel his lips graze your skin before he moves off of you.

As you both lie sprawled on opposite ends of the couch, trying to slow your breathing, he eventually looks over. He smiles in that way that is somehow already resetting and rewetting your aching groin. You return it with your own hazy smile; too high and fucked-out to pretend not to care.

He pushes his hair off his face with his hand, shoving his dick back in his pants, and leans toward you, kissing you with a gentle hand on your cheek. You hate when he’s soft like this. It fucks with your mind even more than he already does. But your lips respond without hesitation and you melt into his hand.

“I really did miss you,” he tells you, pressing his forehead against yours.

You want to cry and push him away. It’s not fair! He’s enabling you and playing into your weakness. And even if you’re the one that had broken down and called, it’s still not fair. He knows it’s a sickness.

“I missed you, too,” you whisper, because you can’t self-sabotage yourself enough.

After another kiss, he pulls back and takes his unfinished drink off the table, settling into the couch while you get up to throw your panties back on. You tip back your own glass and empty the contents in one swallow, taking in the absurdly sexy image in front of you. He’s leaning casually back into the cushions, his pants still unbuttoned and unzipped; white dress shirt fully open and untucked; messy dark hair falling across his forehead.

It would be so satisfying to kick him out right now. But Jesus fucking Christ, just look at him!

Instead, you give in like you always do and join him, resting your head on his chest with one hand on his bare stomach, your legs curled up next to you. He strokes your hair and kisses the top of your head while you sigh, letting your body relax into his.

He won’t be leaving yet, that’s not his game. He likes the companionship and your adoration. He’ll stay through most of the night, while you both talk and have a few more drinks. He’ll fuck you again in the shower, while you cling to his body and he pounds you into the cold, slippery tiles. He’ll fuck you in your bed, slowly and lazily, covering your body in soft kisses that will make you weak and forgetful.

He’ll make you come a few more times, leaving you gasping for air with his cum dripping out of you and your thighs burning. Your sheets will smell like him for days because you won’t be able to bring yourself to change them.

In the dark, he'll tell you more things you want to hear. I missed you. You’re so beautiful. I want you. I need you. He’s not cruel and he’s not a liar. He means the things he says. But that doesn’t mean he’ll stay. He never will, and you know it. The full reason for it, you’re not sure. Insecurities, trauma, secrets…so many secrets. No matter how many times you’ve poured your heart out, bathed him in reassurances, and cursed him until you were red in the face and crying. He will never stay.

You know what tomorrow and the next week or more will bring. The withdrawal symptoms will kick in and it will be hell. This won’t be cold sweats, shakes, and waves of nausea. It will be tears, self-hatred, and all-encompassing shame.

But he’s here now. And you drink in the scent of him. Sweat, sex, bourbon. All mixed together and highlighted with a slight twinge of copper. It’s better than any upper or downer or anything else that can be cooked up in a lab. It’s fucking maddening and you can’t get enough.

“Thanks for coming over,” you say as you rub your cheek over his chest.

“Thanks for calling.”

“This is the last time, though, I mean it. I can’t keep doing this,” you lie.

“I know. This is the last time,” he lies in return.

He places another soft kiss to your temple, reaffirming what you already know. That he will be your ultimate down fall. Your rock bottom.

But damn, it’s going to feel so fucking good on the way down.

Link to my Master List

[scoobysnakz]

1950's greaser Miguel 😭 that's that

a/n: i had something like this in my drafts i was so happy omg 😭 also im so sorry this took so long i ended up falling down several rabbit holes around 50’s culture for no reason whatsoever. idk how to feel abt this it’s rushed and not proof read at all!!! so sorry for any dumb mistakes

warnings: none really except maybe threats of violence and very poorly written angst bc i just cant handle it.

everyone had warned you to watch out for guys like Miguel- the loud, cocky ones that only think with their dick. but you’ve never been one to listen, not to overbearing second cousins and patronising aunts, anyway.

your ignorance to their advice doesn’t do much, though, because as much as you pretend, they’re right. he knows he could have any girl he wants, all he’d have to do is flash her that signature smirk, maybe wrap one of his toned arms around her waist, and they’re putty in his hands.

so why would he give you- the gut-wrenchingly awkward waitress at the diner him and his friends flood after work- the time of day ?

