#why not draw the guy that got me here in the first place | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jupiterpilgrim · 3 months ago

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Sex Cage: Big Breasts and the Ordinary Modern Life

Eunbi x Somi x male reader

word count: 12K

previous chapter

Eunbi’s room is decked out like a gamer’s fever dream now. The RGB lights are set up just right, throwing a chill neon glow around, lighting up her face a bit. She’s parked in her plush gaming chair, legs tucked under, hunched over the mic. She’s rocking a baggy gray sweatshirt that’s slipping off one shoulder, showing a peek of her white tank top, and some soft black shorts. Her hair’s up in a messy bun, a couple strands hanging loose around her face. The camera’s got her in frame, the ring light smoothing out the hype written all over her expression. On-screen, “Rubydden’s Realm” overlays the corner of the stream—a hastily made, slightly clunky logo she insisted on designing herself. Below it, a scrolling bar reads, “First-ever stream! Let’s see if I survive TLOU!”

Her hands grip the controller nervously as the familiar PlayStation startup chime fades. The chat explodes before she even gets to the main menu.

StarGazer48: OMG, first stream vibes!!!

ButterflyEffect: She’s so cute 😭

ClickClackJack: Does she even know what’s coming??

MossyUnderwear: If she doesn’t cry at the start, she’s a robot.

"Wow! Okay, okay, hold on, chat!" Eunbi laughs, her voice carrying that particular mix of giddiness and terror. She leans forward, squinting at the second monitor to keep up with the flood of comments. “First of all, hi, everyone! Thank you for showing up… I thought there would be like… five people?"

She glances toward you, sitting just off-camera, as if for reassurance. You flash her a thumbs-up, silently mouthing, “You’ve got this.”

Her nervous laugh lingers as she picks up the controller, her fingers already fumbling with the buttons. “So, here’s the deal. This is my first-ever stream, obviously. And we’re starting with The Last of Us because… well, apparently, it’s a classic, and I don’t know much about it other than… it’s supposed to be really dramatic?” She draws out the last word like it’s a question, her doe eyes widening.

The chat erupts again:

GameDork98: Oh, honey, you have NO idea.

HatGuy69: She’s gonna cry in the first 15 minutes, guaranteed.

EllieLuv: Protect Ellie at all costs 😭

"Wait, what? Cry?!” Eunbi’s head jerks up, her gaze darting to the chat. “Nobody said anything about crying! This is just… an apocalypse thing, right? Like zombies and stuff?” Her voice rises an octave as she tries to sound calm.

The game menu appears, the soundtrack's desolate guitar fills Eunbi's ears through headphones. She adjusts in her seat, pulling the hoodie tighter around her like armor. “Alright, alright. I’m not scared. I got this. I mean, if I can handle weird requests in my DMs, I can handle… this… scary music…”

She navigates to “New Game,” as the opening cinematic begins, her expression shifts from nervous to curious. “Oh, wow. The graphics are pretty good. Look at this house! So cozy—oh no, is this where the drama starts?”

The chat explodes with laughter, cryptic emojis, and ominous hints.

ClickClackJack: This is the calm before the storm.

CryingAlpaca: Everyone, place your bets. Does she cry in 5 minutes or 10?

Eunbi leans closer, totally engrossed in Sarah wandering through the house. “Aw, this kid is so cute. Wait—she’s the main character, right?”

The chat collectively groans.

DadJokes24: Oh, sweet summer child…

“Wait, wait! Why are you guys groaning?!” she exclaims, pausing the game, eyes darting to the chat. “Don’t tell me! No spoilers, okay? Let me be innocent and enjoy this!”

She presses play again, her lips pursed as she concentrates. The moment Joel bursts through the door, Eunbi squeals in surprise. “Oh my god, what’s happening?!”

As the chaos unfolds—the infected neighbor, the car chase—she grips the controller so tightly her knuckles whiten. “THIS IS NOT ZOMBIE STUFF! WHY IS EVERYTHING EXPLODING?!”

DoomBoom: Chat, she’s losing it. This is GOLD.

NoContextGary: Just wait until the emotional sucker punch.

When the gut-wrenching scene with Joel and Sarah hits, Eunbi falls silent. Her eyes stay glued to the screen as her mouth drops open slightly. The soft sound of a sob escapes her lips as the scene fades to black, and she quickly wipes her eyes with her sleeve, laughing awkwardly. “Okay. Fine. You win. I cried. Are you happy now?”

CryingAlpaca: 16 minutes. I called it.

EllieLuv: And that's just the fucking prologue!!

ClipThis: Clip it, chat!

Eunbi sits back, letting out a shaky breath. “I need a second. That was brutal. And you guys… you knew. This whole time, you knew!” She waves a finger at the camera, mock-accusingly.

Her laughter turns genuine as she takes a sip from her water bottle, holding it dramatically like an Oscar. “Alright, let’s keep going. But if the game keeps hitting me like that, I might need therapy. And snacks. Definitely snacks.”

The chat goes wild with love and teasing, and Eunbi seems to relax, her natural charm shining through. When you see that she has everything under control, you sneak out of the room to let her focus on the game. She adjusts her hoodie, leans into the mic, and smirks at the camera. “Okay, chat. Let’s see what other heartbreaks you’ve got lined up for me. Bring it on.”

—

The stream winds down with a mix of adrenaline and exhaustion radiating from Eunbi. The game’s pause menu glows on the screen as she swivels her chair toward the camera, resting her chin in her hands with a bright, satisfied smile.

“Alright, chat. That’s it for today!” she announces, her voice warm and a little hoarse from three hours of near-constant talking. “I can’t believe we actually survived this far… well, mostly. Let’s just ignore all the times I accidentally ran straight into danger, okay? You guys are seriously the best for sticking with me through that chaos.”

The chat explodes with a flurry of messages:

StarGazer48: BEST STREAM EVER!

ButterflyEffect: You were so much fun, Ruby! Can’t wait for Friday!

ClickClackJack: First stream? Nah, you’re a natural.

RubyFan326: She’s learning fast chat, we stan a chaotic queen!!

Eunbi beams, hugging her knees to her chest like she can’t contain her excitement. “You’re all making me blush. Seriously, thank you for hanging out with me. I’m back Friday at 7 PM—mark your calendars, okay? Same game, same chaos, but hopefully with fewer ‘oops I died’ moments.” She flashes a cheeky grin and winks at the camera.

“And don’t forget to follow if you haven’t already! I mean, unless you hate fun. In that case… I don’t know what to tell you.” She laughs, leaning back in her chair and making finger guns at the screen.

The chat fills with emotes and farewells, hearts and inside jokes from the stream.

MossyUnderwear: WE LOVE YOU, RUBYDDEN!

DadJokes24: Don’t forget snacks for next time!

MovieBuff88: Stream was fire 🔥. See you Friday!

Eunbi waves a final time, her smile stretching wide and genuine. “Bye, guys! See you Friday! Be good, okay?” She clicks the “End Stream” button, the chat disappearing into a frozen feed of her grinning face.

The room falls silent except for the faint hum of her PC. Eunbi leans back, letting out a long, breathy laugh, hands pressed to her cheeks. “Oh my god… that was insane,” she mutters to herself, still buzzing.

Without a second thought, she bolts from her chair, nearly tripping over the cord of her headset. She sprints to your room, throwing the door open with the force of a hurricane.

“BABE!” she screams, launching herself onto the bed where you’re sprawled out, scrolling on your phone.

“Jesus!” you exclaim, startled, but there’s no time to process because Eunbi is already on top of you, straddling your waist and peppering your face with a barrage of kisses.

“Did you see that?!” she babbles between kisses, her words tumbling out like they’re fighting for first place. “They loved me! They actually loved me! The chat was so sweet, and everyone was so funny, and I didn’t even cry that much, right? Okay, maybe a little, but that was the game’s fault, not mine!”

You laugh, hands instinctively finding her waist as you steady her. “Slow down, babe! I can barely understand you!”

She pulls back, her cheeks flushed, her eyes bright. “I can’t slow down! I’m too excited! It went so much better than I thought it would, and they were so nice, and I didn’t mess up too badly, right?”

“Are you kidding me? You killed it,” you assure her, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. “You were funny, adorable, and totally yourself. No wonder they loved you.”

Her grin widens, and she dives back in, pressing kisses to your cheeks, your forehead, your lips—anywhere she can reach. “You’re just saying that because you’re my boyfriend,” she teases, but her voice is thick with happiness.

“Maybe,” you admit, catching her face in your hands to slow her down and plant a proper kiss on her lips. “But I’m also right. You were amazing.”

She melts into the kiss for a moment before pulling back, practically vibrating with energy. “I have so many ideas for Friday! Like, maybe I can do a snack tier list during breaks? Oh, and I should definitely figure out how to make those pop-up notifications cooler—like, fireworks or something every time someone subscribes!”

You laugh, letting her ramble, loving every second of seeing her this happy. “Whatever you do, it’ll be awesome. I’ll help you set it up.”

“Ugh, you’re the best,” she says, flopping down beside you, her head resting on your chest. She’s still buzzing, her fingers drumming lightly against your ribs. “This was the best day. I didn’t think I’d love streaming this much, but it’s so fun! And everyone was so nice! Did I already say that?!”

“Only like ten times,” you tease, wrapping an arm around her.

“Well, it’s true!” she says, tilting her head to look up at you, her smile softening. “Thanks for believing in me. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“Always,” you say, pressing a kiss to her temple. The two of you lie there in a comfortable silence, her excitement slowly giving way to contentment as she curls closer to you.

—

The gym is quite crowded today. The faint scent of rubber mats and sweat hangs in the air, but it’s far from unpleasant—it’s the smell of effort! Eunbi and Somi stand by the dumbbell rack, mid-chat, stretching in between sets.

Eunbi’s dressed in a black sports bra and high-waisted lavender leggings that hug her figure, her small waist accentuated by the snug fit. Her hair’s tied up in a messy ponytail, a few strands already sticking to her forehead from the light sheen of sweat. Beside her, Somi towers, her blonde hair pulled into a sleek braid that sways with every movement. She’s wearing a cropped white tank top, leaving her toned stomach exposed, paired with tight, navy blue biker shorts. The cut of her tank makes her generous chest all the more noticeable, matching Eunbi’s proportions, but on a taller frame.

“You really crushed that stream, Eunbi,” Somi says as she adjusts her stance for a set of squats. She picks up a kettlebell, testing its weight. “Three hours and you still looked fresh by the end? You’re a beast.”

Eunbi laughs, grabbing a smaller kettlebell for herself. “Fresh? More like barely holding it together.”

“Yeah, but that’s part of your charm,” Somi teases, dropping into her squat. Her form is flawless, back straight, glutes engaging as she lowers herself smoothly. “You’re just… you. And people love that. They eat it up.”

Eunbi mimics the movement beside her, her squat not quite as smooth but serviceable. “Honestly, I wasn’t sure I could pull it off. But the chat was so supportive… like, weirdly supportive? I half-expected trolls, but they were sweet.” She pauses, glancing at Somi with a grin. “Kind of like you, always hyping me up.”

Somi straightens, laughing as she rests the kettlebell against her hip. “Of course I’m hyping you up. You’re killing it, Eunbi. You deserve all of it—the success, the love. And let’s not forget about your boyfriend. I swear, he’s like… the blueprint for ‘sweet and supportive.’”

Eunbi rolls her eyes, but her smile gives her away. “Yeah, he’s pretty great. You should’ve seen him after the stream. I practically tackled him with excitement, and he just took it like a champ.”

Somi smirks, switching to lateral raises with a pair of dumbbells. “I bet. He’s head over heels for you—it’s obvious. You lucked out, girl.” She glances at Eunbi out of the corner of her eye. “And he’s cute. Just saying.”

Eunbi snorts, picking up her own weights and joining in on the raises. “Don’t let him hear you say that. His ego’s big enough already.”

“Mm, doubt it. He seems too grounded for that,” Somi says, her voice casual but carrying a playful undertone. She pauses, lowering the dumbbells. “But seriously, Eunbi… I’m glad you’ve got someone like him in your corner. Relationships are hard enough without the added… unique challenges of your job.”

Eunbi sets the weights down, exhaling as she stretches her arms over her head. “Yeah. It’s not always easy, but we make it work. Honestly, he’s been a lifesaver. I don’t think I could do this without him.”

Somi’s expression softens, and she leans against the rack, studying Eunbi for a moment. “You’re lucky. But so is he. You’ve always been brave, you know? Even when you first started… this whole thing, you owned it. And look where you are now.”

Eunbi chuckles, a hint of shyness creeping into her tone. “I don’t know if I’d call it brave. More like… desperate with a side of cluelessness.”

“Stop it.” Somi nudges her shoulder with a laugh. “You’ve got guts, and I respect that. Honestly, it’s inspiring. And maybe… I’ve been thinking about trying it, too.”

Eunbi freezes mid-stretch, blinking at Somi. “Wait. What?”

Somi shrugs, her braid bouncing. “Not, like, diving headfirst or anything. But I’ve been curious. You make it look fun. Plus…” She hesitates, glancing at Eunbi with a mischievous glint in her eye. “You and your boyfriend are both… ridiculously attractive. Just throwing that out there.”

Eunbi bursts out laughing, bending over to catch her breath. “Oh my god, Somi. Are you serious right now?”

“What?” Somi grins, unrepentant. “I’m just saying. If you ever wanted to collaborate… you know I’m game.”

Eunbi straightens, still laughing but with a faint blush creeping across her cheeks. “You’re insane. But I’ll… keep that in mind.”

Somi winks, picking up her dumbbells again. “You do that, princess. Now, come on. We’ve got one more set to crush.”

The two of them dive back into their workout, the conversation hanging in the air like a secret they’re both in on. It’s become routine now—Eunbi and Somi hitting the gym together, sweating it out between sets, always slipping into these raw, intimate talks where the masks drop. They’re best friends, no bullshit, just two girls who get each other completely. The gym’s their safe zone, a sweaty, clangy haven where they can flex their muscles and their honesty, laughing about life, love, and whatever wild ideas Somi’s cooking up next—no judgment, just vibes.

—

The door bursts open, and Eunbi and Somi stumble in, laughing so hard they’re practically leaning on each other for support. Both are flushed from the workout, faces glowing and slightly damp, strands of hair sticking to their foreheads. Eunbi kicks off her sneakers near the door without looking, while Somi collapses onto the couch, her braid swaying as she falls back with a dramatic groan.

You’re in the middle of wiping down the coffee table, a damp cloth in one hand and a spray bottle in the other. The faint scent of citrus cleaner fills the room. You glance up, eyebrows raised, as the two whirlwind into the apartment like they were in a park.

“Well, look at you,” Somi says with a teasing grin, sitting up and gesturing toward you with a lazy wave of her hand. “The perfect house boyfriend. Cleaning up while we’re out breaking a sweat. It’s adorable, really.”

Eunbi, still giggling, grabs a water bottle from the counter and takes a long sip before pointing at you with mock sternness. “Seriously, babe. You’re making the rest of us look bad. Stop being so domestic—it’s embarrassing.”

You straighten, crossing your arms, cloth dangling from one hand. “Excuse me for trying to keep this place from becoming a pigsty. Somebody’s got to do it.”

Somi leans forward, her elbow resting on her knee, and gives you a sly look. “Somebody’s gotta earn that ‘house boyfriend’ title, huh?”

Eunbi snickers, joining in as she sets her water bottle down. “He’s good at it, though. I should get him an apron.”

“I draw the line at aprons,” you deadpan, but there’s a flicker of amusement in your tone.

The laughter dies down, but there’s something in the air now—a faint charge, like static before a storm. You catch a glance between Eunbi and Somi, quick and loaded, followed by matching smirks. Suspicious. Very suspicious.

“What?” you ask, narrowing your eyes.

“Nothing,” Eunbi says, her tone light but her face too innocent. She grabs Somi by the arm, dragging her toward the kitchen. “Come on, let’s make a snack before this ‘house boyfriend’ kicks us out for dripping sweat everywhere.”

You watch them disappear into the kitchen, your gaze lingering as they start pulling things from the fridge. There’s something about the way they move around each other, the subtle touches and shared grins. You shake your head, trying to dismiss it, but the thought sticks.

As you finish wiping the table, you hear Eunbi’s voice, quiet but not quiet enough to miss.

“So, should I tell him, or do you want to?”

Somi laughs. “Oh, I think you should warm him up first. Wouldn’t want to scare him off.”

Now you’re curious—and a little uneasy. You toss the cloth and spray bottle onto the counter and make your way toward the kitchen.

Eunbi’s standing by the cutting board, slicing apples, while Somi leans against the counter, munching on a carrot stick like it’s a cigarette. They both glance up when you walk in, and there’s that same look between them again.

“Alright,” you say, leaning against the doorway with your arms crossed. “What’s going on?”

Eunbi pauses mid-slice, looking at Somi for a beat before turning to you with a sheepish smile. “Okay, so… Somi said something interesting at the gym.”

“Interesting how?”

Eunbi sets down the knife and crosses her arms, mirroring your stance. “She said she might want to… collaborate with us. Like, on a video.”

“She wants what?”

Somi steps in, her tone casual but her eyes sharp. “I mean, no pressure or anything. I just thought… you two are obviously comfortable with this stuff, and I’ve been curious. Plus…” She shrugs, flashing you a playful grin. “You’re cute. She’s cute. It seemed like a no-brainer.”

You blink, your mind scrambling to process this new development. “Uh… Somi, you’re… a friend. This is kind of… unexpected.”

Somi laughs, brushing a strand of blonde hair from her face. “Oh, I get it. It’s weird, right? But hey, Yujin wasn’t exactly a stranger, was she?”

“That’s… different,” you say, struggling to find the words.

“Why? Because I know you better?” Somi steps closer, her smile softening. “Look, I’m not saying you have to decide right now. Just… consider it, okay?”

Before you can respond, she leans in, planting a quick kiss on Eunbi’s cheek, then yours. It’s light, playful, and far more disarming than it has any right to be.

Eunbi’s face lights up, a mix of amusement and something more as she watches your reaction. “Wow,” she says, nudging you with her elbow. “Looks like someone’s had their eye on us, huh?”

Somi winks, grabbing an apple slice from the cutting board. “What can I say? You two are hard to ignore.”

Eunbi laughs, her hand brushing yours as she reaches for another apple slice. “Well, babe, what do you think? Somi’s always been bold, but this might be her boldest move yet.”

You glance between them, the weight of their playful smiles making your head spin. “I… think I need to sit down,” you mutter, rubbing the back of your neck.

Somi’s laugh rings out, warm and teasing. “Take your time, house boyfriend. No rush. I’ll just… let that idea simmer for a bit.”

Eunbi grins, handing you an apple slice like it’s a peace offering. “Welcome to my world, babe. It’s never boring.”

You take the apple, biting into it as you watch the two of them exchange another loaded look.

Never boring, indeed.

—

Eunbi starts planting the idea subtly, like she’s threading a needle through the gaps in your resolve, pulling the thread just tight enough to make you notice but not enough to make you pull away. It starts with offhand comments, playful teases wrapped in casual conversation.

“You know,” she muses one night, sprawled out on your chest while idly scrolling through her phone, “Somi’s got this unreal body. Like, actually unfair.”

You glance down at her, raising a brow. “And this is relevant to me because…?”

She tilts her head up, lips twitching with amusement. “Because you have eyes? And also because I know you like a nice tight ass, and hers is—well, come on.” She flicks her screen, and suddenly, she’s holding it up to you, a picture of Somi in a tiny bikini dominating the screen. The straps are minimal, the fit snug, every curve accentuated by the sun-kissed glow of her skin, especially the cleavage of her breasts—god, those breasts...

You swallow. Hard.

“Okay,” you admit, trying to play it cool. “She’s hot. What’s your point?”

Eunbi grins, sensing the crack in your composure. She flips to another picture—this time, one of her and Somi at the gym, both clad in skin-tight leggings that leave little to the imagination. Somi’s in navy blue, Eunbi in lavender, their toned legs and hips pressed close together as they pose in the mirror.

Your fingers tighten slightly around your phone. Eunbi notices.

“My point,” she continues, voice smooth as silk, “is that we’d look good together. Don’t you think?”

You exhale, pressing your head back against the pillow. “I think you like messing with me.”

She laughs, her breath warm against your collarbone as she shifts, draping herself over you like a cat basking in its favorite spot. “Obviously. But I also know you. And I know you’ve thought about it.”

Your silence is answer enough.

Eunbi doesn’t rush you—she never does. She lets the idea marinate, simmering on the edges of your thoughts, dropping little breadcrumbs every so often. A comment here, a lingering glance there. One night, she casually asks, “Wasn’t it fun with Yujin?” as she trails kisses down your neck. Another time, she accidentally leaves her phone unlocked on the bed, a chat with Somi open—Somi, who’s sent a winking selfie captioned, “So when are we making this happen? 😘”

You pretend not to see it.

But pretending doesn’t stop the thoughts. It doesn’t stop the way you start noticing Somi more—the way her tank tops ride up when she stretches, exposing that sliver of taut stomach. The way she playfully bumps your shoulder when she walks past, always just a little too close. The way her laughter lingers a second longer when she catches you watching her.

Then comes the night Eunbi corners you—figuratively, of course. She’s sitting in your lap, straddling you, fingers tracing lazy patterns over your shoulders.

“Babe,” she murmurs, lips inches from yours, “are you really gonna make me beg?”

You exhale slowly, hands gripping her waist. “This is crazy.”

She tilts her head. “Is it? You trust me, don’t you?”

That question hangs between you, heavier than the warmth of her body against yours. Of course, you trust her. That was never the issue. The issue was the part of you that already knew where this was heading.

You take a breath, slow and measured, but the weight of Eunbi’s gaze makes it feel shallow, like there’s not enough air in the room. She’s watching you, waiting, her fingers still tracing those absentminded patterns along your shoulders, nails just barely grazing your skin.

And then, finally, you exhale.

“…Yeah,” you admit. “I do.”

Eunbi’s lips curl into something victorious, but not smug—no, this is softer, warmer. She cradles your face in her hands, thumbs brushing against your cheekbones as she studies you like she’s memorizing this moment.

“See?” she murmurs. “That wasn’t so hard.”

You huff out a laugh. “Says the woman who spent weeks working me over.”

She grins, pressing a teasing kiss to the corner of your mouth. “You say that like you didn’t enjoy it.”

Your grip on her waist tightens slightly, enough for her to notice, enough for her to smirk as she leans in again, lips barely brushing yours as she whispers, “It’s gonna be fun.”

—

So the day finally arrives.

You're in your room, eyes glued to the laptop screen, hunched over the desk, a spreadsheet open, cells filled with numbers that look like they’re mocking you with their sheer volume. Eunbi’s earnings have skyrocketed since she started streaming, and between that and her other content, the bank account has become a lot healthier than you ever expected. It’s great—amazing, really—but it’s also overwhelming.

You mutter under your breath, adjusting a formula that doesn’t seem to want to cooperate. Managing finances was never something you planned on doing full-time, but here you are, crunching numbers like you’re auditioning for an accountant job you don’t want.

The faint sound of Eunbi’s voice filters in from the living room, energetic and full of life as she wraps up another stream. You smile, proud of her. She’s thriving, and you love helping her behind the scenes, but… there’s still that nagging feeling. The one that whispers you’re not doing enough, even though she’s insisted a million times that you’re her rock, her partner, her everything.

Before you can spiral too deep into your thoughts, the door swings open with zero warning, and in walks Somi. No knock, no announcement—just an entrance like she owns the place. Her damp braided blonde hair clings to her shoulders, and she’s wearing what you generously call pajamas: a loose tank top that barely clings to her chest and shorts so tiny they might as well be a suggestion rather than clothing.

“Hey, house boyfriend,” she says, flopping onto the bed like a cat claiming territory. “What’s got you all serious in here?”

You glance up, trying not to let your gaze linger too long on the way her tank top shifts as she settles in. “Numbers. Money stuff. Trying to figure out what to do with all this cash Eunbi’s making.”

Somi tilts her head, propping herself up on one elbow. “Ooh, let me guess. She’s still hopeless with money?”

“Completely,” you reply, smirking despite yourself. “She tried to tell me her budget was ‘don’t buy anything unless it’s on sale.’”

Somi bursts out laughing. “Classic Eunbi. So what’s the plan? Stash it under the mattress? Blow it all on RGB lights?”

“Ha. Ha,” you say dryly, gesturing at the screen. “I was thinking investments. Something stable but with a decent return. Problem is, I’m stuck on this formula, and Google’s no help.”

She hops off the bed and strides over, peering over your shoulder. “Let me see.”

You lean back, letting her get a closer look. Her proximity is… distracting. The scent of her shampoo, light and floral, drifts into your space, and her damp hair brushes your arm as she leans in.

“Ah, I see the problem,” she says. “You’re trying to calculate compound interest on a rolling deposit. You need to nest the formula differently.”

You blink. “How do you even know that?”

Somi grins, tapping her temple. “Numbers are my thing. Did Eunbi ever tell you that I made money in high school by doing other students' math homework?”

“No, but now it makes sense why you’re so annoyingly good at everything,” you say, shifting to let her take the keyboard.

“Flattery will get you nowhere,” she quips, typing away with swift, assured keystrokes. Within seconds, the formula is fixed, and the numbers fall into place like obedient soldiers.

“There. Problem solved,” she says, stepping back with a flourish.

You stare at the screen, genuinely impressed. “Okay, that’s actually amazing. Thanks.”

“Anytime,” she says, flashing you a cheeky smile. “So, what are we investing in? Stocks? Crypto? A small island in the Caribbean?”

“Let’s start with something less risky, like index funds. We can work our way up to the private island.”

Somi nods sagely. “Smart. And when you get the island, don’t forget who helped you make the down payment.”

“Noted,” you say, leaning back in your chair.

She plops back onto the bed, stretching out like she’s lived here her whole life.

