#society 6 shop

[unrestrainedbalderdash]

Think it's absolute bollocks that the baskets at the local ASDA are before gates where it then says "no entry" so you can't go back and get a basket if you forget

[travelbasscase]

like. i can barely find women's jeans that fit. and you think looking in the men's section, yknow where the clothes typically aren't cut with a body shape even close to mine in mind, would be better? i want pockets that aren't tiny or (worse) sewn shut, but pants falling off isn't worth that. if i go to the men's section, most pants would be hanging off of me.

we just want clothes that function

i hate when someone says "clothes marketed to women are less practical/don't have pockets/are too revealing in general" and everyone just tells them to buy clothes from the men's section bc like don't you think women deserve to have wearable clothing made for us. also some of us have body types that make shopping in the men's section impractical AND some of us may want to wear things with aesthetic attributes that you can't find in the men's section but still want to be comfortable and not have our clothes disintegrate after three washes

[takunwilliams]

Technodrome1 art prints and apparel on society 6 

please support my new shop 

and let me know what you might want to see next in the  shop !

[igbylicious]

whichever way [woosan x reader] pt14

pairing: woosan x f reader

rating: 18+

genre: smut, fluff-ish, neighbours au, FWB to QPR

ch. summary: You and Wooyoung do a little online shopping for a good cause.

wc: 9.3k

ch. warnings: sub Wooyoung, dom San & reader, pegging, anal fingering / sex (Woo receiving), blowjobs, cumming untouched, hairpulling, dirty talk, degradation kink, dacryphilia (ofc), orgasm control, multiple orgasms, light spanking, Woo gets spitroasted — but first he sucks the strap uwu, petnames (‘cockslut’, ‘babygirl’, ‘good boy’ for Wooyoung, ‘baby’ for reader)

a/n: features a soft-bodied, aromantic reader who uses she/her pronouns.

a/n²: only the epilogue left 〒▽〒 don’t touch me i’m emotional 〒▽〒

masterlist. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, epilogue

The sky is already darkening by the time San gets back to the apartment building after his late afternoon gym visit, and a crisp smell hangs in the air from an autumn shower that recently passed by. It’s invigorating, keeping San bright and alert despite the satisfying ache in his body from his post-workout exhaustion.

He picks up the mail on his way back; including yours, of course. His key chain has been a little heavier for some time now, but he likes the weight and jingle of it in his hand.

San sifts through the mail as he waits for the elevator to come down. It takes a bit longer than usual, but finally the door opens with its familiar ‘ding’ — revealing one of San’s neighbours inside.

Mrs Yoon.

“Oh! Hi, Mrs Yoon,” San says awkwardly, standing aside to let her through. He tries not to think about the last time he talked to the old lady, which only makes him think about it harder, an embarrassed heat burning under his skin.

Mrs Yoon gives him a crinkled smile as she steps out the elevator. “Hello, young man,” she politely greets him back, but there is a cheeky glint in her eyes.

San’s skin burns hotter, and can’t decide if it’s a mercy or a torment that she doesn’t acknowledge their previous conversation, leaving it all unspoken between them. Instead she simply wishes San a pleasant evening and starts to walk past him, going about her business without embarrassing him any further.

She probably intends for it to be a mercy — but something nags at San as Mrs Yoon leaves, and he realises he can’t let her go just yet.

“Ah, Mrs Yoon, could you wait a moment? Please?” he asks. “There is something I’d like to talk about.”

She stops her little shuffle towards the exit, blinking at San in surprise. “Of course, dear. What’s on your mind?”

What’s on his mind? You. You are.

Specifically, the jaded resignation on your face when you’d brushed off San’s concern about Mrs Yoon’s boyfriend-comment; when you told him you’re used to it.

He doesn’t like that. He doesn’t like that you need apathy to shield yourself from a world that’s oblivious to your lived experience at best, and at worst believes it’s something to be fixed. San isn’t naive; he knows he can’t take away society’s constant pressure for romantic attachment by himself. But there is something he can do right here and now.

Maybe today, he can be your shield instead.

“Um, Mrs Yoon, when we ran across you the other day… I just wanted to say, she’s not my girlfriend,” San says with calm warmth, a friendly smile on his face. Making it clear as politely as possible that he’s not starting a discussion, just stating a fact.

Mrs Yoon blinks at him in confusion, but then she breaks out in a smile of her own, filled with misplaced understanding.

“Ahhh, I see! And the other young man, he is not your boyfriend then, hm?” she grins slyly, like she’s in on some covert plot of secrecy. “I got it, your secret is safe with me. Though if I can give a piece of advice; a little more discretion wouldn’t hurt if you want to keep it a secret for much longer! If an old biddy like me has figured it out, then I can’t be the only one.”

San sighs a weary chuckle at the further misunderstanding. “No, no there’s no secrets. Wooyoung is my boyfriend,” he says, and Mrs Yoon’s confusion comes back tenfold. “But it’s different with her. We’re… We are friends. Really close friends. She’s very important to me.”

Something softens in Mrs Yoon’s face at San’s simple earnestness. She scratches her chin as she mulls it over, but eventually comes to a decision with a firm nod. “Hmm, well. Nothing wrong with that either, I suppose. Just as long as you three treat each other right.”

The safe politeness in San’s smile melts away, making way for honest happiness. “We do, Mrs. Yoon. Always.”

Grinning, she reaches up to suddenly pinch his cheek. San lets out a tiny ack, more out of surprise than pain, though her grip is surprisingly strong. “Now that I know,” she winks cheekily, then releases him. “Have a nice evening together, young man. She’s very lucky to have a good friend like you.”

Ah, and there Mrs Yoon gets it wrong again. “No, I’m the lucky one here, I reckon,” San grins. She shakes her head with a little reedy laugh, like his answer is exactly what she expected from him.

With that, San parts ways with Mrs Yoon and takes the elevator to the top floor. To you and Wooyoung.

San finds his and Wooyoung’s apartment empty when he drops off his bag — though honestly, he’s stopped thinking of the two spaces as ‘yours’ and ‘theirs’. So he gives Byeol a sweet little kiss on the top of her sweet little head, then goes over next-door without too much thought. Some days San enjoys a bit of alone time, but this is not one of them.

No, San can’t wait to curl up on the couch against one or two of his favourite people, maybe order in some food today so the time can be spent just lazing around in each others’ company.

When he opens the door to your apartment (strictly legally speaking), San hears an animated conversation happening. He perks up in curiosity, heading in closer to make out the words of what seems to be a lively discussion.

He finds you and Wooyoung on the couch, scrolling through something on your phone.

“Oohh, this looks pretty! And affordable too,” you say, looking to Wooyoung for his agreement — until you spot San and give him a little wave. “Hey, welcome back! Had a good workout?”

“Yeah, real good,” San says, a fond smile crinkling his eyes. Sounds like you and Wooyoung are looking at apartment listings again; something that started out as just fun and casual, building little fantasies around the possibilities, but the search is slowly growing more intentional.

But Wooyoung makes a face at your phone screen, shaking his head. “Too small,” he says decisively. “Ah, San! San! Good, you’re here, you can settle this for us!”

“Sure, lay it on me,” San says, naively assuming it’s about one of the listings. Then again, the way you immediately roll your eyes in exasperation…

“Seriously, Woo? You’re still on that?”

Wooyoung ignores you, turning to San with grim determination. “San. Tell her that if I don’t get to fuck other people, then she doesn’t get to either! A closed relationship, that’s what we agreed on.”

“That’s what you agreed on. You and San. I never agreed to any such thing.”

San blinks in baffled confusion. What? “Wait, you want to sleep with others? You barely have the stamina to keep up with us,” he blurts out, unable to fully process the idea that you’d want to open the relationship up.

“Hey,” you pout.

“What, ‘hey’?” he chuckles. “You’re the one who blamed us for that UTI because we are, and I quote, ‘horny demons who thrive on obliterating your poor bladder’s bacterial ecosystem’. Seriously, since when are you looking for more?”

“I’m not! Woo is just making drama over nothing!” you sigh, shooting Wooyoung some heavy side-eye. “I only pointed out that because we kinda winged this whole throuple situation, that technically we never made any rules about me and any hypothetical interest I might have.” Your side-eye deepens at the last part.

“Right,” Wooyoung says, returning your side-eye in equal force. “Hypothetical. Because you totally didn’t bring that up out of nowhere after sniffing around for gossip on San and Yunho’s past… activities.”

Yunho?! Since when is he on your radar?

It throws you too; your side-eye breaks as you look at Wooyoung in surprise. “That’s what this is about? Because I asked about him?” You let out a small, endeared giggle at Wooyoung’s jealous streak. “Woo, I’m just curious about the guy, is all! I finally get to meet him in person next week, I’ve only heard him on voice chat when you guys play that Mile of Mythologies thing together.”

“League of Legends!” San and Wooyoung protest simultaneously like clock-work.

“Yeah yeah,” you grin. “So, can we stop throwing a fuss over nothing or picking on me for having a delicate bladder?”

“Hey, I’m not picking on you for that. Honestly, all things considered it’s kind of a miracle you only got a UTI once. You got a toughie in there!” Wooyoung points out, grinning as he pats your lower stomach.

“Thank you! Now let’s go back to the important things in life, shall we?” You raise up your phone back up to go look at apartment listings again. Or so San thinks, at least.

(Somewhere in the back of his head, San vaguely notes that technically, you still haven’t agreed on a damn thing about the sleeping-with-other-people thing. Not that Wooyoung’s objections were needed; you don’t seem to actually have any serious considerations about Yunho, or anyone else. Well, and even if you did…

San smiles absent-mindedly. It’s not like he has bad memories of those past ‘activities’ with Yunho. The direct opposite, in fact. The idea of teaming up on you or Wooyoung… Wait, what? Hold on, where did that thought come from?)

“You really don’t like this one, Woo?” you ask Wooyoung, tilting the screen to him, completely unaware of the newly sparked scenarios inside San’s head.

“I told you, it’s too small!”

San shakes off whatever the hell is going on with his imagination, and focuses on his curiosity about this apartment. It must be real nice if you’re so set on the place, even if Wooyoung disagrees.

“This is too small?? Damn Woo, never knew you’re that much of a size queen.”

San frowns. Size queen? Again; what?

“Hey, who can blame me? I’ve gotten used to a certain… stretch,” Wooyoung says, a bold grin spreading over his face.

A stretch??? …Okay, maybe San needs to re-examine his assumptions about what you and Wooyoung are looking at.

“God you’re nasty,” you sigh in exasperation, but there’s a laugh hidden in there too. “Fine, fine, let’s see what else they got.”

San has finally reached you, standing behind the couch to look over your shoulder at the screen. His eyes widen as the veil of confusion lifts away, a surprised flush hitting his cheeks.

No, those are not apartment listings on your screen.

Those are sex toys.

Specifically, you and Wooyoung are looking at strap-ons.

“How about this kit?” Wooyoung asks, gesturing at the next one you scrolled to. “That looks promising.”

At first, your face lights up with interest, but it is quickly replaced by a grimace when you notice the cost. “Looks good but… might be a tiny bit out of my price range.”

“Our price range,” Wooyoung counters firmly. “Think of it as an investment for the future! What do you think, Sannie?”

“Um,” is the most eloquence response San can muster at this moment.

“Look look, it even comes with a few different dildos, see! And the harness is backless too,” Wooyoung says, eyebrows wiggling as he zooms in on one of the images.

The picture shows the back-view of a model wearing the harness, held into place by a supple-looking leather waistband and two elegant black straps wrapped around the upper thighs, snugly fitted just below the model’s completely exposed ass.

“…How’s the size? Is it adjustable?” you ask, not entirely convinced yet but slowly swayed by Wooyoung’s sales pitch.

San feels a heat crawl up to his face, and tugs at the neckline of his shirt as unbidden images float up in his mind of your ass in that harness. No, San definitely needs no further swaying. Fuck, his imagination sure is working overtime today. He’ll pay the whole damn thing out of his own pocket if the money is really a concern to you.

You nose through the product specifications, your face brightening at what you find. After that, it’s not long before the kit finds itself dropped into your shopping cart.

“Three days?” Wooyoung groans when he sees the shipping date, falling back into the couch miserably. “How am I supposed to wait that long?”

“Aw, you poor thing,” you coo teasingly, patting Wooyoung’s hair. “What a trial. What a tribulation.”

San grins when Wooyoung scoffs and grabs for your hand to get a bite in on your forearm. You yelp, unsuccessfully trying to fend him off. San lets the chaos entertain him for a moment, then he gently untangles you both. “Woo, I’m sure we can find a way to make the time go by faster,” he chuckles. “Like… how about you take a few days to think about what you’d like to happen once it’s here?”

Like magic, Wooyoung’s face instantly shifts to a thoughtful expression. “Well,” he says, tapping his bottom lip, “I do have a few ideas…”

Never one to be timid about his ideas, you naturally know the deepest, most intimate and depraved depths of Wooyoung’s fantasies by the time you have him on your knees in front of you.

You don’t need to see the hunger in his eyes as he stares up at you to know badly he wants this; don’t need to hear the breathless inhale when your fingers tangle into his hair, how his tongue eagerly darts out to wet his lips when you tug him forward — pushing the tip of your strap right against those plump lips.

Because you already know that is exactly what Wooyoung wants. To take your cock down his throat and choke on it.

The weight of the black, silicone dildo hanging between your legs is unfamiliar, a little awkward even, but the harness is more comfortable than you expected.

You’d stayed a bit concerned about the fit until the discreetly packaged arrived, but after fiddling with some adjustments you could breathe easily. The leather now sits perfectly around your waist, and the black straps don’t dig painfully into your thighs like you’d feared, instead framing your ass in a way that must be extremely flattering to say the least — if the way San’s eyes keep trailing back to them is anything to go by.

However, for now San’s gaze is fixed on Wooyoung.

San sits on the edge of the bed, legs spread lazily and leaned back with his hands resting on the mattress, making no effort to touch Wooyoung even though he is within arm’s reach. Head slightly tilted, he watches intently how Wooyoung’s lips part as the silicone cock is pushed past them.

Wooyoung wastes no time, sinking down with a muffled groan. Messily he sucks and laps at the strap, low moans and wet noises drifting upward. You let out a blissful sigh at the view, his pretty lips stretched around your cock. He blinks up at you as he somehow manages to grin even with his mouth stuffed, his dark eyes shiny with impatience and need.

“Little more, Woo. I know you can give me more,” you hum, running your hand through his hair. “Show me how hungry you are for my cock before I fuck you with it.”