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

It's a peacefully slow day at the diner, booths just as empty as the tip jar and the counter bell unrung.

This would be the perfect opportunity to relax, count the cars passing by and try to work out if you can afford takeout for tea, but you are stuck talking to some random guy.

He's sweet enough, fairly attractive, and a large tipper. Hopefully, things don't get too difficult.

"So then I said to my buddy, Clarence. Y’know Clarence, sweetheart? Comes here twice a week with his wife on Tuesdays and then comes on Saturdays with his… lady friend?"

You internally grimace at his words. Your smile falters slightly but you fight to keep that forced, hospitality smile plastered on your face.

If working at this grimy diner has taught you anything it's that people like him don't want to see a strand of emotion other than flattery at their crude compliments.

"That wasn't a rhetorical question, darling.”

Your gaze snaps back to him, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly.

“Do. You. Know. Clarence?" he sounds much gruffer now, more stern.

Panicked, you shake your head a quick no.

You do know Clarence and he is even more pushy than this guy, always taking a not-so-conspicuous glance at your chest, 'accidentally' groping your ass.

Somehow, he knows you're lying and his expression hardens. "Don't lie to me, m'kay? I asked you a simple question and all you have to do is answer it for me."

The way his words are so slow to pass through his thin, leathery lips makes your stomach form knots.

You glance around the diner but there's no one else there, the very few people who had been there left the moment he came in.

Is there something you don't know? You've been working here for just over a month and you thought you knew all the inside secrets, the customers to flirt with to get the big tip, who to give extra sugar too because they're too nervous to ask for it themselves, which families will clean up after themselves. Obviously not.

The sticky brown tables are lined with half-eaten meals and a few bills that people left behind before running off.

You can hear the stove humming lowly in the kitchen and the man's heavy breathing accompanying it.

"I don't know who Clarence is, sir." your tone matches his, harsh and unwilling. It's nine forty-five on a Saturday and all you want is five minutes of sleep. "So either order something or leave. It's company policy.” you pick up a creased piece of laminated paper that says pretty much what you did but in a much more formal narrative.

His face contorts into a snarl as he glares at you, lips curling and nostrils flaring in a way that immediately makes you regret your sudden surge of confidence.

"You're lucky I don't hit women," he mutters under his breath.

Those words alone are enough to make your skin crawl. It's a threat, a cleverly disguised one, but a threat all the same.

"I'll ask one more time, sweetie. Do you know Clarence?" his voice is painfully condescending. Under different circumstances you would have chewed his ear off.

Before you get a chance to snap back at him the bell chimes as someone else enters the diner. You thank God, and whoever else is up there with him, that you are no longer alone.

It's a regular- Peter. You flash an uneasy smile, willing him to get the hint.

His mousy brown hair hangs flat on his head, a few strands wrapped around his daughter's pudgy fingers. Lazily, he turns to face you, eyes narrowing as he takes in your nervous expression.

“Everything alright?” he asks.

The man scoffs and rolls his eyes. “We're fine, get your coffee and go.”

It takes him a second, round brown eyes darting between the two of you before he sucks in a sharp breath and nods his head.

Peter knows he isn't intimidating, painfully the opposite. It’s almost impossible for him to come across as anything other than naïvely friendly… perhaps a little agitating, though. There's never a moment where a charismatic grin isn't etched into his thin, rosy lips or an awkward joke said to ease the tension. According to him, it’s his Achilles heel.