“So,” she says, her voice teasing, “you ready for tonight?”

Your fingers hover over the keyboard. “I guess? Still wrapping my head around it, to be honest.”

“Relax,” she says, her tone softening. “It’s just us. Nothing’s going to change. I’m still Somi, Eunbi’s still Eunbi, and you’re still… well, house boyfriend.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” you mutter, but there’s a faint smile on your lips.

She sits up, her expression unusually earnest. “I mean it. You don’t have to overthink this. We’re friends first, okay? The rest is just… extra.”

You nod. “Okay. Thanks, Somi.”

“Don’t mention it,” she says, standing and stretching, her arms reaching above her head. She catches your gaze for a moment, a playful glint in her eye. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to raid your fridge. Got to fuel up for the big night.”

She saunters out, leaving the faint scent of her shampoo behind. You exhale, staring at the now-organized spreadsheet. Somi might be right about not overthinking, but something tells you this night is going to be anything but ordinary.

The hours pass and you’re sprawled out in your room when the door swings open with that familiar creak. Eunbi struts in, and fuck, she’s got that look—like she knows exactly what she’s doing to you. Her oversized hoodie’s slipping off one shoulder like always, showing off that thin strap of her tank top, and those soft black shorts are riding up just enough to make your brain short-circuit. She’s got this sultry little smirk, all suggestive and playful, as she leans against the doorframe. “Everything’s set for the recording,” she says, like she’s dangling something you can’t resist. You push yourself up from the chair, stretching a little, but there’s this hesitant buzz in your chest—like you’re excited but still wrapping your head around what’s about to go down. “How’d the stream go?” you ask, scratching the back of your neck, trying to play it cool. She lights up, bouncing on her toes. “Oh my god, it was awesome. Chat was hyped, I had a blast, and The Last of Us? I’m obsessed. Joel’s breaking my heart every five minutes.” Her energy’s infectious, and you can’t help but grin—she’s killing it, and you’re genuinely stoked for her. She steps closer, grabs your face with both hands, and plants a soft, quick kiss on your lips. “You okay, babe?” she asks, tilting her head, those big eyes searching yours. “Yeah, I’m good,” you say, nodding, and it’s true, even if your pulse is kicking up a notch. She flashes you that smile that always melts you, grabs your hand, and tugs you toward her room like she’s on a mission.

You follow her down the hall, her fingers laced with yours, and when you step into her space, it’s like walking into a different world. The RGB lights are dialed up, casting a soft purple-red glow over everything, and her streaming setup’s still warm from earlier. Somi’s perched on a stool by the desk, finishing her makeup, a little compact mirror in one hand and a fluffy brush in the other. She’s still rocking that barely-there tank top, the fabric stretched tight over her chest, and those tiny shorts that leave nothing to the imagination. Her blonde hair’s loose now, falling over her shoulders in messy waves, and when she spots you, her face lights up like she’s been waiting for this all day. “There’s our star,” she says, tossing the brush down and hopping off the stool, all long legs and confidence. You give her a half-smile, feeling the air shift—thicker, heavier with whatever’s about to happen. You head over to the camera on its tripod, double-checking the battery. Green light’s solid—plenty of juice. Everything’s good to go, and you drop onto the edge of the mattress, rubbing your hands on your jeans, trying to shake off that nervous edge.

Eunbi doesn’t waste a second—she slides right onto your lap, straddling you, her thighs pressing against your hips. The weight of her feels so fucking good, familiar but electric with the vibe in the room. Somi plops down next to you, close enough that her bare knee brushes yours, and she leans in with this sly little grin. “Alright, let’s break the ice,” she says. Before you can even process it, Eunbi turns her head, grabs Somi by the neck, and pulls her into a kiss. Holy shit—it’s hot. Like, instantly hot. They’re both gorgeous, lips soft and glossy, moving against each other like they’ve done this a million times, even though you know they’re just good friends pushing boundaries. Eunbi’s hands slide up Somi’s arms, then cup her massive tits through that flimsy tank top, squeezing just enough to make Somi moan into her mouth—a low, needy sound that hits you right in the gut. You can see Somi’s nipples hardening, poking through the fabric, and your jeans are getting tight as hell. Your cock’s waking up fast, straining against the zipper, and you shift a little under Eunbi, trying to play it off, but she’s gotta feel it.

Somi’s not holding back either—her hands slip under Eunbi’s hoodie, pushing it up to expose the smooth curve of her waist and the edge of her tank top. She grabs Eunbi’s tits, thumbs brushing over where her nipples are probably hard as fuck under the layers, and Eunbi lets out this breathy little gasp that makes your head spin. The hoodie’s bunched up now, showing off her flat stomach, and the way they’re groping each other is straight-up pornographic—except it’s real, and it’s happening two feet from you. They break the kiss, both of them flushed, lips shiny with spit, and Eunbi turns to you, cheeks pink, eyes dark. “What’d you think, babe?” she asks, voice all husky. You swallow hard, throat dry as fuck. “Yeah, uh, I liked it,” you manage, and she smirks, shifting her hips just enough to grind against your boner. She knows exactly what she’s doing, and that smile says she’s loving every second of it.

Then Somi leans in, her hand resting on your thigh—way too close to your dick—and says, “My turn.” Before you can even think, her lips are on yours, soft and warm and tasting faintly of cherry lip gloss. You’re so fucking horny it’s ridiculous, and you kiss her back harder than you mean to, tongue slipping into her mouth, hands grabbing her waist on instinct. She’s pressing herself against you, her tits squished against your chest, and it’s like every nerve in your body’s on fire. Eunbi’s still on your lap, watching with this mesmerized, horny-as-hell look, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. Somi pulls back, breathing fast, and you’re both a little wrecked—her hair’s a mess from your fingers, and you’re pretty sure your brain’s offline. Eunbi’s voice cuts through the haze, soft and teasing. “So? What’d you think of that?” You’re panting a little, cock throbbing under her weight. “Fuck, I liked it,” you say, and she giggles, leaning in to give you a quick, sloppy kiss—more tongue than necessary, like she’s staking her claim.

She slides off your lap, adjusting her hoodie, and claps her hands together. “Alright, we’re ready to start filming,” she says, all business now, but her eyes are still gleaming with lust. Somi’s smirking, wiping a smudge of gloss from the corner of her mouth, and you’re just sitting there, hard as a rock, trying to catch your breath.

Eunbi’s got that glint in her eye as she picks up the camera from the tripod, her fingers brushing yours as she hands it over. “You’re on POV duty, babe,” she says. The weight of the camera settles in your hands, solid and real, and you adjust your grip, already picturing how this is gonna look through the lens. Somi’s rummaging through the little box of props by the desk, pulling out this old black masquerade mask—the one Eunbi used to wear back when she was still anonymous. Somi slips it over her eyes, the elastic snapping into place, and it’s just these two thin straps of fabric cutting across her face, leaving her mouth and jaw exposed. The way it frames her cheekbones and makes her lips pop is unreal. Eunbi steps back, tilting her head to check her out, and grins. “Fuck, you look sexy as hell like that,” she says, all casual like she’s complimenting Somi’s gym outfit or something. Somi strikes a little pose, popping her hip, and smirks. “Yeah? Good, ‘cause I’m ready to fuck shit up.”

You adjust yourself on the edge of the bed, legs dangling, the mattress dipping under your weight. The camera’s in your hands, lens pointed down at your lap for now, and you can feel your pulse hammering in your throat. “Alright, I’m gonna start recording,” you say, thumb hovering over the button. Your voice comes out steadier than you feel, which is a minor miracle. You hit record, and the little red light blinks on. Eunbi and Somi drop to their knees between your legs, smooth and synced like they’ve rehearsed this shit. The carpet’s soft under their knees, and the RGB lights paint their skin in shifting hues—purple bleeding into red, then blue. Eunbi’s hoodie’s still bunched up from earlier, showing off that sliver of her stomach, and Somi’s tank top is clinging to her curves, the mask giving her this mysterious, badass vibe. You angle the camera down, framing them just right, their faces filling the shot.

Eunbi kicks things off, leaning into the mic moment like she’s still streaming to her chat. “Hey, everyone,” she says, all bright and charismatic, her voice slipping into that flirty, playful tone she’s perfected. “Got a special treat for you tonight. Say hi to my gorgeous friend here—she’s joining us for some fun.” She gestures at Somi, who flashes a wicked grin, lips glossy and parted. “Hey, y’all,” Somi says, her voice low and raspy, dripping with excitement. “I’m fucking pumped to be here—let’s make it a good one.” She doesn’t say her name, obviously—Eunbi’s keeping it vague, letting the mask and the vibe do the talking. The camera catches every detail: the way Eunbi’s hair falls messily over her shoulders, the slight sheen of sweat on Somi’s collarbone, the way their knees press into the carpet as they shift closer to you.

Eunbi’s hands move first, reaching for your belt with this practiced ease. The metal clinks as she unbuckles it, her fingers brushing your stomach through your shirt, sending a jolt straight to your dick. Somi’s right there with her, tugging at the button of your jeans, popping it open with a little flick. “Teamwork makes the dream work,” Somi mutters under her breath, and Eunbi snickers, the sound all throaty and real. They yank your jeans down together, a little rougher than necessary, the denim scraping against your thighs as it slides off. Your boxers go next—Somi hooks her fingers in the waistband and pulls, slow and deliberate, like she’s unwrapping something she’s been dying to see. Your cock springs free, already half-hard from all the buildup, and the air feels cool against your skin for about two seconds before their eyes lock on it.

Somi lets out this low whistle, leaning in closer, the mask making her look like some sexy bandit sizing up her prize. “Holy shit, dude,” she says, voice full of awe. “This thing’s even bigger in real life. The videos don’t do it justice.” Eunbi smirks, proud as hell, like she’s showing off her favorite toy. “Told you he’s packing,” she says to Somi, then glances up at you through the lens, winking. Your grip on the camera tightens, trying to keep it steady as they both reach out. Eunbi’s hand wraps around the base, her fingers warm and firm, while Somi’s slides up the side, her touch lighter, almost teasing. They stroke you together, not hard, just enough to make your breath hitch. The sensation’s fucking wild—two different rhythms, two different grips, and you’re already fighting to keep your shit together.

Eunbi leans in first, her tongue darting out to lick the tip, slow and wet, leaving a shiny trail that catches the light. She’s got this way of flicking her tongue that’s pure torture, and you angle the camera down to catch it—her lips hovering, her eyes flicking up at you through her lashes. Somi’s watching her like she’s taking notes, then dives in on the other side, her lips brushing the shaft, soft and sloppy. Her mask shifts a little as she moves, but it stays put, the black fabric stark against her flushed cheeks. They’re working you together now, mouths sliding over your cock like they’re sharing a goddamn meal. Eunbi’s sucking lightly on the head, her cheeks hollowing out, while Somi’s tongue traces a slow, lazy line up the side, her breath hot against your skin. You groan low in your throat, the sound rumbling out before you can stop it, and Eunbi hums in response, the vibration hitting hard.

Somi pulls back for a sec, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, grinning like a kid who just stole candy. “This is fun as hell,” she says, voice all husky, then dives back in, her lips wrapping around the middle while Eunbi works the tip. They’re trading off, syncing up without even trying—Eunbi’s hand stays at the base, pumping slow and steady, while Somi’s tongue swirls around the shaft, messy and wet. Spit’s starting to drip, pooling on the carpet between your legs, and you can hear it—the slick, sloppy sounds mixing with their little gasps and moans. The camera’s catching everything: the way Eunbi’s hair sticks to her neck, the way Somi’s tank top rides up, showing off the curve of her hips, the way your cock glistens under the lights, slick with their spit.

Eunbi pulls off, her lips shiny, and looks up at you—or the camera, really—grinning like she knows she’s driving you insane. “Having fun up there, babe?” she asks, all coy, her hand still stroking you, keeping the pressure just right. Somi doesn’t stop, her mouth sliding lower, kissing and sucking along the base, her mask slipping a tiny bit and you catch a flash of her eyes—dark, wild, loving every second of this. You grunt out a “Fuck yeah,” voice rougher than you mean it to be, and they both laugh, the sound muffled against your skin. Eunbi leans back in, her tongue flattening against the underside, dragging up slow and deliberate, while Somi’s lips meet hers at the top, their mouths brushing each other as they take you in. It’s messy, uncoordinated, and so fucking hot you’re gripping the camera like it’s your lifeline.

Somi’s hand slips under your shirt, nails raking lightly over your stomach, and Eunbi’s free hand digs into your thigh, grounding herself as she works you harder. They’re all in—knees pressed into the carpet, bodies leaning into you, mouths and hands everywhere. The camera shakes a little in your grip, but you keep it focused, the POV lens is drinking it all in, every filthy detail lit up by the shifting RGB glow—purple washing over their skin, then red, then blue, like some horny neon fever dream. Eunbi’s on her knees, her messy bun bouncing slightly as she moves, and Somi’s right there with her, that black masquerade mask sitting snug over her eyes. It’s one of those fancy ones, like you’d see at a ball—curved and sleek, hugging her face, with little swirls cut into the edges that make her look like some mysterious seductress.

Eunbi shifts lower, her hands gripping your thighs as she ducks her head and goes for your balls. Her tongue’s hot and wet, lapping at one, then the other, slow and sloppy like she’s savoring every second. She sucks one into her mouth, gentle at first, then harder, her cheeks hollowing out as she pulls just enough to make your breath catch. The sensation’s insane—warm and tight, her spit dripping down. She’s humming against you, this low, needy sound that vibrates straight up your spine, and you can’t help but groan, the noise rough and loud in the quiet room. The camera catches her from above—her hoodie’s still on, bunched up around her shoulders, and her eyes flick up at you through the lens, dark and teasing, like she knows she’s got you by the balls, literally.

Somi’s up higher, her hands wrapped around your cock, stroking it slow and deliberate while her mouth does the real damage. She’s in love with it, you can tell—her lips slide over the shaft, kissing it like it’s her favorite thing in the world, her tongue darting out to trace every inch. She’s messy with it, spit bubbling at the corners of her mouth, dripping down her chin as she works you. That masquerade mask makes her look dangerous, the black fabric stark against her flushed skin, and when she pulls back for a sec, panting, she grins up at you. “Fuck, this thing’s a masterpiece,” she says, before diving back in. Her tongue swirls around the tip, flicking over the slit, and your hips jerk involuntarily, pushing deeper into her mouth. She moans around you, encouraging it, her hands pumping the base while her lips suck you down, wet and tight.

They’re a fucking team, trading off like they’ve got a playbook. Eunbi’s still sucking your balls, her tongue rolling over them now, sloppy and warm, while Somi’s got your cock in a death grip with her mouth. Then they switch it up—Eunbi pulls back, licking her lips, and Somi dips lower, kissing along the base while Eunbi��s hand takes over the shaft, stroking you fast and slick. The camera’s shaking a little in your hands, but you keep it locked on them, catching the way Somi’s mask slips just a fraction, and the way Eunbi’s hoodie rides up, flashing more of her stomach. It’s raw, chaotic, and so damn hot your head’s spinning.

Then they do something that nearly fucking kills you. Eunbi slides up, her mouth brushing the side of your cock, and Somi leans in from the other side. They sandwich the tip between their lips, kissing each other around it, their tongues tangling as they slide over you. It’s wet, messy, and loud—spit everywhere, their moans mixing with the slick sounds of their mouths working you over. Eunbi’s tongue flicks against Somi’s, then against you, and Somi’s sucking hard on one side while Eunbi mirrors her on the other. Your cock’s trapped in this perfect, sloppy vise, and you can’t hold back the moan that rips out of you—low and guttural, echoing in the room. The camera catches it all: their lips pressed together, your tip caught in the middle, glistening with their spit, the RGB lights painting their faces in streaks of color.

They keep going, relentless, their mouths sliding back and forth, trading sides, kissing around you like they’re starving for it. Eunbi’s hands dig into your thighs, nails leaving little half-moons in your skin, while Somi’s fingers tease the base of your cock, brushing your balls every now and then, sending jolts through you. Your dick’s soaked now, dripping with their spit, slick and shiny under the lights. Eunbi pulls back for a sec, wiping her mouth with her sleeve, her eyes glinting up at you. “Look at that,” she says, smirking, nodding at your cock like it’s some kind of trophy. Somi giggles, her mask shifting as she leans back, her chin wet and gleaming. “Yeah, we fucking drenched it,” she says, sounding proud as hell.

Eunbi sits back on her heels, grabbing the hem of her hoodie and yanking it over her head in one smooth motion. It lands in a heap on the floor, leaving her in that white tank top, the fabric stretched tight over her tits, puffy nipples poking through like she’s been hard this whole time. Somi follows suit, peeling off her tank top and tossing it aside—her massive chest bounces free, skin flushed from the heat of the room, and she adjusts her masquerade mask like it’s a crown, smirking at you through the lens. They’re both kneeling there, their bodies glistening with a light sheen of sweat, ready to take it up a notch. You lower the camera slightly, framing their tits in the shot, knowing damn well they’re about to give you a titjob that’ll blow your fucking mind.

Then Eunbi’s hands move to the bottom of her white tank top, fingers curling under the hem. She peels it up slow, teasing, like she’s putting on a show just for you—and the lens. The fabric stretches, then slides over her head, her massive tits bouncing free as she tosses it aside. They’re fucking huge, round and heavy, nipples hard and pink against her pale skin, catching the shifting RGB lights—purple, red, blue—like some kind of pornographic kaleidoscope.

Eunbi shifts closer, her knees digging into the carpet, and she leans in, cupping her tits with both hands. “Ready for this, babe?” she asks, eyes locked on yours through the camera. You nod, swallowing hard, your cock twitching at the sight of her. “Fuck yeah, I am,” you say, voice rough, already imagining how those soft, warm mounds are gonna feel. She smirks, adjusting her grip, and presses her tits together, sliding your slick, spit-soaked dick right into the valley between them. The first touch is insane—soft, plush, and hot, her skin wrapping around you like a glove. It's a feeling that always surprises you, no matter how many times you've experienced it. She starts moving, slow at first, bouncing her tits up and down, the friction building as your cock slides through. It’s wet from all their spit, slick and slippery, and the sound—fuck, it’s filthy, this soft, squishing noise every time she squeezes you tighter.

“Goddamn, babe,” you groan, angling the camera to catch every bounce, the way her tits jiggle and press against each other, trapping you in that perfect pocket. She giggles, low and dirty, loving how wrecked you sound. “Feels good, huh? My big fucking tits all over your dick?” she teases, picking up the pace, her nipples brushing your stomach every time she dips down. You’re losing it a little, hips twitching up to meet her, and she moans softly, getting off on how much you’re into it. “Yeah, babe, fuck my tits,” she murmurs, squeezing them harder, her thumbs brushing her own nipples like she’s teasing herself too. The camera’s catching it all—her flushed cheeks, the way her hair swings, the little beads of sweat starting to dot her chest. You’re in heaven, no lie, those massive, soft mounds swallowing your cock like they were made for it.

Somi’s watching from the side, her own hands drifting to her chest, kneading her tits absentmindedly as she bites her lip. “Shit, that’s hot,” she says, voice all breathy, her mask slipping a tiny bit as she leans closer. Eunbi glances over at her, smirking, and slows down, letting your cock slip free for a second. “Your turn,” she says, scooting over, her tits still heaving from the effort. Somi doesn’t hesitate—she shuffles into place, long legs folding under her, and grabs her own breasts, pushing them together. Hers are just as big as Eunbi’s, maybe a little perkier, with darker nipples that stand out against her flushed skin. She wraps them around your cock, and fuck, it’s a different kind of tight—firmer, her skin cooler from the air, but still so damn soft. She starts moving, quick and eager, her tits bouncing hard as she slides you in and out.

“Holy fuck,” you groan, head tipping back for a sec before you force yourself to focus on the camera again. The POV shot’s gold—her masked face tilted down, lips parted as she pants, blonde hair swinging, and those huge tits working you like a machine. “You like this, huh?” she says, grinning up at you, her voice all teasing and sharp. “My fat tits fucking your big dick? Better than you dreamed, right?” She squeezes tighter, and you hiss, the pressure insane, your cock disappearing completely between her mounds every time she pushes up. “Fuck yes,” you manage, voice tight, “you’re killing me with those things.” She laughs, throaty and smug, and leans forward more, letting the tip of your cock peek out at the top, brushing her chin. “Good,” she says, “I wanna ruin you for anything else.”

Eunbi’s shifted to the side now, kneeling close, her eyes glued to Somi’s tits bouncing around your cock. She’s biting her lip hard, one hand slipping under her shorts, rubbing herself through the fabric. “Fuck, babe,” she breathes, voice shaky with heat, “you look so good like that. Somi’s tits are eating you alive.” She’s horny as hell, you can tell—her cheeks are red, her breathing’s all over the place, and the way she’s touching herself is making her squirm. “You loving this?” she asks, leaning in to kiss your neck, her lips hot and wet against your skin. “Yeah, fuck, I’m losing my mind,” you say as Somi keeps going, her pace relentless. Eunbi moans against your neck, her hand moving faster under her shorts. “God, I love watching her fuck you with those,” she whispers, her tongue flicking out to taste your skin.

Somi slows down a little, teasing now, letting your cock slide out halfway before burying it back between her tits. “You’re so fucking hard,” she says, looking up at you through that mask, her eyes dark and wild. “These big-ass tits making you crazy?” She jiggles them a little, playful, and you can’t help but laugh, wrecked as you are. “Yeah, Somi, they’re fucking unreal,” you say, and she beams, proud as hell, picking up the pace again. The camera’s shaking more now, your hands unsteady, but you keep it on her—those bouncing mounds, the way her skin glistens with sweat, the little smirk she throws you every time she catches you staring.

Eunbi’s practically panting now, her hand moving in tight little circles under her shorts, her other hand reaching out to grab Somi’s arm. “Switch back,” she says, voice needy, almost desperate. Somi pulls back, letting your cock spring free, slick and shiny from all the spit and sweat, and Eunbi’s on it in a heartbeat. She presses her tits around you again, faster this time, her movements hungry. “Missed this,” she mutters, her voice all breathy as she works you, her nipples dragging against your stomach. “Love feeling you between my tits, babe.” You groan, the heat of her skin driving you wild. “Fuck, you’re so good at this,” you say, and she grins, all smug and turned on, her tits squeezing you tighter.

Somi’s not just watching anymore—she’s leaning in, whispering in your ear, her breath hot against your skin. “Bet you could fuck these tits all day, huh? Me and her fighting over your dick like this?” Her hand brushes your thigh, teasing close to your balls, and you’re so wound up it’s a miracle you’re still holding the camera. “Yeah, shit, I could,” you say, voice cracking, and they both laugh, loving how gone you are. Eunbi slows down, dragging it out, her tits sliding up and down so slow you can feel every inch of her. “You’re ours tonight,” she says, looking up at you, her eyes dark and possessive through the lens. Somi chimes in, “Damn right,” her fingers tracing little patterns on your leg, keeping you on edge.

It’s too much—those two massive pairs of tits, the teasing, the way they’re feeding off each other’s energy. You’re drowning in it, loving every second of their soft, warm skin all over you, their dirty talk bouncing around your head like a fucking echo chamber. The camera’s still rolling, capturing every bounce, every squeeze, and you’re just trying to hang on, lost in the best kind of chaos.

But Eunbi got this sixth sense about you—knows you’re teetering right on the edge, your breaths getting ragged, your grip on the camera tightening like it’s the only thing keeping you grounded. She stops slowly, deliberate and torturous, letting your dick slip out inch by inch until it’s just resting between her breasts, throbbing against her warm skin. “Alright, babe, think we’ve teased you enough with these,” she says, giving her tits one last squeeze around you before letting go. Your cock springs free, hard as steel, and she sits back on her heels, smirking up at you through the lens ‘cause she knows she’s got you on the edge.

You clear your throat and stand up, legs a little shaky from the buildup. “Alright, ladies, on all fours.” Eunbi and Somi don’t even blink—they’re already peeling off what’s left of their clothes. Eunbi kicks her soft black shorts to the floor, revealing those curvy hips and thick thighs, her pussy glistening under the lights. Somi shimmies out of her tiny pink shorts, tossing them aside with a flick of her long legs, her tighter, rounder ass popping as she stretches out. They scramble onto the bed, giggling and shoving each other playfully, then settle on all fours, side by side, asses up and ready. The mattress creaks under their weight, and you adjust the camera angle again, ready to record every damn second of this.

You step closer, taking it all in. Somi’s taller, her body more defined—long, lean legs leading up to that firm, sculpted ass, tight and high like she’s been squatting for years. Her pussy’s peeking out, wet and pink, framed by those sharp tan lines from the gym. Eunbi’s softer, all curves and plushness, her ass rounder and juicier, jiggling a little as she shifts her weight. Her skin’s pale and smooth, her pussy just as soaked, lips puffy and begging for it. You can’t resist—your free hand swings down, smacking Somi’s ass first, the crack echoing in the room. She yelps, then moans, arching her back more. Then you slap Eunbi’s, harder than you meant to, and she gasps, her flesh rippling under your palm. “Fuck, babe,” she mutters, glancing back at you with a smirk.

“So,” you say, voice rough, camera panning over their perfect lineup, “who’s first?” Eunbi tilts her head, her messy bun wobbling as she nods toward Somi. “Guest gets the honors,” she says, all generous and teasing, her eyes flicking to Somi’s ass like she’s proud to share. Somi wiggles her hips, looking back at you through the mask, grinning. “Yeah, come on, big guy. Let’s see what you’ve got.” You don’t need more invitation than that. You step up behind Somi, lining yourself up, the camera in one hand catching the way her pussy shines, already dripping from the buildup. You grab her hip with your free hand, steadying her, and slide the tip of your cock along her slit—slow, teasing, feeling how wet she is. She shivers, pushing back against you, impatient. “Fuck, don’t play with me,” she groans, and you laugh, low and dirty, before pushing in.