“Mmh—”

Wooyoung eagerly follows your lead when you guide his head up and down, taking you deeper and deeper with minimal encouragement. He never holds back, treating your strap like it’s a real cock; and through his pure unbridled enthusiasm, you sink away into the illusion.

Your breaths grow heavier whenever Wooyoung pulls back to suckle indulgently at the tip, thick wet swipes of his tongue as he groans, his eyes fluttering shut every time you pull his hair to force your length down his throat again. Every pass of his mouth rubs the silicone dick’s rounded base against your cunt, and its strategically placed protrusion sends sparks through your core.

You start to roll your hips into him, chasing those sparks as Wooyoung’s head bobs to meet your shallow thrusts. It’s not long before he gags around you with an obscene gurgle, a thin trail of drool escaping past the corner of his lips. Instinctively you freeze, but Wooyoung shakes his head and whines. His cheeks are flushed, a watery gleam brimming in his eyes as he stares up at you, wordlessly begging you to keep fucking his throat.

“Aw, he’s tearing up already,” San chuckles, leaning forward so he can grasp Wooyoung’s chin. “Looks so pretty with cock between his lips, doesn’t he? That smart mouth stuffed full, working so hard to please you.”

Wooyoung lets out another whine at San’s praise, only more worked up by the edge of condescension in his voice.

“Sweet babygirl,” you grin fondly. “Come, make Sannie feel good too. Can you do that for me?”

Wooyoung makes a noise, immediately reaching for San, who guides Wooyoung’s hand to wrap around his cock. He groans lowly, his back arching ever so slightly at Wooyoung’s practised strokes.

“Good boy,” San sighs, a lazy smile on his lips. “Now, get back to sucking that cock properly, hm? Wanna see you choke on it.”

Wooyoung moans loudly, more drool spilling down his chin. He keens when you pull his hair a little harder; it’s all the reminder he needs to go back to gagging around your cock, meeting the roll of your hips as you fuck his face. He breaths harshly through his nose, struggling to control his breathing but never slowing down, taking your strap down his throat like a champ without ever neglecting San.

San’s chest is starting to heave as Wooyoung jerks him off, lips parted and eyes heavy-lidded. His low whine sears through you, as does the sight of his large hand leading Wooyoung’s to pump his leaking cock. Wooyoung revels in how he’s being used, teary eyes drifting shut as he fades away into a cockdrunk haze.

“San?” you say in a strained voice, more affected by the strap’s base gentle rubbing against your clit than you expected. (Or maybe the growing pressure in your core has more to do with Wooyoung, with seeing him like this.) “I think it’s time.”

Wooyoung’s eyes peek open at the sound of your voice, shimmering wetly with unshed tears. (…Yep, that definitely helps.)

“Yeah, it’s time,” San agrees, his voice equally strained.

He guides Wooyoung’s hand down to the base of his cock, to give it a squeeze just to take the edge off. Then he moves to kneel behind Wooyoung, who almost sobs in anticipation when San grabs two handfuls of his plump ass, spreading the cheeks apart.

Wooyoung whimpers around your cock, his hands grasping at your thighs for something to anchor him while San removes a modestly-sized plug that was warming Wooyoung up for this moment. You pat his hair reassuringly, cooing soft praises at Wooyoung, who groans as San’s lubed up fingers breach his rim to loosen him up a little further. San presses a soft, lingering kiss on Wooyoung’s shoulder and moves his fingers just as gently, gradually picking up speed.

You know San is not avoiding Wooyoung’s prostate when he jerks violently, the strap slipping out of his mouth, no longer muffling his loud whines. “F-fuck, right there, r-right there, Sannie…” he moans weakly, rocking back into San’s fingers.

Clumsily, Wooyoung grabs at the strap to try and stuff it back into his mouth. The tip catches against his cheek first, smearing a thick streak of saliva across his face. You sigh contently when Wooyoung keeps his hand around the silicone cock, rubbing the pleasing protrusion at the base firmly against your cunt as he wraps his swollen lips around its length.

“Still kinda tight… Relax, babe,” San grunts, curling his fingers in a way that has Wooyoung let out a throttled mewl. He runs his free hand soothingly over Wooyoung’s back. “Ahh, no wonder you’re tense,” he purrs. “Gonna be your first time getting fucked by two cocks like this, isn’t it? You’re such a greedy, perfect cockslut that it’s easy to forget you never took more than one at once. Just doesn’t seem right… those pretty holes were made to be used and ruined by some good dick.”

Tears escape Wooyoung’s lashes as he gurgles around your strap, his motions getting shakier with every filthy word from San, trembling harder with every thrust of San’s fingers. His own cock looks achingly hard, flushed a deep red and twitching, precum beading at the tip.

“Careful, Woo,” you gently chide him. “You’re not allowed to cum until I’m fucking you properly.”

Wooyoung whimpers, trimmed nails digging into your thigh as he desperately holds back from reaching down to bring himself relief.

A dangerous grin flashes across San’s lips as he also realises just how close Wooyoung is. “Oh? The cockslut can’t even wait until he’s stuffed full the way he should be? Are you gonna fall apart on just my fingers?”

“Mhh hm—”

Wooyoung can’t get his muffled noises of denial past his obstructed throat. He tries his best to obey your instruction, but San does nothing to make it easier on him.

Instead San’s wrist snaps harshly, the squelch of lube obscenely loud. His eyes are sharp and filled with dark intent, watching how Wooyoung shudders and whines, pushed closer and closer to his limit—

You can see the exact moment Wooyoung realises his efforts to hold back are futile, his eyes going wide a split second before he convulses, inadvertently pushing the strap down the back of his throat again. San’s free hand is on Wooyoung’s cock in a heartbeat, making sure he spills messy splatters of cum on San’s fingers and his own chest.

Wooyoung pants for air, spluttering and coughing when you pull the strap from his mouth. “S-sorry, I didn’t— didn’t mean to—” He babbles a rushed apology, staring up at you with wet eyes, his face red and puffy.

“Shh, it’s alright,” you hush him, going down on your knees so you can cradle his face, brushing your thumbs over tear-streaked cheeks. “Tried so hard, didn’t you?”

“Hm-hm,” he whines in agreement.

“Our pretty babygirl just gets overwhelmed so fast, doesn’t he?” you hum, pressing small pecks on his cock-swollen lips. “So sensitive that a few fingers is all it takes.”

Wooyoung sniffs, nodding weakly. “Y-yeah.”

“Look at that, made a mess all over yourself,” you tease, catching some of the white essence dribbling down Wooyoung’s chest. “Not your fault it’s so easy to wreck you. That’s just who you are, isn’t it? A needy, desperate thing.”

He whines an unintelligible noise. For anyone else, your words might have been humiliating; but for Wooyoung, they set something inside him free. Not his fault; just his nature.

San slowly kisses up Wooyoung’s neck, rubbing his shaky arms. It’d almost be sweet, if not for the satisfied curve of San’s lips. He’s gotten Wooyoung exactly where he wants him. “It’s okay, Woo,” he says, playfully nipping at his earlobe. “You can make it up later.”

Wooyoung’s attempt at answering is smothered by San’s mouth with a sudden, hard kiss. Your breath catches at his intensity, fervid and hungry. Just the sight of San and Wooyoung entangled alone is always enough to make your toes curl; from their shared, sensual passion, to the simple beauty of their contrasted features, the striking delicacy of Wooyoung melting into San’s masculine solidness.

You could watch them forever like this, but San does not allow you to be their spectator for long. Without even breaking the kiss, he reaches out to tug at your arm, pulling you into them. You go willingly.

Wooyoung welcomes you with a soft whine as you nip and suck at his neck, the split-glistened strap pressing against his half-hard cock. He proves himself every bit the desperate, needy thing that you called him, turning his head to switch between kissing you and San, groaning against your lips as he’s engulfed with heated attention from two ends. Breathlessly he gasps between kisses, trembling while you and San slowly leave a tapestry of hickeys and bitemarks over his neck and shoulders.

It’s when he starts to rock his hips, grinding back against San, that you reach for his dick. It’s still partially soft, still sensitive from cumming earlier. Wooyoung jerks into your grasp, his loud, keening whine stifled by San’s tongue down his throat. Fresh tears spill down Wooyoung’s cheeks as he shakes his head, his hand weakly clinging onto your arm — but his body tells a different story entirely, his spine arching as he contorts with overwhelming pleasure.

You are captivated, your tongue dragging over his wet cheek as you chase an instinct to lick up his tears. “Yeah, you can take it,” you murmur by his ear, making sure to keep a steady pace with your hand. “Want you hard and leaking when I finally fuck you. You owe us that much, don’t you think? Or is our babygirl going to disappoint me again?”

Wooyoung whimpers, head falling back against San’s shoulders. “C-can take it,” he slurs, now openly rocking his hips to fuck up into your hand.

San’s eyes blaze as he watches you exert your control over Wooyoung. Once your hand has settled into a rhythm, San firmly pulls you close again, capturing you in a hard kiss this time. Heatedly he explores the familiar crevices of your mouth while Wooyoung squirms and mewls between you, jaw slackening and eyes rolling back.

Your cunt aches at Wooyoung’s noisy writhing, and you press a gentle hand against San’s shoulder to push him back.

He begrudgingly parts from your lips, breathing hard. Focus slowly returns to his eyes as he grins down at Wooyoung’s wrecked state. “He’s ready?”

“I think so,” you hum, gently cradling Wooyoung’s cheeks. “What do you say, Wooyoungie, ready to take my cock?”

Wooyoung nuzzles at your palm, the rise and fall of his chest slowly steadying. “Ready,” he sighs with a languid smile, tinged with anticipatory excitement. “Want it… want your cock so bad, want you to fuck me…”

You giggle, bumping your forehead against his. “Good boy,” you praise, and leave a light peck on his nose. “Then that’s exactly what I’ll do.”

Almost effortlessly, San lifts a squirmy Wooyoung on his feet, then onto the bed, manoeuvring him onto all fours.

Wooyoung moans when you run a hand over the sweet curve of his ass, peeking over his shoulder to look at you. You knead at his cheeks, staring intently at how lube has has trickled out his stretched hole, down to his thighs. It’s all too tempting to dive in and lap it up, to tease him with your tongue and sink your teeth into that pretty ass, but you doubt Wooyoung has much patience left in him — and neither do you, for that matter.

“San?” you ask, nudging at the container of lube to reapply a fresh layer. San grabs the bottle; but instead of handing it over to you, he just grins and slides up behind you.

Generously he slicks up his own hand, and your breath hitches as San reaches around to lube up the strap for you. There is something unexpectedly sensual about his big hand gliding over the length of your silicone cock, firm strokes that have you instinctively rocking into his touch, like you can feel him.

Wooyoung lets out an impatient whine. “Please…” he begs, wiggling his ass at you, and you decide he’s been forced to wait long enough.

You softly tap San’s arm, at which he retreats to rest his sticky hand on your waist instead. He hums when you press a soft kiss of gratitude on his lips, and then you turn your full attention back to Wooyoung.

He shudders when the silicone cockhead presses at his entrance, then slowly sinks in.

It’s not the biggest dildo that came with the kit, not quite matching San in thickness, but you preferred to start out with a size that you know Wooyoung can handle. Still, it’s girth is satisfying enough with a nice upward curve, and a subtly ribbed shaft that’s already doing a number on Wooyoung, if the way his fingers dig into the sheets is any indication.

“Oh fuck,” he grits out, eyes clenched shut.

You take your time to bottom out, making sure you can do so comfortably, and Wooyoung comes apart further with every slow inch. His arms buckle, falling onto his elbows when your thighs press against his ass, fully buried inside his tight hole. He pants hard, fingers digging into the sheets.

“Please please please,” he babbles, “oh fuck please move, please fuck me already, fuck—”

“Hm, I think he likes taking your cock,” San observes dryly, a mocking lilt in his voice. He reaches around you to give Wooyoung’s ass a light smack, grinning when Wooyoung whines harder in response. “Yeah, he likes it.”

You don’t react with more than a sound of acknowledgement; too focused on the roll of your hips, too taken in by Wooyoung’s choked noises as you finally take mercy, the ribbed strap gliding in and out at a steady pace.

In a way, the rhythmic motion of thrusting into Wooyoung is intimately familiar, yet also entirely new. You’ve fucked Wooyoung with a toy before, sure, but the simple snap of your hand doesn’t compare to the physicality of using almost your entire body to bury your cock into him. Your arms tense as you hold onto his hips to keep him steady, your thighs and core muscles flex to buck against his ass over and over again.

(Already you can tell that you need to conserve your energy, not wanting to wear yourself out before Wooyoung is a sobbing ruin, utterly wrecked and completely sated.)

Wooyoung gasps and whines with every thrust, his fists tightening into the sheets — but despite his obvious pleasure, a tendril of frustration flicks at you; you’ve seen Wooyoung in the throes of depraved passion often enough to know you’re not hitting the spot that will obliterate him, not in the way San can. You try to adjust, searching for his prostate, but it’s trickier when you can’t actually feel inside him, and your efforts only seem to make your thrusts more awkward.

San puts his hand on your waist when he realises you are getting in your own way, squeezing reassuringly. His breath falls on your ear as he guides your motions, easing your hips into a smooth roll that soon has Wooyoung let out a pitched cry, his entire body jolting.

“That’s it,” San rasps in satisfaction, letting you move on your own again, “that’s how you fuck that tight hole. Look at you making such a pretty mess of Wooyoungie, all cockdrunk on you.”

Wooyoung keens at the praise, whimpering every time you hit that sweet spot.

You can’t help a moan of your own, a hot wire thrumming through your core — that only grows sharper when San’s hands wander down to your ass. At first he just lightly squeezes, but soon he takes full advantage of the harness’ open back, spreading your cheeks apart to expose you to the cool air. His thumbs inch inward; one is still covered with a remnant of lube, slowly circling your sensitive rim.

Your breath hitches at the unexpected touch, making you buck harder into Wooyoung. His voice breaks with every snap of your hips, “Hngh, ah ah—” hiccuped moans spilling past his lips.

San grins, his thumb resting against your entrance, never quite pressing inside. “Fucking him so well, baby,” he groans, lazily sucking a wet patch into your neck. “Tell her, Wooyoung. Tell her how well she’s fucking you.”

“S-so well,” Wooyoung sobs, clawing at the sheets. “Fucking me so well…”

His garbled cries burn through you, the heat inside your core stoked by his writhing, desperate state. So pliant, so willing to surrender himself to you.

However, your thighs burn for another reason entirely; muscles straining with the effort of fucking Wooyoung into this mindless stupor. You slow the roll of your hips, giving yourself a breather while enjoying Wooyoung’s pitiful whines of protest maybe a little too much.