Hurriedly, he excuses himself and Mayday and pushes his chair away from the counter before stumbling out the door. Your eye twitches with slight irritation but you push past it; there’s no point staying angry with Peter when he didn't have any obligation to ‘save’ you.

Smirking, the man looks at you. It’s just the two of you now.

You know you shouldn't have begged to take the closing shift alone. You had assumed you’d keep all the tips, get to clean up with whatever music you like playing and have some downtime before trudging through the busy New York streets. And now you know how idiotic it was to think that.

“Hey, bebita.” the shrill sound of the bell doesn't do anything to dampen obnoxiously loud entrance.

You drag your gaze over to the source of the tall shadow that’s blanketing the top of the sticky, wooden counter. It takes you no time at all to recognise that sturdy build and dark heap of slicked-back curls.

Your eyes scrunch as your lips utter a silent thank you to God for freeing you from the burden of this creep and a little less grateful plea to get rid of Miguel as soon as possible.

Don't get it wrong, you couldn't be happier someone has come to rescue you from whoever this balding weirdo is but you might be a little more giddy with glee if it wasn't Miguel. It’s not that he's a bad guy or anything but things can get a little tense between people when one of them stands the other one up.

Miguel slides onto one of the stools next to the man, who is now looking considerably less confident now that there's a 6’9 man sitting next to him.

“Can I get a coffee, please,” he orders with an awkward curve of his lips that doesn't quite form a smile.

“She’s busy right now, might want to go someplace else, lad,” the stranger says with a nod towards the door, almost trying to act pally with Miguel. But he knows better than that- surely.

You can see Miguel’s jaw tensing from the corner of your eye but you brush past it, finding amusement in his irritation.

“You know how I like it, black, no sugar,” he says before turning his attention back to the man.

You make your way down to the other end of the counter where the coffee pot sits, encompassed by splodgy brown rings stained into the wood. You wonder how long you can stay down here, how many excuses you can come up with before one of them grows weary and snaps.

The wash cloth is still damp, you know it is because you wiped everywhere down at least fifty times whilst waiting for your unwanted visitor to leave. You begin to scrub the battered wood again, trying in vain to remove the surplus of coffee stains that you know won’t budge.

It’s not even late and you’re exhausted. Just the thought of getting on the train has your eyes growing heavy and shoulders sagging. And now, you have to deal with two of the most irritating people to exist.

“Hurry up with his coffee, we have things to talk about!”

You whip your head around, eyes narrowed with spite and lips parted to spew whatever crude insult spills out first but Miguel beats you to it.

“What?” he scoffs.

“She’s taking forever, acting like we have all the time in the fucking world!”

Without any hesitation, Miguel is up, towering over the balding reprobate. His expression is calm, surprisingly, but the slight clench of his jaw can't hide from your watchful gaze. You’re tempted to intervene, cautious of the mess Miguel’s infamous outbursts leave behind, but this loathsome man getting put in his place is more than worth it.

“Apologise.”

The man swallows, yellowing eyes widened with panic. On his own, the man is intimidating. He’s taller than you and it’s easy to tell he works out but he's no Miguel. Side by side, he looks like an influenza-ridden Victorian child whilst Miguel continues to stand proud, attracting all attention like a pompous black hole.

His chapped lips move but no intelligible words come out, just a serious of worthless splutters and squeaks.

Miguel rolls his eyes. “Apologise to the lady. Now.”

Only silence follows. Silence so soft and crisp you swear you can hear the snowflakes falling on the dirtied pavements outside before they instantly melt away. That’ll be fun walking home in.

“Por dios,” Miguel groans, “You have one last chance, tell her you’re sorry or I’m dragging you out and telling everyone how much of an uneducados, baboso bastardo you are!”

“I-i only understood bastardo,” the man stammers and you just about manage to muffle the chuckle that bubbles in your chest.

“Getting kicked out it is,” Miguel sighs.