Her pussy’s tight, hot, clamping around you as you sink in deep, inch by inch. The stretch is fucking unreal, her walls gripping you like a vise, and you groan loud, the sound bouncing off the walls. The camera’s right there, POV perfect, catching the way her ass presses against your hips, the little dimples in her lower back flexing as she adjusts. “Holy shit,” you mutter, pulling back slow, watching your cock slide out, slick and shiny, before slamming back in. She moans, sharp and needy, her elbows digging into the bed as she rocks back to meet you. “Yeah, fuck me hard,” she says, and you oblige, picking up the pace, the slap of skin on skin filling the room. Her ass jiggles with every thrust, tight and round, and you smack it again, leaving a red handprint that the camera zooms in on. She’s loud—gasping, cursing, loving every second—and you’re losing yourself in it, hips snapping, the wet squelch of her pussy driving you wild.

Eunbi’s right next to her, watching, her own ass still up, swaying a little like she’s jealous. “Fuck, babe, you’re killing her,” she says, laughing, but there’s heat in her voice, her fingers twitching like she’s dying to touch herself. You pull out of Somi after a few more thrusts, her pussy clenching around nothing as you leave, and she whines, glancing back with a pout. “Don’t stop,” she says, but you’re already moving, shifting over to Eunbi. You know this pussy—soft, warm, familiar—but it’s no less fucking amazing. You line up, camera steady, and push in slow, savoring the way she opens for you, wet and ready. “Oh my god,” she moans, head dropping to the bed, her voice muffled against the sheets. She’s softer inside, her walls fluttering around you, and you grab her hips, pulling her back onto you hard. The camera catches it—the way her ass ripples, the curve of her spine as she arches, her pussy swallowing you whole.

“Fuck, Eunbi, you feel so good,” you say, voice gritty, and she hums in response, pushing back against you, matching your rhythm. Her pussy’s sloppy wet, the sound louder than with Somi, all slick and messy as you fuck her deep. She’s quieter than Somi but just as into it, her breaths hitching every time you bottom out, her fingers clawing at the sheets. You smack her ass too, lighter this time, and she giggles through a moan, glancing back at you. “Harder, babe,” she says, and you give it to her, slamming in so the bed shakes, her curves bouncing under your hand. The camera’s got it all—her soft flesh, the way her pussy grips you, the little beads of sweat rolling down her back.

You can’t choose, though—why should you? You pull out of Eunbi, her groan matching Somi’s earlier one, and slide back into Somi, quick and rough. “Fuck, yes,” Somi gasps, her tighter pussy squeezing you as you pick up where you left off, pounding her hard. The switch is seamless, the camera panning between them as you fuck a little of each, back and forth. Somi’s ass slaps against you, firm and loud, then Eunbi’s softer curves take over, her pussy sucking you in deeper. You’re grunting now, lost in the rhythm, the way their bodies feel so different but so fucking perfect. “You’re both insane,” you say, laughing through a groan, and Somi throws back, “Yeah, and you love it, don’t you?” Eunbi chimes in, “He fucking lives for it—look at him go.”

You keep going, a few thrusts in Somi—her tight, athletic heat—then back to Eunbi’s softer, wetter grip, the camera catching every switch, every angle. Somi’s moaning loud, her mask slipping a bit, while Eunbi’s quieter, panting into the bed, her ass wiggling every time you leave her. You slap both their asses again, just because you can, and they yelp in sync, then laugh, egging you on. “Which pussy you like more, huh?” Somi teases, glancing back, and Eunbi lifts her head, smirking. “Yeah, babe, pick a favorite.” You just groan, shaking your head, too caught up to answer, fucking them both like you’re trying to memorize every inch.

You’re deep in the groove now, the camera trembling in your hand as you pull out of Eunbi’s pussy, her soft, wet heat clinging to you like it doesn’t want to let go. She’s panting into the sheets, ass still up, all plush and inviting, and you’ve got an idea brewing. You shift your grip on the camera, angling it to catch the way her curves glisten under the RGB lights—purple fading into red, her skin slick with sweat. “Babe,” you say, “gonna switch it up.” She glances back, her messy bun half-undone, strands sticking to her neck, and smirks like she knows what’s coming. You line up, the tip of your cock brushing her tight little asshole, and push in slow. She moans loud, this deep, throaty sound that hits you right in the gut, her body tensing for a split second before she relaxes into it. She’s used to this—loves it, even—and you can tell by how easily she takes you, her ass stretching around you, hot and tight as fuck.

“Goddamn, princess,” you grunt, sinking in deeper, the camera catching every inch as you bury yourself in her. Her ass jiggles with the intrusion, soft and round, and she arches her back more, pushing back against you like she’s begging for it. You start fucking her hard, no warm-up needed—she’s already loose enough, her hole gripping you like a vice as you slam into her. The sound’s filthy—skin slapping skin, her moans bouncing off the walls, the bed creaking under the force. “Fuck, yes, babe, pound my ass,” she gasps, her voice all wrecked, fingers clawing at the sheets. You grab her hip with your free hand, digging in, keeping her steady as you rail her, the camera shaking but locked on her bouncing ass, the way it swallows your cock over and over. The RGB lights paint her in streaks of color, her pale skin glowing, sweat beading down her spine.

Somi’s right next to her, still on all fours, her tighter, rounder ass swaying a little like she’s waiting her turn. She’s watching you fuck Eunbi, her masked face turned just enough to catch the action, and you can see the jealousy flaring in her posture—shoulders tense, hips twitching. “Hey,” she says, voice sharp and pouty, “don’t hog him. I want that too.” She wiggles her ass at you, firm and perky, the tan lines from her shorts making it pop even more under the lights. Eunbi laughs through a moan, glancing at Somi. “Greedy bitch,” she teases, but there’s no malice—she’s too caught up in getting her ass pounded. You pull out of Eunbi, slow and deliberate, her hole winking at you as you leave, and she groans, half-protesting, half-catching her breath. “Don’t worry,” you say, smirking, “plenty to go around.”

You shift over to Somi, camera in hand, lining up behind her. Her pussy’s still dripping from earlier, but you’re aiming higher now. You slap her ass first—harder than you did Eunbi’s—and she yelps, then giggles, arching her back to give you better access. “Come on, fuck my ass already,” she says, all impatient and bratty, glancing back through that masquerade mask, her eyes dark and daring. You press the tip of your cock against her asshole, and she tenses, not as used to it as Eunbi, but she’s horny enough from everything else that it’s not a total fight. You push in, slow at first, and she hisses through her teeth, her tight ring stretching around you. “Fuck, that’s big,” she mutters, voice tight, but she doesn’t pull away—instead, she rocks back a little, testing it. You groan, the heat and squeeze insane, tighter than her pussy by a mile, and start moving, shallow thrusts to get her used to it.

“Shit, Somi, you’re so fucking tight,” you say, voice gritty, the camera zoomed in on her ass as you sink deeper. She moans, high and needy, her long legs trembling as she adjusts, her firm cheeks jiggling with every thrust. You pick up the pace, fucking her harder, and she’s louder now, gasping and cursing. “Yeah, fuck me, wreck my ass,” she pants, her bratty tone melting into something desperate. The camera catches it all—her toned back flexing, the way her ass bounces against your hips, the sharp contrast of her tight hole gripping you compared to Eunbi’s softer give. You smack her ass again, leaving another red mark, and she squeals, loving it, pushing back harder.

Eunbi’s not just watching anymore—she’s shifted closer, her hand slipping between her legs, rubbing herself as she stares at you railing Somi. “Fuck, babe, you’re destroying her,” she says, voice breathy and hot, her fingers moving fast. “Looks so good.” You grin, too caught up to reply, and pull out of Somi after a few more thrusts, her ass clenching as you leave, a little gape left behind. She whines, glancing back, but you’re already moving back to Eunbi. “Your turn again,” you say, sliding into her ass easy this time, her body welcoming you like an old friend. She moans loud, her softer curves shaking as you fuck her hard, the camera panning between her jiggling ass and Somi’s tighter frame next to her.

You’re in a rhythm now—fucking Eunbi’s ass for a few deep, brutal thrusts, then switching back to Somi’s, keeping them both on edge. Eunbi’s looser, her hole taking you with this sloppy, wet ease, her moans low and guttural as you pound her. “Fuck, I love your cock in my ass,” she groans, her voice muffled against the bed, her hips rolling back to meet you. Then you’re back in Somi, her tighter grip making you work for it, her gasps sharp and needy as you stretch her out again. “Harder, fuck, make it hurt,” she begs, and you oblige, slamming into her so the bed shakes, her firm ass rippling with every hit. The camera’s catching everything—the way Eunbi’s softer flesh bounces versus Somi’s tight, athletic jiggle, the sweat dripping down their backs, the little red marks blooming on their skin from your hands.

They’re egging each other on now, too. “Look at her take it,” Eunbi says, glancing at Somi, her voice all husky as she rubs herself faster. Somi fires back, “Yeah, well, your ass is swallowing him whole, slut.” They laugh, breathless and wrecked, loving the competition. You keep switching—Eunbi’s plush heat, Somi’s vise-like grip—your hips snapping hard, the room filling with the sound of flesh smacking flesh, their moans blending into this horny symphony. The RGB lights keep shifting, painting their bodies in wild colors, Somi’s mask glinting every time she looks back, Eunbi’s hair a tangled mess swinging with every thrust. You’re grunting, sweating, too caught up to care how shaky the camera gets, just focused on fucking these two perfect asses like it’s the last thing you’ll ever do.

But viewers need more. A few more hard pumps and you slow down, giving her ass one last firm squeeze, your fingers sinking into the flesh. “Fuck, babe,” you say, voice rough and winded, “time for you to ride me now.” She moans, low and needy, her head dipping as she catches her breath, her messy bun swaying. You pull out slow, her hole clenching around nothing as you leave, and she glances back with a smirk, knowing what’s next. You shift, placing the camera on the tripod on the side of the bed for a new angle. You go back to bed, lying flat on your back, head propped on a pillow, cock standing tall and slick under the RGB lights. The bed’s a mess, sheets twisted, sweat stains blooming, but you don’t care. Somi and Eunbi are already moving, giggling like they’re plotting something dirty, their naked bodies glowing in the shifting colors—purple, red, blue.

Somi’s first—she straddles you quick, her long legs folding under her, that tight, round ass hovering over your hips. “My turn to fuck you silly,” she says, voice all bratty and hot, grabbing your cock with one hand and lining it up. She sinks down fast, her pussy swallowing you whole, tight and wet and so fucking good you groan loud, hands flying to her hips. She starts riding you hard, no buildup, just straight to it—her ass slapping against your thighs, her massive tits bouncing like crazy, the motion wild and free. The camera’s off to the side, catching her from an angle—those firm mounds jiggling, her toned stomach flexing as she rolls her hips, her blonde hair swinging loose. “Fuck, you’re so big,” she moans, tossing her head back, her mask glinting in the light. “Filling me up—shit, I love this.”

Eunbi’s not just watching—she’s all over you, her hands sliding across your chest, nails raking over your abs like she’s marking territory. “God, look at you,” she murmurs, leaning down, her tongue flicking out to tease your nipple. She sucks it hard, teeth grazing the edge, and you hiss, the sensation sharp and electric. Her fingers dig into your sides, her curvy body pressed close, her breath hot against your skin. “You liking this, babe?” she asks, voice dripping with heat, her lips brushing your ear. “Somi’s tight little pussy fucking you good?” She’s playing with you, egging you on, her hands roaming while Somi keeps bouncing, the slap of skin loud and rhythmic. “Fuck yeah,” you grunt, voice tight, “she’s killing me.” Eunbi laughs, sucking your nipple again, her tongue swirling as Somi rides you harder, her moans getting louder, her tits practically hypnotizing with every bounce.

Somi leans forward, hands braced on your chest, her nails digging in as she grinds down, her pussy clenching around you. “Shit, your cock’s perfect,” she pants, smirking through the mask. “Eunbi’s lucky she gets this all the time—bet she brags about it.” Eunbi pulls back from your nipple, grinning up at Somi. “Damn right I do,” she says, all smug. “He fucks me so good—wait ‘til you see him wreck me next.” Somi laughs, breathless, her hips slamming down faster. “Oh, I’m watching, bitch—gonna steal some moves.” Their dirty talk’s bouncing around you, filthy and raw, and you’re just soaking it in, hands gripping Somi’s hips tighter as she rides you like she’s trying to break you.

Then it’s Eunbi’s turn. Somi slows down, reluctantly climbing off, her pussy leaving you slick and throbbing as she flops beside you, panting. “Your girlfriend’s up,” she says, smirking, brushing her sweaty hair back. Eunbi straddles you quick, her softer, curvier frame settling over your hips, her big tits swaying as she gets comfy. She grabs your cock, guiding it to her pussy, and sinks down slow, letting out this long, shaky moan as you fill her up. “Fuck, babe,” she breathes, her voice all soft and needy, “always so good.” She starts riding you, her movements smoother than Somi’s, her hips rolling in deep, lazy circles that make her massive tits bounce, heavy and full. The camera’s still catching it—the way they jiggle, her nipples hard and pink, her pale skin glowing under the lights.

Somi’s not idle—she shifts closer, her hand sliding up Eunbi’s thigh, then leaning in to suck on one of her bouncing tits. Her lips wrap around the nipple, loud and wet, sucking hard as Eunbi moans sharper, her rhythm faltering for a sec. “Oh fuck,” Eunbi gasps, her hands tangling in Somi’s blonde hair, pulling her closer. Somi pulls back just enough to talk, her voice muffled against Eunbi’s skin. “Fuck your girlfriend, dude,” she says, glancing at you with that masked grin, “she’s dying for it.” Then she dives back in, sucking harder, her tongue flicking over Eunbi’s nipple as Eunbi rides you faster, her pussy squeezing you tight.

“Goddamn, babe,” you groan, hands gripping her hips, feeling the softer give of her flesh compared to Somi’s firmness. “You’re so fucking wet—love watching you bounce on me.” She smirks down at you, her eyes half-lidded, all lust and heat. “Yeah? Love your cock splitting me open,” she says, Somi’s right there, her mouth switching to Eunbi’s other breast, leaving the first shiny with spit. “Shit, look at her go,” Somi mutters between sucks, “fucking your girl like a pro.” Eunbi laughs, breathless, grinding down harder. “He’s mine, but I’ll share—just keep sucking my tits like that.”

“You’re so fucking hot riding him,” Somi says, pulling back to slap Eunbi’s ass lightly, making it jiggle more. “Bet he’s losing his mind.” Eunbi fires back, “He fucking loves it—look at his face.” And she’s right—you’re gritting your teeth, groaning, caught up in the heat of her pussy, the bounce of her tits, Somi’s mouth all over her. Your hands roam, sliding up Eunbi’s sides, brushing Somi’s arm, keeping them both close as they tease and fuck you senseless. Then Eunbi slows down, rolling her hips a little more on your cock before pulling out and passing the turn to her friend.

Somi’s still buzzing from her last ride, her skin flushed and sweaty as she climbs back onto your lap, that mischievous glint in her eyes flashing through the masquerade mask. “Yes! My turn again,” she says, grabbing your cock with a quick, firm grip. “And this time, I’m taking it in my ass—I fucking loved that shit earlier.” She’s not messing around, already lining you up, the tip brushing her tight hole. You groan as she sinks down slow, her ass stretching around you, hotter and tighter than before, her long legs trembling as she adjusts. “Fuck, yes,” she hisses, tossing her blonde hair back, her firm, round ass pressing against your hips as she takes you all the way in. The sensation’s unreal—her walls clamping down hard, her moans sharp and needy as she starts moving, slow at first, testing it, then picking up speed. Her massive tits bounce with every roll of her hips, the slap of her skin against yours loud in the room, the RGB lights painting her in wild streaks of color.

You’re lying flat, hands gripping her thighs, but your mind’s already racing ahead. You glance at Eunbi, who’s kneeling beside you, her curvy body glistening, her pussy still dripping from riding you earlier. “Babe,” you say, voice rough, “sit on my face—I wanna eat you out.” Her eyes light up, a dirty smirk spreading across her lips. “Fuck, yes,” she says, scrambling over quick, her thick thighs straddling your head. The camera on the tripod next to the bed is angled masterfully—a perfect side shot of Somi riding your cock in her ass and Eunbi lowering her pussy onto your mouth. The red light blinks on, capturing everything as Eunbi settles in, her wet, puffy lips brushing your mouth, her scent hitting you hard—sweet and musky, all sex and heat. You dive in, tongue lapping at her folds, tasting her, and she moans loud, her hands bracing on your chest as she grinds down.

Somi’s riding you harder now, her ass bouncing fast, the tight grip driving you wild as you thrust up to meet her. “Shit, your cock’s stretching me so good,” she pants, leaning forward, her tits swaying with every move. Eunbi’s rocking her hips on your face, her juices coating your chin, and you suck on her clit, making her gasp, her fingers digging into your skin. “Fuck, babe, eat me—don’t stop,” she groans. The camera’s got it all—Somi’s toned frame slamming down on you, her ass jiggling, Eunbi’s softer curves grinding on your mouth, her big tits bouncing as she rides your face. The side angle’s perfect, the lights shifting from purple to red, their bodies glowing like some X-rated art piece.

Then it gets hotter—Somi leans forward, grabbing Eunbi’s face, and they crash their lips together, kissing sloppy and deep. Their tongues tangle, moans muffled against each other’s mouths, and their hands are all over each other’s tits, squeezing hard. Somi’s fingers pinch Eunbi’s nipples, tugging them just enough to make her whimper into the kiss, while Eunbi’s hands cup Somi’s bouncing mounds, kneading them rough. “Fuck, you’re so hot,” Somi mutters between kisses, her voice wrecked, her ass still slamming down on your cock. “Love watching you ride his face,” she adds, smirking against Eunbi’s lips. Eunbi pulls back just enough to gasp, “Yeah? Love how he’s fucking your tight little ass—slut.” They laugh, all breathy and lust-drunk, diving back into the kiss, their hands groping harder, their moans syncing up.

You’re in deep—Somi’s ass is relentless, squeezing you with every thrust, her rhythm fast and brutal, her firm cheeks slapping your hips. Your tongue’s buried in Eunbi’s pussy, lapping at her clit, sucking hard, her thighs trembling around your head as she grinds down. “Shit, babe, you’re killing me,” Eunbi moans, her voice hitching, her nails raking across your chest. Somi’s not letting up either, her hips rolling faster, her ass taking you deeper. “Fuck, he’s so big—feels insane,” she groans, glancing down at you, her masked eyes wild with heat. The camera’s catching every second—Somi’s blonde hair swinging, Eunbi’s messy bun bouncing, their tits pressed together as they kiss, the wet sounds of your tongue and Somi’s ass mixing with their gasps and curses.

“Goddamn, you two are filthy,” you mumble into Eunbi’s pussy, your words muffled but enough for them to hear. They break the kiss, laughing, Somi slapping Eunbi’s ass playfully. “Says the guy tongue-deep in his girlfriend while I fuck his cock,” Somi fires back, grinning, her hips grinding down harder, making you groan into Eunbi’s clit. Eunbi shudders, her hands gripping Somi’s shoulders now. “Keep going, babe—fuck, I love your mouth,” she says, her voice all raw and needy, her pussy soaking your face as she rocks faster. Somi leans in again, kissing Eunbi’s neck this time, sucking a little mark there. “He’s fucking you so good with that tongue, huh?” she teases, her hands squeezing Eunbi’s tits again, thumbs flicking her nipples.

Their dirty talk’s bouncing off the walls, all around you—Somi’s bratty edge cutting through Eunbi’s softer, desperate tone. “Shit, Somi, squeeze her harder—she loves that,” you say, pulling back just enough to catch your breath before diving back into Eunbi’s pussy, your tongue circling her clit fast. Somi listens, pinching Eunbi’s nipples rough, and Eunbi yelps, her hips bucking harder on your face. “Fuck, yes—like that,” she gasps, her voice breaking. Somi’s riding you like a damn machine now, her ass slamming down so hard the bed’s creaking loud, her moans turning into sharp little cries. “God, I’m gonna—fuck,” she stutters, her hands braced on your thighs as she grinds down, her ass clenching tight around your cock.

Eunbi’s right there with her, her thighs shaking around your head, her pussy pulsing against your mouth. “Babe, don’t stop—fuck, I’m so close,” she pants, her voice high and frantic, her hands tugging at Somi’s hair now, pulling her back into a messy kiss. Their lips crash together, tongues sloppy, moaning into each other’s mouths as they grope and squeeze, their bodies trembling. You feel it—Somi’s ass tightening hard, Eunbi’s pussy quivering against your tongue—and then they’re both gone, hitting it together. Somi’s hips stutter, her moans turning into a loud, “Fuck, yes!” as she shakes on top of you, her ass gripping you like a vice. Eunbi’s right behind, her thighs clamping down, her juices flooding your mouth as she cries out, “Babe—shit!” her whole body shuddering, her tits bouncing wild as she grinds through it.

The camera’s still rolling, catching it all from that side angle—Somi’s firm frame shaking, Eunbi’s softer curves trembling, their lips locked, hands all over each other’s tits, the RGB lights flashing over their sweaty, spent bodies. They break the kiss, panting hard, laughing through the aftershocks, Somi slumping forward a little, her ass still on you, Eunbi catches her breath while stroking your hair, her pussy still hovering over your mouth. “Fucking hell,” Somi mutters, grinning, “that was insane.” Eunbi nods, breathless, “Best ride ever, babe.” They’re a mess, and you’re right there with them, soaked and grinning.

finally Somi climbs off you, her ass leaving your cock slick and throbbing, and Eunbi slides off your face, her pussy dripping down your chin. You’re sprawled on the bed, chest heaving, the RGB lights pulsing over their flushed, trembling bodies—purple bleeding into red, then blue, like some kind of filthy rave. “Alright, babe,” Eunbi says. “time to make you cum—give us that fucking load.” Somi’s already nodding, her masquerade mask glinting as she brushes her sweaty blonde hair back. “Yeah, dude, we’re draining you dry,” she adds.

You sit up quick, grabbing the camera off the tripod with a shaky hand, flipping it back to POV mode. The little red light is still on, and you swing your legs over the edge of the bed, planting your feet on the carpet. Your cock’s standing tall, slick with their juices, twitching under the lights, and the girls don’t waste a second—they’re on their knees between your legs, a perfect mirrored pair of lust-drunk chaos. Eunbi’s softer, curvier frame presses close on your left, her huge tits brushing your thigh, while Somi’s taller, tighter body slides in on your right, her firm mounds already nudging your skin. They’re a sight—Eunbi’s pale skin glowing, her nipples hard and pink, Somi’s tan lines sharp, her darker nipples perked up, both of them sweaty and glowing, ready to finish you off. You angle the camera down, catching their faces—Eunbi’s sultry smirk, Somi’s masked grin—then lower, framing their tits as they scoot closer.

“Gonna give you the best fucking double boobjob of your life,” Eunbi says, her voice dripping with heat as she cups her tits, squeezing them together. Somi mirrors her, pressing her own boobs tight, her fingers digging into the flesh. “Yeah, these big-ass tits are gonna milk you stupid,” she chimes in, smirking up at you through the mask. They slide in sync, each pair of breasts hugging one side of your cock—Eunbi’s soft, plush mounds on the left, Somi’s firmer, perkier ones on the right. It’s a goddamn dream, your cock swallowed whole between them, the heat and pressure insane as they start moving. They bounce together, slow at first, finding a rhythm—Eunbi’s tits jiggling more, Somi’s staying tight and controlled, the contrast driving you fucking wild. The camera’s catching it all—the way your cock disappears between their sweaty, bouncing flesh, the little beads of sweat rolling down their chests, the wet squish every time they press tighter.

“Fuck, look at that,” Somi mutters, glancing down at your cock sandwiched between them. “Our tits are eating you alive—bet you’re dying to blow all over us.” Eunbi laughs, her tongue flicking out to wet her lips. “Come on, babe, give it to us—paint these fat fucking tits with your cum,” she teases, squeezing her mounds harder around you, her nipples brushing your shaft. You groan, your hands gripping the camera tighter as they work you, their movements syncing up—up and down, slow then fast, their spit and sweat making it slick and messy. “Goddamn, you’re so hard,” Somi says, her tone needy, almost whining, “fucking love feeling you throb between my boobs—cum for us, please.” Eunbi leans in closer, her breath hot against your cock as it peeks out the top. “Yeah, we’re your dirty little whores—begging for that thick load all over us,” she purrs, her eyes locked on yours through the lens.

They’re relentless, tits sliding faster now, the friction building, your cock trapped in this perfect, sweaty vise. Eunbi’s softer flesh molds around you, Somi’s firmer grip keeping it tight, and the combo’s got your head spinning. “Shit, you two are unreal,” you groan, voice cracking, the camera shaking as you fight to keep it steady. “These tits—fuck, I’m in heaven.” Somi smirks, leaning forward so her chin brushes the tip of your cock on the upstroke. “Heaven, huh? Wait ‘til you cum—gonna drown us in it,” she says, her hands squeezing her tits tighter, making you hiss. Eunbi’s not letting up either, her fingers tweaking her own nipples as she moves, her voice all desperate and slutty. “Come on, babe, give us that fucking cum—we need it, want it all over these big, juicy tits—please, fucking please.”

It hits hard—your whole body locks up, a growl ripping out of you as the first spurt shoots out, thick and hot, splattering across Somi’s right tit, then Eunbi’s left. They moan together, loud and pornographic, their tits still bouncing, milking you as you unload. “Fuck, yes!” Somi cries, her masked eyes wide as cum streaks over her chest, dripping down between her mounds. Eunbi’s gasping too, “Oh my god, babe—keep going, coat us!” and you do—spurt after spurt, ropes of it flying, hitting their tits, their necks, a stray shot catching Somi’s chin, another splashing Eunbi’s collarbone. It’s a fucking mess, white and sticky, pooling between their breasts, dripping down their stomachs, and they don’t stop—still sliding their tits around you, slower now, dragging it out.