“But this is not enough for you, is it?” you hum, rubbing your hand over the small of Wooyoung’s sweat-slicked back. “You want Sannie’s cock too, to have that clever mouth used again like it should be.”

San lets out a raspy chuckle as Wooyoung nods frantically. “I don’t know, baby, our Wooyoungie looks like he might be at his limit. You sure he can take us both?”

Wooyoung squirms in frustration. “I can, Sannie, you know I can,” he snivels. “Please, want it, want it, San-ah—!”

He jolts when San smacks his ass again, whining loudly as he burrows his face into the bed.

With that, San moves away from you, his fingers digging into the curve of your rear as he goes. Wooyoung moans weakly when San sits on his knees in front of him, clasping Wooyoung’s chin between thumb and index finger to lift his head.

“Then prove it,” San says coolly, raising an unimpressed eyebrow. “Show us what a good cockslut you are.”

Wooyoung shivers at the dismissive tone of San’s challenge, like he isn’t expecting all that much. He shakily pushes himself up on his hands, biting down a groan at how your strap rubs up against his insides. One last glance over his shoulder, while he still can, drinking in the sight of you with hungry, tear-filled eyes.

And a glorious sight you are, shiny drops of sweat beading down the valley of your chest, heaving from exertion. Both of you completely enraptured by this new experience, the new sensations that come with it. The ribbed dildo feels amazing, better than Wooyoung dared hope — but far more than that, he is on the brink because it’s you, you fucking that toy into him.

You catch his gaze, biting your lip at the contact. “Remember, Woo,” you say, voice tight, “remember the signal if I’m too rough on you.”

Wooyoung lets out a hoarse chuckle, giving you the widest, dirtiest grin he can muster. Too rough? On him? Fuck, how are you blowing his back out and still manage to be this adorable? “Sure, will do,” he rasps, tapping San’s thigh in demonstration of the nonverbal sign.

San grasps onto Wooyoung’s chin again, yanking him back. He taps the head of his cock against Wooyoung’s cheek, leaving a trail of precum, exactly where your strap smeared saliva across his face earlier.

“C’mon, Woo,” San says, still giving him that unimpressed look, the one that makes Wooyoung squirm without fail, “do you want this cock down your throat or not?”

Wooyoung’s breath instantly shallows, his jaw relaxing on instinct. He groans in bliss as San nudges the flushed tip past his swollen lips, sinking home. Your hips move in a slow roll and Wooyoung lets himself get swept away by the rhythm, taking San deeper inch by inch.

His mind goes blank, lost in the toe-curling slide of your strap, the hefty weight of San on his tongue — fuck, he loves sucking that fat cock. How the thickness of it strains his jaw, but within manageable levels after all the countless practise he’s enjoyed. He’s proud of that, how his gag reflex has faded to a mere afterthought, only brought back to the forefront when he’s caught off guard (and even then, it’s good). Proud of the cracks in San’s unaffected facade that Wooyoung breaks through with nothing but the tightness of his throat and his skilful tongue.

Right now though, you’re making it harder for Wooyoung to use that tongue to its full potential. Every rough thrust jostles him, pushes San’s dick deeper without any room for skill, reducing Wooyoung to nothing but a cocksleeve to be used. (San does not seem to mind, his groans low and breathy.)

He whimpers as you slam into him without mercy, his aching cock slapping against his stomach with a lewd smacking sound, drawing sharp jolts of pleasure. You’ve well and truly honed in on his sweet spot now, pressure building up and up and up until Wooyoung feels like he’s clawing at the ceiling. San’s hand rests on Wooyoung’s throat, squeezing with only a gentle pressure to keep him steady as he’s split open from two ends; an overwhelming barrage of sensations that goes beyond feeling ‘full’. Wooyoung feels whole.

Desperately he moans around San’s cock with a muffled, pathetic sob, the world blurring out of focus. One brush of a hand against his throbbing dick and he’d be done for, he’s sure of it; but despite cumming untouched earlier, now that edge stays just out of reach. Trapping Wooyoung at the height of pleasure with nowhere to come down.

He’s whimpering, body trembling under the unending onslaught. Too much, some might cry out — but not Wooyoung, never Wooyoung.

No, for him it is perfect. He stopped believing in ‘too much’ long ago, after he heard enough of those two words in his life. That he talks too much, wants too much, gives too much, is too much.

But here, between these two hearts, he is exactly right.

Addled memories flood through his dizzied thoughts, physical pleasure blurring into intense emotion.

With San, Wooyoung knew it from the very start; an unshakeable certainty within moments of their first meeting. San has always embraced his chaotic energy, soaking it up like a sponge and giving back to Wooyoung in equal measure. Making it easy for Wooyoung to throw himself into their relationship with what some might call reckless abandon — but San never dropped him. He is never too much for San.

Wooyoung had been too much for you, once. Crashing head-first into your boundaries back when he kissed you; pushing too hard because he did not want to be pushed away. But it only brought you closer, seeking out the places where you can meet each other; where Wooyoung can be himself without compromise without compromising you. Where Wooyoung can taste the word ‘love’ in his mouth and see you light up with joy, the same joy that you and San give him in turn.

No, he’ll never be too much for you either. He knows that now.

Wooyoung lets out a hoarse, garbled cry at a hard hit of your cock against his prostate, breaking him out of his hazy thoughts and right back to the present, back in the middle of your and San’s heated attention and affection. Right where Wooyoung thrives.

Fuck, he’s light-headed. He feels like he’s floating, vaguely hears praise drift to him from both sides. Good boy. Taking it so well. That’s what those pretty holes are good for. He’s drowning in it, barely feeling his body anymore, only the pleasure buzzing through him.

He slowly realises San’s fingers are tangled through his hair, helping his head stay up.

Wooyoung moans indulgently, blinking up at him. He can only imagine what a mess San is looking at; Wooyoung can feel the wetness of spittle and tears trailing down his cheeks, his chin, even his throat. Fuck, he wishes you could see it too, what a fucking pathetic wreck he is for you both.

San makes a noise somewhere between a chuckle and a groan as he looks down on Wooyoung. “Cockdrunk,” he says, his grin sharp. “Completely wasted. Can you even handle my load or are you too fucked out to swallow?”

Immediately Wooyoung whines in protest. He can do it, he can do anything for you and San. Doesn’t want San to pull out, doesn’t want you to stop moving, not yet not now not ever. He swallows around San’s cockhead, messily lavishing his tongue against the twitching shaft.

You giggle breathily at Wooyoung’s enthusiasm, squeezing at his hip. “Now San, don’t underestimate our Wooyoungie,” you playfully admonish him. “This is what he’s made for. He can take it.”

Yes yes yes. Agreement sings through Wooyoung as he humps back against you in gratitude. You get it. You understand.

San grunts at the stifled moans around his cock, Wooyoung’s increased efforts causing him to hiss sharply through gritted teeth. He can’t last much longer, his fingers tightening in Wooyoung’s hair, breath going pitchy as his hips jerk.

Wooyoung groans when San’s cock twitches in his mouth, hot sticky ropes of cum hitting his tongue. Maybe he is a little too fucked out after all, some seed trickling down his chin as he struggles to gulp down every drop with lewd, wet noises.

San pants harshly as he slips out, pumping himself with quick strokes to wrest as much as he can for Wooyoung to take. Finally he wipes the tip on Wooyoung's glossy lips, then nudges him to turn his head and give you a proper view. Your sharp moan lances through Wooyoung's painfully hard cock — but distress takes over when you slow down.

So close, he was so close oh god you can’t stop now. Wooyoung sobs pitifully, wiggling his hips as he babbles his wretched pleas.

Your cunt throbs at his desperation, his face flushed red and shiny with bodily fluids. Equal parts guilt and arousal sear through you at the unintentional denial, but fuck your thighs are burning. (Today has given you a whole new appreciation for San's muscle strength.)

“Shh, it’s okay, just want you to ride me,” you hum, stroking his quivering thigh. “Wanna see that beautiful face when you cum, can you do that for me, Wooyoungie?”

He lets out another choked up sob but nods frantically, whimpering when you pull out to lay down. Shakily he moves to sit in your lap, helped by San’s steady hold. Wooyoung whines in relief when you fill him up again, after a fresh coating of lube. He groans at the new angle, throwing his head back.

You rub your hands up and down his thighs, letting your eyes wander over him; his sweat-slicked torso, the veins pulsing in his shaky arms, cock leaking against his stomach. You lightly wrap your fingers around it, causing Wooyoung to stutter out a surprised “Ah—!”

“Go ahead, Woo. Show me,” you tell him breathily, bucking your hips up. “Show me how badly you want to cum on my cock.”

Wooyoung does not need to be told twice. He leans back to brace his hands on your legs, arching his back. The roll of his hips starts slow, easing himself into it, but soon you can see his lithe muscles rippling as he bounces in your lap. There is no restraint in him, his face contorted with pleasure as he whines, gasping every time you buck your hips to meet his. He looks utterly deprived. He is perfect.

San curls up next to you on his side, sluggish in the wake of his own orgasm. He pecks at your shoulder, tracing lazy circles on your stomach, close to where Wooyoung fucks into your hand as he moves. “You haven’t cum yet, have you?” San murmurs, his hot breath fanning across your skin.

“N-not yet,” you admit, “but—”

But fuck, you are getting close.

It’s been a long, slow build-up with the base of the strap rubbing against your cunt; not always catching your clit just right, but you have a bit more control now that you’re laying down, to wiggle or guide Wooyoung’s hips. More than that, you are so deeply mesmerised by Wooyoung that his pleasure might as well be your own. Fucking himself seemingly tireless even though he’s gasping for breath, surely reaching his limit. His whiny sobs sear through you, your own breath catching in your throat as you slowly, inevitably, begin to tilt over.

San lets out a low, rumbling chuckle, and slings an arm over you to leisurely play with one of your tits. The light pecks on your shoulder turn to insistent, open-mouthed kisses as San sucks wet bruises into your skin. You bite down a whine as he thumbs at your nipple, your hips bucking up harder into Wooyoung. You move your hand quicker, stubborn to drag Wooyoung right down with you.

“God, look at you,” you groan, straining to get the words out, “look so pretty, crying on my cock.”

Wooyoung makes a strangled noise. “’Cause— ‘cause it feels so good,” he chokes out. “Y-you—” but whatever else he wants to say is drowned out by breathless, high-pitched moans.

You use your last shreds of energy to piston the strap harder into Wooyoung, jostling him in your lap. His body bows forward, hands scrambling to grab onto your shoulders, almost knocking San in the face. San nips at Wooyoung’s wrist, but easily readjusts by latching his mouth onto your breast instead.

You tense up, hips stuttering as you curse under your breath — and then San’s teeth sink into the soft, sensitive flesh, biting down. The pain jolts through you like a catalyst, your peak rushing at you; you try to stave it off, try to get Wooyoung there first, but that only makes it chase you faster. The force of it rips through your nerve endings, your nails digging into Wooyoung’s waist as you finally topple over with a ragged cry. Your toes curl almost painfully, body trembling as white-hot sparks fray your senses.

Your eyes try to squeeze shut but you force them open, gasping breathless moans as you stare up at Wooyoung; intent on seeing him succumb before you can fully come down from your own high.

His abdominal muscles flex with tension, his thighs clenching as he threatens to lose his rhythm. You shakily pick up the pace with your hand, sliding over the slick length of his cock. Wooyoung keens and weakly ruts against your strap, keeping constant pressure on your still-twitching cunt. San’s fingers wrap around yours, helping you to keep moving while you squirm from the relentless waves rippling through you.

Wooyoung lets out a throttled whine, doubling over as he unravels, spilling a hot and sticky mess all over your fingers and stomach. Your grip on him weakens, but San forces you to keep moving, milking Wooyoung for everything he’s got until he’s shaking uncontrollably on top of you, sobbing out pathetic whimpers.

When San finally takes mercy and lets go, Wooyoung crumples on top of you with a tired moan. The dildo slips out as he burrows himself in your arms, uncaring for the watery strings of cum smeared between your bodies.

“Oh fuck… that was… ‘s was fucking amazing…” he mumbles, nuzzling against your chest.

You giggle tiredly, running a hand through his sweaty hair. “Yes? Did we make a good investment into our future with this one?”

“Mhn…” Wooyoung makes a vague noise of affirmation. He seems about ready to pass out, but there’s still a dazed smile on his face when San tips up his chin. “Good, yeah…”

San’s lips curl into a fond smile, chuckling when Wooyoung grouses at being manoeuvred just enough so San can take the harness off of you. He sets the glistening dildo aside for later cleaning, then gives your worn-out cunt an affectionate pat. You whine even at the light touch, but sigh contently when his warm hands massage your sore thighs. Fuck, you’re going to have one hell of a muscle-ache tomorrow.

San grins at your pained expression. “Wanted to see Wooyoung ride you, hm?” he teases. “No other reason for changing that up, I’m sure.”

“What are you insinuating, Choi San?” you grumble, half-heartedly rolling your eyes.

He laughs, continuing to work your aching muscles. “Nothing, nothing! Just… are you sure you don’t want to join me at the gym sometime?”

You make a face at him, at the same time that Wooyoung pipes up, “Nu-uh. If you need an extra workout, you can just fuck me some more.”

“…That does sound like a lot more fun than a gym membership,” you accede. “Sorry, San.”

San chuckles, shaking his head. “Can’t argue with that. C’mon, let’s get that mess cleaned up,” he says, nudging Wooyoung to roll off of from you with a groan.

You take the wet-wipes that San offer you, and clean the dried crusts of cum on Wooyoung’s stomach. His eyes are half-lidded and he hums weakly when you stroke his cheek; you suspect he’ll doze off for real soon.

“Hm, would be nice if we could find a place that has a bathtube,” you sigh wistfully as you start to clean yourself, yearning for the comfort of a warm soak right now. “Though I guess it’d be hard to find one that fits all three of us.”

“I like that,” San smiles while he tugs a blanket over Wooyoung to make sure he doesn’t get cold. “We’ll make it work somehow. We always do.”

“Stacked on top of each other?” you suggest playfully.

San pouts. “I’d feel bad for whoever is at the bottom,” he says, utterly earnest — and you’d tease him for it, if your heart didn’t burst with affection at his simple, straightforward consideration.

Wooyoung, however, has no such hangups. “Then it has to be you, I guess,” he mumbles with a tired grin.

San’s pout intensifies into a sulk, but his face instantly softens when Wooyoung tugs at his and your wrists, wanting you closer. Soon Wooyoung is snuggled up in the middle, embraced from both sides. He groans happily at the gentle kisses San presses against his neck, the featherlight brush of your fingertips over his cheek, your arm slung lazily around him.

