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dollfacefantasy · 4 months

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Special Day

pairing: mafia!leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: this year your husband wants to give you a special present for your birthday

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, oral (fem receiving), fingering, daddy kink, breeding kink

word count: 5.2k

a/n: birthday fic for someone i am so happy to know and call my friend, @explorevenus. i love her so so much, she's one of the most fun and kindest people i have ever known. she's so totally cool and you all should wish her a very happy birthday.

For my pretty little doll on her special day. I’ll see you tonight. I love you.

That’s the message scrawled onto the scrap of paper that’s attached to the hanger on the closet door. On the hanger, dangled one of the prettiest dresses you’d ever seen in your life. Your favorite color, flowy and shimmering. Of the hundreds of things he’d asked you to wear over the course of your relationship, this had to be in the top three.

It almost made up for the fact that he was going to be on the job for nearly the entire day. You weren’t even confident he’d make it home in time for the dinner reservations you had, but if you had to be alone, at least you would look good doing it.

If anything, you tried not to let his absence bother you too much because it could be worse. You make a point to yourself to remember that today wasn’t like years ago when you would’ve spent the whole day at work just to come home to an empty house. So far you've spent it out, getting your nails done, lunch at one of your favorite places, some light shopping. And it was all on his dime. This was the one day a year where he truly gave you no limits, no allowance, no teasing about your debit card being worn out. Your birthday always was about letting you indulge in anything you wanted as much as your heart desired. You reminded yourself of that when you felt the familiar pain of longing tighten up your chest.

It wasn’t like the feeling was a foreign one. He’d been at work on every birthday you’d had since the two of you got together. He’d treat you to the shopping spree combined with sending you a lavish arrangement of flowers, chocolates, stuffed animals, or whatever you had been wanting that year. Then he’d come to you the next day, or once you started living together, in the middle of the night. Always climbing into bed or coming up behind you with a hushed “‘m sorry, babydoll” and some gentle kisses to your head. And you’d never complain because the next day before you even had a chance to get annoyed, an expensive new bracelet would be on your wrist, and he’d deliver his apologies between your legs with his tongue, fingers, or cock. Your choice.

For the week leading up to your birthday this year, you had just been silently hoping it would be different. Considering he had been spending more time with you lately, and less time in sketchy meetings, it didn’t seem unreasonable. The higher he climbed in the dark world that he worked in, the closer you came to living the glamorous life he’d promised you from the beginning. His higher position scored the two of you the penthouse you currently sat in. It got you vacations to exotic places and clothes you previously only would’ve been able to afford in your wildest fantasies.

The sun had just begun to set, casting a warm orange-pink haze over your room. You figured you should put on the outfit he’d chosen for you. Lifting the dress up, you realize there’s something else attached to the hanger. Obscured from view at first glance is a delicate lingerie set, lacy pink bra and panties with rosebuds embroidered across them in rows. A smile rises on your lips as you slip off the clothing you had on and unclip the dainty articles from the hanger. Your fingertips smooth over the lace while visions of Leon’s hands dancing across your chest, squeezing your breasts and pinching your nipples, flash through your mind.

You slide the thin straps onto your arms and reach behind to clasp it into place. Then you pull the panties up, looking in the mirror at how they fit over your hips. The dress comes after these. You put it on and are left blown away by his choice for you. It looked good. Showed you off, highlighted your assets in the most flattering way.

As you admire your reflection, the main doors to the apartment open and close. Keys rattle as they’re dropped on the side table. He enters the bedroom and you hear a hum of adoration rumble from his chest.

“There’s the birthday girl,” he says softly as he makes his way to you.

Your eyes capture his gaze with a fond glance. He’d actually made it back when he said he would. Maybe things were looking up. You turn your back to him, revealing the parted fabric that left your back and the hem of your panties exposed.

“Zip me up?” you request.

Without a word, he pulls you close by your waist. You knew he loved doing this. Picking what you wore and watching your body slip into it, filling out his fantasies. His fingers tug the zipper upward and secure the dress together. He presses a tender kiss to your neck and inhales a deep breath of his favorite scent in the whole world, your perfume. His arms wrap around you as his palms rub down your body, over your belly and to your hips. He leaves a few more smooches on your throat as he directs your stare back to the mirror.

“That dress looks gorgeous on you. My perfect little doll,” he murmurs.

“Thank you,” you respond, catching his eyes in the reflective glass ahead of you. You scan the picture in front of you. His large frame engulfing yours, damn near lovesick expression on his face, hands and arms as possessive as they could be in such a basic stance.

“No, thank you,” he says, “You been having a nice day? Being a good girl? Staying safe?”

You sink back against his chest more as his low voice seeps out against your skin. “Mhm,” you answer with a slight nod.

“Yeah? You ready to have some more fun tonight?” he whispers, lips brushing your earlobe.

You nod, sweet and docile. God, it was like you melted in his presence. Could never hold onto anything with him around. It all went out the window in order to get his praise and feel the warmth of his affection on you.

“That’s my baby,” he coos with one more wet kiss on your cheek. He backs up as if he’s about to let you go, but as you turn around, he grabs your jaw. The pads of his fingertips gently dig into the flesh of your cheeks. In that loving and condescending tone that sent heat rushing through your body, he asks, “Who’s my pretty girl?”

It was such a simple thing. You didn’t know why it worked, but it always did. A big smile spreads across your face, and your eyes flit away with timid modesty.

“Me,” you confirm, tone soft but sure.

“That’s right,” he says simply and pulls you into an actual kiss.

After that, you’re almost giddy, high off the small gesture. It made your blood run hot and your head swim with a dizzy feeling of love. You all but prance to the rack against the wall that holds your shoes. Slipping on some matching heels, you face him once more and do a little motion to show off the completed look.

He chuckles at your twirl and opens his arms. You immediately go to him and find your place in his grasp. Kissing the top of your head, he mutters “What’d I do to get the sweetest girl in the world all to myself, hm?”

You shrug, and that’s all he needs before the two of you are ready to go. He stuffs his wallet in his pocket and walks towards the elevator with you tucked to his side. His fingers coast down your jaw and stroke your hair. Your eyes stay locked on him from the doors shutting to the little ding letting you know the trip is over.

The two of you float outside to the luxury car Leon rode around in now. Not even drove because he had been given a driver recently. All the two of you had to do was simply slip into the backseat.

He holds you close, nearly on his lap for the duration of the ride. One hand massages the back of your neck, keeping your head against his shoulder. The other delves beneath the skirt of your dress only to knead your plush thighs and feel your skin between his fingers. All the attention keeps your head spinning and your body craving his love.

It’s only around twenty minutes before the car pulls to a stop in front of the restaurant. You’re greeted by the familiar twinkling lights and neon letters of one of your favorite places. You beam at him and take his hand. He watches your pleasant reaction, so pleased he could make you happy with something so simple.

Getting in is quick and painless since he had called ahead of time, dead set on making this as special for you as possible. You’re seated at a booth in the back. It’s not completely private, but well secluded from the other patrons filling seats.

He slides in first, grinning as he pats the cushioning next to him. You follow, and immediately, he pulls you close. Your thighs are squished against each other beneath the table. His lips are caressing your neck as you skim the menu causing you to squirm and laugh softly.

“You get anything you want, pretty baby. Tonight’s all about my precious girl,” he whispers.

You nod and nuzzle into the affection a bit, brushing your nose with his. After deciding what you want, he orders your meal and drink. The two of you talk, and from this alone, it seems to be shaping up into the perfect night. You talk about everything and anything, catching up with him like you hadn’t in a while. You see the Leon you love, your Leon. The guy who comes home late with dark eyes and a flat voice is nowhere to be found, and you couldn’t be more pleased. He stays close the entire time, seemingly not able to help how touchy he was with you.

Eventually, your orders arrive, and things continue to look up. Your smile won’t leave your face as you eat and drink. Laughs fly between the two of you like neither of you had ever seen something bad in your lives. It’s only hours later, towards the end of dinner when you can see him simmering down a bit. His expression grows more serious. Different from usual though. It’s not stern. It’s more… vulnerable. He pulls you flush against him yet again and squeezes his arms around you softly.

“I’m happy you’re having a good time, sweetheart. You know I love seeing that pretty smile. And you should know, I’ve wanted your birthday to turn out this perfect every year. But now I can actually provide that,” he says, continuing to grow more genuine.

You nod, not totally sure where he’s going here but eager to find out.

“Usually, I’d have something big for you to open at the end of your day,” he starts. He almost looks nervous at this point, and it’s concerning you, “This year, I don’t have anything like that because I thought we might do something different for your main gift.”

You look up at him and shift your body to face him a little more. He had your attention now. You try to mentally run through different possibilities for a different kind of big present. Vacation? No, you’d done that before. Moving? That also seemed unlikely. Maybe it was related to his work? You honestly had no clue.

“What is it?” you ask.

“I think it’s time we start trying for a baby,” he says, his eyes going soft and his voice dropping to be more hushed.

Your heart jolts inside your chest. You almost don’t believe you heard him right. He must have said something else. That or he was just playing the most cruel joke in the entire world.

“But you said you didn’t want any?” you say skeptically.

“I know I did. But… I was wrong,” he says with a slight smile.

Leon had told you on each rare occasion that the topic of kids came up that he did not want any under any circumstances. This life was too dangerous, he wouldn’t have time for them, he wanted you all to himself. All were reasons you’d heard over the years. You’d honestly just shoved your small hopes for a family away because he seemed certain of his position on the topic. You’d come to terms that it would never happen. It was him or the white picket fence fantasy, and you’d chosen him with no real hesitation.

“And you just changed your mind out of the blue?” you ask.

He shakes his head with a chuckle. He kisses your pulse point as his fingers start tracing small circles on your arm. “No, no. I’ve been thinking about this for a while,” he whispers.

Your breath hitches at the sensation of his mouth on your skin again. You tilt your head back and shut your eyes, letting him work. You were already buzzed from the drinks you had, and this wasn’t making it easier to think through your line of questioning.

“I’ve been having these dreams, y’know,” he breathes as if he senses your uncertainty, “Once every couple days, I’m seeing you pregnant. You’re looking fucking gorgeous, belly swollen and bright smile on your face. Then I wake up. And after a few times, I realized I don’t want that to only be a dream anymore.”

He continues trailing his mouth along your skin, leaving small love bites scattered throughout the sheen remnants of saliva. Your head is swirling with the mix of his actions and words, and what it means. He wanted you pregnant. It didn’t sound real to you even with his brief explanation.

“You want to change the entire direction of our lives because you had a few dreams?” you ask.

He laughs softly into the crook of your neck. “I’d been thinking about it anyway. I’m not getting any younger, baby. I guess I’ve softened in my old age cause what I want more than anything is to see my precious little doll holding our baby,” he says with a mix of teasing and seriousness in his voice.

It makes you smile and exhale with amusement. You turn your face in his direction and catch his lips in a real kiss. When he pulls away, his breath is coming out in heavier puffs. His eyes, blown out with love, are locked in a stare with you. His hand slips down to your midriff, palm flattening over your tummy.

“It wasn’t so hard to realize, babydoll. I’d be fucking insane to not want to see you carrying my baby. You’ll be the prettiest little mama,” he whispers.

His voice had become huskier, his thumb moving back and forth on your bottom lip. You were completely enraptured with him right now. Your head was growing fuzzier by the second, and the desire for him to fuck you full of cum was only getting stronger.

“You can’t even understand how much I’ll love watching that belly grow. How it’ll start sticking out of every shirt you have till we have to buy you a whole set of new ones,” he murmurs against your skin, “And don’t even get me started on how these are gonna fill out.” His hand moves to your breasts, gripping the plump flesh under his palm .

Now your breath was picking up a bit too. You shift in your seat in an attempt to alleviate the building tension in your center. His kisses become more aggressive and simple touches morph into rougher grabs.

“I’m not gonna be able to keep my hands off you, babydoll. Gonna have to fuck you like we’re still trying even when you’re in the last few months,” he grunts.

The softest whimper escapes you, but he hears it. You feel his smirk against your skin. He lightly nips at your throat and pulls back, letting you see his smug expression in its entirety.

“You like that idea, yeah?” he coos quietly, “So much attention for you, baby. Constantly being doted on. You’re not gonna lift a finger for nine months. Gonna let me take care of everything while all your energy goes into growing our baby.”

You look up at him helplessly. Big, sweet eyes that remind him of a puppy. He grins as your head bobs up and down in a nod.

“My good fucking girl. Let’s get out of here,” he says.

You’re quick to follow him out of the booth after he drops a couple bills on the table. Your fingers lace with his as he leads you to the main doors and back to the car. You take him in as he guides you. Just a few moments to admire his broad shoulders and muscular biceps. His protective grip and eyes that seemed serious to everyone else, but you could tell held more mischievous intent.

Once you reach the car, he opens the door for you, giving you a quick smack on the ass as you climb in. He’s right next to you after that, and as the engine comes to life, you almost wish he’d waited to have that conversation in here instead. Because now you were gonna have to sit here, turned on and untouched for the ride back. Heated skin and glossy eyes, it was pretty obvious how you were feeling. Most likely everyone in that restaurant and the driver sitting one seat in front of you all knew that Leon was going to fuck you dumb as soon as you stepped through the doors to your apartment.

You come to figure though, that if it’s already so obvious, what’s the harm in being a little more overt? Scooting over to him, you lean into his firm side. He looks down at you knowingly. Your fingers curl over his thick thigh, nearly brushing the most sensitive area of his lap.

“Feeling a little impatient?” he teases softly.

You nod. Sure your driver could hear murmuring, you just hoped he couldn’t make out exact words.

“Yeah, what do you want me to do about it?” he mocks, “You need Daddy’s fingers in that tight cunt? Can’t even wait till we get home to cum?”

You bite your lip to muffle the whine blooming in your throat. Your face burns at the use of the title that melted your mind down to a few simple words. Yes Daddy. Thank you Daddy. Pretty please. Wanna cum.

With another nod, you sink further into his chest. Your eyes remain up and keep their focus on him.

“Well, since it’s your birthday…” he starts. His hand swoops beneath your dress, bypassing your thighs this time and cupping your pussy, fingers coasting over the damp fabric.

You were pulsing with desire, your heart thudding against your chest. He pulls your lacy garment to the side to run his digits through your folds and feel the slick that had gathered for him. A low chuckle leaves him, and all you can think is how grateful you are for the radio being turned on, no matter how low the volume. From how wet you were, you were sure in dead silence you’d be able to hear more lewd noises than the words spilling from Leon’s mouth.

“Oh, you really can’t wait. You’re already making a mess all over my seats,” he whispers.

The pad of his finger swirls over your clit, and you hum quietly in relief. The pressure in the pit of your belly releases a bit as the warm flow of pleasure courses through you. Your eyes flutter shut, your hands hook around his arm for comfort, and you press your face to his shoulder to obscure your reactions to the feeling.

“My perfect little doll. I press the right button and look how well you behave,” he breathes.

You suck in a breath, narrowly avoiding a whimper tumbling into the car. He plays with your bundle of nerves for a minute more before slipping two fingers down and slipping them inside you.

Your fingers dig into the sleeve of his suit, clutching it as he pumps in and out of you. He works himself in, up to his knuckles. Your thighs part a little more to give him some space to work with. He shakes his head and playfully tuts at the display of need.

“Poor baby, Daddy got you so worked up, didn’t he?” he coos softly against your head.

You nod quickly. All your focus is on keeping quiet as his fingers move between your walls as you clamp around them. He smiles and continues lightly. It was your birthday so he would be nice, wouldn’t try to embarrass you too bad.

You’re so wrapped up in the throes of ecstasy he’s bringing you that you don’t even notice when the car has stopped. The only thing you notice is his fingers are now gone and you feel painfully empty.

Your eyes dart up when you lose the warm, filling sensation. Unlike usual, you contain your whine of protest as you realize your moments away from getting what you really wanted.

Like a movie of the beginning of the evening playing in reverse, you both make your way back to the elevator. He keeps a firm hold on your hand as he takes the lead. You stumble behind, all but collapsing in his arms once you're in the elevator. He leans down into some sloppy kisses. Your tongues meet, and your lips smoosh against each other fervently as if you’re running out of time.

After what seems like forever, you hear that little ding, and he wastes no time pulling you into the apartment. You’re kissing on the way to the bedroom, hands roaming one another as you bump into furniture and nearly knock clutter off tables. His suit jacket is gone before the bed is even in sight. Buttons on his shirt had already been popped open as he throws you on the bed.

He climbs on top of you, continuing to make out with you for a moment. His lips start to head south, finding their place on your neck again while his hands start pushing up the skirt of your dress to bunch it at your waist. There was no teasing tonight. You were the birthday girl after all, and he intended to keep his word that the evening was about you.

His entire body drifts downward now. Placing himself on the end of the mattress, you nearly can’t see him from fabric that was hiked up. You can feel him though. Tongue and teeth grazing along your inner thighs, making you shudder.

In the midst of his frenzy of desire, he seems to remember something. He rises to his knees and starts to properly remove the dress from your body.

“Almost forgot to unwrap my gift,” he says.

He’s discarded the dress to the floor in no time. You lie there, on display for him in the lingerie he’d chosen just for this. His hands stroke your sides as he takes in the view of your nipples pebbles beneath the embroidered rosebuds, the soaked patch of fabric between your thighs. He’s lost in the sight of you, feeling almost as hazy as you did.

“Sweet baby, the only present I ever need,” he mumbles before lowering himself to the bed again.

He yanks down the pretty panties and tosses them over to sit with your dress. Then you finally feel some of the relief you’d been craving. He dives into your cunt, lips moving as he envelops your sex in the heat of his mouth.

His tongue strokes up and down the velvet skin. He laps at your clit, paying attention to the precious bundle of nerves that had you crying out and writhing in his hold. You reach down and tug at his hair, causing a loud groan to emanate from the junction of your thighs. He devours you with increasing fervor.

“Pussy’s so fucking pretty,” he mutters into you, “So cute. My favorite toy.”

Your head falls back while your hips roll against his face. Gasps and whines erupt from your throat freely as you rotate between clawing at the sheets and pulling at his hair.

“All for you Daddy,” you choke out, trying not to devolve into a complete mess just yet.

He smirks up at you, enjoying the pathetic lilt in your voice. His thumb rubs your clit in quick strokes now while his mouth takes a quick break to speak.

“That’s right, baby. All for Daddy,” he repeats, words coming out slow like you’d struggle to understand if he spoke too fast, “All mine whenever I want it. Isn’t that right?”

“Mhm, whenever you want,” you babble back.

“My smart girl,” he teases before returning to licking your cunt.

The room is vibrating to you. You’re so high in the clouds you can’t register anything in your mind that isn’t him. You vaguely feel him working two fingers inside you again as his lips wrap around your clit and suck on it in a way that causes you to shriek.

He laughs and continues on, holding your body in place as it jerks and seizes under his touch.

“Good girl, babydoll. Cum all over Daddy’s face. You deserve it,” he encourages you.

You keep cumming. Your slick coats his chin and mouth, and he laps up every drop that he can. He pleasures you through the high. Once he’s worked you over the edge, and he can tell you’re coming down, he pulls off.

“My favorite sound in the whole world. Those pretty noises you make while you let go for me,” he murmurs as he crawls back on top of you. He nuzzles your neck, leaving some kisses on the skin in the wake of your powerful release.

“You know that normally, I’d keep going, but I think we both wanna get to the next thing. Want me to breed that sweet pussy till I’m firing blanks,” he says.

He finishes pulling his shirt off and removes the clothing from his lower body quickly. He’s back on top of you before you even register he was gone. Lazily stroking his cock, he slides it between your folds, gently fitting up against you.

“My little doll ready?” he whispers.

You hook your arms around his neck and nod. He can tell by your languid movements that you’re almost loopy off your release.

“Yeah you are. My perfect girl,” he whispers as he slides in, sheathing himself in the warmth of your pussy.

He grunts and tightens his hold on you as he sinks all the way in with no resistance. Your walls flutter around him, already beginning to charge up the hot coils in his belly.

“Swear you were made for me,” he mumbles into your neck, “Pussy made for me to fuck full. Precious little face made for me to kiss.”

“Mhm,” you hum absentmindedly. You hook your legs around his waist, locking his hips against yours as he starts to grind himself into your cunt. His pelvis rubs against your sensitive clit while the head of his cock prods all your favorite spots deep inside.

He grunts and groans against your throat. Both of your hot and sticky skin slides against the others. His breath fans across you in hot pants as he starts working his hips a little harder, rocking in and out.

“Everything about you is all for me. My perfect doll. My good girl. My gorgeous fucking wife,” he growls.

You nod eagerly as you pull him closer. His hips smack against yours repeatedly, his heavy balls clapping against you with each thrust. Your breaths are shaky. It feels like you're headed towards another release with no ability to hold it off or stop it. You whine for him and squeeze around his length. So fucking tight, he actually whimpers to stop himself from blowing his load.

After a while more, he knows it’s imminent for both of you. He keeps pistoning his hips, rutting deep inside you while kissing you and capturing those sweet little sounds in his mouth.

“You there, babydoll? Gonna cum again for me?” he asks quietly, watching for the nod he knew you’d respond with. Once he sees it, he works a little harder, bringing you to the peak. “Yeah? You ready for Daddy to cum too? I know you are.”

With his voice rasping in your ear, his cock drilling deep inside you, it only takes one more thrust of his hips for you to reach the brink. You spill over into your second release. Your hips buck, and your chest heaves as the second round of ecstasy zips through you.

He hums as you contract around his shaft, clenching and drawing him in further, as if you’re crying out for him to give you his cum already. His cock twitches inside of you as he gasps and erratically fucks it into you. His entire body weight is pressing you down into the mattress as he lets go and gives up on not crushing you beneath him. It only added to the pleasure though. It was the closest you’d ever felt, and not only because his cock was bumping your cervix every couple seconds.

Soon enough, he’s spilled all that he can into you. He remains on top of you though, keeping you right where you should be. His arms snake under your body and the shift causes you to whimper since he still hadn’t pulled out. He holds you to him like you really were his dolly, peppering kisses along the side of your face and dragging his nose against your head.

“So good for me, like always,” he mumbles.

You reciprocate the affection with a few lazy kisses of your own. Your arms rest around him with no actual grip, simply just a way to show you return the sentiments.

The two of you just lay there like that for a little while, taking in each other, enjoying the peace that comes with release. You break the silence soon enough with a whisper.

“Think this has been my best birthday yet.”

He smiles and smooches you a few more times. “You deserve it, baby.”

“Thank you for making it perfect for me,” you say and tighten your limbs around him.

“Mhm,” he hums like it’s nothing. He then pulls back a little and looks down at you. “I don’t know why you’re talking like it’s over though, sweetheart. There’s still a few hours left of your actual birthday, and even then, I’m not gonna let some numbers stop me from fucking my gorgeous wife.”

You return the smile and pull him into a few more pecks.

“And I wasn’t lying, we’re going until I’m absolutely certain you’re knocked up,” he murmurs as he rocks his hips against you again, drawing a soft whimper from your throat, “And you know how precise I am. Probably shouldn’t make any plans for tomorrow, actually, probably need the whole weekend too.” He looks at you with a cocky smile before continuing the roll of his hips.

#leon kennedy x reader #resident evil imagines #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy imagine #resident evil smut #smut

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obsessedwithceleste · 1 month

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The Stages of Grief

Lorenzo Berkshire x Reader

Prompt 5 of @thatdammchickennugget ‘s Hogmarch challenge🫶🏽

Summary: They say that when you experience grief, you go through five stages. And after being partnered with Lorenzo Berkshire for your latest potions assignment, rest be assured, you were experiencing all five.

word count: 6.2k

©️ obsessedwithceleste. all works posted here belong to me and should not be reposted or copied in any way or form.

Denial

“Oh you’re kidding,” you groan as you finally spot your name on the list of assigned pairings for your next potions assignment.

You loved potions; in fact it was one of your favorite classes at Hogwarts, despite its demanding course work. You ironically found its rigid, methodical nature to be quite relaxing as moving step by step through the different recipes seemed to practically be second nature. It was a rhythmic dance that you followed religiously, finding thrill in the ever changing contents of your cauldron.

What you did not love however, or who you did not love to be more precise, was Lorenzo Berkshire. Flirtatious, carefree, and devilishly handsome, you were fairly certain that that boy could chat up a corpse. Or he could if he or his friends ever bothered showing up to class. It’s not that you disliked the boy per se, but to allow him onto your sacred ground? Into your sanctuary? You’d rather not.