You watch through amused eyes as Miguel grabs him by his tattered collar and drags him towards the door. The man continues to protest this, blabbering about how he's more than happy to apologise and that he has friends in high-up places who won't be pleased to hear about this, but Miguel doesn't care.

He chucks him out into the street and you don't even have to see his face to know he’s smirking as the idiot lands flat on his ass because you are too.

The bell chimes his entrance once again, a proud grin on his face as he saunters towards you.

“So?” he questions expectantly.

Pushing past your amusement, you shrug your shoulders.

“I just kicked out some dick head for you and you’re not gonna say anything?”

“He didn't get a chance to pay, so you’re gonna have to cover it.” you flash him a sarcastic smile before picking up the tip jar and pushing it towards him, “and tip.”

His eyes narrow before he pulls out his wallet and behind to leaf through a series of wrinkled tens and twenties before pulling out a fifty. “Treat yourself.”

Again, you offer a forced smile before taking the jar away and opening the register to change the fifty for five tens. Your ears perk at the sound of his exasperated sigh, the corner of your mouth twitching into a grin at his irritation.

“You are so petty you know that, hermosa?”

You slam the register shut, mettle blooming in your chest at the dumbfounded expression on Miguel’s face.

You remain unblinking as you glare at him, not a slither of emotion is present on your face other than pure unbridled spite. You’ve never been able to wrap your head around his confidence. Sure, he's conventionally attractive and can tell you how the reason you never see stars at night isn't because of all the light pollution but because they know they’ll never compare to the grace of your smile or the dazzling beauty of your eyes all in Spanish. But is he really that amazing?

He pulls out a small metal tube from his pocket and pops it open. “Toothpick?” he offers, sliding one between his lips, “cherry flavoured.”

You keep staring disdainfully at him, expression unmoving.

“I’m starting to understand why he was in such a grump,” he mutters to himself, although his eyes are still carefully trained on you, “with service like this, any man would end up in a funk like that.”

That does it. You slam your fists on the tacky counter with a furious groan. You’re so fucking tired, not one single person in this entire rat-filled city has manners, the last thing you need is some self-obsessed playboy messing with your emotions.

Palms stinging , you look back up at him. His eyes are slightly widened but he stays silent, slightly baffled by whatever just happened.

“Get out, Miguel.”

He scoffs and stays where he is, clearly not oblivious to how infuriating he is.

“I’m not joking. Get out.”

His expression falters slightly but again, he simply refuses to move.

“I am so tired of people walking all over me, not an ounce of courtesy or anything. I'm not letting you, of all people, treat me the same.”

Slowly, he stands up, pushing his toothpick holder into his inside pocket.

“Please,” your voice cracks as tears sting the corners of your eyes, “just get out.”

You don't wait to hear the door close before allowing yourself to crumple, head falling onto your folded arms on the counter while unwanted tears trail down your cheeks.

You can’t believe you just broke down that, completely unprovoked. Miguel didn't help but whatever just happened was… it was more than unnecessary it was just plain childishness. How could you have allowed yourself to get so worked up? Normally you’re so collected, and always know how to act, yet the second that cocky idiot is around your emotions run havoc.

Then, your nose breathes in that familiar cedar and menthol smell. Internally, you groan.

“Look, I’m sorry that was out of order,” he mutters.

You roll your eyes. It's all well and good being able to apologize for being a dick one time but when you're continuously being a douche the effect tends to wear off.

“How did you even get behind here?” you mumble into your arms.

Ignoring your question, he slowly wraps an arm around your waist. You jump, at first, but allow yourself to relax. It’s nice being held, even if it's awkwardly and by someone you detest.

“Let me walk you to your car.”

What a gentleman.

Sniffling, you lift your head and turn to face him. “I don't have a car, Miguel!” you croak out.

What could pass as either a pout or a thoughtful frown forms on his lips as he stares at you. Whatever it is, it reeks of sympathy that you didn't ask for.

“I’m sorry.”

“You’ve said that.”