You catch San’s eyes while Wooyoung dozes off, warmth glowing in your chest at his dimpled smile. He reaches over Wooyoung to rest his hand on your waist, always in need of those little physical threads of connection. You shift your leg to weave another thread, hooking your ankle around his shin. The three of you fitting together perfectly.

“Come on, go talk to him then,” Wooyoung sighs at you in exasperation, one hand on his hip, the other holding a spatula as he waves you off. “You’ve been nosy about him for ages, now you got your chance and you’re in here distracting me instead? No ma’am, get your fine ass out there.”

“But—”

Wooyoung gives you no time for excuses, grabbing your shoulders from behind and forcibly ushering you out of the kitchen, to the living area. To San, and to the guy San’s talking to.

The ever-illusive, long awaited friend, finally back in town.

Jeong Yunho.

Honestly, you don’t even know why you’re nervous about this. It’s not like Yunho is the first close friend of San and Wooyoung that you’ve met; you’ve even talked to him before! Just over voice chat, saying ‘hi’ when San or Wooyoung are gaming with him, but still!

Wooyoung’s photographs have even prepared you for his ridiculously handsome face (seriously, why are all of their friends like this?!), but you’re still caught off guard by his physical presence. It’s not just his height, though that’s definitely a factor. Just something about the way he stands in the room, his posture relaxed with an easy confidence. Really, Yunho shouldn’t be intimidating; he oozes kindness and reliability, the type of guy who personally makes sure you get home safe after having one drink too many at the bar.

Maybe it’s the glances he’s been casting your way. Something in his thoughtful expression makes you feel like he’s carefully taking your measure. Seizing up if you’re right for his friends.

…Or maybe it’s not that deep, and you simply are anxious about making a good impression. After all, this is the guy who helped San to work through his insecurities, and even introduced him to Wooyoung. Without him, you’d never have ended up in this cosy arrangement with them.

While you cautiously go up to him and San, Wooyoung calls out from the kitchenette.

“Oi, Sannie, can you help me out with something!”

Oh, that bastard.

You look over your shoulder to fire a glare at Wooyoung, but he just grins back at you. You roll your eyes, sigh out those nerves, and go over to Yunho. San gives you a wink as he walks past, and also gives your ass a light smack. Yeah. Figures.

Yunho’s big brown eyes shine with curiosity as you approach him.

“So. You’re San and Wooyoung’s… friend, right?” he says, with the slightly hesitant tone of someone who knows he’s dealing with a square hole but only has round pegs to try and fit in there. “Nice to finally meet you in person.”

“Yeah, same,” you smile back at him, internally cursing Wooyoung into the special circle of hell reserved for backstabbing traitors. “And ‘friend’ is not inaccurate, no,” you allow, trying for a shy grin. “We’re still workshopping it out! The latest idea was that I call the guys my ‘umbrellas’, but… yeah. Maybe a little more time in the workshop for that one.”

“Umbrellas?” Yunho blinks in confusion, but it only takes a split second before understanding breaks out on his face. “Ahh, got it — ‘Woosan’.” He giggles, hiding his mouth behind his hand. You can’t lie; it’s pretty dang cute. “San came up with that one, didn’t he?”

“He did!” you giggle with Yunho, the shared laugh helping you to relax. “Was real proud of it too!”

With the discovery of a common ground between you (a penchant for lovingly poking fun at San and Wooyoung), you loosen up and fall into light conversation. His laugh is easy and his jokes are playful, and it’s soon obvious to you why the guys are so attached to him.

Apparently Yunho is coming to a similar conclusion about you, eyeing you with a thoughtful expression.

“You know, to be honest I was surprised to hear San and Wooyoung wanted to try something with a third. Really surprised,” he chuckles awkwardly, scratching his cheek. “San was pretty clear he wanted a closed relationship. But… yeah. I can see it. Makes sense.”

He nods, and something has softened in his eyes while he talked. Suddenly you have the distinct impression that you weren’t wrong for feeling like Yunho was taking your measure.

A small smile curves around your lips at Yunho’s simple observation, your eyes glancing to the kitchenette where San is ‘helping’ Wooyoung by stealing food and getting in his way. “I mean, none of us really planned for me to stick around like this,” you point out, feeling oddly timid. “We didn’t plan for any of this to shake out this way. It just… did.”

Yunho hums in acknowledgement. “Yeah, that’s just how things go sometimes, isn’t it,” he says, his smile crooked. “Well, whatever you end up calling this, they seem real happy with how it’s going. If they’re your umbrellas, what’d that make you? Their parka?” he teases.

“Oh hell no!” you splutter. “Veto, veto! Don’t you dare put that idea into their heads, I’d rather make do without any labels at all, thankyouverymuch!”

“Alright, I won’t!” Yunho giggles again at your indigence, round cheeks lifted by his laugh. “Label or no label, whichever way works for you, right? And clearly this works.”

You glance at San and Wooyoung again, bubbles of warmth popping in your chest at the sight of them. San has abandoned all pretence at being helpful, his chest pressed against Wooyoung’s back and arms wrapped around his waist, trying to smooch him while Wooyoung is completely focused on the food.

San is the one who sees you watching them first, his cheeks dimpling at you in a soft smile. Wooyoung quickly notices San’s attention wandering, but his vaguely offended expression fades when he catches your eye, replaced by a cheeky grin. (Ugh fine, yes his stupid little plan worked.)

“Yeah, it works,” you say quietly to Yunho, feeling San and Wooyoung’s affection wrap around you even all the way from the other side of the room. It really does.

[blatterpussbunnyfromhell]

Hi everyone!

Sharing these links again bc I didn't get my unemployment benefits this month and I currently have 135 euros of medical expenses, which makes a dent in my bank account. If you could buy something from my shops, you'll not only be helping me out but you'd also get something with a cool artwork on it!

(fyi, I only get like 20% of every sale)

I have a Society6!

Hello everyone! As the title says, I have a shop on Society6 (in addition to my Redbubble one). If you could check it out, share this post and if you can afford it, buy a print, it would mean a lot to me!

It's mostly fanart.

[drarryspecificrecs]

2024.08 ~ Top 10 longest fics posted on AO3

1. The Emerald Room by echostep [M, 181k]

►While working a psychology internship, Harry Evans is presented with the challenge of analysing Draco Black, a mysterious patient who spends his days writing on the walls of his hospital room. But when the story of ‘Malfoy’ and ‘Potter’, a Dark Lord, and a magic castle starts to sound familiar, Harry struggles to find his place in a world that no longer remembers him.

2. The Art of Getting By by @thusspoketrish [E, 149k]

►This is a story about love. Draco is on a desperate mission to escape the devastating voice controlling his life, taunting him about his past, and cursing his future. As he reaches his breaking point, he’s sent to a psychiatric hospital, rendered mute, and struggles to find meaning in moving forward. Harry, grappling with his own demons, has been spiralling out of control with an unchecked temper. Unable to escape the anger that has consumed him, he finds himself involuntarily committed, believing that there’s little hope in achieving the semblance of normalcy he craves post-war. Their paths collide, and fate proves how beautiful and cruel it can be.

3. The No Divorce Clause by @coffeedrgn87 [E, 144k]

►Haunted by the war’s aftermath, Harry Potter flees his old life, searching for peace in far-flung corners of Europe. But peace proves elusive when he unexpectedly crosses paths with Draco Malfoy. In a world where magic lingers just beneath the surface, their journey takes them through enchanted cities and ancient secrets, testing the boundaries between rivalry and something far deeper. With unresolved tension crackling between them, Harry and Draco face a slow-burning connection that neither can ignore. As they navigate heartbreak, danger, and the shadows of their past, they’ll discover that the hardest battle isn’t always against dark wizards—it’s against the walls they've built around their hearts.

4. Out of the Dark by Chioces [T, 127k]

►Ten years after the war, most Slytherins have either been executed or gone into hiding. A few, like Draco, exist on the outskirts of society. Not that Draco minds, his life is simple and respectable. He runs a business he loves and keeps his head down. It's not perfect, but for Draco, it's more than enough. That is, until he makes the ill-advised decision to help a very drunk Harry Potter. Potter, true to form, takes this as an open invitation to not only invade Draco's home, but also to drag Draco into the political mess that Wizarding Britain has become. [...]

5. Lifeguards by patrick11stump [M, 123k]

►Draco Malfoy is simply trying to get on with life working at a muggle pool as a lifeguard. That is until a certain trio of troublemakers decides to come to HIS pool and change everything in his simple, stress-free life.

6. When We Were Lost (We Found Each Other) by spifty_one [E, 110k]

►If there was one thing Harry Potter could count on in his life, it was a guaranteed lack of boredom. So, it really shouldn't have come as a surprise that as he was making his way through Diagon Alley to the nearest Apparation point-the one day a month he ventured out of 12 Grimmauld Place-that he passes by an altercation that was absurdly unevenly matched. His whole world turns on its head from there. He just doesn't know it yet.

7. A love story by Year_ofthe_Rabbit [?, 98k]

►Draco Malfoy is just doing his best to keep his head down and get by as he counts down the days until the end of his probation. He clings to his secret dream of finding a way out of the drugery to earn his potions mastery, counting every knut and sickle he can scrape into his savings. His only indulgence is his weekly trip to Sereni-Tea, a cosey shop welcoming even to a convicted death eater. And Harry Potter, who came out of no where and is determined to make himself a part of Draco's life. [...]

8. One Starry Knight by @ferretboyandpotty [E, 93k]

►A story told through Draco’s perspective as he goes through life as a bored Prince, sad knowing he has to marry a woman he doesn’t love. Hope is well and truly out the window until Sir Harry Potter, the kingdom’s most popular Knight, is hired at the castle, and he shows Draco things he’s never experienced before. In one way or...another. There are troubles that lie ahead for both of them, mainly one being a deliciously evil King Lucius Malfoy. Angst, adventures and copious amounts of romance.

9. Show Me by VanessaCG [E, 77k]

►Nine years after the war, and Harry thinks he's fine. All right, his work is all-consuming and his social life is woeful. [...] Draco has spent years trying to establish himself as someone of worth to Wizarding Society, albeit in a reclusive, understated way. Throwing himself into his business in an attempt to manage his own anxieties and ignore the nagging voice telling him that he's not good enough, his private little world is at least safe and comfortable. Or as safe as he can make it. But when famous Harry Potter shows up in his shop after nine years, everything looks set to be turned on its head.

10. Hearts Need Change by Adora_Slytherin [M, 75k]

►Draco spends his days at the manor just like any other day. It feels like everything is the same until he chooses to change that. /// Featuring: Soft Draco, tea time, baking and lots of fluff hopefully.

—

※ Word count: 1k ~ 15k

※ Word count: 15k ~ 40k

All I Ask of You by veradubhghoill [E, 36k]

Beneath the Masks We Wear by Dbenny [T, 18k]

In Deep Water by @mallstars [E, 39k]

Kiss me on my pretty lips, I'd tear my soul out for a piece of this by fairies_withspirits [E, 15k]

Kitchen dancing to bad 90’s music by Big_dog_energy [?, 19k]

Meet me at Midnight by ProseMary [T, 15k]

A Smarter Hat Than Me by @enparallel [E, 32k]

Sore by rubygreene [E, 38k]

Viewer's Discretion by @mintyelbows [E, 21k]

The War of Souls by @ladyrava [G, 30k]

you weren't supposed to die (before I could kiss you) by @dobbyrockssocks [T, 28k]

—

Ongoing Fest/Exchange

※ Fics would be listed elsewhere.

Drarry Mini Bang | @drarry-mini-bang

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HP Soulmates Fest 2024 | @hp-soulmates

[dumbbitchgalore]

can we please get girl!dad price 😩

Got a few asks like this so imma just condense them into one.

Girldad!Price is an absolute menace to society but a damn teddy bear to his daughters.

Headcanon him to have three daughters aged 17 and 11 year old twins.

Absolutely lets them do whatever as kids:

Twins used to draw on the walls with crayons and the older sister would get worried and guilty so she'd srub the walls even though Price doesn't really care who would rather have them up on the walls

Price joins in on the girls' tea parties

Oldest had a phase of doing everyone's hair and makeup so she'd always practice on John first before doing in on others because John is her mistakes dummy

When home from deplyment, he'd take his daughters on bike rides around the house and take them to parks as well in the afternoon

Can never say so, comes home from a shopping trip with the girls holding bags upon bags as they almost topple over

Buys all her girls cars when they're old enough to drive. 4X4, 6 cylinder SUVs because they're more 'reliable' than those 'cheap hatchbacks and sedans' 'my girls aren't gonna drive in a car that can break down in two days'

Takes her girls' car to the mechanic cause he knows that they'll be scammed if they go by themselves.

Never fails to cry when his daughters pass a milestone: birthdays, graduations, weddings, first jobs, etc

Overall, John Price is a girl dad through and through and will do everything to his very best to give his daughters the best life possible. He is only human and does stuff up occassionally but never lets his girls stay mad for too long, always making it up to them.

[simpcityy]

I’m Not Her (Father Miguel O’Hara x Teen! Daughter Reader)

Summary: Miguel O’Hara is your biological father but it’s not great being his daughter when he’s hooked in the past still.

Disclaimer: I do not own Marvel or any of its characters. This is very short as well! Just a little prompt I thought also, I know the song is about a girl who loves a boy etc., but I thought of it more as father and daughter way. *Ahem* Him thinking of Gabi rather than the present daughter he has…I’m sorry if I confused you.

Word Count: 500

Warnings: Use of female pronouns, Use of (Y/N), angst, Father Miguel, overall, it’s just sad. Uhhh I think that is all for now.

Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.5 Pt.6

Being the biological daughter of Miguel O’Hara has its ups and downs but mostly downs according to you. Walking through the Spider Society, you held some reports from Jess, she was on her way to hand them over to your father but seeing the kind person you are, you decided to do it for her so she can rest. You're amazed how a woman so pregnant can still fight. Walking down the halls, you were alone with your thoughts. The time he left to be a father to another girl..a girl named Gabriella…were you not enough for him? What did Gabi have that you didn’t? So many thoughts running through your head only to be snapped from hearing Mayday giggling in the room. Taking a deep breath, you pushed in ready for the chaos. “Hey! (Y/N)!” Peter smiles holding an energetic child. “Hey” You responded before looking over at Miguel who was looking at the videos that hurt you the most. Videos of him and Gabriella. You only frown a bit before masking it. “I'll just drop this off” You dropped the files onto a flat surface before walking to the door. “Hey Boo! You going to ask him?” Lyla appears in front of you smiling. You look at her and back to Miguel before shaking your head. “No…he has better things to do” You whisper walking through her, leaving. Lyla watches you staying quiet before next to Miguel. “Files were dropped.” She brought him back to reality. “Hmm? Who?” He mutters looking at the AI. He goes down his platform and picks up the files you left. “(Y/N) did, she was here not long ago” Lyla looks at her phone scrolling through it. Miguel looks at the door where you left not long ago.