Yet, there his name was, scrawled neatly next to yours on the board. It was like the universe had it out for you. Or your professor more likely.

“Tell me I read it wrong,” you complain turning to Daphne who was sat beside you.

The two of you had made an unlikely pairing in second year herbology and been inseparable ever since.

The girl just rolls her eyes at you.

“Oh come on, he’s really not as bad as you make him out be,” she sighs, scribbling notes from the board onto her parchment.

“Maybe not to you, but you’ve known him your whole life,” you grumble.

Personally, you’d always found the boy to be a bit of a prick. He was a pretty boy and he knew it, giving him a rather inflated ego you thought.

“Yeah, so don’t you think I might know him a bit better and perhaps be a better judge of character?” She asks.

“Maybe the professor will let me work alone.”

“Oh honestly, y/n. Look, at least he’s in class today. You’ll be fine, promise. And if he annoys you, even a little, I’ll owl his mother,” Daphne replies, not even bothering to look up from her notes. She was used to your dramatics by now.

“Alright, alright, everyone settle down,” your professor calls out, moving to stand at the front of the room before you can complain any further. “This next assignment will take course over the span of the next month or so, as you will be expected to collect some of your ingredients outside of class. So. Who can tell me a little bit about what this next potion that we’re brewing is?”

Your hand shoots into the air as soon as the question leaves your professor’s lips.

“Amortentia is the most powerful love potion in existence. It doesn’t really create love though, but rather infatuation which makes it one of the most dangerous potions in the world,” you recite.

“Yes, yes! Very good, y/n! Five points!”

“Really if it’s so dangerous, I don’t see why they’re teaching a bunch of sixth years how to brew it,” Daphne mumbles to you under her breath.

You let out a snicker. She had a point.

You turn back to the front of the classroom, tuning back into the lesson as your professor begins scratching away on the chalkboard once more.

“The ingredients that you’ll need to gather are as follows. Two ashwinder eggs, rose thorns, peppermint, powdered moonstone, pearl dust, and rose petals. You’ll have the next two weeks to gather your ingredients with your partners, so I suggest you begin,” your professor announces.

You feel your shoulders wilt at the thought of purposely seeking out Lorenzo, but you can already feel his eyes on you from across the room.

“Do you think if I ignore him long enough he’ll get the idea and just go away?” You whisper to your friend.

Daphne just rolls her eyes at you once more, shaking her head.

“Go,” she sighs, giving you a light shove in his direction before moving to join Theodore Nott at a different station.

With one last sigh of despair, you make your way over to the station where Enzo sits waiting for you, silently mourning your potions grade. And your mental and emotional stability.

“Mornin’ love,” he greets giving you a bright lopsided grin as you approach.

“Hi,” you respond dryly with a tight lipped smile.

“So, what’s our game plan going to be, darlin? I reckon we’ll want to get the hardest ingredients to come by first yeah?” He pushes on, ignoring your clear disinterest.

You nod your head in response.

“The peppermint, rose petals and thorns will be easy. We can get all of those in the greenhouse. The pearl dust- I assume we’ll need fresh pearls, we can probably get from the Black Lake.”

“Great. I think I have a moonstone in my ingredient collection. We can crush it down for the powdered moonstone,” Enzo offers.

You raise your brows at this. Moonstone wasn’t necessarily rare by any means, but you weren’t really expecting Enzo to offer up ingredients from his personal collection.

“That would work. We can also find them in the dark forest,” you reply.

“Nah, save us the hassle. Pretty girl like you doesn’t have any business in that musty old forest anyway,” he responds with a charming grin.

Ignoring his comment, you continue on to the last item on the list.

“I’m really not sure where we’re going to find those eggs. I don’t think we can find ashwinders on the school grounds, and they’re quite risky to breed.”

Enzo stares at you blankly.

“Remind me what an ashwinder is again love?” He says sheepishly.

“Magic serpent. Born from the embers of magic flames that are left to burn. You’re a Slytherin, shouldn’t you know all about snakes and such?”

“Yeah, let me recite to you the alphabetical list of all known magical serpent species that us Slytherins actually use as the password to our common room.”

You purse your lips at the boy’s obvious sarcasm.

“Fair enough. Still don’t know how we’ll get the eggs though.”

“I can see if we have any in our stores at the manor. Probably our best bet if we don’t want to risk burning down the school.” Enzo replies.

“Are you sure? We’re already using your moonstone,” you say, beginning to feel a bit bad about raiding the boy for supplies.

“It’s the least I can do really. I’m useless at potions, so least I can do is provide you with the ingredients that we need,” he says honestly with a light laugh.

“Well alright. Shall we meet up on Friday then to collect the pearls?” You ask, scribbling down your plans in your notebook.

“Sounds good, six o’clock? By the dock?”

You nod in agreement.

“Well alright then. See you then, love.” And with a grin and a cheeky wink thrown your way, Enzo is off.

At least he was pulling his weight in gathering ingredients you supposed.

Anger

“Y/n! Are you headed down to the docs?” Daphne asks slightly out of breath as she runs up to you from across the court yard.

“Yeah. Enzo tell you?”

Daphne nods her head in response as you two begin to make the short trek down to the lake.

“Hope you don’t mind if Theo and I join you?”

“Course not. Probably better that I’m not alone with Enzo by the lake anyway. Wouldn’t want him to try and drown me.” You say lightly, only slightly joking.

“Oh piss off. He’s a nice bloke once you get to know him.” Daphne laughs.

As the two of you arrive at the edge of the lake, you can already see Enzo, Theodore, and Mattheo splashing about in the water. Draco and Pansy are watching disdainfully from the shore.

You hadn’t realized this was going to be a whole party.

“Daph, please get these boys under control!” Pansy shouts when she sees the two of you approaching.

“I’m not their mum, they won’t listen to me,” Daphne replies dryly.

“Sure they will. Or at least Theo will, and the other two dimwits will follow whatever he does.” Pansy replies.

“Theodore!” Daphne shouts, turning to the three boys who were waist deep in the water by this point.

“Bella?” He calls back, visibly perking up at the sight of your friend.

You watch with amusement as Daphne points a finger at the boy and then again at the ground next to her. Theo slowly sulks over to the four of you, Mattheo and Enzo following in his wake.

“Really Theodore? You’re sopping wet,” Daphne sighs, only to be met with a sheepish grin.

“Hey love,” Enzo greets, prancing over to stand beside you.

It takes everything in you to focus anywhere but Enzo’s soaking wet shirt as it clung to his chest and abdomen like a second, very see-through skin. Bloody hell.

“Hi Enzo,” you say through gritted teeth.

“Are you sure we’ll even find pearls here? I thought pearls were from the ocean, and I don’t want to risk getting wet for nothing,” Draco says, eyeing the lake warily.

“Hogwarts a History says that fresh water pearls are common in the Black Lake,” you reply.

“What’s the difference?”

“Saltwater pearls are generally rarer, more expensive.” Pansy replies easily.

“Fresh water mussels can produce multiple pearls at a time, but oysters generally only produce a single pearl in their entire lifetime,” you explain.

“So how exactly are we going to collect these mussels?” Theo asks.

“Accio.” Daphne responds, as if it should’ve been obvious. Which it was.

Your now rather large group makes it way onto the dock, squinting into the murky water for any trace of mussels in the sand below.

Daphne finds the first one, and after that, they slowly start pouring in. Eventually, there’s a sort of system in place with you, Daphne, Pansy, and Draco scanning the dark waves for the elusive mussels, while Theo, Mattheo, and Enzo crack them open to retrieve the pearls.

It’s all going swimmingly until the boys begin to get rowdy once more, with Mattheo sending a small wave of water at Enzo when his back is turned. Daphne gives the boys several warning glares as the waves gradually grow larger, only for them to start up again the moment your backs are turned.

Eventually it turns into an all out water war between the three of them once more, and you scowl as you feel a splash of water hit your leg.

Could they not cause a ruckus for one afternoon? You thought bitterly as another mussel flew into your hand. You go to place it in the pile with the others when you feel a weight hit you like a ton of bricks. Then cold. Everything is cold as you feel yourself hit the water.

“What the fuck!” You exclaim once your head breaks the surface and you frantically wipe water from your eyes.

You look over to see Lorenzo in the water near you, a grin plastered across his face. His smile quickly fades however when he sees the pure murderous intent in your eyes.

“What is wrong with you?” You shout, swimming over to him, and shoving him under the waves.

“Y/n! You can’t drown him!” Daphne yells from the dock.

“Watch me!”

“It was an accident, swear!” Enzo gasps when his head re-emerges once more.

With one last scream of rage, you make your way to land as Daphne runs to catch up with you.

“Seriously Daphne? What is wrong with him?” You rage as you storm up the hill back to the castle.

“I really don’t think he meant for you to get shoved into the lake. The boys can get pretty tunnel visioned,” Daphne offers as she follows behind.

“That’s easy for you to say, you’re not the one who went for a swim,” you mutter between chattering teeth, the cold really beginning to sink in.

“Oh I’m not defending him. Not completely I mean. He was totally acting like a right git. The other boys too. I don’t blame you for being upset, I would be too. I’m just saying, maybe don’t be too hard on him? It was an accident after all, and he really did look sorry.”

When you only shrug in response, Daphne sighs.

“Look. Give him one last chance, and if you still think he’s the worst person on earth, at least exploit the fact that he really does feel bad, and milk it for all he’s worth. Okay?”

You let out a smile at this.

“Spoken like a true Slytherin, Daph.”

Bargaining

The following Monday when you take your seat next to Lorenzo in potions, he immediately turns his head, almost like he’s surprised you hadn’t demanded to be reassigned partners.

“I’m so sorry, y/n. I really didn’t mean for you to end up in the lake, Theo just shoved me and I grabbed on the closest thing which happened to be you. I really am sorry,” he rambles, fiddling with the quill in his hand nervously.

“It’s okay. I know it was an accident, so let’s just move on, alright?” You say with a sigh.

Maybe if the both of you just moved on, this nightmare of a pairing would be over sooner.

“Really?” Lorenzo asks, his bright personality snapping back into place.

“Sure Enzo.”

“Excellent. Because I was able to get us these,” he says proudly, carefully pulling two little eggs and a medium sized moonstone out of his bag. “Oh, and the pearls.” He adds, placing the eggs, stone, and glass container filled with pearls on the table in front of you.

You eye the ingredients carefully before determining that they were in fact all up to standard.

“Perfect. I’ll begin crushing up the pearls, if you take care of the moonstone?” You say, already pouring the shiny orbs into your mortar and pestle.

The two of you work surprisingly well together for the rest of the class period, almost as if you’d been working together for years. It takes you by surprise how easy the brown haired boy is to work with. You hadn’t been expecting much, knowing that potions wasn’t Enzo’s strong suit. But he made up for it by making sure you never wanted for anything. Needed a vial for your pearl dust? It was in your hands before you even had to ask. A fire needed to be lit beneath the ashwinder eggs to keep them from spoiling? Enzo’s wand was pointed in their direction before you had the chance to open your mouth.

As class winds down and you go to make your exit, you feel a hand on your wrist.

“Y/n?” Enzo says, stopping you. You turn to look at the boy.

“Look uh, I know that you’re not my biggest fan, or at least that’s what I gathered from Daph,” he begins to ramble, scratching the back of his neck, “but, could we maybe like, just start over?”

You’re a bit skeptical at first, but seeing his nervous smile melts something in you. Being friendly couldn’t hurt, you reasoned. And it would certainly make working with the boy easier.

“Alright, Enzo, we can start over.”

“Wicked.” He says with a grin. “Don’t suppose you’d like to meet in the greenhouse later then to gather the rest of our ingredients? Promise I won’t drag Theo and Matt along this time.”

“Sounds lovely.”

The both of you agree to meet right after classes are released that day, and as you make your way down the cobblestone path to the greenhouse, you can’t seem to push the memories of wet hair and an infectious smile from your thoughts.

“Hi love!” Enzo calls out as soon as you push open the doors of the greenhouse. The boy is elbows deep in soil, pulling at the roots of a suspiciously pink colored plant.

“How’d you get here so fast?” you ask, glancing at the clock to see that classes had ended not even ten minutes ago.

“Herbology is my last class of the day,” he explains, brushing some of the dirt off his gloves.

“Ah. So you wanted to meet right after classes ended so you wouldn’t have to make the trek back out here?” You ask, fingertips brushing the soft petals of one of the many flowering plants growing within the greenhouse.

“Well, and I wanted to see you again sooner,” he replies with a shrug and a cheeky grin.

You roll you eyes as you feel your cheeks heat up, turning quickly and hoping he hadn’t seen.

“So where are the rose bushes?” You ask, looking around at the distinct lack of roses within the building.

Enzo gives a nervous chuckle. “About that. Apparently Professor Sprout didn’t think that the common rose was, ah, dangerous enough, for her plant collection,” Enzo says, gesturing towards the various plants, “so, uh, there are none. But! We can grow them pretty easily. It might take a week or two to grow a full bush to peak maturity, but it should be fine.”

You let out a sigh. Of course Hogwarts wouldn’t grow something as simple and common as a rose.

“Alright, well. Let’s begin I suppose.”

Enzo immediately perks up as he goes to fetch a large pot and a bag of soil and you begin to rifle through the cabinets to find rose seeds. After several minutes with no success, you feel a warm presence behind you as Enzo leans over your shoulder and plucks a packet off the top shelf.

“You certainly know your way around,” you murmur, looking up to find the boy’s face much closer than anticipated. You feel heat rise to your cheeks once more and you duck under is elbow, making your escape.

“Herbology is my best subject,” Enzo says, trailing behind you.

“Ah, so you’re the Slytherin version of Neville Longbottom then eh?” You say with a grin as you watch him fill the pot with soil.

Enzo grimaces, making a face.

“No, I’m much better looking,” he says with a smirk.

Bloody self-aware bastard.

It only takes a few minutes for Enzo to bury the seeds in the soil and place several incantations over the dirt before he looks up at you with a triumphant grin.

“All good to go,” he says happily. “Though we should probably check back in daily to refresh the enchantments and such.”

You nod your head at the boy.

Over the course of the next few days, Enzo uses your time spent together to pick your brain for any morsel of information he could get out of you. He really was determined to be your friend apparently.

“What’s your favorite plant?” He asks you on the third day of your little meetings.

You tilt your head a bit in consideration.

“No, no, wait, I bet I can guess. Is it peonies? Your perfume is peony scented right?” He asks.

“Yeah, it is. Peony and vanilla,” you say, eyeing the boy suspiciously.

“Knew it,” he says, looking rather self satisfied.

“And yours?” You ask, leaning against the table to look up at him.

“Hmm?”

“What’s your favorite flower? Or plant that is.”

Enzo pauses for a moment, eyes flickering around the greenhouse for a moment before landing on you.

“I like roses.”

“Really?” You say, scrunching your nose a bit.

“I’m a romantic, what can I say?”

“Gross. That’s so cliche.” You tease, a small smile gracing your face.

As the days go on, your time spent in the greenhouse becomes longer and longer as you and Lorenzo banter about the ridiculous questions he’d come up with. Did owls have knees? Which house would win in hand to hand combat? Were Theodore and Daphne secretly hooking up in the fifth floor prefect’s bathroom? (The answer was yes.)

You were shocked to find that, while still a bit of a prat, Enzo really was rather smart and witty. As the days went on, it became easier and easier to open up to the boy until the two of you were talking like old friends.

It happened slowly. You really didn’t even notice at first. But by the second week, you found yourself looking forward to your daily meetings, and found yourself thinking of the handsome brunette when he wasn’t around, and you caught yourself staring at the boy a bit too long after he’d already looked away.

Over the years of being friends with Daph, you’d often been forced into the proximity of the boy. Always noting the way he’d easily move from one witch to the next, his charm never seeming to fail him. You had been so determined to make sure that you would never be one of those witches. Just another tally on Lorenzo’s ever growing list of conquests.

But it had happened. The unimaginable. The impossible. You were falling for Lorenzo Berkshire. No, this simply wouldn’t do you thought to yourself as you made the familiar trek to the greenhouse.

Your mind raced as you thought of ways to stop this madness. Maybe if you went back to pushing the boy away. Or if you just ignored him. Yes. If you just shut him out, these feelings would go away.

Sarcasm

The next several days for Lorenzo were miserable. And that was putting it nicely.

“She hates me!” Enzo wailed dramatically, hanging upside down off the edge of his bed.

It had been three days since your terrifying revelation in the green house, and Enzo was very convinced that he was going insane.

He could still remember clearly the day that Daphne had introduced him to her new friend after one fateful day in herbology. You had been so wicked smart, and kind, and funny, and your smile had melted his heart. He was pretty sure he’d been in love with you ever since. But he was lucky if you even acknowledged his presence most days.

“Can you blame her? Didn’t you send a flock of peacocks after her when we were all visiting Draco’s last year?” Mattheo asks, squinting at his friend.

“I thought it’d be romantic! How was I supposed to know they weren’t friendly?”

“There’s also that time in third year, you knocked her off her broom playing quidditch.” Draco adds, scowling at the memory of Enzo harassing the birds on his family’s property.

“I caught her after!” Enzo protests.

“She still sprained her wrist.”

“Oh yea. And then you tried to give her a kiss as an apology, but ended up with a nice bruise on your jaw instead,” Mattheo laughs.

Lorenzo wasn't going to lie, that was a particular sore spot for him.

“And let’s of course not forget the most recent offense. Trying to drown her in the lake. Thank Salazar I wasn’t there for that scene.” Blaise mutters.

Enzo winces.

After the incident at the lake, Enzo was sure he was done for. The look of pure rage in your eyes had felt as though you had stomped on his heart, and then cruciod it for good measure. But then you had accepted his apology and even agreed to start things over. Enzo had felt the first real burst of hope after four pitiful years of pining.

Sure he’d made some missteps over the years. As his friends so graciously enjoyed reminding him, but he meant well!

The two of you had talked. Laughed. He’d even allowed his hand to brush up against yours a time or two, delighted when you didn’t flinch away.

And then, as if the switch had flipped, it was back how it had been before. Enzo felt like he had whiplash with the way you had turned right back around to treating him like a total stranger.

Theo eyed his roommate with concern.

“Bloody hell, he’s worse than you pining over Daphne,” Mattheo mutters, jabbing an elbow into Theo’s rib cage, earning him a sharp glare.

“I don’t understand! Things were going so well! She was actually talking to me and everything, and now it’s like I’m right back at square one,” Enzo sighs, ignoring his bickering roommates.

“I don’t know what you’re expecting from us mate. You’re supposed to be the romantic one of the group. Though with your track record, I’m not sure why we’ve been taking your advice all these years. You’re a wreck.” Blaise says, matter of factly.

“You tried talking to Daph bout it?” Theo asks, not quite sure how to help his slightly delirious friend.

“Ask me about what?” Daphne asks, seemingly materializing in the doorway of the boys’ shared dormitory.

She makes her way into the room, face morphing into one of both concern and disgust as she takes in Enzo's distraught state.

Theo eyes his friend, as if to say “good luck mate.”

Dragging himself into an upright position, Enzo considers the girl in front of him. How had he not thought of it before? Y/n’s best friend had been at his disposal this entire time, and he’d never thought to simply ask her.

Lorenzo turns to look at Daphne.

“Daph?”

“Yes Enz?”

“Does y/n fancy anyone?” He asks, trying to sound as casual and nonchalant as possible.

Daphne raises a brow.

“If you’re trying to subtly ask if I happened to know of her feelings towards you, you’re doing a lousy job."

Enzo pouts, sticking out his bottom lip and honestly looking quite pathetic.

"For Salazar's sake, what happened?" Daphne huffs, making herself comfortable on Theo's bed, much to his delight.

“Enzo is down bad. Obviously.” Mattheo states.

Daphne shoots the boy a glare, rolling her eyes at the curly haired boy.

"We've been working in the green house together, and I thought things were going so well. She was talking to me, and laughing and everything.” Enzo says, falling back into his bed dramatically.

“Well then what’s the problem? You like her I thought.” Daphne replies with an annoyed huff.

“That’s just it isn’t it? It wasn’t a problem. But then suddenly, a few days ago, she went completely cold again. Like the last couple weeks never happened." he laments.

Daphne opens her mouth. Then closes it, shutting her eyes and taking a deep breath. For the love of- she loved you. Truly she did. But you were going to be the end of her.

“I’ll take care of this.” She announces, promptly rising from the bed just as Theo was about to sneak an arm around her.

He glowers at Enzo who gives him an apologetic grin.

Daphne had been your best friend for years at this point, and most of the time, she was convinced that she knew you better than you knew yourself. She wasn't blind. Or dumb for that matter. She knew that there were some strong feelings between you and Enzo, though she had never really bothered to figure out if they were positive or negative. Clearly she should've and all of this could have been avoided she thought wistfully to herself. At least this explained the strange tension between the two of you as of late.

“Y/n.” Daphne huffs, sitting next to you on a bench in the court yard.

“Daph,” you greet, looking up from your book.

“So, when were you going to tell me that you fancy Lorenzo?” She asks, staring you dead in the eye.

You feel your mouth gape like a fish out of water.

“Right Daph. Like I’d ever fancy that peacock.” You reply, doing your best to appear disdainful.

“Don’t you get an attitude with me.” Daphne responds. She’d always been able to see right through you. “Enzo told me everything. The chatting. The giggling. The immediate turn around as if nothing had happened. Textbook case of realizing you like someone while being emotionally constipated!” Daphne announces.

“Shhh!” You hush your friend, glancing around to make sure no one had noticed the scene. “You know that being mean and sarcastic is my only defense mechanism!” You hiss.

“Oh honestly y/n. We both know you won't be able to use that excuse forever.” Daphne says with a dramatic eye roll. “Besides, he likes you too. Why do you think he’s always preening when you’re around. He’s trying to impress you, you dolt.”

“Fantastic. He’s only a prat when I’m around. How romantic,” you mutter.

“Well you certainly didn’t think he was being a prat when you were spending all that time in the green house together. Don’t think I didn’t notice you two disappearing for several hours. No one is spending that much time every day looking at flowers.”

“We were just talking,” you defend.

“Mmhm. And then you stopped talking because you got scared and now Enzo is a wreck.”

You feel a pang of guilt. You hadn’t meant to hurt Enzo. You hadn’t thought that he actually might like you too.

“I’ll apologize tomorrow in class, I guess,” you mutter.

Daphne sighs.

“Look. I’m not saying that you have to date him, or even tell him you like him. But you’re both my friends, and I don’t like seeing either of you upset.”

“I know Daph. I’m just confused is all. I thought I hated him.”

“Well, I’ve always been told that the line between love and hate is fine.” Daphne replies.

Bloody hell, when had your friend become this philosophic?

“I’ll get it sorted tomorrow. Promise.” You tell her.

Daphne nods, giving you a comforting smile.

“Good. And word of advice. Drop the sarcasm, Enz might cry if you put him through anymore emotional whiplash.”

Acceptance

You sat nervously in the potions classroom having arrived close to fifteen minutes early as you couldn’t shake away your nerves. Glancing at the clock on the wall, your classmates should start filing in at any moment.

You’d finally managed to gather all the need ingredients for your potion, so today would be the day that you and Enzo would be able to brew your amortentia.

Your fingers twirled the stems of the roses you’d collected mindlessly as your thoughts buzzed between your conversation yesterday with Daphne, and the fluffy haired brunette boy that had taken up permanent residency in your every thought.

Remembering the silly game one of your roommates had played years ago, you began plucking the rose petals off of the stem, one by one. You were going to have to do it eventually anyway. He loves me, he loves me not, the phrase repeats in your mind.

“Look nervous,” A voice comments from behind you.

Startled out of your thoughts, you look up just in time to see Enzo take his seat beside you.

Clearing your throat, you give the boy a small smile.

“Just thinking about the potion. Not going to be an easy one to brew today, and I’d like to get a good mark,” you reply.

“Of course.” Enzo replies, a strained look on his face. “Wouldn’t want to waste any more of your time then.”

You open your mouth to reply, but close it again when no words come to mind. Instead, you opt to sweep your rose petals into a small pile and begin shaving off the rose thorns as Enzo wordlessly takes out the gold cauldron, lighting a fire beneath.