“No. I’m sorry about before.”

You scoff. It’s like he refuses to listen to you on purpose.

He runs his fingers through his hair, a sigh pushing past his lips. “I’m sorry about not showing up.”

It takes a second or two before you get what he means. You raise your brow, taken aback by his sudden ability to take just enough responsibility to apologize but not enough to actually say what he did. It’s funny, in a way, that it took you having to yell at him and break down crying before it even clicked that he should apologize.

“It’s fine, you were a dick and I got over it.” you lie.

He scowls, clearly unimpressed by the lack of enthusiasm his apology earned him. He steps a little closer, fingers grazing against your middle. Instinctively, your stomach clenches at the contact but you don't move away.

“That’s… that’s fair.”

You hum in agreement but remain silent.

“Forgot how to speak?” his voice is smooth like velvet but you don't take the bait. You’ve been in this position before, Miguel holding you close, a sudden softness to his demeanour whilst he comforts you. And last time it ended with you crying into your pillow until you fell asleep.

His hand turns your face towards him, thumb tracing the outline of your lower lip. “Que niña tan linda,” he utters.

Your upper lip curls up in disgust and you push him away. You might be exhausted and emotionally distraught but that doesn't mean you don't have common sense.

Something, you’re not quite sure what, flickers across his expression as he bites down on his bottom lip.

Defensively, he holds his hands up and takes a dramatic step away. “Misread the room.”

You laugh. Again, it's not even a proper apology, just something to clear his conscious until he does something equally as idiotic. It would take a miracle for him to give a heartfelt, meaningful apology and you sincerely doubt any miracles are coming his way.

Another awkward silence fills the room. It's not like the one before, though, there’s no fear of death or ill-mannered slobs taking up all thinking space. Just you and Miguel, stood dangerously close while you cumbersomely sniffle away your tears.

You can feel it, Miguel’s intense gaze burning holes into the side of your face. He doesn't look away, just keeps staring at you, unblinking and unmoving.

“Bebita.” you allow yourself to look at him. The harsh, flickering yellow lights hang close to his head and burn the corners of your eyes. “I think you’re the most beautiful girl in the world.”

“If you thought so, I wouldn't have been left standing outside the movies for an hour in the rain waiting for you,” you mutter snidely.

Ditching his previous tactics for forgiveness, he groans. “I told you already, I was busy.”

Everyone had warned you to watch out for guys like Miguel- the loud, cocky ones that only think with their dick. But you’ve never been one to listen, not to overbearing second cousins and patronising aunts, anyway.

Your ignorance of their advice hadn’t done much, though, because as much as you’d pretended, they were right. He knows he could have any girl he wants, all he’d have to do is flash her that signature smirk, maybe wrap one of his toned arms around her waist, and they’re putty in his hands.

And you'd fallen for his flirtatious trap once before. Hook, line and sinker.

You force your gaze away, deciding eye contact with him isn't worth the optical damage that will surely present itself sooner or later.

“You have a house phone, could have called me or the diner, hell- Peter would have been happy to be your little messenger pigeon!” it all comes out at once, a toxic blur of anger and regret that has been burning in your chest since the moment he walked in tumbling out your mouth before you could get a chance to stop yourself. “You are the scum of the earth, Miguel. I hope you know that.”

He lets your words settle in the air, arm slowly retracting from your waist and coming to rest on the countertop. His lips are pursed into a tight line that hides all emotion but the remnants of a frown tug his brown eyes downwards.

“Peter had come out, before, telling me that some creep was in there bothering you.” he glances back down at you, waiting for something other than fury to be represented on your face only to realise his optimism was all in vain and continuing on. “And I thought… maybe if I sort this out for her, she’ll forgive me.”

“You trying to be a good person now doesn't make standing me up okay.” you pause, angling yourself to face him, a sudden wave of sympathy crashing over you at the sight of his shiny eyes. “I forgive you, for now.”