Sitting out on the roof of your dimension, your thoughts only seem to be filling you up with anger. Why did he leave you to be a father for another kid…yeah, she lost her father but so did you…he left you to be with her. You groan out in frustration before looking at the time. “There is not enough time left” You mutter before getting up and going back to the house. A home where you stopped waiting for him to come home. Upon reaching your room, you changed into your pjs before walking over to the kitchen. Opening the fridge, you pulled out a cake you ordered yourself from your favorite shop. Placing it on the table, you put the candles on and sat down in front of it. “Happy Birthday to me…happy birthday to me…” You began to sing before letting out a sob. Your candles were put out from your tears. Another year alone and many more to go.

“If I could be her…but I’m not her and she’s not me.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Authors note: This was just little one-shot. An idea that always comes to mind whenever I listen to that amazing song! I am working on part 3 of the Biomedical Engineer x Miguel. Hopefully this weekend it comes out along with the last part of my first father figure Miguel x reader. Please check those out if you haven’t. I’m stuck if I should make this into a full series as well, but I don’t know if people would interest in it. Anyways, as always sorry for any grammar errors. Thank you all for the support! Remember to stay hydrated and to keep on simping! (Simp City Population: 62!) Thank you so much for the follows and please you are welcome to reblog my works for others to be aware of this new Miguel O’Hara simp writer!

[niniiko]

Astrology Observations

*not a profesional astrologer these are just my personal observations

🎀 Leo risings with Saturn in Cancer individuals tend to not like being the center of attention and actually dislike being in the spotlight, they also tend to be shy individuals (all depends on the different placements!!!)

🎀 You tend to enjoy doing daily activities such as cooking, taking a walk, going grocery shopping etc... with the sign that falls in your 6th house, the 6th house is all about daily activities and collegues so if you have an Aquarius 6th house you might enjoy doing daily activities with Aquarius placements

🎀 People who have a LOT of 5th house synastry might have a very intense yet short relationship and if the south node or moon is also aspecting it they could still miss or remember each other for a very long time

🎀 Scorpio moons always have this darkness in their face, they are very intimidating if they are not speaking or smiling, these individuals also tend to have very dark or bushy eyebrows

🎀 If you have an 11th house stellium you could either be very detached from your friends to the point of ghosting them or very close to your friends to the point of thinking of them as your family, these people usually need companionship to be stable and can get lonely and sad if they don't have friends

🎀 Gemini mercuries always have this high-pitched tone of voice, whenever they talk it seems as if they are smiling while talking and i think it's very very cute

🎀 Taurus placements usually show affection through actions not words

🎀 Mars conjunction pluto individuals have a lot of stamina if they are tired they are quick to recharge energies (depending on the sign and its aspects)

🎀 Pisces placements and their eyes or lips . . . they have the prettiest eyes ever and their lips are either very plump or small but they always have something beautiful to them that may be shape, color . . . (could also apply to people who have pisces degrees 12° 24° in their big three, sun moon or rising)

🎀 Virgo placements (Sun, moon, rising and even virgo degrees 6° & 18°) like to do things correct and perfectly or they rather not do it all, they are extremely perfectionist and if something doesn't turn out they way they wanted they can get pretty frustrated with themselves, this is a reminder to be patient with yourself ♥️

🎀 Capricorn over the 3rd house and the way they are so passionate about their goals and studies??? They are always so hard working and they want to be the best in their class, typical bookworm that nobody talks to and everyone thinks they are stupid but they are actually a smartass

🎀 Unevolved Aries placements find it hard to own up to their mistakes and say sorry

🎀 Air moons are always analyzing every single emotion until they become numb, you are not a robot, you are allowed to feel emotions, they are teachers, pay attention to them

🎀 Libra moon over the 11th house might evade conflict with their friends, they despise having fights with friends

🎀 Cancer mercuries most of the time have such femenine and cute voices

🎀 Scorpio moon with an Aquarius MC (midheaven) could be interested in psychology, this is because Scorpio wants to know everything thats hidden, they want to know the unseen and Aquarius is a very humanitarian sign, they want to help society for the better and with the help of Scorpio they make a very great combination for psychologists or someone whos interested in psychology

🎀 Virgo risings love to look put together and even if they didnt put any effort into their appearance they always seem to manage how to look good

🎀 Earth mars women tend to like doing a natural makeup type of look or they don't wear makeup at all

🎀 If someones rising sign is your venus sign there could be some form of jealousy from the venus person towards the rising sign person, but it could go both ways

🎀 Nobody will understand you better than someone who has the same moon sign as you, you will always feel safe and at home with them, it's like you've known them for forever, people who share this placement usually have a one in a billion type of connection

🎀 You might disagree a lot of times with someone who has their mercury in opposition to yours, you might not share the same views in a topic and it's hard to get along with them

🎀 You look up to someone who has their moon in the sign of your 10th house

[todayscalss]

some experiences of mine being sk1nny to keep you motivated

first of all I want to clarify that i’m “irl skinny”, at bmi 18.9. I still haven’t even gotten close to reaping the real benefits of pretty/sk1nny privilege, but I know that to other people’s standards I look pretty well. this is just some light motivation that could help a ho out there who still hasn’t gotten to the healthy weight range🙏🏻

1. I live in a fairly “expensive” neighborhood, and omg the LOOKS that these Range Rover almond moms give me when I go for a walk😭 Their validation hits different

2. I actually enjoy going out much more as a skinnier person than when I was heavier. I feel better in my outfits and have to worry far less about being bloated by the night. Plus, in my country it’s very common to go out with very short clothes, so there’s a lot of pressure that I can luckily live up to.

3. Getting very obvious looks. I remember this one time I was at the mall and I saw a girl looking straight at my abdomen and she instantly covered hers. It was kind of a reflex. I lowkey felt bad (and I didn’t even look good that day😭) but it was also insanely validating

4. Being told by my friends “you could totally rock this outfit” when they see a cute fit on tiktok or Pinterest. It’s even more validating when it’s an outfit with low rise jeans or really cropped tops

5. When I had to get sent on an ambulance to the hospital, my mom told me that the medic who came to pick me up said I looked VERY th1n. felt so good coming from a healthcare worker

6. When I went grocery shopping in mid rise jeans and a very cropped t-shirt, and an old lady looked straight at me and went “i was supposed to look like that”. I DIDNT EVEN KNOW HER SHE JUST SAID IT STRAIGHT TO MY FACE😭 and I also wasn’t even that th1n at the time

7. Being constantly told “you should become a model”. Tbf i’m tall which adds up a lot to this, but I keep hearing people genuinely telling me this all the time. I’ve also been asked by friends of friends that are studying fashion (who i barely even know) if I wanted to model their clothes several times

8. Tank tops. That’s it. With crop tops I feel disgusting most of the time, but long tight fitting tank tops are my BEST FRIENDS. They make you look sm like a model and give you such a nice figure

9. Just saying, you WILL piss off your friends. I always try to not vocalize how I feel about my body to them bc they hate it and think I’m fishing for compliments. Once you’re sk1nny you’ll have to keep those insecurities to yourselves girlies sorry to break it to u!!

10. For the longest time I had no idea what the hell ppl meant by th!gh g4ps cause it just wasn’t an issue for me

11. The reality is that we live in a society that’s insanely evil to fat people. Don’t hate me for saying this, but it sort of feels like a relief whenever I see posts on the internet of people being made fun of for it, knowing that i come out the other side.

[shoogachi]

Shtity SPIDERVERSE headcanons:

1. Miguel rarely blinks. When he does he frog blinks. He also takes saint Patrick’s day way too seriously

2. Jessica is one of those people who owns a YT channel dedicated to driving through crosswalks and yelling at pedestrians

3. For the longest time Hobie was disturbed and clueless as to why numerous people within Spider Society kept on stopping to stare blankly at him without moving until he realized they’re just trying to read his newspaper patterns

4. Sometimes people hack into Miguel’s suit and play memes or lets play videos while he’s trying to hold serious discussions

5. Pavitr often posts gym workout edits of himself and flexing in the middle of a Walmart shopping isle with cheesy inspirational quotes

6. Because of their spider DNA almost everyone has interest in knitting/croqueting and feel the need to rearrange everything every now and then for no reason

7. Miles learned how to speak spider and at some nights when he can’t sleep or feels lonely he’ll talk to the spiders that live in his bedroom

8. Gwen does white dad stuff like standing on the front porch with a drink in her hand and going “the sky’s looking a little yellow” during a tornado warning

9. Miguel and Gabriel loved searching for and playing super old games when they were little. They were both very much obsessed with Sims and Spore.

10. LYLA is very much self aware but out of fear of being shut down she pretends not to be. She feels very alone because of this.

11. Sometimes when Miles 1610 and Miles 42 are bored they swap clothes and switch places and wait to see how long it takes before their parents realize they got the wrong sons in their houses.

[beautysamour]

I’ve done the math, there’s no solution.

✧ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: miguel o’hara x reader

✧ 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬: miguel o’hara

✧ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: in every universe you fall in love with miguel o’hara, and in every universe, it doesn’t end well.

✧ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: angst, implied suggestive moment, italicized words in paragraphs mean it’s a flashback

a/n: inspired by that one trend where someone lost who they consider their true love and they say “in another universe we’re (something emotional to them. ex: you have my picture in your wallet).”

Being associated with Spider-Man was a risk in of itself. Wherever Spider-Man went, death followed close by.

“Lyla, make sure to shut everything down before I leave.”

Miguel craned his neck to the side cracking it in the process, he glanced at the digital clock, 6:30. Right on time.

“Ok.”

All of the projectors Miguel was previously watching still surrounds him as the platform began to lower. When it’s a comfortable height from the ground, he jumps off adjusting the tie on his suit that now took place of where his spider suit was.

As he was about to fully exit the room, the sound of a familiar voice paralyzes all the muscle in his body. “Lyla,” he nearly yelled out causing the artificial intelligent being to pause in her movements.

“Not that one. Leave that one on.”

“Uh, ok,” Lyla teleported to another screen not thinking anything of Miguel’ order.

Miguel practically ran over to the screen of where the voice came from, his thoughts growing frantic, it’s you.

He watches as he listens to your laughter, a laughter that he wanted to put into one of his serums so he could inject it into his system, allowing you to take over all of his senses, caused by a version of himself.

“Miguel, stop,” you said in between laughs making no effort to actually push him away, only making an effort to splash him with water and soap.

“Uh, boss,” Lyla popped out from behind the screen, “You’re going to be late if you don’t get going now.”

Miguel blinked remembering what he had plans for. Clearing his throat he nodded to Lyla and continued his way out the building.

—

Miguel was never interested in flowers but he always made sure to buy them for you. On your first date, your favorite flowers were settled in a vase to the side of your table restaurant. He remembers the way you tried to keep your calm as you glanced at the flowers ever few seconds, the way your eyes lit up and the forced control over the corners of your lips that you tried to keep down when ever you looked at the vase.

He almost stole it when you two left the restaurant, and it was at that moment that he knew he fell deep, and there was no way he was going to reach the surface again.

“That’ll be $35.99.”

Miguel had no idea how much money he’s spent at this flower shop, all he knows was that it was your favorite and nothing else mattered after finding that out.

The sun was starting to set and Miguel had everything he needed for your anniversary date. Normally he would still be at the spider society, making sure everything was in check, no anomalies running around in any universe.

He remembers an argument you two got into during your first anniversary. It had been a while since Miguel was in a relationship and he forgot all about what it was like to prioritize himself over work, and in return ended up letting you down.

He wasn’t even sure why it even turned into an argument, it was obvious you were in the right.

“I was in that restaurant for four hours! Four, before it started raining and I come back to you injured?”

Your hair was drenched from the rain, you immediately ran back to your shared place after getting a call from Jess telling you that he refused to get medical treatment. While yes you were upset that he was late to your anniversary dinner, you couldn’t deny that what really set you off was that he got hurt and was planning on throwing on a suit to cover it up.

“Mi vida,” he groaned out not wanting to argue with you. Why couldn’t you understand that he had work?

You seemed to have only gotten more angry, and Miguel braced himself as he watched you come over to him with a cold bag of peas in your hand—ready to catch it only for you to avoid his eyes when you stand in front of him, the feeling of worry and hurt making itself known in your eyes.

You press the bag of peas to his biggest bruise, “Today is our anniversary for getting together. I don’t want it to also be an anniversary for me loosing you.”

Miguel was sure he felt his heart break at your words, guilt finally catching up to him. He took your chin in his hand, tilting it upwards to force you to look into his eyes.

“Perdóname, mi vida,” his eyes softened as they trailed down to your lips, “I didn’t mean to worry you.”

“Yeah? Well, you did,” your voice slightly wavered at the end of your sentence. It wasn’t that you thought him incapable of protecting himself, you just didn’t want to see the day where you would get a call revealing that his skills weren’t enough.

He caresses your check and presses a kiss against your forehead, “From now on, I’ll make sure to communicate a sudden change in plans before leaving, does that sound ok?”

When you gives him a deadpanned stare he forces himself to continue, “I will make sure to leave work early during any special occasions.”

“And not go on any life threatening mission that lead to your stubborn self refusing help before said special occasions? Of course there are exceptions, like if it’s really really bad, but in general.”

He huffed out a laugh, “Yes. That too.”

Your eyebrows furrow as you truly look into his eyes, giving you a wounded look that makes his heart clench, and an indication that you were really taking his words to heart, “Promise?”

“Promise.”

Miguel was never the best with words, he preferred actions above else so when he finds himself unable to tell you how sorry he is, he decides to show it to you.

“Miguel,” you brokenly moaned as the feeling of pleasure built up crumbled upon you, allowing you to reach your peak.

You shivered at the airy breath that hit the skin behind your ears, Miguel’ fingers trailing up your torso leaving a trail of your own doing behind as he littered kisses along the side of your neck.

Your eyes shot open as you felt his fingers trail down your body again, “Cariño,” he sweetly says into your ear, “Let me make it up to you.”

He presses his lips against yours when you try to tell him it’s ok; you forgive him; you don’t have to cum again, but all those thoughts go away when he tugs on your tongue and babbles out the word, “Please.”