“So,” you say awkwardly, the deafening silence finally getting to you. “How bout that weather?”

You hear a clatter as Enzo drops pestle he was holding to look at you incredulously.

“I know some of my conversation attempts were bad, but that was downright criminal.” He says with a snort.

Unable to hold back your laughter, you let out a giggle. “Yeah, I’ll see myself to Azkaban for that one.”

And just like that, the two of you fall back into your comfortable rhythm of idle chatter, jokes, bickering as you work seamlessly together.

You can’t help but watch with silent admiration as Enzo dutifully stirs the cauldron, careful to keep even counter clockwise strokes. A few tendrils of soft brown hair fall in front of the boy’s face and he gently blows them to the side with an annoyed puff.

“Pearl dust?” He asks, reaching his hand out.

As you hand him the vial, your fingertips brush softly, and you feel heat rush to your cheeks. The heat from the cauldron must be really getting to you.

“If you just want to add the powdered moonstone, we should be all done,” Enzo says after a moment, taking a step back to allow you to complete the final step.

Slowly, you approach the boiling cauldron, carefully sprinkling in your meticulously measured moonstone powder. You stir the concoction a bit longer until you see a familiar pearlescent sheen and swirling tendrils of steam.

“Think we’ve done it,” you say with a smile, looking over at your partner.

He grins back, joining you in leaning over the steaming cauldron.

“Well? What do you smell?” He asks cheekily.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“We both take a wiff? On three?” Enzo asks.

You nod in agreement, watching the swirling colors within the cauldron. They say that amortentia smells like the things you’re most attracted to, and you’d always been curious what scents the potion would elicit for you.

“One, two, three.”

You lean in, and immediately you’re hit with the earthy scent of fresh soil, a soft hint of rose, and something else- oh. Oh. You feel your eyes widen.

“Peony. And vanilla.” Enzo murmurs, head still hovering above the cauldron before he turns to look at you.

The moment your eyes meet, you both know.

“I need a moment,” you mumble, hurrying out of the classroom.

As you rush past Daphne’s table, you hear the girl run after you into the corridor.

“What happened? Are you alright?” Daphne asks as the two of you come to a stop in a small alcove that’s somewhat hidden behind one of the many large stone statues that decorate the halls.

“It’s Lorenzo. My potion- it smells like Lorenzo. Or, it smells like fresh soil, and roses, and that stupid expensive cologne that he always wears,” you gasp, out of breath.

“Oh? And what did he smell?”

“Me. My perfume. Peonies and vanilla.”

“Well, that’s good then isn’t it? That you both smelled each other? I know when we talked yesterday I said you don’t necessarily have to tell the boy you fancy him, but, if you both really like each other that much. What’s the harm?” Daphne tries to reason.

“I don’t know! I just didn’t realize I liked him that much and it freaked me out. And I’ve been icing him out these past couple days, so he’s probably so cross with me. But he’s been so nice today, I don’t know what to do Daph. I’m not good with feelings. I was never going to act on anything!”

“Is that why you did all that? Back there?” A voice asks. “And why you’ve been acting strange the past several days?”

The two of you whip around to see Enzo staring wide eyed at the both of you, mouth slightly agape.

“I think I’d best let the two of you sort this out,” Daphne says, slipping out of the alcove and back into the classroom.

“I’m sorry, you weren’t meant to hear any of that,” you start as Enzo wordlessly approaches.

“You like me?” He asks once he’s close enough that you can feel the warmth radiating off of him. He looks genuinely surprised at the notion as he stares down at you intensely.

You nod slowly. “Smelled you in that bloody potion,” you mumble.

Enzo’s smile falls.

“Is it that bad? Liking me?” He asks, hurt written across his face.

“No! No it’s not! I just thought I didn’t like you- no, that’s not what I meant. I was surprised that I fancied you is all, and didn’t know what to do. Because we’ve know each other so long, and we haven’t necessarily always gotten along. And I didn’t really realize I liked you at first, and I got all freaked out and then I panicked, and-“

“Y/n, can I kiss you?” Enzo asks, interrupting your rambling.

You freeze, looking up at the boy in front of you.

“Yes please,” you murmur.

Without wasting another moment, Enzo’s lips meet yours with a hunger and passion you didn’t realize the boy had in him.

Any last trace of doubt or worry you had disappears as his soft lips move against yours, melting you into him like putty in his hands.

Right as you’re about to run out of air, you feel Enzo’s lips trail off to your cheek, placing gentle kisses as he trails down to your jaw, and then your neck.

“Enz,” you mumble softly as you feel the warm, sucking sensation against your skin in the crook of your neck.

“Shh,” he whispers, lips meeting yours once more.

You feel yourself getting lost in the sensation as he moves against you until Daphne’s voice brings you back to reality once more.

“Just so you’re both aware, we are still in class,” she calls from around the corner.

You feel your cheeks heat up as Enzo lets out a soft laugh above you.

“Rest assured love, we will be coming back to this later,” he says before placing a kiss on your forehead and leading you back into the classroom.

If there’s one thing about me, it’s that I’ll take any excuse to write a cheesy amortentia fic🤪

Special thanks to @finalgirllx and @pizzaapeteer for editing and rvwing🫶🏽

#hogmarch challenge #slytherin boys #harry potter universe #slytherin #lorenzo berkshire #theodore nott #matteo riddle #draco malfoy #enzo berkshire x reader #enzo berkshire #lorenzo berkshire x you #lorenzo berkshire x reader #Enzo Berkshire x y/n #daphne greengrass #pansy parkinson #amortentia #mattheo riddle #theo nott

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rachalixie · 2 months

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my love, mine all mine

a/n: happy valentine's my angel @astraystayyh and my star @forlix <333 (this is not my best work but be kind to me i wrote it in a rush because i wanted it to be READY FOR YOU TODAY)

hyunjin setting up the perfect valentine's day for you

warnings: fem!reader, 2.3k

genre: fluff, est. relationship

you wake up on valentine’s day the same as you do any other day - a little grumpy, a lot tired, and above all wanting to close your eyes for just a few more minutes.

it takes you longer to admit to drag yourself into the shower and get dressed, but you give yourself credit for doing it before noon; you weren’t a morning person by nature.

you didn’t feel any particular way about valentine’s day - you’ve never had a valentine, never been in a serious enough relationship to where you felt it needed to be celebrated. you had whispered this to hyunjin a few days ago, cuddled into his chest at night, but beyond that you hadn’t really thought about it much.

it seems that hyunjin had, though, seeing as your living room floor was covered in red rose petals. a single, small. pink gift bag sat on the coffee table and you couldn’t help the jaw-aching smile that you were wearing. there was no sign that he was still there, his shoes were absent at the door and the absent-minded humming he habited wasn’t reaching your ears. he must have used the spare key to come in and set this up before work, and the idea of him coming over to do this and letting you sleep in on your day off was so sweet you thought you might get a toothache from it.

you walk to the center of the room to open the gift, on your tiptoes to avoid stepping on the sweet smelling petals scattered on the carpet. your mouth drops into an O shape when a single piece of paper is revealed at the bottom of the bag.

put these coordinates into your maps, it reads, and you frown in confusion. you do it, and an address pops up that you’ve never seen before. you assume he wants you to go there, but why? he was at work, wasn’t he?

your short walk there leads you to a coffee shop just a few blocks away from your apartment, a small family-owned one that you had been meaning to try for weeks. it’s cozy, with paper hearts and flowers decorating the place and chalkboard menus advertising sweet sounding valentine’s lattes.

“this is for you,” the server at the counter tells you as you approach to order, holding out a paper cup and a neatly folded paper bag. you take the items from her, inspecting them carefully. the cup has earl gray tea latte scrawled onto its side, and the bag contains a mouth-watering pastry dotted with bits of almond and chocolate. what is this?

“how much do i owe…?” you look back up at the server as she turns to return to stocking the pastry case, and her ponytail swishes as she faces you.

“it’s taken care of,” she winks at you, smiling. “someone really loves you, huh?”

“yeah,” your heart swells as you take a seat in the corner of the shop to enjoy your breakfast. “he does.”

you sip on your tea slowly, people watching as the thought of hyunjin rushing here after stopping at your place to give them your order warming you from the inside out. an elderly couple comes in next, hand in hand as they place an order. a young man stops by, holding a bouquet of flowers and blushing as he asks for two strawberry-chocolate mochas.

several people later, you stand up to recycle the cup and empty paper bag, walking out the door as you take your phone out to send hyunjin an aggressive thank-you text.

“wait!” the server calls after you, and you stop in your steps as she jogs to catch up with you. “i forgot to give you this.”

she stretches her hand out towards you, a small gift bag identical to the one you’d found in your apartment dangling off of her fingers.

“oh, thank you,” you say, blinking at the bag as she disappears almost as quickly as she came.

get in the car, it reads. you glance up just as a sleek black sedan pulls up next to you, the tinted passenger side window rolling down to reveal seungmin.

“what is this?” you pop your head into the window, sending a glare at him as if that would make him talk. if there is anyone who will keep a secret to the death, it’s kim seungmin.

“the note says to get in the car,” he rolls his eyes, unlocking the door so you could slide in next to him. “we don’t want to be late.”

“late to what?” you ask, but he ignores you in favor of turning the music up. it’s playing a song from your favorite artist, one that you know seungmin doesn’t listen to.

he rolls the car to a stop on a familiar street downtown and he finally smiles at you as he unlocks the doors again.

“we’re here,” he says, then exits the car to hop around to your side to open the door for you. “enjoy the rest of your day, madam.”

“what a gentleman,” you tease him, taking his hand as he helps you out of the car.

“for the woman of honor? it’s my pleasure,” before you could ask him what he meant by honor, he’s hopping back into his car and driving off.

this is weird. right?

he had dropped you off right in front of your regular nail salon. as you’re waiting by the door, conflicted over whether you should go in or not, one of the technicians opens the door, waving at you to come in.

“hi,” you greet her, “i was, well. driven here? but i don’t have an appointment.”

“of course you have an appointment,” she grins, white teeth flashing at you. “for right now. come right this way!”

she leads you to a chair, and your favorite tech exits out the staff room in the back and sits across the table from you.

“hi beautiful,” she says, and the familiarity of her tampers down the overwhelming feeling that had been creeping up on you. “full set, right? what color?”

“oh, i wasn’t really prepared…” you think of your dwindling bank account and grimace. “maybe just polish? dark red, though.”

“oh don’t worry,” she winks at you before getting her materials set up at the station. “it’s been paid in advance.”

as she gets to work on your nails, you can’t help the all-consuming rush of affection that surges through you. when had hyunjin had time to plan all of this?

you thank everyone profusely once she’s done, marveling at your new set of nails. you’re not as surprised this time when the girl who had waved you in earlier hands you a small, now familiar gift bag.

the next stop leads you to a hair salon, one that you’ve never been to if only because it was so expensive. designer products lined the walls for purchase, plush leather seats were placed in front of lit up floor to ceiling mirrors - it was like a palace.

you’re the only customer there, which surprised you. it was valentine’s day, didn’t others want to get their hair done too?

you couldn’t complain though, especially when the hair stylist asks you what you wanted done and listened to you with rapt attention. the lack of anyone else there was a welcome surprise.

the stylist washes your hair, the water she uses somehow the perfect temperature for you. her fingers move in expert motions, relaxing you and making you melt into the chair.

she walks you over to her station and gets started on blow-drying your wet hair, and man approaches with a basket full of makeup. he wordlessly brushes it on, making gentle swiping motions across your eyelids and cheeks that almost feel like hyunjin’s eyelashes fluttering against your skin.

they work in amazing synchronization, so in tune with one another that you’re a little overwhelmed by the time they finish.

“you look divine,” the man compliments, high-fiving the hair stylist over your head.

“like a princess,” the woman nods, turning you towards the mirror and - oh. you do look amazing, soft waves framing your face and neutral tones accenting your eyes.

“thank you so much,” you gush, marveling at how the blush and highlight adorning your cheeks turn brighter when you smile.

“it’s our pleasure,” the makeup artist replies, patting your shoulder. “you were wonderful to work on. come back anytime.”

“let me guess,” you can’t help the smile from leaving your face. “it’s taken care of?”

the man nods as the hair stylist hands you the gift bag you were already expecting.

this time it tells you to cross the street, and a quick glance shows a small row of shops. there’s a tiny number scribbled on the corner of the slip of paper, and it matches up with the number on top of one of the shops. it was a small boutique, less flashy than any of the places you've been directed to all day.

this stop is more of a quick affair, a young girl greeting you like she knew you and ushering you into a changing room where a shoe box is waiting on a stool and a garment bag hangs on a hook. you unzip it to reveal a beautiful red dress, flowy fabric falling like waterfalls off of the hanger.

you put it on and it fits you like a well-worn ring, complimenting your figure like it was tailored specifically for you. the heels are a perfect fit too, and you almost feel like cinderella waiting to meet your prince. the girl is waiting outside when you step out, and you feel the urge to hide from her when she fixes you with a scrutinizing look.

“how do i look?” you ask her, and her face breaks out into a beam towards you.

“you look phenomenal,” she gushes, twirling you around so she could see every angle. “he chose so well, the dress compliments you perfectly.”

“my clothes?” you turn back to get them, but she stops you with a hand on your elbow.

“don’t worry about them, they’ll get back to you,” she walks you towards the door. “he’s right next door - don’t be late!”

you take a deep breath as you exit the shop, your fingers wringing together with unexpected nerves. why are you nervous? hyunjin had created the perfect day for you - finally seeing him would be the icing on the perfect cake. you push through the nerves as you push open the door, and you cant help but gasp in wonder when you take in the interior.

it looks like an abandoned storefront, remodeled to make a whimsical scene. there’s strings of fairy lights lining the brick walls, creeping around green vines that make the space look like something out of a storybook. rose petals, the same ones from this morning, line a trail towards a small table in the center of the room. candles shone on top of it, two glasses of freshly poured wine glinting in the firelight, and next to the table is a man who’s been waiting eagerly.

it’s hyunjin, standing tall with a deliciously fitted suit framing his body and a single rose held in his hand. you walk towards him, your heels clicking on the floor as you try not to trip in your rush to fall into his arms.

“you did all this? the whole thing?” you ask, willing the tears to stay in your lids as to not mess up your freshly done makeup. out of all the things you’ve done today, getting to stand in the circle of his arms is by far the best part.

“of course i did,” he rubs a hand up and down your spine, letting the tips of his fingers trace across the zipper there. “i wanted to make this day perfect.”

“i loved it,” you pull away to look him in the eyes. “i love you. i would have loved it if you showed in sweatpants up with takeout too.”

“i know,” he looks at you with an overwhelming amount of fondness brimming in his eyes. “but you’re special. i wanted to do something that showed you how special you are.”

“you’re a real life prince, did you know that?” you lay a light smack on his chest, so overfilled with happiness that you didn’t know what to do with yourself.

“well, if i’m a prince,” he leans in to press a kiss to your cheek, then to your forehead. “then you’re my princess.”

he pulls something out of his pocket and fastens it behind your neck, and you look down as a light weight settles between your collarbones. it’s a necklace, a dainty H hanging off of a chain, a single stone nestled in the middle of the pendant.

“this is too much,” you pout, much too pleased to actually throw a fuss. you know he loves you, and you know how he loves.

“nothing is too much when it comes to you,” his voice is fragile and honest, and you can’t help but kiss him, giggling when you pull away and he chases after you.

he holds out the chair closest to you and pushes it in for you, dashing to the other side to sit down himself. he drops his hand to the table, upturned with his fingers splayed, and you take the message to intertwine your fingers with his as you take a sip of the sweetest wine that has ever touched your lips.

he doesn’t let go of your hand for the entire night.

#stray kids imagines #stray kids fluff #stray kids #skz fluff #hyunjin imagines #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin x reader

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3minsover · 9 months

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dog walker eddie who takes steve’s retriever out for him while he’s at work. they met once when steve hired him, and eddie fell head over heels.

after that first meeting, their paths never quite cross; steve’s gone long before eddie gets there, and doesn’t get home til long after he’s finished walking and playing with the dog. but they do find ways to talk through the week. steve leaves notes on the counter -

‘Buddy’s being a real shithead today, there’s chunks of cheese in the fridge to win him over’,

‘new tube of tennis balls on the stairs. have fun!’,

‘baked some cookies yesterday - help yourself.’

and eddie smiles whenever he sees them, scribbles little notes in response. he tries not to give too much away, but then one day after a couple months, he accidentally jots a hasty ‘x’ at the end of his message. he doesn’t realise he’s done it until after he leaves. and it’s nerve wracking, letting himself back into steve’s house the next day. but when he spots steve’s note, his heart skips a beat.

‘hi, i know it’s saturday tomorrow, but i wondered if you wanted to take Buddy out together? is 11 okay? Steve x’

eddie stares at the note for a good minute, before gathering all his courage, scrawling three words and a single letter in return.

‘it’s a date. x’

#steddie #steddie au #3minsover #steve harrington x eddie munson #originally posted on twitter

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steddiehyperfixation · 3 months

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don't you forget about me (part eight; final)

(part one)(part two)(part three)(part four)(part five)(part six)(part seven) (ao3 link)

It was an “if” if Eddie would actually be discharged today, but now, after some more poking and prodding, he's finally on his way home with prescriptions for pain meds and physical therapy.

Wayne helps him up the three creaky, beautifully familiar stairs into the trailer, and Eddie collapses onto the old, beautifully familiar couch the second he gets inside. The weary groan he lets out is only slightly over-dramatized. “I feel like an 80 year old man,” he complains, entire body sore and aching to the bone already. “Now I know how you feel.”

“Oi, I ain't that old,” Wayne protests. When Eddie snorts derisively, Wayne rolls his eyes and chuckles. “Alright, fine, so we both got creaky knees now. You, at least, will be young and spry again in no time, though,” his uncle tells him. “Just get some rest, old man.”

Eddie heaves a great big sigh, takes another breath to steel himself, and then does just the opposite of that.

“What did I just say?” Wayne mutters as Eddie moves to stand again.

“I said I’d call Steve,” Eddie says. Steve had to go to work, but he'd told Eddie that morning to call him if he ended up making it home today. “I’ll dip out of work and come hang out, help you settle in, if you want,” Steve had said.

Wayne offers, “I can call him for you.”

“No, no, I got it,” Eddie insists, words broken by a grunt as he hauls himself back to his feet. “I can make it to the phone, Wayne, I'm not a complete invalid.”

“Alright.” Wayne raises his hands in defeat and backs off. He’s never been one to hover. “You just shout if you need me.”

Eddie limps - slowly, painfully, with difficulty - to the phone on the wall by the tiny dining table they never use, the surface littered instead with unopened mail and haphazard papers scribbled with notes and reminders and important phone numbers. He leans heavily against the table as he paws through the piles trying to find a note of Steve's number. Eddie finds it buried deep, probably long since memorized by now before his memory got erased, but there it is: a notepad paper with Steve's name scrawled on it and two phone numbers written underneath, home and work.

“Bingo.” Eddie grabs the paper, takes the phone off the hook, and dials the work number.

The phone rings a couple times, and then: “Family Video. How can I help you?”

“Hey, Stevie.” Eddie smiles at the sound of his voice, as if he hadn't literally just heard it only a few hours ago.

“Eddie!” Steve's bored customer service voice brightens. “Are you home? How are you feeling?”

“Yeah, I’m home. I’m alright. I mean, I’m bone-fucking-tired and feel about a million years old, but it's really really good to be back,” Eddie says honestly. He adds, “I’m under strict orders to rest, though - gonna be bored out of my mind, so I could use the company if you were serious about ditching work for me.”

“Of course I was serious,” replies Steve. “It's a slow day today anyways.”

Eddie grins. “Get your sweet ass over here then.”

A smile is evident in Steve's voice too. “I'll be there in ten.”

Eddie hangs up, tries his best to wipe this stupid lovesick grin off his face. He stumbles his way down the hall to his room next, flicking on some music from the cassette player on his dresser and looking around. His room is just as beautifully familiar as the rest of the trailer, not much changed from the way he last remembers it. The same music and D&D shit clutter his surfaces, the same posters clutter his walls. His bed is unmade, clothes litter the floor, same as always.

The only differences: his beloved electric guitar no longer hangs on the wall by the mirror (he was told, devastatingly, that she hadn't survived her trip to the Upside Down), and there are photographs he doesn't recognize taped up around the corners of that mirror. Eddie staggers over to get a closer look, only to first be momentarily jumpscared by his own reflection. His face is pale, eyes sunken, and his hair frizzes out in a greasy, tangled mess around his head, unwashed and unbrushed for who knows how long. Gross, but whatever. He manages to ignore his sickly appearance and inspects the pictures he had apparently deemed important enough to stick to the edges of his mirror.

There are photos of Eddie smiling with Hellfire and his band and the kids, in large groups and small groups, with old friends he remembers and newer ones he doesn't quite. But what catches his attention the most is a photobooth strip of him and Steve. The first picture shows the two of them grinning, arms slung around each other’s shoulders; the second, a silly face photo, Eddie sticking out his tongue and Steve crossing his eyes; the third, Eddie giving Steve devil horns while Steve laughs; and the fourth-

Eddie plucks the strip off the mirror, stumbles, so taken aback he trips over his own lame feet until he plops down heavily onto his bed, and he stares. He stares at the last image in the row, which depicts - clear as day and undeniably real, immortalized in ink on photo paper - Steve kissing Eddie, tender hand on his cheek, both of them smiling against each other’s lips.

He stares and he stares and he stares. And the longer he stares the more he can almost feel it, taste it, see the events of that photo strip playing out in his mind’s eye like a waking dream. Like a memory.

Steve pulls up to the trailer, the one with the metal music blaring from somewhere inside that announces to the whole park that Eddie Munson is back home. He smiles at the sound, gets out of his car and bounds toward it.

It's Wayne who lets him in when Steve knocks on the door. “He's in his room,” the older man tells him as he steps aside to let Steve in. “Make sure he's stayin’ off his feet, will you? ‘Cause lord knows he won't listen to me.”

“Yeah, I got it,” Steve says, and his tone and his smile say I got him. Wayne nods.

Steve makes his way down the hall to Eddie’s room. He raps his knuckles against the door first, but he doubts that can even be heard over the music so he pushes it open without waiting for a response. “Hey, Ed-” Steve starts, only to falter when he sees Eddie sitting statue-still on the edge of his bed, eyes boring holes into a photo strip of the two of them together. “Oh.”

Eddie blinks, expression unreadable as he looks up and over at Steve. “Why didn't you tell me?”

“I-” Steve doesn't know what to say, what he should say. His veins buzz with a nauseating mix of hope and anxiety and it's making him feel a bit sick. He takes a deep breath, turns down the music so he can think. “I wanted to. I just- I thought it would freak you out. You didn't know me. I didn't want to force anything on you.”

“So…we were together,” Eddie says slowly. “For how long?”

“Since July.” Steve’s desperately searching Eddie’s face for something, anything, to clue him in to what Eddie’s thinking or feeling right now. “Are- are you freaked out? Because you look a little freaked out.”

“I’m not freaked out,” Eddie says, and it's almost convincing. “I'm just…processing.”

“Oh-kay…” Steve breathes out, leaning cautiously against the doorframe, still hovering by the exit just in case Eddie decides he doesn't want him there anymore once he's finished processing.

“I’ve, uh-” Eddie looks back down at the photo strip he holds in his hands and takes a breath. “I’ve been remembering some things, you know, little things - in dreams - about us. But I- I thought I just had a crush or something, because I thought if all of that was real, if we had really been that happy - that…in love - then you would've said something. You would've told me.”

When Eddie's eyes meet his again, Steve realizes he'd misread his expression before. Eddie's not freaked, he's upset, hurt, not because of what he's learned but because it was kept from him. Of all the worst-case scenarios Steve's spiraling mind had come up with over the past couple weeks, he had not considered this one. So preoccupied with his own angst over being forgotten and fear of being unwanted, Steve hadn't thought to consider that him hiding the true nature of their past might make Eddie feel unwanted too. That's the last thing Steve wants; the ache of that trumps any other ache he feels.

“Eddie, I’m sorry. I just- you didn't know me, and I panicked; I didn't think, or-or I thought too much, but I should've just told you.” Steve pushes off from the doorway and goes to sit beside Eddie, because he can't stand Eddie looking at him with those big doe eyes and not being close to him. He leaves a bit of space, barely holds himself back from taking hold of Eddie's hand. “Because it was real, all the things you've been remembering. It was real- it is real, and I’m so sorry I didn't tell you.”