“Shit, so much,” Somi mutters, her voice wrecked, her hands smearing the cum over her tits, rubbing it in like lotion as she keeps moving, her nipples shiny with it. Eunbi’s right there with her, her own chest a canvas of your load, her fingers scooping some up, grinning at you through the camera. “Fuck, babe, you hosed us—look at this mess,” she says, her tone all proud and filthy, her tits still pressed against your cock, milking every last twitch. Your eyes roll back, a groan escaping as they keep going, relentless, their soft, cum-soaked flesh squeezing you dry. “Goddamn, this is so fucking good,” you rasp, barely coherent, the overstimulation hitting hard as they wring out every drop, their hands slick, their moans echoing.

Then they shift—Somi leans over, her tongue darting out to lick a streak of cum off Eunbi’s tit, sucking her nipple clean with a wet, sloppy sound. Eunbi gasps, giggling through it, then returns the favor, her lips wrapping around Somi’s cum-covered nipple, sucking loud and messy. “Fuck, you taste good with his cum on you,” Somi mutters, smirking, her hands kneading Eunbi’s chest as she licks more, their tongues swapping your load back and forth. Eunbi moans, “Yeah? Then eat it all, you greedy whore,” and dives back in, her tongue lapping at Somi’s tits, both of them giggling and groaning, lost in the naughtiness. The camera’s catching every second—their slick, shiny bodies, the way they’re devouring each other, cum streaking their lips, dripping off their chins.

Finally, they pull back, panting, grinning, their chests heaving as they kneel there, a cum-drenched mess. Eunbi wipes her mouth, smirking at the camera, and leans into Somi, who adjusts her mask with a playful wink. “Well, fuck, that was wild,” Eunbi says, her voice all warm and cheeky, “hope you guys enjoyed the show—thanks for watching us get fucking wrecked.” Somi nods, giggling, “Yeah, you pervs—hope you came as hard as he did. See ya next time!” She blows a kiss, and Eunbi waves, all cute and bubbly despite the filth, their cum-streaked tits still front and center. “Bye, loves!” Eunbi chirps, reaching over to hit the stop button, ending the video with their naughty, beaming faces etched in the frame. The room falls quiet, just their heavy breaths and your pounding heart.

You slide the camera onto the nightstand, the little red light finally off, and flop back onto the bed, your body still buzzing from the insane high. The sheets are a tangled, sweaty mess beneath you. Eunbi and Somi are already up, giggling like kids caught doing something naughty as they rummage through the drawer by the desk. Eunbi pulls out a pack of wet wipes, ripping it open with her teeth, and tosses a couple to Somi. “Alright, cleanup crew,” she says, stepping over to Somi with a smirk. They start wiping each other down, the wipes gliding over their cum-streaked tits, leaving their skin shiny and clean. Somi’s giggling hard, swiping at Eunbi’s chest, her fingers brushing her nipples just enough to make Eunbi yelp and swat her hand away. “Fuck, stop teasing, you perv,” Eunbi laughs, smearing a wipe across Somi’s collarbone, chasing a stray drip that’s trickled down from her chin.

“So,” Eunbi says, tossing a used wipe into the trash by the bed, “what’d you think, Somi? First time getting railed on camera with us—rate it.” Somi pauses, peeling off the masquerade mask slow, revealing her full face—sharp cheekbones, big eyes, a grin that’s equal parts smug and dazed. She tosses the mask onto the desk, shaking out her blonde hair, and flops onto the bed next to you, her head landing on your chest like it’s her personal pillow. “Fucking loved it,” she says, stretching her long legs out across the sheets. “You two are hot as shit—like, I knew it’d be wild, but that was next-level. My ass is still tingling, and those titjobs? Goddamn.”

Eunbi laughs, grabbing her phone off the nightstand and sliding onto the bed beside you, her warm, soft body pressing against your side. “Glad you had fun, you little freak,” she teases, nudging Somi’s leg with her foot. Then she turns to you, her head resting on your shoulder, her messy bun tickling your neck. “What about you, babe? How was it?” You stretch out, one arm sliding under her, the other resting on Somi’s back as she snuggles closer. “Fucking awesome,” you say, grinning up at the ceiling, your voice still rough from all the groaning. “Hands down the best titjob of my life—those four massive tits all over me? I’m dead, bring me back just to do it again.” Eunbi snickers, her hand tracing lazy circles on your stomach, her nails grazing your skin just enough to make you shiver. “Yeah, we fucking killed it,” she says, all proud and smug, her breath warm against your collarbone.

Somi shifts, reaching over to the nightstand and snagging her vape, the sleek little device glinting under the lights as she takes a long pull. She exhales a cloud of sweet-smelling mist—strawberry or some shit—and settles back, her head on your chest again. “You know,” she says, her voice all mellow now, “we should do this again. But like, no cameras next time—just us, fucking for the hell of it. Pure pleasure, no script.” She smirks, blowing another puff of vapor toward the ceiling, the haze curling in the shifting lights. Eunbi hums in agreement, her fingers still wandering over your abs. “Fuck yeah, I’m in,” she says, glancing up at you with a lazy grin. “No pressure, just us getting nasty—sounds perfect, right, babe?” You nod, your hand sliding down her back, resting on the curve of her ass. “Hell yeah, count me in. Cameras are fun, but sometimes you just wanna fuck without the spotlight.”

Somi’s grinning now, taking another hit from the vape, the tip glowing blue as she inhales, then passing it to Eunbi, who waves it off with a laugh. “Nah, thanks—I'm into fitness now,” she says, snuggling closer to you instead. Somi shrugs, keeping it to herself, the faint buzz of the device humming as she lounges there, her long legs dangling off the edge of the bed. The room’s settling into this cozy, post-sex vibe—everyone’s loose, sweaty, satisfied, the tension melted away into something softer. Eunbi’s thumbing through her phone now, her head still on your shoulder, and suddenly her eyes light up, a little gasp slipping out. “Oh shit, check this,” she says, holding the screen up so you and Somi can see. It’s an Instagram DM from Sana—profile pic all sultry and artsy—inviting Eunbi to her podcast later this month. “Hey babe,” it reads, “loved your last vid—wanna come chat on the pod? Yujin told me a lot of good things about you and your boyfriend. You’re blowing up, girl.”

Somi leans over, squinting at the screen, her vape forgotten for a sec. “Wait, who’s Sana?” she asks, her brow furrowing as she props herself up on one elbow, her hair spilling over your chest. Eunbi grins, scrolling up to show Sana’s profile—tons of followers, clips of her podcast episodes, and a few spicy TikToks that Somi instantly recognizes. “Oh, she’s another adult content creator,” Eunbi explains. “Super hot, super chill—does solo stuff mostly, but her podcast’s huge. Talks about the industry, sex, all that jazz. Gets big names on there too.” Somi nods, her eyes lighting up. “Oh fuck, yeah—I’ve seen her on TikTok! That one where she’s in the red sexy dress, vibing to some trap beat? She’s fire.” She takes another pull from the vape, exhaling slow, then grins at you both. “Damn, you guys are legit climbing the ranks—congrats, you sexy fuckers.”

Eunbi’s beaming now, her cheeks pink with pride as she sets her phone down and curls up tighter against you, her hand slipping to rest on your thigh, casual but possessive. “Thanks, babe,” she says to Somi, then looks up at you, her eyes soft but sparkling. “It’s fucking wild, right? Like, we’re actually doing this—people are noticing.” You squeeze her ass, pulling her closer, your chest swelling with that same excitement. “Hell yeah, it’s dope,” you say. “You’re killing it, Eunbi—proud of you.” She smiles, all shy for a sec, then kisses your neck, her lips lingering like she’s savoring it. Somi watches, smirking, blowing a playful ring of vapor your way. “Aw, you two are cute—gross, but cute,” she teases, then settles back, her head on your chest again, the vape humming as she takes another hit.

And you’re lying there, a little smirk on your face, feeling good about finally saying yes to the threesome. At first, you weren’t sure—thought it might be awkward, maybe mess up what you and Eunbi had. But now, with them both next to you, all sweaty and chill after that insane session, you’re glad you went for it. It didn’t feel weird at all—just worked, like they both fit right in. Somi brought the crazy, Eunbi kept it familiar, and it was honestly a blast. No regrets—turned out way better than you figured.

The three of you are just crashed out, all tangled up, The RGB lights keep changing, throwing colors on the ceiling, and it’s a nice wind-down—relaxed, cozy, everyone still feeling it. Eunbi’s messing with your skin, drawing little shapes, Somi’s head’s on your chest, breathing slow, and you’re just taking it in. Eunbi’s rising fame mixes with how wild tonight was. It’s a solid night—real solid—and the idea of doing it again, cameras or not, lingers thick in the air like the sweet haze from Somi’s vape.

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honey-tongued-devil · 8 months ago

Note

Got a request: Jinx x Piltover reader who comes to the undercity a lot to see some action and excitement with Jinx thinking they’re from there only to find out that they’re from topside.

[Arcane preference zaunites] with a s/o from Piltover (viktor, ekko, silco, vander, jinx, vi, sevika)

In less than a week, I’ve gained 500 followers and over 20 requests, so I’ll ask you right away to please be patient. English isn’t my first language, and I don’t think I’ll be able to post more than two or three headcanons a week (since I also draw). I’m sorry to keep you waiting, but I just ask for a little patience. In the meantime, if you’d like to support me, you can follow me HERE (bluesky) even though I haven’t started posting seriously yet, or you can leave a tip HERE. That said, enjoy!

Viktor:

- The most versatile on the subject. He’s the first one who is constantly around the people of Piltover, studying and having his room at the academy, which is even located in a wealthy area.

- Generally, he doesn’t pay much attention to someone’s origins, but as the relationship grows more serious, memories of his early academy years become more vivid.

- Viktor is a chill guy, until he’s no longer chill, (at least the original one).

- Most heated discussions are likely to revolve around politics or events in the city. But as long as you don’t call the people from the Undercity “beasts,” “creatures,” “monsters,” “beings,” or “animals,” his anger won’t be directed at you.

- At some point, he won’t remember anymore that you’re from “different neighborhoods,” and since he needs a hand carrying things to the academy, he’ll start asking you to accompany him to the Undercity when he needs to make purchases or pick up pre-ordered items.

- And although it might scare or intimidate you at first, it won’t take long for you to get used to it.

- Although sooner or later, you’ll learn to change your clothes before going down to Zaun.

Ekko:

- The first meeting with Ekko is straight out of a book: you get caught in a crossfire, and before you can even begin mentally writing your will, an arm grabs you around the torso and pulls you away at such a high speed that you feel like throwing up.

- He can’t take people directly to the hideout, but he can offer you assistance as soon as you’re somewhere safer.

- This is why, the second time he saves you, he can’t help but joke about how it almost seems like you put yourself in danger on purpose, and that you could ask him out in a less dramatic way.

- Of course, he’s just joking to break the tension, but when you actually propose it, even just as a way to repay him, it’s the beginning of the end.

- Between your outfit and the fact that, having run into you twice in a crossfire, you were in some pretty dangerous places, the last thing he expected was for you to ask him to meet up at the bridge and then show up dressed like a Piltie.

- Before his meeting with Cait and the one with Jayce, this would’ve been a breaking point; he wouldn’t have shown up and would’ve just gone back. But now, even if he’s not thrilled, he’ll at least come over to complain that you didn’t tell him you were from the upper city.

- He’s resigned to this fate, but he still remains a bit suspicious and on guard, not knowing your political stance, why you were down there, or how you see the people from his city.

- Even as you become closer, he’ll never stop teasing you about your background. You’re drinking, and you drop your cup? “What a strange way Pilties have of drinking.”

Vander:

- Going down to Zaun without stopping by the Last Drop is a waste, which is why you’re lucky enough to run into the Hound of the underground right away. Not only is he one of the most influential people, but also one with a lot of connections.

- At Vander’s suggestion, you stay at the counter, and he uses the opportunity to ask you a few questions, curious: for example, why is someone from Piltover down in Zaun alone at that hour? What do you study, if you study, or what do you do for work, if you work.

- Vander is extremely sociable, and since he handles negotiations, he doesn’t hold hostility toward upper-city residents, though it’s rare to see them in these parts.

- It’s not even about flirting; he just wants to keep chatting and make sure he won’t have you on his conscience. He asks you to wait until closing, checks in on the kids to make sure everything’s okay and says goodnight, then walks you to the bridge.

- The more regular your visits to Zaun become, the more the other regulars at the Last Drop start to recognize you and get used to you, making that place quite pleasant. And then there’s the deal with the bartender: if you offer him a good chat, he’ll treat you to a good pint of beer.

- The toughest part of getting close to Vander is learning that he’s a single father to four kids, and seeing the hostile and shocked reaction of the younger ones when they find out you’re not from their city.

- But hate is taught, and even if it takes some time, they slowly start to get used to you. Maybe they won’t jump into your arms, but if you decide to stay over, they’ll make room for you or bring you something to dry your face with, in strict silence.

Silco:

- This man, though he may not look like it, is the embodiment of patience.

- It’s his goons who bring you to his office, and the first time, all it takes is a quick glance for him to know you’re not a spy, a rival, a drug addict, or a threat.

- Silco kills, but generally not without reason. So, the first time you have a heart-pounding panic attack from being dragged there, you get off with a warning: if they catch you poking around his business again, it won’t go so well for you.

- But today, Janna’s on your side, and you’re safe.

- The issue is much simpler than it seems: if you live in the Undercity, you know which places to avoid and which gangs control which areas. But if you’re just a foolish Piltie who likes wandering outside your own city, the odds of ending up in one mess after another are high.

- That’s why, the second time they catch you near one of their shipments, his goons already have their weapons drawn.

- This time it’s not even Silco who spares you; instead, a firefight with the Firelights breaks out nearby, and you’re just lucky that bigger problems show up at the right moment.

- It happens repeatedly: either you run into his goons and instinctively wave like an idiot, or you end up in restricted areas, and one of them who’s taken a liking to you motions for you to leave, or you start frequenting the Last Drop and see them all more often.

- Gradually, this brings you more often—and with less dread—to the kingpin’s office, who, since even his daughter likes you, first makes sure to get you a map of the Lanes because “you’re obviously so clueless you must be from Piltover” to keep you from getting yourself killed.

- Then he realizes you’re pleasant enough to let you hang out in his office on weekends, when the noise downstairs is so loud that he couldn’t work anyway.

Jinx:

- You’re essentially the “dumb Piltie” stereotype that comes to mind when people in Zaun talk about those from the upper city.

- Deciding to venture into the alleys without any experience or knowledge of the area purely out of curiosity wasn’t your brightest idea, but at this point, it’s too late to turn back.

- That’s why, after hours spent looking for something interesting—colorful explosions that have been common recently near the docks, some chase scenes—you find nothing, give up, and throw yourself into a bar.

- If it were evening, you might hope for more than just a jukebox playing country music, four young guys playing pool in a corner, and a girl sitting at the bar who looks half-asleep while the bartender cleans glasses, but you still decide to sit down and order something local.

- Everyone’s eyes are on you, but the moment the girl with long blue braids lifts her head, the others snap back to what they were doing, and she looks at you, still drowsy and a bit confused.

- Meeting Jinx is the beginning of the end; she rambles on, is relaxed, and the moment she hears you wanted action, she jumps off her stool and drags you out before you can even sip your drink.

- She has no particular reason—it's just rare to find someone who wants to have fun, although you quickly realize that her idea of “fun” involves risking your neck.

- The first time ends like that; you don’t even exchange names. When it gets late, she vanishes, leaving you no choice but to return to the bar in the following weeks, where you meet her again and pick up on that fun “tour.”

- This “tour” brings you closer, even if you never talk about deeply personal things because there’s never time.

- It’s one night when you’re sitting together on a rooftop, watching the distant lights of Piltover, that she learns the hard truth: you’re from the other side of the river. This single piece of information seems to destroy everything you had built. Without a word, she runs off, and you don’t find her at the bar at the usual time anymore, but you don’t stop trying.

- The bartender probably tells her, or she sees you, who knows, because weeks later you meet again, and she almost looks sad to see you.

- She expected you to give up, not to keep coming back despite how difficult she’d made it, which is why when you pull her into a hug, she stiffens, taking a while to hug you back.

- The closer you get, the more she becomes like a ghost. You even find her at your place, but you never see her on the streets in Piltover. She rarely stays over, but you know it’s because of personal issues.

Vi:

- Vi isn’t for everyone: she’s for those with a “savior complex” or hotheads who can take a couple of punches to the face.

- The reason you’re in Zaun, dressed incognito, is because your colleagues told you there’s some interesting stuff in the underground city’s shops.

- What you didn’t expect was that the “interesting find” curled up behind an abandoned building would be a person.

- Nothing too serious, just a brawl gone wrong. She’d hidden to tend to her wounds in peace, probably in that vulnerable “cornered wolf showing its teeth” state.

- Cooperation isn’t her strong suit, and, not to rely on Undercity stereotypes, but you imagine it’s also rare for anyone to help strangers wounded on the street.

- She becomes more docile after you simply stand by, “covering her back”—basically just staying put and shielding her from view.

- whenyou blurt out, “Forget gin; I need something stronger.” she starts to like you

- Once she recovers, she gestures for you to follow her, suddenly motivated by the urge to drink. Surprisingly, she takes you over the bridge to your own city, to a cozy pub that smells of wood.

- Drinking there becomes a habit; after a few drinks, you tell her you hate that the evening has to end, and she chuckles, flattered, before saying you can always do it again.

- And you do it again.

- You keep doing it until you end up kissing clumsily in the pub’s restroom, nearly knocking heads together, until she pins you to the wall and your brain signals a warning.

- You tell her you live nearby, suggesting you take things to your place, unknowingly revealing something you thought was obvious.

- She stares at you for a few confused seconds. “You didn’t tell me,” she says, but the truth is, Vi doesn’t hate upper-city people, so once the confusion passes, the alcohol and hormones work their magic, leaving that conversation as a problem for the next morning.

Sevika:

- Her only interactions with people from the upper city have been with Enforcers, but contrary to appearances, Sevika is a big, intimidating dog that’s actually quite tame.

- She doesn’t get her hands dirty unless necessary, so even though she has no fondness for Pilties, she’d never start a physical fight with one.

- You first see her in the Undercity, at the Last Drop, playing cards for a hefty sum of money against two shady types: one bald with a metal nose, and the other dressed like an out-of-place gentleman.

- It’s only when the game ends and she gets up to head to the bar that you clumsily manage to strike up a conversation, receiving nothing but a scrutinizing glance in return.

- She lets you buy her a drink despite the large sum she just pocketed, and when you compliment her on her play, she puffs up with pride and starts talking about how those two just cheated but still couldn’t win.

- For a moment—just a moment—she realizes she’s never seen you around here before, but then she goes back to talking and listening, fueled by the alcohol.

- Getting her out of your head becomes impossible, and if you catch her at the end of her shift, she’s even more relaxed. It doesn’t take many weeks before you find yourself with your knees over her shoulders in the Last Drop’s basement.

- Emotional or mental intimacy with Sevika comes at an incredibly slow pace, but she starts approaching you in the bar, and your “private encounters” become more and more frequent—until you try to make things more serious by inviting her up.

- Her reaction seems angry, but it’s more surprise; she hadn’t realized and didn’t expect it.

- She becomes a lot more guarded around you, until, in time, she learns to trust you again.

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eintausendschoen · 5 months ago

Text

POV: It is Valentines Day. You followed an invitation to a bar on Mount Helicon, for an event called "The Blue Hearts Club". A mysterious invite extended by a total stranger... with the promise of a relaxing night out. Some well deserved Me-Time.

At the door, the owner of the place greets you like she knows you. She says her name is Kalliope, one of the Muses, but you do not know her.

When she points you at a crowded table at the back of the room you follow.

There, of course, you realize what the invite meant by...

... "Me-Time. Uh-huh.... riiiiight..."

The Muse winks at you as she pases, distributing another round of drinks. "Welcome to Valentine's!", she laughs, and from across the table laughter joins: "Yeah, with yourself!!"

For @dxwart — sorry to spring this on you but ... ah... that WAISTCOAT just had to be shown around. 💜 (link to the artwork)

🤩Shoutouts to all the beautiful beautiful people who lend me their designs to play with to make this date happen. You are all AMAZING artists and THANK YOU for all the good vibes here and making Poseidonverse happen!!🤩

From left to right, top to bottom and then right to left again (in terms of order 🤌) because life in the sea is a circle: In purple and gold, Poseidon by @rin-sith - he is so much fun to draw it is riddiculous.

Next to him, the cheeky lil' king (who really isn't little at all, believe me, everyone else is just so enormous, there is a sizechart but it blew the scale) with the luscious hair and the prettiest scales: Poseidon in a more mortal-ish form by @ruthlessness69

Okay, you all know him and he's half across the table already. This king is having LA FIESTA tonight, because he got a list, and now he got more names. @messymoonmad - he did that all on his own, I swear by Styx. (I love him so much.)

Yeah, canon Poseidon. He was there first, and now he's having a hard time holding onto his drink. 😘

Seacreature at the back is the lower half of @tagzpite glorious Poseidon. He might have just lost a bet, but he is a good sport. Also, checking out that blue-haired devil across the table already. (I just borrowed him last minute, he got dragged along - hope it's alright. He'll be returned intact.) Next three... most chaotic throuple (if you can call it that) in the history of saltwater. Poseidon of @pink-noah tried to snatch the hand of @kamuch-kommandos hot dark menace. Got snatched in turn and poor him, Tall Dark and Handsome got a death grip. All just because Poseidon by @bigidiotenergytm went to win a dare and smooch the Big Gun at risk of ear-injury.

Guess @melodyartists Poseidon owe's him a drink now. (He squeezed in last minute when I stumbled upon your post where he introduced himself to the popular girls, and of course I had to bring him into this mess. Hope it's alright? :)) ) Poseidon by @anniflamma, but her awesome new design. He wanted a word with @neal-illustrator's (neals not active here afaik but tagging anyway), so they made an appearance. Mostly because...

...you know them, you love them, you windbaarrrghl. Is it Cloudysseus shlepping Cloudseidon in to steal grapes together? Is it Zeus spying on his brother's Valentines date? Nobody knows. @kdpartworks thank you so much for lending them - I'll return them safe and sound when Poseidon gets back home.

To his left... @wukyma - he did the vase-face again. Why is he so cute when he does that? I'm such a big fan this wet grumpy cat, especially with Polites. (And how do you draw his curls??? That was so hard!) Of course he'd sit next to Gorgeous by @arraunean and trade war stories. No armour for the bar, but these two are classic guys and this is Helicon, so the comfy draperies to go with the wine.

And last - your host's 'not-quite-boss': he's mine, :))

Happy Valentine's everyone <3

#epic the musical fanart #epic poseidon #poseidon #eintausendschoenart #etsart #digital #poseidonverse #fanart #poseidon interaction #greek gods

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kingkat12 · 10 months ago

Text

pornography (eric draven x reader)

WARNINGS: 18+, foul language, groping/fondling, dry-humping lol, mentions of substance abuse

summary: when you finally talk to Eric Draven in rehab, it doesn't take long before you get drawn together by a force stronger than anything you have ever encountered. it doesn’t help the situation that you eventually find out Eric has been drawing pictures of you… nude

word count: 2,337 PART 1, PART 2, PART 3

a/n: this is for all the girlies like me that just came home from watching The Crow and got their mind blown by how hot Bill was in it... holy fuck. had to write this blurb because I am so shaken up, I can't feel my face. enjoy!! there will be more parts hihi...

"I fucking hate pink,"

I couldn't believe that was the first thing I said to him-- the dark and broody stranger I had been eyeing through my first few weeks in rehab. He stared back at me, confusion swimming in his big green eyes, probably pondering why I had sat down next to him in the cafeteria. "Pardon?"

"It's a little ridiculous," I tried, watching as he put down his cutlery, pushing his food away as he gave me his full attention. Tugging at my pink sweater, which we were all wearing, I let out a nervous chuckle. "Whose idea was it to put a lot of addicts in pink, anyway?"

My eyes darted down to his hands as I waited for his answer-- they were huge up close, and completely covered in tattoos. I hadn't noticed them from afar; I had only noticed the ones peeking through the top of his shirt when he would pass me by in the hall, or the big eye he had on his chest that I had seen while passing by his room. I knew it wasn't nice to peek into his room while he was changing, but I was quite frankly starved of any male contact-- any girl would go crazy in here.

He eventually shrugged, giving me the answer I least expected; "I guess pink is supposed to be a calming colour. It's not that bad," I watched as the corners of his mouth tugged upwards, giving away hints of amusement. "Aren't you girls supposed to like pink?"

"Maybe," I mumbled, nudging food around on my plate with my fork. "I just don't like to wear it. It doesn't suit me."

The handsome stranger didn't seem to agree, another shrug following accompanied by a shy laugh. "I can't figure out whether you're being sincere or searching for compliments,"

This was most definitely not how I wanted to come off. I straightened up, resting my elbows against the table as I cleared my throat. "I'm just trying to make conversation,"

"... Why?"

"Because you've been staring at me almost as much as I've been staring at you," I put down my fork, hoping he didn't see how nervous I was. In truth, he had been staring-- it wasn't all purely one-sided. I had caught him staring at me in the courtyard, on my way to the shower, and I had also caught him lingering outside my room several times. He would usually leave when I came out, disappearing down the hall with speed I wouldn't even dream to catch up with.

He finally gave in to a smirk, nodding to himself as he lowered his head. "Sorry," It was clear that he hadn't thought he'd be called out like this. However, something told me he wasn't too upset about being caught either.