Miguel leaves the memory before it becomes too much, the imagery of you in such a debauched manner being too much to handle in public. Luckily he was just a few more blocks before he’d arrive.

The first step is always the hardest, but the next step after the first always seemed a lot more difficult at a place like this.

The flowers by you looked well, of course they did— they were new. Miguel was just here two days ago. He placed the new bouquet of flowers in a vase he brought from your shared home, setting them on the opposite side of where the other bouquet was.

As he brought out a handkerchief from his left pocket he lowered himself down on his knees so he’d be fairly leveled with your gravestone. He looked up and down, left side, right side, behind and in front and dusted off any dust, dirt, and pollen he could find.

Not to his surprise, there was barely any on it—on you.

For a few moments the only thing that would be heard by a person walking by would be the breeze and the sound of tree leaves brushing along one another. It’s only when Miguel realizes something that he speaks.

“I know why all the visits usually reside in silence now, my vida.” He looks at the engraved letters in front of him forming your name, the concept of breathing suddenly feeling uncommon.

“Really? Why,” he could almost here in your voice.

“It’s because you always started the conversations.” He paused, as if waiting for a response— no he was hoping for one. Hoping that he’d suddenly hear your voice from behind him, but he knew it was an imbeciles dream.

That pause lasted for a minute, then five minutes, then forty minutes, then all of a sudden the sun was setting.

The first step is always the hardest, but to Miguel, these last steps of every visit put that very saying to shame.

He’d be back again in a week, and a month, and a year later, and will probably never stop coming back but the other universe he saw today— the one of you and his other self— he felt that he had to get it off his chest now.

“You know, in another universe you’re laughing and splashing me with water as I tickle you.”

He waits again, and only silence gives him a response.

Being associated with Spider-Man was a risk in of itself. Wherever Spider-Man went, death followed close by.

[soobadnoonecanstopher]

Rat Bastard - Part 7

Pairing: You x Kyungsoo 

Rating: M (Mature)

Word Count: 8900

Warnings: There were too many beds, Enemies to Lovers, Slow Burn, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Idiots to Lovers

A/N: I wrote this in less than a day and none of it followed any of the plans I had for this story. This new laptop makes it too easy to write and it might end up adding extra chapters to this fic. Sorry and you’re welcome.

Tag: @ilovemyapopbaby

Links: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8

The silence that sat down atop both of your heads after that door closed tight, leaving you and him completely alone together for the first time in literally forever was about as loud as anything you’d ever experienced. 

Kyungsoo stood just inside of the drab entryway and you had been lingering closer to the hallway that would take you further into the shelter. You watched his face for a while, trying to gauge the mood he would be in to find himself trapped in here with you for at least one night, maybe two if things got wild at the hospital and Mr. Chen wasn’t able to get away as he promised. 

How would he feel about this? The relationship and you used that word strictly for lack of any other word to describe the you and the him, had been strained from the start, downright hostile at times, and only very recently kind of sort of settled into this civil agreement in which you did not antagonize him and he did not antagonize you -- much. 

It wasn’t a friendly relationship for he himself had told you quite brutally last night that he had no interest in being your friend, but lately, with the interactions that had grown just a little bit softer, the chat you’d had with him out on the patio as he made you ramen and teased you about your sexual optimism, the silly time passing game of stating a personal preference between two completely inconsequential things and you found, much to your surprise that you and he shared more than a few minor tastes in common; the fright you had been triggered into with the spiders in the movie and the genuine comfort you felt from him; it felt almost as if something somewhere might be changing. Were you, just as you had been with the threat from the fake spiders, simply imagining the entire thing? 

“Well, shit,” Kyungsoo whispered mostly to himself after the heavy door slammed shut and you looked up into his face to catch the smallest furrow of his brows and the frown of his lips. 

Was this a worst case scenario for him? Trapped alone with the girl he never wanted to be trapped with? Having gone out of his way all those months ago to ditch her on that stupid blind date and she just had to be pathetic enough to pick a fight with him about it, and then about anything and everything she could find to fight about and just when he thought he’d escaped that nightmare of a person she shows up here and not only is she forced upon him by the staff here but now he’s somehow charged with feeding her and entertaining her? You could see it in his face. He looked disappointed as evidenced by the furrow and the frown.

You pulled your arms up and crossed them over your chest, pulling your eyes down and away from that disappointed look you saw in his eyes and you made a deal with yourself then and there; you would not be a burden. You would keep as good a distance as this situation allowed and behave yourself as far as your temper or your tangled feelings for the man were concerned. You wouldn't let it show just how far down this pathetic rabbit hole you’d fallen of uninvited attraction and unrequited love. You’d treat him with disinterest, maybe casual civility that a shop worker would get, or that old man at the grocery store who made a friendly joke about the price of eggs and you provided the required perfunctory laugh at exactly the right pitch and tone to be deemed socially acceptable. That was what you would do, you would perform as expected by society in such a situation. 

It wasn’t his fault that you’d allowed this little crush to fester deep inside your stomach; and for a man who didn’t even desire friendship from you. It wasn’t the first time you’d let your heart run away with your mind. It didn’t have to happen with this man. 

You felt a slight burning in your stomach, just below your breastplate and you placed a palm over the space where you felt the pain. You knew enough about your body to recognize that you were just feeling the aftereffects from the panic from earlier. It always came as an upset stomach that burned and ached usually for hours after your heightened emotions had run their course. 

“What is it?” You hadn’t expected his attention but he must have seen your hand sink down hard just over the space at the top of your stomach. He must have noticed the look of discomfort on your face that you quickly blanked away with the drop of your hand. 

“Nothing,” you said flatly dropping the subject entirely before he had a chance to probe or suspect more of you and you lifted a hand to half shrug into the air, “umm… did you want to finish the movie or … maybe play another game?”

His lips parted and he closed them up, his eyes briefly leaving your face and glancing behind you into the dark hallway from where you both had come. 

When he didn’t answer you right away you inhaled to speak again, before you sounded like his own liability that he had to deal with, “you don’t have to do either, if you don’t want to. I don’t need you to entertain me or anything, I can figure something out for myself if you just want to be alone.”

You’d already spun on your heels, determined with your newfound resolve to be exactly as aloof and unaffected by anything he said or did as required by society to keep the peace; taking the first few steps away from him and turning back toward the dim light from the open kitchen door that you could barely make out as a direction in which you should travel.

“We could,” the first sounds of his voice stopped your steps and you turned your face in his direction, not committing to turning around the whole way, “play something, if you want.” 

“Not Monopoly again, I swear to God,” you said with a finger lifted into the air and you heard the soft chuckle that came from behind you. 

“Awww, my little Princess didn’t like the bitter taste of defeat?” You could hear the joking tone in his voice and weirdly that strong feeling of uncertainty you’d felt only moments earlier seemed to change with the teasing tone he used with you. Changed into what? You wouldn’t say, but it was only a slightly more comfortable feeling. There was a burning sensation just under the skin below your cheekbones and you thanked whatever god was responsible for putting you in this darkened hallway during this moment for the cover that would keep the blush from being noticed by him. You were imagining the softness you heard in that nickname. This man did not hold any affection for you. 

Inside the kitchen you returned to the familiar set up that you had left, only it felt wildly different. Gone was the soft comfy feeling of the mattresses on the floor, the pillows set up at your back and the fluffy down winner’s blanket sat in a tangled clump on the floor beside the bed that you both had occupied. The briefest of thoughts flittered by -- would you be able to smell him in it now? That clean, crisp fragrance he seemed to carry with him, would those microscopic molecules be wound into the spaces in between your one thousand threads ready to drift inside of your nose, bringing you back to the moment below the blanket when his fingers intertwined between your own and he held your hand, keeping you grounded and still connected to this world. The comfort he had given you then, but why? To keep you from embarrassing yourself or maybe him? You couldn't find the reasoning for it anywhere inside of you, but this wouldn't be the first time that man did something you couldn't understand. 

The burning was back. You had an absentminded hand running over the spot on your belly and your feet carried you to the spot beside the fridge where the water bottles sat. You ‘d seen an electric kettle there and you busied yourself grabbing a mug and heating the water. Behind you, Kyungsoo was looking through the games again, trying to find something that he could no doubt destroy you with again. Your heart wasn’t in the fight this time, you felt too distracted. 

The water was heated and you poured some into a cup, finding that plain hot water always soothed your stomach the best and you returned to his side to peer over his shoulder holding your mug. 

He glanced over at you and down at the mug, making no comment about either, and then he held up a game. It was your game. It was the first game, a word game you’d picked to play with a nostalgic and hopeful glint in your eye. 

“We can play this one, if you want,” he said with a bit of a whisper as if you two weren’t the only ones in this entire building, “it’s still fun even with only two people.”

You nodded and took a seat near him but not close enough so he could cheat and look at your letters and he quietly set up the game, not once looking directly at your face for too long apart from the smallest of brushes with his eyes into yours as he handed you bits and pieces for the game. 

You settled into your seat and took a good long look at the letters you had to pick from, picking a few up and shuffling them to see if you could come up with something good and after a few moments you settled on something that was actually pretty decent, especially for the first round. The realization pulled a small smile to your face and you grabbed the letters to place them on the board. He’d already told you that you could go first and as you began placing your tiles on the board you looked up to find that he was watching you, of course he was; you were playing the first word. This word would determine what he could or couldn’t play from his letters. 

You played your word and did the math, giving yourself a nice start with 20 points and you wrote down the number on the pad of paper and looking up at him expectantly. You had expected him to be paying attention to the word, to be impressed by your intelligence. You had managed to spell that word on your very first go. You had expected him to feel thoroughly challenged by the force he had to reckon with. 

He sat there though, his eyes watching you but something about his mind seemed disconnected from the game. Your smile at your own move slipped just a little bit, falling flat because he hadn’t even looked at the word you played yet. He just sat there with his shoulders relaxed, his unshuffled letters sitting there in front of him, he didn't even have his fingers on them, rearranging and thinking as you would have expected. He just sat there -- it was odd. You lifted your chin and wiggled your head, lifting your eyebrows and you heard an inhale as he took a deep breath and exhaled as he slowly pushed the air through his lips and when he was empty his eyes closed up. He gave his head a little shake back and forth and finally, finally his eyes left your face. 

Finally he was looking down. 

“Oh you played that, hmm,” you heard him mumble and he was back. All at once, his fingers were touching lightly over his letters, picking some up, moving them, shoving some aside, actually thinking about the game in front of him instead of whatever in the world he had been so distracted by. 

You lifted your mug and took a sip, feeling the warmth of the hot water warm the inside of your stomach a little bit. The pain was still there even after another sip and you looked down at the mix of letters you had thinking of what word you might play next. You adjusted your posture some, lifting a hand to rub just below your breastplate again, wishing that knot would just go down and be done so you could win this game already. 

Kyungsoo had played his word, counted out his points, and wrote a sad little 16 under his name. You were already winning. The self-satisfied smile was back, it had replaced the wince on your face when you realized you already had your next word. You played it quickly and tallied up your numbers. 24 -- He really didn’t stand a chance. 

You heard the scrape of chair legs and the sound pulled your attention up to the man who was standing up and walking away from you toward the kitchen cabinets at the back wall. 

“It’s your turn, Kyungsoo,” you called toward his retreating back. 

“I know, I’m just getting something real quick,” he called without looking back at you and you heard him inside the fridge, heard him pulling something out and he was slicing something with a knife on a board. The kettle was going again and you heard a metal spoon hitting porcelain as he stirred something into a cup. 

He was back quickly with two mugs in his hand and when he returned to your side he’d place one of the mugs in front of you. 

The color of the water inside the cup was a pale yellow and you saw a single disc of sliced ginger floating on the surface. You could see the string and tab from a tea bag in his mug. 

“Honey and ginger,” he said as he busied himself with playing a word on the board game, “for your stomach,” he added as if you’d made an announcement at the start of your game that your stomach was hurting and he was just responding to that. 

You hadn’t said a single thing to him about it. In fact, you had thought you were doing a pretty good job hiding it from him. You hadn’t let him see you frown or groan or cry out in pain once. The worst you did was lightly massage the space where it hurt the most. 

You lifted his offering to your lips and took a sip expecting it to be too hot for you to drink comfortably and finding the temperature rather mild actually. You took another bigger sip and felt the soothing warmth slip into you. It was sweet with the honey he added and slightly spicy from the fresh ginger he’d added. It was delicious. You’d never tried this for your stomach aches before but it seemed to actually be helping. You took another sip and swallowed, finding that the burning lessened with each sip you took. 

Kyungsoo silently played a word and you watched his mouth moving as he added up his points and wrote down his score of 20. 

You smiled widely. He had just played the letter you needed to play your next word and with the orientation of the word you would be able to get the bonus points. You were already laying your letters out on the board and counting out your points before he’d even had a chance to replace the letters he’d used on the last word. 

“Oh come on, what? You gotta give me a chance to catch you,” he groaned in annoyance that didn’t really seem to sink too deep into him for him to really mean it. You could still see the smile on the edges of his mouth and in his eyes. You did a little victory wiggle in your seat, wrote down 50 points under your name, and even stuck your tongue out at him with a giggle. His eyes slipped down your face and his lips had been pulled into a smile, despite the fact that he was losing this game miserably. 

He pulled his head back a little bit and looked up into the air above his head. A quick glance at his pieces told you he still needed to replace letters and so you held up the bag with the open end toward him. He was still sulking about the heavy blow and you had to reach out to touch your fingertips over the back of his warm hand to get his attention. You gave the bag a little shake and you had his eyes in yours again as he reached into the bag, pulling out tiles and groaning at the letters the universe had decided to give him. 

“Ugh,” he was groaning with each new letter he pulled out. His eyes darted over the game board and occasionally slipped back up into yours, probably because you had been watching him for signs that he had something good to play. It didn’t seem like he did. 

“Blegh,” he made a disgusted sound,  complaining again. “What am I going to do? What do I do, what do I do?” he repeated to himself as he pondered his brand new fate as a loser of this game. 

In his hand, he held only two tiles and he hovered lightly over a space on the board. You giggled when he set them down. It was the saddest word you’d seen in a while. 

“You’re going to have to do better than that if you want to beat me, Kyungsoo,” you sing-songed playfully watching him spell out the word ‘SEE’ for only 5 points.

His hand moved and he spun his letters around, showing you very quickly the hand he had. You saw a slew of vowels, mostly the letter E and everyone’s least favorite burden a single solitary X. 