Eddie is uncharacteristically quiet for a moment. His gaze flicks him up and down and across his face, and then Eddie grabs him, hands dropping the photo strip to instead clutch at Steve's cheek and jaw as he pulls him in and kisses him. As their lips slide together, familiar, the both of them sigh into the kiss. Steve feels a bursting in his heart, so similar to the way it felt the very first time they’d done this: the giddiness of reciprocation, the intuition that this is right.

When Eddie pulls back after a few long moments, something is changed, something returned. Steve watches Eddie’s eyes flutter open; and when they do, for the first time since he'd woken up in that hospital bed, Eddie sees him, knows him, loves him.

“How could I ever have forgotten that?” Eddie says, almost whispered, running his thumb across Steve's cheekbone. “How could I ever have forgotten you?”

Steve could cry. Tears made of relief and joy blur his vision, because Eddie is looking at him with all the tenderness he'd been missing these past weeks, the painful emptiness of before now filled. It's all back. His Eddie is back. Steve pitches forward and hugs him bodily. Eddie returns the embrace; Steve sinks into his arms and it feels like coming home.

He closes his misty eyes, buries his face in the crook of Eddie's neck and the tangles of his hair, and he breathes him in, clinging onto him like Eddie might just disappear if Steve ever let go. Eddie holds him just as close, one arm wrapped firm around Steve's waist while his other hand cradles the back of Steve's head and strokes his hair. Steve soaks in every touch, feels every place where they are pressed against each other, so warm and safe and loving after so long without it. He is whole again in the arms of the man he loves.

“I missed you,” Steve mutters, lips brushing against the skin of Eddie's neck as he speaks, muffled.

“I know, Stevie,” Eddie murmurs, “my Stevie, I’m so sorry.”

“S’okay. It wasn't your fault,” Steve mumbles, and he thinks maybe they both need to stop apologizing for this.

Eddie must think the same, because he says, “And it wasn't yours either,” like he knows every twisted, guilty thought that's been haunting Steve lately and he absolves him of them. He tugs gently at Steve’s hair to get him to lift his head and look him in the eyes. “You know that, right?”

“Yeah, I know,” Steve says quietly. Eddie reaches up to brush from his cheek a tear Steve didn't even know had fallen, and as he wipes it away he wipes away everything - all blame, all fear, all pain. Eddie had forgotten him, and it sucked, but now he remembers again, and none of that matters anymore. Steve hangs onto Eddie's wrist. “Just-” His voice rasps with emotion, making it rougher. “Don't you ever forget about me again.”

It's not a promise that can be made with any certainty - anything can happen at any time, just as unexpectedly as it had this time - but Steve doesn't need certainty, he just needs to hear the words, and Eddie gives that to him. “I won't, darling,” he vows, with gentle reassurance. “Never again.”

“Good,” Steve sighs, turning his head into Eddie's hand to press a kiss to the palm.

The last of his heavier emotions drain out of him then and now he can feel the joy of Eddie's return in its whole entirety. As he rolls his face out of Eddie's hand and settles his eyes on the beautiful boy in front of him, a grin begins to spread across Steve's face; Eddie's smile grows in tandem with his, like he's smiling just because Steve is. Steve says, giddy in full now, “You're back.”

“Yeah,” Eddie says, lovely and bright, ducking to bump his forehead against Steve's. “I'm back.”

Steve lets go of Eddie's wrist to tangle a hand in his hair, and he tilts his head up to kiss him again, just because he can, because he's making up for lost time. They draw each other in close once more, lips and bodies moving against each other, easy and natural. Steve could stay right here like this forever, never wants to stop holding him or stop kissing him.

But a thought - a question - tickles at the base of Steve's skull, and when he does pull back he asks, hopeless romantic that he is, “Just in case - I mean, just so I know - what was it that brought your memory back? Was it like a…true love’s kiss breaking the spell sort of thing?”

Eddie laughs, gives Steve another quick peck like he always does when Steve says something endearing. “Not quite, Prince Charming,” he responds with a grin so fond Steve thinks his heart might burst. “It was more like…the things I had remembered were just dreams to me, shallow and unreal, but kissing you was like an anchor, a reminder that allowed those dreams to sink in as proper memories and become real.”

“So…basically it was true love’s kiss,” Steve says cheekily, just to hear Eddie’s laugh again, just to receive another affectionate press of Eddie's lips against his.

“Yeah, sure,” Eddie concedes, smilingly, never one not to indulge whimsy, “we can call it that.” But then he amends, with a little less levity, “It wasn't exactly a magic cure-all, though. It didn't bring everything back, there are still gaps in my memory.” He looks at Steve with eyes like pools of melted chocolate, soft and endless. “But I remember that I love you; I remember that much.”

And Steve tells him, “That's enough," and he pulls him in for another true love's kiss.

THE END. taglist: @romanticdestruction @daydreamsandcrashingwaves @paintsplatteredandimperfect @hallucinatedjosten @mugloversonly @estrellami-1 @alongcomesaspider @thatonebadideapanda @tell-me-a-secret-a-nice-one @dragonmama76 @wxrmland @nuggies4life @sirsnacksalot @myguiltyartpleasure @lolawonsstuff @marklee-blackmore @vinteraltus @sebastiansstanswhore @0happyeverafter0 @scarlet-malfoy @hotluncheddie @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @emsgoodthinkin @alyelf @warlordess @stevesbipanic @lil-gremlin-things @rockandrolodex @badcaseofcasey @bat-outta-hel @fandomcartographer @manda-panda-monium @littlewildflowerkitten @giopandaonice @mightbeasleep @queenie-ofthe-void @krazyperson @worldofshea @marvel-ous-m @tartarusknight @a-little-unsteddie @xenon-demon @goodolefashionedloverboi @xxsky-shockxx @mc-i-r @bookbinderbitch @aspenshade88 @slowandsteddie @thedragonsaunt @daydreaming-mood @space-invading-pigeon @irregular-child @a-lovely-craziness (continued in replies)

#and that's all folks!#endings are so hard for me but i hope you guys like this one #huge huge thank you to everyone who's followed along; all the love and support on this has been insane and i am so grateful <3 #steddie #steddie fic #steddie fanfiction #steddie fanfic #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #fanfic #mine #dyfamsteddiefic

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koqabear · 10 months

Text

「 Camera Shy 」

♫: Automatic, Red Velvet // Movie Star, CIX // Color Me, JUNNY // Kitty Cat, KISS OF LIFE

“You’ve always tried to live an honest and responsible life; never spending money on anything ridiculous, scoffing at the things other people would be so willing to drop their paycheck on. But when life gets hard, you’re bound to give into your guilty pleasures, right?”

camboy!Beomgyu x fem!reader

Genre: f2l, smut, pw/minimal plot

Word count: 14.4K (there’s like three different smut scenes here)

Warnings: gyu has a thing for glasses idk don’t question me, (mc wears glasses, not necessarily prescription), gyu is lowkey manipulative if u squint, slight possessiveness on his part? nothing toxic (i think), alcohol consumption, gyu has a tattoo..

smut warnings: gyu is a bit of a perv! mean dom!Beomgyu, sub!mc, masturbation (f&m), filmed sex, (consensual), dirty talk, degrading, use of toys (f&m rec.), exhibitionism, voyeurism technically, bit of a voice/hand kink? slight humiliation kink, mentions of safe words & subspace, mentions of squirting lmao, manhandling, spanking, pet names (princess, baby, etc.), fingering, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, marking, dry humping, handcuffing, biting, unprotected sex, dumbification, dacryphilia, creampie (lmk if i should add anything!)

Notes: lemme tell you. i wrote abt the tattoo before i stumbled upon that pic, when i tell you i was just ??? barely proof-read heehee. the thought of this au hit me like a that-so-raven vision, and I literally spent the whole day making sure I could finish this. enjoy bc i love camboy aus sm. (oh and pls, do me a favor and reblog— i have an ominous feeling about what’ll happen to this fic once i post it.)

Beomgyu has always found the idea of his work a bit ridiculous.

Day by day, he’s a normal college student— he spends his early mornings in classes, taking all the morning slots everyone was always reluctant to enroll in before he went off to work; he was known as that cute server amongst the women that visited the restaurant he worked at, able to upsell and gain tips with ease as he quickly became a favorite amongst his coworkers.

He liked the attention— of course he did, he needed to in order to thrive in the field of his actual job, his hours at the restaurant nothing but a side hustle compared to the hundreds he could make of a single stream.

Those hundreds could always breach into the thousands— but those were on especially good days, like his annual Valentine’s Day stream he always held for his lonely, single viewers.

Beomgyu was quite the sweet talker— he got the practice from his day-to-day shifts, watching girls his age and older fawn at his words and flutter their eyes playfully. It was clear they enjoyed the attention just as much as he did, a cute smile on his face as he faked a shy laugh whenever they would compliment him.

Your hair looks really nice today. You smell amazing. Do you work out? You have a really nice voice.

He got that last compliment a lot.

“Do I?” he would purr, a sultry smile crawling on his face each time, like a practiced action as he would tilt his head teasingly— the reaction would be positive each time, without fail, and he would always end up with a collection of napkins with scrawled phone numbers every time he would clock out— his coworkers would poke fun at him every time they watched him dump them all out apathetically.

You weren’t into that one person? Dude, the lady at table seven was so fucking hot.

Beomgyu never really paid mind to their teasing— he could care less for the men and women that tried to butter him up during his shifts, forced to act as though their shameless flirting didn’t make his stomach twist unpleasantly— instead, he would be forced to smile, laughing sheepishly before he would slip away with one last comment.

“I’m flattered, really— but, I have someone I’m interested in.”

That someone was you— the pretty girl that sat across from him during his ten am lecture, finding himself spacing out every time and staring off into your direction; though you never seemed to notice, much too caught up in taking notes as he watched the way your brows would furrow, biting at your lip and adjusting your glasses as you remained focused— whether those glasses were for reading, blue light, prescription, or even decoration, he didn’t care— all he cared about was how unnecessarily attractive you looked in them.

He thought about you more than he liked to admit— it was frustrating at first, his thoughts starting as nothing more than puppy love to something worse— it was only after you piqued his interest that he began streaming more.

This was both a good and bad thing; good because, well, he began to climb the ranks of popularity and earn more, but bad because he would find himself thinking of you. Each. And every. Time.

“Wish I could fuck you,” he would sigh out, his comments going too fast for him to keep up with as his eyes fluttered shut; leaning back against his headboard, he shifts, making sure everything but his lips remain out of frame before he’s back to closing his eyes, “would you let me make you feel good? God, I’d do anything just to feel you, taste you…”

As far as his audience knows, he’s speaking to them— the comments grow wild and tips flood in, all asking him to stop being a tease as they watch the way he palms himself through his sweatpants; grabbing at his length, stroking it slowly as he lets his imagination run wild.

He’s not wearing boxers; Beomgyu knows it drives his viewers mad, able to see as a wet spot begins to form on the light material, his tip leaking furiously as his other hand tugs the hem of his sweater over his chest— his vision is hazy as he reads the requests, laughing softly as he allows his fingers to trace along his chest absentmindedly— tracing over the muscle of his abdomen, circling his nipples slowly as he reads a comment under his breath.

Stop teasing and hurry up already !! >///<

The comment has him rolling his eyes— yet his usual tippers begin to request the same thing, and his hand is slowly tugging at the tied strings of his pants as he smiles, mocking and mean as he bites his lip.

“Hurry up? You want to command me while you’re over here throwing money at me like a whore? All just to watch me fuck myself, dreaming that it could be you?”

The comments start speeding up; it’s all a blur to him, but the sound of money coming in is enough to tell him that his usual audience is active again.

“Pathetic,” he sighs, his voice deep and grumbly as he reads over the requests that come in with the money: yes, i wish it were me there… please, can we see your cock?

“Desperate little sluts,” Beomgyu hums, tugging his waistband down and allowing his cock to spring up; it smacks against his stomach, and though the people in his comments attempt to regain his attention with dirty words and useless requests, he knows it’s all because of you— guiltily, he finds his thoughts straying the moment his hand wraps around his cock.

His streams have a certain formula to them; the more money, the better the show. Which is exactly why he ends up kneeling in front of the camera, fucking his cock into a clear flashlight as he listens to the sounds of tips coming in left and right— but his eyes remained shut, spilling enough filth to have his audience satisfied as he allows to let his imagination run wild.

In every stream, he cums to the thought of you; he has to bite his lip to not moan out your name like a pathetic bitch in heat, flooding his fleshlight with cum and continuing to fuck into it until his next orgasm.

In every stream, he finds himself thinking the same thought at least once— do you watch his streams?

»»»

The concept of camboys is ridiculous to you.

Why in the world would you spend all your money and emotions on a single person, when you can just go on Twitter and find the next best account that has yet to be suspended? Well, it’s not as though you find the idea of sex work appalling, but you don’t think you’d ever feel good about yourself spending a hard-earned paycheck because you were horny.

You’re not stupid; you know sex workers make bank, and you know that there are people in the world that love emptying out their bank accounts to such workers; whether it’s due to a kink or to feed into their parasocial relationship, you’re not sure.

You find that a good session on Twitter and your fingers usually does the trick— maybe a toy or two, if you find yourself feeling that needy.

Today’s session quickly becomes both disappointing and humbling; every account you try to look for has either been suspended or deleted, and every video you come across is something that’s not to your taste or something you’ve seen many, many times.

You feel weak as you come across the same account again; guiltypleasures— and he’s damn right, because you’re unable to resist the urge to click on his icon, feeling your thighs rub together with impatience as you sit back in bed— scrolling through, you’re surprised to see that he’s posted another video— without a second thought, you’re watching it.

“Fucking pathetic,” he sighs out, the familiar growled phrase making you gulp; you never found yourself to be too attracted to men who are extremely dominating and mean, but the man on your screen is somehow able to make it work as you find yourself getting wetter, “are you touching yourself right now? Don’t you wish I was there with you?”

And shit, you think you know why he’s able to make you come back to him every time, even if he’s posted nothing new and you’re forced to rewatch old videos most of the time; maybe it’s because of his hands, delicate and thin as they wrap around his favorite pocket pussy, or maybe it’s the way he slowly fucks into the said toy; stretching it out, his tip poking out and oozing enough cum that you can hear the wet squelching sounds that come from every thrust.

Or maybe, it’s his voice, deep and breathy and addicting as he mumbles out filthy things like it’s the only thing he knew how to do; his lips are red and swollen as he groans, hissing through his teeth as you watch the way his hands tighten around his toy.

“Shit, I’d fuck you so good,” he sighs out, hips rutting into the toy in his hands as he laughs; his head tilts, and though you’re only able to see his lips, you know his eyes are teasing as he looks into the camera, “fuck you so that you’d never want anyone else but me.”

His thrusts are picking up— you didn’t even realize the moment you began touching yourself, embarrassing whimpers and breaths falling from your lips as you keep your eyes honed in on his motions; you’re close, so close, your ministration speeding up as you fight to keep your eyes open.

“You’d be my good little cumdump, just for me to use— right?”

The video ends shortly after.

God damn it! your mind screams, the sudden cut-off catching you so off guard that you completely ruined your orgasm; you feel insanely embarrassed by how frustrated you feel, not realizing how short the clip he posted was until now. Clicking away, you feel as though your mood is ruined as you read the contents of his tweet.

A small clip from the stream. Watch the rest here: https://…..

Shit. Of course he would be a camboy. How did you not realize this sooner?

Honestly, if you sounded like that, you would be one too— and frustratingly enough, the brief cutoff is a damn good marketing strategy, because after a moment of thought, you’re clicking on the link.

You could just rewatch the video— you could also just go rewatch his previous videos, or even use your imagination to help you finish— but the idea of doing so is much more unpleasant than usual. (And humiliating, because you’ve found with horror that you’ve begun to memorize how his previous, equally as short, clips go.)

Your resolve begins to weaken the moment you click on his page— because of course, everything costs money— It costs to see his previous streams, costs to message him, and costs to get a fucking membership.

Who is paying for all this?!

You, apparently— because after some serious, slightly horny-impaired thought, you decide that getting a low-tier membership wouldn’t be too bad, right?

The cost is monthly (because of course it is, this website seems to want to charge you for just looking at his page) and you wince slightly as you watch your transaction go through.

Once you see the notification of your purchase pop up on your phone, you feel dreadfully sobered.

Because shit, being a low-tier subscriber only gets you a part of his most recent streams— about less than half of it, you notice— only able to get full access to streams prior to this month. It’s enough for now, but you can’t help but feel as though you’ve become the very thing you’ve despised as you lay back in your bed, staring at your ceiling for a moment before you’re sighing.

You’re still horny.

»»»

You think you can get behind the whole camboy thing. One may say you’ve been swayed, and quite honestly, you don’t think you could dispel such claims at this point.

Because it’s been a few months, and you’ve managed to stay through the whole thing. You’re surprised that you’ve begun to keep his streaming times in mind as you go about your day, ending your study sessions early or wondering if you’ll get home from work in time to watch his streams.

You always do. Maybe it’s a deity above making sure you get your money’s worth, or maybe it’s the fact that guiltypleasures is a human too, with a normal life and better shit to do than sit in front of a camera and jerk off all day.

The idea of following in his footsteps has crossed your mind more often than you expected; anything would be better than being a hostess at this god-awful job you have, forced to sit through the way people take out their anger on you and proceed to flirt with the servers— one of those servers being Beomgyu.

You were able to realize how popular Beomgyu was after your second shift— it didn’t take a genius to figure out why as you were left to deal with the way women of your age and older (mostly older. So many older women.) would creep up to you shyly, putting up a front of innocence as they asked you is Beomgyu here today? Could we sit in his area, please?

Seeing him rack up tips after a busy shift is always enough to have you wondering if you should switch to being a server— but then you see the way the women are treated, your stomach flipping in disgust at the way men leer and comment at them— you’ve even seen Beomgyu get cursed at plenty of times as well, shivering at the jealous partners and the way they’ve been blacklisted for threatening him.

Tonight is one of those nights. You’ve clocked out, shrugging on your jacket and gathering your belongings when you see Beomgyu storm in through the employee entrance; you don’t think you’ve ever seen him angry, but the sight has your eyes widening as you watch the way he frowns at his uniform, cursing angrily under his breath as he approaches the break table you stand by.

“Fuck,” he hisses, low and breathy and mean as he continues complaining, berating the customer that had the audacity to throw their drink at him— but you, in your very depraved state, remain stuck on the way he sounds, his voice far too attractive for a person who is spouting out filth.

This feels familiar.

“Hey, you okay?” you ask softly, feeling awkward as you mentally slap yourself for your train of thought; it seems as though Beomgyu hadn’t even realized you were there, his head snapping up as he stares at you like a deer caught in headlights— his mood is immediately shifting as he sends you a sweet smile, acting as though his clothes aren’t soaked as he waves you off causally.

“Yeah. Just some ridiculous customers,” he says, laughing softly as he grabs at a pile of napkins on the table; you wince as you watch him scrub roughly at the stains, unable to stop yourself as you jump to his aide.

“Here, you’ll only get the stains in deeper if you do that,” you say, taking the napkin from his hands as you begin to dab at his uniform without much thought; you’re much closer than you should be to someone you’ve never really talked to, but you don’t seem to realize it as Beomgyu practically forgets to breathe from your proximity.

Shit, how did he find himself in this situation? He might as well go back out and thank the jealous, “tough guy” boyfriend that threw his drink at Beomgyu, because he feels as though every guilty fantasy is coming back to mind as he takes in your concentrated expression, your hand placed firmly on his chest for support as the other dabs at the stains in his uniform.

You smell so good. Even though you’ve been in the restaurant just as long as him and have been around food this whole time, he’s still able to pick up on your scent with every shaky breath he takes.

You’re wearing your glasses, too.

Beomgyu’s mind is wandering off to dangerous places; he knows he needs to get himself under control, because the danger of him popping a boner just from how close you are is a higher probability than he’d like to admit. It seems as though you’re snapping out of your trance the moment he clears his throat, your face growing hot and slightly horrified as you jump back; Beomgyu can’t help the smile that tugs at his lips at the sight, finding your embarrassment oddly endearing.

“Sorry, got carried away,” you say, smiling shakily as you take in the way Beomgyu practically beams at you— always a sweet, nice guy, waving you off without a problem as he laughs softly.

“No, it seems to have helped,” he says, and you can’t help but notice how oddly charismatic he is even now, during this mundane interaction that has you stuttering over your words stupidly— but to be fair, how are you supposed to give him advice on how to get the stains out when he’s looking at you with the cutest god damn puppy eyes you’ve ever seen, his brown eyes round and sparkly as he listens intently to every word you say?

“I wouldn’t have thought to do that,” he smiles, his cheeks puffing up cutely and oh, is it weird that you want to coo at how cute he is and pinch his cheeks…?

Definitely weird, you decide, letting out a soft laugh as he tells you that he’ll try it as soon as he gets home.

“Speaking of which, I’ll let you go; you probably don’t want to be here longer than necessary,” Beomgyu is so kind and considerate even as you tell him it’s fine and that you didn’t have any plans after work anyway.

“I’ll let you get back to work,” you can’t help the soft laugh that escapes you as Beomgyu asks you to wish him luck, the smile he sports coy as you follow his command without any hesitation— you take this as your chance to leave before things get awkward, but a part of you itches to go back and talk to him more.

Beomgyu’s good, you realize as you’re exiting the building, a bewildered laugh escaping you as you realize that he managed to charm you just from that short interaction.

You get why he’s so popular.

»»»

Any plans to go to bed early and rest are immediately thrown out the minute your phone buzzes beside you.

You were just about to put your laptop away— just on the verge of falling asleep, until your eyes reluctantly drifted to read the words that take over your screen— it’s a Twitter notification, the username making your eyes widen as you’re scrambling to unlock your phone and read the rest.

guiltypleasures

had a shitty shift today, let me take it out on you? https://…….

Oh. oh, oh lord… you can feel the exhaustion lifted off in an instant; suddenly, you’re wide awake, eyes widening as you quickly copy the link of his tweet into your browser— while your mind scolds you for trying to stay up and possibly ruining your sleep schedule, the other, much more sinister part of it tells you that you’re paying for a reason.

The stream starts in five minutes.

While you wait anxiously in your room, your hands swiftly going to your nightstand to take out some toys— your trusty vibrator and a dildo you recently bought, all because of him— Beomgyu paces around his setup, gathering his own toys and changing into something that the viewers might like; today's ensemble is a bit more bothersome than usual, but he knows how much his viewers like when he dresses up and role plays a bit with them.

He was tired; today's shift took a toll on him, and he’d rather be fast asleep than putting on a stream— but after looking at today's earnings, he couldn’t help but feel unsatisfied with it all, deciding on impulse that he would put on a stream to make up for his lack of tips— instead, he’ll earn tips in another way.

“Hey,” he starts quietly, sitting back in his seat as he takes a glance at his monitor, making sure his face is out of frame. The viewer count rises and comments flood in no time, all of them freaking out about how good he looks in the suit he wears; the all-black ensemble feels stifling to him, but he knows taking it off will be worth it in the end.

Bad day today? Let us make you feel better :(

His top tippers are all begging for his attention, desperate and needy as always as they beg for him to get started— but he feels a lot more sluggish than usual, his gloved hands caressing his thighs slowly as he reads the comments out loud.

“Yeah, today’s shift wasn’t that great,” he speaks, his voice deep and sultry as he allows a moment to pass, reading all the comments that beg for him to use them, “I only thought about you though. Just wanted to see you.”

There he goes again— he’s no longer talking to his audience, but to you instead, closing his eyes and imagining a world where you’re in front of him, or even on the other side of this screen, one of the many faces that lusts over the way his cock begins to harden, the bulge becoming much more apparent as he lets his mind wander.

Unbeknownst to him, you are on the other side of your screen; a shy and flustered mess as you shift in your bed, watching the comments fly by as you wonder if you should join in— not that you could, anyway, your low-tier subscription excluding you from doing such things, as ridiculous as it is.

You’re practically devouring the man on your screen with your eyes; taking in the way he’s dressed, his pretty hands covered with leather gloves as he runs them slowly over his black trousers; stopping as they run back to his hips, a hand beginning to palm at his bulge as he spreads his legs a little wider in his chair— today's setup is a bit different, along with his attitude as he seems to sweet talk the audience more than usual.