"Don't be," I said, feeling my anxiety ripping through my veins. Why was I indulging? "I just--"

It was at this moment that a guard appeared behind him, yanking him away from the table with a harshness that made me gasp. I clasped my hand over my mouth, watching as he barely reacted to the brutality.

"Guys and girls eat separately!" the guard yelled at me, slamming his fist down on the table.

My eyes widened, looking back at the handsome stranger. "But I-- I was the one who sat down here, he didn't do anything!" I protested, watching as the guard grabbed him and led him away. Groaning, I ran my hands through my hair, frustrated with the rules at this place. Why was it so fucking strict?

I eventually looked up just in time to see that the man had managed to turn around, smirking my way; "I'm Eric!" he said, holding back a laugh as he was shoved along the cafeteria for everyone to see.

Despite the horror washing over me for getting him in trouble, I managed to croak out my name as well. It seemed that he appreciated that I had at least tried to stick up for him-- What was it that I had just started?

My question would be answered a lot quicker than I had expected.

A few days passed, and more looks and stares were exchanged. I was dying to talk to Eric again. I knew I hadn't been sent to rehab to make friends or get feelings for someone, but something was gnawing at me to talk to him again. I wanted to be around him constantly; what was happening to me? I recognized this feeling-- it was the same feeling I got when I really, really craved something... Fuck, how I missed drugs. Maybe Eric was turning into a substitute?

It wasn't often that the door to Eric's room was open, but today it was. I wouldn't have noticed it if I hadn't taken the extra lap around the institute as usual, hoping to get a glimpse of him through the small window in his door. But today, I didn't have to get on my tippytoes to get a look-- there he was, picking up several drawings that had been scattered around the floor. His room looked like a mess, completely unlike how I was used to seeing it through the tiny window. This looked like the result of one of those raids that the prison guards sometimes did when they suspected there were hidden drugs in a patient's room.

I felt sorry for him; I knew how horrible it could feel to have someone rip through all your stuff. But as I bent down and picked up a few drawings that were at my feet, my lips parted in surprise.

It seemed I wasn't the only one caught off guard; Eric noticed me standing in his doorway, letting out a relieved sigh as he watched me inspect his drawings. He called out my name, leaning against the wall as he sized me up and scanned me, crossing his arms over his chest.

I cleared my throat; "Is this... me?" I held up the first drawing of the bunch. It was a sketch of me sitting in the courtyard, and I was sure that it was me-- I suppose it was my shock asking for confirmation.

Eric snickered, kicking off the wall. "Yeah... Sorry,"

"Stop saying sorry," I shuffled through the drawings, finding he had drawn me in multiple settings, and it was clear that I had been watched the few weeks I'd been here. "These are beautiful, Eric... I guess I'm honoured--" My words trailed off as I finally approached the last drawing. Was that...?

He didn't even try to take it away from me. Eric sighed, looking away as his cheeks flushed a light pink, similar to our uniforms.

Judging by his reaction, I had a feeling he wasn't so against me seeing this. It was a sketch of me, after all-- nude.

I had to swallow rather hard for anything to go down. I couldn't pinpoint why I wasn't absolutely horrified at this. "So... this is what you've been up to in here, huh?" There was no stopping the smirk that spread across my lips, holding back a flustered giggle. "This is next-level pervy, do you know that?"

It didn't take long before Eric's big hands ripped the drawings out of my hands, turning away as he shook his head. "Every artist needs a muse, no?"

"A muse? How can I be your muse if we don't know each other?"

"That's not how it works," he mumbled, throwing away the drawings into a heap on the bed. "Your beauty is all I need to get inspired."

This was enough to shock me into silence. I inhaled a sharp breath, stepping into Eric's room despite knowing it was forbidden. "So now you think I'm beautiful?"

Eric hummed, finally turning to meet my eyes. "It hasn't been the biggest secret, has it?" There was something playful about him, shameless, as though it didn't matter to him that I had just found his handmade porn. "It gets a little lonely in here, I guess. These drawings just... run out of me like water. Can't control it."

There was something so unimaginably tantalizing about Eric. Everything about him made me want to jump him then and there-- was it maybe the result of my withdrawals that were turning my brain into further mush? In a normal setting, this would have creeped me out to infinity and beyond, but knowing this was coming from the man I had been lusting after from afar for several weeks made me excuse it in a heartbeat.

I had no idea what possessed me to close the door to his room and lock it, knowing the repercussions could be severe if we were caught. But Eric didn't seem to mind; his green eyes widened, watching my every move like a hawk.

"It was really pretty and all... The drawing, I mean," I said, inching closer to where he had sat down on the bed. "But would you maybe want some inspiration for the next one?"

Eric's plush, pink lips parted, eyes rounding out in surprise. Despite his shock, his big hands reached out for me as I came closer, and he pulled me in between his legs. I could feel him caressing my back through my shirt, holding me with the utmost gentle touch. "I'll take all I can get," he murmured, looking up at me through his brows, a knowing smirk spreading across his face.

I let out a giggle as he pressed his lips against my stomach through my shirt, enjoying the intense feeling of someone against my skin again after all this time. Eric pulled away, glancing at the door before slowly trailing his fingers under my shirt, testing the waters.

It didn't take long before that wasn't enough for him-- my breath hitched as Eric grabbed my waist, pulling me down with him on the bed. I barely had time to think before the euphoric feeling of being kissed engulfed me. Our lips met in an open, soft kiss, almost as though we were scared to break the other if we were too needy or harsh. As I straddled him, I felt his hands tugging at my shirt, dipping back under the fabric once more. His fingers gently ghosted over my lower back, eventually ending up trailing small circles with his thumbs along the underside of my bra.

If I hadn't been so starved of any human contact in here, I would've never jumped the opportunity like this. But none of us knew how long we had until the guards would bust us, and it only fueled the adrenaline pumping through our veins. Our kisses became desperate, hungry, and I let out a whimper against his lips as he took the liberty of cupping my chest, feeling me up to his heart's delight. I knew I had been waiting for this moment since the first time I saw him, and I wasn't about to let it slip through my fingers-- I decided to let him do whatever he wanted to me, no matter what.

I could feel Eric's cock twitch beneath me, clearly aroused. It was also at this moment that he made me sit up, tugging my shirt off of me before laying back down to scan me. Was he memorizing my body for his next sketch? It wasn't every night that I had a handsome stranger beneath me like this, so I allowed him to trail his hands up and down my body, lips parting in delight. "Fuck... Yeah, this will do," he murmured, pupils dilating at the sight before him whether he wanted them to or not.

"You sure?" I asked, giggling to myself. My hands rested against his broad chest, letting out a sigh of delight; God, he was sexy. As I shifted in his lap, Eric's breath hitched as I seemingly sat down in the exact right spot. Almost as though he was possessed by instinct for a moment, he grabbed my hips, rocking me against him through the fabric of our clothes.

Who would've thought I'd be dry-humping this stranger and enjoy it so much? My hands gripped his shirt, a quiet moan spilling past my lips-- I had forgotten this feeling. This was mostly something I did when I was a teenager, before I figured out how to have proper sex with my high school boyfriend. But it felt so damn fucking good, desperate; it didn't take long before I leaned back down, capturing his plush lips in another kiss.

I craved him like water. I wanted him against me, in me, for him to take me in every possible position ever-- a deep, dark part of me knew I would be insatiable from now on.

But our moment of ecstasy was interrupted when a guard started banging his fist against the door, his muffled yells barely registering through my arousal. Despite my dazed state, it didn't take me long to drape my shirt back on, climbing off Eric with wobbly knees. "Shit," I mumbled, turning to him with wide eyes. "I'm screwed. We're screwed."

Everything about him was so damn beautiful. The kiss-swollen lips definitely didn't help how gorgeous I thought he looked right now. Despite the situation, knowing we were in deep shit, Eric let out a soft chuckle; "I don't think you're screwed enough, actually. We'll get to that another time,"

My eyes widened as I gave into a light giggle. There was no way this was happening-- had my naughty rehab dreams come true? The guard banging against the door was drowned out by the incessant ringing in my ears that festered through my mind as Eric leaned down to kiss me one last time; "I hope to see you around, if they don't kill us,"

"Yeah," I breathed, only now realizing how tall he was as I looked up to meet his gaze. This man was towering over me. Holy shit. "Can't wait to see your next masterpiece."

I couldn't wait. I really couldn't.

(a/n: PART 2, PART 3 here!! enjoy<33)

#the crow 2024 #eric draven x reader #the crow x reader #the crow fanfiction #eric draven fanfiction #the crow #oneshot #fanfic #fanfiction #smut #bill skarsgård #bill skarsgård x reader #bill skarsgard #eric draven

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tobiosbbyghorl · 2 months ago

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Code Blue, Hearts Too | psh

650 followers special!

pairing: student nurse! sunghoon x nurse! reader

wc: 10k

synopsis: Y/N, a dedicated nurse, and Sunghoon, a graduating student nurse, as they navigate the intense world of healthcare and a growing, undeniable attraction. From late-night shifts to stolen moments in supply closets, their professional bond turns into something deeper, but when rumors threaten Sunghoon’s graduation, Y/N pulls away to protect him. Can their connection survive the rules of mentorship, or will love break through the walls they’ve built?

The emergency department was already humming with tension when Y/N walked through the automatic doors, her badge swinging and her coffee still hot. Another day, another double shift. The fluorescent lights above buzzed faintly, but it was the familiar scent—antiseptic, sterile plastic, adrenaline—that grounded her. She was used to chaos. Thrived in it, even.

What she wasn’t used to was the new student nurse already standing at the nurses’ station, leaning far too comfortably against the counter like he owned the place.

He looked up as she approached, and the first thing she noticed was his face—sharp jawline, soft brown eyes, hair perfectly parted even at 6:58 in the morning. His ID badge hung around his neck, revealing:

Park Sunghoon. Student Nurse. Final Year.

“Morning,” he said with a smirk. “You must be Nurse L/N.”

She blinked. “And you must be too early.”

He laughed softly, unbothered. “I figured I should make a good first impression.”

“You’re not shadowing a CEO, Sunghoon. Just don’t kill a patient, and we’re good.”

He followed her down the hallway as she gave him a quick rundown of the day’s expectations. “You’ve been assigned to me for the next six weeks. Final rotation. That means I’m responsible for everything you do, good or bad. So, no flirting with patients, no disappearing for long bathroom breaks, and no thinking you know more than the nurses.”

“Do people usually flirt with patients?” he asked innocently, walking beside her. “Is that a thing?”

She gave him a look. “Not unless you want to be thrown into the linen chute.”

He grinned. “Noted.”

⸻

Just before the shift officially began, two more student nurses entered the ward—Jungwon and Sunoo—chatting quietly with clipboards in hand.

“Hey, you’re with Nurse L/N today, right?” Jungwon asked, glancing at Sunghoon with a quick smirk.

Sunghoon nodded. “Yeah. I’m with the scary one.”

Y/N raised a brow. “I can hear you.”

Sunoo stepped forward with a bright smile. “That’s why we like you, though. You keep us sharp.”

Y/N couldn’t help but smile back. “Good answer.”

Sunghoon blinked at the sudden friendliness. “Wait, you guys have already warmed up to her?”

Jungwon shrugged. “She actually helped me last week during a code. Told me exactly what to do. Super chill under pressure.”

“Also, she got me juice when I passed out during my first blood draw,” Sunoo added dramatically. “She’s basically our mom now.”

Y/N gave Sunghoon a look. “You could learn from your friends.”

“Oh, I will,” Sunghoon muttered, jaw tight. “I’ll be your favorite by week three.”

“We’ll see,” she said, already walking away. “Try to survive day one first.”

⸻

The shift was packed from the start. A suspected stroke in bay four. A toddler with a febrile seizure. A motorbike accident that left one man with a crushed femur and another with a punctured lung.

Sunghoon kept up better than she expected. He had quick hands and a focused stare. But there was still an edge of arrogance—like he knew he was good, and that made him a little reckless.

“Clamp the line tighter,” she barked at him as he adjusted a pressure bag. “You’re gonna let his pressure drop if you keep second-guessing.”

He nodded and followed, but she noticed the subtle clench of his jaw.

After the trauma was wheeled to CT, she caught him rubbing the back of his neck by the med cart.

“You did okay,” she admitted. “But this isn’t school. People crash fast here. You hesitate, they die.”

“I know,” he said. His tone was softer now. Less cocky. “I just—I didn’t want to screw it up.”

She looked at him a second longer than necessary. There was something in his voice. Vulnerability, maybe. But she turned away.

“Get used to screwing up,” she said. “Just don’t make a habit of it.”

⸻

They had dinner during their break—microwaved rice bowls in the staff lounge. Jungwon and Sunoo sat on the couch, halfway into a game of cards, while Sunghoon ended up at the table across from Y/N.

Sunoo glanced between them with a sly grin. “So, how’s Nurse Y/N treating you, Sunghoon?”

“She’s terrifying,” Sunghoon deadpanned.

“She’s nice to us,” Jungwon added with a shrug.

Y/N sipped her coffee with a smirk. “He just needs to earn it.”

Sunghoon met her eyes. “And how do I do that?”

“Stop trying to impress everyone and start listening,” she said simply.

He stared at her for a beat too long before replying, “You always this honest?”

“Only when I like someone,” she shot back, then stood. “You’ve got ten minutes left of break. Don’t be late.”

As she walked out, Sunoo elbowed Sunghoon with a grin. “Bro. You’re screwed.”

Sunghoon only sighed, eyes still on the door. “I know.”

⸻

Rounds were always chaotic, especially during the early shift change. Y/N walked quickly, her chart open in one hand, coffee in the other. Sunghoon trailed behind her, notepad tucked into his scrubs, trying to match her pace without tripping over a rolling IV pole.

“Keep up,” she said without looking back.

“I’m literally on your heels.”

“That’s the problem. Stay two steps behind. This isn’t a runway.”

He scoffed. “You walk like it is.”

She glanced over her shoulder with a raised brow. “Was that… your attempt at flirting?”

“No,” he said too fast.

She smirked. “Pity. I was gonna rate it a generous five.”

They reached the first bay—an elderly couple, Mr. and Mrs. Han, in for a minor fall. Mrs. Han sat beside the bed, clinging to her husband’s hand like he was still twenty-five and invincible.

“Good morning, Mr. Han,” Y/N greeted. “How’s the hip?”

“Still attached, thanks to you,” he said with a chuckle. Then his eyes drifted to Sunghoon, standing at the end of the bed, holding the chart.

Mrs. Han leaned in, squinting through her glasses. “Omo, is this your boyfriend?”

Sunghoon nearly dropped the clipboard.

Y/N laughed. “Definitely not. He’s a student.”

“He’s too handsome to be just a student,” Mrs. Han said slyly. “You should keep him.”

Sunghoon turned pink as Y/N smirked and scribbled something onto the chart.

“See? Even grandma’s rooting for you,” she muttered under her breath.

“She called me handsome,” he whispered back. “You’re just jealous.”

Y/N didn’t dignify that with a response—just handed him the chart and walked off.

He followed her into the next bay. “You are a little jealous.”

“I am your supervisor,” she said sweetly. “Don’t tempt me to assign you to mop duty.”

“You’re bluffing.”

“Wanna bet?”

He shut up after that—but the smug grin didn’t leave his face.

⸻

Later, they took vitals in the surgical observation ward, charted on tablets side-by-side, and bantered their way through patient interviews.

Sunghoon actually made her laugh at one point—like, really laugh—when a grumpy patient kept refusing meds and he deadpanned, “Sir, if you don’t take this Tylenol, I will personally write your obituary and make it dramatic.”

She snorted, then slapped his arm. “Stop. That’s not appropriate.”

“Did he take it, though?”

She shook her head, amused. “I hate that you’re good with people.”

He grinned. “Admit it. You like me a little.”

“Not even close.”

That softness—her half-smiles, the way she teased him without meaning harm, the way she still watched over him when she thought he wasn’t looking—lingered in his mind as they returned to the ER.

Sunghoon was mid-thought, debating whether to ask if she wanted coffee after rounds, when the trauma pager blared overhead.

CODE BLUE, TRAUMA BAY 2. MALE, 40s. UNRESPONSIVE. ETA 3 MINUTES.

The mood snapped.

Y/N was already moving. “Sunghoon, come on.”

They hit the trauma bay with barely a second to spare. The paramedics wheeled in a man pale and limp on the stretcher, the oxygen mask slipping slightly from his face.

“Suspected overdose,” one of the EMTs reported. “Unresponsive on scene. RR dropped en route.”

“Get him on the monitor,” the attending ordered. “Where’s the bag-valve mask?”

“I’ve got it,” Sunghoon said, reaching for the crash cart.

But the drawer jammed.

A beat passed.

Then another.

He looked up—saw the patient’s chest stalling. No air. No movement.

And he froze.

Everything blurred. The beeping. The shouting. His own heartbeat pounding louder than the alarms.

Y/N’s voice sliced through the chaos. “Bag him. Now!”

Still, his fingers didn’t move.

She shoved past him, mask already fitted in her hand. “I’ve got it!” she snapped, sealing the mask and beginning ventilation. “Start compressions! Move!”

The team jumped in, efficient, fast.

And Sunghoon just stood there.

Useless.

⸻

The patient stabilized. The code ended.

And Y/N didn’t say a word as she walked straight out of the bay.

Sunghoon followed her down the hall, chest tight, his skin burning with shame. When she pushed open the supply closet and yanked him in by the wrist, he didn’t resist.

The door clicked shut.

The air inside was tense and heavy. The overhead light flickered slightly, and the faint antiseptic scent filled the silence between them.

“What the hell happened out there?” she demanded.

He stared at the floor. “I—I froze. I know. I messed up.”

“You could’ve lost him, Sunghoon.”

“I know!” he snapped, voice breaking. “I knew exactly what to do, I just… I couldn’t move.”

She crossed her arms. “Why not?”

His voice dropped, defeated. “Because I didn’t want to do it wrong. Not in front of you.”

Y/N’s anger dulled into something more pained. “This isn’t about me.”

“It kind of is,” he admitted. “You’re the one I want to impress the most.”

That hung between them.

“You think I’m trying to be the best student nurse?” he asked, voice quieter now. “I’m trying to be good enough—for this place, for the patients… for you.”

Her lips parted slightly, surprised. But she didn’t move.

He took a hesitant step closer.

“I know I’m not there yet. But I want to be. And I need you to keep pushing me, even when I screw up. Especially then.”

Y/N’s brows furrowed, voice soft. “You scared me today.”

“I scared myself.”

He was too close now. The air too warm. Their eyes locked.

“You really care that much about what I think?” she asked, tone gentler.

He gave a short laugh, dry and honest. “You terrify me and I like it. That should tell you everything.”

She blinked—startled by the rawness of it.

The silence stretched, her heart thudding like it wanted to break the rules she’d set.

She reached for the door, voice low. “You’ll do better next time.”

He nodded, swallowing hard. “Yeah.”

Her hand paused on the knob. “Sunghoon?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re not the only one who’s scared.”

Then she left.

Leaving him alone, pulse racing, staring at the door like it had taken all the air with it.

⸻

The supply closet door shut behind her with a quiet finality, and Sunghoon stood there for a full ten seconds before realizing he needed to breathe again.

He leaned against the shelves, exhaled, and scrubbed a hand over his face.

You’re not the only one who’s scared.

Her words replayed over and over in his head like a record skipping in a quiet room.

He was still flushed when he stepped back out into the hall, only to come face-to-face with two devils in pastel scrubs.

Sunoo raised an eyebrow. “So… you and Nurse Y/N gonna make out in every supply closet or just this one?”

Sunghoon nearly choked. “What the—how long were you standing there?”

“Long enough,” Jungwon said innocently. “Is that what they meant by hands-on learning?”

Sunghoon groaned and tried to walk past them, but Sunoo blocked the way like a mischievous wall of judgment.

“Oh no, you’re not getting out of this. What happened in there? She looked… flustered.”

“So did you,” Jungwon added helpfully.

Sunghoon narrowed his eyes. “You two seriously need to get a hobby.”

Sunoo gasped, fake-offended. “You are our hobby.”

“You’ve been heart-eyed for her since orientation,” Jungwon said, casually flipping through his clipboard. “It’s kind of adorable. Kind of pathetic.”

“I’m not—” Sunghoon began.

“—in love with her?” Sunoo cut in. “Please. You literally follow her around like a puppy. When she yells at you, you look happy.”

“I do not.”

“She called you incompetent yesterday,” Jungwon said. “You said ‘thank you’ like it was a compliment.”

Sunghoon sighed dramatically. “It was constructive criticism.”

Sunoo smirked. “Look, no shame. We get it. She’s hot. She’s terrifying. That’s… kind of your type?”

“I don’t have a type,” Sunghoon muttered.

“Oh, you do,” Jungwon said. “And it wears black compression socks, drinks three cups of coffee before 9 a.m., and rolls her eyes every time you try to impress her.”

Sunghoon scowled, but the corner of his mouth twitched. “You two are actually insane.”

“And you’re in denial,” Sunoo said brightly. “Just confess already.”

“Not happening.”

“Why not?”

“She’s a registered nurse. I’m still a student. And she literally threatened to assign me to mop duty yesterday.”

Sunoo wiggled his brows. “Kinky.”

“Get out of my face.”

⸻

Later that afternoon, the three of them reviewed cases together in the student breakroom. Y/N passed by once—just once—and Sunghoon immediately straightened up like he’d been caught doing something wrong.

She didn’t even glance at him.

But Sunoo did. He leaned over and whispered, “You’re so whipped, it’s actually poetic.”

Sunghoon threw a pen at him.

⸻

The hospital’s volunteer-run community clinic was smaller, slower-paced—an intentional shift from the high-pressure chaos of the ER. But that didn’t mean it was calm. It just had a different kind of buzz: tired patients with long waits, kids squirming in plastic chairs, and the hum of fluorescent lights overhead.

It was also—unfortunately for Sunghoon—where he had his Friday rotation.

With Y/N.

And Sunoo.

And Jungwon.

A dream and nightmare rolled into one.

⸻

Sunghoon stepped through the clinic’s back entrance, balancing a tray of vending machine coffees, and almost immediately collided with Y/N, who was shrugging into her navy cardigan.

“Whoa—sorry!” he said quickly, coffee tray wobbling.

She steadied it with one hand, the other grabbing his forearm instinctively. “You good?”

“Yeah,” he breathed. “You?”

Their eyes locked—just for a beat too long.

Then she dropped her hand and nodded at the cups. “Are any of those for me?”

He blinked. “Oh. Yeah. Here.” He handed her the exact one she liked: two sugars, no cream.

She raised a brow, impressed. “Look at you. Learning something useful.”

He smiled, a little proud. “Still terrified of you, though.”

“Good,” she said, smirking behind her cup. “Keeps you sharp.”

Sunghoon didn’t realize he was still watching her until Jungwon came up from behind and whispered, “Blink twice if you’re in love.”

Sunghoon glared. “Get a clipboard, Jungwon.”

⸻

Inside, the clinic was packed. They divided tasks: Y/N handled triage and diagnostics, while Sunghoon assisted with wound dressings and quick consults. Jungwon ran back and forth between rooms, and Sunoo—somehow—ended up entertaining the waiting kids by drawing cats on gauze pads.

Hours passed in a blur of stethoscopes, bandages, and sneaked glances.

Sunghoon was finishing up with an elderly patient when Y/N stepped into the room to help wrap the man’s foot.

Their fingers brushed as they reached for the gauze at the same time.

It was subtle—but the spark was immediate.

She didn’t pull away.

“Thanks,” he said quietly.

“For what?”

“Not giving up on me. After the code last week.”

Her eyes softened, just slightly. “I told you. You’ll get better.”

“I want to be the kind of nurse you’d trust on your team someday.”

A beat of silence.

Then her voice, softer. “You already are.”

⸻

Later, during a lull, Sunghoon collapsed into the break room chair, exhausted. Y/N was already there, legs curled under her on the worn-out couch, eating half a granola bar and scrolling through her phone.

He sat down across from her, resting his head against the wall.

She peeked over. “Long day?”

“I can’t feel my spine.”

She tossed him the other half of her granola bar. “Here. Eat. You look like you’re about to code yourself.”

He caught it mid-air, surprised. “You sharing snacks now? Is this… progress?”

“Don’t make it weird.”

“You’re literally hand-feeding me.”

“I threw it at your face.”

“Same thing.”

She laughed—just a soft one, but real. He’d take it.

That’s when Sunoo and Jungwon appeared in the doorway like twin demons.

“Wow,” Sunoo said loudly. “Intimate snack-sharing. We’ll leave you two alone.”

Sunghoon threw the granola wrapper at him.

“Do you guys need supervision?” Y/N asked, deadpan.

“Only if you’re into that,” Jungwon quipped.

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Go clean something.”

They didn’t move.

So she stood up—slowly—and added, “Or I’ll assign you both to bathroom inventory.”

They scrambled like rats.

Sunghoon was laughing when she sat back down beside him.

“You’re scarier than our preceptors.”

“I’m softer than I look,” she said.

And for a second, he saw it.

The quiet kindness. The way her guard slipped when she thought no one was watching. The warmth in her eyes when she wasn’t putting up walls.

He shifted closer.

She didn’t move away.

For one long moment, the clinic buzz faded. It was just them, shoulder to shoulder, sitting on a cracked leather couch with the fluorescent lights humming above.

Their faces were too close.

His voice came out a whisper. “Can I ask you something?”

Her eyes flicked to his, then his lips. “Yeah?”

He hesitated.

She leaned in just a little—

Then the intercom crackled: “Nurse Y/N, consult in Room 3.”

She blinked, pulled away fast. “Duty calls.”

He exhaled hard as she stood.

Before leaving, she paused, glanced back at him, and smirked. “Next time you want to kiss me, you might have to be faster.”

Then she was gone.

And Sunghoon sat there, stunned, heart in his throat, replaying that one sentence over and over.