This time, he doesn't even try to hide the pleased smirk on his face. His obnoxiously sharp canines poke proudly over his bottom lip and that ridiculous cocky twinkle is back in his eyes. If he was a dog, his tail would be wagging to no end.

“Does this mean we’re friends now?”

You scrunch your nose and shake your head. “I can't be friends with someone who tips with a fifty, it’s too ironic and tacky.”

He clutches his chest in feigned offence before a low chuckle rumbles from deep within his chest.

You aren't too sure what you are, in all honesty. The two of you had started off as acquaintances, which led to a strange friendship which had snowballed into him kissing you in the kitchen after closing hours before he stood you up on your first proper date. And now you’re both here, laughing even though you’re certain you wanted him dead almost a minute ago.

“Can I try again, then? I want to get it right.”

You shrug, you only live once.

[errihaienx]

sypnosis : you, a renowned journalist, once Atsumu's lover, are assigned to interview his team, MSBY Black Jackals, in the V League. amidst the echoes of your past romance and the intensity of the game, emotions flare as you navigate the thin line between professional duty and unresolved feelings. as questions linger and the court holds its breath, you must confront the love you left behind on the court of your shared history.

disclaimer : just to clarify, the storylines of the fics and the original meaning of the songs may not match up. each fic was crafted based on specific lyrics. for instance, 'reminder' by the weeknd is about him 'reminding' listeners of his identity and successes as a pop/R&B artist. however, in this fic, it's focused on an ex reminding you of their presence, highlighting your shared history with them.

Eyes scanning the email that had just arrived, you found yourself fixated on one particular line, unable to fully process the rest of its contents.

"Am I seeing this right?" you muttered to yourself, struggling to grasp the reality that you were being tasked with interviewing the MSBY Black Jackals for their upcoming match against EJP Raijin.

The weight of the assignment was not lost on you; both teams were immensely popular, and this opportunity could significantly boost your career and benefit the broadcasting company you represented. Yet, amidst the professional excitement, something stirred deep within your heart—a feeling long forgotten, ignited by someone from your past.

With closed eyes, you drew a deep breath, torn between accepting this golden opportunity and the memories that now flooded your mind. You were still carving your path in the media broadcasting industry, and this interview could be the breakthrough you had been striving for.

You tried to push away the distracting thoughts of the past, but they persisted, vivid flashes of moments shared with a smiling Atsumu dominating your mind. A bitter smile crossed your lips; this was merely work, a job that demanded professionalism above personal sentiment. Journalists couldn't afford to skip assignments due to old feelings.

Finally deciding to accept the job, your hands trembled slightly as you typed out a response to the email.

It had been years, and the likelihood that he would remember you seemed slim. Perhaps he would shrug off the past, considering his current fame and influence, or maybe he wouldn't even recall you at all. It was foolish to believe that Miya Atsumu, the volleyball star, still carried any remnants of a heartbreak from his high school days.

That thought lingered, engraved in your mind—that he wouldn't remember, or if he did, that it wouldn't matter to him. He wouldn't care about his ex, the one who ended things during his final year as a third-year student.

You knew you had made a mistake. Atsumu had been a devoted boyfriend, loyal and kind, giving you more love and affection than you had ever dared to hope for. Yet, despite all that, you couldn't say you regretted the breakup. You had always understood his passion for volleyball, knowing it was his calling. You convinced yourself that ending the relationship was for the best, a decision made to allow him to focus on his dreams.

A tear escaped, quickly wiped away. The internal debate had been exhausting, keeping you up all night after receiving that email.

Reaching for your phone, you contacted a close friend.

"What the actual fucking fuck?! Are you fucking for real now!? "

"Yeah… so I accepted it…" you replied, your voice barely above a whisper, recounting the job you had been assigned.

" Fuck, that's unexpected,"

You nodded in agreement, feeling the weight of this unexpected turn of events.