“Seeing you is the only good part of my day,” he sighed, his free hand trailing up his chest before it stops at his tie— he’s tugging at it, loosening it and allowing it to hang around his neck as he continues, “Can’t stop thinking about how much I want you, how I’d fuck you until all you can remember is my name.”

The offer is tempting; you groan a little as you watch him begin to slide off his blazer, throwing it to the side before he’s unbuttoning his white shirt— he’s making quick work to become undressed, you notice, untucking the material and undoing his belt as the sounds of it jingling ring out in the room.

Yet, no one knows his name— no one knows anything about him, except the tattoo that runs across his side as he slides off his shirt, the sharp, elegant lines running all along his ribs, trailing down to his hip bones and disappearing under his pants— the rest of him remaining a mystery as you’re left to lust over a nameless, faceless stranger.

That’s probably where the appeal comes from; you’re able to imagine anything about him, from what his face looks like to what he may do when the cameras are off; you’re free to mold him into the perfect fantasy, using him and projecting onto him as you watch him slowly unzip his pants, a hand slipping under as he begins to jerk himself off teasingly, slow as always as he waits for the requests to come in— like clockwork, your eyes fall to the end of his tattoo, taking in the cute heart that rests by his hip bone, the ending of the elaborate piece that always has you wondering what it’d be like to see in person.

“Hmm? You want more?” he says, tilting his head slightly as he smiles; it’s mocking as always, biting into his lip as he begins to roll his hips into his hand— making a show out of it, throwing his head back and letting out a breathy moan that has you shivering.

“How about you show me just how much you want it,” he sighs out, smiling evilly as tips begin to come in left and right as a response; you find the way he’s able to manipulate the audience impressive, always able to get them to blow their money on him without hesitation.

He leans forward, towards the screen, and you’re able to admire his lips as he reads the comments, mouthing them as the lights cast a glow on his pretty, pouty mouth, his neck tempting and begging to be marked as you watch the way he displays it so teasingly.

“Good girl,” he laughs softly, your eyes flickering to the comment section for a moment; his top tipper has spent an egregious amount on him yet again, and you listen to the way he softly begins to fulfill her request, the rest of the audience momentarily disappearing as he begins to speak to her.

“Always such an obedient thing for me, hmm? Tell me, what do you want to see?”

His manipulation is seamless as he watches another tip flood in; all from the same person, the amount doubled in order to get his attention past all the others that blow a measly twenty on him, nothing compared to the three hundred that is highlighted in gold, the comment momentarily pinned for the man to read it.

I want you to fuck your favorite fleshlight and use a vibrator while you think of me. Can you moan my name please? It’s—

Her comment has your eyes widening for a second; it’s bold and demanding, and the idea of requesting such a thing from the camboy in front of you is daunting as you read her request over and over— your face feels hot and you’re already taking off your sweatpants from how needy you are, wondering if the man on your screen will accept such a request.

The first two are nothing to him— in fact, it’s more on the tamer side as he already finds himself reaching for the aforementioned toys.

The problem lies in the last request.

He’s not one to moan names on a live stream; he usually saves it for personal requests he gets, the videos much more personal and calculated as he gets to take his time with them— so for his top tipper to request such a thing on his livestream is a bit more difficult; especially when he spends this time thinking of you.

But then again, it’s three hundred dollars.

“Okay then, is that what you want? Hmm?” he teases softly, purring out her name at the end as he watches the way she tips him again; it has him laughing in amusement, sitting back in his chair before he’s crossing his arms over his chest, singing out her name with a soft lilt as he watches the way she continues to pour money at him like it’s nothing.

Soon enough, more requests come in; all with the same amount and request, hoping that they’ll be able to hear their names fall from his lips as he slowly begins to tug down his pants, raising his hips as he’s left in nothing but his underwear, the briefs straining painfully as his cock twitches, begging to be free.

“One at a time,” he murmurs sweetly, patronizing as he mumbles that it’s her turn now, watching the way she seems to react with every purr of her name.

The sudden trend of requests makes his stream slightly difficult; he’s always found himself to be a lot more into them when he’s mentally moaning out your name, lips ghosting over the syllables every time he’s coming undone. Instead, he’s forced to moan out the name of a stranger as he begins to palm himself slowly, even though his mind thinks back to you and the small interaction you had today.

He feels his cock twitch at the mere thought. It’s painfully hard and won’t stop leaking as he takes it out, not needing to use any lubricant as he begins stroking it slowly, hips jumping at the feeling of the leather against his skin— and though his lips moan another’s name, his eyes remain closed, thinking about you.

You and your meek personality, always letting guests take out their anger on you before they’re turning around and sucking up to Beomgyu— he’s always had to resist the urge to fuck them up as a response, knowing that you think no one else notices your sullied mood and your crestfallen gaze every time they seem to get away with it.

He’s never free to comfort you. You’re both far too busy to be around each other for longer than a few minutes, and today was like a blessing as he caught you at just the right time— he would have stayed the rest of his shift back there talking to you, if only he hadn’t been playing the part of a sweet, considerate guy.

He thinks back to how you felt against him. How, even though your actions were innocent and you were much more focused on taking out the stain of his uniform, he still felt the warmth of your hand against his chest, delicate and smaller than his as you leaned in close enough to allow himself to get a whiff of your sweet scent.

And those glasses.

He never thought he would find himself hung up on such an item, but the way they make your eyes look big and sparkly is practically enough to make him cum on the spot. Instead, he grabs a hold of his newest fleshlight, soft and tight, just how he imagines you would be.

It’s perverted, but as he slides his cock into the tight sleeve, groaning slightly at how he’s barely able to push through, he imagines that it’s you. His mind begins to wonder what it would be like if you were above him right now, your thighs encasing his and your pussy leaking onto his cock as he fucked into you without abandon.

As he turns on his vibrator, running it along his balls and letting out pathetic moans, he imagines what it would be like to use it on you while he fucked you, imagining the way your tits would bounce and your eyes would squeeze shut as he made you cum until you were unable to hold yourself up.

On the other side of the screen, you imagine the same thing. Your legs are shaking and you’re fighting to keep your eyes open as you follow the pace he’s set, pressing your vibrator firmly against your clit and letting out weak whimpers at the sensation. You try to ignore the way he calls out the same name over and over, wondering instead what it would be like to hear your name from his lips— the sound is ringing throughout your mind the moment you imagine it, burying your face into your pillow as you increase the intensity of your toy.

“Let me fill you up, want you dripping with my cum,” he growls out, the sloppy sounds of his thrusts only spurring you on as your thighs close around your hand, hips grinding into your dildo as you sink your teeth into your lip ruthlessly— it’s almost enough to draw blood as you watch the way he cums into his toy, hips continuing to rut into the it even long after he’s come, a white ring forming at the base as he turns the vibrator off from the overstimulation.

“_— Shit,” Beomgyu almost slipped up for a second, proceeding to moan out his requested name repeatedly as a distraction.

And you know you’re imagining it, but you’re briefly coming undone after that, your pussy tightening against your dildo and your legs shaking as you run your vibrator along your clit, imagining that it’s him inside you, that he’s currently spilling his load in your cunt— your mind swearing that you almost heard your name slip from his lips for a second— and it isn’t until you recover from your orgasm, the sound of another name leaving his lips repeatedly making you come to, that you realize it was your brain playing trick on you to help you get off.

But you weren’t imagining things.

Beomgyu hopes his audience didn’t pick up on his small mistake, but he’s relieved to see that they’re none the wiser as they continue to request to hear their name next.

“Let’s see…” he says, and you’re barely able to keep your eyes open as you watch the way he leans towards the camera again, reading requests off the monitor as he grinds his hips into his toy absentmindedly throughout it.

He’s barely getting started.

In turn, so are you.

»»»

Beomgyu is the sweetest guy you’ve ever met.

After your brief conversation at the restaurant, you quickly found yourself talking to him more often.

It turned into him sitting next to you during the one class you shared, your friendship growing stronger day by day as you got to know him better.

He acts like a puppy; he’s so sweet and kind, his voice soft and endearing every time he spoke to you— and, like a stark contrast to the flirty and outgoing guy you saw during your shifts at the restaurant, he was very shy, ever the gentleman as he always treated you with nothing but kindness.

“Good morning,” Beomgyu hums, sitting in the seat next to yours before he’s placing down a cup of coffee, “I got this for you. I already finished mine, but I thought you might like some too.”

Sweet gestures like these were common with him; despite your insistence that he really didn’t need to, he always did it anyway, ever the charming man as he sent you a cute smile that would have you unable to say no.

“Hey, I heard you’re friends with Yeonjun?” you ask, reluctantly accepting the drink after he insisted that you didn’t need to feel bad; your lips are curving into a small smile as you take a drink, stomach flipping at the realization that it was your usual order— you’re surprised he was able to remember it after the first time you got coffee together.

Beomgyu nods in confirmation. You’re a bit surprised by his answer, unable to see the two be friends due to their contrasting personalities. You can tell that he’s curious as to why you’re asking as he pouts slightly— a habit he always does when he’s confused— and you’re quick to swallow down your drink and give him context.

“He’s having a party this weekend. I was wondering if you’re going?” you say, and Beomgyu feels his stomach drop slightly; not because you were going— well, not entirely, at least— but because if you were going, you’d definitely end up seeing a different side of him. And after seeing how fond you are of his puppy-like behavior, he dreads seeing your reaction to a much more reckless side of him.

“I… think so,” he says sheepishly, wondering what kind of excuse he should make to not go— but he pauses, seeing the way you pout at him, grabbing his arm desperately as you lean into him as you plead.

“You should go— pleeeasee? Yeonjun’s parties are super over the top and he always invites hella people, I don’t wanna be there alone.”

You have this man wrapped around your finger; with one look at your face, your gaze sweet and pleading as you cutely pout at him expectantly, he finds himself agreeing, unable to fight back a smile as he watches the way you cheer triumphantly, quieting down the moment the lecture starts.

Beomgyu will definitely have to be careful this weekend— but seeing you will be worth it, even if he’s risking the chance of potentially changing the way you’ll view him forever.

»»»

You have yet to see Beomgyu.

The party started hours ago, yet you’ve only been present for a few as you’ve already both greeted and lost Yeonjun, forced to mingle with people you barely know as you all hang out in his backyard— because lord knows how packed and stuffy the place would’ve been if he held it inside.

You currently find yourself playing cup pong, teaming with the girl in your communications class as you go against two strangers— Yunjin is much friendlier and outgoing when she’s drunk, cheering you on and yelling triumphantly with every ball you get in— you’ve barely had anything to drink as a result, and Yunjin is eager to fix that as she hands you a small shot cup; you’re hesitant at first, only accepting it after she explains that it isn’t strong at all, the soju mixed in with other things as she tells you you’ll barely feel it.

It’s not that you’re a lightweight that would get drunk off one shot, but you’d rather not get shit-faced when you have yet to find Beomgyu; your eyes scan over the place once more after you take the shot, Yunjin’s cheers falling deaf onto your ears as you allow the team in front of you have their turn.

“Drinking already?”

Beomgyu has snuck up on you successfully— you’re flinching in surprise as you feel his hand fall gently on the small of your back, leaning in close so he’s properly able to speak to you over the music.

Beomgyu feels as though looking at you is a sin; he’s forcing himself to keep his eyes off you, listening to the way you ramble into his ear about how happy you are to see him, your head tilting back and exposing the column of your neck to him to get him to hear you.

“You’re not wearing your glasses,” he comments, oddly hung up on it as he watches the way your smile only widens.

“Yeah, didn’t feel like it,” you say lightheartedly, leaning back against Beomgyu and finding comfort in the position that allows the two of you to speak over the booming music.

Unbeknownst to you, he takes this moment to drink in your appearance. The white, oversized button-up you wear is left completely open as it drapes over your figure, the light blue denim shorts entirely too tempting as they ride up your thighs, much too short to even cover you properly— but of course, that’s the look you were going for, leaving your bottoms unbuttoned and folded down as you allow your bikini to peek through— the color is flattering on your skin, and Beomgyu wonders if he’ll be strong enough to resist you, eyes flickering over to the pool that’s filled with plenty of people as a distraction.

“You wanna go in?” you ask, and Beomgyu realizes you’ve followed his line of sight, shaking his head quickly in response. You laugh, turning around briefly as you listen to the sounds of Yunjin telling you that you have to drink— you freely down the shot in the plastic cup this time, much more at ease now that Beomgyu is around— and turn back to him, pulling at his shirt slightly as you take in his attire.

“Come on, you’re definitely dressed for the part!”

And that much was true— though he realized halfway through his drive here that doing so would not be a good idea, especially if he wanted to keep up this cute, innocent act of his.

“It’s too full right now,” he says, his excuse valid as you study the pool for a moment— only to agree, turning back to the game as you tell Beomgyu to cheer for you with a cheeky smile.

It doesn’t take much longer for you to get tipsy— all because you made the mistake of trusting Yunjin to play properly during her turn, missing entirely and proceeding to get the two of you obliterated after she went against one of the guys on the opposite team (Jake, he later told you.)— but you’re quick to make sure to bring Beomgyu down with you, handing him every other shot you get as you tell him he’s now on your team.

What you don’t seem to realize is that Beomgyu is not a lightweight— far from it, watching with amusement as you slowly begin to get tipsy, your mouth loosening and your personality becoming much more outgoing after losing the game to Jake and his friend— three times in a row.

“Again?” you ask, laughing at the way Yunjin yells in agreement— Beomgyu has to tug on your shirt to get you away, telling you that it’s definitely not a good idea to go again, especially with someone as uncoordinated as Yunjin.

“Why didn’t you play with me then?” you say, leaning against him as you smile up at him prettily; he’s leading you away from the table and towards the grass, over to where a small campfire is lit, plenty of chairs scattered about as the music becomes louder in this area.

“You don’t like games?” you ask him, stumbling to a stop and tugging at his shirt to stop with you, just so he’s able to hear you better. Coyly, you smile, your eyes twinkling mischievously as you lean in to speak to him quietly, “Don’t you wanna play with me?”

Your words are fairly innocent— but your delivery is not, and it has Beomgyu sputtering in surprise as he wonders how he should respond to such a random advance— though he doesn’t need to in the end, watching as you break character and laugh at your own antics, perking up immediately as you listen to the song that’s playing.

“Oh, I love this song!”

You’re dancing carelessly to the song without a second thought, pulling Beomgyu in and laughing at the way he seems reluctant to let loose; it’s probably the alcohol in your system that’s making you act like such an idiot, leaning against him and smiling at the way he seems adamant to avoid your gaze.

“You know, I just realized that we’re matching!” you laugh, tugging at the collar of his white button-up before you’re glancing down; it’s tucked neatly into his denim shorts, and your smile is only growing wider as you look back up at him, “we look like a couple or something.”

Your words affect him much more than he’d like to admit— but he has no time to dwell on it, eyes looking past you and at Yeonjun, who walks straight toward the two of you with a grin stuck on his face.

“Hey, why didn’t you tell me you were here?” Yeonjun yells, grabbing your attention as you’re turning to greet Yeonjun; you’re bubbly and seem to find everything funny as you giggle slightly, waving at him happily before you’re stepping away from Beomgyu.

“I couldn’t find you,” Beomgyu mumbles, watching the way Yeonjun slings an arm around your shoulders casually— he feels oddly angered at the sight, unsure why it irritates him so much to see the two of you act so close.

“Didn’t know you two were friends,” Yeonjun says, and he watches as you begin to ramble about your history with Beomgyu with a small smile— scanning your outfit, he frowns.

“You haven’t gotten in the pool yet?” Yeonjun asks, raising a brow at your entirely dry figure; you shake your head, which only makes him tilt his head in confusion, “I thought you said that’s the only reason you were coming?”

“Well, I just haven’t gotten the chance to,” you say sheepishly, the shy smile on your face quickly turning to one of confusion the moment Yeonjun hugs you; he’s got you tight, and you’re stumbling along with him as you begin questioning what he’s doing, your eyes widening the moment you peek over his shoulder— you’re heading straight to the pool, the volume of your yells rising significantly as you begin to struggle against your friend, yelling at Beomgyu to come to your rescue.

(It’s all for dramatic effect. Yeonjun laughs at the way you pretend to struggle against him, and he pretends he doesn’t hear your laugh of joy the moment he falls over the edge, letting go of you in time and forcing the two of you into the water.)

You’re pleasantly surprised to find that the water isn’t freezing; you personally thank Yeonjun’s heating system as you come up for air, wiping at your face and adjusting your hair as you begin to splash Yeonjun, insulting him for being such a bully.

Your movements are immediately stopping the moment you spot Beomgyu at the edge— Yeonjun is quick to leave, sending you a small wink (the term “wink” used loosely) before he’s off to find his next target—he’s taken his shoes off and he looks more than ready to jump in, and you can’t help but laugh sweetly at his concern before you realize that you should probably take off your shoes as well.

“You okay?” He asks you, watching the way you cringe as you take off your shoes, tossing them over the edge and leaving them to dry as you swim to where he stands.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you smile, watching the way he seems hesitant to do anything— to get in or leave, you’re unsure. A second passes before an evil thought pops into your head, taking notice of your equally soaked clothes that remain stuck on your body.

“Oh. Hey, could you hold this?” you begin, shedding off your shirt before you’re bundling it into a ball, holding out the fabric for him— he crouches down, arm reaching out for your shirt— and you seize your moment, both hands grabbing onto him and tugging as hard as you can.

And Beomgyu, in his unguarded state, falls in immediately.

The laugh you let out is pure evil as you watch him fall in, flailing for a second before he’s coming up for air— and honestly, Beomgyu can’t even be mad, at least not when you’re laughing so hard, your face lit up as you take in the way his hair is completely flat on his head.

“Sorry. Couldn’t help it,” you say, but you don’t look sorry at all as you swim over to your shirt that’s now sunk into the bottom of the pool. You’re diving down to get it, quick to throw it over the edge and by your shoes before you’re tugging off your shorts. You’re glancing back at Beomgyu, relieved to see he doesn’t look angry at all, when you spot something peculiar.

“Woah, what’s that?” you ask, approaching Beomgyu eagerly as he’s quick to follow your gaze. His cheeks are on fire and his hands are quick to fly onto his ribs, turning away from your curious hands and even more curious gaze as he stutters out an excuse.

“It’s nothing.” That’s probably one of the lamest things Beomgyu has ever said, and you’re not believing him for a second as your eyes widen at his sudden change in behavior.

“Is it a tattoo?” you ask, trying to get a peek through the cracks of his fingers; but the water makes everything blurry, unable to get the details of it before you’re humming appreciatively. “Hmm. That’s cool— I didn’t know that was such a common spot to get tattooed.”

“Is it?” he asks, and suddenly, he doesn’t seem to want to hide it anymore. Your curious gaze and awed compliments have him smiling, raising a brow as he feels himself become more confident— the idea that you of all people would judge him seems ridiculous now.

“Who else do you know that has a tattoo here?” you’re late to process the question— only because your eyes are widening as he admits that it is a tattoo, the words flying out of your mouth before you can truly process if it’s a good idea.

“I don’t know. I’ve just seen it online, I guess.” Of course, this could mean many things— but it means one thing to you, and you’re practically biting your tongue from the sheer terror that you inadvertently admitted to a guilty, secret pleasure of yours.

“Online?” he asks, and you try to not look suspicious as you choose to simply remain quiet and nod.

“Yeah, like on Pinterest and stuff,” you add, hoping that it’s enough to prove your innocence (to yourself) as you watch Beomgyu nod along to your words.

“Aren’t your clothes weighing you down?” you ask, eyeing the way he’s barely moved with a small smile, “or like, are you not wearing anything underneath?”

Most of the people here came with their swimsuits underneath— some just opted to strip to their underwear, which is why you didn’t feel alarmed to find people stripping their layers in order to jump into the pool.

Though, now that you think about it, you feel a bit bad for forcing Beomgyu to get in without much of a warning. Your concerns are quickly soothed, however, when Beomgyu shakes his head, hands coming up to unbutton his shirt before he’s laughing softly at your words.

“I was wearing my shorts underneath these,” he confesses, your eyes widening as you find yourself going silent— because wow, was Beomgyu always this ripped?

You feel odd as you watch him strip, sliding off his shirt as most of his torso remains underwater; he’s slowly making his way to where you stand by the edge, and you can feel your heart stopping as you take in the look in his eyes.

Dark. Dangerous. Tempting. You think you’re imagining things as you look away, gulping heavily as you feel yourself sobering suddenly. He’s throwing his shirt in the direction that your pile of clothes lie, and you feel oddly embarrassed by the way you have to look away as he strips his bottoms off as well.

You’re only glancing back in time to see him hover out of the pool for a second, his upper body coming out of the water as he takes a moment to lay out both your clothing properly.

Holy shit.

Was it common for people to have the same tattoo? It surely was, right? Those are the only things that are going through your mind as you observe Beomgyu’s tattoo, taking in the familiarity of each line as your eyes drift down to his v-line— your eyes spot the small, perfect heart that rests right at his pubic bone.

Oh god. Oh god, oh god oh god, you think, trying your best to not lose your shit and melt in a puddle of horror and embarrassment as you realize that Beomgyu has the exact tattoo as guiltypleasures.

It had to be a popular tattoo. Or maybe it was a reference to something, or a drawing a tattoo artist put out to let other people use— anything, it had to be anything else than the conclusion your mind was terrified of making, meeting Beomgyu’s gaze shyly as you realize that he’s caught you staring, hard.

“It’s pretty,” you breathe out, unsure you can trust your voice as you watch Beomgyu sink back into the pool, “Is it… a reference to something?”

Please say yes. Please say yes.

“Thanks,” he starts, leaving you on edge as he takes a moment to inspect his tattoo— running his fingertips over it, tracing over the delicate lines in a way that has you gripping onto the edge of the pool, “and no, it’s not. I designed it myself.”

You’re gonna pass out.

“Really?” you grit out, hoping he can’t pick up on the tension of your voice as you smile, albeit forced, “Like, it’s one of a kind?”

“Yup,” he grins, staring down at his tattoo with a proud look on his face, “One of a kind. My tattoo artist didn’t even post it, upon my request.”

You’re gonna cry. Maybe you’ll scream, or even sink into the pool and try to drown yourself.

Because Choi Beomgyu, your closest friend for the past few months and the man you may or may have not been beginning to crush on, is guiltypleasures, the man you lust after every night and fucking pay to watch.

You know they say that quiet guys are the freakiest, but this is too fucking much.

“That’s so cool,” you say, sinking into the pool so the water is up to your mouth, hoping that you won’t blurt out any more stupidities as you stare off into the distance, attempting to let this new information settle in.

“Hey, you okay?” he asks, and you hate how attentive Beomgyu has become— even more because everything is starting to click, his husky and deep voice a replica of your stupid camboy’s, your body reacting involuntarily to the sound of it as you simply nod softly.

“Mhmm,” you hum out, coming out of the water a bit so you can speak, “I think those drinks from earlier fucked up my stomach— I should go home.”

“Oh,” Beomgyu says, and you feel awful for the way he’s become confused at your sudden shift in mood, “Are you sure you’ll be okay driving—?”

“I Ubered here,” you mumble, oddly embarrassed at your words, “cause I knew I’d probably drink a lot.”

“Well then let me take you home,” he insists, ever the gentleman as you try to say that he shouldn’t, that he should just stay and enjoy the party.

“It’s dangerous to call an Uber at this hour though,” he continues, his stupid fucking puppy eyes taking a toll on your resolve as you bite your lip, “Plus, I only really came to this party because of you.”

God, what the hell was this behavior?! This innocent, shy, and sweet Beomgyu was a complete one-eighty— scratch that— was an entirely different fucking person than the one that always talked down at you at night, spilling filth like it was in his nature and treating you like you were worthless.

It was a bit terrifying as you watched the way he remained entirely oblivious to the Earth-shattering realization, getting out of the pool and reaching out to help you out with a sweet smile.

After a second, you take it.

You feel so awkward as you gather your clothes; you’re jumpy and you’re sure Beomgyu has picked up on it as he eyes you from time to time, watching as you wring out your clothes as much as you can before you’re slipping on your shirt, your shorts left in your hand as you avoid Beomgyu’s eyes entirely.

“I have a few blankets in my car— you should use those to keep yourself warm,�� he says softly, looking back at you and frowning at the way you only nod with a tense smile.