⸻

Morning Shift.

The first patient of the day was an elderly man with a broken arm. He was chatty, more interested in talking about his cat than his injury, and Sunghoon was grateful for the distraction.

Y/N stood next to him, handing him the necessary forms with a soft smile, but the moment Sunghoon’s hand brushed hers again—completely by accident—there was that unmistakable charge in the air.

She cleared her throat and quickly moved to gather supplies. “You’re clumsy, Sunghoon,” she said, her voice a little higher than usual. “I’m surprised you’re not still tripping over your own feet.”

“I don’t trip—well, maybe a little,” he admitted with a sheepish grin. “But I’m learning.”

She rolled her eyes. “You better. Or I’ll have to start assigning you to less dangerous tasks. Maybe holding the clipboard for me. You know, the easy stuff.”

Sunghoon watched her as she worked, her eyes focused on the task at hand, yet the smallest smile tugged at the corners of her lips whenever their eyes met. He couldn’t help but wonder if she was trying to avoid something.

⸻

Lunchtime.

By noon, the clinic quieted down a bit. The lull was always the best time to catch a breath, and Sunghoon found himself walking into the break room to grab a drink. He didn’t expect to see Y/N sitting alone by the window, her coat draped over the chair beside her.

For a moment, the sight of her alone, so casually relaxed, made his chest tighten. He felt that familiar pull to sit next to her, to talk to her like they’d done so many times during their shifts. But this time, the tension was undeniable, like there was something more there, waiting to be addressed.

He approached cautiously, but as soon as she saw him, her gaze flicked up to meet his, and she froze.

“Sunghoon,” she said, her voice almost too soft. “What’s up?”

He didn’t trust his voice, so instead, he sat beside her. There was no question—it was comfortable. Despite the unspoken tension, there was a strange ease in the air between them.

Y/N turned her gaze back to the window, and Sunghoon mirrored her. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to say. It felt like there was something pressing between them, but neither of them knew how to bring it up without breaking the fragile silence.

“You know,” she said, breaking the quiet, “You’re always quiet when you’re near me. Like you’re afraid to say something wrong.”

Sunghoon’s heart skipped a beat. He turned to look at her, only to find her watching him with that damn knowing expression. The one that had been driving him mad for weeks now.

“I’m not afraid,” he said, though his voice came out quieter than intended. “I just… don’t want to mess up.”

Her eyes softened, and for the first time in a long while, she looked at him without that professional edge.

“You’ve been trying really hard, haven’t you?” she asked gently. “To be better. To be good enough.”

Sunghoon didn’t know how to respond to that, so he just nodded, feeling an unfamiliar tightness in his chest.

Before he could say anything else, the door to the break room slammed open, and in walked Sunoo and Jungwon, both grinning like they knew something he didn’t.

“Well, well, what do we have here?” Sunoo said, his voice dripping with playful sarcasm. “A quiet moment between the nurse-in-training and the actual nurse?”

Sunghoon shot him a glare, but Jungwon was already leaning in, whispering to him, “Is this where you confess, or do we need to stage a covert mission?”

Y/N snorted, unable to hide her amusement, and that was enough to send Sunghoon’s frustration bubbling over. “You two are impossible,” he muttered under his breath, though there was no real malice behind his words.

Jungwon tapped Sunghoon’s shoulder and pointed to the door. “We’re on call in five. Time to get back to pretending to be competent, right?”

⸻

Late Night Shift.

By the time evening rolled around, the shift had become a blur. The patients were all routine, but the real chaos was brewing in the air between him and Y/N. They were slowly closing up for the night when she caught him staring at her again.

This time, she didn’t let it slide.

“You’re looking at me again,” she said, a little teasing, but her voice was softer than before. “Is there something on my face?”

Sunghoon snapped out of his trance, but before he could answer, a loud beeping noise interrupted them—the monitor at the nurse’s station was flashing.

Without thinking, Sunghoon jumped up to check, but as he did, his foot caught on the edge of the chair, and he stumbled forward.

Y/N rushed to catch him, her hands landing on his chest, and their faces were suddenly inches apart.

Neither of them moved.

For a long second, neither of them said anything. Sunghoon’s pulse was pounding in his ears as he realized how close they were, how easy it would be to just lean in…

But he didn’t. He couldn’t.

The moment passed, but it left them both breathless.

“I—” Sunghoon began, but Y/N cut him off.

“Just get the monitor,” she said quickly, stepping back.

Sunghoon nodded, feeling the heat on his face. It was like a weight pressing down on his chest, and he wasn’t sure if he could handle it for much longer.

He got the monitor under control, but as he walked back to Y/N, he couldn’t help but feel the unspoken tension pulling them back together.

Before he could say anything, Sunoo and Jungwon walked by the hallway, glancing at them, then smirking.

“Guys, it’s cute, but please—no one’s dying of a broken heart in here,” Sunoo said, grinning.

Jungwon looked at Sunghoon with a pointed expression. “It’s okay, man. We’re all rooting for you.”

Sunghoon shot them a glare.

⸻

The shift was fast-paced, the patients endless, and Sunghoon had just barely managed to catch his breath before the next task was assigned. But of course, there was no time to relax when Heeseung was always around—always moving with an easy confidence, his every action smooth and practiced.

Today, Heeseung was working alongside him, but it felt like they were in two different worlds. Sunghoon was still in the “nursing student” mode—trying to prove he could keep up with the seasoned professionals. Meanwhile, Heeseung? He was the rock star nurse, the one who made every task look effortless.

It started with something small—seemingly small.

⸻

The Gauze Incident.

The moment came when they were both assigned to a patient who had just come in for a minor procedure. The patient’s wound needed to be dressed, and Sunghoon, eager to prove himself, darted toward the supply cabinet to grab the necessary materials.

Just as he reached for the gauze, he felt a tap on his shoulder. He whipped around to see Heeseung, who was holding the exact same gauze package with a smile that felt just a little too knowing.

“Beat you to it,” Heeseung said casually, as if he’d already won the race.

Sunghoon stiffened, his stomach tightening in irritation, even though he tried to keep his tone neutral. “Yeah, I see that. But I still have to prep the patient.”

Heeseung grinned. “Sure, sure. But just remember, it’s not about speed. It’s about precision.”

Sunghoon couldn’t help the eye roll that escaped him. Precision? What’s he talking about? “You’re such a show-off.”

“I’m just confident,” Heeseung replied, winking. “You’ll get there, rookie.”

Sunghoon forced a smile, not able to mask the flicker of frustration in his chest. He could feel the tension creeping in. I can’t let him get to me. It’s just a gauze. But the truth was, it wasn’t just the gauze. It was the way Heeseung made everything seem so effortless. The way he talked to patients with ease, the way they all gravitated toward him, and the way Y/N sometimes looked at him, laughing like he was the funniest person in the room.

That’s not just it, Sunghoon realized. It’s about her.

⸻

The Stethoscope Challenge.

Later that afternoon, things escalated again when Sunghoon found himself in another friendly “competition” with Heeseung—this time over the stethoscope. They’d both been asked to check on a patient’s vitals simultaneously.

Sunghoon moved to the patient’s left side, securing the stethoscope around his neck and preparing to listen to the patient’s heart rate. Heeseung was already by the other side, but before Sunghoon could even start, Heeseung placed his hand gently on the patient’s wrist.

“Let me do it,” Heeseung said with a lazy smile, his voice smooth, almost playful. “I’ve got this.”

Sunghoon’s brows furrowed. “We’re supposed to do this together, remember?”

“Sure,” Heeseung replied, but he didn’t budge. “But the patient is already relaxed with me.”

Sunghoon felt his jaw clench. So that’s how it’s gonna be, huh? He wanted to argue, to snap back, but the patient was watching them, and he couldn’t risk looking petty.

He took a breath, stepping aside reluctantly. “Fine. But you’re really pushing it, Heeseung.”

Heeseung gave him a knowing smile. “I’m just here to help.”

⸻

The Final Showdown—Who Gets the Chart First?

The final straw came when they both reached the nurse’s station at the same time. There was one chart left to be signed off on—just one. And Y/N was standing by the station, casually reviewing some papers, her back to them.

Heeseung’s eyes lit up the moment he saw the chart. He moved toward it like a predator zeroing in on its prey.

“I’ll get it,” Heeseung said, his tone teasing. “I’ve got some notes for the patient. You mind, Sunghoon?”

Sunghoon’s heart rate picked up, the competitive edge in him flaring. I don’t mind? You think you can just take it?

Before Heeseung could make his move, Sunghoon stepped forward, grabbing the chart with just a little more force than necessary.

“I’ve got it,” Sunghoon said quickly, his voice firmer than he’d intended. “You’ve been signing off everything else, Heeseung. Let me handle this.”

Heeseung raised an eyebrow. “Alright, alright. I wasn’t trying to steal it from you, geez. Just thought I’d help out.”

Sunghoon didn’t care. It wasn’t about the chart. It was about winning—proving he could keep up.

⸻

Y/N’s Subtle Observation.

As the day wore on, Y/N noticed the little “games” they’d been playing—mostly because she’d caught them a few times. She watched Sunghoon’s brow furrow whenever Heeseung took charge, and she noticed the way Sunghoon was almost overcompensating—whether it was rushing through his tasks, answering questions before they were asked, or just trying to prove something.

Later that evening, she caught him in the break room, leaning over a sink with a sigh, clearly worn out.

“You okay?” Y/N asked, her voice soft. “You’ve been on edge today.”

Sunghoon blinked, turning toward her with a forced grin. “Yeah, just the usual stuff. You know, keeping up with Heeseung.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “You’ve been competing with him all day.”

Sunghoon rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “It’s nothing. Just a little fun, right?”

Y/N crossed her arms, tilting her head, a teasing glint in her eyes. “You sure? You look like you’ve been trying to prove something.”

Sunghoon stiffened. Am I that obvious?

She smiled lightly, uncrossing her arms. “You know, Sunghoon, Heeseung’s not trying to take your spot. He’s just… well, Heeseung.”

Sunghoon’s heart skipped at her words, but the tension in his chest didn’t fully ease. “I know,” he muttered. “I just want to make sure I’m good enough.”

Y/N blinked, surprised. “Good enough for what?”

He didn’t say anything for a moment, and the silence hung thick in the air. Finally, he sighed. “For you, for this place. Just… good enough.”

Y/N smiled warmly at him, her gaze softening. “You are good enough, Sunghoon. You just have to believe it.”

⸻

The Unspoken Realization.

As they prepared to clock out for the day, Sunghoon stood by Y/N, suddenly aware of how much he wanted her to see him as more than just a student nurse. More than just a guy who was trying to catch up to the others.

And maybe—just maybe—Heeseung’s friendly competition wasn’t the real issue here.

⸻

The storm outside howled, fierce winds rattling the hospital windows as rain hammered the roof in a relentless downpour. The usual hum of the hospital was muted, the corridors quieter than usual, the usual rush of foot traffic dampened by the weather. Nurses and doctors alike had been instructed to stay inside the building, as the storm had caused flooding in some parts of the city. Shifts had been extended, and the team was stuck for the foreseeable future.

For Sunghoon, this felt like the longest night of his life.

He glanced at Y/N from across the hallway as she pulled on her scrub jacket, the wind outside gusting against the walls. Their shifts had been chaotic; patients were coming in non-stop, the ER was backed up, and now, a fresh round of complications had left the staff running in every direction.

Heeseung, the ever-present, confident nurse, had already been assigned to a new hospital—his skills in high demand after a major staffing shortage at a nearby clinic. Sunghoon hadn’t been thrilled about the change. It had always been a strange dynamic between him and Heeseung, but with Heeseung gone, something felt… off. Even though the rivalry was never overt, it had kept Sunghoon on his toes, pushing him to prove himself. Without it, there was an empty space that he hadn’t anticipated.

“Hey, Y/N,” Sunghoon called, walking over to where she was standing near the break room, peering out the windows, her face thoughtful. She turned to him, offering him a tired smile.

“Everything okay?” she asked, her voice softer than usual.

“Just…” he paused, glancing out the window at the rain. “Just a lot of work tonight.”

Y/N nodded. “I know what you mean. I think everyone’s running on fumes.”

He smiled faintly, his eyes still lingering on her. “We should grab some blankets. For when the night goes longer than expected. The storm might have knocked out the heater in the supply closet.”

“I’m on it,” Y/N said. “Meet you there?”

He nodded, then both turned to head down the hall toward the supply closet, where extra blankets were kept in case the night stretched into the early hours. As they walked, the silence between them felt heavier than usual—comfortable, but somehow laced with unspoken things.

The supply closet was small, even for the two of them. It was cluttered with boxes, extra sterile gauze, and various supplies, and when Y/N reached for the top shelf to grab the blankets, she bumped against Sunghoon’s chest.

She froze for a moment, and in that brief instant, the proximity felt much too intimate—too personal, as if the world outside was momentarily paused. The small, stillness lingered in the air between them, heavy and thick.

Sunghoon’s breath hitched, and he felt the warmth of her body against his, the electricity that surged through him at the contact. His hands instinctively reached for the shelf as well, brushing against hers.

Her back brushed his chest again as she shifted, and the small, confined space made everything feel a little too close. Neither of them said a word, the silence amplifying the tension between them.

After a long pause, Sunghoon’s voice dropped, a hushed tone as if he were unsure whether he should say it. “You always smell like lavender.”

Her breath caught at his words. She hadn’t expected that—his comment felt almost too personal, but it also felt like something that had been there all along. Something he’d noticed, but never mentioned.

Y/N turned slightly to meet his eyes, and she felt a rush of warmth in her chest. “It’s a body wash I’ve been using for months,” she explained softly, not sure why she was offering the detail but suddenly wanting to share something with him.

He smiled faintly, his gaze softening for a moment. “It’s nice.”

They stood there for a few beats longer than necessary, the moment stretched thin by the closeness, the space too small, the unspoken things too large between them. He almost wished he could say more—ask her why she always smelled like that, if she wore it on purpose, or if it was just something she didn’t notice.

But before he could, the sudden noise of the emergency paging system broke the spell, and they were jolted back to reality. The quiet of the night came crashing in, dragging them both back into the chaos of the hospital.

⸻

The break room was dim, lit only by the faint glow of a flashlight that Y/N had managed to find after the power went out. It flickered, casting shadows across the room, but it was the only light they had. Sunghoon and Y/N sat at the small table, their faces illuminated by the flickering light, a quiet exhaustion settling over them.

“I can’t believe we’re stuck here all night,” Y/N said, letting out a deep sigh as she leaned back in her chair.

“Yeah,” Sunghoon agreed, his voice quiet, but his gaze lingering on her. “But… I’m kind of glad you’re here.”

Y/N smiled, but it was softer than usual, the tension from earlier still lingering in the air. “I think you’re just happy I’m not running off to work at another hospital,” she teased, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

Sunghoon chuckled, the sound low and warm. “You know I’m not that dramatic.”

“Not dramatic?” Y/N raised an eyebrow, as if not believing him. “Come on, you’re definitely one of those ‘everything’s a crisis’ type of people.”

His smile faded a little, and he leaned forward slightly, his hand brushing the edge of the table, closer to hers. “Maybe. But it’s different when I’m around you.”

Her heartbeat quickened, and she could feel the charge in the air between them. She reached for her mug of coffee, trying to hide the way his words made her feel, trying to pretend she didn’t notice how the space between them felt just a little bit too small.

The flashlight flickered again, and for a moment, the silence stretched between them—heavy, thick, filled with unspoken words.

Y/N’s hand moved instinctively across the table, her fingers brushing his, and they both paused. The soft contact was a momentary connection, but it felt significant. His fingers curled around hers, gently, but there was an intensity in his touch that made her heart skip.

Their fingers stayed intertwined for a moment too long, the silence in the room amplifying the weight of the simple act. It was as if everything in that moment froze, the noise of the storm outside, the chaos of the hospital, all faded away, leaving only the two of them.

Before either of them could say anything else, the door to the break room burst open, and a nurse rushed in, face urgent.

“Emergency in Room 312. We need both of you!”

The moment shattered. Sunghoon quickly stood up, and Y/N followed, their fingers reluctantly separating. The energy between them had shifted, but before they could explore it further, they were both thrust back into the chaos of the night.

⸻

As they rushed to the room, Sunghoon couldn’t shake the feeling that something had changed between them. He wasn’t sure what to make of the touch, the soft words, the unspoken promise in her eyes. But for the first time, he was certain of one thing—he didn’t want to leave this feeling behind.

And as Y/N walked beside him, the storm still raging outside, a soft thought crossed his mind. Maybe, just maybe, this storm could lead them to something more.

⸻

By the time the emergency in Room 312 was stabilized and the chaos temporarily quelled, the hospital halls fell into a lull. The storm outside still raged, but inside the ER, the tension had eased—just enough for the exhaustion to creep in.

Y/N leaned against the nurse’s station, stretching her back and letting out a low groan. “I think my spine turned to dust an hour ago.”

Sunghoon plopped into the chair beside her, rubbing his eyes and sighing. “If it makes you feel better, I’m at the stage where I’d sell my soul for a warm pillow and a blanket.”

She let out a tired laugh, bumping her shoulder into his. “You’re such a drama queen.”

“Says the one who moaned like a grandma five seconds ago.”

Their laughter echoed softly down the hall, warm and sleepy.

Sunghoon watched her as she tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. Her face looked tired, but beautiful in the faint glow of the emergency lights still running in parts of the wing. He hesitated for a moment, then tilted his head slightly toward the dim hallway.

“Come on,” he said quietly, voice mischievous. “Break room’s empty.”

Y/N narrowed her eyes playfully. “You planning to sneak in a nap during shift hours, Mr. Almost-Graduate?”

He grinned. “What’s the point of being your favorite student if I don’t abuse that privilege at least once?”

“You’re assuming you’re my favorite.”

“I know I’m your favorite,” he said without missing a beat, walking backward with a cocky little smile that made her roll her eyes—and follow him.

⸻

The break room was quieter than before. A few blankets from earlier were tossed in the corner, and the fluorescent lights above flickered gently. A faint hum of vending machines filled the silence. The storm still whispered against the windows, but everything else inside felt still.

Sunghoon sprawled onto the couch, pulling one of the thin blankets over himself before motioning for her to join him. “Come on. I’m not sleeping while you’re still out here suffering.”

“I’m not suffering,” she scoffed, but her limbs were lead-heavy, and the couch looked painfully inviting.

After a second’s hesitation, she sat beside him, both of them squished onto the narrow couch. Their bodies brushed—knees bumping, shoulders aligned, the kind of closeness that was undeniably intimate, but too comfortable to feel awkward anymore.

Y/N tugged the blanket to share it between them.

“I swear to God, if you fall asleep and drool on my shoulder, I’m clocking out and leaving you to fend for yourself,” she muttered, adjusting the blanket.

Sunghoon turned his head lazily toward her. “I don’t drool. I’m a classy sleeper.”

“Sure you are,” she teased. “I’m sure Jungwon would back you up.”

“Jungwon said I look peaceful when I sleep.”

“Oh, so you’ve got a sleep witness.”

“Jealous?” he smirked.

She elbowed him, making him grunt and laugh.

A silence settled over them, not uncomfortable, but filled with something softer. Sleep tugged at both their eyes, and slowly, her head tilted to the side—landing gently against his shoulder.

Sunghoon froze.

He didn’t dare move.

Her lavender scent filled his senses again, and despite the thunder rolling outside, all he could hear was her quiet breathing. His heart pounded a little harder, not from nerves anymore, but from the sheer awareness of her.

⸻

It wasn’t long before a familiar crinkle broke the silence—Sunoo, standing at the door holding a bag of vending machine snacks with a mischievous smirk.

“Well, well, well,” he said, popping a chip into his mouth dramatically. “What do we have here?”

Y/N jerked awake, blinking rapidly as she sat up. “Sunoo?! How long were you standing there?”

“Long enough to consider leaving you two snacks as an offering.”

“Shut up,” Sunghoon muttered, his ears slightly pink.

Jungwon appeared behind Sunoo, holding two bottles of water and raising an eyebrow. “Didn’t realize this couch came with couple’s privileges.”

“We weren’t doing anything,” Y/N said, though she was already grabbing a chip bag to change the subject. “Just resting.”

Sunoo’s eyes twinkled as he sat on the arm of the couch. “Resting… dangerously close.”

Sunghoon grabbed the chips from her hand and popped one in his mouth just to stop himself from saying something dumb. His pulse still hadn’t slowed from having her so close just moments ago.

Y/N, lips twitching in amusement, grabbed them right back.

They all sat there for a while, sharing snacks, teasing each other, and basking in the strange, cozy quiet of a hospital caught in the eye of a storm. The power flickered again, and the vending machine buzzed like it might give up—but inside the room, the warmth stayed.

At some point, Sunoo and Jungwon dozed off in the chairs. And once again, Sunghoon and Y/N found themselves shoulder to shoulder on the couch, sharing warmth beneath a scratchy hospital blanket.

This time, when her head landed on his shoulder again—he didn’t freeze.

He leaned into it.

And smiled.

Because maybe being stuck in the hospital overnight wasn’t the worst thing in the world… not when he had her next to him.

⸻

The hospital was always buzzing—monitors beeping, wheels squeaking across linoleum, pagers ringing through the air. But lately, it buzzed with something else.

Whispers.

It started small. A knowing glance here. A muttered comment there.

Then someone caught sight of Sunghoon loitering near the nurse’s station long after his shift had ended—clearly waiting for her. Another time, he’d “just happened” to help Y/N restock linens she didn’t ask for. He stood closer than necessary when talking to her, smiled wider than usual, eyes lingering a beat too long.

To the untrained eye, it could’ve been harmless.

But hospitals breed gossip like bacteria.

⸻

“Park,” a voice called out one morning during pre-rounds.

Sunghoon turned, raising a brow as one of his fellow student nurses, Minji, approached him. She crossed her arms.

“You might want to tone it down,” she said flatly. “People are talking.”

Sunghoon blinked. “Tone what down?”

“You and Y/N,” she said pointedly. “You’re being obvious. Some of the senior staff are starting to notice. You don’t want this getting reported, do you? You’re graduating soon. Don’t risk it.”

He stiffened.

The warning settled like lead in his gut.

⸻

Y/N heard about the rumors from a different nurse, in a passing whisper that hit her like a slap. It was framed casually—“You know people are saying he’s a little too attached to you, right?”—but the implications rang loud in her head.

She was immediately on high alert.

The next day, she pulled away.

Back to form. Back to structure. Strict again, focused. She corrected Sunghoon’s charting without the usual teasing, kept conversations painfully professional, didn’t look at him longer than necessary.

Sunghoon noticed the shift instantly.

He didn’t push at first—thought maybe she was tired.

But after a full day of being treated like just another name on her roster, he cornered her near the stairwell after shift.

“Y/N,” he called out softly.

She turned too quickly, like she’d been hoping he wouldn’t speak to her at all. “Sunghoon. I have to head upstairs—”

“No,” he said gently but firmly. “You’ve been avoiding me.”

“I haven’t—”

“You have,” he interrupted, voice laced with quiet hurt. “You won’t even look at me.”

She exhaled, jaw tight. “I heard what people are saying.”

“So what?” he said, stepping forward. “They’re rumors. Who cares?”

“I do,” she snapped, eyes glinting with something between fear and frustration. “You’re graduating soon. Do you want to risk that because someone thinks I’ve been too friendly?”

“It’s not just friendly.”

She flinched.

His voice was low, sincere.

“I like you,” he admitted, brows drawn. “I thought—God, I hoped—you knew that by now.”

She looked away, swallowing hard. “That’s the problem.”

The silence that followed was thick. Unbearable.

Sunghoon looked at her like he was trying to memorize her face. “I get it. I do. But don’t treat me like I’m just some dumb kid with a crush. That’s not fair.”

“I’m your mentor,” she whispered.

“For now,” he replied. “But I won’t be forever.”

She didn’t answer.

And he didn’t push.

⸻

The last day of clinicals arrived too fast.

The entire ward seemed to buzz with energy. Everyone loved Sunghoon—patients, staff, even the notoriously grumpy supervisor from OR. Jungwon and Sunoo teased him mercilessly, snapping photos and calling him “our local hospital heartthrob.”

Someone made him a tiny paper crown.

Y/N had stayed out of the spotlight all morning, but as the clock inched toward shift end, she quietly arranged a little celebration near the nurse’s station. Just for the student nurses.

There were cupcakes. Coffee. Printed polaroids of funny moments throughout their time in the hospital.

When Sunghoon approached, the others cheered. Y/N smiled and handed him a small gift bag—a pen engraved with “You’re going to make a great nurse.”

He looked down at it, and then at her, eyes glassy. “You planned this?”

She nodded. “You earned it.”

Their fingers brushed briefly. Too brief.

The party moved on around them—Sunoo making a toast about how he’d miss “his emotional support rival” and Jungwon giving a half-serious speech like it was an awards show.

But eventually, Sunghoon had to go.

Y/N stood by the elevators when he approached. He looked good in his uniform—hair still a little messy from hours of movement, but eyes bright and full of something she refused to name.

“I just wanted to say thanks,” he said. “For everything.”

She offered a polite smile. “You did all the work. I just guided you.”

“That’s not true,” he said, holding out a small white envelope. “Don’t open it here.”

Her fingers curled around it without thinking.

He hesitated a second, then stepped into the elevator.

And just before the doors closed, he said softly, “If things were different, maybe I’d ask for more than your mentorship.”

⸻

Later that night, she opened the letter in her apartment.

It was short, neat handwriting she immediately recognized.

Y/N, my boss nurse

Thank you for being more patient with me than I deserved.

Thank you for pushing me when I wanted to give up.

Thank you for being someone I looked forward to seeing every day.

I’m sorry if I made things harder.

I never wanted to jeopardize your job or my future.

But I meant everything I ever said to you.

And if it ever feels like things can be different…

Call me.