"Well, don't be too bothered by it. There's only a 1 out of 10 chance you'll end up interviewing him. There are like ten people on that team, and Atsumu has a reputation for skipping interviews if he's not in the mood. "

Nodding along, you felt a semblance of relief. Amidst all the focus on Atsumu, you had momentarily forgotten that he was just one member of a larger team.

"However, if fate has it out for you and you do end up face-to-face with Atsumu for an interview, just think of it like a chat with your ex."

Your face twisted in discomfort at the thought, watching as your hopes seemed to evaporate. Your friend rambled on a bit more before ending the call, citing her late-night date with her boyfriend as the reason.

Exhausted, you collapsed onto your bed, shrugging off the swirling thoughts. You needed to act like you didn't know him, to focus on the task at hand. You had two weeks to prepare, a seemingly ample amount of time for a mere interview.

In two weeks' time, you vowed to do your best to forget about him. As your eyes drifted shut, sleep enveloped you, and you ventured into the realm of dreams.

• two weeks later...

Sweat dampened your palms as you flipped through the crumpled scripts, the two weeks leading up to this moment feeling like a whirlwind. What was supposed to be a slow, preparatory period had raced by, leaving you on the brink of losing your composure.

Now, mere minutes away from your interview with the MSBY Black Jackals, the clamor of loud cheers and the clicking of camera shutters filled the vast volleyball stadium where you stood.

"Don't let the pressure get to you! You've interviewed bigger stars before; this should be a walk in the park," a staff member from your company reassured you.

A smile tugged at your lips, finding some comfort in their words.

"You've got this. Just stick to what you've rehearsed over the past two weeks," you murmured to yourself, drawing from the intense preparation you had put in, a departure from your usual approach to interviews.

Taking a moment to collect your thoughts, you took a sip of water. The deafening roar of the crowd reached its peak, causing you to flinch. Could this be it?

"Shit!" you cursed under your breath as you caught sight of the imposing figures of the MSBY Black Jackals, their silhouettes commanding the space.

Composing yourself, you braced for the inevitable. You knew the drill. Your gaze met first with the familiar form of Bokuto Kotaro, striding confidently towards the media area. You dared not let your eyes wander further; it was dangerous, far too dangerous.

But it seemed danger had a penchant for seeking you out. With eyes as cold as ice and a physique that demanded attention, Miya Atsumu fixed his gaze on you. As your eyes met his, he arched a brow, a smirk playing at his lips as he scanned you from head to toe.

This was unexpected, catching you off guard. Yet, you reminded yourself to stay resolute. You were here for the interview, and nothing would shake that resolve. A member of the MSBY management approached, handing you a paper.

"I apologize, Miss (name), but we can only spare 15 minutes for this interview. However, we have scheduled an off-camera interview with the team," they informed you.

You nodded, forcing a smile at your lips. Fifteen minutes was more than enough. You need to get this work done immediately anyways.

"U-umm…"

"Yes? Is there something else?" you asked, sensing the nervousness in their stutter. Remembering your own early days of stumbling over words, you made an effort to be understanding.

"Y-you're so pretty in person, Miss," the staff member blurted out before quickly turning away.

A laugh escaped you at their candidness, finding it endearing. It helped ease some of the tension, bolstering your confidence for the impending interview.

But of course, just when you thought the danger had passed, there he was—Miya Atsumu, heading towards you with that familiar smirk.

ah, here it is the danger.

• twenty three minutes later...

With trembling hands, you tried to compose yourself after that disastrous interview with Atsumu. In the taxi, tears threatened to fall as the film of the interview played in your mind. You found out that he had volunteered to handle the media and they found it amusing, considering it was out of character for him. Taking deep breaths, you watched your interview with him, grateful that you had at least managed to maintain your composure as you had rehearsed. If you hadn't known yourself and watched this, you would have never guessed you were once exes based on the interview.