Was he wrong about you? Were you lying when you reacted positively to his tattoo? Beomgyu has no idea why something as simple as a tattoo would change the way you treat him entirely, but he’s determined to get to the bottom of this as you enter his car, entirely stiff as you wrap one of his aforementioned blankets around yourself.

“Hey, did something happen tonight?” He asks you halfway through his drive, licking his lips nervously as he watches the way you jump in your seat, not expecting his question at all as you remain silent for a second.

“Uhm, no?” you say, though you seem unsure of your own answer as you wrap the blankets a little tighter around yourself, “I’m telling you, it was probably the drinks— I didn’t think my stomach would be so sensitive tonight.”

Your explanation is entirely plausible, but Beomgyu doesn’t believe it as he watches the way you remain tense, his car slowing to a stop as the two of you wait at the stoplight in an awkward silence.

“You’re lying,” Beomgyu says, deciding that it’s better to just be bold instead of tiptoeing around the subject, “Is it because of my tattoo?”

Your lips press together.

“It is,” he says, and he feels an unexpected wave of disappointment and anger wash over him, “did something that small put you off that much?”

“That’s not it,” you say, your heart pounding against your chest and your body heating up as you realize that you’ve upset him— and greatly, because you’re able to see the way his brows knit together and his hand tightens on the steering wheel as he begins to drive again.

Did he think you were judging him? That you thought less of him because of such a small thing?

“Then what is it?” he insists, and you’re mortified to see that you’re stuck in traffic, victim to Beomgyu’s sharp gaze that demands answers, “Cause you’ve been acting weird since I showed it to you.”

“I’ve seen it before,” you mutter quietly, sinking into your seat from the humiliation, “I recognized it. Your tattoo.”

Beomgyu pauses. Then he thinks of the many times he’s had his shirt ride up when he’s around you, from stretching to taking off his hoodie and having his undershirt get pulled up along with it.

“Okay?”

“Like. Online.”

That’s enough to leave him silent. Stupefied, even. One glance at you and your body language is enough to confirm that it’s exactly what he’s thinking, your posture so small that you look like you wish you could disappear.

“You’ve—“ he swallows, wondering what else to say as traffic begins moving again, “like… Twitter—?”

“Your streams.”

Fuck. Fuck, oh fuck, Beomgyu needs to get the fuck out of the car this instant, because his dick is already hardening and he can feel his brain short-circuiting at your words— you watch his streams.

In your mind, you feel as though you’ve completely dug a hole for yourself— Beomgyu is probably horrified at your confession, but it’s not as though you knew it was him, or that you had any malicious intent, or that—!

All Beomgyu can think of is how he shouldn’t park the car in the middle of the road and fuck you stupid.

“Did you watch them a lot?” he asks you, his voice eerily quiet and stable, and oh no he’s interrogating you right now, this is the end for you.

“Yeah,” you say, deciding to be completely transparent now that you’ve decided to tell the truth, “I’m sorry.”

Is it possible to come untouched like this? Beomgyu might just find out, because the way your voice is so meek and shy and guilty has him biting down on his lip, his mind growing foggier and his foot pressing down on the gas pedal a little harder as he begins to weave through lanes.

“You were a subscriber then,” he says calmly, and you feel as though he’s trying to humiliate you on purpose as you nod your head in admittance— unbeknownst to you, that’s exactly what he’s doing, enjoying the way he’s breaking you down from just a few questions with sick pleasure.

“How much money did you spend on me then?” You’re finding his line of questioning a bit odd at this point, but you refuse to look up from your lap as you find yourself answering anyways.

“I was just a low-tier subscriber…” you say, and it feels even more humiliating to admit that you cheaped out on him— what the hell was wrong with you?

“Low-tier? Not even a single tip?” he repeats, and you don’t seem to register the way he pouts at you until it’s far too late.

Stopping at a red light, he grabs your chin, turning your face roughly so you’re looking at him— and he’s back, the man behind the screen, except this time you can see the sheer pity that fills his gaze as he speaks to you as though you’re lower than him.

“How are you gonna make it up to me now?”

»»»

God. Fuck. Are you dreaming? You think you might pass out.

“I know, I know I said I wouldn’t stream tonight— shouldn’t you just be happy I’m here?”

Your stomach is twisted in knots and you feel small as you attempt to take in everything properly— Beomgyu’s setup, the same room you’ve seen countless times before— you’re able to see it all, from his large computer monitors, his filming camera, to his grandiose bed and the insane amount of toys he keeps on standby.

You shift restlessly on your feet, entirely bare save for a shirt that Beomgyu let you borrow— another white button-up, the very same one that he loved to wear when he dressed up, now hanging from your figure as he allowed the two of you to freshen up the moment you got to his home.

Nervously, you had left the shirt completely buttoned up; you watched from behind his camera as he continued to sweet talk his viewers, dressed comfortably in a sweater and sweats, his attire a complete contrast to your own.

“You’re happy to see me? I don’t believe you,” he smiles, and you feel as though you’re back to being a faceless member of his stream as you press your thighs together, able to hear the way notifications pop up on his computer, all of them signifying a new tip.

“You know, today’s a pretty special occasion actually,” he begins, pausing to see his comments and the reactions within them, “you’re curious? Do you wanna try something new with me?”

Yes. It’s the only thing he sees in his comments, and he lets out a soft laugh before he’s turning back to his camera.

Then, he’s looking past it.

“Come here, baby.”

You knew this was coming— you agreed to this, for crying out loud, but you still feel as though your legs are made of jello as you hesitate, biting your lip before your eyes are widening nervously, the safe word the two of you established beforehand running through your mind like a mantra you mustn’t forget.

“Come on, you don’t want to keep them waiting, do you?” he asks, eyes flickering over to his screen, watching the way everyone seems to go haywire from his words, “See? They’re curious, they want to see you.”

You’re taking your first step towards the camera— then another, and another, until you’re walking past the setup, your back facing the camera as you make your way to where he sits at the edge of the bed, unsure of what to do as you remain frozen in front of him.

“What, are you nervous?” he asks, and he’s only able to let out a mean laugh the moment you’re nodding in response, unable to use your voice properly— that’ll change soon, he thinks, reaching for your hands and guiding them to his shoulders.

“Don’t be,” he whispers, aiming for your thighs next as he’s tugging at them, pleased with the way you let him mold you to his desired position, your thighs on either side of his as you hover over him pathetically, “I know they’ll love you.”

Neither of your full faces can be seen— but the audience can definitely see the way he captures your lips in a harsh kiss, filled with nothing but pure need as he finally gets to feel you properly— you feel as though you’re about to run out air when he finally pulls away, laughing as he feels the way you buttoned every single button of the shirt he gave you.

“Now why would you do that?” he whispers against your lips, and your fingers dig into his shoulders pathetically as you watch him rip it open— the viewers are going wild at the sight, tipping ridiculous amounts of money just so they can get Beomgyu to see their requests; curiously your eyes drift to his monitor.

You practically collapse at the things you read on the screen.

Finger her. Eat her out. Use a vibrator on her, tie her up, breed her until she can’t walk straight, use a dildo on her—

The horror comes from the fact that Beomgyu is clearly considering doing all of it.

“What do you think baby?” he asks you, pressing his hand on the small of your back and forcing you to arch into him, your ass perking out and your cunt left to be entirely displayed as he trails his hand up your back, lifting your shirt along with it as he allows the viewers to get a good look at you.

“Anything that piques your interest?” he whispers, your head buried in his shoulder as you shake from the embarrassment of it all, “or…”

You jolt at the way his hand lands a sharp smack on your ass. He’s quick to soothe the area, smiling at the way he takes in the small whimper you let out, burying your face deeper into his shoulder and arching more in response. He lands another one, much more harsher than the last as his hand immediately drifts to your pussy, spreading you for the camera and watching the way you practically glisten under the light.

“Should I decide how I get to use you for myself?”

He’s a bit surprised to find that you’re quick to nod at his second request, much too shy to even lift your head from where it rests as your fingers dig into his skin.

He smiles, his eyes drifting back to the monitor as he begins reading over their requests.

“Hmm, are you shy, princess?” he asks, fingers trailing along your slit, feeling the way your hole flutters at the feeling, wanting nothing more than to feel him inside as you whine quietly, nodding at his words.

“But you’re so fucking wet, and we haven’t even done anything,” slowly, his fingers slip inside— you’re both moaning at the feeling, and Beomgyu thinks that he might just be the one to cum as he feels the way you stretch around his fingers.

“God, you’re so tight,” he groans, beginning to test out the waters by scissoring you— spreading you out for the camera, watching over your shoulder as your arousal practically leaks out; he gulps, unable to keep his eyes away from the sight as he sighs.

“Feels so soft and warm,” he mutters, placing a kiss on your temple before he’s reaching for something off-screen— the box of toys, you realize, forced to keep your face buried in his shoulder in an attempt to not show your face to his audience.

“Just like I thought you would be,” he says, smiling against your skin as he murmurs the words into your ear— just for you to hear, not for the thousands of people who are currently watching the stream.

“Do you know what I thought about every time I went live?” he asks, sitting up and shifting so that you’re back in position, shaking your head softly as you feel his fingers begin to circle your entrance.

“You.” the stretch you suddenly feel has you moaning pathetically, the first sound the viewers are able to hear as the comments begin to fly past— your legs are shaking at the feeling of him slowly pushing the silicone dildo into your pussy, thick and long as you squeeze your eyes shut, feeling tears prick at your eyes from how full you feel.

“I thought of you. Every time.”

Beomgyu’s eyes are dark as his hand grabs at your ass, spreading your cheeks and showing off the way the dildo begins disappearing into your tight cunt, your arousal already beginning to drip down the toy with every slow thrust of his.

“Wished you were there every time I would stream. I thought about fucking you the way I would fuck my toys,” his thrusts begin speeding up; you’re a moaning mess against him as you push your ass back, showcasing yourself perfectly and pushing up against the toy that he continues to ram into you— you’re jolting back into him with every thrust, your hands beginning to cramp with how hard you’re holding on to him.

“I would always moan your name too, did you ever notice?”

Your mind goes back to the time you thought you heard it— and, unexpectedly, you’re coming undone, reaching your peak as you respond with a pathetic yes…! The realization that it had all been real much more overwhelming than you thought.

Beomgyu continues to fuck the toy into you even long after you’re done coming; you’re a whimpering, crying mess against him, the stimulation making your mind muddled as you quietly attempt to get him to stop.

“Hmm? What do you want baby?” he asks, lips trailing down your neck and to your shoulders, where he begins to slip off your shirt so that you’re more exposed. He remains fully clothed as he begins sucking bruises into your skin, following one of his requests to mark up your pretty skin— his hair falls over his face, covering him momentarily as he begins drifting along your body carelessly.

It’s too much— yet, it’s not enough to have you using your safe word, and the fact makes Beomgyu smile as he bottoms out the toy inside you, grinding it into your pathetic pussy as he watches the way a ring of your cum begins to form around the base.

“Come on, talk to me. We’re waiting,” you’re hesitant to speak— that much is clear, especially when you know how much traction this stream is currently getting, the sound of tips constant as you shake your head in defeat.

“No? Okay then,” your shirt is being slipped off, leaving you naked as you wince slightly at the feeling of your garment being removed. Once again, Beomgyu is moving you around, and you’re facing the camera now as your legs are pried open by his own, the toy still stuffed inside you as you sit on Beomgyu’s lap— right on his hard cock, whining softly as you feel him begin to hold your hips down, grinding into you for some release.

“Don’t wanna use your words? Don’t wanna say anything to me or the viewers?” he tries again, eyes narrowing at the way you remain disobedient and shake your head, laying back against him as you pant softly.

“You’re not gonna thank our viewers for wanting me to please you, you fucking whore?” his hands are swift, and before you realize what he’s doing, your hands are cuffed behind your back, the fuzzy feeling reminding you of the cuffs he uses on himself sometimes.

“Fine. You wanna be ungrateful, stay quiet?” every sound that leaves your lips is unsure and soft, barely able to reach the microphone of the camera as Beomgyu scoffs at you. “Then stay fucking quiet. I don’t wanna hear a single word from you, understand?”

He doesn’t let you respond— of course he wouldn’t let you— but the way your mouth falls open suggests that you almost went against his command, the vibrator that he now pressed onto your clit making your legs shake with the sudden stimulation, threatening to close before Beomgyu’s own pried you back open swiftly.

“Look at you. Like a bitch in heat, only thinking about yourself,” he growls, his other hand beginning to thrust the toy back into you at a harsh pace, listening to the sounds of your arousal and the toy smacking against your skin with a satisfied groan, “Do you have any idea how many people wish they were in your place, wish they could be getting fucked stupid instead of having to sit and watch as I do it to you?”

He pauses. Then, he turns up the intensity of the vibrator with a cruel laugh.

“You would fucking know,” he seethes, taking in the way you writhe against him pathetically, biting at your lip to keep quiet as your hands struggle behind your back, “shit, can’t you hear how pathetic you sound? I bet you were a lot louder when you watched me, just another of my useless viewers that wish that I would fuck you— that I would even fucking acknowledge you.”

Everything that happens next is all a blur— your mind is foggy and you’re coming undone as you feel Beomgyu bite down on your neck, unable to hold back the pure keen of pleasure that rips through you, a string of unintelligible sounds flowing out of you desperately as you cream around the toy, feeling tears sting your eyes the moment Beomgyu decides to turn the intensity up again.

“Take it. I know you can,” he laughs purely because he knows that you have yet to use your safe word. It’s even worse because he’s right, the overstimulation fogging your mind and making you melt in his arms, still able to trust him even if your mind isn’t entirely there.

After a moment, the vibrator is turned off— you can hear him toss it to the side before he’s pulling the dildo out of your aching cunt, your body twitching at the sudden feeling before your cum is oozing out, dripping all over Beomgyu’s sweats and onto his sheets as he merely laughs at you.

You’re being turned around again— you feel woozy as you cling to Beomgyu, barely capable of hovering over him as he simply looks up at you, his eyes holding that same, innocent puppy-like look that got you trapped in his clutches in the first place.

“I feel so stuffy,” he pouts, tilting his head up at you as you simply whine incoherently in response, “I know baby. Won’t you help me out?”

It takes you a second to even register his request, your hands suddenly freed by him before you finally realize what he asked; your hands are slow and clumsy as you reach for the hem of his sweater, barely able to tug it up before he’s helping you out— your hands land on his shoulders once more for stability, your gaze falling on his chest and trailing down curiously.

And there it is. The very tattoo that got you into this mess, though this time you’re free to gawk at it, not paying attention to the way Beomgyu realized he caught you staring until he’s grabbing your hand, placing it on his chest and trailing it down, allowing you to feel him up as he shudders slightly at the feeling.

Your fingers trace over the tattoo. All the way down, following every elaborate line until you’re stopped by the hem of his pants, hands immediately slipping under before you’re tugging them off, pulling off his boxers too as you feel him lift his hips, left just as bare as you before he smiles.

You feel his cock poking at your entrance, painfully hard as he begins to rub it against your slit; teasing you with the tip, looking over your shoulder to see what his viewers may be saying.

“What do you think?” He asks, pushing his tip into your cunt before he’s pulling back out. The action has you whining hopelessly, and Beomgyu has to take a second to recollect his resolve, pausing all movements in order to not come then and there.

“Should I fuck her? Does she deserve it?” He asks, looking over at you, cooing softly at the way your eyes remain glassy and fucked out, “Don’t cry. You don’t deserve to cry, not when you’ve been so ungrateful to our viewers.”

A tip catches his attention, and he’s briefly scanning over the amount and request before he’s biting back a smile.

“See? Even though you haven’t said a word to them, they still want to see me fuck you,” he says, taking your hands off his shoulders and leaving you to wobble momentarily as he places your cuffs back on.

“Aren’t they the sweetest?”

You’re barely able to process what’s going on— all you know is that your position changes within seconds, and your face is buried into the mattress while your ass is up in the air, your legs shaky as you’re barely able to hold yourself up; luckily for you, Beomgyu is there to help, hands grabbing onto your hips before he’s making you lean back.

His cock is poking at your entrance, and he’s already able to feel the way your cunt tries to suck him in as he passes his tip along your entrance, left entranced with the way you look under him, a complete, ruined mess as you quietly whine out to him, your voice muffled from where your face remained in his sheets.

It’s cute, really, the way you’re able to focus so hard on keeping your face hidden— if you lifted your head now, every single viewer on his screen would be able to drink up your expression as he fucked you— the thought irritates Beomgyu.

He’ll just have to make sure to fuck you until you’re too weak to move.

“God, you’re such a brat,” he groans out, entering you slowly and feeling the way you clamp onto him dangerously; even with how wet you are, he finds it difficult to fuck you, gritting his teeth and taking a moment where he merely concentrates on not coming inside you then and there.

“Stop fucking squeezing like that— ah— shit—,” it seems as though your pussy has him going stupid, unable to form a coherent sentence as he slowly pulls out— the whine you let out is long and lethal, so desperate and carnal that Beomgyu finds himself losing control; tightening his hold on your hips, he begins to fuck into you without a care.

“Such a good little pussy,” he grits out, watching the way your ass bounces against him with every thrust, “fuck, wish you’d let me fuck you sooner— would’ve made you mine, wouldn’t be able to get enough of you— god, fuck—!”

The way you tighten at his words is dangerous. He’s cursing and talking down like he always does, but this time, it’s just for you. The very thought is enough to have you clenching around him again, mouth agape and drooling against his sheets as your sounds get louder.

Another tip rings through— the same person from before, repeating the only part of their previous request that Beomgyu has yet to fulfill.

Won’t she say thank you?

The words have him stuttering out a laugh, unable to help the way he moans in between. His thrusts slow, and he’s bottoming out inside you before his motions are nothing but a slow grind, rutting his hips into your aching pussy while he reaches for something off-screen.

Your whines and soft complaints at the sudden change of pace are brief— because soon after a familiar buzzing sound is filling your ears, and before you can react, the same vibrator form before is pressed against your clit on the highest setting.

“Gyuuuuu…!” you whine out, long and desperate and incoherent as Beomgyu grabs at your cuffs, using them as leverage to make you slam back into him. His thrusts are brutal and the sound of skin against skin is enough rivalry to the buzzing of the toy as he begins to use the last of his energy to fuck you to your orgasm, watching as the chat buzzes with excitement from your sudden word.

What? What’d she say?? Was that his name? omg?!

“Do you think you deserve to come?” he sneers, his voice gruff as you shake your head, knowing damn well that you haven’t been perfectly compliant to him like he wanted you to be, especially now that you may have just slipped up and let out a personal fact about him.

“Exactly,” he continues, his thrusts toning down in speed, but not intensity— he pulls out to the tip with every thrust, only to slam back into you and have you jolt forward from the harshness of his pace; the vibrator that was once relentless on your clit is now hovering mere centimeters from you, taunting you as all stimulation becomes insignificant to what it was before.

“Maybe, if you’re good for me, I’ll let you come,” he begins, watching the way you can only nod eagerly against the sheets, your hands struggling against your cuffs— he’s holding your hand at the sight, fingers interlocking as he watches you grip onto his hand with both of yours tightly.

“Will you be good for me? Are you gonna listen to whatever the fuck I ask you to do?” he says, his voice hardening at the end as he looks at you expectantly— a second passes before you’re nodding again.

“My viewers have been so patient with you. The only reason you got all this was because they wanted it— if it were up to me, I would’ve dumped my load in you already and left.”

That’s a lie— the biggest fucking lie Beomgyu has ever told, knowing damn well that he would’ve done all this and more to you any day, entirely unprovoked. But he knows his viewers love it, and so do you, because your cunt squeezes him so tightly he’s afraid he might just come early.

“Aren’t you grateful they loved you so much? Hmm?” you’re barely registering his words anymore. But you’re nodding nonetheless, your thighs beginning to shake from the sheer pleasure of feeling Beomgyu rut into your cunt throughout all this.

“Tell them thank you,” he says sweetly, not giving you enough time to speak before he’s back to fucking you wildly; his pace picking up, aiming for that specific spot that leaves you dumb and drooly as he places the vibrator back on your clit— any chances of sounding sane are thrown out the window as he begins tugging on your cuffs, bouncing you back against him as the wet sounds of his thrusts ring out through the room.

“Did you hear me—?” he asks, landing a smack to your ass before he’s soothing the area, slowing down so he can smack you again, “I said say thank you. Do you think you’re above us, pretty?”

Your first attempt to speak is a garbled mess.

“Come on, I know you can do better than that. Or— do you just wanna be a cute little cumdump for me—? Ah, let me use you every time I stream… don’t need any fucking toys when I have my pretty doll for me— right—?” His own sentences are becoming more incoherent the longer he fucks you, addicted to the way your pussy practically sucks him in deeper in response.

“Try again,” he growls, feeling his own orgasm approaching slowly, “show me you’re not a— shit, a fucking brat, and maybe I’ll let you… ugh, let you come.”

Beomgyu swore he got rid of his habit of rambling like this long ago. But, you seem to be able to bring it out of him, his calm and collected speeches crumbling like paper in his mind as he takes in the way both your arousals are smeared over skin and dripping down your thighs, forming a ring around Beomgyu’s cock as he feels his resolve beginning to crumble— he begins to fuck you carelessly, not able to think about anything else but reaching his high as he waits for your response.

“Mmh—! ugh… fuck…” your voice is increasing in volume, the shy person from before long gone as you begin to chase your orgasm, much too afraid to lose it as you try to form a single, coherent thought.

“Thank…. thank you…” you whine out, but it’s all too slurred and quiet and pathetic to Beomgyu as he growls out a sharp what? His hand pressing down on the small of your back as he glues your hands to your skin, forced to take the way he fucks you as you moan out uncontrollably.

“Thank you..! Thank you thank you, oh, fuck—!” holy shit, you’re full on crying right now, reduced to nothing but a mess of moans and tears as you ramble on repeatedly, only able to remember those limited words as you feel Beomgyu come inside you— warm and deep, stilling for just a moment before he’s back to fucking you, his own moans becoming much more needy at the feeling of overstimulation.

“Thank you thank you thank youuuu, fuck, fuck fuck mmh—!” you feel stupid. You’ve definitely been fucked stupid, moaning out those stupid thank you’s like a prayer as you feel yourself slumping completely, a boneless, gooey mess as you rely on Beomgyu to hold you up.

He continues to fuck into you slowly, even after you’ve gone entirely still; he thinks you might’ve passed out, but it’s only for a minute before he sees you shifting again, burying your head into the mattress as he hears the distant sound of you sniffling.

Beomgyu feels concerned for a second, ready to check up on you and end the stream before you’re grabbing his hand again; then you’re clenching around him, mumbling his name so sweetly while you try to press yourself against him.

You’re straight up gone, he realizes, stilling for a moment and waiting for you to use your safe word— but you don’t, and he sees you peeking subtly at his monitor before you’re burying your face back into his sheets.

“You got a new tip.”

The words are barely audible to him, but he’s quick to glance at it upon your request; he almost chokes as he sees the five-hundred dollars that have been sent to him, his eyes reading over the request a few times before he’s looking back at you.

Could you try to make her squirt ?

“It’s five hundred dollars,” you mutter, and all Beomgyu can do is let out a bewildered laugh, leaning down to place a kiss on your shoulder before he’s whispering in your ear if you’re okay to continue— the small nod you give him is enough to have his cock hardening inside you.

Fuck, he’s gonna give you the aftercare of the century after this.

#txt smut #txt hard hours #txt hard thoughts #beomgyu smut #txt fanfic #txt fanfiction #txt imagines #txt oneshots #txt ff #txt fluff #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu x you #beomgyu x y/n #beomgyu ff #beomgyu imagines #beomgyu oneshot

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ihave-atummyache · 4 months

Text

jealousy is a disease

SOMEONE MADE THE REQUEST FOR JEALOUS SKZ AND I CANT FIND IT

and they signed it with a little orange heart and i feel so bad.

im sorry annony idk what happened to it but😣😣 the general question was like what jealous sex with skz would be like and i wanted to do like a head cannon but then i got way carried away and just went ham.

ot8

11.5 k words (im sorry. im sick in the head)

NSFW!!!!! SMUT SMUT SMUT

reader lowk toxic asf, cheating, nasty nasty smut, just read it and find out👍🏽

Chan:

He isn't one to often get jealous. He is very secure in your relationship and knows that you only have eyes for him. So he is equally surprised when he finds himself getting jealous over your relationship with Changbin.