[XXX-XX-XXX]

Y/N stared at the digits at the bottom of the page for a long, long time.

Her heart thudded in her chest.

Because even though he was gone now—finished, graduated, moved on—he’d left behind more than a number.

He’d left hope.

⸻

Sunghoon’s graduation ceremony was held in one of the city’s larger academic halls, packed wall to wall with caps, gowns, and the proud hum of voices echoing beneath the tall ceiling. Families clutched bouquets. Cameras clicked. Applause rang in waves as each name was called.

From his seat near the front, Sunghoon scanned the crowd automatically.

He told himself not to look.

Told himself she wouldn’t be here.

She hadn’t called. She hadn’t texted. It had been weeks since that letter.

But still.

Hope was a stubborn thing.

And then, in the upper left wing of the balcony—half-shrouded by shadows and dressed in scrubs like she’d come straight from shift—he saw her.

Y/N.

She sat alone. No flowers, no fanfare. Just her hands clasped neatly in her lap, eyes quietly following him as he stood to walk across the stage.

Their eyes met for only a second.

But it was enough.

She was there.

She came.

And in that fleeting, barely-there glance, everything in his chest that had been wound tight slowly… unraveled.

⸻

After the ceremony, his phone buzzed.

He was surrounded by noise—Jungwon snapping goofy selfies, Sunoo loudly pretending to cry and thanking “his baby boy Sunghoon” for surviving three years of caffeine and chaos.

But none of that compared to the message that lit up his screen:

Y/N: congrats, my fav student nurse.

Sunghoon’s heart did something ridiculous.

He grinned.

Wide. Giddy. Stupid.

⸻

He stood at the edge of the campus lawn, people swirling around him like a celebration in motion. But his world had narrowed down to one small screen and six simple words.

She came.

She watched.

She texted.

And maybe—just maybe—she hadn’t closed the door entirely.

His fingers hovered over the keyboard for a moment before he finally typed back:

Sunghoon: Didn’t think you’d come.

Sunghoon: You didn’t say anything.

Sunghoon: But I’m glad you were there.

The typing bubble on her end appeared. Then disappeared. Then appeared again.

He waited, holding his breath.

Finally:

Y/N: I wasn’t sure I should be.

Y/N: But I’m proud of you. So proud.

Y/N: You’re going to be an amazing nurse.

Sunghoon bit his lip, fighting the urge to grin again.

Sunghoon: Guess that means I’m not your student anymore, huh?

A pause.

Then—

Y/N: No. You’re not.

A beat passed. Then another message came.

Y/N: So if you wanted to ask me to dinner…

Sunghoon blinked.

Stared.

Smiled.

And finally, under the fading sunlight and the buzz of celebration around him, he replied:

Sunghoon: I thought you’d never ask.

⸻

Sunghoon double-checked his reflection in the café window, smoothing down his collar before pushing the door open. He wasn’t nervous—he told himself that multiple times during the ride over.

But the way his heart skipped when he spotted Y/N sitting at the corner table, sipping on something iced and lavender-colored, betrayed him entirely.

She looked up and smiled.

And everything tilted just a little.

⸻

“You’re late,” she said, eyebrow raised, though her tone was soft.

“Traffic,” he replied, sliding into the seat across from her. “And existential dread.”

She laughed. “Still dramatic.”

He grinned. “Still your favorite.”

Her smile faltered for the smallest second, caught between nostalgia and something new. “I didn’t know if you’d actually say yes.”

“I’ve been waiting for a chance to say yes.”

Her fingers curled around her cup. “I didn’t think it’d feel this strange.”

He tilted his head. “Does it feel wrong?”

“No,” she murmured. “Just… different. We’re not at the hospital. No buzzers. No supply closets. No patients between us.”

“No rules,” he added quietly.

A beat of silence passed.

And in it, the air between them changed—just slightly.

She looked up, voice more tentative. “And no excuses.”

Sunghoon swallowed. “Do we need any?”

⸻

They talked for hours—eating slow, sharing bites of dessert, laughing at old moments from the ward. He told her about his first interview next week, she teased him for almost fainting during his first blood draw. The ease came back like muscle memory, but underneath it, something new had settled in.

Something less guarded.

When they walked out into the warm night, the sidewalk was quiet and still damp from an earlier drizzle.

He walked her to her car.

“I really missed this,” he said, shoving his hands in his pockets.

She leaned against her door. “I did too. More than I wanted to admit.”

There was a moment—brief, heavy, weighted with all the words they hadn’t yet said.

He took a step closer.

“You know this doesn’t have to be one dinner, right?” he asked.

She tilted her chin up. “What are you saying?”

“I want more,” he said. “More than just a dinner. More than supply closet tension. More than one kiss that never happened.”

She bit her lip, softening. “We really never did kiss, huh?”

“Not officially.”

The pause lingered just long enough for the air to still.

Then, finally, she said, “So kiss me now. Let’s make it official.”

And when he did—when his hand came up to gently cup her cheek and his lips met hers in a kiss that was sweet and sure and years in the making—there were no rules, no titles, no student or mentor.

Just them.

[Bonus scene]

The break room was dim, lit only by the flickering vending machine light and the steady glow of a desk lamp someone had left behind. The hospital night shift was unusually quiet—an eerie calm that made it the perfect time to cram for the nursing board exam… if you weren’t already dead tired.

Y/N leaned back in the creaky couch, stifling a yawn as she reached for the flashcards. “Alright, Park. One more round and then I’ll let you take a five-minute nap that lasts two hours.”

Sunghoon sat cross-legged on the floor in front of her, hoodie sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his hair tousled and eyes slightly bloodshot from the long shift and even longer studying. His books were sprawled across the coffee table with color-coded tabs sticking out like battle scars.

He looked up with a lazy grin. “I’m starting to think you like torturing me.”

She raised an eyebrow. “And yet you begged me to quiz you.”

“Because I like the sound of your voice when you talk about cardiac meds,” he teased, grinning when she rolled her eyes.

She threw a peanut butter cup at him. “Focus, Romeo. Signs of digoxin toxicity. Go.”

He caught the candy mid-air, still smirking. “Green halos, bradycardia, GI upset, visual disturbances… and my personal favorite, confused ghosts.”

She blinked, then snorted. “You mean confusion. But sure, ghosts. You’d find a way to flirt with a specter, wouldn’t you?”

“Only if she wore lavender.” He glanced up at her meaningfully, a little more serious now. “You always smell like that.”

She paused, lips parting slightly.

Lavender. The same scent as the lotion she kept in her locker, the one she only used on night shifts to stay calm. He remembered.

“Sunghoon…” she said quietly.

But he looked away first, cheeks faintly pink, mumbling, “Keep going. If I fail, I’m blaming you.”

⸻

It had been three agonizing weeks since he took the exam, and Sunghoon swore he aged at least a decade.

He was walking out of a convenience store when the notification pinged on his phone: NCLEX Results Available.

He didn’t even wait to get to his car. Right there in the middle of the sidewalk, he tapped through the results portal with shaking hands.

Status: Passed.

He just stood there, wind cutting through his hoodie, staring at the screen until his vision blurred.

He passed.

He actually passed.

There were a million people he could’ve called first, but his fingers moved on instinct. He pulled out the pen she had given him—still kept safely in his hoodie pocket—and clicked it like a grounding motion before opening his messages.

[Sunghoon🩵]: RN, officially. Passed on the first try.

He attached a picture of himself holding his results, eyes glassy and grin too wide. The background was a little blurry, but he made sure one thing was clear—the lavender pen in his hand.

Y/N didn’t respond for two whole minutes.

Then:

Y/N: Told you. Superhero material.

Y/N: You remembered the pen?

[Sunghoon🩵]: I brought it to the exam. It was my lucky charm.

Another pause. Then:

Y/N: I’m proud of you. So proud.

And for a moment, all the exhaustion, anxiety, and stress of the past few months faded beneath those words.

⸻

He hadn’t planned to stay at the same hospital.

At first, he wanted to explore, stretch his wings. Try something new.

But then… the thought of not seeing her in the hallway, not hearing her call out sarcastic remarks across the station, or missing her coffee cup balanced beside the vitals cart—it made his chest ache more than he wanted to admit.

So when an opening popped up at the hospital where he did his clinicals, he applied in secret.

He even used a different email so she wouldn’t catch on.

And when the offer came—with the exact department she’d be in—he accepted immediately.

Jungwon called him dramatic.

Sunoo just said, “You’re either in love or insane.”

He just grinned. “Aren’t they kind of the same thing?”

⸻

Y/N was already three hours into her shift, juggling charts, setting up orientation packets, and trying not to scream at the broken coffee machine.

“Okay,” she said, clapping her hands to get the new nurses’ attention. “Today’s gonna be a mess, so smile through the pain. I’ll give you your assignments after a quick tour of the east wing.”

A few sleepy groans and nervous nods followed.

She turned around to lead them out—and then stopped dead in her tracks.

There he was.

Fresh uniform. ID badge clipped to his scrub pocket. Hair pushed back. And that damn smile on his face.

Park. Freaking. Sunghoon.

Y/N blinked. “You…”

“Surprise,” he said, flashing his badge like a movie reveal. “Guess who’s officially your coworker now?”

“You applied here?”

“Yup.”

“Without telling me?”

“That ruins the drama,” he said, stepping closer so the others couldn’t hear. “Still my favorite boss nurse.”

She tried not to smile. Really, she did.

But he pulled the lavender pen from his chest pocket, tapping it against his clipboard meaningfully.

And just like that, she was smitten all over again.

“You’re going to make this shift hell for me, aren’t you?”

He leaned in, eyes warm. “Only if you don’t assign me to bed 3. I heard the patient there likes flirting with tall nurses.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You’re impossible.”

He winked. “And yet, here I am. For you, Boss Nurse”

taglist: @chvconn3 @sievenderz @doririsstuff @ynzzy

permanent taglist: @ijustwannareadstuff20 @hoonielvv @rjssierjrie @firstclassjaylee @morganaawriterr @rikifever @daisyintherainsposts @kkamismom12 @pocketzlocket @semi-wife

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everrinsly · 2 months ago

Text

a/n; this is so silly and super long but made me laugh haha i hope you enjoy too

a momager and her silly olympic team.

big, strong olympic babies. fluff. fem!reader. | not proofread.

more olympic team shenanigans here!

more reads!

જ⁀🏐⁀🏐

It was supposed to be a simple procedure.

Just a quick blood draw—routine anti-doping protocol for the Olympic committee.

Simple, clean, quick.

In, out, done.

But you should’ve known better.

Because you were managing Team Japan, which meant logic and peace left the chat the second you walked into the small medical room with the group of oversized children and two very tired authority figures.

જ⁀🏐⁀🏐

“Can’t we just pee in a cup or somethin’?!” Atsumu whined, clutching his arm like it had already been severed. “Why does it gotta be blood?”

The nurse blinked at him, void of any emotion, and calmly replied, "You'll pee in the cup after your blood is drawn."

"WAIT—we gotta do BOTH?!"

"Well shit... I don't even have any pee left in me."

"Should I chug some water now?"

You glanced sheepishly over your clipboard as the nurse rolled her eyes for the fifth time.

“Iwaizumi," she sighed. “You said they were professionals.”

Iwaizumi, standing beside you with his arms crossed and murder in his eyes, growled lowly. "How about everyone sit the fuck down—they are. They’re just being idiots.”

“IT’S A NEEDLE, IWA.” Bokuto wailed from his seat, gripping the armrest like it might save him. “LIKE A PIERCING METAL STABBER. RIGHT INTO MY VEINS!”

“It’s like ten inches long,” Hinata whispered in horror, eyeing the straight needle like it might leap into his skin. “Why is it so long? Does it even need to be that long?!”

“I feel faint,” Atsumu muttered, already lying dramatically across two chairs. “If I die, tell ma I love her. Not 'Samu though.”

Suna eyed Atsumu with a slow grin before pulling his phone out. "Say hi to Osamu. I'm gonna show him what a wimp you are—"

"NO—THE FUCK YOU AREN'T—"

Aran slapped the back of Atsumu's head before he got a chance to lunge at Suna. "How about both of you cut it out before I call your guys' worst nightmare."

"Who?"

"Kita."

"Oh."

"ARAN—I thought you were my friend—"

"Mm, no. Not when you're acting like that."

જ⁀🏐⁀🏐

“ALRIGHT, who’s up first?”

The nurse's voice cut through the chaos in the room, loud but monotone, like she was already done with Team Japan not even two minutes in.

As she prepped a set of vials and associated straight needles, Sakusa stood immediately, calm as ever. “I’ll go.”

“SEE?” Iwaizumi barked from behind you. “Like a normal adult. Thank you, Sakusa.”

Hinata whispered something in awe.

“He takes the flu vaccine every year,” Komori whispered back like it was a bedtime story.

Sakusa made a face at Komori under his mask, eyes squinting. "Did you all not take your flu vaccine?"

“I did,” Ushijima raised his hands, a twitch of a smile gracing his lips.

“I was busy,” Atsumu offered.

“Busy doing what?” Sakusa snapped. “Scrolling through food TikTok?!”

"I mean... I was doing that," Suna shrugged.

You placed a gentle hand on Sakusa’s arm, trying to soothe him. “Hey, it’s okay—”

“No, it’s not okay,” Sakusa said darkly. “I’m surrounded by disease-ridden volleyball toddlers.”

He let out a sigh of disappointment before he sat down, pushed up his sleeve, and barely blinked as the needle slid into his arm.

“I don’t like watching this,” Atsumu muttered.

“Then don’t watch it,” you replied, not even turning around as you helped the nurse line up the next tubes. “You’re all professional athletes. You face blocks going 100 kilometers an hour. A needle should not be this scary.”

“That’s different,” Kageyama mumbled.

“How?” you deadpanned.

“Blocks don’t stab you.”

You snorted and glanced over your shoulder just in time to see Hinata clutching Komori’s arm like he was about to face a death sentence.

“You’re not even next, Hinata,” Komori whispered, patting his head.

“Yet!”

“Alright, all done,” the nurse smiled at Sakusa.

He stood up, rolled down his sleeve, and dusted off his hands like he’d just finished a perfectly timed serve.

જ⁀🏐⁀🏐

“Who's next?”

Suna stepped forward next, hands tucked in his jacket pockets.

You raised a brow. “Didn’t expect you to be so brave.”

“I have a tattoo,” he said dryly. “Needles and I have an understanding.”

That earned a round of complaints.

“Wait, Suna goes next?!” Atsumu pointed at him, offended. “Just ‘cause he has a tattoo doesn’t mean he’s not scared!”

Suna lifted his shirt slightly to flash a bit of ink on his ribcage. “Wanna see if I flinch?”

You and the nurse both rolled your eyes.

"Put your shirt down. You're gonna cause a PR scandal again, Suna," Aran said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“You’re such a show-off,” you murmured, but there was a smile tugging at your lips.

While Suna got his blood drawn (and, true to his word, didn’t flinch at all), Bokuto started pacing like he was about to give a TED Talk titled How I Conquered Fear (Just Kidding).

“I’ve never fainted,” Bokuto said, puffing out his chest. “But like, what if today is the day? What if my blood just—whoosh—rushes out too fast?”

“Bo,” you sighed, “that’s…not how blood draws work.”

“But what if it is?” he wailed.

“It’s not!” Iwaizumi groaned.

જ⁀🏐⁀🏐

Coach, who had entered five minutes ago and said absolutely nothing, was now quietly combusting in the corner.

Aran leaned in to whisper in your ear. "Coach is this close to losing it, isn't he?"

"Think he's already lost it," you laughed. "You all better be prepared for the special punishment drill tomorrow."

Everyone went dead silent.

"Wait... what drill?"

"I kind of like that drill," Ushijima murmured, nodding his head. "Helps me stretch my back."

"The hell are you talking about—"

"It's a back drill?!"

"IWA—tell us—"

"You'll see tomorrow."

જ⁀🏐⁀🏐

“KOMORI,” the nurse called, cutting the stress in the air.

Komori tensed so hard you thought he might vibrate through the wall.

“I need someone to hold my hand,” he whispered. “Like I really really really do!”

You exchanged a glance with Iwaizumi, who looked about two seconds from purposely walking into traffic. Then, resigned, you stepped up and reached out.

Komori grabbed your hand like it was the only thing keeping him tethered to this world.

“I’m sweating,” he whimpered. “I’m so sweaty.”

“It’s okay,” you soothed, holding in your laughter. “You’re fine.”

Kageyama stared at the exchange like he was memorizing every second of it.

Atsumu leaned over to whisper, “Bet Tobio's plannin' to fake a heart attack next, so he can skip."

“I can hear you,” Kageyama hissed.

જ⁀🏐⁀🏐

When it was finally Bokuto’s turn, he saluted you like a fallen soldier. “Tell Akaashi… I did my best.”

“You’re not dying, Bokuto.”

He nodded solemnly. “Yet.”

As the blood draw began, he yelped once—then looked shocked.

“…That’s it?”

“Yeah,” you said. “You made it.”

“OH SHIT—I’M A SURVIVOR,” he shouted.

જ⁀🏐⁀🏐

Hinata was next, and to his credit, he tried to play it cool.

“I’m ready,” he said, chest puffed out.

You raised a brow. “Need a hand?”

“…Yes.”

You held it.

He didn’t cry, but his lips did wobble. And he squeezed so hard you were sure you lost circulation.

જ⁀🏐⁀🏐

When it was Atsumu’s turn, he slumped into the chair like a man defeated.

“I just think,” he started dramatically, “that if I pass out and ya don’t pamper me, it’s gonna hurt more emotionally than physically.”

“You’re not gonna pass out,” you said.

He stared at the needle. “…I might.”

“You won’t.”

“I could.”

“You won’t, 'Tsumu.”

He pouted. “But will I get pampering just in case?”

“No,” Iwaizumi snapped. “You’ll get an ice pack and your dignity, if you’re lucky.”

He definitely flinched when the needle went in. You absolutely teased him about it.

જ⁀🏐⁀🏐

A hushed awe fell over the room as Ushijima quietly stepped up for his turn.

No panic. No whining. No flailing. Just… silence.

Even the nurse blinked at him.

“…Wow,” she muttered. “This one might actually be normal.”

Ushijima sat with perfect posture, expression blank as ever, arm outstretched.

“I don't understand the fear of needles,” he said calmly, watching the nurse swab his skin. “They are quite small. Less painful than a hard block.”

You leaned over to brush a strand of hair that had flopped over his forehead.

"I'm proud of you," you murmured, soft and sincere.

"OH—he gets a I'm proud of you and I DON'T?!"

"SHUT UP, MIYA!"

જ⁀🏐⁀🏐

You nudged Aran. "Your turn, superstar."

“Alright, alright,” he said, rolling his sleeves up and taking a deep breath. “Let’s get this over with. I got this. I’m cool.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You sure?”

Aran smirked. “I’m not like those guys. Needles? Pssh.”

One minute later…

“I’M SORRY, BUT I MIGHT DIE.”

Aran was gripping your hand like it was his lifeline, leaning back in the chair as the nurse tried to steady his arm.

“Just breathe,” you coaxed, trying not to laugh. “You said you were cool.”

“I was cool until that pointy thing of evil came out of nowhere!” he hissed.

“It’s a tiny straight needle,” the nurse deadpanned.

“I don’t care if it’s gold-plated! That pointy stabber's evil!”

Suna chuckled from his chair, legs crossed, blood already drawn, bandage stylishly in place. “Tough guy act didn’t last long, huh, Aran?”

“You hush,” Aran snapped.

Suna leaned back with a smug grin. “Still not scared of needles."

“Wanna say that again in front of Kita when we're back in Hyogo, Mister-I-have-a-tattoo-and-I'm-so-great?”

Suna opened his mouth—probably to say something horrifyingly smug—only to be cut off by Iwaizumi’s death glare.

“ENOUGH. If one more of you calls it the pointy stabber, I’m dragging you outside for suicide sprints right now.

Everyone immediately shut up.

Except Atsumu, who whispered to Bokuto, “Do ya think if I faint, I’ll get more sympathy points?”

“You’ll get buried,” Iwaizumi snapped, without turning around.

જ⁀🏐⁀🏐

Last up was Kageyama.

“Do I get something if I don’t flinch?” he asked suddenly, looking at you.

You blinked. “…Like what?”

“I dunno. A frozen yogurt treat?”

“…Fine. No flinch, no fuss, and I’ll make the fancy honey and blueberry one later.”

He turned to the nurse, expression dead serious. “I’m ready.”

He didn’t flinch. You were kind of proud.

Then he turned to Atsumu and whispered, “Enjoy your dignity. I’m getting yogurt.”

“SHUT UP,” Atsumu barked.

જ⁀🏐⁀🏐

When the chaos finally ended, you stepped out into the hallway with Iwaizumi and Coach.

Iwaizumi looked like he’d aged ten years.

Coach ran a hand down his face. “They spike balls for a living.”

“I know,” Iwaizumi said through gritted teeth.

You, somehow still chipper, smiled. “They’re just scared of the little things.”

Coach looked at you. “What aren’t they scared of?”

You didn't have an answer.

Then the nurse strolled past, hands clutching the biohazard bags ready to be sent to the testing center, and murmured, “God help Japan.”

જ⁀🏐⁀🏐

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3amfanfiction · 6 months ago

Text

Our Girlfriend pt 3

Based loosely off of this reblog, i loved the artwork and the first drawing made me think of Johnny stuffing his cheeks with the muffins. so i had to write about him bringing the muffins into work that morning. 1k snippet that technically happens before part one, enjoy!

Part One || Part Two

To say that Johnny had a pep in his step on his way to work was putting it mildly.

In his bag was proof. Proof that you were falling for the guys just as much as they've been falling for you. He was whistling on his way into down the hall to the rec room, the sound bouncing off the cinder-blocked walls and echoing back to him with every step.

Throwing open the door he was greeted with an empty room. That was okay. He'd just wait for the others to get there and then he'd share the good news. It's not like he was vibrating out of his skin in excitement or anything.

Pulling out a chair, he took a seat at the table and pulled out one of the muffins. Biting into it, he couldn't control his groan of delight. How did you always manage to make them taste so good? He's watched you bake them before, knew you didn't put any special ingredients in, so why were they always so delicious?

The muffin was gone within four gigantic bites, nothing but the limp liner remaining and even that had been scraped clean as best it could. Balling it up he tossed it into the trashcan and settled back in to wait. Why were the rest of them taking so long.

Five minutes later saw him staring at the bag with a furrowed brow. He shouldn't touch the other muffins. They weren't his, they were for the rest of the team. They were your muffins that you gave to them. He shouldn't.

But he did.

It started with just one. His reasoning that he could give the two remaining to the first two in the room and promise double muffins tomorrow for whoever missed out. That would work.

With a plan firmly in place, the second muffin soon met its fate. He tried to slow down, really savor this one but it was a struggle. This forbidden muffin. Honestly it was the other's fault for not being on time. If they would've been here he would have already passed out the treats and this wouldn't have even been an issue. In fact, it was only right that the last person in shouldn't get a muffin. They should've been here when they were supposed to be if they really wanted one.

Making peace with himself he enjoyed the last few bites of goodness and the second wrapper was quickly discarded.

How long had it been? He looked at the clock but couldn't remember the exact time he'd gotten in. He knew it'd been at least 15 minutes though. His foot bounced as he fidgeted with his phone, sending a cute gif off your way before pocketing it once more.

Back to waiting.

Seriously, did the team get called out on a mission and they just forgot to tell him?

This was ridiculous.

It was with annoyance that he bit into the third muffin. If they thought they could just leave him here with no repercussions then that was on them. Now only the first person in the door would be getting a muffin. The other two would have to wait. And he might not even give them one depending on how long they took. It served them right for making him sit here all by himself. They knew he didn't do good with the quiet.

He had just shoved the last bite of the third muffin into his mouth when the door opened behind him. He swung around with a glare just to see the other three all walking in together.

"Why do you look like you want to murder us?" Kyle asked with a laugh, pushing to reach the table first and sit down, knocking a foot against Johnny's in greeting. "You're never the first one in, what got you up so early?"

With the reminder Johnny beamed.

"My lass sent you muffins!" He mumbled around his mouthful, reaching into the bag to pull the last one out and set it on the table. He swallowed the rest of his bite, "She let me know this morning that she was thinking about you all and she wanted to make sure you had something to help get you through the day."

With the air of someone imparting a great secret he dropped his voice. "You know, she's really warmed up to you three. She asks how you're doing and worries about you. She's been begging for you to come over," he thinks back to you mentioning how you'd love to meet his teammates. You'd made your wishes well known—and he was able to read between the lines.

With a non-committal hum Price looked down at the singular muffin sitting on the table, a piece pinched off by both Simon and Kyle already. "I thought you said muffins. Where's the rest?"

It didn't take more than a glance at Johnny's innocent face to know exactly what happened. Looking over into the nearby trashcan only confirmed it. Three balled up wrappers sitting innocently on top of the trash.

"An extra lap of PT for each muffin you ate, sergeant," he sighed before walking over and swiping the remaining treat that the other two were silently arguing over. Kyle gave an affable hum and leaned over to start picking at Johnny but Simon turned to look at the captain with a frown.

"You two got a piece, the rest is mine."

Furrowed brows.

"I don't have to share with you."

A tilted chin.

"Damn it, I'm the captain and if I want the muffin then I get the muffin."

That finally got a grunt of disappointment out of the stoic man who turned watch Kyle in his quest to tease Johnny for eating their muffins. Kyle was poking at Johnny's cheeks, pointing out a bit of missed pastry.

"Dinner tonight?" Price asked, frowning in thought at Johnny's eager nod as he swatted Kyle's hand away. "I'll try but I don't know if I'll be able to get away. I've got a full day ahead of me."

Kyle left off teasing Johnny and jumped up from the table as Price started to walk back towards his office, jogging to catch up to him. The two remaining men could hear him offering to help speed things along. Another pair of hands to quicken the work.