Just as you thought you had survived the danger, it came back for you. After the interview, another journalist from a different company asked Atsumu why he had taken the lead in presenting himself to the media.

"I feel comfortable with (name)! I guess that's the reason," he replied casually.

"Oh, you mean, Miss (name), the one that interviewed you earlier?"

"Yeah, we knew each other…" he smiled, a glint of pain visible in his eyes.

The aftermath was a flood of texts, emails, and calls from your coworkers after they saw the clip. Frustrated and anxious, you personally emailed Atsumu's management requesting a meeting to ask him not to mention anything about your past again. His management agreed, asking to sign some documents first before scheduling your off camera interview with MSBY. You had thought that a staff member would be handing the paper works to you but, to your surprise, it was Atsumu himself who showed up.

and now here he stands, in a tight red button-up shirt, with a familiar dogtag hanging from his neck.

"You're a renowned journalist now…" his voice was soft, as if he was yearning.

You straighten your posture, making the best efforts to make this as professional as it should be.

"Please, let's get to the point…"

"I'm so proud of ya…" His lips quivered, you're just so....so pretty that he would die.

"Stop skirting the issue and stick to what's relevant." you replied coldly, but your hands are trembling.

he smirked, the previous yearning dissipated like it was never been there.

"Ahuh? why're you tryin' so hard to act like we didn't have somethin' before, hmm?"

"Why are you doing this…"

"I am just remindin' ya, (name), you know me."

He reached for the script from you and scanned the first page; the first part of this interview was about the player's introduction. In his opinion, you should have simply introduced him because you know him so well, you've seen everything, explored his mouth, and screamed his name.

"Are you forgettin' things now? Then let me remind you. Startin' with my name, I am Atsumu Miya."

"I know that you are the A-atsumu Miya.."

"Oh, didn't even stutter while sayin' my surname. I mean, of course, ya once asked me to give ya that, right?" he continued, flipping through the script. After the introduction of names, it stated that the interviewer should ask about Atsumu's relationships, so he decided to answer himself.

"Fer my relationships, I had a few flings before entering a serious one in my late second year. My relationship with that girl was so great… so amazin' that I kinda want to experience it again."

You shivered, feeling the weight of his words.

"But unfortunately, she broke up with me during a tournament match. Oh, why did ya flinch? That situation rings a bell, huh?" he smirked.

"'Tsumu…" you called out to him, and he was stunned.

"Quit it, please… I am truly sorry for my selfish acts. I know I couldn't make it up to you after all these years, but you are very successful now…"

your eyes were warm, you should not cry this is an interview, right?

"You could do something to make it up if you want to—"

"Please stop… Our breakup probably was the reason you're successful now! Right! You can't deny that. If we didn't break up, I could have been a burden, and maybe you wouldn't have reached your dreams, so please let's not—" you pleaded, desperate to end this conversation, but he cut you off.

"If we didn't break up, I could've won that match and become successful way sooner," he said with a stern voice and hurt yearning eyes.

"What do you want…" you whispered

"I am just—" he trailed off, trying to compose himself first.

"I am just reminding you that you know me. I can't bear the fact that I am the one who was left, but why am I the one who's restless about it? How can you act like you never loved me?"

"It's not like that, I am just trying to forget things—"

"Forget everythin' but not me."

he reached for your trembling hands, closing his eyes before kissing it.

"Please, not me…"

"Even if I have ta remind ya over and over again, I'll do it. Jus' don't forget about me. About us…"

He kissed your ring finger once more after carefully touching each one of your fingers. You should be aware that he hasn't changed and is still completely smitten.

"It was always you, baby. Can we—no, we will try again. You ain't forgettin' me."

You were left stunned, the weight of his words sinking in. The air crackled with unresolved emotions, the past colliding with the present. Atsumu Miya, the boy you once loved, stood before you, asking for another chance.

more about this series : TO BE POSTED! ( please check the link later ^^ )

up next : ????