Maybe it was the fact that he was also jealous of Changbin for being able to spend time with you but, he found himself snapping one day when he calls you.

"Hey. What do you want for dinner later?" Chan's voice rings across the phone. He notices the loud noise in the background and realized you probably aren't at home. He also knows that you are definitely off of work today.

"Where are you?" He speaks up again before you can reply to his previous question.

"I'm at the mall with Binnie," you reply and Chan feels his jaw clenching against his will. He sits up in his seat and leans his elbows onto his knees.

"We can. Let's go in," your voice rings across the phone and he assumes you're talking to Changbin.

"Can you answer my question or are you too busy?" Chan's voice is short and impatient but you're too distracted to recognize any hostility in his tone.

"What was the question again?" You ask, a giggle leaving your mouth that was definitely not meant for him. This makes his blood boil even more at the fact that someone else was spending time with you and hearing your giggle first hand.

"Nevermind, y/n. I'll talk to you later," he grumbles and hangs up the phone before you can say much else. You pull the phone off your ear and blink down at it a couple of times before looking over to Changbin.

"Uh oh. I think someone is mad," Changbin speaks up before you can and you shake your head, shocked that Chan is showing any signs of jealousy.

"Channie! We're back!" You announce yourself as you walk into their dorm but get no response. You turn to Changbin and he shrugs at you.

"I know he's here. I checked his location when we pulled up," you mumble, sort of to yourself and sort of to Changbin. You make your way to your boyfriend's bedroom and don't bother knocking on the door, instead just pushing it open.

He's sat on his bed, scrolling through what you assume is social media on his phone. You drop the bags down next to the door and make your way over to the bed, straddling your boyfriend's thighs.

"I'm back," you mumble, wrapping your arms around his neck but he doesn't even spare you a glance, still focused on scrolling on his phone.

"I heard," he mumbles and you pout, twisting the hair at the nape of his neck. You look around the room and see that he seems to have actually been relaxing for once all day. There's no trace of his computer or messy scrawlings of music like there usually is.

"What did you do today?" you prompt him to speak to you, letting your hands travel to the back of his head and scratch at his scalp.

"Nothin'," he isn't even pretending that he wants to talk to you. You roll your eyes, pulling your body closer to him but he keeps his phone positioned between you.

"So you just sat here all day, counting the hours until I return?" you tease and he finally glances up at you, which you take advantage of and put on your best puppy dog eyes.

"Yeah, mate. I sat here bored while my girlfriend and best friend hung out without me," he drops his phone onto the bed next to him and crosses his arms over his chest. He falls back against the headboard, staring you down.

You reach forward and unfold his arms, which he lets you do, and you wrap them around your waist before you lean forward as wrap your arms around his neck, pressing your chest to his.

"Are you jealous, baby?" You ask and start playing with the tops of his ears, which are growing increasingly red at your question.

"N-no," he mumbles out and pulls you tighter against him, pressing you against him through his pants.

"Are you jealous because I stole Binnie or are you jealous because Binnie stole me?" You ignore his answer and a small pout makes its way to his plump lips.

"Don't call him Binnie," he whines and you can't help the laugh that falls from your lips. You lean forward and kiss the pout away.

"You're the cutest," you smile down at him before pressing another kiss to his lips. His arms tighten around you more and your body moves closer to him, grinding yourself down onto his bulge.

"Stop rubbing yourself against me. I'm supposed to be mad at you," he complains but his tight grip on you and his thumbs rubbing soothing circles offer a contrary action to his words.

"You don't have to be mad anymore, baby. It's okay to get a little jealous. I'm always jealous when I see you with anyone that isn't me," you shrug and he chuckles, pulling your hips against him again.

"I just don't like to share you," he grumbles out, his ears growing even more red. Between you rutting against him and him confessing to being jealous, you don't know which is making him more red.

"You don't share me. I wouldn't be sitting like this with anyone else besides you," you grind down into him again and he releases his grip on you, instead grabbing your hips.

"I wouldn't be trying this hard to fuck anybody but you," you speak lowly, placing a kiss to the side of his neck. He lets out a deep groan at your words and you grind down into him again.

"Show me I'm yours?" You ask quietly into his ear and it only take a millisecond for his hand to find your chin and turn it, smashing his lips against yours. His tongue immediately finds its way into your mouth and he easily flips the two of you over so that he is placed between your legs.

He grabs your jeans and gently pulls them down your legs and then your underwear. He rubs lazy circles on your clit while he continues to kiss you. He catches himself rutting against your thigh, desperate for friction and you also notice.

"Fuck me, Chris. Please?" you ask, as sweetly as you can muster, and who is he to deny you when you sound so nice? He pushes his pants down his legs and lines himself up with your entrance before slowly sinking in.

You let out a hiss at the stretch and he drops to his elbows, caging you in, and locking your lips again. Your hands make their way around his back and he slowly starts to speed up when he feels you relaxing around him.

"You're always so tight for me," he mumbles against your lips and you hum when he picks up the pace.

"Nobody can make me feel the way you do, Channie," you moan out and he places another kiss to your lips before he sits back on his heels, folding your knees to either side of your chest.

"You don't think Changbin could make you feel like this?" His jealousy creeps back into him and you immediately shake your head, feeding into him.

"Only you," you breathe out and his thrusts start to hit you harder, making you mewl out and slap your hand over your mouth. He grabs your wrist quickly, pinning it beside your head.

"I want him to hear. I want him to hear how good I can make you feel," he groans out and his other hand comes down to make contact with your clit, making quick work of pushing you towards your orgasm.

"Are you going to cum, princess? I can feel you trying to milk my cock," Chan sets a bruising pace and you cry out when you feel yourself on the verge of cumming.

"Fuck! Chris, you're going to make me cum. Fuck. I'm cumming I'm cumming I'm cumming..." you find yourself chanting as he plows into you and he releases your wrist and stops abusing your clit, now chasing his own high.

"Cum for me, Chan. Fill me up, Channie," you're practically begging for his cum and its all it takes for him to get sent over the edge, letting himself collapse on top of you and locks your lips while he paints your insides with his seed.

"He's probably going to be traumatized," Chan breathes out when he pulls away from you, causing you to laugh.

Lee Know:

"Why do you insist on making me so angry?" Minho's voice in your ear is deep and raspy but still clear over the music thudding around you. You bite down on your lip at his tone and turn your head to face him. Your faces are only a few inches apart and you can clearly see the anger flickering through his gaze.

"What did I do?" You're playing dumb. You know what you did. You were just trying to be nice back to the bartender and it was too late for you once you realized he was actually flirting with you and it probably looked like you were flirting back.

A smirk covers Minho's face and he grabs his wallet, pulling out his card and handing it to the bartender.

"Me and my girlfriend are leaving. Close the tab." He demands, jaw clenching. The bartender blinks between the two of you a few times before you hang your head in shame, not daring to look the man in the eyes again.

"But I want to stay," you know you shouldn't whine, you know you shouldn't complain. The circumstance was far from relaxed and Minho snapping his head towards you further proves that point.

Minho's hand finds its way to your shoulders, pulling your body towards him and he leans down, his breath blowing your hair and sending chills down your spine. His hand moves down to your lower back, holding you in place. From anyone else looking at you, it would look like a sweet gesture but this is Minho.

"You want to stay here and have fun with your new boyfriend? That's too bad. You're not getting your way this time, princess," his voice is sharp and hostile. The nickname is practically spat into your ear and you gulp, feeling heat rush up your neck.

His hand creeps from your lower back to the back of your neck, his hand resting there until you finished your drink and stood. He still doesn't remove his hand, guiding you through the crowd and out of the bar until you get to his car. He only lets go when he reaches down to open the door for you, closing it behind you, and walking to the other side of the car.

He settles in the drivers seat and starts the car but doesn't put his seatbelt on or make any effort to pull out of the parking lot.

"Do you enjoy acting like a spoiled brat?" His deep voice breaks the silence and you can't help rolling your eyes at him.

"You're the one acting like a spoiled brat. Not me. I was just being nice and you got jealous," you cross your arms over your chest and and Minho clenches his jaw again, still looking out of the windshield.

"If you know how easily I get jealous, why do you always make me feel like this. If you want me to fuck you until you can't walk, then just say that," his words catch you off guard and he finally turns to face you.

"What? Cat got your tongue? Nothing to say now, sweetheart?" He taunts you and you huff, turning away from him to face out the window.

"You forced me to leave when I was having fun so lets go. I'm ready for bed," you mumble, staring out the window.

"Speak up when you're talking to me." His tone is commanding and you gulp, still refusing to face him. He grabs your chin, turning your head to face him.

"And stop fucking pouting. Would you rather go in there and spend time with my replacement?" he taunts pushing your face out of his hand and you subconsciously rub your thighs together. You both know how much it turns you on when he gets aggressive with you like this.

"Yes actually," you know you shouldn't instigate him but you can't help it. You reach for the door handle and he can't quite grab you before you're out of the car. He quickly exits the car as well and grabs you before you're even two steps away.

His hand wraps around your wrist, pulling your body into his. You try to wriggle your hand out of his grip but he is much stronger than you. He tightens his grip and turns you so you're sitting on the hood of his car, the vibration from the engine sending chills throughout your entire body.

Minho's hand drops between your thighs and he presses two fingers against your panties before he lets out a chuckle.

"You're pathetic. Why are you so wet?" He practically spits in your face and you bite your lip to fight the smile from making its way on your face before you make your final jab at his ego.

"Must've been from the way the bartender was looking at me," you taunt and Minho freezes for a moment before he lets out a loud laugh. A genuine laugh and you feel your heart drop. You might have pushed him too far this time.

"All you care about is attention, isn't it? It doesn't even matter who you get it from. You just want the promise of something touching your cunt," he spits and takes a step towards you, you stumble back slightly, sitting on the hood.

Minho leans forward and places a hand on either side of your body, his face only centimeters from yours. Your eyes dart down to his lips and his tongue flicks out, wetting them before your eyes meet his again. You lean forward, desperate to meet your lips together but a hand between you two stops you. Your eyes shoot open and Minho has the most smug look on his face, his hand over your mouth muffling your whine.

"You need to stop provoking me, princess," he speaks lowly and the pressure on your mouth increases as he lays you back on the hood of the car and positions himself between your legs. Your short dress rides up quickly and is gathered around your hips.

His other hand makes its way to your core, pushing his way inside of your panties and he inserts a finger into you. His hand is still covering your mouth and you arch into him, my hand stopping the pitiful sounds from leaving your mouth.

His hand exits your panties and he undoes his belt quickly, never moving his other hand from your mouth. He pulls your panties to the side and lines himself up with your entrance before entering you, all in one go.

You cry out at the stretch and it would probably have been close to a shriek if it wasn't for Minho's hand. He finally removes his hand, opting to place his fingers in your mouth instead.

"Suck, slut," he demands you and you immediately oblige before he starts to move inside of you, making your eyes roll back into your head. He removes his wet fingers from your mouth and they quickly find your clit, rubbing circles on it.

Your back arches at his touch and he feels you clenching around him.

"I'm- I'm gonna-" before you can finish your sentence, Minho stops. Your oncoming orgasm quickly dissipates and your eyes fly open.

"What the fuck? Why did you do that?" you complain, anger creeping into your body and he lets out another laugh.

"Do you seriously think that you should be allowed to cum with the way you have been acting today?" he questions and you feel your eyes start to water in frustration. His hand reaches forwards and wraps around the back of your hair. He pulls out of you and steps back, using your hair to guide you to your knees in front of him.

"You need something in your pretty mouth to fix that attitude," he comments and you look up at him. He runs a thumb across your cheekbone, gathering a tear that you hadn't even realized had fallen before his cock is in your mouth.

His grip in your hair tightens and his head falls back at the feeling of your mouth around him. He doesn't give you time to adjust before he's fucking your mouth, making you gag every time he hits the back of your throat. Your eyes fall closed as the tears make their way to your eyes again.

"Look at me," he demands and you obey, your eyes popping open to meet his and as soon as the air hits your eyes, the tears starts to fall down your cheeks.

"Fuck, you look so pretty, baby," he reaches into his back pocket and you don't realize what he's doing until the flash is on your face and you realize he's recording you. It doesn't take much before his thrusts get sloppy in your mouth.

"Fuck. I'm going to show this to your little friend. Make him realize who you belong to," he groans and pushes his cock as far into you as he can, cumming down your throat. He pulls out of your mouth with a pop before forcing his thumb into your mouth and prying it open.

"Open up. Let me make sure you swallowed it all," he speaks up and you sniffle, sticking your tongue out and he moves the camera to your mouth, proving that you did in fact swallow everything he gave you. He turns the camera off and places it on the car behind you.

"Such a good girl," he comments, rubbing your cheeks, trying his best to wipe your tears without ruining your makeup.

Changbin:

"I just don't get it, Binnie! What did I do so wrong? He's actually fucking insane," you rant, still pacing around the room. You and your boyfriend had just gotten into a huge fight about how he thinks you're cheating on him with your best friend, Changbin.

He claims he can sense the sexual tension between the two of you and wouldn't put it past you to be having sex with him behind his back. To be fair, the two of you do have a lot of sexual tension that neither of you have explored but that's neither here nor there.

"What exactly was he saying? You still haven't told me," Changbin looks up at you from the studio chair and the eye contact has you pacing again. A blush creeps up your neck when you realize you need to relay to him what your boyfriend has been saying.

"He..um..." you trail off and Changbin stands from the chair and put both hands on your shoulder, stopping your pacing, and guides you to the couch to sit you down.

"Relax, sweetheart. Take a deep breath. What did he say to you?" He asks you, leaning down so you're eye level with each other. You chew on your lip and Changbin's eyes dart to your mouth for a moment before he makes eye contact with you again.

"He thinks I'm cheating on him," you start and Changbin scoffs, shaking his head.

"Why would he ever even think that? You're with that piece of shit and nobody else so he should be grateful to even be able to have you in his presence," his tone is a bit angry and he releases your shoulders, sitting on the coffee table across from you.

"With you..." you finish the statement and your best friend's eyes grow wide at the rest of the sentence. He blinks at you a few times, obviously trying to find the right words but they never make it out of his mouth.

"He says that we have too much sexual tension to not be fucking each other. I was really thinking about it and I can't tell if he's right or wrong," you suddenly confess and a chuckles leaves Changbin's mouth.

"We can prove him right if you want," Changbin suddenly proposes and you freeze. You're not blinking or even breathing when he makes the confession.

"Wha... Binnie, I don't-"

"Come on. We both know he isn't good enough for you anyways. He's just mad because he sees how much better I would treat you," He leans forward, placing a hand on your knee.

"He sees how much happier you are with me," he leans forward more, his lips only a few inches from yours. "You can tell me to stop and we will never talk about this again," he whispers and leans towards you more. When his lips are only a centimeter from yours, he looks up into your eyes, searching for any uncertainty.

Instead, he sees pure lust and you lean forward, closing the gap between the two of you. You stand, your hands finding a place on either one of his muscular shoulders and slowly trailing down his biceps. You have felt his muscles a million times, but never like this.

His hands wrap around the back of your thighs and he pulls you forward, making you stumble into his lap, straddling him. His hands make purchase on your ass, almost as if they were always supposed to be there. He kneads at the flesh softly, earning a small moan from you.

His grip on your ass tightens and he stands, still holding you before he turns and slowly lowers himself onto the couch. He really is strong and the thought of how easily he can manhandle you has you dripping. You pull away from him, letting your forehead rest against his.

"You feel so good under me," you whisper out and a cocky smirk quickly makes its way to his face. You bite down on your lip and his finger is quick to reach up and pull it from between your teeth.

"You always bite your lip when you look at me. Why is that?" he questions and you're already too turned on to be embarrassed by anything that might come out of your mouth.

"Because I'm always thinking about how much better you could fuck me than my boyfriend," you speak out lowly and he literally growls at the statement, a slap resonating through the room when his hand makes contact with your ass.

"You're mine. You always have been mine. Even when you're with anyone else, you still belong to me," he groans out and locks his lips with yours again. His hand makes quick work of the button on your jeans and his hand is in your panties, rubbing against your leaking slit.

"Fuck. Are you always this wet?" he speaks against your lips and you let out a moan when he creeps a finger inside of you.

"Only when I'm around you," your confession isn't untrue, which is honestly sad. Your best friend gets you more turned on than your boyfriend ever has.

He sinks another finger into you and your head falls back, exposing your neck to him. He can't resist the urge and leans forward, sucking a hickey into your throat. His fingers pumping in and out of you have you too distracted to even realize what he's doing.

He pulls his hand from inside of your pants and flips you off of him with ease, making you land on your back on the couch next to him. He quickly pulls your jeans and panties down your legs and pushes two fingers into you again, before leaning down and licking at your clit. Your head falls back and you start to see stars at the combination.

"Fuck. You're making me feel so good, Binnie. I'm going to cum if you keep doing that," you mewl out and the thought of you cumming has him seeing stars but he would much rather feel you cumming around his cock than his fingers.

He pulls his fingers from you and sits up. He pushes your legs closed and wraps an arm around your waist, flipping you with ease. You feel his presence behind you and hear his belt unbuckling before he leans over to whisper in your ear.

"I'm going to cum in this pussy. I want to put a baby in you so everyone knows you belong to me,” his husky voice has you letting out a moan and he uses his knee to kick your legs apart and open you up for him.

He sinks into you and you let out a deep moan at the stretch. You almost regret this position because you would have loved to see his pretty cock before he buried it inside of you but that just means you’ll have to do this again later.

He continues to sink into you and he's hitting spots that you are positive your boyfriend has never hit before. Changbin's hand wraps into your hair and he tugs gently at the roots, making you clench around him.

"You're so fucking tight. There's no way your boyfriend is fucking you right," he speaks through gritted teeth and you moan when he finally starts to pick up speed. His cock is pushing against your g-spot every time he slides into you and before long, you feel yourself cumming far harder than you ever have.

It washes over you without warning and the sounds coming from where you and your best friend are connected are absolutely obscene. You cover his thighs and your own, along with the couch in your orgasm. Your legs are shaking and your hands are gripping the back of the couch when Changbin stops completely.

"You just squirted every where. You made such a mess, baby. I'm just getting started and you already can't control yourself," he starts to thrust into you shallowly, making your whole body shake.

"I'm going to show you how you should've been getting fucked this whole time," he grunts out, wrapping his hand tighter in your hair and speeding up his thrusts.

Hyunjin:

"We're just friends. Stop being so fucking jealous. Oh my God," you throw your hands in the air and you kick your shoes off before Hyunjin turns around to face you, shock covering his face.

"You're joking. You have seriously got to be joking right now," he snaps at you, his voice raising slightly in volume and you shrug at him annoyed.

"If I was friends with someone that I used to regularly fuck, you would lose your shit. Don't try to deny it," he speaks up again and you scoff. Okay maybe be isn't completely wrong. You would be mad, but you and your ex friend with benefit had a different kind of relationship.

"It wasn't even like that, Hyunjin!" you snap and shrug your jacket off, pushing past him towards the living room.

"So he isn't your ex fuck buddy?"

"Well he is but-"

"But nothing, y/n. Think about how the fuck I feel right now. Stop getting defensive and just fucking listen to me," he snaps at you, his voice raising more and you immediately feel yourself folding at his tone.

Your sweet boyfriend doesn't often get mad or even frustrated with you but when he does... it’s like a dam breaks in your panties. You can't help riling him up even more. Honestly you weren't nearly as angry as your were five minutes ago.

"I'm listening, Jinnie. Just calm down," you put your hands up in defense and you can't stop yourself from rolling your eyes.

"Did you just roll your eyes at me?" His voice is back to its normal volume but his tone is much deeper. You know if you push his buttons right, you could get him to fuck you just like you like it.

"And if I did?" You provoke him further and he crosses the room faster than you can even comprehend. He places one knee on the side of your thigh and both of his hands grip the back of the couch. He has you completely caged in and your heart is racing.

"Where did my sweet girl go? I don't know this brat," he speaks through a clenched jaw and you look up at him, letting your head fall onto the back of the couch.

"Mm. 'M not a brat," you protest and your hand find its way onto his thigh, rubbing the jean material gently. He studies your face for a moment before a devious smirk covers his own.

"Do I need to remind you how much better I fuck you? Do I need to remind you that he wouldn't be able to handle your attitude for even an hour?" he leans down, his nose brushing against yours.

"Do I need to remind you of your place, my pretty?" His tongue darts out and licks your lips. Your mouth instinctively falls open and he presses his lips to yours, trapping you between the couch and his body. You wrap your arms around his neck and deepen the kiss.

He repositions himself so you're laying on the couch and he is hovering above you. You let out a deep groan into his mouth when his thigh presses against your core. His hand finds its way down to your hip and he starts to guide you across his thigh.

His lips never leave yours and you feel yourself approaching your high much quicker than you would like to admit. Rutting against your boyfriend's thigh was enough to send you over the edge and just as you reach your peak, he stops your hips and hold you firmly against his thigh so you can't grind anymore, essentially ruining your pitiful excuse for an orgasm.

"Jinnie, you just-"

"Shh, princess," he presses his lips against yours again before slowly trailing down your body. He unbottons your blouse, letting your lacy bra hang out. He presses strategic kisses over where your nipples are before inching all the way to the top of your skirt.

He skips past the skirt and kisses the inside of your thighs before finally letting his head dip under the skirt and pressing a kiss against your soaking panties. You aren't nearly as sensitive as you usually are after your orgasm and you assume its because he didn't let you actually reach your peak.

His fingers hook into the sides of your panties and he pulls them down your legs before he leans back up and licks a stripe up your core. He immediately starts to eat you like a man starved.

His fingers quickly find your entrance and you let out a moan when he pushes two fingers into you, curling and scissoring them just how you like. All the while, he never stops sucking and flicking your clit and all the sensations quickly have you building up to another orgasm.

"I'm- I'm cumming," you blurt out, your hand shooting down to find your boyfriend's hair but suddenly, you're left again. You reach another sad excuse for an orgasm and it’s almost painful, making you cry out.

"Hyunjin. Please. Please stop. I need to cum so bad," you beg, tears beginning to stream down your face and your bottom lip trembling.

"But you are cumming," he has the most shit eating smirk on his lips and you wish you could slap him in that moment. You bring both of your hands over your eyes to try to stop the tears.

Hyunjin rarely ever got mean when he was domming you so it was an overwhelming experience. But also, you did kind of instigate this and you would be lying if you said a part of you didn’t genuinely enjoy this.

"Stop crying. You think your friend would have you crying and begging like this?" he suddenly speaks up and you pull your hands away from your eyes to look at him. Your makeup is completely smeared and you looks so messy and... beautiful.

"No, Jinnie. Only you. Only you can make me cum. Please make me cum," you're pleading again, reaching for him but he sits back on the couch, turning away from you to sit properly and you sit up.

"Come do it yourself if you're that desperate," he scoffs at you before throwing his arm up on the back of the couch and adjusting himself to sit in a proper manspread.

You scramble to sit up and drop to your knees in front of him, palming him over his jeans. He can put up this act all he wants but he is almost painfully hard and you can feel it. You reach up and undo his belt. He lifts his hips as you pull down his jeans and underwear and you straddle him, not bothering to take of the rest of your clothes.

You align him with your soaking and begging entrance before dropping down onto him in one swift motion, your head falling back at the feeling of finally being filled.

"You fill me up so perfect," you begin to catch yourself rambling and Hyunjin hums in agreement, still not touching you and your eyes snap open when your head falls forward to look at him.

His eyes are already on you but he still has this nonchalant look on his face that you can't help getting pissed off over. He's buried in his girlfriend's pussy and can't even be bothered to let out a moan? You slide up, almost letting him drop out of you, before snapping back down onto him. He grunts but still doesn't let a single one of his pretty moans leave his mouth.

Your hands creep up your body and you grab the cups of your bra, letting your breasts fall out. If there is one thing about Hyunjin, its that visuals are what really get him going. The sight of your breasts bouncing in his face would hopefully be enough to tempt him at least a little bit.

"Fuck. You're so pretty. All mine. I wish nobody else ever got to see you like this before me," he confesses, finally folding and placing both hands on your hips, guiding your movements.

"Nobody has. Nobody had ever had me begging like you make me do. Nobody can make me feel as good as you, baby. I'm all yours," you start to babble again as the feeling of an orgasm approaches you.