Turning to look at Simon as they turned the corner, Johnny offered, "Dinner tonight, LT?"

A single, silent nod was all the response he was given but Johnny's face lit up like a sunrise. His favorite people were finally coming together, what more could he want?

#fic: our girlfriend #i am having such a good time with these stories #thank you temp for starting this all off #tf 141 x reader

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frflyavenue · 3 months ago

Text

Under Your Touch - Chapter 1

Pairing: poly!Ateez x makeup artist!Reader (Fem!Reader)

Warnings: Implied childhood trauma/parental issues

Summary: Down on your luck, you pack up your things and move to Korea on an impulse. With no job and no money, you have no clue what your future could hold—until you’re scouted by two employees from a company you’ve never heard of, KQ Entertainment, looking for a new makeup artist. With the opportunity of a lifetime and the offer to work with a group named Ateez, maybe there’s hope for you after all. But what your future holds may be even more exciting than you expect.

Author’s Note: Hello everybody, and welcome to my new series, Under Your Touch! This is my first fic EVER, so please tell me what you think! I already have so much in store for you guys ;) —Planning to update with a new chapter every Sunday! Leave a note if you want to be added to the taglist for UYT~

Join me on ao3 @frflyavenue <3

WC: 5.1k

Without further ado~

Chapter 1: The Beginning

The chill of the Seoul winter air hits you immediately as you step out of your apartment, sending a chill down your spine as you turn to lock the door. It’s your first winter in Korea, and while you’ve loved the moderate weather of the summer and fall, the winter chill alone is making you reconsider your choice to pack up and live here. Or maybe it would, if you hadn’t finally scored a job.

You smile lightly to yourself at the thought. You moved here 8 months ago, just toward the end of spring, wanting to get far away from your home country to start afresh. On an impulse, you packed up two suitcases, the most you could carry on your own, and booked a flight to Korea. You found a reasonably priced studio apartment during your first night at a hotel in Seoul, and with the small amount of money you had, you signed the lease the next day. It really all happened too fast for your own good. You were panicked—you didn’t really think ahead. For a month you stayed in your apartment with basically no money and no job, desperately studying Korean and looking for jobs. And for a while, your only source of comfort was your art.

You’ve always loved art. You grew up with nothing much to do except go to school, come home, and draw, not the type to stay around your parents too long. You always stayed away from them, in fact. That’s the reason you’re here in the first place. But regardless, drawing got you through it all. It was your first love, the first time you felt that you could forget about everything else and immerse yourself in a different world entirely. And even when your parents and teachers scolded you for doodling on your papers instead of doing your schoolwork, you continued. It was everything to you, why care about school? Not that you were a bad kid—you did everything you possibly could to make your parents and teachers happy. But you drew the line at abandoning your art, no pun intended.

As you got older, that passion carried into makeup. Considering your artistic background, it came as no surprise to you that you had a knack for makeup, and in that month trying your best to survive in Korea, that’s all you did. Makeup, different styles and different techniques, over and over, just to pass the time.

Mastering the Korean idol makeup style was easy. As was mastering pretty much any style, all around the world, you name it. But particularly, maybe because you now live in Korea, you loved the modern Korean idol makeup styles. Truthfully, you knew nothing about Kpop aside from the music you had heard in passing through the streets of Seoul. Your knowledge ended there. But that didn’t stop you from practicing and mastering the makeup, putting your own spin on it based on techniques you had learned from practicing other styles.

Regardless, you weren’t any less surprised when two women approached you during your weekly trip to the grocery store, speaking in rapid Korean and smiling excitedly, pointing to your face. With your limited knowledge of Korean, you managed to pick up a few things: “Your makeup—I like it!” Unsure of what to do, you smiled politely and thanked them, turning to leave. But they quickly shook their heads, stopping you and typing something into a translating app.

‘Are you a makeup artist?’

You shook your head and smiled awkwardly. “No, sorry.” You responded in what you hoped was an understandable Korean accent. They continued typing, seeming more excited now.

‘We work for a K-pop entertainment company called KQ Entertainment. We would like you to train with us and show the company your skills so we could hire you as a makeup artist.’

It seemed too good to be true. You accepted their business cards, typed back to them in whatever app they had that you would give them a call, and went home. It took you a while to confirm that the whole thing wasn’t a scam, but when you did, you were ecstatic. You had just received the opportunity of a lifetime.

The next few months went by fast. You were given what you compared to a scholarship—a free pass to attend a small class on makeup techniques. All for free under their eyes, you learned how to adjust different styles to different face shapes, how to do hair, learned what products to use on different skin types, how to utilize colors to make features pop. You studied Korean and were immersed enough in the language to be able to communicate effectively, which was a plus. You studied color theory, something you knew from experience but were interested to learn technically. And you had fun. So much fun. You didn’t think it could get any better, even if you weren’t getting paid.

But six months later, during an observation from one of the higher ups in the stylist and makeup department, it did get better. They complimented you on your hard work and your abilities, saying that your work was some of the best they had ever seen. And on the spot, they gave you a job offer to work at KQ Entertainment as a personal makeup artist for one of their boy groups, Ateez. It seemed too good to be true. You? Really? You accepted the offer without hesitation, thanking them profusely for their opportunity, and you were sent home. That was two weeks ago. In the meantime, you researched as much as you could about this group, Ateez.

You learned that there are eight members: Park Seonghwa, Kim Hongjoong, Kang Yeosang, Jeong Yunho, Song Mingi, Choi San, Jung Wooyoung, and Choi Jongho. And all eight of them are possibly the most stunning men you have ever laid our eyes on. The perfect canvases. You were giddy at the thought. Your job description noted that you would be the personal makeup artist for Jung Wooyoung and Choi Jongho, the two youngest members. Jung Wooyoung is an incredible dancer, apparently known to be more energetic and lighthearted in nature. He has the visuals of a black cat, incredibly elegant and colder in appearance, though his personality is anything but. Choi Jongho is the youngest member and the lead singer of the group, and his voice is the most beautiful thing you have ever heard. You silently wished to yourself that you would get to hear him sing in person. He’s visually like a teddy bear, an adorable face with the sweetest smile you’ve ever seen. But it seems that his style is cool and simple, which you kept in mind.

Over the two weeks waiting for your paperwork to go through and finishing up interviews with their managers, you spent your time practicing. You drew models of their face shapes, testing out different styles on your drawing tablet and getting to know the curves and geometry of their faces while keeping in mind personal style and their group concept. All things considered, you would think that now, as you walk down the street in the freezing cold toward their makeup studio, that you would feel at least a little bit prepared.

False.

You’ve never been more nervous in your life.

While maybe you didn’t fangirl over the members like much of their fan base, this was your first proper job ever. Your Korean is nothing better than understandable at best, and while you’ve practiced with drawings, you’ve never actually done makeup on these two before. So even though what you’re doing today is nothing more than just a consultation with the two, you can’t stop the shaking in your hands, glad that you will be able to blame it on the cold. You need to do well today. Whether or not you really get the job depends on it.

No pressure.

It’s still dark out when you make it to the address the company sent you, an obscure studio in Seoul supposedly nearby to the Ateez dorms but still hidden from the public’s prying eyes. You check your phone. 6:45am. Perfect, 15 minutes early. You go to your contacts, calling Bae Hyerin, the agent you had been working with during this whole process.

“Good morning Hyerin-unnie! I’ve just arrived at the studio.” You call out into the phone, hoping your usually cheery tone overrides the shakiness in your voice.

“Ah, you’re early! One moment, I’ll let you in!” She hangs up, and you smile to yourself. Hyerin has been a lifeline since this whole ordeal began, possibly one of the sweetest people you’ve ever met. She’s two years older than you, and even though you haven’t known her long, she’s helped you like an older sister, standing up for you when others undermined your abilities or made snarky comments about your Korean, and always praising you for your hard work. You can’t help but feel some of your nervousness dissipate when she greets you at the door with an excited smile.

“Y/N-ah! Welcome!” She says happily, gently pulling you inside. “It’s freezing out, please come in!”

You obey, familiarly holding her arm while she gives you a brief tour of the studio. There’s a large space inside past the entrance with two spaces—one with a couch, some seating, a small fridge, and a TV, presumably an area for the members to relax or sleep while they wait. But you’re more interested in the other side, a slightly smaller space with clean tile floors and four neat stations, three of which are clearly occupied with various products and tools. The fourth is completely empty, with nothing but the vanity, a chair, one staple hair tools, and a large lit mirror. You nearly drool at the sight. Assuming all goes well, this station would be all yours. Hyerin seems to notice, and she ruffles your hair lovingly with a laugh. She lets you set your large makeup bag on the empty vanity, getting a few things set up before they arrive for their consultation.

You blow hot air onto your freezing hands, relieved to finally have a bit of time to yourself to prepare. Unpacking a few things onto the vanity, you count once again to make sure you haven’t missed anything. Their respective foundations and concealers—check. Clean brushes for each of them—check. Palettes—check. Respective lip products—check. Everything is still unopened.

Phew.

Ater reassuring yourself that, yes, you brought all of their hair products too, you relax a bit, taking a seat on the couch in the other side of the studio. Now there’s nothing to do but wait.

——————

It’s still quiet in the Ateez dorms when Wooyoung begrudgingly wakes up to his alarm. 6:00am. Gross. He sighs and manages to get himself out of bed, cringing as the cold air hits his torso while he desperately searches for a hoodie. He struggles to get it on as he trudges over to find Jongho, knowing the younger member probably snoozed his alarm.

Entering his room, he smiles affectionately at the younger man still laying comfortable in bed, his squishy face pressed against the pillow and his blankets pulled all of way up to his chin. The serene moment is interrupted quickly, however, as Wooyoung climbs onto Jongho’s bed, effectively laying on top of him and wriggling around in an affectionate attempt to wake him up. Jongho groans and turns onto his back, sending Wooyoung rolling of to the other side of the bed. Puffing his lips out in a pout, Wooyoung shakes Jongho’s shoulders in another attempt to wake him up, making him grumble outa string of curses before opening his eyes. “What?” He asks, annoyed.

Wooyoung sighs. “We have to get ready to leave. Another makeup artist consultation.” Jongho reciprocates a sigh. Last month, the makeup artist responsible for taking care of the two men’s hair and makeup quit unexpectedly, leaving the company in a desperate search for somebody to fill the position. Over the last few weeks, Jongho and Wooyoung had to wake up early countless times in order to meet with potential candidates for consultations, the company wanting only the best for their prized members. Unfortunately for the two men, their company is picky. Jongho has lost count of how many artists they’ve consulted with over the last few weeks, and he’s tired of waking up earlier than everybody else everyday just to meet with another candidate that ultimately gets rejected. He has no doubt that today wont be any different.

Wooyoung seems to be thinking the same thing, because he nods sympathetically while he slides off of the younger members bed. “I know. But we have no other choice. Get up and get ready, we have to leave in 45 minutes. If we’re lucky, we’ll find a good candidate soon and we won’t have to do this shit anymore.”

Jongho sighs, but complies, forcing himself awake.

Now showered and clean shaven, the two men meet with their manager outside of the dorms, greeting him and climbing in the back of his car with less than eager expressions.

“Who’s the candidate this time?” Wooyoung asks, not doing much to hide the bitterness in his tone.

Manager-nim buckles up and starts the familiar drive to the makeup studio, looking at the tired men in his rear-view mirror with a sympathetic expression. “It’s somebody new, no experience. She’s foreign, moved here less than a year ago from what I gathered, so she speaks little Korean.”

The two men sigh, tired. Out of respect they say nothing, but their thoughts are clear. Why are we wasting our time doing this again? Manager-nim seems to take notice, and he adds quietly, “Hyerin-ssi recommended her.”

Jongho’s eyebrows raise slightly, though his face is still skeptical. Hyerin is known for being rather harsh when it comes to perfecting makeup—its part of what makes her such a good leader. So if she were to recommend somebody so unqualified to even consult with the members… she must see potential there. Still skeptical, the two opt for saying nothing.

Wooyoung nudges Jongho’s shoulder, waking the poor, tired boy as the car pulls into the lot of the studio. Wooyoung, deciding to be optimistic, smiles as he exits the car, hissing through his teeth at the cold but giggling regardless. No point in making yourself any more miserable, is there? Jongho couldn’t care less about looking towards the bright side of things. He’s tired, cold, and pissed off, and quite frankly he doesn’t want to be here. His face only prolongs Wooyoung’s fit of giggles.

Entering the studio, Bae Hyerin greets the three at the door, taking their coats.

“Good morning! Thank you two for coming in so early.”

Wooyoung nods, less grumpy now that he’s woken up a bit. “Of course! We’re excited~” It isn’t a complete lie, he justifies to himself. Jongho says nothing.

Hyerin isn’t blind to the air of annoyance eminating from the two youngest members, but she decides not to mention it. “I’m excited for you guys to meet her, too! She worked as a student under the studio for a few months, but honestly there wasn’t much we could teach her that she didn’t know already. She’s amazing.”

The two blink, a bit surprised. It’s the first time they’ve ever heard Hyerin speak so highly about anybody. Wooyoung smiles, looking forward to this visit a little more now. “What’s her name?”

Hyerin smiles fondly. “Y/N. She’s foreign, but I’ve had no difficulty communicating with her. She’s really cute, I hope you guys like her. I sincerely want her on our team.”

Wooyoung laughs softly, a bit entertained by how fondly their usually strict coworker is speaking about this new candidate. “Are you sure you don’t just have a crush on her?” He asks teasingly, making Hyerin roll her eyes and playfully smack his shoulder.

”Hush.”

Jongho opens his mouth to speak, but is suddenly interrupted by the sound of a new voice calling out from the doorway.

“Unnie, I’m sorry but is there any water I can- …uhm…” You blink with your wide doe eyes as you meet the gaze of two stunning men standing in the entrance speaking with Hyerin, confused. Hyerin turns around and smiles sweetly at you, walking over and gently pulling you toward the two men. Unable to do anything else, you let her.

“Good timing, Y/N, our members just got here! Wooyoung, Jongho, this is Y/N, the makeup artist you will be consulting with today.”

——————

A bit flustered to be meeting them so unexpectedly, you just blink for a second with your pretty, flustered eyes, before remembering yourself. You bow deeply.

“I’m sorry, you surprised me. My name’s Y/N, I’ll be taking care of you two today.”

Wooyoung giggles softly, finding the whole situation rather endearing, and Jongho can’t help himself as he, too, smiles at the scene. You’re nothing short of adorable, with deer-like features and a welcoming closed-lipped smile. Your hair falls short around your shoulders, fluffy as it frames your face, though it doesn’t appear to be particularly styled. Your face is adorned in a subtle, natural makeup, not appearing to be much more than a simply base, natural eye makeup, and some pretty pink lip gloss, but Jongho notes to himself that it suits your face perfectly. Your outfit is also simple, a cream colored, tight-fit turtleneck sweater tucked into light-wash baggy jeans topped off with a simple brown leather belt. Nothing about your appearance is necessarily astounding, but your girl-nextdoor vibe leaves the two finding themselves admiring how pretty you are.

Nervous as you feel their eyes on you, you instinctively reach to hold Hyerin’s hand, making Wooyoung press his lips tight together in an attempt to suppress his sudden cuteness aggression. Jongho smiles after only a few seconds since your introduction, bowing in return. “Good morning, Y/N, my name is Jongho Choi.” He responds in English. You blush from the cute gesture, giggling in slight surprise. Picking up on it, Wooyoung does the same. “I’m Jung Wooyung. Or… Wooyoung Jung. Nice to meet you!”

You laugh softly, giving the two the opportunity to admire your smile, which they find equally as endearing as the rest of you. “Nice to meet you too. Jongho, Wooyoung.” You nod in each of their directions, making them laugh. You feel Hyerin squeeze your hand happily, and you return the squeeze. “Which of you would like to work with me first? I can give you two some time to relax before we start while I get set up. I know it’s early.” You say politely, this time in Korean. You take your time with each sentence, wanting to pronounce everything correctly.

“Me first!” Wooyoung replies eagerly, interrupting Jongho snaps his head to look at Wooyoung in protest. Wooyoung shut him down quickly, stating simply, “I’m older.”

You laugh lightheartedly, enjoying the scene. “Alright then, Wooyoung-ssi first. I’ll give you a few minutes to eat something and get settled in while I set up, yeah? Just let me know whenever you’re ready.” Both men nod and thank you politely as you turn to leave, silent for a moment.

As soon as you’re out of sight, Wooyoung whispers excitedly, laughing in spite of himself. “She is cute!’

Hyerin laughs. “I know, right?”

——————

You hum to yourself as you get Wooyoung’s makeup ready on the vacant vanity, looking over your drawings one more time for good measure while Wooyoung and Jongho laugh over a small breakfast in the other room. Convincing yourself that you know his daily makeup by heart, you turn to rehearsing different hairstyles in your head, knowing it’s your weak spot. Wooyoung usually uses this mouse… or was it the other one? No, he likes the coconut one, right. And he recently got his hair bleached, so use an extra strength heat protectant for good measure. You jump as Wooyoung suddenly appears behind you, tapping your shoulder with a bottle of water. You wince as your jaw clamps down and you bite the inside of your cheek, but smile as you turn around.

“You okay?” Wooyoung laughs, sorry to have scared you. “Here, you were asking for water earlier.”

“Ah, thank you!” You feel a bit relieved, suddenly remembering how dry your mouth is. “Sorry, I was in my own world for a moment. Ready?”

Wooyoung nods, and you smile up at him, pulling the chair out for him and gesturing for him to take a seat. He obliges, sitting down and letting you drape a light cape over his front to protect his clothes. You pump the chair up a few inches, steeling yourself with a few breaths. God, I’m dramatic. You think, exhaling in slight annoyance at how nervous you are. It’s really not that serious.

“Any specific styles you want for today?” You ask, unable to bear staying alone with your thoughts any longer.

Wooyoung thinks, blinking. “Mmm… cool… sexy style.” He replies with a hint of bravado, making you smile. He lifts his hands, pushing one side of his hair back. ”Maybe half slicked back hair like vintage American TV actors, you know? And for makeup just… simple. Handsome..”

You nod, relieved to know exactly the style he’s referring to. You smile, and, unable to handle feeling awkward, you mock a salute. “Aye aye, captain.”

Wooyoung laughs, his eyes a bit surprised, but he quickly shakes his head through fits of giggles. “No, I’m not the captain! That title is only for Hongjoong-hyung.”

You blink, a bit confused for a moment. Hongjoong. As in Kim Hongjoong, the leader of Ateez? Probably. Thank goodness you did at least a little research. “Ah, your leader is the captain? Apologies.” You reply smoothly, your doe eyes sparkling with humor.

Wooyoung nods, clasping his hands in his lap and smiling with intrigue. “Do you know anything about Ateez?” He asks, watching as you squeeze some sun cream onto the back of your hand.

You laugh awkwardly. “Only what I researched when I found out I would be consulting with you two today.” You admit, gently applying some of the sun cream onto his face with the pad of your ring finger. “Eight handsome members with a pirate concept working hard to bring badass stages all around the world.” You say simply, summing up what you know.

Wooyoung laughs, endeared by your description. “You think we’re handsome?” He finds himself asking, wanting to tease you.

You nod, humming affirmatively without hesitation as you blend the cream on his face. You make brief eye contact and smile cheekily before refocusing on his makeup, making him blush.

Well, that backfired, he thinks, cursing himself internally for his failed attempt at flustering you. “How old are you?” He asks suddenly, almost without thinking.

You smile. “I was born 1999.”

He blinks, suddenly excited. “Oh, we’re the same age! Shall we drop the honorifics?”

You meet eyes with him, equally surprised, before nodding eagerly. “Ah, I would like that.”

Conversation comes easy with Wooyoung from that moment onward, as you introduce yourselves and get more comfortable with joking around. Jongho observes with slight surprise from the lounge portion of the large space, taking note of every laugh and blush from Wooyoung at your occasional remarks. He smirks, capturing a picture of the moment and sending it in the Ateez group chat, wanting to tease his hyung. But as he looks closer at the photo, he gasps slightly, catching a glimpse of his completed makeup while you finish up his hair. It’s nothing special, just what appears to Wooyoung’s normal, daily makeup. But something about the harmony of his features looked different… it was the closest thing to perfection he’d ever seen. He looks up from his phone, squinting to try and see him from across the room as if to confirm what he’s seeing. Unfortunately for him, you turn the chair around almost as soon as he does so, done with Wooyoung’s hair and eagerly showing him the finished look in the mirror.

Wooyoung’s reaction is equally as surprised.

He gasps as he sees the job you’ve done, taken aback as he leans forward to look closer at his makeup. The base is so flawless it may as well be his skin, and he reaches up to poke his cheek as if to make sure it isn’t a filter. His eye makeup is minimal, but the product is placed perfectly to accentuate the sharpness of his eyes rather than change the shape, something makeup artists have done commonly in the past. His lips are done in a perfect color for his skin tone, with gloss placed subtly in places where it can only be seen when the light hits it at certain angles, sculpting his plump lips beautifully. Even his nose, one of his proudest features, is perfectly carved out, again accentuating the feature just enough for it to harmonize with everything else. It’s shocking, frankly.

You knot your hands together, fidgeting nervously. Mistakenly taking his silence for dissatisfaction, you bite the inside of your cheek and shuffle on your feet.] “Ah.. is there anything you would like me to change…?” You ask tentatively, worried you might cry if he doesn’t say something soon. He seems to notice, because he pries his eyes away from the mirror and turns to face you, excitedly grasping your hands.

“No… this is amazing. How did you even do this?” He asks, no sign of his usual teasing smile on his face—only sincere shock.

You blush, suddenly looking away, feeling shy and…relieved. “Ah, really? I’m glad you like it.” You say quietly, hoping he can’t feel the nervous tremble of your hands. If he notices, he doesn’t say anything.

He lets go, turning back to look at the makeup in the mirror again. “Jongho-yah, come here. Look.”

Jongho stands up, also eager to get a closer look. He gasps in the same way as Wooyoung, gripping Wooyoung’s chin and tilting his head side to side in admiration. “Handsome…”

Wooyoung nods, meeting Jongho’s gaze with wide eyes as he communicates silently what he’s thinking. Jongho’s eyes say the same thing.

You clear your throat nervously, checking the time. “I’m sorry, if you don’t mind, can I get started with Jongho-ssi? We only have 45 minutes before you have to leave to get ready for your next schedule.”

“Ah, sorry.” Wooyoung says, removing his cape and handing it to Jongho while he swaps positions with the younger man. “Go ahead~”

You nod in thanks, and get to work with Jongho, starting the process all over again.

By the time you’ve finished up with his makeup, turning him around to style his hair, he’s already as energetic as Wooyoung, laughing at almost every silly remark you make and rebutting with ease. Wooyoung notices, noting to himself how easily you manage to adjust to different member’s humor. For reasons unbeknownst to him, that thought makes his cheeks feel warm. You speak comfortably as you style his hair, this styling a bit cuter than Wooyoung’s, per Jongho’s request. It doesn’t take long before you’re done with his hair as well, and you gently pat his shoulder before turning the chair around so he can see the final result.

The two men’s reactions are no different this time. Again, his features are balanced perfectly, with lips a perfect shade of pink, super soft nose contour, and puppy eyes accentuated with bits of subtle sparkles Jongho has never worn before, though he can’t help but like them. It’s perfect.

Wooyoung is quick to run over and admire the work as well, unable to close his jaw as he looks it over. “Jongho-yah, I don’t think you’ve ever looked so good.” He says, a hint of teasing in his tone.

You shake your head, laughing. “His bare face is my favorite. Both of you are perfect canvases to work on, seriously. So handsome. All I do is make that handsomeness pop for the cameras.” You explain, wiping excess makeup off your hands with a wet wipe. “But I’m glad you both like it.”

Both of them blush, unable to say anything in response as you excuse yourself to go wash your hands, struggling with just the wipes. Now along, the boys can finally speak in private.

“Hyung…” Jongho says softly, his voice carrying a tone Wooyoung’s maybe heard only once or twice before. “She’s perfect, seriously.”

Wooyoung nods, agreeing with a hushed, but still undeniably excited tone. “And also she’s so-“

“Cute, right?” Hyerin interjects, walking in the room. The two nods unashamedly. Hyerin steps closer, admiring your work on their faces. “Perfect, as usual. To think she was so nervous she would mess up today…” She shakes her head, smiling proudly as you return. You chirp happily at seeing her and rush over, quick to hug her arm.

“You did a good job, Y/N. You managed to make these two sleepy fools look like idols.” She praises sweetly, making Jongho scoff playfully.

You laugh nervously, shaking your head. “Thank you, Unnie. I’m glad you like it.” You turn as you hear the chime of the front door’s bell, presumably their manager re-enter the building to pick the two members up. You let Hyerin go so she can bring them in, and you’re surprised to see a few new faces instead of their manager. Hyerin clears her throat.

“Y/N, these are the people I was telling you about that would observe your work. No need to be nervous, they’re just going to talk with the members for a bit and make some final decisions.” She winks, but your shoulders still tense slightly at her unspoken words.

They’re going to determine whether or not you get the job.

You feel a sudden poke on your hip and look down to see Jongho smiling. You let out a breath at his sweet thumbs up, smiling slightly in return and bowing your head in silent thanks.

“Y/N, why don’t you go ahead and head out for the day? You did well.” Hyerin interjects, her face sympathetic. You nod, quickly moving to clean up the vanity and pack everything back into your compactable makeup bag. You give a quick bow to Wooyoung and Jongho, grinning sweetly before turning around, quick to leave the building.

Wooyoung and Jongho look at each other and smile, silently crossing their fingers while their hair and makeup is being observed.

They like you.

…

Yeah, they like you a lot.

This fic belongs to @frflyavenue and nobody else—please do not steal this work or any other works by this author <3

Chapter 2

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