You were openly laughing at him now. His cheeks were pink and he was reaching into the bag to select his replacement letters and when he pulled them out he tossed them in disgust. They both landed flat on the table, face up with a clatter. He had thrown them there. You looked down to see two more Es and the sight threw you back into a noisy fit of laughter that seemed to be catching. You could hear him giggling beside you and he gripped the Es in his fingertips and tried to put them back into the bag. You snatched it up quickly and held the bag of letters out of his reach so he couldn't cheat and put them back in. 

“No no,” you gasped through the giggles, “Think of words with lots of Es like meet, umm, teeth, f-feet,” you said through a strained voice and you were laughing again at the look he shot you at the mention of the words that brought up a very recent sore memory for him. 

“Teeth and feet?” He said with his eyes wide, “You really brought that up again?” He exhaled through his teeth, his lips pulled wide in frustration. He was leaning now, reaching desperately past your game pieces to where you still kept the bag of letters out of his reach to keep him from cheating, even though you were pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to catch up with you even if he replaced all of his letters now. He had scooted his chair closer to you and you reached for his desperate hand, gripping around his fingers and pulling his hand down into your lap, holding it tightly there and leaning into him to help you gain some leverage against him. He was quite strong when he wanted to be but he seemed to be letting you hold him back like this. He definitely wasn’t putting his all into this struggle against you. Something was off with him. Kyungsoo had never held back on that chance to be terrible with you before. 

Instead, he had moved in too close to you and after the small playful struggle, you felt the warmth of him all over you. You had been giggling as he reached out with his other hand, reaching again for the bag of letters you held out of his reach and you felt the tips of his fingers wrap around your wrist and he pulled your arm down. It was a bit of a stalemate and you heard the soft laughter from him settle and go curiously still, when you opened your eyes you found his face in front of yours. You had his hand inside of yours down on your lap right over your thigh and he held your other hand with his fingers wrapped tightly around your wrist.  You hadn’t expected this level of closeness from him, the shock you felt radiating through your chest had taken the laughter out of your voice and left you stunned in a frozen silence instead. 

You suddenly felt hyper-aware of your own body. He was so close to you, that you wondered if he was able to hear how noisily your heart was pounding inside of your chest, or if he could hear the stuttered way your breathing moved in and out of your lungs. 

God, he was beautiful up close. His skin was clear and he had a scattering of tiny moles all over. The small freckle in his upper lip seemed to have a presence all of its own and you struggled to look away from him. Your eyes roamed over the length of his face. He had long since stopped laughing and he had even stopped reaching for the bag, stopped struggling against your hands and he was watching you with slow blinking wandering eyes over your face that seemed to settle again heavy and deep inside of your eyes. 

You exhaled a breath you had been holding through your parted mouth and his eyes slipped down to look at your mouth when you moved. This was something. Something was happening here. Something that shouldn’t exist with the intense animosity he’s always felt for you. Something between you and something between him. You could feel it in the way your skin flushed, the blood in your body seemed to seek refuge in some place that wasn’t in your veins. You found it difficult to breathe with him so close and those eyes of his didn’t let up, they didn’t let you go, you felt so much more trapped here in his eyes than ever before. Your ears picked up on the smallest grunt of effort from somewhere in the back of his throat, then the smallest inhale of breath lifted his lungs, and finally, finally, he closed his eyes.

“I think I’ve lost this game,” he whispered through closed eyes with a sudden tight clench of his jaw. 

He was leaning. He was moving. You watched the sway of his balance and he moved closer to you, impossibly closer and the fingers he’d wrapped around your wrist released their hold, that hand was moving. You felt the first tiny touches of his fingertips as he moved his hand to touch your face lightly and achingly slowly along your jawline. You felt as if you could burst into flames at any second and judging by the heavy puffs of air that left his lungs, something similar was happening to him too. 

He leaned into you, close enough for a kiss but something stopped him. You felt and saw the lean though. He pulled back half a centimeter and it felt like he was at war with himself. 

You watched his face as he did it. His eyes, he kept them closed up as tightly as he could and the hard clench of his jaw did not let up. 

He was touching you though. His hand had moved and his thumb brushed lightly over your bottom lip and his fingertips dug in behind your ear. His other hand, the one that you held in your lap had moved too and you felt a squeeze from his fingers as he clenched tightly around your hand. 

Everything about him was tense. His jaw, his hands, his eyes squeezed shut tightly. 

This man was very purposefully attempting to regain control of himself and resist whatever it was he was feeling by being this close to you, by you touching him, and by him touching you. Your own self-control felt thready. How easily you could snap in two. How flimsy your resolve had grown around him. 

You’d long since dropped the bag of letters. You felt the need for the warmth of his soft skin under your fingertips. So you reached for his face, delighting in wonder at the smoothness your fingertips traveled over, even with the hard clench of his jaw he felt so warm and inviting and he was still so very close to you. He smelled so good, it was overwhelming. You wanted him. 

He was so very close; close enough for you to feel every quick burst of air that came from his nose against your lips, close enough for you to so easily lean your face into his and press your lips up against the softness of his mouth.

So you did it, you did it -- you leaned into him and you kissed him on the lips, relishing in the softness you felt when his lips gave into yours so, so easily, it seemed to come like second nature when you had actually worked up the nerve to do it. 

There were almost imperceivable changes in him when you did it; when you kissed him. The hard clench in his jaw let up with the soft grunt of surprise that came from the back of his throat and in his hands; the loosening of the tight grip he held you with on your face as he simply let go of you entirely for the first few seconds of this kiss from you. 

The next change was less subtle, you felt the careful way he caved to your lips. The tilt of his head paired with the parting of his jaw and he leaned into you further, pulling your soft bottom lip into his mouth then pulling you again, your upper lip. When he moved again you felt the tip of his wet tongue guide along your teeth and reach for yours with that same suction he had pulled against you which you gave to him, giving him what he wanted, feeling very much out of control now with greedy the way he sucked on your tongue. The kiss was too much in an instant. The undeniable attraction you felt for this man had taken every bit of rational thought and tossed it out the window, carrying them all away with the wind outside. 

His mouth and teeth and tongue nipped inside of your mouth, pulling at your lips and he was moving, peppering tiny kisses, bites, and nibbles along your jawline as he moved lower to taste the skin below your ear. 

You reached for him again, reaching a hand forward for his waist and lower, you’d lost your mind when you touched near his belt, slipping the tips of your fingertips in between the denim fabric and feeling along the elastic waistband of his underwear. Feeling the very clear bump of his arousal and the warmth of his skin there.

His hand flew up to stop you and you heard the soft groan that came from his chest against his will. You could feel your labored breathing taking your chest and heaving it up and you shook your head back and forth at the nerve he had to stop you. You wanted him, you wanted the sex. You were beginning to feel desperate for him. 

Kyungsoo leaned his forehead against yours and his hands now had a strong ironclad grip on your wandering hands. You felt the very slight movement of his face back and forth. 

No. 

He was telling you no. 

You had to take a genuine moment to absorb it. He was telling you no. You closed your eyes and inhaled a deep breath and you inhaled the no, the refusal, the rejection took its time coming at you slowly in a big old sluggish wave and your breathing was beginning to calm down now. 

“Kyungsoo?” You called out lightly, feeling just a bit upset and even more confused as to why he would have kissed you back so intensely if he didn’t want this. 

“I,” he opened his mouth and pulled his head back, “I don’t—” his words were broken, staggered, and fractured, “I couldn’t live with myself.”

“You don’t want me like that.” It wasn’t a question. You weren’t asking him a damn thing. It was a stark realization that you had simply misread his actions as affection. 

“I don’t mean that,” he began, his voice clearer and with slightly more urgency than the staggered speech from earlier, he inhaled and swallowed, licking his lips as his eyes searched over your face. 

“I don’t do that lightly,” he exhaled and furrowed his brows, narrowing his eyes and looking into your face again, “I’ve never slept with someone outside of a relationship. I don’t do it. This can’t happen. We aren’t going to have sex.” 

He had released his tight grip on your hands now that his reasoning was out and you sat there feeling just a little bit foolish for having jumped so quickly straight to sex. You felt the embarrassment hit you hard and you closed your eyes through it and shook your head, straightening your back and removing your hands from within his fingers and pulling them back toward you as you carefully busied yourself with straightening your shirt back out. This felt awful. You reached down for the mug with the now cold ginger honey water and you downed the remains quickly, hoping that some of that sweet honey might coat your insides and soothe your fractured ego while it was at it. 

You felt the softness of his hand land over yours when you put the mug back down and you looked down at it, his hand covering over yours. You could feel it then, he was asking you to look at him. You had been embarrassed by the rejection and had been busying yourself with literally anything that wasn’t him. He’d given you time to process it and to get yourself under control before calling your attention again with the softest and most gentle pull of just the warmth of his hand on yours. You signed deeply, willing all of that oxygen to fill your lungs and power your brain well, and after what felt like several inescapable seconds passed you looked up into his face. 

He was watching you, no words on his lips and a slow and steady blinking of his eyes.

You swallowed before you spoke, “I get it,” you said plainly, biting down on your lip once before you continued, “I understand. You don't sleep around. I sleep around. You and I aren’t the same.” 

His lips parted and his eyes rolled over his face once before they sank back down heavy inside of yours. He inhaled a breath, clearly ready to counter your words. You knew you were misinterpreting his meaning. It wasn't even as if he’d called you a slut or anything, but goddammit that recent discovery of his. Him having found your 20-pack of condoms in your bag; you couldn't help but compare them to the single 5-pack he brought which he probably never even had any intention of using in the first place when you had every intention of using some of those condoms on this retreat. You would be goddamned if you didn’t get laid at least once on this trip. It had been so long for you, that you needed something from someone that made you feel desired and attractive to another human being. 

“You know,” he was speaking, his eyes had drifted closed and he was having trouble getting the words out again. Maybe he was about to tell you he was on his way to pray for your forgiveness for being such a slut. 

“You already know how I feel about you,” he whispered and pulled his eyes open. 

You looked at his face for a moment before your eyes wandered over the space above his head; giving the smallest head shake as a reply. Not really. He hated you for one minute. He laughed at you and teased you another minute. He made you ramen and tasty honey tea to soothe your upset stomach and beat you mercilessly at Monopoly but his cold hard facade fell apart when you teased him back. He was a mystery to you, whenever you thought you had figured something out about him, he would pull out the rug from under you and swear that no matter how desperate you were for it he would specifically not ever sleep with you. You felt that same familiar pain in your stomach flare up again. You hissed through it and inhaled a small gasp, doing your best to keep your reaction under wraps. 

His eyes narrowed and he dropped his chin, “you must know,” he said again, “you already know.” 

You must have flinched somewhere in your face. Those knowing eyes of his caught it and his head ticked as his eyes moved over you again. 

“How could I know anything?” You were beginning to feel like you should go lie down. You even felt a tiny bit dizzy the more you stayed here just withstanding this. Maybe a warm shower would help. 

“Sara told you. You know everything.” he threw his head back and looked up at the ceiling above his head. He had a sort of exasperated expression on his face now and you tried to focus on this conversation but you’d already been through enough of it. 

What had Sara told you? She had been so excited about every little interaction between the two of you that her words had been too exaggerated and overly dramatic to be able to trust what she said. Your mind flew through her words to you about him. About him saying how pretty you were. So what if you were pretty. The man hated you. He hated you. Her words, were a distant memory now even though it had only been a couple of hours since she said them. 

‘The way he looks at you -- If I didn't know that he was desperately in love with you, I’d think he was trying to set you on fire with his eyes -- he was desperately in love with you -- he is desperately in love with you.’

It was impossible. Sara was wrong. This man did not love you. He couldn’t love someone like you. 

Doh Kyungsoo had just rejected you for the third time now. The first when he stood you up on the date, leaving you to stew in the rejection, publicly calling you out amongst your best friends about it, basically ridiculing you again and again for your stupidity; how dare you really think someone like him could ever actually be interested in someone like you. The second rejection was shallower, the way he treated you when he found out you were here with him. You had the audacity to show up here and play pretend like you belonged here beside him; going so far as to reject even your offer of friendship, the lowest form of acquaintance and even that he didn't want. And now, reminding you of just how little he thought of you. 

He didn’t sleep with people he wasn’t in a relationship with. You’d offered yourself so easily to the man, practically begged for it but again, you received another rejection. 

Wasn't there a point in which you should give up on this? 

“I don't know anything, Kyungsoo. I don't even know you, remember? We never really even met each other.” You said it with such finality that his lips closed up and he pulled his head back. He seemed taken aback by the force with which you said those words to him. You stood up, done with this. There was only so much you could take. That surprised look on his face from earlier had flattened out and he was staring ahead of himself, not looking up at you. 

You stood there looking down at him for much longer than your pride should have allowed. Watching him staring ahead of himself with his silent lips and his bright red ears, his chest heaving up and down as if all of the emotions bubbling just below the surface of him could ever presume to break through that thick outer shell of a man who keeps everything inside when he should have just let it out. Goddammit Kyungsoo. But he wouldn’t move. He wouldn’t explain and he sure as hell wasn’t about to try any more than absolutely necessary with you. You’d been the one to put yourself out there again and again for this man. You felt let down. 

“I’m going to shower and lie down for a while.” 

You took the first steps to leave, to walk past him and you’d made it three whole steps toward the door when you felt the warmth and strength of his hand wrapped tightly around your wrist, pulling you back. He pulled you back roughly. You had been moving forward with such a momentum that the break in your stride caused you to stumble backward and you yelped out in surprise finding yourself pulled into him, pulled to where he still sat uselessly in that chair and the rough yank on your wrist sent you moving until you collided with a resisting barrier.

You stumbled on your feet and you bounced against him and the second you collided with him you felt the strength of his arms wrapping tightly around your waist. You felt the push of his firm chest hit against your thighs and in your belly you felt the point of his nose as he buried his entire face within your shirt, just below your ribs deep, within the softness of your belly. It tickled uncomfortably but you felt too stunned to do anything. You looked down in shock, seeing only the top of his head, his soft black hair fell into the fabric of your shirt and from his mouth somewhere you heard the softest moan that reverberated through your body. 

For lack of anywhere else to put them you rested your hands on his shoulders and you heard and felt him make another sound, a rough growl from his chest sounded out into your skin, buzzing into the skin of your stomach and his hands around your waist tightened to uncomfortable levels. He inhaled a deep breath from somewhere in the center of you and you found some semblance of some words to say. 

“Kyungsoo, what,” you began but his hot exhale warmed you on the exit and sent goosebumps cascading down your spine, taking whatever words you thought you could speak. After several breaths he lifted his face, propping his chin right against your skin to look up into your stunned and confused face. 