Hyunjin leans forward and sucks one of your nipples into his mouth which is enough to send you into the most mind boggling and insane orgasm you have ever had.

You let out something that can only be described as a scream and Hyunjin quickly places his hand over your mouth, trying his best to suppress the noises leaving your mouth.

The feeling of your orgasm has him cussing and cumming inside of you with almost no warning. Your hands are wrapped around his neck and your body is practically convulsing as you come down from your orgasm. You feel tears streaming down your face and the feel of Hyunjin's hands on your cheeks snap you back into reality.

"Are you okay, my angel?" his voice is soft and you nod, still catching your breath. Your muscles start to relax and you feel like jelly, falling forward to bury your face into Hyunjin's neck.

"Was I too mean?" He speaks up, his hand gently petting the back of your hair and you shake your head.

"No. Not at all. It was so good," you confess, a blush making its way to your face.

Han:

"Y/n. You're insane. You know that?" Your boyfriend, well ex boyfriend, practically yells at you as you pick up a pillow and throw it at him.

"Get out of my fucking house, Jisung!" You snap and grab another pillow, throwing it as hard as you can but he still manages to catch it.

"I'm not fucking cheating on you. Your jealousy is out of control. We literally are in the same company! Of course we’re friends," He defends himself and you slap your hands over your ears. Yes you are being childish but you don't want to lose this argument that it seems you have already lost.

Jisung is right, the girl is part of the company and he spoke to her in passing at an award show. He probably made some stupid joke and she laughed. But the way she laughed at him is what had your blood boiling. It wasn't a laugh, it was a giggle. A fucking giggle.

"Shut up, Jisung," you step towards him, your finger poking him in the chest. A smirk covers his face as he takes a step towards you, challenging you.

"Make me," he taunts you and you bawl your fist up at your sides. His stupid pretty eyes and his stupid pretty smirk and his stupid perfect body pressed against yours had you so confused.

"I'm so confused. I'm so mad at you but you're so... hot," you throw your hands up in frustration and turn your back to him. He still has his hair and makeup done from the award show.

He took the suit jacket off but somehow he looks even hotter. The rolled up sleeves and a few of the top buttons are undone on his shirt and he just looks so fucking good, you could jump his bones.

"Are you done being jealous or are you still trying to break up with me?" His voice sounds from behind you and you storm to your room. You try to slam the door before Jisung can reach you but he's much closer than you thought and he catches the door before it can close.

He enters the room and sits on the edge of the bed, leaning back against his hands. His legs spread slightly and he looks over at you. He really does look so good. The way the pants are hugging his thighs and accentuating his slim waist.

You're crossing the room to him before your brain can catch up with your feet and your lips are against his. You quickly straddle him and your tongues are fighting until your hand finds its way into his hair, tugging gently. He moans and you use the opportunity to take dominance.

You pull away and pull his hair again, exposing his neck to you and you place a kiss over his pulse point. You can see how hard his heart is beating and you grind down gently into him when your teeth make contact with the pulsing vein.

"You're mine, Sungie. I don't even want other people looking at what's mine," you mumble into his neck, continuing to place kisses to the exposed skin.

"I'm yours. I always have been and I always will be," he agrees with you and you push him down so he's lying on his back. You unbotton a few more of his buttons and let your lips explore the newly exposed skin on his chest.

You're shimmying out of your shorts and straddling him again before he even realizes that you are. The silk shirt is probably going to be ruined by the time you're done but you really couldn't care less.

You pull away and push Jisung's arms down flat and moving yourself until you're hovering your soaking core over his face. His hands quickly grab your ass and push you down to sit on his face. Your head falls back and one hand finds its way into his hair as soon as he begins sucking on your clit.

"Fuck. This is my mouth. I can do whatever I want with it," you moan out, grinding down into him and he hums against your core, sending vibrations throughout your body and making you see stars.

"I'm gonna cum, baby. You're doing so good, fuck," you cry out as your orgasm comes washing over you. He continues to lick and suck at you, holding you in place with his hands.

You try to squirm away but your boyfriend is much stronger than you, despite letting you dominate him sometimes. He forces you to stay above his mouth abusing your pussy. By the time he's inserting two fingers, you're already cumming again.

This time, Jisung does let you pull away and you roll off of him before looking over at him again. He is covered in you, his face, his neck, his shirt.

"Mm, I love letting you play dominant. But look who can have you squirting all over their face," His voice is husky and you feel a blush covering your face.

"Shut up," you mumble out, covering your face with your arm.

"Make me," he mumbles into your ear before placing a kiss on your neck.

Felix:

"Sorry, love! I'm with my roommate right now but I'll come over right after we finish this," you explain through the phone and Felix huffs, a cute pout on his face.

"But you live together. You see each other everyday. What about me?" His tone is just as pouty as his face and you can't stop the smile forcing its way to your lips. He's just too cute.

"You're so cute, Lix. I promise I'll be on the way in like an hour. Okay?" you promise and he groans again.

"Not okay," he replies and sets his phone up so he can dramatically let his head fall onto his desk. You bite down on your lip to try to keep from laughing but it doesn't quite work.

"Okay, okay. You big baby. I'll leave here in a little bit," you reassure him and look over at your roommate who is also holding back a laugh at your sweet boyfriend's antics.

A huge smile covers his face when he sits back up. He's so spoiled and you can't blame anyone but yourself.

"I love you," he smiles through the phone and you roll your eyes.

"Yeah, yeah. I love you too. See you in a little bit," you hang up the phone and turn to your roommate who is giggling her head off.

"You wanna come? I'm sure Innie won't mind spending time with you," you tease her and she groans, sinking into the couch. She shakes her head and glances over at you.

"I think he might just be the last person I want to see right now," she grumbles and you laugh while you walk towards the door to gather your belongings.

"I'll see you later, roomie!" you call out and step out the door, making your way to Felix's.

You reach out to knock on the door but it opens before you can and you drop your hand, being met face to face with your precious boyfriend.

"Finally!" he grabs you and lifts you off the ground in a tight hug before closing the door behind you. He puts you back down on your feet and presses his lips to yours.

"Missed you, jealous baby," you tease him and a pout immediately forms on his face, his grip around your waist tightening.

" 'M not jealous. I just missed you," he tries to convince you but you shake your head, dropping your hands from his shoulders and making your way towards his bedroom.

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say," you roll your eyes and step into his room, making yourself comfortable on his bed.

"Is it bad that I just want to spend time with you? You literally live with her. You can see her anytime you want! I have to hang out with you as much as possible because there might be months where we don't get to see each other," he continues trying to defend himself and sits next to you on the bed. You roll onto your stomach and throw your arm over his lap, letting out a groan.

"Don't remind me," you grumble out. The thought of not being able to see Felix whenever you want literally makes you sick to your stomach. His hand finds your hair and he starts scratching your scalp, a way of comforting you.

"Can I have a kiss?" Felix's voice suddenly speaks up and you immediately sit up. He's so cute when he asks permission and who would ever say no to his requests?

You place one leg across his lap and one of his hands makes itself comfortable on your thigh while the other one grabs the back of your neck, pulling you closer to his mouth. You lean forward and wrap your arms around his neck.

The kiss quickly turns more deep and his tongue is in your mouth before you know it. You accept, of course, and Felix takes a dominant position, which is a bit unusual for him. When the two of you are intimate, there isn't usually a real dominant or submissive dynamic.

That being said, the way Felix's tongue is exploring your mouth and the tight grip on the back of your neck are telling a different story. He quickly rolls on top of you, settling between your legs and you can't help grinding up into him a little bit.

He pulls away and starts kissing on your neck, leaving wet marks and tiny bruises along the way. His hands make their way under the bottom of your shirt and settle on either side of your waist. You arch up into him, desperate for more of his touch.

"If you had stayed with your roommate, you wouldn't have been feeling so good right now," his low tone sends chills across your body and you audibly moan at his words.

"I know. I know. Can you touch me more, please?" Your words are kind but your tone is definitely showing sign of impatience. You sound a bit demanding and Felix lets out a chuckle when he sits up to look at your face.

"So demanding. Does your roommate let you boss her around like that? It's not going to work with me, love," he leans down and presses a quick kiss to your mouth. He pulls away and has you following him before his hand lands at the base of your neck, pushing you back down onto the bed.

The action has you letting out a gasp and you subconsciously grind up into Felix again, desperate for some sort of friction. Your boyfriend stares at you for a moment, processing how much you enjoy how rough he is being with you right now.

"You're so naughty," he comments, his grip tightening slightly around your neck and your hips buck again. This time, he presses his hips down onto you, letting you make contact with his quickly growing bulge.

"You are jealous, aren't you?" you mewl out and a smirk covers his face while he looks down at you. He wishes he could take a picture of you in this moment, your hair spread around you, your eyes glossy, a flush on your face, his marks left on your neck that are peeking out from behind his hand.

"Mm. What do you think? You see her everyday and still tried to pick her over me," he grinds into you, making you let out a deep moan, "I just don't think it's very fair. Wouldn't you agree, angel?" he taunts you, grinding into you again, catching perfectly on your clit through your leggings. Your head falls back on the mattress and Felix gets an evil idea.

"You think I could make you cum like this? Just through some dry humping? You really are so naughty..." he trails off before grinding into you at the same exact spot again. This time, he doesn't stop and instead keeps the pace going.

He's lucky he has on jeans but even through his jeans, he can feel the friction and has to try to not think about it just so he can prove a point.

"Fuck, Lix. I-I feel so good. You're making me feel so good," you gasp out and he lets out another low laugh at how fucked out you sound and your pants are still on.

"Are you going to cum? Who is making you cum? Use your words, baby," his grinding speeds up and you wrap both your hands around his forearm in front of your face. Your nails dig into the skin and his grip around your neck tightens before he releases it again, which is enough to send you flying over the edge.

"You! You, Felix! You're making me...mm.. you're making me cum. I'm cumming! Thank you," you're blabbering out and you don't even realize you're thanking him and you're not even sure what you're thanking him for but it opens up a whole new side of Felix that he didn't even know existed.

You feel yourself coming back down from your high and Felix is already hooking his fingers into your leggings and pulling them down your legs. His gentle kisses to the inside of your thighs finally brings you fully back to reality.

"Now, I'm going to eat this pretty pussy and you're going to thank me every time I make you cum. Do you understand?" his voice is commanding and dripping with authority. You bite down on your lip before nodding.

"Yes. I understand," you whisper out and before anymore thoughts can be had, Felix dives into your hypersensitive pussy.

Seungmin:

"He likes you," Seungmin whispers in your ear, his hand gently grazing your hip. You shake it off and turn to him, a fake smile plastered on your face.

"So?" you prompt, raising your eyebrow and he mirrors the fake smile on your face, letting a scoff fall from his lips.

"So stop flirting with him," he speaks through gritted teeth, trying to make the smile stay on his face for the cameras. You roll your eyes and turn back to Jeongin to keep talking.

"You look so pretty, y/n," a blush covers Jeongin's face when he makes the admission and now a genuine smile makes its way onto your face.

"Thank you, Innie. I think you're pretty, too," you tease, pushing his arm slightly and you both laugh. You hear Seungmin clear his throat on the other side of you and you turn to face him.

"You okay, bestie? Sounds like you have something in your throat. Do you need something to drink?" you put on a mocking tone and Seungmin lets out a fake laugh.

"Yeah. I do. Come with me," he demands and before you can object, he stands from his seat and holds his elbow out to you. You let out a sigh and wrap your perfectly manicured hand around his arm as he guides you towards the refreshments.

His other hand grabs yours on his arm when you try to pull away to head to the table and be guides you behind the table instead and to a door, exiting the main room of the venue.

"Kim Seungmin, this is kidnapping. I didn't agree to this," you snap, trying to pull your hand from his again.

"Well that's too damn bad," his tone immediately makes you snap your mouth shut. Before you have time to muster the courage to talk again, he's pushing you through a door and into a small room, his dressing room.

He steps into the room behind you and you turn to face him. He takes a few quick steps towards you and you back away from him until your lower back makes contact with the vanity that was behind you.

"Seungmin, what are you-"

"Shut your mouth. The sound of your voice is pissing me off right now. Every time you talk, all I can hear is you telling I.N how pretty he looks," he snaps and grabs your face in his hand, forcing you to look at him.

"It was your idea to keep this a secret. Was it not?" you instigate him, motioning between the two of you and his jaw clenches. You're right. He's the one that decided to keep this friends with benefits (but honestly a little more) thing between just the two of you and hide it from everyone, including the boys.

"Exactly. So cut the jealousy before you tell on yourself," you grab his wrist to push it away from your face but he shake it off quickly, opting to wrap it around your neck instead. You inhale a sharp breath at the contact and Seungmin's eyes fall shut. He presses his forehead to yours.

"I can't help it. I don't want to hide it anymore. I need everyone to know that you aren't their's for the picking," his lips crash into yours and you immediately melt into the familiar kiss. Your lips are sticky due to your lip makeup but he doesn't seem to mind.

Especially as his lips begin to travel down your neck, leaving sticky wet kisses in his wake. He reaches just above the neckline of the dress you have on before he lets his teeth sink into the exposed skin there. You let out a mix of a moan of pleasure and pain when he sucks gently on the spot, sure to leave a mark.

"M-minnie. W-we're going to get caught," you're breathless, your hands tangling in his hair. He groans against you before sucking another mark on the other side of your chest, just below your necklace.

"I want to. I want to get caught. I don't care anymore," he grumbles and stands, looking down at you for a moment, before grabbing your arm and spinning you to face the a vanity.

You looked so fucked out already that you felt yourself getting even wetter at the sight. Your glassy eyes take in your appearance. Your lipstick was smeared around your mouth and chin, small traces of the color on your jaw, neck and chest from Seungmin’s lips. One of the spaghetti straps of your dress was hanging off of your shoulder and you had dark purple marks littering your chest and collarbones.

Seungmin presses against you from behind, obviously just as turned on from the sight as you. His arms settle on the vanity, caging you in and he leans forward so you can clearly see him in the mirror. Your lipstick is all over his lips and chin, some has even made its way to the white collar of his shirt.

His big hands grab at your hips as he ruts against you again, letting out a groan. He drops to his knees, grabbing the hem of your dress and pushing it over your slightly bent over frame.

"No panties?" he questions, his finger collecting your wetness before he brings the finger to his mouth and pops it in between his lips. The scene alone has you moaning as you make eye contact through the mirror.

"The dress is too tight," you breath out and a smirk makes its way onto his lips before he drops his hand to your soaking core again and lets one of his fingers push into your hole.

"You're so wet for me," he leans forward and whispers into your ear, lips grazing your earring clad ear.

"Mm, just for you," you speak out quietly and he chuckles, adding another finger into you. A moan falls from your lips and your head falls back onto his shoulder. He retracts his fingers from you and you hear his belt get undone before you feel the head of his cock teasing you.

His fingers find their way to your lips and your sick your essence off of them, making Seungmin groan at the feeling. He pulls his fingers from your mouth with a pop before his hand settles on your hip.

"Just for me? You sure this wasn't because of Jeongin calling you pretty?" he teases the head in and out of you and you bite down on your lip.

"Fuck me, Seungmin. Please? Please? I need it. Please?" you're begging him and he chuckles wrapping a hand around the front of your neck as he eases into you.

"Fuck. This pussy was made for me. All mine," he groans out and you feel yourself clench at the statement. You really are all his. You don't want to admit it, but he's completely right.

He starts to slowly rut into you, teasing you before his hand moves to the back of your neck and pushes you down onto the vanity, your chest pressed against the glass.

"I'm gonna fill my pussy up and you're going to keep it all inside of you. Aren't you?" he questions and speeds his thrusts up, the sting of the vanity against your hips sending you even further into submission.

His hand makes contact with your ass, making you yelp. He bottoms out inside of you, tip touching your cervix and making you whine out as he leans over you, his chest pressed to your back. He stops inside of you, as deep as he can go and you can't help beginning to circle your hips against him. Both of his hands land on your hips, tight grip holding you still.

"I asked you a question," he grumbles into your ear and your eyes shoot open as you rack your brain for what he just asked you. You were so lost in the pleasure that it didn't even register in your brain that he had spoken.

"I-I..." you trail off and he lets out a chuckle, landing another slap on your exposed flesh. You clench around him and he takes a mental note of how much you enjoy being spanked.

"Already fucked your brains out?" he questions and the only sound that leaves your mouth is a moan because of his fingers making contact with your clit and beginning to rub circles.

He starts to slowly buck his hips into you at this deep angle, only pushing deeper, until you can't take it anymore and cum around him. However he doesn't stop and instead sits up, placing both hands on your lower back and roughly beginning to thrust into you again.

The pace sends you into overstimulation quickly and you lean forward, trying to get away from him. He grabs your thigh, keeping you from moving and changing the angle he is hitting you, making your eyes roll back in your head.

"Look at you. About to cum again. You think anyone else can make you feel like this?" His voice is breathy and husky and you can't do anything but shake your head. He places your knee on the vanity and lands another smack to your ass.

"I asked you a question," his tone is demanding and you find yourself tumbling over the edge again

"Nobody else. Only you. Only you. Only you. Fuck. Only you Seungmin," you're babbling as your orgasm crashes over you.

"Mhm. That's what I thought," he whispers before stilling, his hips flush to your ass as he empties himself inside of you.

Little did you both know, Jeongin knew the whole time that you two had been together. He just thought it was time for a little push.

I.N:

"How do you two know each other?" Jeongin approaches behind you at the coffee shop, making you jump.

"Hi, Innie! This is actually my ex from high school!" You laugh and the man on the other side of the counter laughs as well. Jeongin's hand makes it's way into yours and you accept it quickly, like you always do.

"Ahh," He reaches his hand out and greets your ex. You talk for a few more minutes before your name is called and you get your coffee and sit at a table in the corner.

"What's wrong?" you speak up as soon as your boyfriend sits across from you, nudging him gently with your foot. He looks up from his phone and shakes his head at you, a dismissive look on his face.

"You were late and we had time to catch up so we did. I haven't seen him since... God, I don't even remember when. It's always good running into old friends," you reminisce on the old times a bit and Jeongin looks up at you again.

"You didn't tell him that I'm your boyfriend," he pouts out and your glance at him across from you. He seems a bit hurt but you really didn't intend to make him feel that way.

"I told him I was meeting my boyfriend before you showed up. We had been talking for like 20 minutes," you explain and he looks at the window, annoyance evident on his face.

"Twenty minutes?" He questions, raising his eyebrows at you again and you nod.

"He's the one I told you about, y'know," you add on, oblivious to your boyfriend's bubbling jealousy. He lets out a humorless laugh. He know who he is because when you told him his name the first time, he found him on social media and gave him an effective stalking.

"And I care because? So you were talking to the guy that you claim gave you the 'best sex of your life before you met me' for twenty minutes? Okay, y/n," he was visibly annoyed and you finally were able to pick up on the hints of jealousy

"Ah. You're jealous. Gotcha," you tilt your head at him and he finally turns to face you. You rest your chin in your hand and your boyfriend studies your face.

"I'm not jealous," he grumbles out and you nod.

"So if I say that I was daydreaming about the head that he used to give me... you wouldn't care?" you provoke, squinting your eyes at him.

Jeongin's hand slaps down on the table, the sound of his rings hitting the wood echo into your ears and you jump at the noise. He takes a deep inhale and lets it out before looking you in the eyes again.

"I'm not jealous. I just don't like the fact that he knows what you look like under your clothes," he tries to defend himself but you shake your head, letting a smile form on your lips.

"Yeah... right... doesn't sound like jealousy at all," you tease and lean back, pulling your leg up into the seat. You take a sip out of your straw and notice there's a hole so you stand to get a new one.

"Where are you going?" Jeongin snaps at you, his attention solely on you standing.

"Do I have to tell you before I do everything or can I get a new straw by myself like a big girl?" you mock him. That's something that your boyfriend has told you before especially gets under his skin.

"Don't piss me off, babe," he adds the nickname through clenched teeth and you chuckle, walking towards the counter and leaning onto it. Your ex turns his attention to you and a smile takes up his face.

"May I have a new straw, please?" You ask and he nods, handing you a new straw. Your fingers graze for a second and you smile at him.

"Thank you," you turn to walk back to the table but run smack into Jeongin's chest when you turn around. His hand wraps around your lower back and pulls your sweater down to cover your legging clad butt. A pair of leggings that Jeongin himself particularly enjoys.

"We're leaving. Behave," Jeongin speaks up and you feel a blush creep up your neck. He doesn't even attempt to hide his frustrated tone with you and you're embarrassed to admit that your instinct is to automatically submit to him.

You turn to say bye to your ex but his eyes are locked behind you, looking at Jeongin. You feel your boyfriend's arm wrap around you and he grabs your chin, pressing a kiss to your lips, obviously proving a point.

He guides you out of the shop by your lower back before you have time to process the sudden act of PDA and before you could say your goodbyes. He's speed walking, not letting his hand leave your back until you've reached your place.

"Babe you need to-"

"He was looking at you like a piece of meat. He was probably remembering exactly what every square inch of you looks like... what you feel like. I'm..." he trails off and lets out a sigh, punching your code into the door before opening it and stepping in, locking it behind you.

"You're jealous?" you question, crossing your arms over your chest. He sighs again, running a hand through his hair before turning to face you.

"I'm jealous. So fucking jealous. I wish you were mine all along," he confesses and steps towards you, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

"I'm your's now, Innie," you reassure him and wrap your arms around his waist. He bring both his hands to either side of your face and his eyes drop to your lips for a moment.

"Say my name. Tell me you're mine and say my name," his tone is demanding and you can't help but obey him.

"I'm your's, Yang Jeongin. Nobody else's. I'm all your's. Forever," you promise him and he nods, leaning down and pressing his lips to yours before pulling back.

"I'm still mad at you," he leans down again and presses a kiss to your neck, making you let out a low groan.

"Mm.. for what?" you breathe out when he finds your sweet spot on your neck and starts to suck. You're surprised there isn't a permanent mark there from how often he leaves a hickey.

"Not introducing me as your boyfriend," he mumbles against your neck and you roll your eyes, although he can't see you.

"You'll live," you reply and his hands sneakily make their way to your ass, gripping it through the leggings.

"You wore these leggings that drive me crazy. You had this cute little sweater hiked up, showing my ass to everyone in the shop. Including that dumbass," he's whispering into your neck before his hands creep up the back of your sweater.

"Don't you want to apologize?" He prompts you again and sits back but you lean forward and press your lips to his instead. He lets you push him against the wall before he retakes control, slowly backing you towards a lounge chair before settling into it and letting you straddle his lap.

His hand make quick work of your sweater, pulling it over your head before reattaching his lips to yours. One of his hand makes its way into your leggings and cups your heat, making you moan into his mouth.

"So wet," he mumbles against your lips before maneuvering you out of your leggings and underwear, leaving you only in a bra while he's still fully clothed. He grabs you back into his lap but instead pushes one leg between yours, making you straddle his thigh.

You slip your hands under his shirt but he grabs your wrist, settling your hands instead on his shoulders and shaking his head at you.

"You shouldn't have made that comment about thinking about the head that that dipshit used to give you. I could make you feel better with just my thigh," He grumbles at you before his hands settle on your hips and he guides you up and down the fabric of his sweatpants, making your head fall back at the friction.

He looks down at the wet patch that you've already left and chuckles to himself before guiding your hips against his leg faster. Before long, he is barely helping you anymore and you're desperately bucking, pleading for your orgasm to wash over you.

"I-I need help. I need more," you whimper out but before you can say anything else, your boyfriend's middle and ring finger are tapping against your lips. You let your mouth instinctively fall open and he pushes his fingers in. Your lips enclose around his fingers and you suck just like you know he likes.

"All I want to hear from your mouth is you apologizing for how you acted today," His tone is sharp and you speed up on his leg, desperately chasing your high. You open your mouth, a moan falling out.

"I'm- I'm sorry, Innie. I'm so fucking sorry. Please help me. More. I need more," you words are muffled with his fingers still pressing against your tongue but he understands you enough.

He brings his other hand down between where the two of you are connected and inserts two fingers, pressing the palm of his hand against your clit. Your head falls back and an obscene moan leaves your mouth when you start riding his fingers.

"Cum for me, baby. I feel you," his voice is husky and sends you over the edge quickly, especially when he forces his fingers back into your mouth.

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