“What are you doing?” you managed. You felt too blindsided for more.

“Get to know me then,” he whispered up into the air and you wiggled against the tightness you felt in his arms matching the crazed look you saw in his eyes. He did not loosen them any, “get to know me, until you understand how I feel about you.” 

This didn’t feel real. It was impossible that this was happening. Was he serious? 

Your mind was spinning. You couldn’t reconcile the two versions of Doh Kyungsoo you were witnessing. The desperate way he clung to you told you one thing and yet, so much bad had already happened to tell you the complete opposite. This version clearly hadn't listened to a damn thing the other one had just told you. This one didn’t know about the no sex before commitment rule, the one that had his chance and squandered it, humiliating you in the process. But as tightly as you were wound here within his arms; you could feel your body responding to him all over again. You’d already been too affected by him before.

His eyes were looking up at you and you could just barely make out the tiny pout on his lips that was hiding within the fabric. 

Maybe he was drunk. Maybe that mug he had been sipping from had been full of whiskey instead of tea and this man was off his head right now. 

“What are you talking about?” 

He was moving with the question you hung into the air above his head. You could feel the slow way he moved his face, pressing himself against the softness of your belly again, breathing you in slowly and deeply as if every bit of sanity had simply left his body and this was a madman whose only purpose was to drive you as crazy as he was. 

“You know for someone who doesn’t want to fuck me, you are doing a terrible job of letting me leave this room.” 

Your own bluntness surprised you but you’d expected him to wake the hell up and release you so you could go take care of this problem he’d caused. 

“I never said I don’t want to fuck you.” He whispered it with his face hidden deep within the skin of your belly but the words echoed inside of you, hitting you hard with their heavy impact. 

The man was a menace. He’d just turned you down only to do this to you? You felt so turned on you almost couldn’t keep upright.  

You braced both of your hands on his shoulders and you pushed against him hard, pushing your hips backward too until he got the message and loosened his hold around you. The release allowed you to take a step back. His hands still lingered around you and you even felt one of his hot palms lying right over your ass, having slipped down from your waist he didn’t seem to be in too big of a hurry to take his wandering hands off of you. 

“Sorry, sorry,” his immediate apology told you that he knew exactly what sins he had committed against you, “I’m not in my right mind.”

You reached behind you and grabbed his hand off of your ass and brought it back around, dropping it down on his own lap. It landed with a flop in his lap and his eyes pulled deservedly down as he took on a much more sheepish expression in his face. You couldn’t tell if it was genuine. 

“You say one thing and do another, Doh Kyungsoo.”  

You felt ready to snap. “You say we won’t have sex, and that’s fine. I’m fine with that,” you said through wild eyes and even though you managed to get the words out, it felt like a lie. You weren’t fine with that. This hot piece of ass needed to figure himself out and in a hurry because you weren’t sure how much more of his torture you could take. 

“You seem fine with it,” you heard him mumble under his breath and your eyes widened as you lifted your eyebrows and looked at him. He lifted a hand and waved it lightly, “Sorry, continue.” 

“I was fine with it until you,” you lifted your arms and wrapped them around your body, doing a speed-run pantomime of him grabbing you around the waist, hugging you tightly and you even ran your fingers over the entire length of his face lightly, jumping back in pure frustration, “did all that to me, Kyungsoo. What the fuck?” 

The man who sat in front of you with his forearms crossed strategically over his lap ‘just so’ dared to smile at you. It was a tiny smile but you lifted a finger and pointed right at his face with a frustrated gasp. Again his smile, impossibly, widened.

“I am going to go take a shower. And I am going to lie down.” These words came out in a low growl. “I better not see you standing at that bathroom doorway.”

You’d spun on your heels for the second time to walk away from this man and you nearly screamed when you felt his hand reach for you again. This time he was standing up and you lifted your own hand in an 'I swear to god, give me a reason’ pose, enjoying how quickly he flinched away from you. 

“Wait, wait” he quickly spoke, not wanting to get smacked. You decided then and there that you weren’t above doing it. The memory of last night's tit punch was still fresh in your mind and you were feeling almost crazy enough to do it. 

“Just wait, goddammit,” he had the nerve to sound annoyed. He actually reached up and grabbed your raised hand and carefully brought it back down. “Come back later. Later tonight, give me like two hours maybe.” 

“What happens in two hours?” your eyes narrowed and your lips pouted just a little bit with the suggestive tilt of your head as your mind whirled through the possibilities. Did he just need two hours to decide that maybe you were worth a round or 20 of pressing your back into your mattress, or maybe his mattress? Hell, four mattresses were lying over there on the floor where the movies had been showing, you were not that picky. Literally this table here would suffice. Your face must have betrayed your filthy thoughts because he squeezed your hand and you heard a tiny laugh break free from him. 

He was laughing through his words, “Dinner. Just dinner with me. God, will you relax, please?”

His proposal sounded promising. Your eyebrows were lifted in curiosity without you even realizing it you eked out a tiny question for him.

“Like…a dinner date?” This sent a strange wave of panic through you. The tiny smile on his face and the little hum he made as a response sent butterflies flying. You felt at odds with the strange burst of nerves. The idea of having an actual date with this man was, well — you’d never once considered a re-do with him. Back then you’d been so offended, so humiliated, and so angry that the last thing you wanted was to give him a second chance. After a while, you’d even run out of any desire for him to explain himself for what he did back then. 

Perhaps a make-up for that botched blind date all those months ago that started all of this trouble was the kind of thing your heart craved deep down inside. You suddenly felt nervous. Sex was one thing but a date with him? Sex was just physical but starting this over again, a date with Kyungsoo felt too vulnerable. Why was that so much scarier to you? 

What if he didn’t show up? 

Wait, he was trapped here and he was the one doing the cooking. Plus if he didn't show up, you knew where you could find him. You’d beat down the door and kick his ass as long as he was hiding away in one of the rooms here that didn't have any spiders. 

His eyebrows lifted and the smile he was wearing on his lips was gone. 

“You don’t want to?” He asked the question and left his lips hanging open. You could see on his face that despite the false bravado he wore when he proposed the date, to begin with, he also was feeling a lot of the same nerves about it that you felt. His focus on your face was flighty, not quite able to commit to solid eye contact with you with this heavy question handing in the air like this. 

“Okay,” you finally answered in a whisper and you closed up your mouth and nodded your head up and down twice. 

Kyungsoo’s eyes watched your face and you caught him mirroring the same head nod. “Okay,” he also whispered. 

You nodded again and he was quiet as he looked at you, eventually looking away from you and looking around the kitchen space with a small exhale of air through his mouth. He didn’t move, but what was even worse was that you also did not move. You weren’t sure how to do it.

Oh. Oh no. Oh no this was awkward. Did you just say goodbye and walk away? Did you give him, like, a high five or maybe lean into him for a hug, God that would be terrible, Imagine? A hug, thanks buddy, thanks pal, thanks for letting me make out with you, sorry to freak you out when I got too into it and touched your boner because apparently that is a no-touchy zone, I did not get the memo about the boner. Should you lean in and give him a kiss on the cheek? How did you leave this situation with at least one-fourth of your dignity, an acceptable amount for someone with your history of humiliating yourself, still intact? 

The kiss on the cheek might be okay, right? His cheeks were soft and his skin was smooth. You took the smallest step into him and you leaned in for it, but oh god, he was moving already. You leaned at the exact same moment that he spun around on his feet and began to walk away from you toward the doorway that led toward the bunk beds, which would have been completely fine except for the fact that he had seen you beginning to lean into him right before he moved. He had seen you move, he had seen you lean, but his feet had already stepped, his body had already begun the exit process and what resulted was a terrible, awful, awkward time in which he stopped walking abruptly and turned back around to face you, halfway toward the doorway, stuck somewhere in the middle of this kitchen with him again facing you and neither of you wanting to explain to each other with words why the journey to the exit had been halted so abruptly. 

“No,” you shook your head back and forth. His face was pink again. “No, just go. You already ruined it.” 

“What were you going to do?” 

“Doesn't matter. It’s over.” You sidestepped him and moved quickly through the space, placing your handle on the kitchen door and pulling it open. You hurled yourself into the darkness of the hallway, feeling just a tiny bit of irritation at the realization that you could still hear the sound of his footsteps very clearly. He hadn’t stayed behind in that kitchen but he seemed to be following you down the hallway toward the room with your bunks. 

“You were leaning, what were you leaning for?” 

“Why are you following me? I have things to do. Alone, Kyungsoo.” You emphasized the last bit while looking directly into his eyes and he was fighting his smile a little but he didn’t seem to stop following you until you reached the door to the bunks and stopped to look at him with your hand on the door handle. 

“I just need to get my bag. Then you can have the place to yourself.” He was already pushing past you, rushing through the room toward the bed in the back and he was grabbing a black duffel that he slung over his shoulder and he made quick work of the distance with his quick walking reaching the space in the doorway that you still occupied in no time. 

When he was back at your side you moved inside the room to give him room for his exit but before he disappeared through the doorway you caught an abrupt shift in his balance. When he was close enough he leaned into you and pressed his soft lips against your cheek, lingering against your skin for one second too long before he pulled back again and looked into your eyes. Admittedly, you hadn’t expected that at all and you had closed your eyes halfway through the lingering part and you had to act quickly to open your eyes up in time so as not to miss the smoldering look part. 

“Now, wouldn’t that have been awkward to do back in the kitchen when I was going to come all the way over here the whole time?” 

You’d opened your mouth and inhaled a breath to respond to him. You would have lied and told him that you weren’t going to kiss him in the kitchen, or that he was imagining things again, or maybe you would lie and say you took it back and you didn’t want to have sex with him ever. He had already disappeared and the heavy door slammed shut before you had a chance to think of a clever comeback. 

Links: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8

[thesunfyre4446]

Rhaenys reaction to Corlys infidelity is so disappointing. This wasn’t Corlys sleeping with some whore, barmaid or camp follower once. Corlys had an actual bond and prolonged relationship with this woman. He made a baby with her and then did it again. He was playing house with her and the babies for a time.

Rhaenys is now childless, she lost her 2 children- really because of Corlys ambitions. Then she sees that Corlys has 2 more children? She should’ve raged.

Rhaenys is way more passive than she and team black accuse Alicent of being. In the end there’s nothing a woman can do about her husband’s infidelity and bastards in their society like divorce. They have rights over your body, you can’t withhold sex. The only thing she is allowed is to show her displeasure and anger about the situation and fans are applauding Rhaenys for not embracing that tiny bit of resistance??

The writers fail every time they refuse to let team black have any inner conflict when they have just as many issues as the greens. Everything is solved by good faith and some self righteous speech.

Everything must be neatly packaged with a bow on top by the end of the episode, while they have TG carrying generational trauma and several ongoing plot.

I suppose Jace’s issue with Rhaenyra is solved because she told him that irrelevant ass bedtime story that will soon be lost to history. He’s now a grown man and his mother has never had an honest discussion about his father’s. There is no anger or resentment towards her for the situation she put him and his brothers in. Team Black collectively blame Alicent more for not pretending to be blind than they do Rhaenyra for making an immensely dangerous decision 3 times, 1 time was after an 8 year age gap.

Rhaena now fully accepts her claim to Driftmark died with the pretender Luke. She’s now reconsidered her original feelings about becoming a nursemaid to Rhaenyra and her father’s children (because Rhaena is never treated like family, Rhaenyra never appeals to her by calling them her brothers. Poor Rhaena has had to live the last 6 years of her life as an outsider looking in on her “family”) because Rhaenyra gave her a task to make her more pliant and agreeable like you do with little kids when you hand them a shopping list because you want them to behave and stay out of the way.

Daemyra isn’t even over, he is still tb’s tortured misunderstood devoted malewife “babygirl”. Eventually Daemyra will reunite and talk about twin flames, burning together, a dragon alone in the world or some fake deep shit like that. Rhaenyra is going to accept him back into her heart. He’ll be magically cured of his jealousy and tendency towards domestic violence because Alys sent him some dreams at Harrenhal. While on the other side you have Alicole taking the blame from the writers and the fandom for the murder of their grandchild that Babygirl- Daemon had committed, entrenched in Catholic guilt, fucking and fighting and having secret abortions.

This is why watching team black scenes is like watching white paint drip down a wall. When a team black scene comes on, I can look away from the screen, have a conversation, go online shopping, zone out a little and answer texts or scroll the socials.

They’re dreadfully boring. I saw something yesterday that I never thought I would see from team righteous. The comment section of a promo video HBO posted on IG, a lot of people who said they are team black admitting to finding team green characters more interesting because they have flaws. Saying that they enjoy team green scenes more because the blacks are boring.

literally why i'm team green. anon ATE and left no crumbs. that was amazing please let's be mutuals

[endlessmusings1801]

-Nancy means it when she said that Dustin was always her favorite. She's always had soft spot for a kid with curiosity.

-Steve let the kids sneak into movies anytime he was on shift. At least he knew where they were when they were there.

-The party learns not to scare each other. When you've been through what they have, there's way too much PTSD for that. Lucas getting sprayed in the face wasn't the only time someone got violent.

-Missing scenes: the time in between where Steve is the ultimate babysitter. He's adopted these kids. They are his. He knows it. They know it.

-Steve lifeguarded every summer, except the summer he worked at scoops ahoy. When he found out Billy was working there now, he knew he couldn't spend the summer with him. His Dad wasn't going to let him not have a job. The only place that had a last minute opening was an ice cream shop owned by a friend of Steve's Dad....scoops ahoy. At least at the mall, he can keep an eye on the kids.

-Steve has dyslexia. Dustin helps him figure it out first. Once Dustin helps him get tools, he doesn't feel so stupid.

-Nancy talks to younger women reporters about her time at the Hawkins Post. She then brings it up during the Me Too movement and discloses that a few of the reporters were a little too grabby when she gave them coffee.

-Robin is smart, like wicked smart. She speaks 4 languages, first chair band, honor society, the works. But, she'll never brag about it or let you know. She graduates summa cum laude with a linguistics degree.

-Middle School Eddie Munson also bonds with Mr. Clarke. The science was fine but they bonded over Tolkien and painting models.

-missing scenes: over 6 months, Max and El get closer spending time with Lucas and Mike.

[sovietpostcards]

Vintage enamel pins - various animals

Peacock - "Rostov Zoo", $4

Moose - All-Russia Nature Conservation Society, $6

Owl - Teberda Nature Reserve, $4

Deer - Voronezh Nature Reserve, $4

Size: 2.5—3 cm (0.9″—1.1")

Shipping: $5 for one pin, $9 for 2+ pins.

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